#he looks so uneasy and its a great follow up to that elevator scene
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terriblygrimm · 2 months ago
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ughhh crying abt
“i’m never getting inside of that head again. i need your word, erik”
the seriousness of which erik has never seen on charles. the callousness he’s never witnessed directed at him. the fact that charles refuses to just feel that erik is a good person within his head - his demand that erik say it out loud and confirm that his actions will line up with his heart. on charles’ terms because at this point he’s driven himself crazy with his mixed emotions over erik and he’s practically shaking and he’s soaking wet standing in front of him, voice trembling, but certain. i need more from you. after erik’s pleasant, unsure but good-natured flirting got turned down. and erik is just instantly humbled - no jokes, no playful banter. charles is hurt. they cut to the chase right then and there. and erik knows it’ll come to a head soon enough because he has a lot to say too - but for now he just decidedly nods, conceding. he wants to make charles feel better.
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nateafa2023 · 2 years ago
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Blog Post 3
This blog post I am going to right about the horror film Candyman filmed in 2021 by Nia DaCosta. This is the second movie to the sequel as there was another Candyman that was filmed in 1992. The movie starts off with Anthony McCoy an artist that fell in love with the story of a city and the evil spirit behind Candyman. To Anthony the Candyman seemed like a myth that was funny to him as he made many jokes scaring people by pretending like he was going to summon the Candyman. He goes on to meet other people that are also interested in the story and help him to piece together this scary story. As the horror movie goes on we see many moments that are very suspenseful and will have you on the edge of your seat whether its from interest or fear. I noticed the type of horror I saw in this movie was less jump scares and more scary through tense moments and many visual captures to make the audience feel a bit uneasy. I felt that the Candyman filmed in 1992 was a lot more traditional with jump scares as that was more of the horror fashion during those times. The horror I noticed in this movie is more of a weird and not so good feeling the audience member gets when hearing these terrible stories. When Anthony mentions saying Candyman in the mirror 5 times will summon him it gets the audience feeling uneasy because now you wonder what will happen if you said it in the mirror but are scared to do so even though it is just a movie. The movie does a great job putting real fear into the audience by creating these scary ideas like saying the Candyman's name 5 times. Another moment of fear struck me during the movie was when Anthony was in the elevator and cut his finger on the piece of candy that fell. Following that was a quick jump scare as when he looks up to see where the candy fell from he sees an image of the Candyman. To me Anthony cutting his figure from the candy is scarier to me more than the jump scare because the idea of how the candy got into the elevator is a little freaky. I think this movie did an amazing job with creating horror by the scenes I mentioned as well as the bathroom scene with the school girls. It could be a difficult movie for some people to watch because of the blood and scary scenes. If you are able to handle those parts it would be a great movie to watch as the plot outside of the horror is actually very interesting. I am glad I watched this movie and recommend it to movie lovers.
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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago
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Lost & Found
Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)
Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment
Word Count: 1.6k
a/n: *long sigh* finally. This story has been haunting me for months now. I was so tempted to just go crazy and start uploading it because I love it so much. But If I’m uploading this, it means that we’ve made it to the promised day! Yay! You guys, I think this may be one of my favorites. Which, if we’re being honest, all of my works are my favorites. But this is everything.
That is all. Please read and enjoy. Let me know your thoughts, I’d be overjoyed to hear from you.
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Chapter 1. Unbreakable Bond
It was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the bond. Perhaps I was just desperate enough. Practically begging on my knees as I stood outside the dingy apartment building, knowing that this was irreversible.
Wanting it to be irreversible.
The woman’s name is Christina, and she gives me a wary look as she explains the cutting process. Her own severed thread is a testament to her underground business. I trust her.
“I need you to be absolutely positive about this,” she warns. “There's no going back once I cut the thread. It will be nearly impossible to find your soulmate.”
That’s the least of my problems. I know that it’ll be all too easy to check in on the whereabouts of my soulmate; after all, he rarely goes anywhere without it being broadcasted to the entire world.
“Burn it.”
Warning me about the impending heat as she pulls out a blowtorch, I hear her sigh. Christina gathers up my thread and places it delicately atop a metal slab. 
The little warehouse attached to her apartment offers little distraction; there are a few scattered tools laying about and nothing else but dull gray walls. In a time like this, a distraction would be nice.
“Do you ever regret it?” I ask, an uneasy turn of my stomach pushing the question out. Christina pulls her faceguard down, gesturing for me to look the opposite way. My shadow takes up the entire wall as she fires up the blowtorch.
“Me?” I can feel the heat of the fire, but I refuse to flinch. “Not really. But I do feel a bit bad for my soulmate.”
I frown at the gray wall. “Why?”
Christina shifts to get a more direct angle on the thin red thread that hangs from my finger and extends to disappear under the door. “You’re not the only one who is about to lose a soulmate today. At least it’s your decision.”
Staring at the unforgiving gray wall, I have plenty of time to mull over her response. However, the second I begin to worry or feel sorry for my soulmate, I remember the sweaty palms and crippling anxiety from earlier.  
As Christina takes a step back after nearly thirty minutes, turning the blowtorch off, I turn to assess the damage. Frowning at the still intact thread, Christina snorts.
“Don’t move.”
She takes a lofty hammer in her hands, bringing it down hard on the thread. I gasp as sparks fly into the air, my thread tightening around my finger and pulling. Grabbing my hand, I struggled to remain upright on the stool.
“We’re almost there!” Christina huffs, bringing the hammer down again and again. Sparks continue to fly, one landing on my shoulder and burning a small hole in my shirt. My hiss of pain is cut short as the pressure on my finger suddenly loosens, nearly causing me to fly backward since I was straining against it.
My breath comes up short as Christina removes the hammer from atop the thread, and I see what happened.
The formerly vivid red hue fades to a dull color, almost a brown-red like dried blood. I watch as the frayed ends begin to retreat, one end slipping off the table and disappearing under the door.
I push off the stool, ripping the door open just in time to see the red thread glinting under the moonlight, drifting away on a breeze. Retreating to its other half.
Glancing down at my hand, I hold up my finger where the other frayed end stops just a few centimeters away from the base of my finger.
“Yeah, it’ll stay like that,” Christina says as she comes to stand beside me. “Unless you want me to burn your finger off…?”
I give her a dry chuckle. “No, thanks. It’s alright like this.” I tilt my head, marveling at the fact that I’m looking out into the world without my thread obscuring my view. “So...will his thread just disappear?”
Christina shakes her head. “Your threads, while cut, still mirror each other. So his will look like yours in a few minutes when it catches up to him.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
She invites me back inside, offering me a salve for my aching shoulder that was burned, frowning as she tells me that it will most likely scar.
“I’ll just consider it a souvenir,” I mumble. Christina laughs.
“That’s the spirit.” She passes me a mug of apple cider, sitting across from me at the same metal slab she calls a table where my thread was severed. “So, do you know who your soulmate is, then? Is that why?”
I take a long sip of the cider, my mind instantly replaying the scene from hours earlier. “I know who he is. Although, I wouldn’t say that I cut it because of who he is. He’s a great guy, actually. Top notch.”
Christina raises her brows at me. “Really? What makes you say that?”
I pause to look at my frayed thread, the string of fate loved by the world over. The thread that I always thought would bring me joy beyond belief, but made me realize that it would be better to let go.
For him.
“Do you know BTS?”
Christina sets her mug down with a loud bang. “Do I - of course I know who they are. Why?” Her expression turns to horror. “Why?”
I wince, taking another sip of my cider. Holding my hand up to display my severed thread, I wiggle my finger. “Park Jimin.”
Jimin is in the middle of his dinner when he feels a sharp tug on his red thread. Chuckling at it, he holds his hand up for the thousands of fans watching his live to see.
“My soulmate is acting up, I think.” He watches as the comments flood in, most everyone mourning the fact that they are not his soulmate. A few people tease him about it being them on the other side of the thread, and while he knows that they’re simply joking with him, he can’t help the increase in his heart rate.
If only.
The thread tightens around his finger, making him hiss in pain. “Ouch,” he mutters, pulling back against the thread in order to sit still. “Sorry, everyone. What were we talking about? Oh, right. The concert today -”
Jimin whines as the thread pulls even harder, nearly causing him to spill his drink. Pulling back as hard as he can, he gives the camera an apologetic smile.
Then, his eyes widen as an idea strikes him. “Do you think I should follow it?” He asks excitedly. He hasn’t ever heard about people’s threads pulling them in the direction of their soulmate when they’re not even in the same room, but maybe she’s here, staying at the same hotel-
“I’ve gotta go!” Jimin shouts, blowing a kiss with his free hand before promising to visit everyone again soon. “Thanks guys!” Ending the live, Jimin shoots out of his chair, barely remembering to grab his room key before bursting out of his room and into the hallway.
Following the pull of the thread, he grins as he follows it to the elevator. Punching the button as hard as he can, he jumps from one foot to another as he waits for the doors to open.
“C’mon, c- bingo!” Sliding into the elevator with a gleeful shriek, he ponders for a moment before deciding to hit the ground floor.
Jimin’s cheeks are red with excitement by the time he reaches the lobby of the hotel, not even noticing when a couple of the bodyguards that escorted them to the concert venue today see him and immediately start following him.
“Mr. Park!” One of them calls. “Mr. Park! You can’t just leave without some form of security!”
Jimin hardly spares him a glance as he bolts for the exit where his thread continues to pull him. “Then follow me!”
The bodyguards chase after him into the night, exchanging concerned glances as Jimin follows after his thread like a convict on the run.
They nearly tackle him as they round a corner he just turned a few seconds prior, stumbling to a stop as they see Jimin standing still in the middle of the empty road.
“Mr. Park,” one of them pants. “Where are you going?”
Jimin stays completely still, the sudden lack of tension from his thread causing his heart to stop. Glancing down at where it’s wrapped around his finger, he feels the exact moment his heart stumbles to a stop.
Floating on a breeze, he sees the other end of his thread. Skimming along the ground like a plastic bag tossed about by the wind.
“What is it?” Jimin breathes out, the question leaving his lips without his consent. “What is it?”
There’s a chill that settles over him as the thread comes closer and closer, making Jimin retreat almost as though he could stop it from reaching him.
“No!” He yells, taking another step back as the end of the thread now arrives at his foot. “No! Not like this!”
The bodyguards watch on with disbelief as the thread works its way up to Jimin’s hand, slowing to a stop just below his finger. They’re continually glancing down at their own threads, making sure that they aren’t about to stumble upon the same ugly fate.
But it’s just Jimin with the cut thread. It’s just Jimin, who falls to his knees with a dull thump. Staring down at the thread, raising his shaking hand and grasping the frayed edge.
“Are they…?” One young bodyguard asks. His senior shakes his head.
“No. The thread turns gray when they die, remember?”
“Then what happened?” He asks again, eyes wide.
His senior sighs heavily, heart breaking at the sight he’s only ever heard stories about. “They must have found someone to cut it.”
The young bodyguard gasps. “Cut it? Is that even possible?”
Jimin’s sobs answer the question for him, the sound echoing off the buildings. One by one, lights turn on in the surrounding apartment buildings as people wonder what the commotion is all about.
Jumping into action, the bodyguards swarm Jimin, picking him up and supporting him between the two of them. Jimin’s body is weak and limp as he shouts and sobs.
“C-come back to me.”
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taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @onewoneman @moon-write​ @marianeamine​ @missseoulite​ @preciouschimine​
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becomewings · 4 years ago
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The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>
   BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 3 / 4
« pt. 2  |  » pt. 4
Introduction
The following sections for JiMin’s and HoSeok’s arcs are 4.5k and 4k, respectively. As with pt.2 of the series, I have included “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.
Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD
This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media
Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission
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Stopped Time
SeokJin’s primary goal in JiMin’s story is to free him from the hospital psychiatric ward to which his parents have him committed before he gives up on life. Much like his sudden, unexplained absence in The Notes 1, JiMin is not even present in the first two episodes except for an introductory cutscene. In a hospital hallway on an unspecified date, he plays on the colored tiles and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. (This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) Everything goes black except for JiMin and the door. A nurse taps him on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality, and hands him pills.
The playable story begins on 22 April Year 22 with SeokJin attending a meeting organized by the patrons of the Songho Foundation. Seo HyunJung, the city’s Deputy Mayor, suggested it to SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, at the inauguration ceremony. (SeokJin attends the inauguration ceremony on 11 April in many loops; it plays out in episode 2 of JungKook’s arc.) SeokJin scans over the crowd, reflecting that while the pretext of the meeting is to discuss community development, in reality it is a social gathering to advance individual careers. These sessions make him uncomfortable, but this time he is attending of his own accord with the intention of meeting someone.
This someone is a woman who actually approaches him first, introducing herself as Sim SeonMi. SeokJin knows that she is JiMin’s mother. He has met her in previous loops but needs to pretend that this is their first time meeting. His goal is to bring up JiMin naturally and persuade her to discharge him from the hospital. Before he can broach the subject, the high school principal, Jo JinMyung, joins them. SeokJin uses his arrival as an opportunity to bring up school and guide the conversation toward JiMin by first asking if they know each other. “We’ve met a few times at gatherings. I was told her child used to be a student at our school,” answers Jo JinMyung. “Ah, really? I attended Jeil High too,” says SeokJin. Sim SeonMi looks taken aback, and he asks for her child’s name. She tries to avoid the question by saying that they probably won’t know each other due to their age gap, but when pressed again she relents. “His name is Park JiMin.” “I know JiMin! We were close. Is JiMin doing okay?” SeokJin responds brightly, wondering if she will provide an empty lie. Instead, she excuses herself with the claim that she needs to greet someone else.
SeokJin quickly wraps up with the principal and begins to casually approach her again. He stops when he overhears two women mention her name. “There’s no gathering she doesn’t attend these days. Looks like her husband’s star is on the rise, thanks to her efforts…” The player has the choice to listen quietly or butt in. If SeokJin stands by, they speculate that she was invited because her husband’s company is one of the patrons. If he interrupts, they caution him to stay away from her. In both routes, SeokJin learns that Sim SeonMi doesn’t have the best reputation and that rumors of her hospitalized son are spreading. Their blame on her helps explain what underlay her hysteric responses in previous loops.
Though it’s uncomfortable, SeokJin reapproaches her when she is alone. She greets him a little coldly. “You don’t have to be so formal to me. I’m JiMin’s friend,” he assures. “Is that so? How friendly you are.” Sim SeonMi smiles awkwardly and keeps looking elsewhere as though for an escape. “It would’ve been nice if JiMin’s father was here… He’ll join me another time, so you can say hello to him then.” “Yes. I’ll make sure to bring my father along then,” SeokJin replies, hoping to snag her attention. Her eyes change at the mention of his father. “Shall we do that, then? It’ll be even better with the Assemblyman.” SeokJin brings up JiMin again by either asking if he still attends Jeil High or how he’s doing. Her uneasy answers are “These days? Yes… Of course” or “...He’s fine,” respectively. SeokJin requests JiMin’s phone number, rendering her silent for a long moment. “That’s a bit difficult. I’m not sure I can give out JiMin’s contact information without his approval.” SeokJin attempts to convince her by stating that they were close friends in school yet lost contact when he studied abroad. But all he gets from her is, “Then I’ll ask JiMin, and make sure to contact you if he says it’s okay.” Sim SeonMi taps him on the shoulder and quickly walks away.
By 25 April, SeokJin still hasn’t heard from JiMin’s mother, so he decides to visit her and reveal that he knows JiMin was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric ward. Uncle JunHo, his father’s secretary, intercepts him before he leaves the house and asks where he’s going. SeokJin either answers that he is heading to school or meeting a friend to work on assignments. He declines a ride from JunHo in the first path but can’t conjure an excuse to not accept in the second. In both, JunHo comments that it’s not easy being the family of a public official and that he noticed SeokJin engaged in a long conversation with Sim SeonMi at the meeting. SeokJin explains that she is his friend’s mother, and JunHo advises him not to get too friendly with her because she doesn’t have a great reputation. In the second path, he also adds information about JiMin’s father that catches SeokJin’s attention because he has not heard anything about the man. Apparently Park JinWook is one of the foundation’s board members. ‘He’s pretty remarkable. He entered as a researcher and became a board member… The one thing that people like him want most is connections,” JunHo muses. He cautions SeokJin to “be wary of any advances [he] can see the intent of.”
The scene cuts to the exterior of an apartment building after SeokJin has either driven himself or been dropped off nearby by JunHo. He considers the public assessment of JiMin’s mother: she works hard to elevate her husband’s status but ignores her own son in favor of the family’s reputation. Sim SeonMi happens to step outside before SeokJin enters the building. She looks wary when he says, “I haven’t heard from you, so I decided to come see you myself.” In an effort to persuade her, SeokJin begins with either “I want to see JiMin” or “I came to see you because I know everything.” In the first path, she lies about not getting in touch with JiMin yet because he is studying abroad in the U.S. SeokJin is stunned by this egregious falsehood. “From what I’ve heard… JiMin’s locked up in a hospital. He’s at the Gyeong Il Hospital, isn’t he?” A similar reaction occurs in the second path from the point of SeokJin mentioning the hospital. Sim SeonMi hardens and objects to the phrase “locked up,” stating that JiMin is an inpatient because he is sick. “SeokJin, I appreciate that you’re worried about JiMin… But I’m his mother, and that means I know what’s best for him.” The paths converge as she tries to leave, claiming they have nothing left to discuss. Persuading her to release JiMin from the hospital seems impossible. “I’ll look into it on my own. I’m going to see JiMin, no matter how hard you try to stop me,” SeokJin warns. Sim SeonMi glares at him, voice low and cold. “‘SeokJin. If I can give you a word of advice… Adults have reasons for everything they do. You should forget about this.”
The beginning of episode 3 visits JiMin’s perspective on 27 April. He has relocated temporarily to the surgical ward due to an injured wrist. After treatment, he returns to his hospital room to find his mother arranging some items she brought. JiMin approaches nervously, wondering if she thinks he has caused a problem again. “It doesn’t look too bad, thankfully,” she remarks, glancing at his wrist. Her concern is unfamiliar yet welcome. “Do you know a Kim SeokJin? He said he attended Jeil High.” The mention of SeokJin surprises JiMin, but he tries to answer passively because of her angry tone. “Yes, but why are you suddenly ask—” “Did you contact him?” Sim SeonMi interrupts, halting her organizing to stare at him. “Why are you so immature? Do you ever think of anyone outside of here?” Injury throbbing, JiMin doesn’t know how to respond. “If you want to leave, tell me why you’re doing this. Tell me instead of embarrassing me by contacting some random person! Is that why you hurt your wrist? To rebel?” she demands. JiMin tries to explain this isn’t true, but she doesn’t listen. “I’m really tired, too. How many years has it been? How long do I have to suffer because of you?” Sim SeonMi leaves, the rant having done little to expend her anger. JiMin knows that her worries are pointed at herself, not at him; he is someone who makes life harder for her. He decides not to talk about anything else because he doesn’t want to make things even more difficult for her.
The story cuts to SeokJin loitering outside Gyeong Il Hospital, mulling over what action to take since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. (The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.) SeokJin knows that he will be the first suspect if JiMin disappears now and that he must act carefully since he was unable to persuade JiMin’s mother. As the day grows dark, he spots Sim SeonMi rushing into the hospital on her second visit. SeokJin hurries after her, worried that something happened to JiMin. The panicked voices of a medical team emerge from JiMin’s room. Doctors crowd around someone laying on the bed. “No, JiMin!” SeokJin hears Sim SeonMi scream followed by the sound of shattering glass.
The loop resets, and the game rejoins SeokJin on 10 May standing at a road and reflecting on the last failure. “If JiMin isn’t saved while he’s in the surgical ward, he makes his choice days after he returns to the closed ward. But it happened too quickly this time. What pushed him?” he wonders. He recalls Sim SeonMi’s final words before the loop ended. “No, JiMin! I’m sorry. I was wrong! You can see your friends; you can do anything you want… So please, open your eyes!” SeokJin realizes that he may have caused Sim SeonMi to act out of the ordinary, which in turn affected JiMin’s choice. It’s his fault, and he made JiMin suffer more. He thinks, “Even though I’ve experienced losing my friends before… No matter how many times it repeats… It never gets any easier.” SeokJin decides to abandon persuading JiMin’s mother to avoid provoking her and reverts his plan to sneaking JiMin out like in earlier loops. But first, he must focus on a more pressing issue—rescuing HoSeok after he collapses on the bridge that day.
After a cut, HoSeok awakens in SeokJin’s car and is shocked to see him. “Wow, is it really you? How long has it been?” “Lean on me for a bit longer. You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell?” SeokJin checks. HoSeok assures him that he’s all right and asks how SeokJin saw him. When SeokJin says he was just passing by, HoSeok remarks, “Wow! That’s so weird. Thanks for saving me.” It’s the first time SeokJin has heard something like this. He remembers JiMin in a previous loop telling him, “This is where I should be.” Does JiMin really want to leave the hospital? SeokJin believed that he did, but now he’s less confident. “HoSeok. If you had someone in front of you who wanted to die because living was too difficult… What would you do?” he asks. HoSeok answers without hesitation, “Well, I would help them.” “Even if that person doesn’t want my help?” says SeokJin. “ Isn’t helping them the right thing to do? Even if you don’t know why they want to die… They need to keep living for something to change,” HoSeok muses.
SeokJin drops HoSeok off at Two Star Burger before returning to the hospital alone, his friend’s words sticking with him. Even though JiMin isn’t guaranteed to be happy when he leaves the hospital, he needs to stay alive to have even the opportunity for happiness. Still uncertain how to proceed, SeokJin heads to the hospital lounge to organize his thoughts before visiting JiMin. Through an open door, he spots JiMin trudging down a hallway. SeokJin either calls out to him or watches him, but the latter is the result regardless because JiMin doesn’t hear him in the first path. JiMin stares at the door as people come and go and eventually returns to his room.
On 7 May, JiMin roams the hallways of the 5th floor surgical ward. He was moved there about ten days earlier after he ran into someone and fell. The surgical ward is not too different from the psychiatric one: the hallway is a little longer, and it has a lounge in the middle. But the freedom to move around in this space brings him joy that he doesn’t have in the psychiatric ward. He even wanders around at night when no one is around and dances in the lounge. Despite this newfound freedom, his body stops at the same point in the hallway—where the psychiatric ward ends four floors above him. After reaching his line again, JiMin returns to his room. He assumes a student occupied the bed before him because he finds a forgotten workbook in the nearby drawers. Remembering that he used this workbook in school, he flips through and reads the notes scribbled in the margins. “I want to go to a PC cafe, too…” he murmurs, spotting the note “wanna go to the PC cafe later?” JiMin finds a haphazardly folded paper tucked into the pages and unfolds it curiously. “Career… plan?”
The story cuts to 10 May with SeokJin, from a hidden vantage point, watching JiMin sit in the hospital lounge and read a book. It reminds him of their days in the classroom hideout. “He seems okay right now.” SeokJin receives a call from Uncle JunHo about the scheduling of a Songho Foundation seminar. During their conversation, a loudspeaker announcement summons JiMin to the 2nd floor physical therapy room. He drops the book and runs out of the lounge. Once finished with the call, SeokJin tries to find the book JiMin was reading. He doesn’t see it among those scattered around the lounge and thinks that JiMin must’ve had a reason to hide it. Hoping it will provide him a clue to understanding his friend, SeokJin hunts around either the window or trash can with no luck before turning to the vending machine. After scooting a bookcase out of the way, he is finally able to rescue the item. SeokJin deduces that the workbook doesn’t belong to JiMin because it’s Year 2 material and JiMin was admitted to the hospital in his first year. He finds the detached sheet with two different types of handwriting and determines which belongs to JiMin. The game provides a quick flashback shot of JiMin filling out the paper. “Aspiring Career Path: Will I be able to go to university too? Scholastic Activities: What should I learn in Year 2… Extracurricular Activities: Join the dance club HoSeok started.” SeokJin wonders what JiMin felt as he wrote in the answers. He considers how JiMin people-watched from the hallway and looked happy reading the workbook. “You want to leave, don’t you?” SeokJin thinks. “Let’s get out of here. So you can be the one to decide what kind of life you want to live.” He resolves to break JiMin free.
On 11 May, JiMin stops at the invisible line in the hallway again. He stares at the door before turning around and bumping into someone. He is shocked speechless when he realizes that it’s SeokJin. The next episode continues from this moment but switches to SeokJin’s perspective. He calms JiMin down before bringing him to the lounge, giving the excuse that he was in the hospital to visit someone else. JiMin’s cheeks are hollowed, his hands skinnier than normal. SeokJin wonders if he can inspire JiMin to act if he tells him that he’ll be able to do all of the things he wrote on the career plan once he leaves the hospital. He either asks, “JiMin, are you injured?” or “How long have you been in the hospital?” In both paths, JiMin refers to his wrist injury and the time he’s been in the surgical ward rather than the psychiatric one. He looks grim when he can’t give a proper answer to either “When do you get discharged?” or “Are you sick?” “I think I have to go now. It’s almost time for treatment, too…” JiMin stands to leave, avoiding his gaze. SeokJin rushes after him and blocks his path, knowing this might be their last chance to speak if they say goodbye already. “JiMin, I’m here because I know everything. You want to leave this place, don’t you? You’ve been here for two years.” JiMin steps back but doesn’t run away. “I just happened to hear… how your mother locked you in the psychiatric ward,” SeokJin explains. JiMin shakes his head with a frightened expression. “No. I’m here because I’m sick.” His eyes falter when SeokJin presses, “JiMin, I can help you. Let’s get out of here together.”
Short flashbacks play from JiMin’s perspective alongside his thoughts: “At first, I wanted to leave. I called my mom and cried until my voice went hoarse, asking her to take me home. That I didn’t want to stay here. But she didn’t listen. Because this is where I should be…” Aloud, JiMin speaks in a voice that sounds like he has given up on everything. “Even if I leave, I’ll eventually come back.” SeokJin shakes his head. “What’s important is how you feel. JiMin, you really want to stay here? That’s okay with you?” Depending on the players’ choice, he either continues, “Do you really not have anything you want to do?” or “‘You really want to stay here in the hospital?” In the first path, SeokJin tries to remind him of something he must want to do like studying or dancing. “I don’t… have anything like that,” JiMin lies. In the second path, JiMin says it’s better for him in the hospital because outside people treat him like a freak. SeokJin remembers the women whispering about Sim SeonMi and her hospitalized son at the Songho Foundation meeting. In both paths, JiMin is pale and shaky. SeokJin decides to ask one more time. “You don’t want to go outside and see your friends?” JiMin seems to perk up at the mention of “friends,” but he does not respond or lift his gaze. SeokJin’s parting words are, “Think about it, JiMin… I’ll come back to visit again.”
The next day (12 May), SeokJin reflects on his failure to persuade both JiMin and his mother. “What can I do to help JiMin get over his fear and gain courage?” he wonders. The career plan comes to mind again with JiMin’s notes of college, studying, and dancing—the things he wants to do outside of the hospital. This prompts SeokJin to remember a day in the classroom hideout when he filmed HoSeok dancing. On the sidelines, TaeHyung complimented HoSeok’s moves and asked if JiMin could dance like that. Gaze full of envy and longing, JiMin answered, “No. How could I do that?” “HoSeok! JiMin says he wants to try!” TaeHyung called. Flustered, JiMin tried to stop him, but HoSeok looked over. “Do you want to try?” JiMin insisted that he couldn’t, but TaeHyung pushed him forward and HoSeok gladly demonstrated the routine. JiMin hesitated at first to attempt it alone but began to move at their encouragement. In the present, SeokJin believes that he has found an answer in this memory. “TaeHyung, who pushed him forward… and HoSeok, who believed that he could do it. Maybe one of those two will help JiMin muster up the courage.”
SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him persuade JiMin, considering that he was the first person to notice how JiMin was feeling when they watched HoSeok dance and helped JiMin take action when he hesitated. (We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.) On 13 May, SeokJin visits TaeHyung’s convenience store to explain JiMin’s situation, and TaeHyung immediately agrees to help. Late that night and with little planned, they sneak into JiMin’s hospital room. Sensing their presence, JiMin turns on the light and is especially surprised to see TaeHyung. “We’re here to get you out of here, JiMin,” he says. “Did you think about it?” SeokJin asks. When JiMin hesitates, TaeHyung presses him to answer honestly. “Park JiMin, do you like being here? Staying here is awful! Let’s leave. You can think when we’re outside.” TaeHyung forces JiMin to his feet even as he hesitates and protests about the impending night rounds, although he does not push TaeHyung’s hand away. SeokJin knows this is hasty but decides to trust TaeHyung. Out in the hallway, he reflects that if even he spoke the same words, JiMin would not agree. SeokJin has encountered moments like this before where his friends solve problems that he cannot fix alone. “TaeHyung seems to be JiMin’s answer, just like YoonGi needed JungKook,” SeokJin thinks. (JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward.)
The elevator arrives as they turn the corner, its doors opening to reveal Sim SeonMi. SeokJin warns, “Hide. It’s JiMin’s mom.” She walks past without noticing them. SeokJin quickly presses the elevator button, but it has already left. “JiMin, quick!” TaeHyung calls. “TaeHyung, I just…” “You can’t look back,” TaeHyung says firmly. He and SeokJin pull JiMin towards the stairwell, but JiMin stops walking. “What’s wrong?” asks TaeHyung. JiMin’s expression is on the verge of crying yet also angry. “I can’t,” he whispers. “Park JiMin, we don’t have time for this—” TaeHyung is interrupted by Sim SeonMi’s distant voice. “Where’d he go? The bathroom?” SeokJin tugs JiMin’s arm, but he looks afraid again. “SeokJin, I… I can’t do this. I don’t think I can.” SeokJin either soothes JiMin himself or has TaeHyung talk to him. In the first path, he takes JiMin’s trembling hand. “It’s safe for me here.” JiMin shakes his head. “No, JiMin. Something bad will happen if you stay here,” SeokJin cautions. “No, I have to stay here. That’s what’s right. I want to stay here,” JiMin insists. In the second path, SeokJin shoots TaeHyung a look, and TaeHyung in turn scans over JiMin. The tapping sound of shoes rings through the silent hallway. TaeHyung begins, “JiMin, if you stop here…” The paths rejoin when Sim SeonMi spots them and calls to JiMin, face livid as she approaches. “Oh… Mom.” The color drains from JiMin’s face. “Please… Please! Can’t you just stay put?” she demands sharply.
TaeHyung attempts to intervene, introducing himself as JiMin’s friend. Sim SeonMi does not look at him even when he explains that JiMin didn’t expect their visit and they were just taking him outside so as not to disturb the sleeping patients. SeokJin chimes in too, hoping their flimsy excuse will work, but Sim SeonMi orders JiMin back to his room. Looking defeated, JiMin trudges out of sight. Sim SeonMi finally turns her gaze on SeokJin, regarding him with the same expression as she utters the same words from the last loop. “I didn't know you were JiMin’s friend.” She warns them not to visit him again like this because he is very sick and it will interfere with his treatment. Before coldly turning to leave, she touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. (This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1.) Her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. (SeokJin’s observation echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.) TaeHyung yells after her, “What’s wrong with him?! You can’t even spare the time to talk to us?!” SeokJin cautions him to stop. “Let me go! JiMin! Park JiMin!” TaeHyung’s voice rings loudly in the hallway, but no one answers. As they leave the hospital, he asks, “Do you think JiMin will be okay?” SeokJin cannot respond because he knows the truth: when JiMin returns to the psychiatric ward, he always makes the same awful choice.
The story cuts to JiMin sitting on his hospital bed and staring at his feet, unable to face his mother. He regrets following SeokJin and TaeHyung. “It was a lie, wasn’t it?” Sim SeonMi asks. “What those kids said earlier. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” JiMin apologizes, throat catching. “What were you going to do? What could you possibly do outside of this place?” she demands. JiMin remembers all the things he thought about alone in the lounge: going to school, making friends, and learning dance from HoSeok again. “I want to live a regular life. It’s nothing that special. Why is it that I’m not allowed to dream?” he thinks. “JiMin, let’s focus on getting better first. When you’re all better… I’ll let you do whatever you want once you’re discharged. But you know that now isn’t the time. Let’s do it when you’re back to normal,” Sim SeonMi advises with a power in her voice that he can’t fight. Questions pile up in his head: what is getting better, and what is normal? But he holds it in and nods, not wanting to make things any more difficult for her. “Okay, Mom. I will…” As he speaks, it dawns on him that he’ll never get to leave the hospital.
JiMin moves back to the psychiatric ward after SeokJin and TaeHyung’s visit. The place is still the same: a man mutters that he’s not crazy; a child stays glued to the window, waiting for their mom. “And then there’s me, unable to progress because I’m locked in the past. If nothing changes even as time flows, how is it any different than time standing still?” On 19 May, JiMin stands in the bathroom with the water running. He sees and hears the falling drops as rain and smells a sharp stickiness. Reflected in the water in the sink, he sees a vision of himself on “that day.” (This is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.) “...I hate it.” JiMin covers his eyes. “I want to forget everything. I want to rest.” The glass shatters, concluding his arc.
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Someone Left Behind
HoSeok’s story opens on 11 May Year 22 with SeokJin providing some chronological context. So far, he has not made it to June once in the loops because HoSeok collapses from his narcolepsy and JiMin is still trapped in the hospital. SeokJin can encounter JiMin naturally if he admits HoSeok to the hospital after his collapse on 10 May, but HoSeok has an accident in the hospital stairwell and falls into despair over his leg injury. (10 May is the date HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and this is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.) Even if SeokJin prevents that accident or helps HoSeok avoid admittance to the hospital entirely, his narcolepsy grows worse over time after 10 May. SeokJin determines that he needs to control HoSeok’s narcolepsy in order to save him, and he heads to Two Star Burger where HoSeok works to begin earnestly investigating.
A cutscene plays out at the restaurant: HoSeok, wearing a manager’s tag, watches two friends eating at a table while someone places their order with him. His expression is distant and briefly sad until he catches himself and smiles brightly at the customer. When the door chimes, he greets the new visitor and realizes it’s SeokJin. This is apparently their first time meeting in this loop because HoSeok heard from the other guys that Seokjin returned. SeokJin asks how he’s doing, and HoSeok replies, “Me? Same as usual.” SeokJin knows that “same as usual” means HoSeok’s life has a set, monotonous routine: working his part-time job, going to dance practice, and occasionally visiting the children’s home. Sometimes, he also comes to the bridge over the river and watches the scenery. The scene transitions to this location later at night as SeokJin narrates this. He stands at a distance so HoSeok doesn’t see him. HoSeok’s out-of-character, melancholy expression worries SeokJin. He hasn’t observed any changes to his friend’s daily routine, and HoSeok hasn’t collapsed recently—so why does he keep collapsing on 10 May?
The narrative cuts to 3 May. (I double-checked the dates and can only assume that this is a new loop, although a reset is not specifically mentioned—or else the opening date was a typo.) SeokJin mulls the situation over alone for a while but ends up going to NamJoon out of frustration. NamJoon and HoSeok share similarities, and they’re both responsible for other people. Believing that NamJoon knows HoSeok best, SeokJin visits his container. NamJoon greets him warmly. JungKook is already there, killing time after school. SeokJin mentions that he saw HoSeok a few days earlier at Two Star Burger but couldn’t really talk to him because he was busy. NamJoon suggests inviting him to join them after work and bring some hamburgers too since JungKook is hungry. SeokJin either calls HoSeok himself or lets JungKook call. In the first path, HoSeok says he’ll come as soon as SeokJin mentions that a few of them are together. In the second path, while JungKook is on the phone, SeokJin asks NamJoon how HoSeok is and learns that he practices dance at the cultural center every day. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok is pushing himself too hard. The paths rejoin: before HoSeok arrives, SeokJin inquires about his narcolepsy too. NamJoon doesn’t know much except that he’s still taking medication for it and seems to be doing okay. It seems that no one dares to bring it up since HoSeok doesn’t speak about it openly. The conversation trails off while they wait, although it’s not awkward—it reminds SeokJin of old times together.
HoSeok arrives with a cheerful greeting, wafting in the smell of fresh hamburgers. “These hamburgers were hand-made by the employee of the month!” He rustles through the bags and produces a kid’s meal boxed toy, giving it to JungKook. “Here’s your Children’s Day gift!” JungKook pouts that he’s not a kid but seems pleased to receive a gift even though it’s a couple days early. HoSeok explains that he has to be at the children’s home on 5 May. NamJoon asks if they’re hosting an event that day. “It’s not really an event… I’m going to see the families,” says HoSeok. He plans to bring hamburgers and play with the kids rather than bring gifts. SeokJin is surprised to hear that almost twenty children, ranging from young kids to high schoolers, live at the home. “‘That’s more than I expected. It must be fun when everyone plays together.” HoSeok invites him to come along to take photos of everyone, and SeokJin agrees with a high-five. NamJoon declines because he’s too busy, and JungKook hesitates. HoSeok assures him not to feel pressured, causing SeokJin to reflect on how he has always been the “mood-maker” whose cheerful personality eases awkward situations and defuses disagreements. While lost in thought, he notices HoSeok taking out his medication. “How are you these days? Do you feel better?” NamJoon checks. “Hmm. I don’t have any symptoms, but I shouldn’t be skipping these.” A grim expression flashes across HoSeok’s face. SeokJin thinks, “It doesn’t mean he’s alright just because he smiles in front of people.” He guesses that HoSeok must feel scared of his condition, not knowing when he’ll collapse next. It’s not enough for SeokJin to prevent the accidents he can see or to stop HoSeok from getting injured—he must save him from the fear that isn’t visible. SeokJin resolves to find out what makes him collapse. Even if the condition isn’t curable, discovering the cause might help HoSeok get better.
On 5 May, SeokJin meets up with HoSeok at the children’s home, which is located near Yangji Stream. HoSeo looks happy and explains that visiting there is like coming home. They bring their respective gifts of hamburgers and snacks inside, and all the kids rush to HoSeok in excitement. One of the home’s staff greets them. HoSeok introduces her as Kim JungHee. He calls her “auntie” and regards her as someone who has been like a mother to him. As SeokJin helps her set the table with food, he thinks that the children’s home feels like an ordinary family home and HoSeok looks like the dependable older brother among all the kids. After taking all the requested pictures later, SeokJin joins HoSeok to watch the children play outside. “You’re on good terms with the kids,” he observes. “I’ve only been out of the children’s home about three months now, so I know them all,” HoSeok explains. (He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.) SeokJin either comments, “Auntie seems like a great person. She treated me well and we’ve only just met,” or asks, “How old were you when you first came here?” In both paths, HoSeok speaks with visible adoration for Kim JungHee. In the first path, he mentions that although she’s scary when mad, she never gets angry without a reason. “Auntie JungHee is just… like a mom. She’s mom.” In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was seven when he moved into the children’s home. He describes how Auntie would sing him songs that his mother listened to instead of a lullaby when he had trouble falling asleep, and that was the first time he cried after coming to the home. SeokJin begins, “Then, HoSeok, when you were little…” But a boy’s cries interrupt him before he can ask if HoSeok experienced narcolepsy when he was younger. “What’s wrong, JiHun?” HoSeok asks in concern. The sobbing boy shows him a broken toy rocket. “My mom… gave this to me.” HoSeok is at a loss because it looks impossible to fix. “I’ll bring you a new one next time. Don’t cry, JiHun. Okay?” The boy keeps crying despite HoSeok’s attempts at consolation. Before SeokJin can think of another tactic, HoSeok speaks up, drying JiHun’s tears. “JiHun, do you want to go with me to see a real rocket?”
At HoSeok’s request, SeokJin drives them both to Yeongsan Bridge, one of the bridges that crosses Yangji Stream and that HoSeok frequents. SeokJin is perplexed about what could count as a “real rocket” as they head to HoSeok’s usual spot on the bridge, and JiHun appears suspicious but excited. “Look over there!” HoSeok points to the train departing Songju Station in the distance, picking up speed on the tracks. “Wow!” JiHun exclaims. “What do you think? That rocket looks cool, huh?” asks HoSeok. “Rocket? That’s a train,” says the boy. “Look closely! It’s a rocket.” HoSeok beams. JiHun asks HoSeok why he calls it a rocket. HoSeok explains that the front end of the train is pointy like a rocket and that it takes people somewhere far away. (He also refers to the trains as rockets in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.) SeokJin realizes that from his vantage point on the bridge, HoSeko has been watching the train that leaves Songju. “JiHun, you can wish on the rocket, too!” HoSeok describes how the rocket can carry dreams because the people who ride on it have dreams. JiHun wishes to become famous so his mom can find him. HoSeok falls silent for a moment before resuming his chatty demeanor. Together they wish on the rocket for JiHun to see his mom again. JiHun asks HoSeok what he wishes for so they can wish it on the next rocket. HoSeok whispers in his ear. “Wow, you too?!” JiHun exclaims. HoSeok shushes him, so SeokJin does not learn HoSeok’s answer.
After dropping JiHun off at the children’s home, SeokJin and HoSeok relax at a bar. HoSeok thanks him for his help that day. SeokJin asks if HoSeok visits Yeongsan Bridge frequently to look at the trains. HoSeok smiles bashfully over his drink and explains that he liked visiting it when he lived in the children’s home. “Is that when you came up with the rocket story?” SeokJin asks. HoSeok replies, ‘Yeah. The people getting on the train look so cheerful and happy. It almost makes me want to get on there with them, too.” He stops abruptly and calls out to a customer on his way out. The young man is introduced as DongJin, a friend who also grew up in the children’s home. SeokJin invites him to sit with them, hoping that he knows more about HoSeok, but DongJin declines since he’s with other company. Before departing, he mentions that he will stop by Two Star Burger to see HoSeok soon. After his friend leaves, HoSeok tells SeokJin more about his childhood. SeokJin understands why he considers the people at the children’s home his family.
A little tipsy now, HoSeok brings up another memory. The whole family at the children’s home goes to Yangji Stream on August 30th for the yearly fireworks, but when he was about nine, he had to be admitted to the hospital for a check-up. SeokJin either asks, “Did you miss the fireworks that year?” or “Were you sick?” In the first path, HoSeok describes how he snuck out of his hospital room and up to the rooftop to watch the fireworks. Along the way, he found a little kid crying in the stairwell who was looking for his mom and wanted to leave, and he brought the boy to the roof so they could view the fireworks together. He doesn’t know who the kid was or remember his face. (See the Additional Thoughts section at the end for who I hope this kid really was!) In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was falling asleep without explanation but the doctor said there was nothing particularly abnormal. SeokJin tries to ask a leading question to get him to reveal more, but HoSeok’s expression is grim. The paths rejoin with HoSeok asking SeokJin if he has attended the fireworks festival too. He looks wistful when SeokJin replies that he went with his family when he was younger. HoSeok brings up DongJin again. “He’s a really lucky guy. Even though it was pretty late, he got in touch with his parents and moved out to go live with them.” His eyes reflect bitterness. “DongJin and I… both dreamed of going to the fireworks festival with our parents. I guess he’ll achieve his dream for the first time this year.” SeokJin recalls HoSeok’s rocket story and asks if that’s the dream he told JiHun about earlier. HoSeok dismisses this: his dream now is to become famous for dancing. SeokJin remembers him mentioning this in high school. “Right, you said you wanted to become famous as a dancer so it would help you find your mom… Are you still dancing because of that?” HoSeok says that was why he first started but he grew to really love dance. “You don’t have any plans to go find your mom, then?” SeokJin asks. “Why would I go anywhere? My home, work, and friends are all here.” HoSeok laughs, but it seems like he is just holding on rather than truly feeling happy. “I just… like where I am.”
Episode four begins on 8 May, Parents’ Day, in HoSeok’s perspective. As promised, DongJin visits him at Two Star Burger and asks if he can get a job there because he needs money. HoSeok is taken aback since DongJin supposedly has moved out of Songju to live with his father after reconnecting with his family. “What happened to your self-reliance support fund?” DongJin confesses that he gave it all to his father, who said that he needed it to buy them a house but hasn’t contacted him since receiving the money. “I think my expectations were too high. They abandoned me once. Why wouldn’t they abandon me a second time? I wish I hadn’t met them…” DongJin’s voice wavers. HoSeok assures him that his father must be busy looking for houses. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll contact you soon. I’ll look into a job for you.” DongJin thanks him multiple times before leaving. After work, HoSeok returns to the bridge and leans on the railing. He often does this even when there are no passing trains—watching the flow of the river empties his mind and puts him at ease. But the calm water cannot still his thoughts today. He thinks about the many children at the home who want to be reunited with their parents, including JiHun, DongJin, and himself. HoSeok is honest about his feelings, acknowledging that he envies DongJin for being able to contact a parent, even one who let him down. He closes his eyes and remembers the day his mom abandoned him at the carousel. In the memory, she hands him a chocolate bar and instructs him to count to ten before opening his eyes. The screen goes black after “three,” and at “nine,” the player hears the sound of someone falling. (The carousel memory is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.)
The story cuts to the next day, 9 May, outside Two Star Burger. SeokJin is uneasy knowing that HoSeok collapsed yesterday, two days earlier than he normally does in the loops, and hovers nearby to keep an eye on him. HoSeok announces that he’s heading out for a delivery and heads outside to the delivery scooter. A passing woman reminds her daughter to count before crossing the street. “One, two, three…” HoSeok watches them cross the street and collapses again. “HoSeok!” SeokJin cries. He gets permission from the restaurant manager to take a still-unconscious HoSeok home to his room that overlooks all of Songju City. SeokJin helps HoSeok onto his bed before looking around his room. The player has a choice to look at the items on the desk or a familiar planter on the dresser. In the first path, SeokJin clicks past the screensaver on HoSeok’s laptop and sees that the web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. (This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) He remembers HoSeok mentioning that he’s happiest when dancing and knows that he still runs Just Dance, the dance club he started in high school. “I’m sure he’d do well if he applies,” SeokJin muses. In the second path, SeokJin recognizes the plant as the one HoSeok tended every day in their classroom hideout. He wonders what HoSeok was thinking when he brought the plant home and how he feels caring for it. The paths rejoin with HoSeok stirring on the bed, mumbling “Mmm… Mom… Don’t go…” SeokJin recalls that HoSeok called for his mother when he fell asleep in high school. “Is the memory of losing his mom related to his narcolepsy?” he thinks. “Are you okay, HoSeok?” SeokJin asks when HoSeok opens his eyes. HoSeok is confused to find himself at home. SeokJin explains that he happened to see him collapse as he was passing by and assures him that he spoke to his manager. “HoSeok, you know how you keep collapsing… The hospital doesn’t know why yet? You don’t have any idea what makes you collapse, either?” he presses. But HoSeok shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
On 10 May, HoSeok receives a call from one of the younger kids from the children’s home while getting ready for work in his apartment. The kid informs him that Auntie JungHee isn’t working at the home anymore because she has been diagnosed with late-stage colon cancer. She is scheduled to have surgery, but the chances of success are low. HoSeok’s mind goes blank, and he hangs up. When he rushes outside, he runs into SeokJin. “I stopped by because I was worried. Are you headed out?” asks SeokJin. Consumed with the thought of getting to Auntie, HoSeok says he needs to visit JungHee and doesn’t have time to ask why SeokJin is there. SeokJin follows, offering him a ride. The player chooses to have HoSeok either get in the car or refuse the ride. In the first path, HoSeok pretends to be calm when explaining the situation to SeokJin, but his voice noticeably trembles. In the second path, he declines because he’s afraid that speaking about it will make it come true, and then he runs to the bus stop.
The story cuts to HoSeok standing on the bridge, unable to remember how he made it to Auntie’s house after saying goodbye to SeokJin. He can only recall the face he saw through one of the open windows of Auntie’s house: JungHee laughing as she chatted with someone. The news of her illness and the low success rate of the surgery seems like a lie. She was the first person he could rely on after HoSeok lost his mom. He can’t shake off the vision of himself standing in front of the carousel “like an idiot.” Head spinning, he thinks, “I just wanted them to stay by my side. Is that too much to ask? What kind of terrible thing have I ever done?” The perspective switches to SeokJin as he watches HoSeok walk precariously across the bridge, looking both shocked and deeply sad. He reflects on his failed attempts to prevent HoSeok from collapsing here. Even if he stays with HoSeok like he did with JungKook or intervenes like he did with YoonGi, HoSeok always runs to JungHee’s home and then collapses on this bridge on his way back. SeokJin is aware that JungHee has cancer (so the first path of the branching choices has happened at least once, or he found out in earlier loops). The extra collapses of this loop weigh on SeokJin’s mind too. Something changed after HoSeok met DongJin, and SeokJin regrets taking him to the bar on 5 May. He looks on as HoSeok inevitably staggers and falls in the same spot.
SeokJin calls 119 and has HoSeok admitted to the hospital. As before, HoSeok is placed in the same hospital room of the surgery ward as JiMin. SeokJin decides not to visit him because he is afraid of running into JiMin and unsure of what will play out if he does. Now that HoSeok is in the hospital, there is no way to avoid the future accident in the stairwell. A few days later, SeokJin scopes out the scene. He mulls over the repeating scenario of HoSeok chasing down the stairs after a woman he mistakes for his mother. SeokJin connects the dots between HoSeok calling for his mother in his sleep and the way he cried in front of his Auntie’s house. “Everything has to do with ‘mom.’ If HoSeok’s narcolepsy is because of ‘mom,’ does that mean this accident is connected to the idea of mom, too?” In other loops in which SeokJin successfully prevented the stairwell accident, HoSeok continued to collapse more frequently until he eventually did so in the street. SeokJin contemplates how his condition apparently worsens after he sees a woman that reminds him of his mother.
The day after HoSeok is admitted to the hospital, 11 May, SeokJin invites NamJoon to meet him at a cart bar after his work shift. NamJoon brings up HoSeok first. Unable to say that he was the one to call for help, SeokJin pretends to be surprised that HoSeok is in the hospital. NamJoon reports that HoSeok had a minor concussion and is staying there for a couple days so the doctors can run additional tests. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok dreamt of his mother again and feels a pang at the image of him haunted by nightmares. He proceeds to tell NamJoon about their visit to the children’s home, meeting DongJin, and learning about the auntie’s illness. Cautiously, SeokJin proposes that HoSeok’s collapsing may be related to his mother. NamJoon mulls it over before agreeing. “I guess it could. Thinking about his auntie might have led him to think about his mom.” “I’m sure he feels like he’s losing his mother a second time,” SeokJin adds. NamJoon asks if he knows HoSeok’s wish to become a famous dancer in order to find his mom, although his dancing grew into a genuine source of joy. “So I thought… Dance had become Jung HoSeok’s cure. Something that helps him hold on. The thing that helps him bear something he can’t otherwise. That’s what dance is to HoSeok. Don’t you have something like that, SeokJin?” NamJoon regards him silently after this, leaving SeokJin much to contemplate. They promise to visit HoSeok together at the hospital. SeokJin hopes that if NamJoon knows just how much dancing means to HoSeok, he may figure out something from HoSeok’s reaction in the stairwell that SeokJin has missed. He just needs to figure out a natural way to get NamJoon into the stairwell at the right time.
On 12 May, SeokJin and NamJoon meet at the hospital. SeokJin suggests that they take the stairs since the elevators are crowded and lies about HoSeok being on the 3rd floor to strengthen his excuse. When they arrive on the 2nd floor landing, they hear footsteps and voices from above. The woman descending the stairs with a child is the one whom HoSeok keeps mistaking for his mother. SeokJin needs to stall until HoSeok comes down too, so he either suggests that they buy some snacks to bring or mentions that he may have got the wrong floor number and checks his phone. Moments later, they hear pounding footsteps and HoSeok shouting, “Mom!” NamJoon locks eyes with HoSeok and, unaware of what is about to happen, turns to follow the woman. “Ma’am! Excuse me!” Caught off guard, SeokJin is too late to grab HoSeok, who falls and screams. As he rolls on the floor clutching his leg, sealing the injury that will prevent him from dancing, the glass shatters.
SeokJin involves NamJoon in several more loops after that, but his attempts to save HoSeok end in failure. He wonders again if he should admit HoSeok to the hospital at all, but decides that if the incident is connected to HoSeok’s trauma, it needs to be solved rather than avoided. On a new 12 May, SeokJin stands near the hospital stairwell, prepared to intervene himself and ask HoSeok about his mother afterward. He spots JiMin emerging from the 2nd floor physical therapy room and pressing the elevator button. Hiding out of sight in the stairwell, SeokJin mulls over his options. If he prevents HoSeok’s accident, he still needs to get JiMin out of the hospital too—an effort that has been unsuccessful so far due to JiMin stopping at the exit or later having a seizure when they pass the arboretum. “Maybe the answer to HoSeok is… JiMin? What if… this incident is the variable between HoSeok and JiMin?” Heart pounding, SeokJin begins to hope that they can save each other. He doesn’t have enough time before HoSeok comes down the stairs to figure out what to say to JiMin and decides that he will just have to make the reason for his presence in the hospital believable. “JiMin!” he calls. “SeokJin? How are you here—” Looking shocked, JiMin steps back like he’s about to run away. SeokJin realizes that they haven’t met in this loop yet, and JiMin strongly dislikes people knowing that he’s in the hospital. With no time to explain, SeokJin leaves him behind and rushes into the stairwell. But he’s too late to catch HoSeok’s fall, and the story concludes with the glass shattering once again. (Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.)
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Additional Thoughts
JiMin’s mother, Sim SeonMi, becomes one of the most fleshed-out adult characters in the BU narrative so far thanks to his story. We already knew the most about SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, due to his role in The Notes 2. I’ve had an inkling of a suspicion that JiMin’s parents were connected in some way to SeokJin’s father, so I was satisfied to see this confirmed in the game. I’m curious about JiMin’s father and the lack of details surrounding him. He has only been depicted once in The Notes 1, when JiMin returned home days after sneaking out of the hospital with his friends.
Though it’s never explicitly stated in the texts, the Wings Short Film #6 MAMA depicts that HoSeok is diagnosed with Munchausen’s syndrome, a psychological disorder in which the individual pretends to be ill or deliberately produces symptoms of the illness. His prescription pills are actually placebos. On 16 May Year 22 in The Notes 1, HoSeok confesses to JiMin that his narcolepsy is fake, although he doesn’t feign symptoms on purpose.
I was personally a little disappointed with the lack of new information in HoSeok’s story. While his relationships with the auntie and other children from the home are explored in greater detail, the most significant plot points if his arc have already been covered as of The Notes 2.
I have no proof for this, but I want the unidentified crying boy who young HoSeok met in the hospital stairwell and brought to the rooftop to see the fireworks to be JiMin. If HoSeok was 9 at the time, then JiMin was 7. He has been in and out of the hospital since the arboretum incident (earlier that same year), so it is plausible that he had an overlapping stay with HoSeok in the summer of Year 11.
As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.
Stopped Time — tl;dr commentary
In the opening cutscene, JiMin plays on the colored tiles in a hospital hallway and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.
The Songho Foundation patron meeting that SeokJin attends on 22 April Year 22 was suggested by the city’s Deputy Mayor at the inauguration ceremony on 11 April. That earlier ceremony played out in JungKook’s arc.
Before the loop reset, SeokJin waits outside the Gyeong Il Hospital as he plans his next move since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.
In this story, SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him free JiMin from the hospital. He hopes that TaeHyung will be JiMin’s “answer,” just like YoonGi needed JungKook. JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward. However, SeokJin and TaeHyung are caught by JiMin’s mother while trying to leave the hospital with him. We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.
Before coldly leaving SeokJin and TaeHyung to rejoin her son, Sim SeonMi touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1. To SeokJin, her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. This echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.
At the end of the story, the vision JiMin sees reflected in the sink water of “that day” is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.
Someone Left Behind — tl;dr commentary
In the story’s opening, SeokJin refers to HoSeok’s collapse on 10 May. This is the date that HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and it is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.
When SeokJin observes that HoSeok is on good terms with the kids from the children’s home, HoSeok explains that he’s only been out of the home for about three months. He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.
As he does in the game, HoSeok refers to the trains as “rockets” in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.
HoSeok’s memory of being abandoned at the carousel is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.
When searching HoSeok’s apartment, SeokJin notices the laptop’s web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.
At the end of the story, SeokJin hopes to gain JiMin’s help to save HoSeok but ends up spooking him because they haven’t met in that loop yet. Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.
Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 4, featuring TaeHyung and the Epilogue.
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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago
Text
Admiring the view
Masterlist
Warnings: Adult content +18 only!, smut, fluff , slight angst, window sex, bitches being bitchy,posessive male
A/n:Enjoyed writing this let me know what you think, im trying desperatly to keep bruce in character any way enjoy xxx
You and Bruce plan to meet for lunch at the tower thats if your let into the building.
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Admiring The View
Bruce sat tapping a foot impatiently under the desk as the man in front of him drolled on about a 'funny thing that happened at golf last week' that wasn't actually that funny or interesting. But being the perfect business man that he is he still managed to force a laugh looking invested into the story that was meant to butter him up. The man Mr Fells owner of a computer parts manufacturer was tying to get in his good graces so Bruce would loan him an extortionate some money to start another company as his current one sunk into bankruptcy after being sued. The man had effectively stolen a whole generation of employee's pension's counting the money they paid in as profits and had been spent on Mr Fell's new yacht . It was a nice boat, he might buy it off of the man when he becomes bankrupt. He smirked at that. When the time came for his employees to retire they found they couldn't withdraw anything and was in the middle of a court battle. Bruce was not going to give this man a cent not that the greasy old fuck knew that yet. He fished in his pocket checking his phone for what seemed the hundredth time. He smiled when he saw the text he'd been awaiting all day from you.
-Just got off the bus, be there in five xx
"Sorry am I keeping you from something Bruce?" The man asked as Bruce locked his phone leaving it on his desk.
"Well I do have another appointment in about 5 minutes so I'm going to have to ask you to leave it there, I will have a decision for you in the next few days, I will have Mary phone you." He said still standing behind the desk, really he wanted to tell the man that he could go fuck himself, call him a sleaze ball and tell him that he wasn't getting anything.But that was bad business. Bruce followed him to the door shaking hands with him as he entered the elevator. His face dropped once the doors closed and he walked back across the large waiting area.
"Still trying to screw you over then?" His secretary Mary called out to him, a woman in her late thirties that he was glad to have her around she was laid back more friend than employee which made people gossip, trying to make up an 'office romance' despite her being happily married to a lovely woman named Chelsea he smiled.
"Yeah seems more now ,he's desperate find out whats happened would you? And in the next few days phone him up and tell him to fuck off." He replied
"I will ring and inform him that Wayne enterprises has decided to decline an investment into his new venture.... unless I'm allowed to actually tell him to fuck off? if that's the case give me ten minutes I'll go down and do it now face to face" She laughed he rolled his eyes.
"Maybe option one is more appropriate, option two can be the back up."
"Build my hopes and tear me down why don't you and I'm glad that your finally throwing him out, if I have to have to sit here and listen to his misogynistic prattle I will kill him Bruce, and don't think I'm joking either I know were I'd dump the body, I've had fantasies."
"Oh really? didn't think he was your type" he said teasingly
"You know what I meant"
"There nothing else on today?" He said chuckling a little approaching her behind the desk peaking at her screen she gave him a look over her thick 'boho' glasses then sighed
"No not that I can see" he nodded patting her shoulder
"Tell you what pack up and have the rest of the day to yourself . Think of it as an apology for having to put up with Mr Fells in here today" she smiled slyly leaning back.
"Really? You sure its got nothing to do with your visitor?" She asked teasingly he turned back and leaned over her screen knowing that notes from the main front desk came up to her directly.
"What is y/n here already?" Then stopped as she laughed out loud.
" caught you so you are waiting for someone? But you never bring them here so she must be something special. Tell me has someone managed to tame the king of Gotham himself? The great Bruce Wayne?" He pulled back crossing his arms trying to look stern before cracking a grin as she continued to smile at him cheekily.
"You could say that. Stay and meet her with any luck you'll be seeing more of her."
"You know what I think I will."
"shes taking a while tho better phone her, in case shes got herself lost."
Meanwhile
You pressed the bell for the bus to stop walking off as it pulled up to the bus stop texting Bruce that you were nearly there. You looked up at the tall building peaking between the others as it towered over the city. Today you finished early and Bruce had invited you to lunch, telling you that Alfred would pick you up. You declined stating that you paid for a yearly bus ticket and you'd bloody well get your moneys worth. You were excited you'd never been to this part of the city before and was looking forward to being shown 'the tower' as Bruce called it. Well more so looking forward to seeing the view of Gotham from soo high up. You smiled quickly crossing the road and followed the crowds of people down to the huge building.
Hesitating feeling almost under dressedas everyone walked around in there expensive suits you glanced down at your black leggings and button up slightly over sized blouse with small foxes on it and scuffed flats. You walked in to the huge lobby not entirely sure where to go, feeling a few of the people stealing glances at you security included eyeing you carefully as you looked around then decided to pull out your phone to text Bruce looking down concentrating you jumped when you were approached by security.
"Miss can I help you? Are you lost?" You smiled up at him
"Oh no, well I suppose I am, I'm just not sure where to go. Not been here before" you ended with a chuckle he nodded eyeing you up and down suspiciously
"If you go over there you can check in and find out where you need to be." He said pointing to a long black polished welcome desk with immaculate women sitting behind it. You smiled thanking him making your way over to them, you felt them watch you as you took uneasy steps to the desk. The two large security guards hovered close to you wandering around instead of returning to the main doors where they had been originally. A pretty brunette faced you faltering then smiled.
"Hello can I take your name?"
"Err y/n Cooke?" She smiled typing into the system then frowned obviously not finding you she typed away for a few moments clicking here and there then sighed eyeing you up and down.
"Ok.. if you could just take a seat over there." Pointing to a row of leather sofas in front of them. You watched as she whispered to a colleague and walked through a small hidden door leading out into the lobby she stood in front of you.
"Can I ask what you came here for today? Your not on the system." You nodded
"Bruce invited me this morning , he is finishing early and wanted to show me around." You said naively waving your phone at her she nodded sighing.
"I suppose this 'Bruce' happens to be Mr Wayne? I'm going to have to ask you to leave the grounds." You frowned as her not following.
"What? He really did ask me to come over. We're going out tonight you can ask him if you dont believe me" You said she looked at you pitifully before scoffing her face turned mean nodding to the two guards.
"Honestly you fan girls never cease to amaze me. Each one as delusional as the last, tho you more so, you really expect me to believe that someone like you is going out with Mr Wayne, sorry but I don't see him as a man who scrapes the bottom of the barrel."you gasped as her words cut into you she smirked.
" Your wasting my time,some of us in the real world actually have work to do. Get a grip what ever fantasy your living in isn't real, any relationship you think you might have doesn't exists. You think your the first woman to come in and try to Pass yourself of as a client to get into his office? No there have been many. Now I think you should leave before I call security and cause a scene. And from one woman to another get some help. This isn't healthy." She spat the words out through clenched teeth stepping back and made her way to wards the desk shaking her head as the other women giggled. You sat there for a moment trying desperately not to cry from the verbal beat down she gave you. Unsure why it had upset you so much it could be that you weret prepared for it or maybe that there was a crowd of people to see it. Sniffling back tears finally collecting yourself you rose just as you go to walk out your phone rang a photo of you and Bruce on the screen. You sighed sniffing back tears trying to sound normal held the phone to your ear
"Hi Bruce." You whispered leaning down grabbing your bag and slowly making your way to the door when the two guards began to make their way towards you.
"Hey where are you? You didn't get lost did you I knew I should have sent Alfred."
"No I didn't get lost I..well. something came up." You sniffed feeling the judgmental stares and laughs as you walked out with your head down. Trying to hold back your tears had made your voice higher. You heard him growl down the phone.
"What? What happe- are you crying?" You shook your head sniffing
"N-no dont be silly why would you think that?" you said taking a deep shuddering breath trying not to cry.
"Stop.. where are you whats happened? , y/n I can still hear you moving I said stop." He sounded stern almost angry you hadn't meant to but you did stop moving wiping at your face.
"I can't the guards are following me out, I'm being escorted out"
"What? Why?"
"No its fine... I will see you at the manor tonight"
"No you will not. You will tell me now what happened..... come one sweets what happened talk to me"For some reason that seemed to break the flood gates as tears began rolling down the sides of your face again whimpering.
"Apparently Bruce Wayne doesn't scrape the bottom of the barrel." You said bitterly into the phone wiping at your eyes sniffing as more tears fell you were so embarrassed you could hear the receptionist still laughing with her colleagues. Bruce was silent you took it as a sign to continue.
"She was just rude, said some nasty things ,she didnt believe that I was here to see you, then called security...its fine. I will just go"
"What did she say? And dont you lie to me" he growled you almost hear him his jaw clench.
"Bruce-"
"Tell me!" He was angry and sounded almost worried.
" That I'm delusional...that we dont have a relationship, you couldnt possibly be with someone like me as that means youd be scraping the bottom of the barrel." You waited for a reply he growled then bellowed down the receiver.
"Who the fuck does she think!- Hold on are you still down stairs? Hang on" He moved the phone away but you still heard him speaking you cringed he sounded angry. Very angry you picked up his shoes tapping quickly across the floor.
"Mary, has a security call been made in the lobby? It has? Cancel it.. now yes. And find out who the fuck is on lobby" You heard the faint sound of elevator doors closing but paid no mind as you looked at the two men came up behind you trying to usher you out.
"I'm on my way now you stay exactly where you are. I mean it don't you dare leave this building, if you let them scared you away there will be hell to pay" he ground out then hung up.You sighed looking into your phone taking a moment to brace yourself before dropping it in your bag zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder wiping at your eyes. The guard spoke up as you didn't move opting to turn around looking for at the elevators finding them easily as one counted down through the floors from the top. It must have been Bruce. You counted with it for a few breaths if it was him he was already half way down the building.
"Miss your going to have to leave." You snapped your head away and shook your head at them.
"You don't understand-"
"No you don't understand you've been asked to leave"
"And I've also just been ordered to stay put by Bruce" you replied more confident now that you knew Bruce was coming down to get you. Getting a glare he took a threatening step towards you.
"If you don't remove yourself then I'm going to be forced to remove you and press charges of trespassing which will go on your record and you will be banned from all Wayne enterprises owned establishments."
"Well you can try, but I doubt he will let that happen this has been a huge misunderstanding." He sighed at you
"Please don't make me drag you out" you saw the elevator doors open revealing your very pissed off looking boyfriend. You flinched he looked almost scary standing taller, he carried himself... different he looked determined then he locked eyes with you and you froze, that intense gaze made you quiver.
"Well don't say I didn't try to warn you" he frowned at that not noticing the way people parted letting the big boss storm across the lobby uninterrupted. Glancing at him as they all but jumped out of his way not wanting to have that anger directed at them , watching to see what poor soul was gojng to be on the receiving end. Bruce's quick steps and angry aura was quickly drawing the attention of the whole lobby as the small crowd watched Bruce quickly cut across the space. Holy shit he looked incredible.The security guard grabbed your forearm ready to drag you out as Bruce stopped behind him.
"What is going on here?" The man gasped turning around as he heard the sharp edge to Bruce's words. Bruce looked at the hand on your arm and practically snarled posessively
"Is he bothering you love?." The guard stood back dropping your arm as if it had scalded him looking between the two of you as Bruce held out a hand catching your wrist gently.
"Mr Wayne you know this women?" He asked panicked Bruce pulled you to him by your arm looking to see if the guard had left any marks rubbing it gently. He glanced at the shorter man with stern eyes pulling you off to the side putting you behind him a little.
"Well I'd hope so considering she's my girlfriend." You gaped at him not expecting him to be so blunt or loud he was loud enough for those around you to hear. The onlookers did a shitty job of covering there shock as they continued to eavesdrop. You snapped out of it placing a hand on his chest trying to calm him down as he squared up against the man who dared touch you. You felt sorry to the guard he didnt do anything wrong in your eyes.
"Bruce he was just doing his job." he huffed casting a look down at you contemplating.
"Your right love. Could you tell me who told you to escort her out of the building?" he raised a hand in the direction of the welcome desk. You heard the poor man sigh in relief as Bruce cast his icy gaze at the desk pulling you behind him you staggered before he grabbed your waist possessively pulling you beside him tucking you into his body protectivly tracing small circles with his fingers in an attempt to calm you.
"Bruce, just leave it please can we go upstairs" you pleaded quietly to him he frowned
"we will but not yet, who upset you?" he asked waving a hand across the desk motioning to the women.
"Bruce please it wasn't that bad lets go"
"No I'm not leaving until I have a word with her, now you can stall all you want sweets but I'm going to find out who it was. No one treats you like that especially in MY company now are you going to be a good girl and tell me?" you couldn't help the way your pussy fluttered at his words, you'd never seen him this protective before a part of you relished in it wanted more even, this was Bruce the boss. Determined and dominant. He looked devastatingly sexy wound tight standing taller and broader, not bothering to pay any mind to the others whispering around him, you felt safe knowing you were here in the arms of the biggest alpha male in the room. Probably the whole tower. He sighed looking at you from the top of his eyes.
"You wont tell me fine then, I'm a good detective I'm sure I can work it out" he stated simply pulling you the few feet up to the desk all of the women squirmed uneasy under his heavy gaze as he looked across them. The one who had upset you shrunk looking more frightened then the others, she shuddered when Bruce locked onto her.
"Considering how panicked you look I'm assuming you are the one who dealt with Miss Cooke?" he said evenly she looked up slowly nodding. Eyes wide gulping. you couldn't help it as your pussy throbbed and you nipples pebbled as bruces stern voice seemed to dominate the huge lobby ,the once nasty smug woman was now cowering slightly.
"I'd like to know what happened" he ordered in a deep voice your breathing bacame shallow at the sound, she started stuttering a reply.
"W-well Mr Wayne.. I-I took her name and c-couldn't find her on the system, I checked all departments and bookings and she wasn't on there so asked her to wait in the lobby... i-it could have been an error." he nodded understanding that even with the top of the range computers he had there was still room for error mostly human error but it did happen ,he motioned for her to go on.
"Then when I came out to ask here where she was headed.... I'm sorry Mr Wayne I didn't believe her.. she said that she was coming to see you I thought she was another girl trying to sneak past the desk I'm so sorry." she quivered. So did you but not necessarily for the same reason flushing a little not just at the attention you had directed your way but also because of the heat that was building between your legs. It didn't help having his warm hand pressing on the side of your waist low enough that it cupped the swell of your hip the heal of his hand covering the top of your ass. you shifted from one foot to the other trying to relieve some of the ache as your movement rubbed your swollen clit between your lips.oh fuck.
"Tell me what are you supposed to do when someone comes in asking for me personally? I'm sure that it was covered in your training" he asked with a heavy tone. You whined in your throat hearing the thick stern voice carry throught the lobby, which had become very quiet. He massaged his fingers into your side letting you mnow he had heard you flushed brighter. She cleared her throat.
"Er-erm we are supposed to message Mary on your floor." she answered wishing the floor could swallow her up.
"Yes but instead you decided to make derogatory remarks to her and embarrass her before having her thrown out. Why is that?" he said making her gulp as she stood pin straight shaking a little fully prepaird to be sacked on the spot he didn't give the woman a chance to reply.
"Tell me what was the comment about me scraping the bottom of the barrel? Or how about you tell me why i couldnt possibly be with a beautiful woman such as her? Or you could explain to me when it became apropriate for you to call my geusts delusional? do you think that is the type of professionalism people expect to find here? that this is the type of people I want representing my company on any level least of all the front line? " he snapped out at her you grasped his blazer.
"Bruce enough,, its done ok? its done please?" he looked from your pleading face to the thoroughly embarrassed woman who looked like she was about to cry. He lifted a hand pulling a tissue from the box on the desk offering it to her, she reached out slowly accepting it. He took a deep breath, part of him wanted to continue. This woman had made you cry, made you feel less than yourself after he'd spent the last few months building up your confidence. But worst of all she made you want to run from him. You had only just stopped questioning your relationship. And this woman had nearly destroyed your new found confidence for no other reason then to make herself look and feel important.
"Go home, take today off tomorrow you will resit the training for this position including the probation period and hopefully you can continue here with a fresh attitude following all protocols, I am not running a school playground I am running a company and this childish bullying has no place here if you dont sort it out your out do I make myself clear." he scolded she used the tissue wiping her eyes nodding
"Yes Mr Wayne" thanking him yet absolutely mortified that she'd been dressed down to such a degree in front of everyone. Bruce satisfied turned walking to the elevators pulling you in along side him, you couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the woman as you took a fleeting glance at her as the doors began to close on the scene catching the gasps as bruce tucked his face into your hair kissing you just befor they shut completely.
"Are you ok now?" he asked stepping closer rubbing your shoulders kissing the back of your neck. you shuddered moaning softly try to contain it you knew you'd failed as he smirked nipping you lightly.
Ooh I think you are? is someone a little worked up?" he wound his arms around your waist tugging you back flush against him slipping a hand between your legs. You moaned rocking into him.
"I've never seen you like that... well only on our second date but you weren't as ... intense you were so sexy.... I think I've got a new fantasy" you summarised he hummed cradling you hiding his face in your neck taking a slow breath before pulling back releasing your mound much to your despair.
"I will see to you in a moment, but I would like to introduce someone to you." he winked making you blush. The doors opened revealing a large modern hall that opened to a medium sized stylish waiting area secretary desk to the left of a heavy looking door with frosted glass paneling the same frosted glass on one side of the door behind the desk A tall woman sat at. she stood up laughing.
"I've got to say Wayne that just made up for my day sitting with Mr Fells."
"You watche dthrough security then?" He asked directing you towarss her she nodded
"The secretaries name is Kirsty Knell, she has a track record of being rude acordjng to the complaints at HR, two major incidents gaining two strikes technically she should be let go as this is her thrid but you've already said for retraining she wont last this probation,she doesn't play well with women it seems. But Ive already sent for her to retrain for the remainder of the week" she said as you both came to a stop befor the desk she come out from behinde the desk holding out a hand
"Hello I'm mary Collins Bruce's secartary" you smiled shaking her hand
"Y/n Cooke ,Bruces..girlfriend nice to meet you" she smiled giving Bruce a playful wink
"Well can I just say he is a lucky man."
"Oh er haha thank you?" you stuttered blushing unsure what to make of the energetic woman.
"Tomorrow phone up Clark for an interview about Y/n I don't care when, book it for at the manor." she nodded at him more interested in watching you.
"Will do.....oh Bruce she's adorable.... Anyway theres a new pass on the desk for her to keep... and thats about it I'm off gonna go surprise the missus at work. See you on Thursday. Make good choices." she left through the still waiting elevator. you stared after her as the doors closed. Bruce laughed picking up the pass and small card that had the companies logo on it.
"This is for you ,it'll get you in and around the building tho after today I doubt anyone is going to stop you again." you took it sliding it into your bag
"Why couldn't you have given me this before?" you cried at him he raised an eyebrow.
"Are you whining? it sounds like your whining, and I was going to give it to you today front desk is meant to message Mary when someone asks to see me" you pouted a little following him into his office. You looked around , it was sleek and modern then you gasped as you spotted the huge floor to ceiling window to the back it had a beautiful view of Gotham... and made you realise you were high..... really high you slowly walked around the chairs and desk dropping your bag on one of the chairs.
"I've never been this high up before." he traced your steps standing behind you as you tentatively touched the cool glas feeling as tho you could fall.
"Sounds like a challenge, are you sure feeling better now?" you rolled your eyes at him when he asked
"Yes I'm fine... cant blame them I mean I'm not what you usually go for.. but you did just reduce her to tears... and it was so hot I've never seen you in boss mode before" he groaned in your ear shifting a little turning you around pushing you against the glass. You trembled as the cool of the glass penetrated your thin blouse.
" I love you" you smiled leaning in kissing him gently then pulled away.
"I love you to" you gasped not noticing him move until his hand cupped you through your leggings again, lifting to your tip toes as he curled a finger slipping it between your needy lips running back and forth across your opening then settled on your clit rolling it hard.
"wow I suppose you really did like that display downstairs your almost flooding your panties, tell me how much did it turn you on when I came down there to put people in there place?" you moaned nodding as his fingers swirled finding your entrance again digging deeper pumping in and out in strong shallow thrusts through your leggings and panties.
"A lot OOHH FUCKBruce we cant,...OOHH God .. Bruuuce your not playing fair." you whined as he continued to play with you knowing just how to toe the line before letting you build to fast.
"Ooohh but baby we can." he whispered against your temple then spinning you he maneuvered you around to face the window pressing your breasts and side of your face on it pulling your hips back securing your arms across the back of your waist as one large hand curled around both crossed forearms. He ground himself against you. You let out a cry trying to wiggle away from him. But just ended up fubbjng your breasts on the cool glass making your nippled impossibly hard.
"Bruce oh my god some one will see!" you admonished at him confused as to why the thought of being caught thrilled you sending a hot rush down you spine setteling in your fluttering lower tummy. He leaned over you brushing his erection against you his chest ghosting your back, letting out a breathy chuckle in your ear before dropping his voice down and octave.
"I know exciting isn't it?" you whined out at him in protest as he rubbed himself across you with descisive strokes teasing you in the way only he knew how
"Bruuuce" you tried again he laughed
"Don't worry sweets we are at least 6 stories above everyone else, you think I'd ever let anyone else see you?"
"YES! of course you would." you yelled unable to stop yourself from grinding back on him he really did laugh at that kissing your neck he noticed that his marks had healed. He tutted couldn't have that now could we?. You squeaked at him when a hand crept up to your throat holding you still as he began kissing your neck, sloppy opened mouthed kisses following licks and bites tugging lightly between his teeth, you closed your eyes tight as your body sung under his ministrations.
"OH-OOHH Bruce pleas-PLEASE fuck." you moaned and withered as he used his hips to stop your movements tucking them under you slightly before thrusting up grinding on your engorged clit nearly taking your weight off your feet.
"AAHH SHIT!" you let out a high keen as he rocked his pelvis side to side his cock rubbing across you through clothes you now wished wasn't there. He pulled back spying the purple mark blossoming on your neck he gave a final lick before moving to stand tall behind you pressing on the dip between your shoulders as you tried to follow him.
"Ah ah not so fast I'm not done with you yet, there was so many things I had planned in here for today... but I'm afraid you will have to settle for a quicky instead...after all I have made lunch reservations." he said as he dragged down your leggings and panties one hand bunched up the blouse that hung over your ass hiding your quivering pussy. Securing it in the hand that held your arms steady he licked his lips as he revealed the juicy plump lips that peaked out from between your thighs. You gasped rubbing your thighs together trying to ease some of the tension you could feel his eyes staring at you. He chuckled enjoying the mewls he cause when he started slapping your thighs untill they parted he undid his zipper pulling himself free before letting your pussy kiss the crown of his cock lightly. You rocked back trying to get him to do ... Somthing anything.
"OH baby is this what you want?" he asked teasing you pressing the head just inside of you just so you felt the first sting of him stretching you before pulling out tapping your clit with it. You sobbed nodding
"I thought you said this was a quicky?" you protested trying to follow him back. Growling aggravated when the hand holding your arms stopped you just shy of him.
"Well You've got me there" that was all the warning you got as he thrust forward bottoming out. You cried in shock as he held still arching his hips up into you forcing you to curve your spine and then some, like always he stretched your walls tight causeing a small sting that always make you quiver around him it sent tingles through your whole body and made your skin prickle, he copied his movement from before tilting up trying to support your weight on his cock only it was embedded within you this time. You moaned in slight pain as the angle had him pressed hard against your cervix. You tense fisting your hands trying to bear your weight down on him wanting more of the addictive pleasure and pain mix. He dropped his hips before thrusting back up holding you high again.
"Or maybe this is what you wanted? I'm going to fuck you and everyone will know your mine, you wont be able to walk straight when we leave thats a promise" he grunted in your ear then began pumping into you slowing building his thrusts into a merciless pace. All you could do was enjoy the ride as he railed you ,panting hard fogging the window with every breath crying and moaning as he used you chasing his own pleasure, his groans were louder as he felt your pussy tensing refusing to let got of him, he couldnt pull out even if he wanted to. You bucked against his pistoning hips feeling your climax building looking down at the peole below you felt yourself spasm arojnd him feeling him throb as his veins caught every nerve inside of you ,when the first tremors shook your body you squirmed that familiar burning heat trickled down into your tummy falling lower and lower as your tummy tensed again and again, he must have felt it as he lowered his hand catching your clit rolling it back and forth. One harsh pinch is all it took for you to fall throwing your head back
"BRUUUCE AH FUCK" you cried high and loud as your body was overcome by bone rattling shudders your pussy spasming around him as you came your pussy ,assaging hjm desperatly trying to milk him it worked as he followed instantly arching his hips up holding still one hand landing on the glass beside you the a loud thump that echoed through the office his deep grunts readched your ears desperate needy as he finished inside of you painting your insides marking it as his and his alone. Both panting he took a few seconds catching his breath then he pulled you back a few steps sitting in his high back chair taking you with him on his lap still nestled inside you, you melted into him as the final tremors ebbed away leavjng you sated and relaxed your head lolling back onto his shoulder, he glanced at the clock on the wall and chuckled
"We missed are reservation.."
"Fuck the reservation" you replied breathlessly still panting hard trying to get your breath back he kissed your shoulder through your blouse.
"Well now I can check that off the list." he said cheerfully groaning as he shifted in his chair releasing your arms rubbing them soothingly as he pulled you up his legs eagerly stuffing more of himself inside of you, you whined at the tenderness that aslway came after being with him.
"List?" you asked now having come back down to earth he nuzzled into your neck humming.
"yeah I have a list of places I want to fuck you in."
"And of course your office is one of them" you laughed weakly his chest rumbled on your back as he growled.
"Not exactly... desk was my first preference, it was the first fantasy I had of you actually... the day we met to be exact" you rolled your eyes
"your unbelievable"
"But I have to admit I've always wanted to try window sex,and mirror sex hey and maybe in the board room god knows I need something to think about to get me through those god awful meetings." you sighed at him
"Something tells me if you had your way we'd fuck in every room in this building"
"Dont tempt me that's not a bad idea" you slapped his thigh lightly
"Its a very bad idea..... imagine the chafing" he let out a belly laugh before leaning forward catching your panties and leggings in one and dragging them over your knees removing himself carefully he pulled them back up patting your bottom
"There we go now how about we get out of here?" he said putting himself back into his trousers zipping them back up you stood taking small steps on shaky legs grabbing the desk as you nearly fell he smirked
"Oh shut up" you said seeing the smug man raise his hands
"Didn't say a word" he held you steady handing you your bag going to the elevator hitting the basement level to the company car park. you sighed leaning against him.
"So where are we going then?" you asked he smoothed the hair away from your neck leaving a kiss on it.
"Home? Tim's coffee machine has been installed so I'd like you to test it before he comes home just to see if it works."
"He got the one we have at work didn't he?"
"yep"
"Why doesn't that surprise me? I'll give it a go but I really would like a shower first" he shook his head pushing you out of the doors to the Aston Martin parked in his spot unlocking it.
"That's a thought I'm gonna fuck you in all my cars to. And your not allowed to have a shower yet, theres somthing about the thought of you at the manor dripping with me all day, tha just uugh it gets me going. You can join me in the shower tonight." you blushed at the thought of him watching you all day arpused knowing how messy he had made you, your pussy throbbed almost painfully.
"O-oh I'm staying over then?" he nodded entering the car you followed
"Yes your staying for a while now that we are going public, and it might be an idea to take a week off, I just want you close until the initial buzz is over." you nodded as he started up the car.
"A-are you ok with all that?" he smiled beaming at you
"Of course I love you and I'm not letting you go your stuck with me I'm afraid. I'm looking forward to being able to show you off, knowing Mary she will phone him today so Clark will probably be in touch within the next few days I would have thought the interview will be Friday or even Saturday. So you'll probably be at the manor for the next 2 weeks or so" he pulled the car out of the car park onto the main road you nodded
"I will tell Jack to go and pack some bags and come over."
"No need I will have Alfred pick him up when he goes to pick up Damien and explain it to him..they can stop at yours on the way home... how do you feel about Jacuzzi sex?" you rolled your eyes
"How did you go from Jack packing bags to pool sex?"
"I thought about telling him not to bother bringing your swimming costume. He and Damien have been swimming lately." you laughed leaning back in the seat shifting whimpering as you felt him seeping onto your panties.
"Are you sure I cant shower when we get back, This is uncomfortable." he gave you a side glance you could see his mind working but he said nothing.
"Ok how about this you let me shower and then we can have Jacuzzi sex tomorrow when the boys are at school?" you reasoned
"Share the shower to save water?"you nodded giggling at his compromise.
"Deal" he agreed way to quickly
"H-HEY! was that a set up?!? you are unbelievable Mr Wayne" he smirked gripping your thigh massaging it with his fingers you pouted.
"Unbelievably good getting shower sex and Jacuzzi sex, fuck yes, three days and three things off my list I'm on a roll." he said pulling of the main road. Honestly this man was always running rings around you.
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indestinatus · 4 years ago
Text
Forgotten Flannel
TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 8
↳ prompt:  Flannel/Sweater/Scarf - rated T (1,102 words)
summary: Tony, Ziva and a flannel shirt. Alternating POV.
A/N: I suck at summaries, but that’s exactly it lmao I apologize.
read it on AO3 👕
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“Good morning!” Ziva exclaimed cheerfully as she entered the bullpen. It was a great day - the familiar October weather had given them a break to let the sun illuminate the cold navy yard - and there was really no reason for her to be in a bad mood.
She was in a great mood, actually. 
“Good morning, Ziva,” replied McGee with a smile, waving at her from his desk.
“Good—”
Tony’s voice died in his throat as soon as his gaze lifted to hers, his eyes turning a bit wide before his brow pulled in.
Ziva looked at him amused. “What’s wrong?” she asked, eyeing how intensely he stared. “Rat ate your tongue?”
Tony’s mouth had parted a bit, but when she sat down, he quickly closed it. Ziva watched as his elevator eyes gave her a once-over - which, to be fair, was something she was used to on a daily basis - but she was mildly surprised to see how intense his gaze was to such a normal choice of clothing in her part. 
She narrowed her eyes at his reaction, wondering what was the reason behind it.
Tony huffed as soon as she tilted her head, an amused smile tugging at his lips that made her heart speed up a bit. He glanced at McGee with the corner of his eyes and Ziva questioned the furtiveness behind the act. It was as if he knew a secret no one else did.
Yet.
Tony stared at her again, eyes locked with hers as he smirked. 
“Cat.”
Ziva’s forehead creased, but she mentally noted to question him about it later. “Thank you,” she replied, eyeing him with a new curiosity.
Tony’s eyes sparkled. “Wasn’t a compliment.”
She chuckled. “Really?” she asked, propping her elbows onto the desk. 
“Really,” Gibbs deadpanned, storming into the bullpen. “Dead marine at Quantico,” he said flatly as he threw the van keys her way. “Grab your gear.”
With the keys now in her possession, Ziva was surprised to see Tony made no comment about her driving for a change—he stood up quickly, packing his things before following Gibbs, not a word directed at her.
Interesting, she thought. She wondered what had got into him today.
°°°
He couldn’t keep his eyes from her—well, to be fair, he was used to her being a distraction—but that day might have been the worst day of his career.
Tony rubbed the back of his neck, inhaling deeply to see if some bit of self-control returned, but to no avail. As soon as he opened his eyes again, they were instantly pulled to Ziva, who was quietly taking crime scene photos and not even aware of the effect she was having on him. 
With the uneasiness growing with which passing second, Tony bit the inside of his lip as he watched her bend forward in order to get a better angle, and the arousal that that picture provoked was painfully unfair.
Before he could think better of it, he stepped towards her, taking her by the arm and pulling her into a corner. Ziva let out a protesting cry, but didn’t utter a word before they were next to the van, now out of sight from the team.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and even the small amused sparkle in them was enough to send the sirens blaring inside his head. 
Tony inhaled deeply before speaking, releasing her arm as he asked, “What are you wearing?”
Ziva huffed, but he didn’t miss how she stepped even closer into his personal space, eyeing him with interest. 
“A shirt.”
Tony let his gaze wander down to her chest, finding an old, crimson-red flannel way too familiar for him to be mistaken.
“You mean my shirt.”
He watched Ziva intently as her eyes widened a bit, right before a smirk started dancing at the corner of her lips. 
“Your shirt?” she asked with a slight frown, her eyes flickering to his mouth and then back up again. 
“Yeah.” Tony took a step closer, the air now feeling heavier as he started to share her breath. “The one I thought I had lost. But apparently, I just forgot it at your place.”
Ziva raised an eyebrow, huffing softly. 
Would she try to deny it? 
He remembered that night quite well, though the alcohol always made him think the shirt had been misplaced elsewhere. 
“It’s a favorite,” he declared, lifting a hand to play with its seams. 
“It’s not yours.”
Ziva’s eyes locked with his, and he instantly saw the sparkle in them that told him she was lying.
Tony gave a light chuckle, saying, “I know my clothes.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” He let his eyes flicker to her mouth and was amused to see hers darken in effect. It would’ve been so easy to shorten the distance between them then, just capture her lips with his own.
“You can keep it if you want to,” Tony licked his lips. “Remember my scent as you fall asleep.”
Ziva chuckled. “How pretentious of you.”
“Or perhaps wear it to work just so you can gauge my reaction.”
Ziva’s lips twitched in a smirk, and Tony understood that was exactly what she’d meant—be as much as a distraction to him as possible. He questioned if she knew all along then, perhaps the sway of her hips and the stolen glances had been more exaggerated than usual.
“Hm,” she hummed, not admitting to it.
Tony eyed the shirt again, taking his time. When his gaze lifted to hers, he noticed her hooded eyes glisten, the desire now evident.
“You look way better in it,” he said lowly, not surprised to see that his breathing had turned uneven. Ziva was dangerously close to his face, her mouth mere inches from his. It was turning almost unbearable, how heavy the air felt. 
“Hm,” she let her eyes fix on his mouth. “Perhaps I should wear it more.”
With his pulse racing, Tony felt her hand lift to his arm, her thumb softly tracing his biceps, and the urge to kiss her senseless right then and there turned acutely high.
“My place tonight?” he asked without thinking, placing his hands on her waist. He watched her blink a few times, perhaps as affected by the closeness as he was. 
“Okay.” Ziva’s frown softened.
Tony chuckled lightly, then leaned in to whisper something on her ear at the same time he squeezed her waist. 
“Wear the shirt.”
When he drew back again, Ziva was smirking.
“Oh, Tony.” She let her hand stroke his chest lazily. “I rather wear nothing at all.”
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vampylovesaliens · 3 years ago
Text
Duality - p17
--out of depth
“You’re asking a great deal.” Dre’vik-kha’s eyes narrowed as she regarded Silas, the human shifting uncomfortably under the harsh nature of her gaze. “You’ve only just earned yourself enough trust to walk among us; you really want to push for your kind to be allowed free reign in our jungle? What they haven’t already destroyed, that is.” She clicked irritably, her mandibles flexing and her spine-studded brow furrowing deeply.
Silas cleared his throat awkwardly as he held his head up, making himself hold her stare even though it went against his instincts. “Not free reign; I don’t expect that. I just...thought it might help to soothe tensions if we….er, they...were given permission to do some field work. Right now they’re understandably too tense to risk stepping outside, even without KNOWING you’ll do anything to them, but I thought a compromise would--”
She uttered a growl that silenced him, and for a terrifying moment Silas wondered if he’d made a critical mistake in even bringing up the subject. “A COMPROMISE.” She repeated loudly, her claws flexing at her side as she stepped toward him, one stride already drastically reducing the distance between them as they stood there in her dwelling, her Youngbloods watching silently from the side, knowing better than to interfere. “You ask me to compromise with your kin, who have invaded and destroyed my territory? By all rights, I should be adorning this village with their bones, Silas.” His name dripped from her tongue laced with anger, and Silas scowled. He understood her anger, but at the same time it frustrated him. The stalemate couldn’t go on forever, and since she apparently wouldn’t--or couldn’t--be the one to break it, he knew it was only a matter of time before his people made that move for her.
“So why haven’t you, then? I’m trying to HELP, here.” He lifted his hands placatingly as her eyes flashed at his challenging tone. “I’m just saying, there’s clearly more going on here. You’re not afraid of us, but you won’t start a fight either; I’m just trying to find a way to smooth things out before one starts regardless.”
Dre’vik-kha’s mandibles twitched restlessly, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She closed the distance between them quickly, and Silas flinched reflexively as her claws closed around his neck, his pulse beating frantically against her palm as she took hold of him just firmly enough to be threatening without actually placing pressure on his breathing. “We do not need you to be our savior, Silas. You overestimate your significance.”
He swallowed tensely, the sharp edge of her claws as they rested against the nape of his neck scraping lightly through the fine hairs on his skin. He looked up at her silently, weighing her words as he forced himself to hold her gaze despite the ferocity in her angry eyes, the vivid blue of her irises bright with barely-suppressed emotion. Finally he lowered his gaze again deferentially. “...I’m sorry. You’re...you’re right, I’m not a savior. But still, things can’t stay like this forever.”
“They won’t.” She released him, apparently satisfied with his submission. “I am not sitting here taking no action whatsoever, if you must know. But I am only a Matriarch of one small clan, Silas. I will not endanger my people needlessly, not without support from the Primarchs.” She scoffed, shaking her head as if disappointed--in him, he wondered? “Your kin have not even begun to establish themselves among the galaxy’s other peoples. Do you really think that we are the height of the Yautja civilization, here? You insult us with your platitudes.”
Silas blinked slowly, then shook his head with a grimace. Of course--he felt foolish now, thinking about it properly. She had made reference to the rest of their kind before after all, had talked about their expansive reach through the universe. Of course she would have to communicate to higher-ups somewhere else. Now he found himself wondering if his concern was really so ill-placed; if there was such a powerful force out there then surely their trespassing would be all too simple to obliterate. He grumbled to himself, rubbing his hands over his face to try and soothe the burning in his cheeks; he was embarrassed, frustrated with himself for overlooking what seemed so obvious, but at the same time it didn’t diminish the imminent tension that loomed over them all. When he looked up, Dre’vik-kha had turned away, the irritable rattling in her throat unchanged as she spoke a few curt words in their harsh language to the Youngbloods that had wisely remained out of the conversation. As they turned to leave the dwelling again she looked back at Silas with a withering glare. “You can tell your people they are free to do their research in the land they have already razed down; they may as well make use of it. But they set foot in the jungle at their own risk.” The threat was palpable even without elaboration. “Go report that.”
He didn’t dare to find relief in her...permission, such as it was; there was venom in her tone that made him uneasy. “...Are you sending me away?” He shifted his weight, his hands moving to clutch at the straps of his backpack anxiously. After all his arguing with Maeve he’d finally been granted her clearance to come out here again, only to now worry he’d gone and ruined his standing with the fearsome Matriarch and her kin.
Dre’vik-kha’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’ve afforded you more trust than you deserve, ooman. If you’re as dedicated as you say you are, then make your own choice.” She leered, before turning away briskly to follow the others, leaving Silas standing alone in the house. He fidgeted again, very uneasy with that response; it was a test of some sort but he wasn’t sure what the correct answer was. If he left now to report back...would she take that as a sign he’d been simply using their interaction as a tool to advance the humans’ plot here? But if he followed, would she get angry with his pestering? He chewed his lip, frowning heavily at the problem before he sighed harshly, pulling his backpack off and setting it down with a thump. “Fuck it.” He grumbled, hurrying out the door and onto the elevated walkway, looking around. Thankfully they hadn’t gone far, having just reached the platform for the lift that would take them down to the ground, and so he scrambled to catch up with his boots slipping a bit on the tough, fibrous vines that were woven into the bridge beneath him. “Wait!” He called, despite how pathetic it sounded. But it caught their attention, and Dre-vik’kha’s eyes narrowed skeptically as she watched him approach….but she did not snarl or otherwise give him a sign she did not want him there. She clicked quietly, then gave him a curt nod as he stepped up beside them, her gaze turning away. “Keep up.”
Silas nodded, but even as he braced himself for what would doubtless be a rather grueling pace to keep up with he found himself ill-prepared. The lift took them to the jungle floor, and from there the Matriarch was off at a loping jog, her Youngbloods flanking her like a small pack of deadly wolves in vaguely-humanoid skin that Silas found he was nearly having to sprint to remain in sight of them. And naturally it didn’t take long for his lungs to burn as he pulled at the heavy humid air, his muscles stiffening in protest as he forced his legs to keep churning after them. The worst part was, he was certain that they were already going slower than they normally would, for his sake. He knew it when Rok’aan broke off from the group, doubling back to jog easily at Silas’ side with a chuckle rattling behind his mask. “You don’t run like this much?”
“Not...at full pace…” Silas managed to wheeze, barely avoiding a tree root that broke through ahead of him, but the adjustment took its toll on the rest of his balance and he was force to stagger to a halt, panting as he leaned on a tree and tried to catch his breath and stop the trembling in his legs. He glanced up, watching as Rok’aan disappeared into the humid haze that hung between the trees, his heart sinking even as it hammered against his ribs. “Keep up,” she had said, and he’d failed to do even that. How could she expect anything else, though? He was just a human, and not even a soldier with intensive training. Maybe then her words had been some kind of veiled insult, a taunt knowing full well that he couldn’t manage.
His shirt was sticking to him like a second skin thanks to the moisture in the air and his own sweat, and he could feel it plastering his hair across his brow. He straightened up, cursing under his breath as he simply stripped the garment off, draping it over the raised roots he leant among, baring his chest and raking his hair back from his face. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. At least the Yautja’s prints were easy enough to follow in this casual jaunt of theirs, claws tearing and pressing distinctly into the soft dirt and moss that blanketed the jungle floor. He took a few more deep breaths to steady himself, before lurching forward to follow those tracks. Maybe he couldn’t “keep up”, but he’d be damned if he gave up.
The tracks wove through the trees and under rocky outcrops he hadn’t seen before, places where the sky opened up overhead because the canopy couldn’t extend over the more rugged, stone-heavy stretch. It was harder to follow the tracks now, as there was less dirt to mark their progress, but as Silas scanned his surroundings he felt reasonably sure where they were headed. The rocky slopes canted downward after a bit, worn tracks from generations-worth of travelers--Yautja and beast alike, from the look of it. It followed a narrow ridge in the ever-steeper crags, which opened up into a deep chamber where Silas found himself having to take a moment to absorb the scene as well as catch his breath again. A great waterfall plummeted down into a lagoon at the bottom, perfectly round, the stone smooth and crisp as it rose in great spires to cradle the falls and funnel the sound.
At the edge of the pool he saw them, Dre’vik-kha and her Youngbloods. They were talking amongst themselves, their armors discarded and set aside as they lingered in the shallow water to cool off from their trek. Silas steadied himself, his jaw flexing tensely before he started down the final stretch of the curving path to meet them, all the effort required to keep him from dragging his boots against the stone in his exhaustion.
“Hey, the ooman actually found us.” Epi’ta-kha was first to spot him, or at least first to openly acknowledge him, raising a hand to wave in a reassuringly friendly manner. “I was starting to worry something would have eaten you along the way.”
“Ooman flesh is too stringy, I would think.” Rok’aan teased, shaking his head and flinging water in spectacular arcs off his tresses. “He’d barely be a toothpick to a Mak-udra’hk.”
“Pretty sure you guys have made these jokes before.” Silas managed a half-hearted chuckle, unable to help but notice that Dre’vik-kha had said nothing, and indeed had not even looked at him yet, kneeling in the shallows and lifting water to her face, her mandibles flaring aside in order to make room for her to pour the cool liquid into her toothy mouth.
Kray-ekh’a let out a low rattle, a sound that Silas felt was both wary but approving overall, and he stepped aside to make room for the young Yautja as he left the water in order to shake off a bit, his tresses slapping across his bare shoulders. He was smaller than the twins but still tall enough it intimidated Silas, who tried to distract himself with a cough and a gesture to the chamber around them, the steady rush of the waterfall loud but not overwhelming, channeled primarily between the sheets of rock that formed its channel. “This place is...breathtaking. Is it natural? The edges all look so clean.”
“It’s said it was created by a species that lived here long before the Yautja, those who left the planet to the Mak-udra’hk. But we can only speculate.” Epi’ta-kha shrugged, stepping out alongside her brother and running her hands through her tresses to strip the water away from the smooth tendrils. Rok’aan was less-graceful, simply shaking himself again and making her hiss in annoyance as he only got more water on her as a result. “We come here for meditation sometimes, or just to relax. It’s soothing, hm?” She nudged Silas as they approached him, the human feeling almost giddy with the anxiety of the powerful aliens that towered over him, their discarded armor leaving them mostly-naked and their muscular builds only more obvious. “We’re going to climb the tower soon, so we can jump off.” Rok’aan’s mandibles flared in a grin as he gestured to the falls, where Silas could now see the sheer face of the cliff was actually studded with ridges and pockets, small ledges and hollow gaps that formed a more-or-less climbable-looking surface….all the way to the top of the waterfall itself. He got a little dizzy trying to look directly up at it from this angle. He guessed it was at least seventy feet, a daunting prospect for a human but the Yautja seemed perfectly casual, playful even. And that was not even regarding the arduous climb to get up there. But even as he weighed the unease Silas could feel his determination solidifying in the back of his mind, especially when he looked to Dre’vik-kha as she finally stood from the shallows, pacing steadily back to her young companions, and found her still solidly ignoring his presence.
“Let’s go.” She spoke curtly, and the Youngbloods clattered and snarled their excitement, leaving Silas behind as they headed for the ‘tower’, as they called it. He scrambled to follow, only to stop abruptly when Kray-ekh’a turned and held out a hand with a warning rumble. “You think you can climb that?” While the question sounded snide, he seemed genuinely curious, raising a thick brow slightly as he eyed the human.
“Er...well, yes.” Silas cleared his throat to shoo away his unease, straightening up confidently and hoping it was enough to convince them--and maybe also himself. Kray-ekh’a studied him skeptically, then shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his claws toward Silas’ boots. “You should leave those. They won’t help you climb. Take only what you need; clothing and armor only hinders.” And with that he turned to step away again after his companions, Rok’aan and Epi’ta-kha already in a furious competition to beat each other to the top of the tower while Dre’vik-kha waited for her son to go ahead of her. Silas frowned uncertainly as he headed to where they’d each left their things, trading the security and coverage of their gear for the toughness of their own hides, save for minimal coverings for the sake of politeness, he assumed. Between the males and females there was little to no dimorphism above the waist--he still wasn’t sure about beneath, but considering they were all still wearing coverings over their groins he assumed there had to be SOMETHING. He was already shirtless, a big move for someone as typically reserved as he was, but now he supposed he had to take it a step further. He set his boots aside, the damp stone warm and solid under his bare feet, and then after a moments’ further hesitation he pulled his heavy cargo pants off as well, folding them and trying not to let his very human self-consciousness creep into his head. At least he was wearing underwear, and didn’t have to deal with being nude in front of strangers--even if they were aliens.
Dre’vik-kha was already climbing after the others when he returned to the tower, steadying himself with a deep breath before he started after them himself. The irregular surface of the stone was at least kind to his smaller stature, allowing him plenty of spaces to grab and find footholds as he started, but the rock was damp and sweat already slicked his skin, making it nerve-wracking as he clambered slowly but steadily after the Yautja. Their strength alone made it an easier task, and their clawed hands and feet made keeping their grip simpler too. But Silas’ blunt phalanges were ill-suited, and he cursed under his breath as he clumsily dragged himself up the stone face. He was already worn out from the run, and he was afraid his legs might give out at any time. His arms trembled as he hauled himself up into a hollowed space in the rock, just enough room to give himself a breather without having to support his entire weight. He craned his neck and he could see the Youngbloods had already disappeared over the top of the tower, still impossibly far away. But looking down felt like he’d already scaled a mountain, and he closed his eyes for a moment to staunch the vertigo that threatened to overwhelm him.
“How’s it going, ooman?” He heard Rok’aan call, only a hint of taunting in his deep, brash voice. Silas sighed tersely, then forced an air of levity into his own before responding, “I’m getting there! You’ve got longer limbs than me, and you had a head start after all…” He heard their chuckles--the Youngblood trios’, at least. Dre’vik-kha stayed silent and that alone was almost enough to push him upward again, his jaw setting tightly as he grasped at the rocky crags. Damn it, he thought to himself, she can’t just ignore me now, after all I’ve done to get on her good side. Surely when he jumped off the waterfall she would have to grant him at least some shadow of respect again, right?
But mind-over-matter could only get him so far. His breath came in ragged gasps, his lungs burning. His muscles screamed in protest as he fought to keep himself supported, barely able to keep his grip and avoid falling, much less ascend further. He kept his mind trained solely on his task, knowing that if he slipped up he’d surely be dead if he fell from this height onto the cold stone. Even the Yautja were muttering quietly amongst themselves, the Youngbloods peering over the edge to watch his progress with what he hoped were looks of concern, but he didn’t dare raise his eyes from watching his own careful hand placements to check. What an idiot, he cursed himself. So desperate to impress these aliens he was going to get himself killed trying to follow them. He was smarter than this, or so he’d thought--
His foot slipped and he gasped, scrabbling frantically for a moment to get a grip again. He looked up--the top of the tower was so close now but this was it, he knew he could go no further and there was no way he could climb back down in his state--he was dead and they were going to witness it.
Or, that’s what his panicked brain ran through before his eyes actually registered, Dre’vik-kha having lowered herself over the side again, expertly bringing herself down closer to him without him even hearing her claws on the rocks. She reached out, his shaking and tenuous grip alleviated when she gripped his arm, hauling him up carefully to where she was. “Are you alright?” She asked, her voice a low rumble as she pulled him closer, bracing him between herself and the rock to give him a chance to rest.
“Uuh.” Silas stammered faintly between his labored breaths, needing a moment to gather his thoughts. Not only because of his near-death experience, but also now because of his position, practically resting against her as she easily clung to the rock wall. “Y-yeah, I think so. I, uh...I thought I was a goner for a second there.”
“I can tell.” She chuffed, her mandibles twitching just above his head. “Can you hold onto me? I will bring you up to the top.”
“Uhhh.” Another vague mumbling of confusion, but Silas lifted his leaden arms and awkwardly hooked them up around her neck, her long tresses falling over them in sleek black cords that shifted smoothly with every move she made. She climbed with ease, and they were at the top before he could even fully process what had happened, the Matriarch lowering him to sit on the level top before she stepped away again and left him with his confusion. The Youngbloods provided a distraction at least, crowding around to voice their approval at how far he’d managed to get, their surprise that he hadn’t fallen off far sooner--and maybe a hint of disappointment that he hadn’t sustained some kind of injury, though at least it was a friendly kind of disappointment, in some strange way. Silas simply sprawled on the flat stone, staring up through the curving barrel of rock that formed the whole chamber at the sky overhead as his mind swam. But finally he felt recollected enough to sit himself up as the Youngbloods left him there, heading for the outcrop that they intended to jump from. Dre’vik-kha stood by to make sure each was ready, letting them bicker amongst themselves for a moment to decide who was going first. Finally Kray-ekh’a won out, the twins falling in line behind him as he stepped up to the edge. He leaned out, far more than any sane person should, according to Silas’ human sensibilities, to look down at the arch of the water that cascaded into the pool far below, before he took a breath, his mandibles folding tight over his mouth, and leaped out into the air. Rok’aan and Epi’ta-kha cheered, their roars and whoops echoing around them as he plummeted out of sight, and Silas heard the clean splash as he hit the water below.
Silas tottered to his feet to come closer as Rok’aan prepared to go next. He did not display Kray-ekh’a’s careful consideration for the action, though, slapping his claws against his bare chest and snarling out his excitement before he launched himself out over the water, Silas peering timidly over the edge just enough to watch as the Yautja boldly remained spread-eagle in the air until the last second when he pulled himself together tightly in order to pierce the water neatly, resurfacing a short distance off to join Kray-ekh’a already in the shallows again.
“You’re really going to do this? You’re braver than you look.” Epi’ta-kha teased him briefly, before turning with a flick of her long tress and taking a running start, her body arching powerfully as she swan-dived down toward the lagoon, her body streamlined perfectly to cut through the water, surfacing again with a sweep of her arms that sent water splashing in a cascade over her brother and Kray-ekh’a, who laughed and growled in playful protest.
Dre’vik-kha looked to Silas, who inched forward to regard the full drop. His stomach sank at the distance, his head reeling as he swayed nervously. “Scared?” Dre’vik-kha spoke, but she was not taunting him, her spiny brow furrowed curiously as she studied him with her ever-intent glare.
“Yes.” Silas nodded breathlessly, not ashamed to admit it. “I, uh...I’ve never done something like this. Well, once, when I was a kid, but it was…a much smaller distance.” He looked up at her, smiling halfheartedly. “I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck it up and hurt myself, heh.”
“When you jump, fold your arms in tightly like this.” She demonstrated, crossing her arms across her chest. “Point your feet down and keep your legs tight together. Exhale as you reach the water, and you’ll do just fine. I’ll follow you down right after, anyway; I’ll help you.” She dipped her head slightly, her eyes no less fierce and studious but her tone uncharacteristically softened.
Silas nodded, licking his lips before he looked to the jump again. There was no backing out now. Was he really brave enough for this? He wasn’t sure if it counted, but it felt nice to think that way. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, and then with all the strength left in his shattered legs he took two long strides and then leaped, giving himself plenty of room to avoid the rocky wall behind the waterfall itself.
For a moment it didn’t even feel like he was falling; the water that rushed at his back felt like it was standing still with him, save for the air that rushed around his face. The fear that had built in him had burst like a balloon as soon as his feet left the ground, and now his heartbeat thundered in his ears louder than the roaring water, a strange sense of elation flooding him now. His arms pressed tight across his chest and he closed his eyes as the lagoon below approached, a dark blue hole that glittered in the mist from the falls like the eye of some ancient primeval alien god. He exhaled forcefully as he felt his feet breach, time dragging as if it had been slowed and allowing him to feel every inch of the water that covered him as he plunged down into it, the end of his exhalation exploding in bubbles around his face as his descent was finally slowed and he collected himself, reality closing like the water over his head until he woke up and floundered his way to the surface.
He sucked in a deep breath as he came up, the sound of the roaring falls clarified once again above the surface and joined with the celebratory howling of the Youngbloods who were applauding him, of all people. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that split his face, the elated feeling still lingering and giving him the strength to paddle forward to the shallower water while Dre’vik-kha dove behind him, the ripples from her impact propelling him forward easily.
“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Rok’aan’s claws scratched against Silas’ skin as his sodden hair was roughly tousled under the Yautja’s hand. “Well done, little ooman.”
“Well done.” The words were echoed by Dre’vik-kha as she emerged behind him, shaking the water from her tress and letting it run from her maw again before she focused down on Silas, her expression softening again. He didn’t understand it entirely; the Yautja customs and the way they addressed and acknowledged each other was still something he hadn’t researched thoroughly enough. But his stubbornness, despite the stupidity of it--or maybe because of it, he wasn’t sure--had somehow warmed her to him again. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.
Especially if it meant he could get close to her again--that train of thought caught him off guard. He brushed it off hastily at least, busying himself with wringing the water out of his hair and attempting to do the same for his underwear without having to strip it off. He wasn’t really sure what that kind of thinking meant, but he didn’t feel equipped to tackle it now, especially when he realized they were going to have to get back to the village somehow and he wasn’t sure he’d be capable of walking, much less running, anytime soon. But thankfully the Yautja seemed keen to relax a while too, reclining among the rocks around the pool’s edge as they chattered amongst themselves, Dre’vik-kha perched on a boulder nearby to dry off.
Silas on the other hand felt he could do with some more soaking, his tired muscles soothed by the cool but not chilly water as he sprawled in the shallows. Staring up at the window of sky above, he exhaled heavily, another smile pulling at his mouth. Maybe this planet was making him crazy after all; he had never been one to take risks or do anything as daredevil as what he’d just done. And certainly never for the sake of anyone else, except perhaps Maeve. But as he closed his eyes to let himself recover a bit, he thought of how Dre’vik-kha had looked at him, coming to help him there on the side of the rock wall when he’d for a second been certain that he was going to die. The warmth of her tough, scarred skin as she’d let him hold onto her, hanging against her chest as she brought him to the top of the tower.
He couldn’t even remember the fear now.
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veliseraptor · 6 years ago
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Hi! I just reread Life in Reverse, it’s one of my all time favorite fics! I love your writing. I know you finished it a while ago, but do you still write extra scenes for it? No pressure if you don’t want to get back into an old project or if you’re busy, but if you do, I would love to read Steve or Tony's POV on chapter 35 when they break Loki out of prison. Again, no pressure, just thought I'd ask. I really appreciate all the work you do making awesome content for this fandom, thanks so much!
well I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts for a while and finally kicked it off and ended up writing a whole thing for it in one go, because fact is I still really love this verse and alternate POVs are just. so much fun. 
also this reminds me I really need to get around to posting these alternate POVs for Life in Reverse to AO3. I’d apologize for the blatant Leverage reference but it was too good to pass up.
Steve stared down at his phone, frowning.
It was the fourth time he’d tried to call Luke’s phone to no response. Maybe he was on mission, or ignoring Steve for some other unknown reason, but there was an uneasy feeling in Steve’s stomach that said that wasn’t it. That it wasn’t that simple.
That something else was going on.
He pressed his lips together and called the number Agent Coulson had given him. He did pick up.
“Captain,” he said, sounding surprised. “What is it?”
“Do you know where Luke is?” Steve asked bluntly.
“I do,” Coulson said, “but that’s classified information. Why?”
“I’ve been trying to get in touch and he wasn’t responding.” Steve looked at his bookshelf, still mostly empty.
“I can assure you there’s nothing to worry about,” Coulson said.
“Thanks,” Steve said after a moment. “I appreciate it.”
He hung up. There was nothing he could point to, but his instinct said Coulson was lying. About something. He wasn’t certain what, but something. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Overly suspicious.
But he couldn’t quite convince himself of that.
Steve stood up and paced the length of his small apartment. What was he supposed to do about it, though? Burst into SHIELD headquarters and demand they tell him what was going on? That didn’t seem likely to get him anywhere. He needed help, of some kind.
He picked up his phone, then set it down and went to put on his coat.
**
Luke had worked with Tony Stark. He remembered that, vaguely; had heard it from some SHIELD agent or another. Tony Stark was Howard’s son, and while Steve had no real reason to trust him - his impression of the man based on the frequent news items about him wasn’t positive - he was smart, and about the only person Steve could think of who knew Luke and wasn’t connected to SHIELD.
The receptionist at the front desk of Stark Tower (who named a building after themself) let him up with wide eyes. Steve smiled uncomfortably at her and took the elevator to the 20th floor, where he stood awkwardly in the middle of a waiting room with leather couches, a fish-tank, and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the city below.
“Captain America,” he heard, and turned. “Wow. I’m honored.” He didn’t sound it. Howard’s son didn’t look much like him except for around the eyes, though Tony’s were sharper, and while he was smiling Steve could feel the hostility in it.
“Call me Steve,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Uh huh,” Tony said, but he took Steve’s hand for a brief shake before walking past him, hands in his pockets. “Feel like I already have. My dad talked about you all the time.”
Steve wanted to wince. “I was sorry to hear he’d passed. He was a good man. A good friend.”
“It’s been a few decades.” Tony had his back to Steve, looking out the windows. “That why you’re here? Cause of my old man?”
“No,” Steve said after a moment. “I’m here because I need some help, and you’re the only person I could think of I might be able to ask.”
“The great Captain America needs my help?” Tony said, turning around, eyebrows raised, and Steve hadn’t been wrong about that hostility. “Well, sure. Guess it’s my patriotic duty, isn’t it?”
Steve kept his temper down. “It’s not like that. It’s about a - friend.”
“What friend,” Tony said.
“His name’s Luke,” Steve said. “Luke Silver. He works with SHIELD–”
“You know Luke?” Tony said, sounding honestly surprised, though also substantially less unfriendly. “Huh. I wouldn’t’ve thought...what’d he get into this time?”
This time? Steve thought, but he decided not to ask. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I just have a...bad feeling. I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for a few days and - nothing.”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “Could be ghosting you.” Steve looked at him blankly, and Tony said, “right, old person. Ignoring you.”
Steve shook his head slowly. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“Cause you have a bad feeling.” Steve stiffened.
“I’ve had a lot of times when I had nothing to go off but my instincts,” he said. “They were usually good.”
Tony made a sort of “hm” noise and then stepped back, turning around. “Okay. Come with me.”
Steve blinked. “What?”
“I said, ‘okay,’” Tony said, loudly, like Steve was hard-of-hearing. “My money’s on SHIELD.”
“On SHIELD what?” Steve said, following him out, a little taken aback by what felt like a sudden about face.
“SHIELD doing something to him,” Tony said. “I don’t trust those guys as far as I could throw their whole building. Secret government organizations? Not really my thing.”
“That doesn’t mean they did something. Luke’s their agent.”
“Mm,” Tony said. “Also kind of a loose cannon, as far as I can tell. Not great at orders. Super powerful - did you know that? Like, ‘leveled a building once’ powerful. SHIELD decides he’s too dangerous…or, what, do you think the government’s above that?”
“No,” Steve said after a brief pause. He didn’t want to believe it. But hadn’t he had his own suspicions about what Coulson had said? He knew the US government could fail its people. And had, many times.
Some part of him wanted to believe that SHIELD was better. It was the evolution of the SSR.
But it had been seventy years.
“Great,” Tony said. “Glad we’re on the same page. Let’s see what we can find.”
**
Tony was remarkably efficient. Steve tried to ask what he was doing only to be told to shut up. That rule didn’t seem to apply to Tony himself, though, who didn’t seem capable of shutting his mouth.
“Aha,” he said suddenly. “Found it.”
Steve strode over to look over his shoulder. “Found what?”
“Sub-basement,” Tony said. “Not on the plans. Steel walls a foot and a half thick. Dual security doors. I can’t look inside - no cameras, which in a surveillance happy organization is a little disconcerting. There’s a lot of power going into it, too. What do you bet that’s where they’re keeping him?”
Steve clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Couldn’t it just be some kind of vault?” He said reluctantly. “For securing dangerous objects, weapons–”
“People,” Tony said. “Seriously, Rogers. You look at those specs and tell me that something funny isn’t going on there. You said you have an instinct something’s wrong. I’m telling you I have an instinct SHIELD’s decided Luke’s a security risk and locked him down.”
Steve took a deep breath. There was no reason, he told himself, to believe what Tony was suggesting. No real reason to think that SHIELD had actually done anything to Luke, that he wasn’t just incommunicado for some other reason, some innocent reason.
“Say you’re right,” he said. “What do we do about it?”
Tony gave him an odd look. “Go in and get him out,” he said. “Obviously.”
Well, Steve thought. He wasn’t sure what else he’d been planning. If SHIELD really was holding Luke in a locked room with no cameras…
Steve couldn’t, in good conscience, leave him there.
“All right,” Steve said. “I’m going to need your help. My 21st century hacking is rusty.”
Tony stared at him like he’d never seen him before, and then shook himself. “Really,” he said. And then, “I kind of figured you were going to say we should go to SHIELD and talk about it.”
Steve smiled a little grimly. “I asked about Luke and Agent Coulson lied to me,” he said. “I’m pretty sure if I tried without concrete proof they’d just keep lying. If you’re right...I’d rather ask forgiveness than permission.”
“Right, then,” Tony said after a beat. “Let’s go steal a SHIELD agent.”
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ddp456 · 6 years ago
Text
“It’s quite simple, really...”
So, Wendip fans - I have good news and bad news.
Bad news first - My Wendip surprise has hit a snag.  (yes, again this year, too!)
I’ll give you all an update ASAP.  In the meanwhile, I whipped up this little yarn to serve as an appetizer until then.  Same deal goes as the last fic - if someone cares enough to make a cover art for this, I’ll throw it up on Fanfction.net as well.
Enjoy!
“This isn’t going to hurt, is it?”
Wendy Corduroy squirmed in the rigid seat.  The oddly-shaped helmet strapped to her head matted her poofy auburn hair against her brow, leaving it covered with beads of sweat.   Her eyes raced around the secret laboratory beneath the Mystery Shack as dials clicked and spun, machinery hummed in different decibels, and vials of unknown liquids slowly boiled and bubbled beneath their heated test tubes.
Huge libraries of hardcover research books decorated the walls next to the exit.  A spiraling stairwell led to another floor of boring-looking tomes. A number of end-tables and shelves displayed a lifetime’s worth of knick-knacks and souvenirs from untold adventures.  An old, chipped worktable sat at the middle of the room, filled to the brim with clutter and unfiled paperwork.
“Absolutely not!” Stanford Pines double-checked the computer monitor across from her.  He tapped away at the keyboard, inputting new commands at lightning speed.  “In fact, it might just do the opposite.”
Wendy winced confusingly, “T-Tickle?”  Her hands tightly gripped the sides of her chair.
Ford shook his head, “No, not that either.”  His harden eyes moved upwards.  “But don’t worry – we won’t be going anywhere near your feet, I assure you.”
Wendy’s freckled face turned white.  “Huh?! How did you know I was thinking – “
The scientist chuckled. “To be honest, you told me.”  He pointed to the giant video screen mounted behind Wendy.  “Part of the procedure is that your thoughts will be shown on this display.  The smaller televisions above it can provide collaborating videos and audio as well.”
Wendy turned around to see a series of green, flowing texts flying across the largest screen:
“HOW DID HE KNOW THAT? ISN’T THIS LIKE AN INVASION OF PRIVACY? HEY, AT LEAST I DON’T HAVE TO WORK NOW!”
The sound of laughter made Wendy switch screens.  One of the smaller ones played a somewhat faint image of Dipper and her wrestling around on her bed.  Wendy had her arm wrapped around his head as she gave him the ultimate noogie.  On the other end, Dipper had an orange-and-yellow socked foot in a death grip as he mercilessly tortured its sensitive underside.
“Say it!  Say that you give up!”
“NEHEHEHEH! Never!  You – You first!”
Wendy smiled briefly at the memory before turning back around towards Ford.  He silently watched the scene, itching his beard stubble with curiosity.  “Hmm…”
She forced an uneasy laugh out of embarrassment.  Ford’s silence only added to Wendy’s nervousness.  Her fingertips tapped the armrests of the chair as the helmet seemed tightened around her head.
“This is so freaky!  Why I’d even agree to this in the first place?”  
It had only been less than a half-hour ago that the teen had been sitting at her post at the Mystery Shack’s Gift Shop.  Wendy sat back on her stool, her shoulder-blades resting against the cracked wall as her mud-covered boots rested on the countertop.  Her nose buried in the latest gossip magazine. The world was peaceful and quiet until…
“A-hem!”
“Whoa!”  Wendy was jolted out of her zen.  Her balance lost, her arms flailed in mid-air until she slipped from her seat and landed hard to the floor.
“OW!”  She rubbed her sore backside as a hand reached out to help.
“Thanks, Dip.”  Wendy accepted the help back to her feet.  “You really scared the living – “
Her words faded as she was pulled upwards to meet Ford’s stern, broaden face.  He adjusted his cracked glasses with his six-fingered hand as he cleared his throat once more.
“Sorry about that.” Ford apologized.  “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind assisting me with an experiment.”
“Oh, okay…”  Wendy placed her fallen trapped cap back on her head.   This had been the first time the long-lost Great-Uncle of the Pines twins had addressed her.   “What’s up?”
“Not here…”  To Wendy’s surprise, Ford walked towards the vending machine across from her desk and dialed a combination of random numbers. A second later, the ground shook beneath her feet.  The machine itself slid away from the wall, revealing a hidden staircase leading deep into the earth.
“WHOA!”  Wendy’s green eyes grew wide.  She had heard Dipper mention something about secrets literally built into the Mystery Shack itself, but she never expected anything like this.
Ford walked down the steps as a series of lights hanging overhead instantly sprang to life.  “Now, if you’ll follow me, we’ll be at my lab – “ He paused, noticing there wasn’t a second set of footsteps behind him.  The elder spun around to see Wendy standing at the entryway with an unnerved expression.
“On second thought,” Wendy pointed towards the family entrance to the parlor.  “Stan – I mean, the other Stan, will probably need me to stay here at the counter…”
“Oh, please!”  Ford waved away in disgust.  “Stanley’s been asleep in his recliner for hours!  He didn’t care enough to put on pants today, yet alone properly manage a business!”
Wendy giggled and covered her mouth.
“I know things look odd and even scary. “  Ford held a hand against his heart.  “But it is dire that you come with me.  Your life, as well as that of your family and friends, may depend on it.”
Wendy’s guard dropped as the old man’s façade fell.  His frown twisted into an all-too-familiar tiny beam.  “Please…?”
“So, that’s where Dipper gets his smile from…”
Before she knew it, Wendy followed along the coat tails of the sage explorer down the staircase and onto an old-fashioned service elevator.  Ford threw a nearby switch, closing a gate shut behind Wendy, making her flinch slightly.  There was no going back now.
The elevator slowly descended down the shaft, its wheels noisily squeaking the entire way.   The landing violently shook beneath their boots.  An awkward silence filled the narrow passage.  
“So…”  Wendy broke the silence as Ford stared into the distance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.  “I never would have guessed that something like this was hidden beneath the Shack.”
Ford nodded, “It’s actually ironic – your father was the one who designed and built this very cottage.”
“Get out!”
“I will – “  He paused and let out a nervous laugh, “I see.  You were using an euphemism.  My mistake.  But it’s true.  Dan Corduroy helped create what you now know as the Mystery Shack over 30 years ago.”
“Wow…”  Wendy absorbed her surroundings outside of the caged elevator. She looked on with a sense of pride, knowing that her family had lent a hand in creating such an extraordinary marvel. The redhead turned towards Ford. “Dad doesn’t about any of this junk, does he?”
He broke eye-contact. “Not...exactly.  Let me put it like this: your old man thought I was putting in one hell of a den.”
“HA!  Sounds about right!”
The elevator eased to a gentle stop.  They were now in front of a sturdy redwood door.  Golden marking wrapped around at the top and the bottom in half-circles as a jewel-encrusted keyhole lied in the center.
Ford reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a long, aged key.  He inserted it into the opening and rotated it tightly.  The door sprang open with a slow creak.  He opened an arm towards the new room shrouded in complete darkness.
“After you…”
Wendy’s body grew sore in thanks to the awkward chair given to her.  Proper posture wasn’t exactly her thing.  She couldn’t decide if it was the seat or the uncomfortable atmosphere that added to her anxiety.
“I know this guy is Dip’s uncle and all, but why do I feel like it’s one of my old B-movies, where he’s going to hit a button, and shackles are going to pop outta this thing and grab my wrists and ankles?”
“I wouldn’t be too worried.” Ford reassured the worried girl with a sly grin.  “I’m more of an “angry scientist” than I am a “mad” one, so I’m not exactly one to have deathtraps lying about the lab.”
“Huh?”  Once more, Wendy glanced over her shoulder, finding her fears displayed for the world to see.  She groaned aloud and pinched her nose in embarrassment.  “Oh, man…”
“Secondly,”  Ford walked to his desk and took hold of the roller chair placed there.  “Unlike my brother, I do recognize the fact that child endangerment and imprisonment is a serious crime in the state of Oregon.”
Wendy bit her lip to stop chortling.  Seeing her growing calm, Ford rolled the chair in front of her and took a seat. “And lastly, if anything, I asked you here for your own protection, Gwendolyn.”
“It’s “Wendy…” if you don’t mind, Mr. Pines.”
Ford glanced up at the large television for a split second.
“I HATE THAT NAME SO MUCH! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS, MY MOTHER? I WISH I HAD A COOL NICKNAME LIKE DIPPER DOES.”
“My mistake, “Wendy.” Ford rubbed his chin with curiosity. “And I’d prefer “Ford” as well.”
“It’s a deal, Ford.” Her smile faded as she rubbed her hands together.  “Um, going back to what you said earlier.  This machine is supposed to “protect me?” She gently tugged on the black cord stemming from the helmet that led back to the series of screens. “And from what exactly?”
“Let me explain.”  The man sat back on his padded chair, much to Wendy’s chagrin.  “The machine that you are attached to is my own creation: Project Mentem mk-2.”
“That’s a mouthful!”
“You’re telling me. As that machine scans your mind, it will also shield it from being controlled by outside forces.”
“Outside forces?”
Ford leaned forward, “Have you ever heard the name “Bill Cipher?””
Wendy hesitated.  “Uh, I…think so…”
Once more, Wendy’s thoughts betrayed her as they ran across the computer screen for all to see.
“THAT’S THAT TRIANGLE GUY, RIGHT?  I THINK IT’S THAT TRIANGLE GUY.  HE’S THE ONE THAT MADE DIPPER ACT ALL FREAKY A FEW WEEKS AGO.  I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP WHEN HE THREW HIS ARM AROUND ME AND CALLED ME “TOOTS.”  AND HE WOULDN’T STOP STARING AT MY CHEST.  EW!”
Ford placed his hands on the armrests of Wendy’s chair, missing her fingertips by inches.  His tone grew utterly grim.  “Bill Cipher is an interdimensional being, made of pure negative energy.  He lives for complete and utter chaos!  And he will not stop until he unleashes such horrors onto this very world!”
Wendy gulped, as another thought was splashed across the screen:
“I SAW THAT DRAWING IN DIPPER’S BOOK.  THAT CREEP DIDN’T LOOK SO TOUGH TO ME.  HE LOOKS LIKE SOME DEMENTED FLYING CORN CHIP.  I BET I COULD TAKE HIM ANYTIME!”
Enraged, Ford rose to his feet, forcing his chair back.  “THIS ISN’T SOME KINDA JOKE, KID!”  He marched back and forth across his lab as Wendy was helpless to do anything but watch. “Do you even know what you’re dealing with?”  He continued on lecturing.  “This thing destroyed his own universe without an ounce of regret!  He hunted me endlessly across countless dimensions and realities for the last 30 years!  He’s responsible for the demise of several civilizations, and you think you stand a chance against him?!  He’d destroy you in a blink of his eye!”
“I’m – I’m sorry, okay?” Wendy shut her eyes and turned her head. “I-I didn’t mean – “
Ford lowered his guard as his sights came across the master computer.  His heart sunk into his knees as he quietly read the thoughts displayed:
“I HATE IT WHEN BOYS FIGHT. I HATE IT WHEN BOYS YELL AT ME. IT’S LIKE HOW STAN AND MY DAD ALWAYS YELL AT ME.  I REALLY WISH HE’D STOP YELLING AT ME…”
He looked ahead to the teenaged girl shivering in her seat.  Ford opened his six-fingered hands, wondering if he was any better than the monster he was trying to defeat.
“Wendy…”  The scientist reclaimed his seat, but made sure to keep his distance.  “I…I apologize for my outburst.  But you have to understand, please; any matter that involves Bill in even the slightest capacity has to be taken seriously.”  He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair.   “In the last few decades, I have born witness to the outrageous atrocities that he has committed across time and space.  It is something that no one deserves to see.  It is something no one deserves to fall victim to.  For that, I implore you again:  will you continue to help me keep not just this world safe from Bill’s influence, but my family as well?”
“It’s – It’s okay, man.” Wendy agreed with a shake of her head. “I’m still game if you are.  So, what’s the plan?  How can I help?”
As both persons calmed, Ford sunk back into his seat comfortably.  “You already have.”  He highlighted another computer monitor.  “As the Mentem mk-2 scans your thoughts, it has been applying a shield to your brainwaves. See for yourself.”
Wendy spun to her right, finding a black screen with bright, dark-green text displaying a progress bar:
SCANNING THOUGHTS – 35%
“Within a few minutes,” Ford clarified.  “The process will have scanned the entirety of your mind, protecting it from any possible threat from Bill.”
“Oh…okay, then…”
The two sat and peeked around the room without saying another word.  The only sound to be heard was the occasional blip coming from the progress bar.
“Hey, Ford?  Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“There are no stupid questions, but yes, proceed anyways.”
“Alright.”  Wendy itched the back of her slender neck.  “Why me? Why do you think this Bill guy would try to possess my mind like he did to Dipper?”
Strangely enough, Ford’s face lit up with interest.  “It’s quite simple, really.  I believe you would be the perfect selection for Bill simply because of who you are.”
“Who I am?”  A dozen new thoughts raced through Wendy’s mind.
“WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY THAT? IS IT BECAUSE I GREW UP HERE IN GRAVITY FALLS?  OR BECAUSE I WORK AT THE MYSTERY SHACK?”
“My mistake.  I shouldn’t have been so coy.”  Ford stood back up and began to pace with his arms tucked behind his back.  Another “Pines family” trait that easily reminded Wendy of “her boy.”  The adventurer paused for a moment, “It…wouldn’t be too forward to say that you and my great-nephew have grown close this summer, would it?”
Wendy found herself stunned for a split second.
“CLOSE?  OF COURSE WE ARE.    HE’S MY BOY.  THIS SUMMER WOULD HAVE TOTALLY BITE WITHOUT THAT LITTLE GUY.  AFTER EVERYTHING THAT WE’VE BEEN THROUGH, HOW COULD WE NOT?”
“Eh.  You could say that…”
“I see…”  Ford nodded along with both forms of testimony.  “But the question is how close are you two?”
The lower-right screen displaying Wendy’s heart-rate instantly spiked.
“Only a fool wouldn’t be able to see that you share a sort of…”  Ford waved his hand around in a circle as he attempted to find the correct term.  “…a special bond.  In fact, when Dipper sat in that very spot, you were a constant topic in his thoughts.
“Time out!”  Wendy tried to switch the conversation around. “Dipper had this mind-mumbo-jumbo done to him, too?”
“Not exactly.”  Ford confessed.  “There was an…incident when we attempted to use the machine on him.  It was only recently during some spare time that I was able to repair Project Mentem.   Hence, the mk-2 at the end.
“SO I’M THE GUINEA PIG TO SEE IF THIS HUNK OF JUNK WORKS?  GREAT, JUST GREAT.  MAYBE IF MY BROTHERS DIDN’T MESS AROUND WITH THAT UNICORN HAIR DIPPER GAVE ME, I WOULDN’T HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS.  I REALLY HOPE THIS DOESN’T BACKFIRE AND LEAVE ME WITH MY MIND WIPED LIKE WHAT THOSE BLIND-EYE JERKS TRIED TO DO TO US.”
Wendy gasped.  She forced a cheesy grin and pointed at the big screen behind her.  “Say, do we really need to have that thing on the entire time?”  The lumberjane gently tugged at the wiring binding her to the circuity.  “There isn’t a sleep mode or something we can switch on?”
Ford waved away her concerns.  “It is more than all right, Wendy.  I already know about the adventures you and Dipper have gone on these last few months.”
“You…do?”  A sense of unease formed in the pit of Wendy’s stomach as her fears turned to anger.
“THAT LITTLE DORK!  HE RATTED US OUT!  ZIPPED LIPS, MY BUTT!  JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON HIM!  WHAT ELSE DID HE SAY?  WAIT. THE MACHINE.  WHAT IF THIS THING MADE HIM SQUEAL?”
Ford could see a new memory forming on the secondary monitor.  Wendy and Dipper were standing with Mabel on the top of the Mystery Shack’s roof as the sun shined high in the clear blue sky.  Meeting eye-to-eye, they each made a zipping motion over their lips simultaneously.
“Zipped lips, eh?” Ford noted.  “But nevertheless, I can assure you, Dipper didn’t betray your trust in any fashion.”
“He didn’t?”
“Of course not.”  The researcher went back to his desk and took an item with him before sitting down before Wendy.  “In fact, I learned about your journeys the same way he did about mine here in Gravity Falls: though documentation.
Wendy looked to see the all-too-familiar hardcover book marked with a golden six-fingered insignia lying in Ford’s lap.
“Hey!  That’s Dipper’s journal!”
“You mean my journal.”  Ford proudly patted the front cover.  “It makes this old man proud to see Dipper continuing in my researching the wonderful oddities inhabiting this town.”  He opened the Journal 3 and scanned somewhere towards the middle portion.  “You certainly had your hands full in the last few weeks, if I can say so.  It’s all right here:  ghosts in the convenience store, clones amongst party-goers here at the Shack, time-traveling shenanigans …”
“Uh…”  Wendy held up a finger to object.  “Kinda lost on those last two, Ford.”
“In that case,” Ford closed the journal.  “What about the fact that when I went to check on my abandoned bunker in the woods, every trap I had set had been disabled and I found the captive alien shapeshifter frozen in an effigy that looked exactly like Dipper?”
“Uh…”
“Plus,” he reached into his oversized slicker and pulled out a dainty-sized lumberjack’s belt and a sheath for a hatchet.  “I found these inside the bunker.  I believe they’re yours?”
An uncomfortable laugh sailed pass Wendy’s throat.  “You’re pretty mad about that, aren’t you?”
“Maybe at first, but after things came together, I was more amazed.  Especially by what was captured on film.”
“We were taped?!”
“Wendy,” Ford said.  “One does not hide thousands of dollars of equipment as well as one-of-a-kind alien technologies deep in the Oregonian woods without having some type of surveillance equipment at the ready.”
She shrugged.  “True that.”
“And don’t get me wrong; all of you kids worked wonderfully as a group to recapture the shapeshifter, but it was the brief period in which you two were separated from Mabel and Soos that stood out.  I could easily see marvelous examples of teamwork being displayed.  I think it can go without saying how well you complement each other.”
“Thanks, I guess…” Wendy went to scratch her head, finding it blocked by the massive helmet.  “Sorry if I seem rude, but what’s with all these questions about Dipper and me?”
“To be frank,” he explained. “I’m simply trying to fill in the blanks to a lot of uncertainties that I have.”
“Such as?”
“Perhaps, it would be best if I were more forward.”  Ford lowered his crossed leg and hunched forward.  “So, I’ll come out and ask:  what are your intentions towards my great-nephew?
Wendy’s brow rose, pinching the tip of her head enclosed by the helmet.  Her heart-rate monitor went into full-blown overtime.
“OH MAN! OH MAN! OH MAN! THIS IS LIKE HOW MY DAD GRILLS ANY BOY I BRING TO THE HOUSE.  THIS IS KARMA PAYING ME BACK, RIGHT?!  WHAT SHOULD I SAY? HOW – “
Unfortunately, the middle monitor provided the answer for her, as Wendy could hear her own voice playing through the speakers:
“But, I'm too old for you. I mean, you know that, right?”
Both watched the scene played out, as Wendy and Dipper sat on a log deep into the Gravity Falls Woods just outside of Ford’s hidden bunker, as she tried her best to calm his anxiety and over wrecked nerves.
Wendy lowered her head to see Ford still studying the screen with great interest.  His face reminded her of Dipper’s as she had left him wondering on that log as she rode away on her bike.  Wendy would give anything to be free of the embarrassing and awkward situation.
“Ford…”  The teenager struggled with her words.  “It’s not – I can explain…”
Her random thoughts spread across the main television at neck-break speeds.
“I WISH THINGS WEREN’T COMPLICATED.  IT’S NOT LIKE DIP’S A BAD GUY.  I HOPE HE UNDERSTANDS.  I HOPE I DIDN’T HURT HIM.  HE SEEMED FINE AT MOVIE NIGHT.  WHAT ELSE COULD I DO?  THERE’S NO WAY IT WOULD HAVE WORKED.  MAYBE WHEN HE GETS OLDER…”
At long last, Ford finally spoke, “Well, that explains a lot.  It’s not as serious as I thought.”
“Ford, you don’t understand – “
He looked straight at her and removed his glasses, wiping them off with his sleeve. “Let me tell you something,” Ford said without an ounce of emotion in his voice.  “The more the things change – the more they stay the same.  In Dipper’s case, it’s “you’re too young.”  For me, an entire lifetime ago, it was “Sorry, Ford.  But you have six fingers on each hand.  What would people think?”  He held up one of his unique hands for Wendy to see.  “So, believe me, Wendy, when I say I understand perfectly.”
Wendy remained completely silent as a single thought forced on the screen behind her:
“DOES DIPPER THINK THE SAME WAY, TOO?”
The strict professor put his damaged spectacles back on.  “But in all honesty, I am actually relieved by this revelation.”
Wendy shook her head in astonishment, “Wait?!  You are?!”
“Of course.”  Ford stood up, holding the Journal 3 in his right hand, and placed it back into a slot in his work desk.  “After all, you are only a child yourself.  I’d be shocked if things had played out any differently.”
The demeaning comment struck Wendy unexpectedly.   It had been a long time since anyone had referred to her in such a way.
“Oh…kay, then.  But I still don’t understand.  What does all this Dipper-talk have to do with me and that triangle guy?”
“That’s precisely the point.”  Ford walked back.  “It’s all related.  Other than myself, there isn't anyone else that Bill Cipher had more interactions than with Dipper.  Like me, Bill has invaded Dipper’s dreams on occasion, and went as far as to trick him into giving him control of his body.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that maybe with the exception of Mabel, there is no one closer to that boy than you, Wendy.  Over the last few weeks, Dipper has become more involved in my experiments and my research.  It’s to the point he’s serving as a pseudo-apprentice of sorts.  He now has knowledge that would allow Bill to conquer this world with ease.”
“Jeez…”
“…is quite the understatement.  For this, I believe that if Bill couldn’t possess Dipper, he wouldn’t hesitate to use those closest to him as a bargaining chip.  For some reason, he doesn’t bother Mabel.  Maybe her dreams are so chaotic, they frightened even him. That leads me to believe that…”
“…he’d come for me instead.” Wendy finished.  “So, when you said earlier that this mind-thingie is for my protection, it’s really more for Dipper’s.  You think I’m some kind of…”
“…liability.  It might seem harsh, but after everything I’ve seen in the footage from the bunker, I couldn’t be more certain.  You both would stand in the face of danger for the other’s welfare.  I truly think that if your life was in jeopardy, Dipper would be willing to sacrifice the entire universe to save you.  And with all due respect, that scenario cannot be allowed to happen.”
Wendy didn’t know what to say.  How could she feel so important and yet, so very small at the same time? As she thought about it a bit more, the redhead came to a new realization.
“Dipper – he doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”
Ford didn’t answer her question.  His eyes rose over her head.  “And we’re…just about…”
*DING!*
A bell sounded through the laboratory.  The helmet finally released its death grip on her temples, as a drained Wendy nearly slid off her seat.
“Finished!”  Ford rose to his feet and went to help Wendy up onto hers.  He proudly patted her back, nearly knocking her off-balance.  “How are you feeling?”
Wendy tried to find her center as she replaced her trapper hat on top her crown of copper hair.  She grabbed her forehead.  “My brain is throbbing.”
“All perfectly normal,” he declared.  “Now, you want to be wary of any other side effects.”
“Other side effects?”
“Yes.  This is my new prototype, after all.  There wasn’t time to work out all of the kinks.”  Ford began to count off on his fingers.  “So, if you experience leaky eyes, bloody nose, oozing out of certain orifices, and/or itchy palms or soles, don’t hesitate to let me know immediately.”
“T-Thanks.  Appreciate it…”  Wendy was thankful her mind wasn’t being monitored any longer.
“Only the best for the liability.  Isn’t that right, old man?”
As Wendy staggered towards the exit, Ford returned his chair to his desk and took a seat.  He started to scribble all sorts of follow-ups into his notebooks.  “I’m going to record my latest findings, so I’m afraid I’ll be a while.”  He pointed towards the door, “If you want to go on ahead, simply throw the switch to bring the elevator back to the surface.  You’ll find a button at the end of the path that’ll re-open the vending machine leading back to your work station.”
“You got it, Ford.  I guess…I’ll see you around.”
Just as Wendy started to turn the door knob, she heard Ford call out, “Wendy, wait?”
She paused and looked back to see Ford with his chair spun towards her.
“For what it’s worth,” he anxiously adjusted his collar.  “I wanted to thank you for everything that you do for Dipper.  I, above all people, can understand how lonely and awkward things can be at his age.  I’m glad that he has someone like you to help him along.”
Wendy let out a sigh of relief.  “It’s no biggie, really.  Like I said before, he’s fun to hang with, and – “
Ford continued on, as if he didn’t hear Wendy at all, “With that said, I figure that it’s only a matter of time before things return to normal, and your life will go back to how it used to be.”
She raised an eyebrow, “I’m not following you here…”
The senior went back to writing in his research, “It’s more than obvious that Dipper is extremely interested in following in my footsteps, and to be honest, I’d be more than honored to train him to do as such.  However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned through the years, is that in this line of work, relationships, rather they be emotional or physical, romantic or platonic, are fleeting.  In the end, they serve to be nothing more than a distraction from what’s really important in life.”
“What – What are you saying?”
“That in time, I’m more than positive that Dipper will grow out of this little fascination he has with you and focus on something that actually has substance in reality.”
“You think Dipper will just forget about me?”
“Or you about him. Whichever comes first.”
Wendy was left dumbstruck. Her stomach felt twisted by the man’s lack of empathy on all fronts.  However, she couldn’t leave on this note.  There was still one worry weighing down on her mind.
“Listen, Ford.”  The ginger rubbed her elbow fretfully. “Before I go, I wanted to ask you one last thing.  Let’s say that this little experiment didn’t work, and this Bill guy does find a way to take control over me.  What would you do then?”
Ford stopped writing in his notepad, but didn’t show Wendy a speck of his attention.  Another eerie silence filled the lab.  Mere seconds passed like hours before he finally gave an answer:
“We’ll…worry about that if and then the time comes.”  He returned to his studies as if nothing had transpired.  “Please make sure to close the door behind you.”
It took nearly all of Wendy’s remaining strength to respond.  “Yeah, I’ll do that…”
As Wendy slowly shut the door, she took one last look at the seemingly-disconnected old man focusing solely on the isolated world that he created for himself.  As much as she hated to admit it, this also reminded her of “her boy” as well.
The exhausted clerk pulled the switch back, making the elevator creep back up the way it had come. She leaned against the gated wall with folded arms as her mind raced over the recent experience, and all that came from it.  A glimpse of natural light offered little comfort from the gloominess of her current surroundings.
One thing was for certain: When Wendy reached the surface, she was definitely going to have to stare at a wall for a while, and rethink everything…
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wristic · 7 years ago
Text
To Forsake All Love
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Pairing: Sigurd X Reader
Word Count: 3200
Warnings: Mild descriptions of gore (You start out picking up King Aelle post-blood eagle sooooo)
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5-
Daughter to the now dead King Aelle, a Queen mother overcome with grief and terror, a sister far from you and the other with no aspirations of responsibility, it falls to you to save Northumbria. Even if that means your people will hate you for it. 
When the carriage arrived to its destination, you were not at all surprised to find it at the final resting place of Ragnar Lothbrok. What did surprise and flip your stomach was the ghastly scene of your father strung up, his position so reminiscent of the savior Jesus Christ as he died, yet the wings of his ascension where very visible and made of bloodied flesh. You gulped down the acid, the step down startling you as your slippered foot hit the ground.
The earth was quiet as you walked, the dead leaves and soil wet from the morning rain. The aroma smelled so fresh and new yet the grizzly sight filled everyone with dread. You found your place between the open chamber of the ground and your perched father. “I don't want to see the back, do I?”
Godwine looked back down, his aged and sun-cured face tense and jaw rolling like he might be sick. Plainly he shook no.
You stepped away and let them work, finding it easier to hack away at the standing post then to dig it up. Every so often you’d look down at the chamber’s edge you stood at, feeling like eyes were looking up from it. Each time you looked there was nothing, only leaves, and the foreboding sensation something might grab your ankle and drag you in. You weren't there for the death of Ragnar, no place for a royal lady your father said. It was fine by you. Everyone was always so desperate to make heroes and demigods and martyrs out of anything, but you knew he would bleed and he would die like any other man. They always did.
Hearing the wood creak and snap, the guards were quick to grab it's sides, lowering your father to the ground as gently as possible, making sure his back would remain unseen for his dignity.
Walking around the chamber you stood at her father's feet as they cut at the ropes, the guards grimacing as they tucked in the skin for your sake. The flesh had grown so pallid it was nearer to grey. His eyes still open but empty of life, the gold brown looking ghostly on his slack and peaceful face.
“Leave us for a moment.” you ordered and waited patiently for them all to return to the carriage. You then unclasped your black cloak with its golden embroidery and draped it over his bare figure. Sitting beside him, back against the guards, you sighed looking off in the distance.
“I know that you loved me… though I hardly felt it. Between your righteous vows to keep order and your fear I would take inspiration from Judith…” thinking of your sister you only got to see for moments out of years, truths you could never say to his living soul tumbled from you, still in trepidation. “I think you knew I envy Judith. Heavens have mercy I envy her strength with every ounce of my being. I’m sorry silence was the only thing I could offer you. I’m sorry it couldn't always quell the heat of your anger.” 
You swallowed, feeling your back straighten a little taller. “I will do what I have to to save what is left of this kingdom.” You rose feeling a painful tightness in your chest. “I am willing to be hated just as Judith is. Curse me all you want in your afterlife but where the others are not, I am willing to make that sacrifice.”
The world was quiet for a moment. The uneasy feeling of being watched tugged at you again and you glanced to the chamber, a few ravens plucking for worms at its edges. You breathed heavy, closing your eyes tight. “I know you won't, but please forgive me for what I am about to do.”
As you left his side the guards came back around and lifted your father from the ground to the caravan, covered in your black cape. You chose to walk with the guards to the royal crypts, at least for a short time as it would be a day and a half till they got there.
“What was done to my father can not leave us. When we return, we say he found him on the battlefield.” the guards were silent in their unease. You looked up to tall Godwine. “If the people hear of this brutality they will scramble terrified. Others will shy away-”
“Maybe they should! Everyone should run as far from here as they can!” the youngest of the guards, Ingweald, snapped from a ways behind you.
You shook your head and turned to him as well as your entourage, all stopping to listen. “For how long would we run, to where? The ends of the Earth? What then, would you leap into the endless void? Would that really be better than giving a hell scream into a righteous battle?” The men fell silent and stopped shifting, but took a timid glance at the dead King Aelle beside them. “We have no true army, and you guards are of few left. To keep our heads above the water we must at least be united and stalwart. Now please, swear to me we will tell everyone he died in battle.”
It was a long pause before they all nodded, mumbling a nervous vow.
When you returned home, your Queen mother Ealswith was crying sick with worry. Her pale aged face blotchy in red and sagging in exhaustion. “You took so long to retrieve him I thought I was right! I thought that they trapped-!”
“They didn't mother.” You forced a smile but inside was a turmoil, feeling sick all over again with wanting to admit the horror you witnessed. It seemed to show all the same.
“What?” Ealswith pet your sullen face. “Darling what is it?”
“He’s been placed in the crypts.”
The newly appointed Bishop Edmure stood. An older bitter man who had been hungry for the position for decades. It seemed he got what he wanted from your mother while you were away, and it itched you in annoyance. Edmure was as righteous and hot tempered as your father, and standing so close to the King's chair it seemed he meant to replace the sudden missing piece. “He should have been brought here, to be blessed-”
“Well I didn’t know anyone had been appointed just yet.” You kept your chin up so you wouldn't glower. “But he did fall valiantly in battle, defending his country as any king could hope for.” Ealswith seemed bewildered, still petting you and tilting her head silently asking for the truth. You couldn't give it, bowing your head and moving past your tense mother. “We should make preparations. I’ve heard they are heading to Wessex. It is my greatest fear this is far from over.”
The only other to know the true endings of King Aelle was a letter sent to Ecbert, a fair warning of the cruelty to come should he fail.
And fail he did.
You had readied your journey almost as soon as your letter went out. Leaving Queen Ealswith and Bishop Edmure to the court, you left to the Wessex capital.
Hiding in the brush a distance away you watched the large pointed tree get used as a hammer through the gates. The newly fashioned ebony mourning cape and stormy grey dress snapped in the wind and your horse Redfool sputtered, grunting hearing the war cry break out. She calmed a bit while you patted her solid red forehead down to her ashed brown nose. Sighing as the raid realized the civilians had all fled, you felt weak in your bones as they cheered again.
You stood at the trees rim for awhile, waiting for the charcoal smoke to dwindle and the commotion inside to turn casual. Placing a hand on Redfool’s thick jaw you turned your mount to face you. “You be good, don't leave me behind again.” She huffed at you making you chuckle, the only momentary ease you found since your journey began. With a last tug on the ropes around the tree, knowing they wouldn't hold Redfool in place, you walked out of the forest to the gates.
You were surprised to find no one payed attention to you. There were so many people, men and women alike, most having shed off their armor in favor of more comfortable dresses and shirts. It felt strange, being surrounded by all these excited people but not being able to understand them, understand their interactions or their comfort at being enclosed by a broken and burned city. It felt like being a ghost of the city itself. Seeing but not seen.
Following the sound of celebration you came upon the city's center, the tables all brought out from the homes, filled with foods and drinks, people jeering and dancing merrily for their victory. Resting your shoulder against the stone column, you looked at the raised platform in wonderment. Five sat there, commanders or Kings, you couldn't tell but they all seemed so young. You twisted the thin gold band with the pearl shaped jet stone around your finger, examining each one closely as they laughed and talked.
They were all quite eye catching, handsome each in their own ways. Most were fair haired, some more sandy, one a pale orange, and the other shades darker than the rest, but all blue eyed. It occurred to you they may all be brothers, elevated above the rest they were more than commanders, they were royalty.
As the fair orange one ascended his steps from playing what looked like half a lute, the black cloak caught his eye, suddenly intriguing him like it had no one else. The smile he had prier fell at the sight of you and you wondered if it was your God or his many that bade him to see you through the denizens of people.
Lifting your chin you stood straight, hoping to give the look of someone who wanted to talk business. Spinning around you led the way into the castle, praying he would follow you, that he would speak to you, that he would listen.
However walking through the castle and into the Great Hall, it was hard not to relive old memories. The last time you were there was as a mere child, unaware of the revulsion that would take your father for your eldest sister.
While you were stealing a fourth berry tart Aelle came out of nowhere, gripping your tiny shoulder, pointing to Judith and seething in your ear. He cursed your sister in a thousand ways for her crimes, telling you how a proper woman should behave. You could remember Judith's face as if she was looking across the room now. Judith knew what was happening, she could probably see all the shock and confusion in your plump little face but was powerless to explain. Instead, Judith's big eyes grew sad, tired despite being so young. They watered but no tears fell, finding sanctuary in tearing them from her little sisters and force a smile to the person next to her.
It wasn't until years spent reflecting you understood the sheer amount of rebellion that had taken place in that room. Where your father called it insolence you called it resilience. A declaration Judith made that she would no longer coddle his or any man's whims, no matter what the cost. The sigh that echoed around you was heavy with the weight, having expelled so many in the week you were sure you were breathing out your soul at this point.
You missed your big sister. Mourned the opportunity to have learned so much from her instead of your more complacent mother. The simple visit alone to warn your father, she was only able to say a few words but they breathed so much life in you, your hands shook for weeks.
You were hiding behind Judith's carriage so your father couldn't see. When Judith rounded the corner she was surprised to see her silent little sister, but walked by casually so Aelle wouldn't wonder.
“What's it like?”
It was a small question but it rang with the dozens unspoken. Judith knew at once every single one, a smirk, a smile breaking on her lips for the first time since her arrival. She leaned in and whispered. “It feels like I could set the whole world on fire, and I’d laugh while I burned with it.”
Licking your lips to quell the sudden rush of excitement the sound of footsteps finally made their way in. When they stopped somewhere behind, you glanced back to make sure it was him. The way he was looking at you, it brought back that feeling of being a ghost. He seemed mystified, at ends with believing you were real. You let your eyes wander the room, the memories having a hard time leaving. “It's been a long time since I’ve been here.” your voice echoed ominously. “A shame it had to be in this state.” after a moment of silence you hurriedly peeked back. “Do you speak Saxon?”
“Yes, I do.” There was a chuckle in his voice as he dared to step a little closer. It felt wrong to see him smile, to have the look of a friend. He was an enemy, a heathen, and no doubt there for the brutal execution of her father. Yet you started to feel comfortable in his presence already.
You fully turned and pulled down your hood revealing the royal golden circlet. “I am Princess (Y/N) of Northumbria. My father was King Aelle.”
His whole demeanor gave a fright to that. Tensing and taking a step away from you, wide eyes glancing to the door. In their shock you noticed his right pupil was thin and long, a bit turned sideways but a slit like a cats.
You sucked in a nervous breath. “Your army, it's not going to leave, is it?”
His hands fiddled with their sleeves before admitting. “We took our revenge for our father. We have no reason to stay.”
“But is it going to leave?” you stepped closer and he wavered but remained. Your fingers found sanctuary in spinning the small ring. “My fear is an army so great would find no reason to turn around after so much success. And if that be the case, that the people of Northumbria will be enslaved or simply slaughtered. Every able bodied man we had has died at your first battle. We have no army anymore, no seasoned men to protect ourselves. While my mother and sister grieve it has fallen to me to ensure the country's survival.” You removed the fashioned promise ring and presented it to him. “If any man wishes to be a king and inherit a fertile and prosperous land, he need only promise me he can stave the tide of the Great army.”
He wasn't as hesitant to take the ring as he had been in being alone with you. You felt your fingers warm under the brush of his, instinctively gulping at such a rare touch. Taking the gold band from you slowly he looked more in your eyes than at the black bead so reminiscent of your family's thick pitch black hair. Breaking your gaze and allowing you to breath, he examined the ring. A smirk started to grow. “Any preferences?”
“Preference has never been a luxury a princess can afford.” you smiled gently and his eyes seemed to soften in sympathy. In a sweep you pulled your hood back up. “Please. Let me know as soon as possible the answer. My people and I are sick with worry for our uncertain future.”
You made to leave when he gave a cheeky reply. “I’ll make sure to speak of your radiant beauty to my brother's.”
A smile forced its way on your suddenly warm face and you graced him with it. “I hope not as a joke.”
“It maybe if only to keep them away from you.” he pointed with the promise ring and a coy smirk.
You giggled, shying away and leaving the castle. When you returned to Redfool the blasted horse had gotten loose and was found prancing around in a nearby stream.
When Sigurd returned to the table he was looking back at the castle wistfully, the ring fiddling between his fingers. Part of him still wasn't sure the whole interaction was real. The princess had been so beautiful even in her humble dress. So dauntless in offering her hand. Yet it was the sadness in her eyes that was sure to haunt him.
“Where have you been Sigurd?” Ivar chimed behind his chalice. “It looked like you were following a ghost.”
“I’m still not entirely sure I wasn't.” He lifted the ring for them to see before passing it to Hvitserk so his brothers could look at it one by one. “The daughter of King Aelle just offered herself in marriage.”
The four jumped to attention, Bjorn having took the ring then handed it off past Ubbe and to Ivar. Ivar eyed the ring hesitantly before taking it, examining the finely crafted band with the jet stone pearl, the thin gold curling around its setting like a long overgrown vine.
Hvitserk sat back looking to Sigurd. “How did she get in here?”
“I think she just walked in.” Sigurd chuckled as he sat down. “She’s worried we won't leave. Apparently that army we demolished when we got here was all they had.”
Ivar shrugged tossing the ring on the table like a cheap coin. “That just means they're ripe for the picking. They’ll roll over like the dogs they are and we’ll take everything they have to offer.”
“’Any man who wishes to be a king and inherit a fertile land, need only promise me he can stave off the tide of your army’. That's what she said. I don't see that as such a bad deal.” Sigurd pointed.
“You sound like you’ve already decided to marry her brother.” Ubbe teased.
“Maybe I just have a weakness for sad beautiful women.” He smiled to the ground, remembering how easy it was to flatter her. Certainly she’d be blushing to hear him say that.
Ivar’s callous laugh disrupted the sweet melodic giggle she had left Sigurd with. “So eager to marry a Christian girl? That sounds like you. Perhaps you seek to become Christian yourself hm?”
“I think you're missing the part where she was beautiful and offered a Kingship. Besides,” he got back up when no one returned the ring and took it, playing with it between his fingers. “She’d be my wife. I’d just make her convert to our Gods.”
Bjorn scoffed behind his cup. “I think you underestimate the power a woman can have in a house.” He murmured with a smirk.
Sigurd made his way around the table looking at them hard. “So I am the only one interested in becoming a King?”
“A Christian King.” Ivar growled.
Resisting rolling his eyes in favor of ignoring him, Sigurd turned to Hvitserk, somehow knowing he would also refuse. “Hvitserk?”
He only shrugged but slipped into a teasing smile. “You sound like you have your heart set on this. You go take your Christian Princess brother.”
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iv-kplpt · 7 years ago
Text
build our own luck [the agency au part two]
i was feeling like crap, thanks to my least favorite day of the year - so i decided to write something as self indulgent as it gets. in this one, there is actually no plot or drama; i just wanted to write about charlie and oswald living their lives. and nothing bad happens to them. it’s TREAT YO SELF: the fic, basically. writing it made me feel warm and fuzzy. it’s a nice feeling.
19k words rated m
During the months that followed, Charlie often felt uneasy; she was smart enough to know leaving the Agency wasn’t as simple as using primitive blackmail. What she did was desperate and blunt and could easily be used against her; but she willingly put herself under the sword of Damocles, feeling this is the path she was meant to follow. Perhaps she was blinded; but she didn’t mind. What was born between her and one of Gotham’s many masked criminals definitely felt real - and maybe it was foolish, diving headfirst into the unknown, sinking in his eyes and melting under his touch. Perhaps it was rash and unwise, forfeiting months of training and embracing her moral numbness - but it just felt so damn good.
Oswald’s next big plan was to finally have his revenge for a tragedy that befell his family when he was a child; his father was pushed to a suicide and his mother was unrightfully locked up in Arkham Asylum and people responsible for it took everything from him, every last penny, every last shred of faith in people’s good nature - and he was so, so very close to getting definitive, damning proof of that. It wouldn’t bring his family back - but it sure as hell is nicer to weep in luxury, than in poverty.
“Don’t get me wrong, I will spill some blood.” he told her one day. “A lot of it, actually - but it’s time for the name Cobblepot to return to the top. Don’t you think?”
“You know I’m on board with everything.” she muttered in response, trying to catch last minutes of sleep. “You incubus.”
He laughed and kissed the skin between her shoulder blades and she smiled blissfully.
Her role in his plans wasn’t complicated, but it definitely was significant; someone had to scrub his criminal records clean and to re-introduce him to Gotham as a shining example of virtue; he wanted to take back what’s his not by force - but by making people want to give it back to him. She was supposed to handle his good PR - while he’d take care of the behind-the-scenes, more dirty aspects.
“I’ve already arranged everything. I got in touch with the best damn burglar money can buy.”
“Why don’t you steal it yourself?”
“Because I’m too lazy.” he replied with a shrug and she laughed. “And Catwoman? She has a well-earned reputation of being reliable. Why risk fucking it up if I can pay someone to… Not fuck it up?”
“Smart.” she said; she was sitting on the couch in her hotel apartment - or rather their hotel apartment. Oswald had planned his official return in detail; since he was going to resurface soon, Charlie threw the first pebble of the upcoming avalanche and allowed him to temporarily move in with her. They had a whole story, ready for anyone curious enough to ask questions. A very pretty, completely fake story; one of those fairytales that only seem to happen to the rich and the beautiful.
“Of course it’s smart, I’m brilliant.”
“Uh-uh.” she muttered, glancing at the screen of her laptop. “Alright, the British should really work on their security… And training their detectives. They never got half the stuff you’ve done.”
“That’s because they kept underestimating me and overlooking obvious clues. But I don’t mind. It’s their loss.”
It was a late afternoon, and Charlie was putting some of her skills to use by reworking Oswald’s records from his time in the UK; she was no master hacker - if she was she’d probably be working for the Agency’s IT or intel department - but she was trained well. Oswald never let himself be known as a high-profile criminal, and he never gave the police enough evidence to link him with the Penguin; his files were barely protected and it only took her half an hour to wipe out the bad parts and rework the semi-decent ones into something heart crushingly good.
“This is almost too easy.” she complained jokingly, saving the photographs from a gambling bust onto her hard drive. “Or maybe I’m simply overqualified.”
“The latter, definitely.” he said; his phone dinged. “Would you look at that! The physical copies of my files had gone missing. What a shame.”
“Yes, what a terrible, terrible loss.” she said, retracing her footsteps and covering her tracks, just to make sure no one will discover what happened. “So, you’re now officially clean. The Agency files still remain, but the Agency has files on everyone, not only their targets… Meaning you’re now a model citizen. How does it feel?”
“Boring as fuck.”
“Yeah, socially acceptable behaviors tend to be boring. Honestly I’m almost sad, you just lost your bad boy charm. No gambling, no illegal boxing matches, the dishonorable discharge wasn’t really spectacular… It’s a good thing I’ve seen how awful you are.” she finished with a smile, turning her laptop off.
“It’s also a good thing I’m a handsome devil. Good looks can make anyone interesting.” he said with a wink, and she giggled; they had this conversation a few times before, between reuniting and making his grand plans reality. He was talking about Bruce Wayne, his childhood friend who grew up with almost everything Oswald had lost, partially thanks to Bruce’s father - and a man Charlie encountered a few times during her stay in Gotham. He was pleasant, not her type and rubbed her the wrong way; but she was as nice to him as possible, knowing this influential playboy has a bone to pick with Louise, who used to also work for the Agency. At first it was all just a front, a way of not making her fellow agent’s life more complicated; but then it became reality. Charlie and Louise had both left the Agency - and the further Bruce Wayne was from Charlie’s personal life and her involvement with Oswald’s revenge the better.
“Now what?”
“Now… We wait.” Oswald said with a shrug. “Kyle should be done with her job on the night of Dent’s fundraiser, which is when, in a week?”
“A week and a half. Louise got me an invite.”
“How nice of her. I keep forgetting she’s working with that guy.”
“If he becomes the mayor, she’ll probably take over as the new DA. Can he even appoint her as his successor?”
“Don’t ask me, american law is an enigma to me. This country is so needlessly complicated, almost as if government's sole mission was to fuck its people over as much as possible. Do you think that’s what Washington planned?” he asked suddenly. “Do you think he dreamed of creating a free country that’d coincidentally be the most complicated place on Earth?”
“I don’t think he planned that far ahead. I think his plans only went as far as kicking the Brits out, then he started to make shit up as he went… And look at America now. Totally not worth it.”
“Bold statement coming from an ex federal agent.” he said and she laughed; all was good between them ever since she abandoned the Agency for his sake. Many people would say he pulled her to the dark side, that he dragged her down; but she didn’t care. Some people are not meant for greatness or goodness; perhaps she was one of those souls meant to be cautionary tales. All that mattered was the fact she was in love - it didn’t matter how bloody and dark his plans were. She could take it.
Eventually the night of the fundraiser came; Oswald was supposed to face Bruce for the first time in years. Charlie - who officially didn’t know anything about Oswald’s history with the Wayne family and was simply playing the role of a bubbly, young socialite making new connections - was bringing him with her as her plus one, marking the beginning of Oswald’s slow return to the top. She’s been in Gotham for a while now, and was slowly becoming recognizable; it was good time for them to start their show.
“Nervous?” she asked him as they were getting ready to leave; but he shook his head.
“Excited.” he replied simply, buttoning his shirt. “I’ve been waiting for this moment to come.”
“Mmm.” she muttered, sitting down to take care of her hair and face and he glanced at her reflection, tying his tie.
“Oh, good choice.” he said, seeing her reach for the benitoite earrings he gave her. “Those fit you.”
“It’s my favorite pair, you know.” she said playfully, picking up a string of pearls. “How do I look?”
“Distractingly gorgeous, as usual.” he said as she got up, smoothing down the fabric of her dress - a simple, cocktail pencil piece with bateau neckline in a deep blue color few shades darker than her eyes. It was one of her favorites; it went with almost everything.
(She favored pencil dresses and skirts; they were simple, elegant, graceful and looked nothing like more voluminous clothes she wore as Penguin’s masked accomplice. Her civilian clothes were all about simple elegance and subtlety with occasional flashes of tasteful ostentation; what she wore when robbing banks was all about the drama.)
“You look great as well.” she sighed as he was fixing his tie in place with a pin. “You look good in suits, you know?”
“I look good in everything.” he replied and she rolled her eyes, unable to contain her smile. She meant what she said - he looked damn good in formal wear.
“Narcissus.” she said, picking up her purse. “Come on. We’ll be fashionably late.”
“Planning a dramatic entrance?” he asked as they were walking down the hallway, towards the elevators.
“Let’s save dramatic entrances for another occasion.” she said, alluding to their alter egos. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see you?”
“Who, Bruce? Doesn’t matter.” Oswald said with a shrug, following her into the elevator. “Do you like him?”
“He seems pleasant. Kind of boring, but definitely pleasant. I can see myself developing a crush on him, if I was a different person.” she said, glancing at him. “But luckily I have a more refined taste.”
“Luckily indeed.” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist as the elevator reached the ground level and they walked out, a picture-perfect couple like many others.
They were fashionably late; and on their way to the Wayne Manor Oswald got a message from Catwoman, a thief he hired to steal a crucial piece of evidence for him; she succeeded and was ready to meet him to make an exchange whenever he was ready.
“Well that went remarkably smooth.” he said after Charlie read the content of the text to him; he was driving and she - sitting in the passenger seat - insisted on him acting reasonably. “That will put Falcone in my pocket for the time being.”
“Catwoman.” Charlie said thoughtfully. “I remember her files. No one ever got anything that could lead to uncovering her identity.”
“She’s good. Sinks her hard-earned money in state of the art toys, steals blueprints, prototypes… It’s a good thing she didn’t fuck up. I’d hate to have to get rid of her.”
“What, you’d send your men to bring you her head on a silver platter?”
“Silver? No, I wouldn’t settle for silver. I’d go with gold.” he said nonchalantly and she laughed.
They weren’t the only ones running late - Bruce Wayne himself was late as well and had yet to make an appearance as they showed up.
“God, I forgot just how posh this place is.” Oswald muttered, looking around the hall. “See this closet right there? Used to be my favorite hiding spot back when I was a kid.”
“Oh, you’ll have to show me around.” she said quietly, glancing at him. “Lots of memories?”
“Tons of them, actually. I think I broke Alfred’s favorite vase… Right here.” he said, stopping near an elegant, empty table. “Bruce took the blame. He was a good friend.”
“Maybe he still is a good friend.” Charlie suggested softly, standing next to him; he pulled her closer without a word.
“If it isn’t Gotham’s most disgusting couple!” they suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from behind them; when they turned around - Louise was there, holding a glass of wine. “Fashionably late. How delightful.”
“Entrance is everything.” Charlie said with a smile, brushing Louise’s cheek with her red lips.
“Now that’s a weird thing.” Louise said, looking at Oswald. “I’ll never get used to seeing you out and about. Feels wrong.”
“Hidden in plain sight.” he replied, nodding slightly. “Where’s Wayne?”
“Has yet to show up, so… Be patient. Be patient for Harvey.” she giggled, glancing in the direction of her - visibly stressed out - superior. “He’s losing his mind. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
“I’ll see you later.” Oswald said quietly, brushing Charlie’s temple with his lips. “I have some spying to do.”
“Take care.” Charlie replied quietly and walked away with Louise.
“Harvey!” she called out to Dent, who looked in their direction.
“My god.” he said tiredly. “You haven’t seen Bruce anywhere, have you?”
“It might be a good time to issue a search party.” Louise suggested. “But in the meantime… This is your potential voter, try to squeeze money out of her. Charlie, this is Harvey Dent, the better of two candidates. And better remember that.”
“Pleased to finally meet you in person.” Charlie said with a smile as Dent was shaking her hand. “Your posters are in the hall of my hotel. Staff makes sure no one vandalizes them.”
“It means my campaign is working! Good.” he said with a smile of relief. “I take you’re the school friend Louise mentioned once or twice..?”
“If you mean the girl everyone called Heinz behind her back, then yes, that’d be me.” she said, bringing up one of many details of her - completely fake - backstory.
Dent was a pleasant, honest man who wanted to make a difference; he had strong opinions about crime and corruption and Charlie gladly decided to financially back his cause, for some good citizen brownie points.
The evening was going smoothly, especially since Bruce Wayne decided to finally show up; considering how calm he appeared Oswald probably didn’t confront him.
(She spotted Oswald drinking wine straight out of the bottle and shot him a disapproving look from across the room; he winked at her in response. Later she saw him talking quietly with Alfred, Bruce’s butler; she wondered how did the old man react to the sight of his master’s childhood friend, all grown up.)
And then, Carmine Falcone showed up, unexpected and uninvited; Charlie and Louise were in the corner of the room as he walked in and Oswald quickly walked up to them, looking angry.
“That wasn’t part of the plan.” he stated, glancing in mafioso’s direction; head of the mob seemingly didn’t notice him, too busy offending the interior of Wayne Manor.
“You should go.” Charlie said hastily, handing him the car keys. “Before things turn ugly.”
“Oh, they will turn ugly once I get to Falcone.” Oswald promised her with a dark smile. “But you’re right, tonight’s not the time.”
“Keep your murderous schemes to yourself, thank you very much.” Louise hissed at him. “Go! I’ll take her home.”
“So better put that wine down, miss lawyer.” he said mockingly and slipped away, one last time glancing in the direction of Falcone, who was trying to get Bruce Wayne to shake his hand.
“Christ.” Louise muttered, finishing her wine. “So, how are you two doing?” she asked finally. “Do you want to kill him, or do you still claim you’re in love with him?”
“I love him.” Charlie said firmly. “We made up. Did the Agency reach out to you?”
“No, they just took my letter and fucked off, which is… Concerning. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Louise sighed. “Even though I think they really took him off the hook… We should probably make sure he doesn’t make it back to the list.”
“He’s reasonable.” Charlie said, deciding to act on her belief partners should support each other. “But you’re right.”
They both turned around when Falcone looked in their direction, in order to avoid him spotting them; he probably remembered them from his auctions, especially Charlie and her joy after getting her hands on Cobblepot family memorabilia.
“What is Falcone doing here?” Charlie asked quietly and Louise shook her head.
“Beats me, but this can’t be good. My gut tells me some shit’s about to go down. You better watch Oswald, he might do something stupid.”
“I’m not his babysitter.” Charlie protested faintly and Louise snickered.
“No, but he desperately needs a voice of reason. And this is when you come in… Because there is no point in suggesting you to become his conscience.” she added. “God, you really love him. This is unbelievable.”
“What?”
“Your face. That’s the face normal people make when they see Chris Evans. You… Make that face when you’re talking about Oswald. What do you see in him?”
“That’s not how love works. It’s just… Him.” Charlie said with a shrug. “As a whole. But I guess what I see when I look at him is… A promise. And a sense of belonging, not in terms of ownership and property, but placement.”
“That’s poetic and I can hardly argue with that.” Louise sighed nostalgically. “But that ownership thing… I thought he’d be more territorial. More of a jealous asshole, considering his general attitude towards… Well, everything.”
“Maybe he simply trusts me. Maybe he sees a difference between objects and people.” Charlie said lightly. “Also there’s a matter of me repeatedly telling him he stole my heart. I think he got my subtle hints.”
“Ah, but you never know. Remember: he’s a man. They’re simply not conditioned to get subtle hints.”
Louise drove Charlie back to the Peak that night, since Oswald took her car; the apartment was dark and empty, as Charlie noticed with a sigh.
She took a shower and went to bed; and few hours later she was woken up with a phone call.
“Yes?” she muttered, still half asleep, barely holding the receiver. “What is it?”
An anxious night-shift receptionist was calling to ask if she can go downstairs; an angry man was demanding access to her apartment. Charlie groaned, got up, put up a bathrobe and shuffled out, wondering how exactly is she going to murder the person responsible for waking her up.
“Charlie!” she heard Oswald’s voice. “This young man right here wanted to call the cops on me, can you believe it?!”
“Hardly.” she muttered, glancing at him and sighing at the sight of a blood staining his clothes and face.
She turned her attention to the panicked young man behind the counter; he was probably new, considering she had never seen him before. More seasoned staff members quickly learned to pay no attention to chatty man living with Schiller-Aberdeen in 362.
“He’s checked in with me.” she yawned, sleepily taking Oswald’s hand and stroking it with her fingertips. “Can you keep this whole thing to yourself… Liam?”
“Naturally!” the young man assured her ardently. “I am so terribly sorry for the problem.”
“It’s nothing.” she muttered, pulling Oswald towards the elevator, desperate to get back to bed.
“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Oswald asked as the elevator doors closed and Charlie sighed deeply.
(She didn’t mind seeing him covered in blood; but not at three AM when she was half asleep.)
“Alright. What happened?”
“I think I killed a guy.” Oswald said with satisfaction. “Two of ‘em tried to jump me and Bruce… So I showed them what happens to people who cross Oswald Cobblepot.”
“Oooh.” she said with a faint smile; she liked watching him fight. He was quick and deadly and relentless and it created a beautiful contrast with the memories of his kisses and tender touches. “And how did the meeting go? Exchanged any gossip?”
“Well, one thing I know for sure is that Bruce Wayne grew up to be a prick.” Oswald said, rolling his eyes. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree it seems… But that will only make my revenge feel even better.”
“Uh-uh.” she yawned. “Did you ask him about Falcone?”
“Well, Bruce claims Falcone showed up uninvited, but… I don’t believe him.” Oswald finished in a low tone. “I don’t believe a single word he says.”
“Sucks to be him.” she yawned; the elevator stopped at their floor.
She simply wanted to go back to sleep; but Oswald wasn’t done talking.
“My god, Oswald.” she said finally, her eyes closed. “Look. I love and support you, but I’m going to kill you if you don’t let me sleep.”
In response he only laughed, finally shutting up; few minutes later she felt his warm body next to her and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.
***
He put his plans in motion soon after. Bruce Wayne’s good name had been dragged through mud and Falcone had been arrested, after GCPD anonymously received a complete documentation of his criminal empire - stored on a drive Oswald hired the elusive Catwoman to steal.
“Oh, this is beautiful!” he said as they were watching the news, a live relation of police’s attack on Skyline club. “Something tells me a lot of land will soon be up for grabs. Should I invest in real estate?”
“Yes, but don’t count on me visiting you there. I… Don’t like heights.” she confessed and he laughed. “One thing the Agency never made me unlearn: fear of heights.”
“Then it’s a good thing penguins are flightless birds.”
Carmine Falcone died few days after being arrested - he was killed, and the killer left no trace, disappearing like a ghost; but somehow - looking at Oswald and listening to his melodious humming - Charlie knew who’s directly responsible.
“Did you kill Falcone?” she asked him one evening; it took him a while to answer.
“Yes.” he finally said, lazily running his fingers through her hair, wrapping the red strands around his fingers, pulling gently. “He deserved it.”
“Mmm, I’m not questioning it.” she purred, thinking back to the massive file the Agency had on him and his entire family. “I just want to know just how much blood exactly do you have on your hands.”
“Mmm. And why’s that?” he asked, sliding his hand down her back. “Do you want me covered in blood, Charlie?”
“Maybe.” she responded, closing her eyes. “Maybe I do. A girl can dream.”
(His bloodied hands, leaving smudges on her skin; his bloodied lips, leaving a metallic aftertaste in her mouth. A girl can dream - and her dreams were of violence.)
“This girl in particular.” he agreed, gently lifting her chin with his other hand and leaning in to steal a kiss from her, like he did many times before. He was so violent, so merciless; but his kisses felt like peace.
He took her with him next time he claimed a life in revenge; his plan was to dispose of cowardly Hill and to put a final nail in the coffin of Bruce Wayne’s good reputation by exposing what Thomas did to his mother.
From what Charlie saw and heard, Oswald missed his mother dearly; she was a gentle soul who always strived to see beauty and hope in the world. What happened to her, what happened to the entire family - was ugly and dark and so, so unfair. Sins of the father are not sins of the child, and Bruce shouldn’t be paying the price for his father’s crimes - but for Charlie Bruce was just one step above a regular stranger. What Oswald was going to do to him wasn’t just; but she didn’t mind. Maybe she was blinded, maybe she was corrupted - or maybe she simply wasn’t a good person.
“This is going to be a masterpiece.” Oswald mused as they were gearing up in one of Penguin’s hideouts. “Most memorable night in Gotham’s history.”
“More memorable than the night when the Waynes died?” Charlie asked, ruffling her hair; the Pinniped - as opposed to elegant, reserved Schiller-Aberdeen - always had her hair in a state of mess, an uncontrollable mass of locks and curls. It was a good disguise; so far no one seemed to connect the dots.
“Way more memorable.” Oswald assured her, tying his tie. “Archie! The serum.”
“Here.” Tennyson said, throwing Oswald two identical syringes, filled with translucent liquid. “That’s all we’ve got.”
“It’ll do.”
“What’s that?” Charlie asked as Oswald put the syringes in his pocket; in response he snickered.
“Very concentrated truth serum my most skilled accomplice cooked up for me in her spare time, between getting into Wayne’s good graces and writing very passionate articles.” he said with a smirk; he was talking about Vicki Vale - a journalist who originally reached out to him with her findings regarding the true nature of the Cobblepot family tragedy. She was cunning and calculating and very, very good at chemistry. “It exposes the most primal, basic instincts, one’s truest nature and most repressed desires. And in bigger doses… It just makes people really aggressive.”
“Oh.” she said with a nervous chuckle, thinking back to that one time when the Joker drugged her. “Just don’t use it on me.”
“There’s no need. It’s been… Thoroughly tested. Besides - it’s reserved for people I’d rather see dead.” he said with a shrug and a reassuring pat at her back.
Finally, the grand moment came; they crashed the debate between two candidates - and Gotham wasn’t too pleased to see Penguin. For the last few weeks, people thought he disappeared off the face of the Earth; perhaps he got hit with a stray bullet. Perhaps a blade found its way between his ribs. Perhaps he got bored. But no - there he was, in the spotlight, making his grand speech about debts and crimes and punishment.
(Looking at him from behind her mask Charlie wondered if he really did think it through; the pot calling the kettle black.)
All eyes were on him and he reveled in this attention; he had a penchant for theatrics. Vicki Vale played her role well, her hands and voice shaking in a very convincing way; though when no one was looking she rolled her eyes and Charlie nudged her with her bat, muffling her own laughter. Oswald seemed to love listening to the sound of his voice - personally she found it charming. It seemed like Vicki found it obnoxious.
They carried their plan out smoothly; Hill’s true nature was exposed, and so was the fate of Esther Cobblepot.
When Oswald turned his attention to panicked Dent - it was Charlie’s moment to shine. She jumped between two men, as if shielding Dent with her own body.
“Not him, no!” she said, letting Gotham believe there were first cracks among Penguin’s associates.
They let Gotham watch as he pushed her aside and cocked his gun, ready to take Dent’s life; they let Gotham watch as she threw herself at him and as he gripped her wrist so tightly she was sure there will be bruises. They let everyone see this staged lover’s quarrel, this game of lies. They threw their bait, letting Gotham believe Penguin’s scorned accomplice might come to their aid.
“You have quite a grip.” she said later that night, examining her bruises in front of a mirror. “You threw me like a ragdoll.”
“It had to be convincing. Was it convincing?”
“Well, if it wasn’t for me being used to your grips and throws…” she said with a playful smile, rubbing some lotion into her skin; it was a healing concoction, one that would render her bruises practically invisible in no time. “What now?”
“Now we wait.” he said with a yawn. “In a few days Wayne Enterprises board should decide it might be best for Brucie to step down. And that’s where I come in… A tragic hero with spotless record, brought back to Gotham by his beloved, unaware of his tragic history.” he said with a theatrical sigh. “Et voila.”
“This is the most elaborate heist I’ve ever seen, I’ve got to admit.” she said, leaving the bathroom. “I’m impressed.”
“I’ve been planning it for months.” he said lazily. “Vale helped, obviously, even though she pushed for more… Extreme measures. She wanted to take over the city. Me? I just want a front for a criminal empire.” he yawned. “God, I’m so tired. Killing people is exhausting.”
“I can imagine.”
*** Oswald got what he wanted so badly - Bruce Wayne was forced to step down as CEO and Oswald was picked to replace him. All his plans lead to that point, to that decision; the beginning of a new chapter in Cobblepot family history.
“There was no other option.” Charlie claimed with a smile as Oswald was getting ready to confront Bruce. “How shall we celebrate… Mister Cobblepot?”
“I was thinking champagne.” Oswald said, reaching for his cufflinks. “But first I want to look Bruce in the eye. I want to see his face when he realizes he lost.”
“A sight to remember.” Charlie agreed lazily. “I’ll drop by the Wayne Tower later. What exactly did you tell the board?”
“A sob story, naturally.” he replied, rolling his eyes. “And as a result I now got a whole new life handed to me, including a platinum credit card and a penthouse. My puppy eyes are a weapon of mass extortion.”
“Oooh, does it mean shopping for furnitures?”
“Yes. And I will gladly let you drag me from store to store. Everything for good PR and a well earned reputation of a charming gent. How do I look?”
“Like a handsome devil. Go, charm Regina Zellerbach out of her pants.”
Few hours later she paid him a visit in his new office. It was a weird feeling, visiting the Wayne Tower to talk to Penguin - but it worked.
She came in at just the right moment - as she shuffled into the room that would soon belong to Oswald Bruce Wayne landed a punch on Oswald’s face. A shattered remains of a glass box between two men told her everything she needed to know; she gasped audibly as Bruce gave Oswald a black eye.
“Bruce!” she and Regina Zellerbach called out simultaneously.
“He lost his bloody mind!” Oswald claimed, sparks of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you see that, love?!”
“You know him?!” Bruce asked angrily, turning around and facing her. “Him?!”
“I didn’t know!” she lied, opening her eyes as wide as possible in a display of innocent ignorance. “I didn’t know you two have history together!”
“What do you mean you didn’t know?!” Wayne exploded, as Regina hurried outside to get security. “What game are you playing?”
“I’m not playing games.” she said coldly, walking up to Oswald and taking a look at his eye. “I’m a newcomer and don’t know every detail of Gotham’s history. All I know… Is that you just punched my partner. Please don’t involve me in your dick measuring contest.”
“Mine’s bigger anyway.” Oswald muttered and she scoffed, even though she knew he knows she’s actually amused.
“Go to hell, Oswald. Go to hell.” Bruce said angrily, to which Oswald only shot him a cold smile, not quite matching his majestic black eye.
“I’ll say hi to your parents once I get there.” Oswald said politely and Bruce Wayne left his office, leaving Oswald behind as the new lord of the land - triumphant and content, even despite a black eye.
“I think that’s it for my friendship with Bruce Wayne.” Charlie said, glancing in the direction of the massive door. “I don’t think there will be more tea invites. Not after you called me love. Did you do it just to piss him off?”
“That is a remarkably dumb question, love.” Oswald replied and she laughed, shaking her head.
He touched the skin under his eye and hissed quietly.
“Christ, I didn’t know this wimp can throw a punch like that!”
“Another piece of your martyrdom.” she said, sitting on the surface of the massive, wooden desk. “The news story is practically writing itself.”
“Yes, and it will be one hell of an article.” he muttered in response, critically looking at a nearby bookshelf. “I think I’ll throw this one out and replace it with a giant fish tank. What do you think?”
“I think you should take some interior design classes.” she said, lightly tapping the surface of the desk with her fingertips. “Come here, you martyr.”
Zellerbach came back in a perfect moment - just to see Charlie placing butterfly light kisses on Oswald’s latest bruise. They moved away from each other as the chairwoman cleared her throat.
“Well, that was an unpleasant accident.” Oswald stated, fixing his tie and innocently looking at Regina. “What had gotten into him?!”
“No idea.” the chairwoman replied coldly, as Charlie slowly got up. “I take it… This is the partner you mentioned?”
“That’d be her, yes.” Oswald said, briefly glancing at Charlie. “My partner in crime.”
“Oswald!” Charlie scoffed, hiding her smile. “Be serious.”
“This is very interesting, mister Cobblepot. How comes nobody heard about this affair, if you don’t mind me asking?” Regina asked, turning her attention to Charlie.
“When I first visited Gotham we were still a work in progress. A long distance work in progress.” Charlie lied smoothly. “I wasn’t aware of all the details and no one ever asked about my relationship status, so… It never came up.”
“It’s mostly on me.” Oswald added lazily. “I insisted on keeping it like this, lest it would wreck her good reputation and I’d be seen as a parasite.”
“Well, in a few days you’re going to become a very public person.” Regina warned him. “We scheduled the official announcement for Saturday. Brace yourself, mister Cobblepot. Your every step will be watched… Same goes for people you surround yourself with.”
“Oh, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Oswald assured her politely. “I’ve got everything to lose. No rash decisions, no outbursts… I won’t make the board regret this decision.”
(Something in Regina’s eyes told Charlie at least one member of the board probably already regrets it.)
“I’ll be going now.” Charlie said, smoothing her dress out. “Catch me later, so we can get down to furnishing.”
“Someone already arranged a meeting with a designer.” Regina said with a sour face. “Already had been taken care of. The company really wants to keep its good name.”
“Wonderful! Charlie, love… See you later.”
“I’ll get that champagne.” she said before leaving and he nodded vigorously.
He looked like he was in his element - an important position, lots of people following his orders, lots of money, not a whole lot of responsibility.
Bruce Wayne called her when she was buying a bottle of champagne in one of Gotham’s most expensive stores.
“Hello, Bruce.” she said cautiously, putting a bottle in her basket and briefly glancing towards wines.
“Did you know about this?” Bruce asked, skipping the greetings. “His family history, my family history… It’s oddly convenient that he decided to come back just as my corporation needed a new figurehead.”
“Of course I didn’t know!” she assured Bruce, rolling her eyes. “Though to be fair… He does have every right to be angry.”
“You’re on his side?!”
“Of course I’m on his side, we’re in a relationship! Also we live in the same hotel apartment. I think I’d notice if he was involved in some shady business.”
(Like killing the mayor, drugging the candidate and exposing the true nature of Thomas Wayne.)
“Somehow I know you’re not telling me the truth.”
“Oh, come on, Bruce.” she sighed. “Get some rest, collect your thoughts. You’re paranoid. You’re lucky I even picked up, after your little show at the tower.”
“He’s not worth it, Charlie. This affection, this concern, you, you… He’s not worth it.”
“Oh, but he absolutely is worth it.” she said firmly. “If anyone in this situation doesn’t deserve me - it’s you, since clearly you can’t tell the difference between me and Oswald. See you at the press conference, Bruce. I hope you’ll come to your senses.”
She hung up and the cashier - young woman, named Betty - gave her an understanding smile.
“Men.” she said, shaking her head.
“Men.” Charlie sighed theatrically, swiping her card. “And they say us girls are petty.”
(Lying to Bruce Wayne was as easy as breathing, and she felt no remorse for leading him astray; he meant nothing to her. Their friendship was never meant to be; all it was was just another part of Oswald’s plan, another detail of Wayne’s ruined reputation. His father took everything from Oswald - so now Oswald was taking everything Thomas worked for, piece by piece. His son’s happiness was very high on that list.)
Oswald came home soon after her; he wasn’t needed, as all he had to do was to stick around for the IT guys to get him into the system. He seemed very pleased with himself as he opened the door.
“New era is beginning!” he announced. “Penniless, no-good crook Cobblepot is gone. I’m now the richest no-good crook in all of Gotham! God, I sure am glad I killed Hill and Falcone. I’d hate to be number three.”
“And I’m the best liar in Gotham. What an unstoppable force we are!” she giggled from the couch. “How’s your eye?”
“Hurts like shit, but reminds me of good ol’ times. You could always kiss it better, you know. I’m not going to mind. In fact - I demand it. I demand all the kisses I so rightfully deserve.”
“What, did success go to your head so quickly?” she asked playfully as he walked up to her. “You’re bossy. But it’s alright. I like it when you’re bossy.”
“What a funny coincidence! I also like being bossy.”
Next few days were relatively peaceful - Oswald achieved his main goal, so all that was left to do was for him to officially move into his new apartment and begin his new life as Gotham’s brightest, most tragic and most noble star. Officially, he and Charlie came as a joint package; she brought him back to Gotham, after all. It was only fair she remained in his new life - especially considering being in love would be the best PR move of them all. Nobody knew anything about Wayne’s private life - and Oswald made it his mission to be everything Bruce never was.
So nobody as much as batted an eye when they went shopping for furniture together, after planning out the interior design of Oswald’s brand new nest, located - naturally - in best part of Gotham. Oswald insisted on a bed frame with columns, claiming they are absolutely imperative to his wellbeing.
“But why?” Charlie asked, insisting on something way more simplistic.
“This is not a conversation we should be having in front of other people.” Oswald said with a wolfish grin. “But let’s just say… I think you’ll like it.”
“Alright.” she said, giving up. “Have it your way… But I’m picking the couch. And chairs. I need something with comfortable arm rests.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“...can’t you be decent for thirty seconds?”
“I am perfectly decent.” he said innocently. “I’ve got no idea what are you talking about.”
She nudged him with her elbow and they carried on, taking care of one room at a time; Oswald seemed overjoyed at the perspective of furnishing and decorating a luxurious flat.
(Of course he insisted on a bathtub with colorful lights.)
Eventually all that was left was a trip to the tailor, to get him some better quality clothes; and he turned out to be extremely picky.
“Those two jackets are identical, Oswald. Identical.” Charlie groaned after third hour in the tiny, posh shop.
“Don’t you see the difference in shades?!”
“Obviously I do not. You look good in both, by the way.”
“Mmmm.” he muttered, critically looking at his own reflection, same way he did for the past three hours. “No, something’s off…”
“Jesus Christ.” she muttered and he snickered.
“Hey, everything about this new me has to be impeccable. Beautiful flat? Check. Tragically beautiful backstory? Check. Irresistible charm? Check. You? Check. My clothes should represent everything I stand for.”
“So buy this one.” she said, throwing a blood-colored tie at him.
He did end up buying the red tie, and a wide collection of other things; he left his measurements and address and - when he wasn’t looking, too busy admiring his own reflection, like a very bloodthirsty peacock - she sneakily bought him a pair of ruby cufflinks and a matching sapphire tie pin; they were pretty and in her colors - a gift sappy enough for a young couple and showy enough for social elite.
(The cashier seemed tormented by their presence in the shop and she couldn’t blame him - Oswald was unbearable. It was endearing - but also insufferable.)
“Maybe we should wear matching outfits.” Charlie suggested jokingly on their way home; they finally checked out of the Peak and moved their stuff to his new place. They still had a lot of unpacking to do, because they kept getting distracted - mostly by each other. New furniture needed testing, after all. “Wait. Should I even be there, if I’m not affiliated with Wayne Enterprises?”
“Of course you should be there, I have an image to maintain and people to dazzle.”
“...and that’s the only reason?”
“Of course not, and you know it. Or do you want me to spell it out for you?”
“Mmmm. Yes.” she said, not looking at him. “Why do you want me there?”
“Because…” he said, wrapping his arm around her as they were walking down the street. “Because I love you and am so, so thankful for the part you played in this thing. Also because I want to see Brucie squirm. But mostly because you played a role in this thing as well… And I love having your eyes on me. Good enough answer?”
“Yes.” she said as they entered the building. “Good enough… But I think I didn’t quite hear the first part. Care to repeat?”
“The one about me being grateful?” he asked playfully as they were waiting for the elevator.
She pouted and he laughed; but later that night he gave up and told her what she wanted to hear. He told her multiple times, as he peppered her skin with kisses and as she ruffled his hair, trying to pull him closer.
*** The morning of the press announcement came and Charlie wasn’t nervous; why would she? Everything seemed to be working perfectly for them. Oswald - despite Louise’s claims of being a terrible actor - was playing his part well; he was polite, eloquent, charming. He hid his apparent thirst for blood and other darker urges deep underneath; and watching him get dressed up in the morning Charlie almost forgot about the blood he spilled and things he stole.
(She almost forgot about their circumstances.)
“Wear these.” she said, handing him the gift she bought him yesterday. “It’s… A present.”
“Marking your territory?” he asked with a smirk and she scoffed. “I’ll wear them with pride.”
“You better.” she said, disappearing in the bathroom; she had a lovemark on her neck to cover up.
She left the bathroom dressed up and proper; Oswald watched her as she was putting her shoes on, elegant ankle strap pumps.
“You know, I quite like it when you’re all prim and proper and elegant.”
“Why so?”
“Because it creates a beautiful contrast with the way you are when we are alone. Not quite so proper, not quite so elegant… And definitely not quite so articulate.” he said with a smirk. “People look at you and see a graceful, reserved young woman. I look at you and see… More restrained person.” he said, laughing at his own innuendo; a reference to when they were testing out their new bed and he finally revealed why he insisted on the columns. It was a long night for her, as he refused to give her what she so desperately wanted - not until she admitted his idea was good. And it took a lot of convincing to make her crack, a lot of gentle persuasion - but in the end his silver tongue prevailed and she called his name out tearfully, barely able to arch her back due to her restraints.
It was a fun night - even if it left her with new bruises she had to hide. Other people didn’t need to know the details of their intimacy; even if she sometimes entertained the thought of going out with her bruises exposed - he now had a reputation to maintain. No point in spicing it up with easily misinterpreted bruises.
“Same goes for you, actually.” she said as they were leaving the building. “You come off as charming and polite, but I know you’re actually an insufferable prick.”
“Ah, but also a very handsome one!”
“Infuriatingly handsome.” she admitted, thinking back to that one time he pulled her undies down with his teeth and winked at her, making her blush furiously; he then insisted on having her eyes on him, as a motivation to keep being nice.
She thought about it a lot.
“Do you remember about tonight?” he asked as they were driving towards the Wayne Tower.
“Yes. You’re taking me out for dinner, right?”
“Yes, now that I can actually get a reservation at Lafontaine’s, instead of threatening the owner.” he said and she laughed, thinking back to their first date. “New chapter is beginning. Excited?”
“For a glamorous life as Wayne Enterprise’s CEO’s armcandy? Very. Months of the Agency training are finally paying back.”
He winked at her and she blew him a kiss.
When they arrived, he helped her get out of the car and she brushed his cheek with her lips, giving the reporters what they wanted - a tiny window into Oswald’s private life, shrouded in mystery. Gotham’s prodigal son seemed to be a loner of sorts, only seen in the company of his dazzling paramour or her friends; Penguin had a deal with his men, keeping them as far away from Oswald Cobblepot as possible. It fit Oswald’s image quite well - his story was sad, so it was obvious he was a tragically lonely person, rarely trusting anyone. It was a good facade, a perfect fake surface - and Charlie and Oswald maintained it flawlessly, in their expensive coordinated outfits, pleasant smiles, lovestruck gazes and the way he wrapped his arm around her waist and the way she looked at him when he talked with Bruce.
And it wasn’t a pleasant conversation, even though Oswald made Bruce say pretty please. She nudged Oswald with her elbow when she heard the change in his tone; it was something she was very familiar with. Even without looking at him she knew exactly what face is he making.
“My god, Oswald!” she whispered.
“Shhh, darling, restrain yourself.” he whispered back.
“I’ve got a better idea: you do it.” she said, causing him to slightly tighten his grip around her, in a promisingly threatening way. She felt a shiver run down her spine.
Wayne’s last speech didn’t go as planned and she could see Vicki Vale in the front row, furiously taking notes; she looked at Bruce with disapproval. Deep inside, she really hoped he’ll come to his senses and just accept what happened - but no.
(His wild theory about Oswald being involved in some shady stuff wasn’t even that far off - but Charlie knew that cold glimmer in Oswald’s eyes and the coldness of his voice. She was the one who dreamed of his bloodied fingers, leaving smudges on her skin; people of Gotham only knew his charming smile and eagerness. Nobody believed in a single word Bruce was saying.)
Finally, Oswald - as politely as he could, watched attentively by Zellerbach - got Bruce off the stage and took his place. She followed him with her eyes, tilting her head slightly; she wondered if he can feel her gaze, same way she so often felt his on her skin.
Wayne didn’t look great - in fact he looked sick, pale, his eyes fixated on Oswald’s face. He seemed shaky, unstable; concerned - mostly about Oswald - Charlie quietly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Bruce?” she said quietly, and Vicki Vale watched out of the corner of her eye. “Is everything alright? Bruce?”
She put her hand on his shoulder, he slowly turned his head and looked at her, and his eyes were hazy - and then he pushed her aside. He was surprisingly strong and caught her off guard; she lost her balance and would fall down, if it wasn’t for a nearby reporter catching her.
The commotion got people’s attention; before she knew it - Wayne was holding Oswald by the fabric of his shirt. Oswald was shockingly calm, and taunted Bruce; but lost his patience very quickly.
Charlie walked up to them and once again tried to talk some sense into Wayne. Once again she put her hand on his shoulder - to which he let go of Oswald, turned around and caught her by her neck, tightly wrapping his fingers around her throat, choking her. His grip was strong, and she knew she’s going to black out in a moment; but then Wayne suddenly let go of her.
It wasn’t a pretty fight, and Oswald ended up with his knuckles bloodied and new bruises on his face; she was left with a bruised neck. Bruce was left with his reputation completely tarnished; and the press conference was over, with Oswald assuring the journalists he’ll gladly take their questions any other day.
Shaken Charlie was escorted to Oswald’s office, which was in the process of being redecorated; the fish tank was already in place - but it lacked fish.
Oswald joined her few minutes later, putting an ice bag to his latest bruise.
“What was that?!” she asked him as soon as he walked in. “Was that planned?”
“Not by me, that’s for sure. Usually my plans don’t include me getting pummeled into the ground.” he scoffed. “Neither they include you being choked by Bruce Wayne. Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” she sighed, rubbing her neck. “I guess it looks worse than it feels… Though I do prefer when it’s you choking me. You know. “
“You’re still yourself, that’s good.” he said with relief. “I think I know what happened… And if I’m right - I’m going to kill Vicki Vale. I’m going to slit her throat-”
“As much as I appreciate the perspective of you covered in blood… Maybe don’t do that.” she interrupted him hastily. “Come on, Oswald. No harm done, Bruce’s reputation destroyed… Bruises will heal.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Oswald sighed heavily. “Though I do not appreciate the pain. Should I cancel the tonight’s reservation?”
“Are you kidding me? No, of course not! We now have to wear those bruises with pride… Also I really want to try that crème brûlée with raspberry sorbet.” she added and he laughed. “Every time we were at Lafontaine’s we had to stop before getting to the dessert. Maybe those bruises will bring us good luck?”
“Third time’s a charm, so you’re probably right.” he agreed, gently brushing her neck with his fingertips. “Do you think you can fake a breakdown?”
“Aw, trying to get away from work? Bored already, Oswald?”
“I have to be careful.” he said with a shrug. “Gain their trust so they go with changes I’m about to suggest… And going home to take care of someone in hysterics will probably earn me some of those good guy points.”
“Alright, I can be a delicate flower.” she agreed. “Watch out, mister, from now on you have a dainty and fragile lass to take care of.”
Her fake breakdown was a masterpiece, even though she nearly broke the character as Oswald was walking her to the elevator.
“You sure as hell look dainty and fragile when we’re alone and you’re begging, you know.” he whispered into her ear and she quickly turned her laughter into sobs. No one questioned her tears and shivers and how tightly she was gripping the fabric of Oswald’s clothes; Bruce Wayne was allegedly her friend. Of course she was in shock.
“Oh, that was bloody brilliant.” Oswald stated as they got into the car. “You almost convinced me.”
“I almost convinced myself.” she said, glancing at her reflection in the mirror; her eyeliner and mascara were very effectively smudged and the skin around her eyes and lips was rosy. “Come on. Let’s go home, I want to take a nice, long bath before dinner.”
On their way home, Oswald tried to reach out to Vicki - but to no avail. She wasn’t picking up her phone; and Louise claimed she has no idea where is she, stating they broke up a while ago.
“Then maybe I should pay her a visit.” Oswald mused. “Maybe I should gather my boys and pay miss Vale a visit. And then… We’ll talk.”
“Or you could not do that and lure her out instead.” Charlie suggested. “She’s not your enemy, Oswald. Remember, she helped a lot. This probably is just a misunderstanding.”
“You know, I wouldn’t have anything using her serum on Bruce.... If only she told me beforehand. So I could be prepared. You know. I’d come up with a speech, maybe a sharp, witty quip… But this? This ruined a perfect day.”
“Oh, come on. Stop being overdramatic and don’t let something like this ruin a moment of triumph. I’m alive, you were seen as a noble knight, Bruce Wayne was seen as highly dangerous… When you think about it, it’s actually a perfect scenario!” she continued, until - eventually - he smiled.
“You know what? You’re right. You’re right. This is my day. I got a chance to punch Bruce and rack up some social approval points. I’m going to just take a deep breath… And proceed with what I had planned out.”
“...well that sounds surprisingly ominous.” she said jokingly. “Should I be scared?”
“Very.” he said with a cocky smile as he was parking the car. “What, didn’t I tell you? Dinner’s not the only thing I had planned in terms of… Celebration. We’re on top, Charlie. This should be a night to remember.”
“Alright, surprise me then.” she said, getting out of the car. “Just let me take a bath first. And maybe make me some french toast. I’m hungry, but I don’t want to stuff myself before dinner.”
“Ah, you’re such a demanding mistress.” he said jokingly. “Can your humble servant at least get a kiss?”
He got a kiss from her in the elevator, just the way she liked it; with his hand on her back and his finger under her chin. It always made her feel vulnerable, but she didn’t mind being vulnerable around him, despite all odds. Her vulnerability wasn’t a tactical disadvantage - but a source of satisfaction.
Also he looked disturbingly hot with dried up blood splattered on the collar of his shirt, a proof of what happened earlier that day.
“Now make me that toast.” she muttered after stepping into the apartment. “And I’m going to take a bath. God, I can still feel his fingers on my neck.”
“He’ll pay. But as for now… Just relax.”
She took a long, relaxing bath, only interrupted by Oswald bringing her her toast - and his french toast was the stuff dreams are made of. Not sickly sweet, with just the right amounts of brown sugar and cinnamon, with just a hint of nutmeg, crunchy… She had no idea who taught him that and why, but it sure as hell was a useful skill. Completely useless in robberies and arms dealing - but perfect for making her feel at peace. Oswald Cobblepot truly was a man of many talents.
He cornered her some time later. She was trying to figure out the expiration date on a jug of apple juice when he walked in; and she could feel his eyes on her bare legs. He often said he loves the way she looked at him - but the truth was, she also loved the way he looked at her; he always looked at her as if he was planning something positively unspeakable. It was very flattering - and very effective.
“You’re staring.” she said, without turning around. “What is it?”
“You’re wearing my shirt.” he shot back; and he was right, she was wearing one of his better dress shirts, with pearl buttons. “I want it back.”
Something in the tone of his voice told her the correct answer, and she smirked; they played this game many times before, this game of cat and mouse where she’d rather get caught than run away.
“Come and get it then.” she said, putting the jug back in the fridge.
She dove under his arm and bolted out of the kitchen and he followed; it didn’t took him long to catch up to her. It never did, because she never actually tried to put up a fight. Why would she? She liked what came next.
“Nooo!” she wailed as he threw her over his shoulder. “This is not fair!”
“Life’s unfair.” he stated. “Stop squirming, you’re not getting away.”
He got his shirt back, and she got something better; she got his touch and his kisses and his teeth on her neck. His fingers crept between her thighs and she sighed and smiled as he peppered her skin with kisses; on her neck, on her breasts, on her stomach, lower, lower, lower.
He had a wicked tongue, and he often used it to bend people to his will; most often he used honeyed words or sharp threats to do so. In her case, however, it was all about the direct approach - and all about pleasure and shivers and making her arch her back as he teased and taunted her and she moaned and gripped the bedsheets.
He got her to the edge - and then he stopped.
“What?” she muttered feverishly, her face flushed and her thoughts and eyes hazy. “Oh, come on.”
“I’m just trying to make our dinner interesting, that’s all.” he said innocently, sliding out from between her legs and resting his chin on her abdomen. “Speaking of which… We should leave soon.”
“You are the worst.” she stated, running her fingers through his hair. “The absolute worst. You’re cruel and insufferable and generally a prick.”
“All part of my charm, love.”
She laughed and pushed him off and got up to get dressed, knowing it will take a lot of time for the warm tension that built up in her body to go away.
Naturally, he wasn’t going to make anything easy for her. As she left the bathroom - wearing her trademark black lace underwear they both seemed to love - and opened the closet to decide on which dress to wear he cleared his throat.
“Mmmm?” she asked, not turning around. “What is it?”
“I want to see you squirm.” he said and she turned around. “Interested?”
“Oh, very.” she said at the sight of red rope in his hands; they’ve done it before, except that’d be the first time she was among the people with rope under the fabric of her clothes. It was an exciting thought - something hidden in plain sight, a knot pressing against her and the growing sense of desperation.
“Do your magic.” she said. “Just don’t make it too tight.”
“Don’t give me ideas.” he said, already wrapping the rope around her waist.
After he was finished and she tested it out - not too tight, not too slippery, just perfect to make focusing on anything else difficult - he smiled with satisfaction.
“Maybe I should get us last minute opera tickets.” he said and she shot him a terrified look. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just joking. I hate opera.”
“So that’s the only problem here? How comforting.”
She put her dress on - simple and black, with a classic leg cut and Queen Anne neckline, directing the attention to her neck and dark bruises on it. She didn’t wear any necklace that time; only what drugged Wayne did to her. A simple, dramatic statement; for a brief moment she considered poking herself in the eye to make it red, but she gave up on the idea.
“I’m good to go.” she said eventually, putting her hairbrush down and picking her clutch up. “Also hungry.”
“Same on both fronts.” he said, putting on his midnight blue jacket; with a sting of satisfaction she noticed he’s wearing the cufflinks and tie pin she gave him. “So let’s go. Just… Don’t speak French to Moreau if we bump into him. He might figure you out.”
“Oh, I doubt it. He was scared shitless every time he saw me, I don’t think he’s going to connect the dots. But alright, no French tonight… Outside of kissing.” she added and he laughed, making her feel as if she had a bunch of butterflies in her stomach.
It’s been a couple of months since she returned to Gotham after putting everything on one card and leaving the Agency; quite some time had passed since they made up and she earned his trust again - and it still felt like the honeymoon phase of a relationship. She didn’t mind, not at all.
Lafontaine’s main room was well lit, spacious and filled with warm colors and Charlie smiled lightly, thinking back to her secret meetings with Oswald in the vip room located at the back. This time was going to be different; this time everyone knew and all eyes were on them, even though everyone was pretending they’re not staring at Oswald Cobblepot and his paramour and dark bruises on her neck. He seemed confident and polite, keeping his head high and she smiled as he pulled out a chair for her.
(Her breath got shaky for a moment as she was sitting down, the knot pressing against her. So much for the perfect gentleman Cobblepot.)
“I feel like a caged animal in the zoo.” he muttered quietly, so quietly only she could hear him. “Everyone’s staring.”
“I thought you like attention?”
“I do, but I also value my privacy. Also I look out of place.” he pointed out, brushing his jaw with his fingertips; and he was right, in a way. His suit was impeccable; but his face was rough. He was very nice to look at - but his bruises and scar did stand out quite a bit. She could only imagine it’s even more visible when observed right next to her own - rather delicate - features.
“Maybe a bit, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. I like your face.” she said, picking up a menu. “Oh! They changed the selection a bit.”
“Maybe I should skip hors d'oeuvres.” he muttered, winking at her; she quietly laughed, covering her mouth. “And dessert.”
“Somewhere in the afterlife our ancestors are very scandalized.” she said, not looking up from her own menu. “I’m not though, I’m… Intrigued.”
“Patience, darling, patience.”
It was a pleasant evening, even if she could feel other people’s eyes on her skin; strangers looked at their every gesture and tried to eavesdrop on every word, every quiet laugh. She wondered what do those other people see when they glance at them, unaware of blood on his hands and a piece of rope under her dress, what do they see when they look at the way he pours wine for her.
Naturally, he made her squirm a bit; by making her laugh and by lying to her about her lipstick being smudged, which caused her to get up and go to bathroom - and this short walk left her feeling very tense.
“How about a walk before heading home?” he asked playfully after regulating the bill. “The weather’s perfect…”
“You prick.” she whispered back as they were walking towards the exit. “You ass.”
In response he only laughed, pulled her closer and planted a light kiss on her cheek.
“You’re digging your own grave.” he whispered into her ear. “We’re now going… To the opera.”
And he wasn’t joking - he forced her to endure a long spectacle, as they sat in the darkness and his warm hand rested on her thigh and he planted a light, almost mocking kiss on her neck. The much desired release seemed to be very far away.
“Can we please go home now?” she asked eventually, as they were slowly walking down the street.
“Oh, maybe. Why do you want to get home so badly?” he asked casually; she looked around, glancing at other people, who definitely were close enough to hear her if she spoke normally.
“Because I don’t want to be arrested for public indecency.” she said nonchalantly; an elderly couple nearby shot her a scandalized look. “And I’m afraid it’s about to happen.”
“You raise a fair point. Fine, we’re going home… Away from the prying eyes. Just you, me… And all the things I’m going to do to you.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She found out soon enough, and it was a long night for her; she ended up with more bruises and bitemarks and his relentless, merciless teasing turned her into a feverish, bumbling mess under his touch, taunted with fake promises. He wasn’t feeling gentle, and she didn’t mind, not when he pulled her hair, not when he dragged his nails across the sensitive skin of her thigh. It was a long night, and when she finally wrapped her legs around him he laughed in her face and claimed she’s going to break his ribs. He kept laughing as she bit his arm and scratched his back and pulled his hair and only stopped laughing as she kissed him, her breath hot and shaky.
It was a long night and her body was sore, but it was a good kind of sore; one that can be soothed by falling asleep in someone’s warm embrace.
*** He woke her up by dropping a newspaper on her back.
“What?” she muttered without moving, still on her stomach, her cheek pressed to the pillow and her eyes closed. “Can’t it wait?”
“It can, but I want to see your reaction. Come on, Charlie. Rise and shine.”
“Make me.” she muttered, to which he grabbed her ankles and pulled. It worked; fully awake Charlie crawled back into bed and rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, cripes.” Oswald said, seeing the mark his teeth left on her right breast. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I like it when you bite me.” she muttered, reaching for the newspaper. “Oh hey, it’s an article about you fighting Bruce in my defense. That’s a damn good photo.”
“Turn to page six.”
“...what?” she said after rereading the header for a few times. “This is bullshit, I didn’t have an affair with him!”
“I know you didn’t, but I still wanted to see your reaction.” he said, visibly satisfied. “Since officially we go way back… Congratulations, Charlie, you cheated on me with Bruce Wayne. You bewitched him completely.”
“Stop it!” she pleaded as he laughed. “This is giving me the creeps, I’d never see him like this!”
“Oh, this is beautiful. And this alleged quote? Him saying If I can’t have you, no one can? This is absolutely hilarious.”
“Who the hell gave them that quote? Oh, it’s from an anonymous source. Of course. It’s been less than twenty four hours and we’re already in the center of a scandal.” she sighed. “Does it mean I’ll have to cry on live television, saying I’d never cheat on you and am absolutely heartbroken from those allegations?”
“Most likely.” he said with amusement. “It probably also means we’ll have to tell our beautiful, completely fake story. Everyone’s curious about me. All the eyes are on me.”
“Let’s stage a breakup.” she muttered. “Or not. Let’s keep the lie going. Paint you with the whitest paint in existence.”
“I’d like to remind you about a tiny, insignificant detail: we’re together for real. Me being a good person is a lie, us being head over heels for each other… Not so much. Let’s not make it any more complicated, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” he said very seriously. “I’ve got a corporation to take over. With time I’m going to make people forget about Bruce Wayne. I’m going to be so, so much more lovable than he ever was. Let’s not stage a breakup. You’re a terrific actress, Charlie. I’m sure you can squeeze out some more fake tears.”
“I can squeeze out oceans of tears.” she yawned. “Chill out, Oswald, I’m not bailing out. I’m having too much fun. You seem stressed though.”
“I do? I’m not stressed, I’m excited. I finally got my hands on what I wanted. The possibilities… Are endless.”
“Try to not forget about Penguin though. People might get suspicious if he just disappears.”
“Ah, but don’t you worry about a thing, I’ve got it all figured out.” he assured her. “I can lead a double life.”
“We can lead a double life.” she corrected him. “Last time I disappeared people started to suspect Penguin killed the Pinniped and dumped her corpse into Gotham River. And now they’ve seen me disobey you. I can’t just go away, someone might add domestic abuse to your list of charges.”
“Which… Wouldn’t actually be that bad of a move, strategic wise.” he suggested. “It’s all in the behavior. The more different Penguin and Pinniped are from Oswald and Charlie… The better. As far as I’m concerned, we appear to be a picture perfect young couple of polite, charming individuals. Anyone suggesting we might have anything to do with those violent, overly dramatic and theatrical criminals will be seen as crazy.”
“Wow, you really have it figured out. Alright, it’s your plan, I’m just an accomplice.” she said with a shrug. “For now let’s go with the flow. Planning far ahead… For some reason never works out for me. Case in point: you. That wasn’t planned, and look at me now.”
“Oh, I’m looking.” he said with a smirk. “And it’s as pleasant on the eyes, as Cobblepot is easy on the tongue.”
“You must be really proud of that one liner.” she groaned. “It’s terrible. Terrible. Also I’m hungry. Since you’re not letting me sleep… At least compensate me with food.”
“Only if you’ll agree to accompany me today.”
“...well that sounds ominous. What do you have in mind?”
“I want to visit the cemetery where my parents are buried.” he said flatly. “I...Never got a chance to do it, because at first I was on the other side of the pond, and then I didn’t want Gotham to know Oswald’s back. So that’d be the first time… In a long, long while.”
“That’s one way of starting breakfast.” she replied after a pause. “See, now I’m going to feel weird with asking you for bacon pancakes, now that you dropped this grave revelation on me. Of course I’ll come with you, just… Next time maybe pick a better moment to ask. For a seasoned charmer and a diplomat… You have ridiculously bad timing.”
“No one’s perfect, even though I’m pretty close to it.” he said, and he sounded like he was trying to hide his relief behind a facade of cockiness. Being cocky suited him, same way his meticulously tailored suits and old scars suited him; being a sentimental sap suited him as well - but she could imagine he’s not yet ready to embrace that part of himself.
They decided to put fixing the affair with Bruce mess off for later; naturally they had to do it eventually, as Oswald was the second most watched person in Gotham, newly elected mayor Dent being the number one. The anonymous allegation of Charlie secretly putting penniless Oswald - and the then-developing thing between them, according to the fake story they created for the sake of everyone from outside their inner circle - aside for the sake of charming, monumentally rich Bruce… Wasn’t good publicity.
“Did you know there’s an entire hashtag on twitter devoted only to the Waynes thing?” she said as they were driving in a car and she was on her phone. “Waynegate. It’s booming. Also you should get a twitter. We could be disgusting online.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Aaand I just made a mistake.” she declared, liking a tweet. “My account got verified and I just liked a clip of you decking Bruce with mmm whatcha say in the background. God, people are really head over heels with you.”
“Of course they are, I’m charming, tragic and genuine. What’s not to love?”
She snorted quietly. His narcissism was very blatant - he was semi-decent at hiding it, but he also loved to give in to his penchant for theatrics, showmanship and attention. All parts of his charm; sure, it was a very specific charm, but… She liked it.
“Someone just called you Oswald CobbleHOT.” she announced eventually and he laughed. “Their friends are shaming them for it, but they’re adamant. I retweeted it. For now I’m pretending I haven’t read the news and don’t know anything about any affair.”
“It’s Sunday. Let’s have a day off from public relations and maintaining a good image.”
“But you’ve only been a public person for a day! Tired already?”
“I’m never tired.” he said, noticing a good parking spot. “And if I’m tired, I’m tired of other people, not of accomplishing my goals. Also… It’s Sunday and we’re alone. Let’s be ourselves for a day.”
“Oh, right, I forgot your charming and polite persona is just a disguise.” she teased. “No, no, don’t say anything, I know what you mean. I’m just being an ass, since you want me to be myself.”
“Ah, but that’s the entire point, isn’t it? Me being charming isn’t entirely fake. Same applies to you being sweet and gentle. Because let’s face it - you are a very sweet person. Even when you’re being an ass. Especially when you’re being an ass.”
“Oh my gosh.” she said, feeling a lump in her throat. “Stop it, you disgustingly charming sap. Don’t use your charm against me.”
At that time of day - early afternoon - the cemetery was almost completely empty; it wasn’t a good time for visiting dead loved ones. Maybe for the better; crowded cemeteries felt weird, unnatural. There was no privacy, and the ever present sounds of living felt like the disturbance to otherwise firm sleep.
It was a warm, slightly breezy day; and the grave of Oswald’s parents was located in the older, more elite part of the cemetery. Their last luxury - being buried among the elite, right next to the Waynes, as he bitterly pointed out.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” he said as they were slowly walking towards the grave. “Even in death they can’t get away.”
For a forgotten grave, it was surprisingly well-kept - almost as if someone was taking care of it during Oswald’s absence.
“I don’t think it was Bruce.” Oswald stated, looking at the names of his parents inscribed on the tombstone and his eyes eyes looked very shiny. “Since apparently he only just found out about everything.”
“I could check if this mysterious someone left any fingerprints.” Charlie suggested hesitantly, feeling lost. The list of potential candidates wasn’t very long; she remembered Carmine Falcone had a daughter who had a strained relationship with her family, but Sofia lived away from Gotham and Charlie doubted she was aware of exact details of her father’s criminal activities. There also was the daughter of Hamilton Hill, there was Alfred - and that would be it. Even if Cobblepots had any close friends they were unlikely suspects, considering none of them took any interest in Oswald’s wellbeing over the years. Bruce’s good natured butler and the daughters of Falcone and Hill - possibly ridden with guilt over sins of their fathers - were all she could come up with.
“Leave it, it’s not worth it.” Oswald said, not taking his eyes off the black tombstone. “Would you mind if I talked to them a bit?”
“Talking to a grave won’t be the strangest thing you’ve done in my presence, so… Go ahead. Do you want some privacy?”
“No, no.” he replied hastily. “That’s not needed. I’m not going to tell them anything you don’t already know. Dead men tell no secrets… But they also don’t hear any.”
She nodded and gently squeezed his hand; he squeezed hers in return, and for a brief moment he looked more like a scared and lonely kid he once was, than a remorseless criminal he became.
“That’s not how it should have been.” Oswald said finally and she remained silent. “It’s Sunday. I shouldn’t be talking to your grave, I should be talking to you over tea. Both of you should be alive. But you’re not, and there’s no bringing you back - all I can bring back are small pieces of what had been stolen from us. I can use those as a foundation for something new, something bigger… Even if cement between bricks will be laced with blood. I’ve done some truly, deeply reprehensible things, things that go against everything you tried to teach me. But look at where your principles got you, and where mine got me. I can’t say I’m proud of who I am, but I’m getting there. I’m bringing back the good name of our family. I’m starting a new chapter - without the Waynes, without Hill, without Falcone. I cleared the board and now I’m the king.”
He paused for a moment.
“I’m very selective in who I surround myself with.” he said, almost hesitantly. “Scumbags like me, broken like me, angry like me. People I can relate to, people who understand. You wouldn’t like them, but beggars can’t be choosers. Even though I think you’d like her. She’s as horrible as I am, except she’s better at hiding it. Her name is Charlie and she’s standing right next to me. She’s… Helping me. And you know what? Now I understand. Now I understand.”
He fell silent again; after a while he turned his head and looked at her.
“Tell me about your parents.” he said quietly.
“They’re buried in New York.” she replied softly. “I think they’d get along with yours. My mom was a surgeon, and my dad was a politician, with… Ties to the Agency. They were good people.”
“A politician, huh?” he said, his eyes regaining their usual, mischievous spark. “So either that or a good person. Don’t speak in oxymorons.”
“Oh, piss off.”
She smiled and he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, returning his attention to the tombstone.
“Thank you for coming with me.” he said eventually, not looking at her. “It means… A lot. We could visit yours next week if you want to. I think I can squeeze a trip to New York into my oh-so-busy schedule.”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” she said, thinking back to the funeral. “Hey, Oswald?”
“Mmm?”
“I love you. A lot.”
“And I love you.” he replied quietly. “Also I’m going to need your help in doing something incredibly petty.”
“I’m all ears.”
“There’s a photographer stalking us.” he said calmly. “I’ve seen their reflection in the stone, it’s so well-polished. So when we’ll be walking away I’m going to need you to stretch, so I can spit on the grave of Thomas Wayne.”
“Alright, you overgrown toddler, I’m game. He deserves that. Aaaand… Let’s go.”
As they were walking past the grave of the Waynes she stretched, taking as much space as she could; and Oswald slightly turned his head and spat, snickering with satisfaction.
“Happy?” she asked as they were walking towards the gate.
“More or less.”
*** She had to put on quite a show due to the rumors of her having an affair with Bruce - she was very, very curious who came up with that fake quote, who was so desperate to try and wreck Oswald’s spotless reputation by insinuating his partner is unfaithful.
“Maybe it was Vicki?”
“No, I already asked.” he muttered, reading something. “That’s not even her article. She admits to drugging Wayne, but says she has nothing to do with the affair thing. And honestly? I believe her.”
“Wait, hold on. You found her?”
“Yeah, she was hiding from me at the Waterfront. Now that Falcone’s dead it’s much safer. Fish ratted her out. We had a nice chat.”
She raised her eyebrows and he looked up and smiled.
“No, I didn’t break her fingers, if that’s what you’re wondering.” he said politely, answering a question she never asked. “I only yelled at her and threatened to expose her involvement in everything. That convinced her to admitting to drugging Wayne during the conference. She says it’s because she was pissed I refused to go with her impossible revolution. Delusions of grandeur, and so on.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Charlie muttered. “Don’t say anything more, I don’t even want to know. Just… As long as you’re sure she’s not the one responsible.”
“Oh, I’m certain of it. Don’t worry. We’ll get that bastard, and then… We’ll figure something out. You can always go full Gone Girl and fake a diary.”
“Oh my god, you’ve watched Gone Girl? Did you like it?”
“I did, actually. Amy was a terrific - and terrifying - character. Very inspiring.”
“Yeah, that’s an opinion I can get behind with. Alright, I can go Amy Dunne on the press. It can be arranged.”
But first, it was time for tears - a very heartfelt, tearful interview with Cobblepot’s lovely, dainty partner, the girl who brought him back and was absolutely heartbroken at the allegations. Of course she would never cheat on him, she never as much as considered it; she loved him with her whole heart, it was love at first sight, almost like a fairytale.
“He’s a gentleman.” she stated, her skin bruised by handcuffs and marked by his teeth safely hidden under the fabric of her elegant clothes. “A good man, with heart in the right place, even despite everything he’s been through.”
(He laughs as he talks about burning Gotham down; she wonders if someone from the Agency is watching, listening.)
“And how did you two meet?”
“In the middle of a night, in a dark alley… I had a knife to my neck and stranger’s hand up my skirt and that’s when Oswald showed up. He didn’t quite look like a knight in shining armor, in that ridiculous coat of his, but… In that moment I understood how Guinevere felt when Lancelot swept in.”
She gave a serene smile, thinking back to their true first meeting; abandoned warehouse, sense of urgency in the air.
“He’s gentle and kind and I would never hurt him like this. I love him too much. Sure, we had to spend some time apart, but… This idea never occurred to me. I missed him dearly - but there’s no good substitute for Oswald. There’s no substitute, period.”
And so the interview went, filled with half-truths and not-quite-lies and sweet declarations of love. They asked her about their sex life, to which she nervously smiled and stated she’d rather not get into detail, but in general it’s very normal, nothing out of the ordinary.
(His fingers wrapped around her neck feel like the gentlest of kisses, and the constant denial feels like the most generous of gifts.)
She painted their relationship in the most dreamy, fluffy colors possible - and not everything was a lie. She’d never cheat on him, there was mutual trust, they had something special, something she wouldn’t have with anyone else. And Louise - her alleged long lost school friend - confirmed her lies without as much as batting an eye; yes, Charlie already was infatuated with Oswald when they reunited in Gotham. Yes, she wouldn’t shut up about him. Yes, it was unbearable. No, she doesn’t know if she’s the new district attorney, what is this interview even about?
Oswald - who watched the entire thing live on his phone - was overjoyed; he claimed she was terrific and very, very convincing. She wasn’t so sure about that last part.
“Aww, someone on twitter is already over analyzing everything.”
“Anything good?”
“Yeah. lmao “vanilla sex” this is a face of a liar”
“Yeah, to be honest… That was the least convincing part.”
“I wasn’t expecting a question about sex! You know, I had a - very brief - moment of being very close to saying the truth… But there were no good words for it. Also I’m not sure Gotham general population would appreciate me suddenly going he likes to tie me up and make me beg, and he’s good at it, also our safe word is WAYNE and you wouldn’t BELIEVE what he sometimes does before we go out!”
“I can imagine that would be one hell of a scandal, your chivalrous knight actually being a deviant.”
“Deviant in a shining armor and on a white horse.” she corrected him and he laughed and pulled her closer.
*** They were absolutely disgusting together, as stated by Louise and other people unfortunate enough to spend time with them. It was mostly friends she made in Gotham; he was surprisingly antisocial and heavily relied on her in terms of networking. She was good at picking the right people to befriend - smart, capable, influential in some way. Oswald seemed to get along with pretty much everyone; he was simply terrible at making the first step. How he managed to gather a group of loyal people was beyond her; but he found a way.
Her new friends - people she met through Louise, who spent so much time in Gotham she was basically rooted there - seemed to accept him with no problem, occasionally joking about moving up in the social ranks, considering they’re suddenly hanging out with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. The only downside was the fact she had to keep her dainty act up around them; but she was starting to sort of like this role. It was kind of nice, being able to - for a while - forget her training and just be a well mannered, bubbly girl from a good home, a gentle soul, so unlike the wild Pinniped, who seemed to defy her Penguin more and more often, planting seeds of discord among his men. Naturally, it was all an act; all was good between them and his men were simply following orders. Oswald had his eyes set on a particular plot of land; and he was willing to go to great lengths to acquire it. Simply buying it was out of question; so he had to think strategically.
And he wasn’t half bad, Charlie decided; in fact - he was doing good as CEO, slowly gaining more and more trust and respect. He wasn’t able to resist the temptation of spending enormous amounts of money - but it was alright. No one actually expected him to not buy a yacht, or a painting, or something equally useless. Officially and publicly they lived in a way everyone expected them to - they were often seen together, hand in hand, smiling, in love. Eating brunch, attending a fundraiser or a vernissage or a spectacle, shopping. People were enthralled with them as a couple, the way he’d wrap his arm around her waist, the way she’d rest her cheek against his arm, the way they’d lightly kiss before parting ways, the way they’d call each other honey, darling, love.
For his birthday, she reached out to Sofia Falcone, who inherited all of Carmine’s belongings; there still was quite a number of Cobblepot family memorabilia in his collection and she gladly took it off Sofia’s hands. She never talked about it publicly - but somehow the press just knew. He was moved - and that night he was tender and gentle. He didn’t give her any new bruises to hide under clothes; he touched her softly, and she didn’t mind, she didn’t mind at all.
It was a good life. They mostly only had evenings and nights and weekends for each other, so they were making the most out of it; during the day he was busy being professional and competent, and she was busy helping out at one of local dog shelters. She always liked dogs - they were loyal and kind and wonderfully silly and she could spend an eternity surrounded by them.
It also led to Oswald seeing her in pants for the first time - it just… Didn’t happen before. During their months together, he’d only seen her in dresses or skirts - that’s just how the life was.
“What.” he said after bumping into her, as she was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “WHAT.”
“...what?” she asked, looking at him. “What?”
“Those are pants. Until now I didn’t even know you have those.”
“...of course I have pants. Jeans, dress pants, yoga pants… You didn’t think I practice yoga naked, right?”
“I… Never thought about it. Shit, I just lost a bet to Louise. I claimed there’s no way you own pants. She said there’s no way you don’t.”
“Do you want to be even more shocked?”
“Oh, I’m not sure if my heart can take it.”
“I also have shoes that have flat soles.” she said, pointing at her feet; he dramatically clutched his heart.
(He later told her she looked beautiful; no matter how many times she heard it from him - it always left her with a flock of butterflies in her stomach.)
***
They reached peak gross at a Halloween party in Virago, shortly after his birthday.
It took them quite some time to decide on their costumes - he insisted on something matching, which narrowed the selection. They toyed with many ideas - vampire and his thrall. The witch and her servant. The most classical duo of them all - angel and devil. They tested out a lot of ideas, mostly through bed - they were like that. They liked to sometimes spice things up with a little roleplay. For his birthday they decided on a very fake, very pleasant kidnapping; it was fun, especially the things he did with a knife.
(She still had shivers thinking about the cold tip of the knife slowly sliding across her skin, sharp edge cutting through her clothes. She wouldn’t mind a reprise.)
The final idea came to them by accident; she was bored and alone at home and he was at a business meeting, charming the pants off potential investors. She wasn’t making anything easy for him; she just bought herself a new, pastel-pink lingerie set and was in the process of demonstrating it to him through photos, when someone on twitter made a dumb joke.
and persephone is back to getting dicked down by hades in the underworld
That was almost like a revelation - the most obvious choice, and probably also the best one. She was so excited she accidentally almost posted one of her - thankfully more coy - photos online; and Oswald agreed that this indeed does sound like the best idea.
So - night of the party had come and they were both ready, clad in their costumes. His himation was dark, and he wielded a sceptre and wore a cypress crown on his head; her chiton was light pink - even though they weren’t sure if ancient Greeks even had this color of fabric - and decorated with flowers. She also wore a crown of flowers in her hair - and also carried a plush Cerberus around under her arm, because Oswald insisted on it, claiming it was too adorable to be left at home.
Under the fabric, an intricate web of rope was wrapped around her body; Oswald outdid himself this time, not limiting himself to a simple knotted piece between her legs. He managed to tie everything in a way that rendered it invisible to someone who didn’t know it’s there; there were no stray pieces, no unnecessary loops peeking from underneath the fabric.
“Oh my god, you look adorable.” he said after seeing her in full costume. “I’m not going to be decent tonight. This shade of pink? Your color. Literally. It’s the color of your-”
“-sensitive parts, yes.” she said, her cheeks red. “Alright, be indecent. I guess no one can expect decency from a god of death.”
“Maybe I should kill someone and cover myself in blood. What do you think?”
“I think I wouldn’t mind, even though it’d ruin our good bedsheets.”
“There’s always a kitchen table, or your favorite chair, or a wall, or-”
“Oswald!”
“Fine! I’ll be good now.” he promised. “Even though I will live up to my costume. I think I know exactly what did Hades do to keep Persephone at his side… Except for the pomegranate thing, that is.”
“Well, color me intrigued.” she giggled, picking up her plush dog. “Come on. We’ll be fashionably late… Again.”
Rumi Mori - their gracious host and owner of the Virago - was dressed up as Dionysus, as Charlie pointed out, nudging Oswald with her elbow; their friends rolled their eyes as they noticed their costumes. Apparently dressing up as Hades and Persephone was obnoxious - even though she could clearly see other, much worse, costumes. Vicki and Louise came as a cat and mouse, for god’s sake.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Oswald asked quietly, watching very chatty Mori. “Remind me, how did your visit go?”
Few weeks earlier Charlie - disguised as the Pinniped - paid Mori a late night visit. This short and round foreigner was a man of many faces; not only he was the owner of a place Oswald badly wanted to purchase, he was also one of Gotham’s leading arms dealers - and Penguin’s main business rival. He was cunning and deceptive, stealing lucrative deals right from under Penguin’s beak; and this was a good occasion to kill two birds with one stone.
So one night Charlie snuck in, alone; it was a dangerous mission, but Oswald had faith in her abilities. She cornered Mori in his office, where he was enjoying a late night glass of scotch.
“Mori, Mori, Mori.” she said, slowly approaching him. “We need to talk.”
Before the plump businessman reacted, she pacified him; he wasn’t an action oriented person, so it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. She sat on the surface of his desk, looking at his mortified face from behind her mask.
“Do you know who am I, Mori?” she asked, crossing her legs; he nodded.
“You’re the Penguin’s woman.” he said shakily; she scoffed and shook her head.
“Wrong answer, Mori. Try again.”
“Y-you’re the Pinniped?”
“Correct. I am the Pinniped. I belong to no one.” she said, glancing at her nails.
(That was a bold lie. She wasn’t Oswald’s property, and he wasn’t hers - but they belonged together, as partners in crime.)
“Naturally, I used to think otherwise.” she continued in a casual, friendly tone that scared Mori shitless. “I used to think I belong at his side, I used to think I belong in his heart, I used to think I’m lesser than him. I used to think so many foolish things.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” he said shakily.
“Don’t interrupt me, Mori. Anyway. The Penguin… This stupid, beaked bastard… Wronged me one time too many. And you know how the old saying goes - hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He underestimated me. He thinks I belong with him. He thinks… He belongs in my heart.”
This time Mori didn’t say anything; he was listening attentively.
“He thinks I’m so, so blindly loyal, you see. He thinks I’m mindless and inert and docile, until he wants me to be aggressive. He thinks wrong. In fact, he does a lot of things wrong. He’s a lousy, self-centered lover… And an egomaniac, in love with the sound of his own voice.”
Those things were almost painful to say.
“He said some things he should have kept to himself - but no, he shared them with me… And now I’m willing to share them with you, to teach him a valuable lesson. Interested?”
“Yes.” Mori said in his most business-like voice. “Please. Continue.”
“The deal is simple: I know when and how Penguin wants to take you out.” she stated. “He hired the best of the best, someone you can’t afford… But luckily, I know someone who can offer more. The only problem is… You have something this person really, really wants.”
“Well?” Mori asked tensely, slightly leaning towards her. “What is it? My treasured jadeite? Secrets of the Waynes? My lucky dice?”
“Virago.” she replied lazily. “I am, naturally, talking about Oswald Cobblepot. He’s a man with many, many connections… And can buy your grim reaper out. Except… He doesn’t have a reason to want to do so. Show him some good will, Mori. Or not - and wait for the inevitable.”
She left Mori that night with something to think about; she played on his fear of death, she planted the seed of fear in his mind - and now the night of truth had came.
“I think it’ll work.” Charlie whispered back to Oswald. “Look at him. This is not a face of a happy man. This is a face of a man drinking his anxiety away. Sorry for calling you a lousy lover, by the way. You’re not lousy.”
“Yes, I think the sounds you make when we’re busy speak more than actual words. Did you ever hear yourself moaning? I should record it some day.”
“Record it all you want, but if you’ll play it to anyone… I’ll stab you.”
“That’s kind of hot. Care to dance?”
“Yes.” she said, before remembering about her rope. “Wait, no!”
But in response he only snickered.
“No taksies backsies.” he hummed, already leading her onto the floor. “Come on, my wife born of spring. Be strong.”
“You ass.” she muttered quietly as they danced and the warm tension started to build up in her body as a result of this maddening friction. “Why are you like that?”
“Several reasons.” he said nonchalantly. “One: I like when people actually ask for things they want from me. Two: being flustered suits you and I enjoy seeing you like this. Three: I’m an asshole, plain and simple.”
“Well, at least you’re self aware.” she breathed out, hiding her face in his arm. “Heads up. Mori’s walking towards us.”
“Mm. Will you be good when I leave you to make the deal?” he asked, gently raising her chin with his fingers; people were watching, as he leaned in and kissed her lightly, just before Mori tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around with a polite smile.
They disappeared for an hour or so; Charlie spent this time chatting about everything and nothing with Vicki and Louise. They didn’t as much as mention the conference incident; there was no need for it. Vale and her ambitions were an enigma of sorts for Charlie - but she decided some mysteries are better off unsolved. She didn’t need to know everything; she was alright with being just a piece of the puzzle, rather than the puzzlemaster.
Finally Mori and Oswald returned; Mori looked serene, while Oswald looked like a very satisfied, fat cat, barely containing his grin.
“Don’t worry about a thing, mister Mori.” Oswald assured him, wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist. “Your problem’s as good as gone. Now, have you met my fair lady?”
“Didn’t have the pleasure.” Mori said, briefly glancing at Charlie, nodding slightly and returning his attention to Oswald. “You’re a good negotiator. You inherited your father’s blood.”
He bowed and left and Oswald followed him with his eyes, his polite, amused smile getting fainter and fainter and his eyes getting darker and darker. Charlie felt a shiver run down her spine; unimpressed Louise sipped her wine.
“I can’t say I’m going to miss him.” she said finally. “He did just sign his own death warrant, didn’t he?”
“He signed it many years ago, when he sided with Thomas Wayne.” Oswald corrected her calmly. “For a casino owner, Mori is ridiculously bad at foresight. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
He didn’t say anything to Vicki, who also remained silent; they only looked at each other, as if simply being seen talking would be enough for Gotham to figure them out. It was nonsense; but Charlie decided to let Oswald have his oddities and little paranoias.
“Where are you taking me? Or rather us.” she corrected herself, raising her plush dog. “Not that I mind.”
“Oh, I thought we could use some alone time.” he said carelessly. “You know. Celebrate. And take advantage of how good you look, agapiméni mou.”
“Did you learn some Greek just to flirt with me while staying in character?” she asked, laughing quietly; he smiled with satisfaction.
“Yes, but unfortunately, ancient Greek was out of my reach… So don’t expect elaborate hymns.”
“So how did it go with Mori?”
“As for next week, I own this place. Meaning… Mori’s obsolete. I’ll take care of him eventually. Let him believe he’s under my protection.”
They found an empty side room, and before she knew it - his hands were under the fabric of her clothes and he was kissing her and his lips tasted like honeyed wine and she smiled, wondering if this is how Persephone felt after bidding farewell to Kore.
His hands were ice cold, and when he cupped her breasts she knew he’s doing it on purpose; cold was very effective against her and she writhed and mewled as he teased her, one of his hands pushing aside the rope and her underwear, his lips on her neck. The room was dangerously close to the main event, and the walls seemed paper thin; she had to cover her mouth with her hand as he was doing his magic with her body. The line between what she wanted from him and what he was going to give to her was but a gossamer thread; and he somehow always knew what to do to keep her from crossing.
“What are you going to do to Mori?” she whispered. “Tell me.”
“I’ll just make him disappear.” he whispered back, his fingers between her thighs. “And no one will ever know, and the only trace left will be blood on my hands… Maybe I’ll write my name with his blood on your skin. Maybe I’ll write a love poem. Roses are red, blood is red too, I’m bad at poetry, but I truly love you.”
Her laughter mixed with moans as she quickly covered her mouth again, her body shaking slightly. She was still laughing when they left the room, her body even more tense than before, her cheeks red and her eyes hazy; she could feel someone’s disapproving look on her, but she didn’t care enough to look around. Who was to stand between Hades and his queen? Even other gods weren’t brave enough to intervene.
They went home eventually, and she finally got what she wanted; she always did. He claimed he simply can’t say no to her, not when she looked at him like that and her voice sounded more like a breathy whimper; for some reason she never got tired of his theatrics and intricate plans, not when his touch made her feel like this. She loved him, plain and simple; and she told him that, over and over, as Gotham city was falling asleep and under his fingers her skin felt like fire and he sang her body electric.
*** Even though very few people knew the details of what was between them, everyone knew it’s as clear as day that Oswald Cobblepot and young woman living with him love each other; very few people knew just how bloody it was and how many dark parts his soul had and how much she loved every single one of them - but everyone saw the way they look at each other and get lost in each other’s eyes. Apparently it was heartwarming; Oswald was very determined to make Gotham ten times as much as it ever loved Bruce and his parents - and being seen as one part of a committed relationship, completely smitten with his partner certainly helped. Bruce Wayne had a reputation of a playboy, and a capricious and rather shallow one; Oswald Cobblepot was a charming gentleman - who only ever looked at one person in that special, soft way. He wasn’t above kissing a lady’s hand - but only in her case he’d look up and look her in the eye and smile.
And everyone ate that up. In fact - their very public, very fairytale-like relationship turned out to be so in sync with what the general public wanted it soon stopped being enough. People wanted more, expected more; and Oswald seemed to be very committed to the role he was playing.
(It wasn’t all entirely fake, naturally; he was charming and charismatic and intelligent. He simply didn’t want what’s best for the company - he wanted what’s best for himself.)
He dropped the bomb on her one evening, when they were alone; that day he seemed uncharacteristically anxious and she couldn’t figure out why. Everything seemed to be going fine - no one was even close to figuring out the Penguin, and Rumi Mori investigation hit a dead end.
(He did just what he planned, and Mori disappeared without a trace, leaving Oswald as the sole owner of the VIrago and Penguin as Gotham’s most reliable arms dealer.)
“Something’s eating you.” she said finally as they were in the kitchen; he was attempting to make churros and she watched. She liked watching him in the kitchen; he was a much better cook than her and watching him doing something as mundane as cooking was very entertaining, considering what kind of person he was.
“I guess you could say that, yes.” he muttered in response and she sighed.
“Oswald.” she said softly. “I’m fine with you keeping secrets from me, considering the way we first met, but it’s clear you have a problem. And I need you to remember - you’re not alone anymore. Talk to me.”
“There’s no need for grand speeches, really.” he said, not turning around. “And I trust you. I know you have my back, and I know you really left the Agency.”
(He checked, as he admitted some time ago; he had a highly skilled friend who found a backdoor access to the Agency database. Charlie was on the list of retired agents, with an annotation of being highly unreliable, unfit for the Agency and a potential person of interest; her database and requisition office access were revoked, and so were her license, ID and government-issued seal of immunity, protecting agents from getting in trouble with local law enforcements when on undercover missions. That was an undeniable proof of her really leaving this behind.)
“So, how do you want me to put it?” he asked, finally turning around. “Flowery prose? A statement plain and simple?”
“Don’t overdo it. Just tell me what’s up. I can take it, at this point I think I’m used to you and your revelations.”
“Have you noticed how my public persona is doing much, much better than Bruce ever did? I’m likeable, charming, popular… Everyone loves me, and the board is no exception. The board loves me… Of course, except for Regina.” he corrected himself, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t trust me, but it’s alright, it’s mutual. Anyway. There had been some very subtle suggestions that I should make a certain PR move Bruce never did.”
“...go on.” she said carefully, trying to figure out what is he going to say next. “Though the list of things he never did is… Short. What are you expected to do, resurrect Martin Luther King? End world hunger? Travel back in time and stop Hitler?”
“Nothing of that magnitude, though I wouldn’t be so fast about getting number two off the table. No, the board suggested I should probably present myself as… Being more like my father, and less like Bruce.”
“...but are you talking about appearance, or-”
“No, Charlie, I’m talking about being engaged. The board wants me to get engaged.” he finally blurted out. “As a PR move, nothing more. You know. To present me as truly bringing back the good name of the Cobblepots.”
“Oh.” she said after a long moment, filled with heavy, tense silence. “Oh.”
“Oh.” he agreed. “Not quite what I expected when I was planning this thing.”
“Not quite what I expected when I was taking that assignment.”  she agreed. “Christ, I was supposed to bring you in, not help you take over Gotham and get engaged to you in the process. Somewhere in the afterlife… My father is very, very disappointed.”
“Wait. Does it mean… You’re on board?”
“Well, yeah.” she said with a shrug. “Believe it or not, but I’ve been engaged once. It didn’t end well, as you probably figured out from the fact I was single like a Pringle when we’ve met, but it already happened once. I can get engaged to you. Just as long as you don’t come home next month and announce it’s time for a wedding. I’m not… Big on actual marriage.”
Her nonchalance and this sudden verbal outburst were merely a facade, behind which her actual surprise was hidden; she wasn’t expecting that, not in a million years. Not even once she considered transforming their relationship along these lines - she was fine with its status quo. Engagement and marriage were merely legal formalities, unnecessary deadwood; she made her choice and she was making it every day, after waking up and before falling asleep. But she made her promise, of helping him any way she could; she couldn’t bail out now. Not only it’d ruin his plans - it’d probably also break his heart, which was much more fragile than he wanted the world to believe. His life wasn’t gentle with him; and she saw no reason to further add to his list of poorly repressed issues. Also, she loved him - she could bear some formalities, as long as it was for him. She could think of much worse people to get engaged to.
“Really?”
“Yes, Oswald, really. It’s a strong, definite yes from me. Plus it’s not even the weirdest thing you’d have me do for the sake of your plan. Remember, we’re staging a falling out between the Penguin and the Pinniped. I think I can bear walking around with a ring on my finger, as compared to going around and talking shit about you.”
“See, this is something I’m not getting. Why are you like that, Charlie? I know why I am like that - but you have no reason to be so on board with everything I do. So… Why?”
“Maybe I’m just as awful as you are.” she said with a shrug. “Maybe I don’t feel like coming up with elaborate plans on my own, so I’m fine with just following someone more decisive around. Maybe I just love you. Maybe it’s all of the above.”
“I’m fine with those options.” he said, sounding relieved. “So. Let’s get to planning.”
“Wait. Planning?”
“I’m Gotham’s precious crown jewel. We should do it the old fashioned way.”
“Just admit you want attention.”
“Love, everything I do is for attention. I’m a showman at heart.”
They did it the old fashioned way, and in style. He struck a deal with Gotham’s constantly stressed out mayor; Wayne Enterprises covered all expenses of renovating the Cobblepot Park, and in exchange Oswald for one afternoon got exclusive access to it. Only he and people from the super secret guest list were to be let inside; Charlie insisted on not doing it too publicly, lest it would attract the Agency’s attention. She was sure she has nothing to worry about - Penguin hadn’t been up to anything from outside his usual list of activities, meaning he was a nuisance at best and a moderate, local threat at worst - but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
She wondered if her Agency pals followed the Gotham news; she wondered what does Amanda Waller think when she turns on the TV and sees Oswald Cobblepot prospering and succeeding.
Officially Charlie had no input in planning the entire thing - unofficially she made the majority of decisions. She decided she wants it to be a casual brunch, with mimosas and pink wine and sweets from the bakery near the Peak.
It was a weird feeling - getting engaged to a criminal. Not something she expected to happen at any point in her life, but then again - neither she did with the deaths of her parents, joining the Agency, becoming a criminal herself. She kept telling herself it’s just a facade, an act, just a mere formality; she was ready to go to great lengths to help Oswald.
But still - it felt and sounded weird. Really, really weird.
And then the day had come and she played her part perfectly, the role of someone unsuspecting and oblivious. She acted like she believed it’s just a private reopening of the Cobblepot Park; infused with Oswald’s money, the park looked breathtaking and her amazement wasn’t fake.
And then the weirdest moment came; that thing she never planned, that thing she never thought would ever happen. He made a short speech - a love letter of sorts, a long and fake list of metaphors for everything they’ve done together. He told all those allegories and metaphors and half lies, talking about how she inspired him to be a better person and completely omitting her acceptance for everything dark and bloody about him.
He kneeled in front of her, because of course he did, after all they were doing it the old fashioned way. He pulled out the box, containing Esther’s engagement ring, slightly modified to fit her finger better.
He asked the question, looking her in the eye with that dark, mischiaevous spark she knew and loved so much, that glimmer that drew her in all those months ago.
“Will you marry me?”
That was definitely the weirdest moment of Charlie’s life - a wanted criminal she was an accomplice of, asking her to marry him in a PR stunt. And the weirdest part was - it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel entirely fake. She loved him for real and he loved her back - so she didn’t feel like a liar when she answered.
“Yes.”
Engagement was just a formality, just a PR stunt; she realized it suddenly and with full force as he was putting the ring on her finger. They didn’t need it. What they had was real, with or without the presence of a marriage officiant.
Her life took a weird turn; but she didn’t mind, she didn’t mind at all.
*** The sword of Damocles never fell; and somehow they kept on living. Gotham loved Oswald and Charlie and feared the Penguin and the Pinniped; the latter seemed to be on a warpath, after a dramatic fallout. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and hell hath no resentment like a man fooled - and those caught in the crossfire of their lover’s quarrel were very eager for a way out. And thus Oswald built his small empire, hidden in plain sight, right under everyone’s noses; and he was a skilled architect, and a very patient one. He also turned out to be a very good actor, despite Louise’s constant claims; only once he got even remotely close to getting in trouble - when someone accused him of secretly supporting the Penguin, who for some reason targeted those who wronged the Cobblepot family. Oswald came out clean - and in return sued the poor sod for libel. That’s just the kind of person he was.
Somehow Charlie knew this is the best possible world for them; the realization came to her one night, in her dreams. She opened her eyes and she was in his arms and his breath was on her skin and she remembered a voice, telling her - that this is as good as it gets for them.
They were on top of the world in that one. Life was good, even if they didn’t deserve it, even if their happiness was paid for with blood, even if they shouldn’t be what they became in the first place. Life was good.
Gotham never learned what hit it.
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ravenwytchbytch · 7 years ago
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The Beggar Princess
Ch: IV - Loyalty
Elijah was as restless to continue his evening duties in the one placed he detested the most. The high council, where all business involving the crown, the realm, and its people were discussed and as always he listened to Ser Donovan read the account for the evening. High on the priority list as every evening since he had sat in the council was the rebellion, the only minor issue that needed the attention of the council was the date of his brother’s marriage.
“If we can begin I would like to settle on a date of the union for our Crowned Prince and Duchess Forbes.” He looked at the list of dates chosen by the Eminent Eüllo. “His Eminence believes that an auspicious day would bring great blessings for the union while providing hope to those in the land.”
Kol smothered chuckle, “Why not have them marry on the day father took the crown. That was truly an auspicious day.”
 Kol’s comment earned him a disapproving look from Elijah, “What day is more auspicious than the Treath celebration.”
“As you say brother the festivities along with the celebration should lift the spirits of the people.” Kol gasped in a feign attempt of surprise, “but I had forgotten about the rebelling lords and commoners.”
“Reports from the Southeastern camps have seen a dramatic drop in rebel activity. The lords in the region report that the calm brought to the countryside has seen a return to commerce to villages and the fields harvest is on their way“, Elijah announced in a steady tone.
“Yet, Lord Elijah, in the West I have heard by my own brother’s account that the forces there have tripled in the last few days.” Lord Salvatore Damon, a raven-haired upstart that had somehow been elevated to a Lord important enough to be in the chamber.
“Who cares about the West? Nothing but bought title lords, no offense Lord Salvatore, and vineyards.” Kol said mockingly. “Moreover what do we care for a region of field peasants?”
“These are our people-”
“Who are killed by their neighbors, their countrymen.” Kol interjected, “Honestly brother, we didn’t have much issue killing them before when we were seizing the throne and kingdom, but now split hair over them liking us.”
“I hate to agree with his highness but he is right. Crush the Western lords; the longer we wait In hope that they will be pacified by the marriage the more time we give the disgruntled villagers to side with them.” Damon seemed far too pleased at his idea.
“And if we continue we ignite the tempered flames of the nobles who have settled down in other regions.” Elijah slammed his fist on the table.
Staring down the three individuals in the room Kol and Lord Damon were like vicious dogs ready to strike the first blow between one another; meanwhile, Ser Donovan was the only one who had remained silent on the matter 
“And you Ser Donovan, while do you choose to remain silent on such matters?” Elijah had a hard time containing his anger.
Ser Donovan cleared his throat pausing for a moment to stare at the three noblemen before him, “The people are not so easily distracted my lord. They certainly desire a return to normalcy but to wager it all on a royal marriage, forgive me, but it seems a foolish gambit.”
Elijah’s control was waning he was at his wit’s end; Elijah slowly rose from his seat his eyes locked on all three.
“I see we will not have any progress today gentlemen. I think we can end our conversation for today.” Elijah dismissed the three councilmen present.
He was quick to the door passing by the three and not bothering to offer his hand for courtesy, Elijah was in no mood for courtly decorum. While in the past the appearance of Niklaus was sporadic, the King’s was completely absent. As always his father, and brother, Niklaus, had left the running of the country to him, and while 10 men were to sit at the table few bothered to come insulted by the absence of their King and Crowned Prince Niklaus, but it was nothing new for Elijah
Elijah could hardly remember the softer years of his youth, a vague image of what his father remained in his mind but since the day his mother remarried Mikael Mikaelson had shown to be far more hands-off, especially when it came to him and his older brother, Finn, well-being. If it was a task that was not to his liking he would ignore it completely. In truth in his younger years, his step-father had a great distaste for him and his brother. When his younger siblings had been born he did well to push them behind. After all, Mikael was a Duke; so naturally, his children took precedent over step-children whose father had been an Earl.
Despite the effort he threw to separate his siblings Elijah had been close to each one. Niklaus had carried the years of Mikael’s pressure of perfection as well as his criticisms when he fell short of his expectations. He was good at shaming the two of them simultaneously; one for not meeting his expectation and the other for realizing his best wasn’t that. Yet when the war had started Mikael had called on him for the support of his claim. He had given Mikael control of his father’s army all in the hopes of receiving in some vain attempt at acknowledgment.
It was in those months that Mikael proved the ever masterful manipulator, praising Elijah for his genius over his tactics, but giving the credit for the victory to Niklaus. Elijah scowled at the memory of his jealousy and truthfully his desperation for fatherly affectionate.
Even in his darkest thoughts, Elijah would recognize the familiar voices of Lady Petrova whose soft voice echoed up the courtyard. Simply fashioned in a long sleeved dark emerald linen dress her hair was done in a plaited fashion, atop her dark crown of hair was a silver circlet encrusted with emeralds.
“My lady the fabrics you’ve chosen were beautiful.” Her cheerful tone was uplifting tugging a small smile to the somber lord.
“I hope Prince Niklaus approves of it.” Lady Caroline had a soft smile and a softer way of speaking.
“What a sight to behold, no Lord Elijah?” Elijah mood spoiled in an instant as he slid his glance to his side.
“Yes, I am glad that Lady Caroline is in good spirits.”
“I was more interested in the tasty little brunette.” Elijah swallowed his building rage.
“You know very well that disgracing a lady-in-waiting for her royal highness is a punishable offense.”
“I’m glad to see that Prince Kol has been spared of such punishments.” Damons eyes locked with Elijah’s, “anyway she isn’t a princess yet,” 
Lord Salvatore leaned lazily against the balcony railing his eyes always holding a mocking gleam.
“What do you need?” his patience thin with the upstart noble.
“I’m appalled by your gruffness. I only wish to admire the view.” his voice was perverse it was enough to earn him a threatening look from Lord Elijah.
The cheery laughter below was the only thing that could divert his attention from the smug face of Damon Salvatore. Spinning and leaping gracefully below, Lady Petrova’s danced for her Lady Caroline. Elijah was mesmerized by Katherine’s graceful steps and dainty movement as she seemed to lose herself to a song only she could hear.
“She has quite a skill doesn’t she?” A growing anger burned in Elijah’s stomach at Damon’s remark.
Before he could retort he spotted a familiar faced heading towards the joyful scene. 
“Sister!” Caroline called out in joy stopping in mid-step to curtsy as if remembering herself.
A look of disgust fell on his sister’s face, “Hello, Lady Caroline.”
“How is your day, your highness?” Caroline asked pushing past Katherine to grab Rebekah’s hand. 
“Dull as always.” Her eyes scanning the chipper duchess, “Would you care to take a stroll? 
“I’d be delighted.” She motioned to her ladies once more leading the way with Princess Rebekah on her arm.
He felt a mixture of feelings at the departure of Katherine Petrova but the winning feeling was relief that she was no longer within Damon Salvatore’s leering gaze.
“It’s odd, there isn’t much to see on the eastern wing, just one way to the city walls.” He could hardly hold back the amused look on his face, “Isn’t where the former Queen-” Elijah did not need to hear the rest his feet had taken off before the old snake could finish his false realization.
He ran quickly down the stairway, he could not understand his siblings’ obsession of making the girl miserable. After all, no one in his family was free of their own crimes; each had a stained hand in the bloody aftermath of the noble family. From afar he spotted the group near Aurous Keep he was stunned by his sister’s viciousness, a false smile on her face but cynical look in her eyes was enough of a confession of her intentions.
Caroline hadn’t understood why Princess Rebekah had insisted on the east wing, the battlements, the city wall, and Keep was the only thing to see there.
“I’m sure you know the full history surrounding the Aurous Keep?”
“No, unfortunately, the keep must have been built during my absence.”
Rebekah pursed her lips whether trying to hold back a laugh or smile Caroline did not enjoy not knowing.
“At your time it may have been known as the Beata Keep. Do you want to know why it was changed?”
Uneasiness seemed to pass Princess Rebekah’s ladies something was not right. At the moment she glanced for the briefest of second to Katherine as she played around the small ring on her pinky finger.
“Why yes, yes I would,” she said with a steady voice and a soft smile.
Rebekah velvety laugh did little to shake Caroline’s resolve as she followed the blonde up the steps to the city wall.
“As you may have heard my father’s army was less than a fortnight away from the city gates.” Princess Rebekah this time had linked her arm around Caroline’s arm, a chill running down Caroline’s body, “The late Queen Justine had been going mad since the departure of your uncle, late King Emil, into battle. Many in the castle were worried for her, but mostly for her children’s safety, so in her paranoia, she did the only thing she thought safe. Immurement.”
Rebekah’s fingers dug into Caroline’s arm keeping her close to her side, “She ordered the guards to seal them in Beata keep until the King’s return, but as you know my brother Nik had slain him during the Battle of Stead. Her madness seemed to quicken behind those walls, one guard recalls hearing her shouting for her mother. Once the gates were open my father was quick to locate Queen Justine but what they found,” she gave a haughty laugh and devilish smile to Caroline and the murmuring group of ladies.
Rebekah moved onto the allure of the wall the view of the kingdom and the majesty’s road was breathtaking but Caroline could hardly admire the view as Rebekah pulled her closer to her.
“They found her ghastly white her once luxurious hair of gold matted and wild. Her clothes were covered in her own filth and blood. The smell of the keep was daunting and well,” she chuckled once more, “many of seasoned soldiers could not believe the things they saw. In one corner laid the tiny body of the princess her head bashed in by her mother. In Queen Justine’s bed were the bloated bodies of the young crown princes. For such a heinous crime my father hung her from the castle-“
Rebekah head jostled from the force of the blow, there was a gasp of shock from all that were present. Caroline watched in disbelief as Katherine stood in front of the injured princess her eyes burning. Rebekah cupped her injured cheek the warm feeling of blood flowed slowly in her hands.
“How dare you!” she screeched madly staring wildly at Caroline and Katherine. “I will have your hands for daring to-“
“Rebekah!” Everyone turned to the short of breath noble. Rebekah looked frightened for the briefest of moment.
The gathered ladies knelt in unison their eyes downcast as they cleared the way for Elijah. Katherine exchanged the briefest of look at Elijah before stepping behind him. There was no hiding the fierce anger of his sister but he would not make a spectacle in front of gossiping tongues. Taking her by her forearm they walked further down the walkway.
“I want that bitch’s hands!” her words trembled out with rage as she shot a daggered look to the defiant brunette.
“What are you doing here? Why would you bring Lady Caroline?” he shook his sister with anger.
“You’re mad at me!” she pulled away from him her anger redirected to him, “I did nothing wrong that rabid bitch-“
“Enough! You brought Lady Caroline for some malicious game and you’ve paid the price for it.” He dabbed his sleeve against his sister’s wet cheek, the wound was small but her face had already begun to discolor, “have your ladies take you to my chambers. I will summon a physician to tend to this.”
“I want that girl punished.” She slapped his hand away tears of rage burning in her dark blue eyes.
“We cannot or risk upsetting her mistress.” Rebekah scowled pushing past her brother her eyes burning with unquenched anger.
Caroline stepped back as Rebekah stormed down the stone steps Caroline flashed a condemning glare to Katherine.
“Lady Caroline, I apologize for whatever my-“, Caroline rose her hand finding it harder to control her anger.
“Thank you for showing mercy, my Lord.” Caroline turned away from him making her way down and away from the accursed place.
Katherine remained behind her eyes low and her head down as Elijah stood before her, “I am deeply sorry.”
Elijah tipped her head back his eyes locking with her own eyes, he was somehow always prone to losing himself to their dark pull, her scent was intoxicating and for a moment his rage turned into frustrating control. He scanned her delicate face, her gentle eyes, her pouty lips, and her slender creamy neck that had a silver chain resting around it. An all too familiar silver chain that had once rested on his mother’s neck now adorned itself between the valley of Katherine’s breasts.
It had been her wedding gift from his step-father and it was never far from her even in her final moments she had clutched the metal in her hand as she clung onto it for some strength. Elijah pushed her away far too roughly but he felt betrayed and embarrassed. The sudden realization that the innocence he had seen in her had been all in his mind. This confused and frighten beauty was no better than any of the title seeking wretches that clung to his brother Kol’s attention.
“Excuse me.” It was all he could muster as he hurried away from Katherine.
With Elijah’s hasty departure Katherine stood by herself on the city wall steps Katherine had a terrible feeling of loneliness that she hated admitting to herself.
Katherine dragged her feet as she made her way back to her lady and for good reason; she had acted irrationally to Princess Rebekah’s taunts. Rebekah’s plan had been obvious the moment she had uttered Caroline’s family members’ name. Even with that knowledge, she had felt the rage and disgust that Rebekah had provoked from Caroline. 
 Caroline would certainly be harsh with her for the next few days but she was certain she was not hated by her. Outside her ladies chamber door, she took a deep breath to brace herself for the silent treatment Caroline would surely give her.
Katherine was wrong as she felt the palm of her lady’s hand against her face, the barrage of strikes alternated from subtle blows to head to close-fisted whacks to Katherine’s back.
“I should have you whipped!” Caroline ragged breathing made her words shake, “How could you be so foolish!”
“I do not apologize for defending-” Katherine snapped back as she stumbled away from Caroline’s assault, “-you.”
Katherine stared in stunned disbelief, the ragged breathing had not been Caroline pent up anger but that of a distraught and sobbing friend. Trails of tears came down like a waterfall on Caroline’s face as the stained her cheeks.
Caroline struggled to compose herself, struggled to turn off the anger, the hurt, the fear, that had all come out after Rebekah had been struck. The awkward silence of the on looking ladies had Katherine motioning them out. Taking Caroline in her arms she whispered gently her apology.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered softly.
Caroline’s shoulder shook violently as she let her guard down, despite it being against her better interest, she showed the weakness she had been afraid of others seeing, “I don’t- I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand such viciousness.” her words came out in a jumbled mess.
“You are Caroline. You are.” Katherine reassured as she gently guided Caroline to her bed, “I promise you, you will not break. I’ve seen you survive on nothing but on that strength.”
Easing her lady into bed Katherine spoke softly as unburden her lady of her slippers and loosened the lace on her tight bodice. Katherine stood silently by Caroline’s bedside for a few minutes until she was certain she had fallen to sleep, she could hardly blame her for the emotional exhaustion she felt. Taking a seat by the edge of the bed Katherine watched in silent vigilance of her sleeping mistress.
A/n: Hi guys I’m back with another long, unedited, chapter and I hope you guys could bear with me on these upcoming chapters and I promise that the next chapter there will be more Klaroline. Promise! I hope you guys enjoy it and again please review.
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trekficsandbobs · 7 years ago
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The Captain’s Yeoman (Chapter 4)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise comes face to face with their attacker whether they like it or not.
Pairing: Jim Kirk x OC
Warnings: language
A/n: I completely re-wrote this to make the conclusion a little more exciting and worth the cliff hanger of the last chapter. Hope you all enjoy.
Words: 1,665
 “Evasive manoeuvres Mr Sulu!” Jim yelled over the barrage of blasts which were rocking the Enterprise.
There were two ways this situation could be perceived. One, that the current onslaught was something of a negative. Or two, that at least now there was some variety in the movements of the attacking ship.  
“Report Mr Chekov” Jim barked at the young ensign, who was furiously tapping at the screen in front of him following Sulu’s commands.
“No deck breaches yet Sir, shields holding at 80%, structural integrity 90%” He replied, “It’s almost as if they do not have the capabilities to damage us as much as we are damaging them.” His Russian accent was much stronger under pressure of a combat situation and his usual hyperactive movements were channelled into his calculations.  
It was true, Jim saw, one of the lights had started to flicker and the combined movements of the two ships were becoming more sluggish by the second. The firing had become more erratic and desperate in their attempt to dominate the highly advanced Starship.
“Lieutenant Uhura, I can’t get hold of Engineering I need a channel” Jim called over to her, becoming increasingly more annoyed at the buttons on his Captain’s chair.
“They’re not responding Sir, I can’t see any faults in the system so I’m not sure why it isn’t working.”
Amelia was stood by Jim staring out into the mess of debris and brightly coloured darts of light which pierced the black of space. She had never been on the bridge during a crisis before. Her heart was pounding and her hearing felt muffled as she stared into through the viewing screen. A hand awoke her from her trance. Looking down she realised Jim had been trying to get her attention. His blue eyes cut through the remaining haze and suddenly Amelia was aware of the piercing sounds of the bridge surrounding her.
“I need you to go to Engineering and find a specialist in identifying ship structures, we need to find a weakness” Jim said calmly. He saw that Amelia was in a state of panic, he’d seen that look before on half the bridge crew - even himself. “Then find me someone who can have a go at identifying any cultural markers on the ships.”
“Sir” she nodded, turning to the turbo lift. Upon pressing the button for the required engineering deck she glanced back onto the bridge at Kirk. He was stood now, leaning over a lieutenant in deep discussion.
His eyes met Amelia’s just before the doors slid shut.
An unexpectedly forceful jolt sent Amelia to the floor on her route to engineering. She managed to catch herself before she hit her head on the cold ground, sending a shooting pain through her wrist and up into her elbow. Rolling onto her back, Amelia clutched her arm to her chest, attempting to breathe slowly until the pain had passed. Tears welled up in her eyes, the pain was unbearable.
Get it together she thought as she lay there, you don’t see anyone else feeling sorry for themselves, you have a job to do.
The whistle from her communicator sounded.
“Yeoman, forget what I sent you to do get to the cargo bay. We’ve established contact, they’re on a shuttle to us now. I’ll meet you there.” Jim’s voice sounded through the speaker.
Shit, she thought as she hauled herself onto her feet.
“Fuck” she said as she picked up the remnants of her PADD.
By the time Amelia had located a spare PADD and run to the cargo bay, Jim, Spock, and Uhura were already there. A dozen security officers were milling about the hanger, phasers in hand. The shuttle which contained members of the opposing crew was made of the same metal as its mothership. No windows, lights, or doors could be seen on the exterior. No signs of life could be detected on Mr Spock’s tricorder.
Jim offered her a smile as she rushed into the hanger, stopping to stand a safe and respectable distance from her superiors. Adrenaline had taken over her body on the way down to meet her Captain, but now it was beginning to wear off, the pain throbbing in her forearm, each time more painful than the last. Her breathing was heavy, and the pain was great, but she had to keep it together for just a bit longer.
Suddenly, a burst of air was ejected from the shuttle. A rectangular outline of white light shone, slowly white light began to fill the space until a solid beam of light was streaming out into the cargo bay.
“Fascinating” Spock said from his place next to Kirk.
“I wish they’d turn the damn lights off” Kirk retorted, shielding his eyes from the brilliant light.
A shadowy figure emerged from the new doorway. Amelia observed that no steps had been made from the door, the inhabitants would have to jump six feet to the ground. She was pondering the reasoning for this as the figure appeared to float the distance to the floor. Glancing at Jim she saw she wasn’t the only one a little surprised at this. His eyes were lit up in an almost childlike wonder at the ability of the visitors.
Three figures stood before the congregation. They were tall, maybe seven foot, if Amelia guessed correctly. They were dressed in long, black cloaks, embroidered with silver patterns in delicate thread. The only skin visible was the head. The attending crew of the Enterprise collectively stared with horror. Their skin was grey, they had no hair, no nose, and no mouth. Their eyes were about the same size of a humans, only they were entirely grey. A cloudy, hypnotising grey.
Amelia was fascinated. She stared into the eyes of the first figure, the pain seemingly dissipating from her arm. She felt those eyes boring into her even though they were not turned on her, similar to the effect of the eyes of the ship they had come from.
“I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the U.S.S Enterprise. I represent the United Federation of Planets on a mission of discovery and peace. I am willing to negotiate a cease fire. In exchange, I hope that you will share with us your cultural history for our data archives.” Jim was in Captain Mode. His back was straight, arms slightly outstretched in a demonstration of his trust and good will. Amelia loved watching him in this mode. He was completely and utterly in his comfort zone, he knew how to hold himself to appear none threatening yet strong.
The figures were silent as statues. Not a soul made a sound in the cargo bay, you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the enormous space. The security officers shifted uncomfortably from their positions. Jim, Uhura, and Spock stood with unbreaking glares at the figures, unwilling to break the silence.
Amelia was beginning to feel increasingly uneasy. The grey eyes of the figures seemed to swirl like storm clouds and their silence began to bore into her just as the eyes did. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and heard it in her head.
Don’t look away, she thought, you cannot look away.
A grey hand protruded from the black cloak of the leading figure. It was less a hand and more four long, spindly bones wrapped tightly in grey skin, and it was pointing at Amelia.
Her heartbeat elevated, her head pounded, and the pain in her arm came back at full force. She tried to yell out in pain but she couldn’t move a muscle. She began to feel warm. Warmer than she had ever felt in her life but she felt no sweat dripping from her. Now she knew the eyes were on her although they had appeared not to have moved. Her breathing began to feel constricted, like someone had a hold of her throat. She was aware of the security officers firing at the figures to no avail. She could make out Jim calling her name, whilst Uhura looked on in horror. The world turned dark around her as she lost consciousness.
A storm cloud raged above her. Amelia couldn’t move. She felt lifeless as she stared into the powerful cell above her.
Images began to flash through her head. A city, so bright it rivalled stars; the people were dressed the same as the figures on the Enterprise. Heravic. Their name came easily to her. Figures sat in circles embroidering all manner of things: cloaks, large tapestries, blankets - all with the same patterns as the three on the Enterprise.
The scene began to change, now the city reappeared as a dark and desolate wasteland, the buildings brought low by destruction.
We are all that remain of our people, a voice spoke in her ear, now we search the stars for a new home, a peaceful place where we can die with dignity. Our home was destroyed a long time ago. We had no need for weapons such as yours or theirs. When they came we were not prepared. We were slaughtered in our sleep.
Images of bodies began to swim into view, small bodies clutched tightly to larger ones, some alone.
Who? Amelia asked.
They are long since extinct, and soon so shall we. Do not make them same mistakes as us.
The voice was gone, but the images kept coming. Amelia realised what they were. They were passing their history to her through some sort of dream. The images flashed faster and faster before her eyes until all that remained were two swirling grey eyes.
When she came round, she was lying in the clinical white medbay. Her arm was bandaged and a drip was inserted into the other. A nurse was stood making notes at the end of the bed.
“Mr Spock” Amelia said to the nurse, “I need Mr Spock here now.”
tags: @youre-on-a-starship @feelmyroarrrr @webhoard
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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago
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A Climb Chapter Three
Masterlist
This time Clark isn't going to let you get off with a warning hell bent on giving you a punishment you wont forget... but with you bent over just he couldn't help himself.
Warnings: Adult situations 18+, Spanking, Smut, Daddy kink, Size kink, dirty talk, humiliation
A/n: so been working on this for a while, got a few more things I’m writing atm which should hopefully be finished soon, i do hope you enjoy xx... P.S Its another long boi...sorry xx
dividers by @writeyourmindaway​
Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @magdelen69​ @iloveyouyen​
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A Climb Chapter Three
Clark watched as you made your way across the office coffee in each hand and a paper tucked under your arm. You smiled placing his coffee beside him. It was one week since the whole superman discipline fiasco and you and Clark was officially a couple. He smiled sweetly thanking you then peered uneasy into the cup hoping it wasn't another ginger spice crappy frappie thing.
"What is it today then?" Looking at the frothy milk already pulling a face at it you laughed at his expression then leant on his desk.
"Coconut latte, honestly Clark you haven't even tried it yet, broaden your horizons live a little, you can't just stick to the same boring black coffee every single day... Go on try it its sweet just like you, I promise you'll like it." He scrunched his nose, coconut? In milk and coffee? He looked at you as you sipped your own drink.
"I happen to like black coffee... But you did buy it so I might as well try it...I'd hate for you to waste your money" he said taking a hesitant sip as Lois came over eyeing you both curiously, you mouthed coconut to her and she shook her head.
"You trying to get him on fancy coffee? Not sure if that will work but I admire your efforts" you both watched as Clark hummed and nodded before taking a second sip. You smiled laughing as he refused to put the cup down taking slow drags from it now and then.
"See I told you~" you said in a sing song voice. Then placed the paper down beside you on the desk.
"Soo whats on the agenda for today then girls and boys?" Lois shook her head at your antics, having you around the office was effectively having a child in the building. A fully grown 5ft fuck all fearless, sneaky child, which is exactly why she needed you ,you were to all intents and purposes a fucking ninja...Or at least you should have been.
"Well y/n I was hoping I could steal you from Clark for a while?" You tilted your head at her
"Define a while?"
"Day or two? I need someone who will keep up with me." You mulled it over taking another sip ,that normally meant she was either doing something she shouldn't and needs a photographer she could trust or needed you to do some behind the scenes acrobatic snooping. You ignored the way Clark's eyes wandered over the two of you carefully.
"What's the story?" Her face lit up as you asked
"Got a lead on that chemical leak down by the Lex corp labs, its causing symptoms similar to the victims of nuclear radiation, immunity failure, it hasn't killed anyone...Yet anyway, but there are fourteen people hospitalized and they are trying to white wash it as some industrial strength cleaning solution accident." You tilted your head at her nodding slowly sounds like a major cock up on the lab's part.
"Yep fine, you want me to get my stuff now or-" you was interrupted by Clark placing a hand on your thigh squeezing the strength shocked you as he pinned you to the desk you were seated on.
"No" both you and Lois looked at him and started speaking first
"What? Clark its fine she will be with me" she said you continued
"Yeah it will be okay I'm not even leaving the city this time" he stood still holding your thigh under his heavy palm squeezing it tightly making you wince a little then released it, he moved standing close shielding you from Lois slightly puffing out his chest looking down at you making you gulp a little as your clit tingled at his imposing stance you wet your lips a little. He tilted his head looking sternly at you.
"I said no,Love your not going running in to god knows what. We don't even know what that stuff is?" He added waving his hand around .You grit your teeth and pushed him back a little you and stood at your full height jabbing him in the chest, then shook out your finger as it had hurt.
"Well that's the point of going isn't it you know investigating what it is? Look I know your worried but if they are doing some freaky chemical testing shit then its dangerous! Besides I'm just going to take photos of the facility. Nothing will happen we will be extra careful wont we Lois?"
"Of course we will just photos and statements that's all promise" she backed you up he looked between the two of you and sighed.
"Lois no that place is to dangerous, the things they have there-" he caught himself but Lois didn't click ...Or really listen to him, it was a story. Her story you hesitated.  At his statement sparing Lois a glance.
"Clark people have a right to know if Lex corp are doing Illegal testing!" he grunted ignoring her turning to you pointing at you
"I said no...And I mean it, I'm not playing around you know what will happen if you ignore me, he is still on your tail I will find out" you took a step back at his severe look and reluctantly nodded he was serious, you pivoted to Lois giving a apologetic look.
"Lois ...It does sound a bit iffy...Lets look for another story from Perry" you winked at her discreetly nodding to the elevators she huffed turning in a strop making her way across the office, you sighed as Clark sat down at his desk rolling his eyes.
"Great now shes in a mood"he sighed
"She'll get over it....Thank you for dropping it, I love you" you froze insides twisting with guilt already as he pulled you down to his face giving you a kiss you smiled at him sweetly before looking away towards Lois and grimanced watching her stalk towards the elevators all but crushing the buttons
"I'll go talk to her" he hummed in agreement
"Okay be safe love" looking back to his screen and beginning to type his own article as you made your way to her sneakily still having your bag over your shoulder and quickly made it to the elevator slipping in beside Lois.
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Once outside you sighed walking along side Lois she looked up at you smirking, you both high fived.
"Soo you and Clark huh? Never got the full story on how that finally happen?"You blushed not sure what to say not like you could say superman spanked you like a child for climbing buildings then delivered you to Clark for another scolding.
"We err yeah we argued over something silly and he sort of screamed he loved me, not exactly romantic but that was it" she smiled nodding.
"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest, he has had his eye on your for a while, been telling him for months to ask you out he was to shy." You laughed yes that sounded like him. You did feel a little uncomfortable after all Lois was his ex. She gave you a side glance
"What did he mean back then in the office?" You flushed chuckling
"Oh that who knows with him I mean come on this is Clark hes a bit backwards isn't he?" She couldn't argue there then it got quiet noticing your mood change and sighed she wasn't going to let this cause a rift between you both, she'd been working with you for nearly six years you were friends.
"I don't mind you know, it didn't work out between Clark and I, I wish it had but it just didn't, honestly I knew he liked you after he started working with you,  when we was still together, I could feel it, that's why I ended it... I wasn't the one he truly wanted, I was just the first he opened up to sometimes I think he just felt obligated to be with me but if you hurt him you'll have me on your case you got that?" You nodded smiling at her softly.
"Thank you, I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore that's why I've avoided you a bit." she laughed and pushed you a bit making you weave around a small group of businessmen  then come back to her side.
"Course not don't be stupid, by the way you do know were sneaking in don't you?" You grinned waving your slightly smaller camera
"Why do you think I've got this bad boy? and I brought my new go pro , got this new one better pixels and its more stable just have to change shoes when we get there trainers are in my bag. So what do you think it is? Some poison? Or nuclear type thing?" She hummed
"Always prepared huh? And I'm not certain but it could be a weapon? Apparently Lex corp has been trying to get government contracts for military imports and exports, I think it was a a chemical weapon test gone south."
"Military? Was they approved?" She shook her head stopping beside you
"No it was denied and its the fifth time this year they seem desperate and I think its because they already have weapons and are testing them but technically until they get the contracts what they have been doing is illegal. It could ruin the whole Luthor name, tear down their empire." you followed her to the cab she had waved down both jumping in the back she told the driver the destination.
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It took just over half an hour to reach the labs, as always you had gotten out and walked the last few minutes. you used your cameras zoom using it as binoculars.
"Red, we got a problem. Security and they are packing some serious heat.... But look that's the one right? with the big tube tent thingy?" she huffed hands on hips thinking, you used the time to snap some photos capturing some shots of the armed security, you noticed they gave the sight of the incident a wide birth veering around it on every pass,you cursed as two stopped spotting you, you quickly shifted slightly.
"Pose pose!! quickly!!" she did as she was told holding her hands up and popping her hip out to the side and you snapped another photo you noticed the security shake heads walking away.
"That's it done" she dropped her hands it was a trick you had both developed use Instagram like poses for cover you nodded to the building.
"You go cause a fuss I will use the distraction to get in, if you get turned away go wait where we got out of the cab try to hold out for as long as you can okay? I will be as quick as I can if I'm not out in thirty minutes go home." she looked hesitant as you crouched finishing swapping your shoes for trainers tightening your laces double knotting them tucking the ends in.
"Leave? you want me to leave you there?"
"Yeah don't worry I will get out I always do but if things go south I don't want to worry about you to, no offense but your not as fast as me" you said taking a small  pouch from your bag clipping it to a belt loop on your trousers passing her your satchel tucking your camera in to your pouch then attaching the go pro to your head, it was smaller then your other one and this one saved your live stream to the cloud, so even if you lost dropped or broke it the film was intact.
"Okay if your sure.. Just please be careful I don't think Clark would ever forgive me if you got hurt" you nodded to her
"I'm not going to get hurt now go, wait until I'm at that fence at the bottom" she nodded watching you jog to the very far fence, you turned back looking at her nodding watching as she approached the security gate.
You turned the corner the finding a weak spot in the fence , it was a basic chain link one that you could easily roll up, your guess is they were trying to look unassuming. You didn't bother taking a photo you could pull stills from the go-pro footage. The security cameras moved in slow sweeping motion's across the open space you counted there was a thirty second interval that was clear as they moved, thirty seconds didn't seem much but you would be amazed what you could achieve in that time you planned your route, make it to the large truck parked half way across the concrete then a run jump and wall climb and you’d be on the first roof out of view of the cctv using the electricity box to spring off.
You took a deep breath then moved sliding under the chain link fence and rushed tucking below the truck, taking a deep breath as the adrenaline kicked in, peeking as the cameras rotated then made your move again sprinting and using the electricity box to propel yourself to the roof grunting as you held the edge quickly scrabbling your feet and rolling just in time. Taking a moment you calmed your breathing and got up crouching looking left and right seeing a durable looking gutter, it was close to the edge and you'd be in plain sight for the climb, but Lois was down there being Lois so you was certain no one would see you.
You had to trust she would keep them occupied, grabbing the gutters attachments you planted your feet either side cupping your hands behind the pipe, the trick was to keep a steady rhythm you made the climb breathing steady until you reached the top a little out of breath and stood, no one of ground level would see you from here, this roofs height was almost at three stories. Peering over the top you saw the guards watching as Lois made her way down the side of the fence going to the meeting spot.
You stood back slowly looking around there was a small hatch that looked like a maintenance shaft that would be your entry point then. Walking towards it you pried it open shimmying down inside there was a small ladder and a platform at the bottom attached to a cat walk around the room. You crouched on the platform looking over the huge space. One huge room that looked almost like a warehouse apart from plastic dividers cutting it into smaller cubicles each looked like mini science labs various apparatus and small machines in each then there was a wall with huge glass window inside two massive industrial sized vats at the other end with pipes feeding whatever it was holding into a few smaller canisters, people with full on hazmat suits and bubble masks entered and left via a decontamination chamber as other people walked around transporting the smaller canisters in glass boxes on trolleys taking out your camera you snapped shots of the room the zoom picked up more then your go-pro ever could.
You pointed the camera zooming on various items you did a slow walk round getting close ups of the activity in and around the place, most of the stuff looked.... Medical? For some reason, vials and syringes and drip feeders that type of stuff. Finally you found what you was looking for zooming in on a large board that has diagrams all across it depicting the vats and smaller containers, but couldn't make out any writing. Sighing you crouched speed walking down the cat walk finding a spot with a better view from here you could work out what it says....Theralizumab (tgn1412) what the fuck was that? A drug or something? For some reason it sounded familiar but you couldn't place it. You leaned closer taking more photos of the table beside it all showing different scientific calculations and symbols then quietly spelt the main name out loud for your go pro as a back up.
You froze and crouched lower as a gun wielding guard came in  Through a side door looking around talking on the phone as he made for the stairs across from you. Shit. You had to get out, deciding to call it quits you retraced your steps. Once you made it to the ladder you quickly climbed it making it to the roof safe and sound, you peaked over the to where the groups of guards had been but they were scattered about patrolling again you swore. Things are definitely turning south. You must have spent longer looking around than you thought. You took a deep breath before slipping down the gutter aiming to leave the way you came. As if things couldn't get worse the truck was gone. You would be spotted before you got out hearing a voice from above your stomach dropped quickly you dived against the wall.
"There’s no one here, yes I've looked , nothing on the cat walk or roof.... Jerry is just seeing things...... well he's been paranoid since the explosion.... yes well he should suck it up think himself lucky......pfft that's what he's saying he wasn't anywhere near it to be hit with this shit......no point, looking at what it did to those in England they will probably be dead in a few days, wouldn't surprise me if he let em to cover up........ I will check now yes alright be down in a minute." You held your breath as you heard the foot steps moving closer your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. He would see you. He would see you and shoot you and you'd die, because he would shoot you and you'd be dead. You panicked looking for somewhere to hide as he got closer to the edge.
"Fuck! Show me your hands!" He shouted you rolled away and made a break for it as he fumbled with his gun aiming it at you firing. He missed hitting the roof by your feet making the gravel spray up hitting your ankles making you hiss,your heart skipped a beat as you closed your eyes ducking and screaming diving in a zigzag towards the edge with every intention of throwing your self off it was only one story hopefully you’d make it. You flinched hearing him run down the length of the building you held your breath waiting to feel a spray of bullets  as you neared the edge. But there wasn't any. just a sudden gust of air a warmth at your back you flinched closing your eyes fearing the worst as someone grabbed your waist quickly tugging you towards them, then they seemed to jump your feet left the ground and you grabbed at the arm in shock opening your eyes the saw a flick of red before closing them again as you was lurched through the air at speed landing seconds later a few blocks away at ground level next to a sheepish looking Lois.
"Lois? Wha-" before you could finish you was spun around your wrist was held in a tight grip coming face to face with the man of steel and for the first time you was happy to see him, before you could think you hugged him shaking from fear and adrenaline he sighed tucking an arm around you patting your back as the shock of what happened washed over you in nauseating waves. A few tears escaped, you were shot at, you could have died.
"Fuck ,thank you, thank you so much , if you hadn’t- I'd be....I thought I was a goner" he sighed ruffling your hair holding you as you shook, no matter how angry he was he couldn't help take a few moments to help settle you down rubbing your back slowly as you sobbed quietly you were so frightened.
"Shh it's okay...I've got you...your okay" you cried into him missing the looks shared over your head between him and Lois. She looked guilty, and he was fucking pissed. Eventually you calmed down enough for him to get through to you and he pulled you back at arms length, you tried wriggling away wiping your eyes and sniffing back your last whimpers, he growled when you tried twisting away. Oh hell no.
He wasn't letting you get away from him not after that major fuck up moving his hand he gripped you by the scruff of your shirt. You flinched and snapped your gaze up. Oh shit. His face was set in a deep frown, jaw twitching. He was angry, furious. Double shit.
"What have I told you?! About doing stupid things like that?!" He shook you a bit by your shirt making you wince closing your eyes pretending he wasn't there.
"Don’t you pretend to ignore me!" He wasn’t playing ball and instead captured your chin in his other hand.
"Y/n what did I say?...Look at me when I'm talking to you....Right now or so help me god!....That’s better....Was last time not enough To deter you?" Your eyes bulged as you used your hands to cover your back end. Lois raised an eyebrow at your reaction going to ask but was silenced with a look from Clark, he wasn't happy with either of them. He trusted her! Trusted you to both do the right thing, the safe thing and leave this story alone, at that point he wasn't sure who he was more angry at. Lois for encouraging you, or you for actually going through with it!.
"No! I mean yes! I don't know!! it was work their doing something bad!! like really reeaallly bad! I'm sorry please don't!" He growled
"Sorry isn't good enough!!" you squeaked at him trying to twist from him but he juts locked a hand on one of your biceps makeing to spin you around.
"No! don't nononono! please not here pleaseplease, I get it I'll be good, I wont make a fuss just not infront of her please!" you begged and he clenched his jaw looking from you to Lois who was confused by your desperate display
"y/n wha?" she didn't get to finish as her question was answered as you was spun round to face her yelping and thrashing as he moved landed a harsh smack you your lower thigh making you cry out trying to tuck yourself away from him moving your free hand around trying to cover yourself flushing in humiliation as Lois' jaw dropped. You moved your hand across yourself trying to save your ass but he just worked around it with ease ,finally having enough he switched his grip capturing both wrists behind you as you tried spinning back round and dodging at the same time tears already falling from the harsh impacts of his hand all but branding your ass.
"No nonono stop! I'm sorry I'm sorry please
""You want me to drop your jeans? No? Well stop wriggling then!.... You are unbelievable!...Three times! This makes t hree times now I've had to Intervene! I thought your last spanking would have knocked some sense into you Young lady! But then again Clark let you get away with it last time didn't he?" You cried as this time he had put more force behind each swing leaving a much deeper burn then last time tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing as he carried on. He meant it.
"Im sorry ple-please stoooop" he continued letting you feel his displeasure at you landing heavier blows you could tell he wanted to strike you harder in the way his hand trembled with each impact, the rougher treatment and scolding made you soak your panties almost instantly, the humiliation of Lois watching may have had something to do with it as well.  You flushed in humiliation happy that you was in black jeans, had you been in anything else he and Lois would have seen your shame. You wriggled yelping between sobs as he bruised your back side adding five more in quick succession then stopped. It had felt like a life time but in reality was only a minute two at most. You hiccuped rubbing your eyes as he stood there still glareing at you before huffing.
"What am I going to do with you? Is this going to be a weekly occurrence now?" You sniffed trying to compose yourself shaking your head. No. He released your wrists but you didn't pull away wiping your nose on your sleeve feeling humiliated, belittled and most dreadfully of all aroused. You flushed a deep red hanging your head in shame, god knows what Lois must think watching you get man handled like that, watching you be reduced to tears in seconds.
"I don't need to tell you how stupid that was do I?" You whined and shook your head again at him, feeling his eyes boring into your head.
"And you can rest assured that the only reason I'm letting you off so lightly is because I'm letting your boyfriend deal with you this time! I'm very disappointed in you, I don't think he will be very happy I doubt he let you come out here, did he know?" you hung your head somehow Hearing him say he's disappointed in you almost felt as bad as his spanking and you didn't know why, you shivered at the thought of Clark finding out.
"Well?" He probed Lois gave him a look, you didn't know yet? but then by that display she hardly thought you spent a lot of time facing him, by the looks of it you spent your time across his knee.
"No, well maybe, he knew we wanted to but we said we wouldn't...." he sighed at you
"Well he will be finding out" you panicked shaking your head
"No! don’t tell him! I know I did wrong but he will be so angry!!" He ignored you fixing you both with a firm gaze.
"You will both drop the story, we are already on it and don't need people panicking over it, your leads dried up am I clear?" You heard Lois agree still stunned by what she had just witnessed he tugged your head up to face him seeing nothing but a blur through your tears.
"Y/n I said am I clear?" You nodded before answering weakly without thinking
"Yes sir" mortified as the words slipped out before you could catch them
"Good now off you go...Back to your office both of you" he said releasing you ,you quickly made your way past him hissing as your tender muscles pulled, they was already bruising. You moved scampering quicker as he left you with one last parting smack on your rear as you scuttled past him to embarrassed to look up as Lois walked by your side quietly you flinched as you heard him take off the echoing sound as he broke the sound barrier, knowing he was going to go tell on you. Lois closed the gap resting her hand on your arm lightly as you sniffled she held out your bag for you, you took it quietly.
"A-are you okay?" You nodded a little
"Yeah just embarrassed I never wanted anyone to see that, you probably think I'm stupid" she smiled a little
"I'll admit I've never seen him do anything like that before, sounds like you have tho" you sucked in a deep breath as your bottom stung and throbbed you could just feel the ache of a bruise now forming.
"Yer tha-thats the second time, first was longer but that was worse.... way worse and now I'm gonna have to face Clark, hes going to spank me to,I don't think I can handle two, but if I don't go then I will be in worse trouble." You trembled a little
"So Clark spanks you to?" She asked realizing you didn't know yet. You nodded then shook your head
"No, yes I mean not yet but only cos of how red my ass was when I got to his apartment... Superman found me climbing he caught me and spanked me then sent me to Clark... That’s when we argued and got together weird huh?" She shook her head.
"Not really, He loves you the thought of loosing you could be the thing that broke the camels back....Still tho I feel sorry for you.....More so your ass I mean neither of them are weak by any means.... And I doubt your behaving" you groaned as she chuckled
"Hey come on let me have that one, I mean you just got spanked back there then I find out that your letting both of them spank you?"you scoffed
"Let? you try wriggling away see how far you get! , Superman's a nosy prick who can fuck right off" you shouted up at the sky hoping the bastard could hear you then heard the familiar sound of him roaming the sky. You froze looking to the sky cautiously and gulped, he was still about.
"...Shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that! Lets go before he comes back I don't want another round" you said trying to make your way out of he area asap quickly regretting shouting at him. Lois smiled, you were going to be so pissed off when you find out, but she kept that to her self.
"... You think he was bluffing, like superman can't really go to the office can he? like there'd be to many questions? That suit is so tight I doubt he has a pocket for a phone....right?" she hissed through her teeth seeing where you were going.
"Well I couldn't say, but I don't think you can keep it from Clark. I mean their close....really close two peas in a pod"
"No shit I realized that when they both had the same views on domestic discipline, it was that cape wearing asshat who gave Clark the idea" she blinked you really had no idea.
"If you want my advice tell him the truth because when he finds out and he will, he will be angry that you broke in and hurt that you lied to him" you sighed
"Your right I suppose, best to get it over with....Could you keep this a secret? Please in all honesty I'd rather you forget the whole thing.." she smiled nodding
"It goes without saying, but I promise I wont tell a soul.... If the league are on this tho we should leave it." You blinked at her
"What? Do my ears deceive me or is Lois Lane, THE Lois lane dropping a story?" You gaped at her she nodded.
"From the way he said it...He was serious... Whatever is in there is dangerous and we should leave this one... You nearly got shot over it, in Metropolis! If they are willing to risk that type of law suit then its big business in there....And no offense but I'm not really itching for a trip over someone's knee anytime soon." you scoffed but nodded she was probably right.
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You kept up small talk on the way back Lois was trying to get your mind off of the inevitable and it worked. It wasn't until you reached the daily planet that your stomach tied in knots. Once you was in the office you felt Clark’s eyes on you before he came over engulfing you in a hug tucking your face in the crook of his neck as you began shaking again. He kissed the side of your head.
"You went there didn't you?" You nodded sniffling he heaved a deep sigh
"You stupid stupid girl, are you hurt? What happened? I know something happened from the minute you walked in" you fumbled with your words a little going to brush him off but a look from Lois quickly made you change your mind.
"I broke in..... And got spotted and I was shot at....A tiny bit....Like teeny weeny bit shot at" He quickly pulled you away his face set firm as he stared at you.
"S-superman saved me and then he well..... You know..." you flushed but he simple blinked at you
"He what?" You groaned and nodded behind you he fixed you with a look and grasped your ass squeezing you hissed stepping on tip toes trying to wriggle away from his hand.
"Oh so he gave you another spanking?" He said still applying pressure to your tender warm cheeks, you nodded hissing at him still trying to escape.
"Yes! and he did it in front of Lois even when I begged him not to! Claarrk! Stoop it hurts!" You whined at him he only sighed shaking his head at you giving you a severe look making you feel even more sorry for yourself.
"Good its definitely what you deserve and you can expect another when we leave today, I specifically told you not to go there. What was you thinking?"
"Kent is everything alright?" You both turned looking at Perry you nodded but Clark shook his head
"Y/n isn't really feeling well" Perry nodded regarding you
"She does look a flushed... Probably best you take a half day y/n" you nodded at him thanking him, thinking this the perfect time to escape your unimpressed boyfriend.
"I will to if that’s alright? I've already handed in my article today and I can look after her god knows someone needs to, she's to stubborn to do it herself" Clark asked Perry, he nodded knowing even feeling unwell you’d probably go home and work anyway.
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Twenty minutes of awkward silence later you both arrived at his apartment. He was angry. But it was an eerie calm anger. He dropped his keys and bag taking your bag from you then kicked his shoes off you did the same unable to take the silence anymore
"Clark I'm sorry, I really am I didn't intend to be spotted" he sighed
"No one ever intends to get caught.But that’s no excuse... I told you not to go! Fuck I didn't say that for fun I said it because I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt, I was worried when I didn't see you in the office and I just hoped you listened, trying to kid myself that you had found another safe story to do. I was terrified all I could do was wait for you to return or to receive a phone call from A hospital or-or police department and I was worried for good reason you was shot at! Shot y/n!" You quivered as he scolded you, as frightening as the huge man was angry you couldn't help the way your core twitched watching him, the tingling of your clit returning as he ran a hand through his hair messing it up.
He stopped and pointed a finger at you.
"It was a dumb thing to do and no matter how bruised your ass is this time I'm adding to it !" You shrunk as he walked past you deeper into the living room. Sitting on the sofa.
"You cant be serious...Claarrk! He has already done it! And in front on Lois No...I’m not having it!" He tilted his head casting a glance over his glasses as you stomped at him, he sighed.
"And I'm not having you running around god knows where getting yourself in trouble being fucking shot at! Come here....Now" he said quietly you gulped as his voice got deeper shaking your head stepping back a few steps. He leaned forward pulling him self off the seat and in four quick strides he was in front of you dragging you forward before him.
You fought him feet dragging on the floor ,cursing his large form as he over powered you ushering you around the sofa to the side then paused. He settled for leaning towards you pinning you between him and the arm of the sofa moving his hands forward he popped the button on your jeans batting at your hands leaving sharp slaps to them as you resisted and tried to fight him trying to hold them up. He quickly halted your efforts making you whine at him tugging them down making you squeak flushing as he peeled them down you held his shoulders as he wrestled your legs out of them. You stood back still trying to wriggle free
"No..Please don’t Clark!" You protested all of your bravado failing yet again as you were placed bare ass over the sofa waiting for what was promising to be a very uncomfortable spanking. Clark smirked noting that your protests sounded more like a panicked little girl who didn’t think her daddy was serious as you soon found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa one of his hands at the curve of your spine holding you down.
"How can you still be so bratty with an ass this red? Hmm? This time he wasn't thorough enough, I will fix that!" You cringed as he moved his hand across your two glowing cheeks pressing his hands in letting you feel how hot and swollen you was,  you moved yours back to him trying to shield your already hot cheeks. You whined pitifully as he moved them in front of you
"Keep these up here!" You nodded finally giving into him as he moved to stand at an angle quickly connecting his hand making you claw at his sofa cushions trying to inch yourself forward, but it was no use he had you tucked securely against the arm not leaving you anywhere to go. you yelped as he raise his hand again making sure to hit the pinkest part of your cheeks, you kicked out whining at him. He chuckled it was cute your feeble struggles as he popped you on your sore red bottom again and again sending you into a full blown paddy.
"CLARK!PLEASE STOP!" he tilted around to meet your gaze seeing your bright red face. He stuck out his bottom lip at you mirroring your pout.
"Aww poor y/n is it already sore?" You nodded sniffling feeling completely humiliated already.
"Well then maybe you should start doing as your told." He finished his statement with a firm slap that rippled across your ass, you wailed fidgeting clawing at the sofa cushion beneath you as he continued to spank your ass and thighs. Your toes curled into the carpet below you as his hot palm landed again and again each time in a slightly different place slowly working in rounds across your bottom. It wasn't long before the pain truly set in, a deep burn building on your already smarting cheeks that made you truly feel small and naughty, ashamed of yourself for being naughty and ending up in this position.
You cried true tears as he move lower to a more sensitive spot cupping his hand on impact making the sting almost sweet as the jolt went straight to your aching clit making you throb with need. Fat tears rolled down your face as he moved you higher stretching out your cheeks giving him easy access to the crease of your thighs that Superman couldn't reach earlier.
"NOO! Clark pl-please sto-op I'm sorry OWW NO! I wont do it again! Please!" He huffed at you as you choked out the words around sobs that wracked your body jolting when you heard the quicker stinging slaps echo through the room, moving your hands back trying to cover yourself tho you wasn't sure if it was to shield your ass or hide your drenched pussy.
He had already spotted it, he growled capturing both wrists pinning them to your back as he smelt you, some of your juices was already clinging to his fingertips where he had spanked a little lower then necessary, it gave him an idea he knew that he couldn't continue on your ass for much longer.
"I hope so! Do you know just how worried I was! You little BRAT! Your so lucky that I wasn't there had I been I wouldn't have left your jeans up in front of Lois you can be damn sure of that!" You whined not really sure how he new you hadn't been spanked bare by the man of steels but you couldn't dwell on it as he moved again pressing a hand to the top of your cheeks digging his blunt fingers into the darkened flesh making you whine pitifully at him to stop through your tears.
”You.will.never.disobey.me.like.that.again!...do you understand me?" you nodded weakly as he emphasized each word with harder and harder spanks on the crease of your bottom making it just as bright as the rest of your ass. Finally you felt him pull away and you sighed still sobbing your heart out, half in pain the other humiliation at how your body had reacted to him.
You twisted trying to cross your legs as you felt your arousal drip down your thighs in long embarrassing streams and yelped when he kicked out your ankles wider and moved to peel back your lips taking a long look at your wanting core, chuckling when he saw how you clenched longingly, wanting to be stuffed full. He sighed as you tried to fight him.
"Oh no you don’t let daddy see..." you whined pressing your face into the cushion hissing and bucking into his hand as he ran a fingertip up and down your slit.
"Oh god! Dont LOOK! STOOPP!"  You were silenced with a all be it lighter spank straight on your revealed clit making you screech that broke of into a moan then another and another you clenched on each strike, his spanks on your pussy pushing you closer and closer to a trembling orgasm he stopped just shy of your release making you heave deep breaths.
He tutted at you leaving his hand wedged between the two pink lips rubbing across you harshly in an up and down motion.
"Oh sweet baby~ don’t tell me your were going to cum on my palm as I spanked your naughty little pussy?" You groaned as he moved his hand dipping two wide fingers into you leaving your mouth agape as he scissored them, he concentrated on your high pitched sounds and the way your pussy began clenching and suckling.
"Oh you were weren't you? So so ready for me hmm? Just a needy little girl~" You shivered and moaned trying to grind on his fingers as the brushed your walls massaging them just right you gasped when he began fucking you faster and harder onto his fingers them held them still buried deep to the knuckles curling them.
You jolted as he hit that spot, the smooth patch of nerves that will finally finish you off the edge.
"Is this all you wanted baby? Such a naughty baby~ You were acting out so daddy would bring you home and punish you? Maybe that what I should do, punish my needy little girls cunt, fuck her until shes a very sore very sorry little girl" As he spoke he was watching listening to your heart rate the way you struggled to breath you were close, his dirty talk seemed to do the trick , he could feel your body clenching as he called you his naughty baby. He quickly and cruelly pulled away at the last second laughing when your little pussy tried holding on to him as he withdrew his fingers he watched the pleasure fade and become annoyance you really had been just about to cum.
"Poor baby~" his voice was condescending, belittling  and it made your knees shake. He was sexy just being his normal shy farmboy self but here and now he seemed like a totally different animal! The confidence and raw power he had over you was...It was breathtaking and arousing...definitely not what you expected from the man. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed, he somehow knew you wanted a daddy, to spank and fuck you into behaving, the thoughts of the huge man taming you left you a mess beneath him.
Your protest was immediate you moved side to side letting your thighs rub at your swollen lips trying desperately to trap your clit between them. Your voice hoarse from begging and pleading with him
"I NOO! CL-CLARK PLEASE I WANT!-" he shut you up with another spank to your pussy making you gasp and widen your legs craving any sort of contact.
"Huh? I’m sorry You what? You might have to speak louder so I can hear you?" You turned resting the side of your face on the sofa looked at him tears still streaming slowly down your face.
"I-I want to cum! Please Clark please I want you to fuck me! Spank me again, just I-I want you to do something PLEASE DADDY! " he tilted his head and sighed looking at you from the top of his eyes enjoying the little game. Reveling in the fact you'd acknowledged him as your daddy; your dom your one and only, he felt it in his bones the way you'd given in, falling to his need to dominate you completely.
"Well now is that so?...All I hear is a disobedient little madame demanding things...Well I'm afraid that 'I want' never gets around here.." You whined
"I SAID PLEEAASSEE!"
"And I said no! Not until you beg nicely, until ask me with a pretty please~" closing your eyes, him seeing your arousal from his chastisement is one thing but he wanted you to beg? You flushed and wriggled back. He moved deciding that you needed some encouragement chuckling rubbing a single finger down your slit pinpointing your clit and rubbed harshly for a few breaths then pulled back hovering it just out of your reach. You snapped twisting again to him
."Please daddy~ I'm sorry I was bad, Please let me make it up to you? Let me play with you, make you happy and show you just how sorry I am for being a brat again~" for a moment he wavered wanting to stop this game and fuck you full right there.
He still might. With a grin he leant down over you making sure to let you feel his hard cock he smiled as his teasing worked as you whimpered pitifully pressing back to him.
"Ahh...You want daddy to play with you?....is that it? you want me to finger fuck your needy little pussy until, your just gushing all over me? well baby?" You moaned weakly at his filthy words going bright red and nodded.
"Y-YES PLEASE! FUCK TOUCH ME PLEASE CLARK I CAN'T...I'M SORRY!" Your cry was loud and uneven as you fought to wrestle  your arms free trying to move back against him, to find something to grind on. He moved quickly unable to deny himself anymore the sight of you bent over and red assed and begging for him; for your daddy to fuck you any which way made him snap, it was all the permission he needed.
More tears fell this time in relief as you felt his hand drop to his waist then heard his belt move as he undone it with one hand quickly shucking down his trousers, he wasted no time lining up and with one sharp bone shaking thrust he embedded what felt like 10 inches straight into your quivering heat.
You screamed out but he quickly curbed it as he caught the scruff of your neck and pressed you into the sofa, the movement took your feet completely off the floor leaving them to kick about behind you. Perfect. Now your really did have to endure whatever he threw at you. Had you been able to see him you would have seen an abnormally dark look cross his normally sweet face. You groaned high cringing as he plowed his way into you holding himself deeper then anyone you'd had before.
You gasped finding it hard to breath with him leaning over you pressing your body down into the sofa you tired calling out to him as you began panicking when he pressed your face further into the sofa making you go a little dizzy, thoughts becoming hazy as your airflow was being cut off slowly as he rocked slowly fucking any tiny breaths you took right out of you. Just as you began to panic more he moved his hand moving to twist in your hair pulling your face up. You took deep gasping breaths crying out as he pulled back and rocked his hips into yours, making sure to slap his thighs harshly into your bruised bottom making you groan in slight pain, not that he could really tell with all the moaning you were doing. He wanted to make this a little painful, after all you'd been a bad girl.
He grunted loudly into your ear his breaths huffing past your ear making sure you heard just how good you felt for him. You tried turning to kiss him but he gave a quick shake of your hair.
"OOhh FUCK-YES THAT’S IT ugh ugh no~ your not kis-SHIT NOT YET BABY! fuck not yet no!. No your not kissing daddy only OH MY GOD!Fuuuck! Only good girls get kisses and your a bad baby! Bad babies don’t get kisses!" You whined slumping forward as much as you could pouting, you hissed whining and moaning as he pulled you up by your hair.
"What are you?" You whined shaking your head but he growled shaking you by your hair slightly, you cried out at the sting in your scalp.
"I'M AHH FUCKplease! CLARK! DADDY NONONONO! PLEASE I'M SORRY! I'M A BAD BABY! I'M A VERY BAD BABY!"
"ugh fuck yes! Yes you are and you're going to stay right here and let me fill that little pussy! If your lucky I might let your naughty little cunt cum over my cock... But don’t even think about cumming until I say so." How he managed to talk so evenly whilst fucking you so thoroughly.
You cried out a loud animalistic sound as he moved back before thrusting into you deeper then you thought possible, hitting your cervix with a force you'd never experienced almost winding you. You whined as he battered away at your core your muscles protested weakly to his cocks heavy thrusts stretching around him so tightly, you felt his pulse throbbing away inside of you each time he impaled you on him his veins rubbing at your walls in a pleasantly addictive pace. 
You moaned every nerve in your body was alight arms tensing. He moved you releasing your hair and tucking his hands around your thighs pulling them further apart the action let him bury himself deeper inside of you, taking your breath away as he fucked you roughly , you twitched hissing as his balls slapped against your sore spanked clit making you see stars softly grunting as the abuse on your clit pushed you higher a surge of heat rolling around in your tummy just waiting to let loose. Somehow he knew and began grunting at you.
"Don’t you fucking dare! You hold it or I'm going to fuck your ass to!" You yelled out as he forced himself into your body with renewed vigor leaning down you bit the cushion below you trying to fight off the climax that was seconds away. The stinging heat of your ass was being punished all over again only this time it was his thighs doing the spanking. He tilted you up further your breasts now laying on the sofa cushion as he rutted into you his thrusts sloppy and he moaned louder and louder he was close you could feel him swelling, ready to fill you with his cum, to claim you as his own little fuck toy and ruin you.
"BEG! BEG FOR ME TO FILL YOUR CUNT!" You gasped as he spanked you making your muscled coiled tightly around his cock.
"PLEEAASSEE DADDY PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME! FUCK ME FULL LIKE YOUR LITTLE WHORE! LIKE I’M JUST YOUR TOY PLEASE! DADDY I WANT IT PRETTY PLEASE!" you shouted the words barely having the breath to beg him.
"Fuck yes good girl! Such a good toy for daddy! Now cum that right you can cum on daddy's cock!" You cried in relief letting go trembling as you came over him, arching wildly it was a full body orgasm like you’d never experienced before. You couldn’t even voice your pleasure far to lost in the shivering euphoria.
Your quivering heat sucked him so tightly as you came not even he could continue to hold out roaring as you forced him to cum inside of you, you’d actually milked him! Sucked the cum right out of his balls Forced him to release his cum and drench your insides.
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You both eventually came down from your highs you were still bent over the sofa tears trailing from your eyes tho your really unsure why panting heat going ten to the dozen. He patted your back and pulled himself free gasping and sweaty. He moved around you on unsteady feet and sat near your head he moved pulling you across his lap tucking you into his chest.
You moaned as he moved your tender body across the cushions to him you noticed at some point of his wild punishment fuck he had removed his shirt. You looked up at him smiling giggling slightly smoothing some of your loose hair out of your face. He sighed pressing a firm kiss to your neck then grunted pulling back and removing his slightly fogged glasses placing then on the table. He leaned back staring at you intently you blinked then moaned trying to find a more comfy place the sit wincing as your tender lower half moved against his thick thighs. You pouted as he chuckled running a hand through his hair moving the curls to the side, you froze looking at him.
"W-what? Clark? You look just like...." he froze realizing just what you meant and nodded sighing he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist so you wouldn't run.
"Yes....I-I am I mean" you tilted your head as he unconsciously tried to hide his face
"Your?....YOUR Superman? Its you whos-whos been? You've been saving me? Spanking me?" He nodded weakly unsure if you was angry or not. You looked at him in disbelief moving to cup his face gently when he wouldn't look at you you curled up tucking yourself into his chest hugging him far to exhausted to argue and cuss him out for being a dick. He moved slowly wrapping his other arm around you hugging you rubbing your back.
"I'm sorry....I really am, I don’t know why I do those dangerous things...I just always have...Never had to think about other people before" you felt him nod and kiss your head.
"Well now you do, I was terrified. Am terrified when I see you do those stupid stupid things I'm terrified that one day...One day I wont be fast enough, strong enough to save you....I am not invincible there are things out there that can weaken me and one day I might not be able to save you one day I might not be there to find you" you cringed at just how he said the words he was telling the truth.
"I-I will be better from now on...I will try to stop my adrenaline seeking habits...But it will take time, Ive always been like this." He smiled kissing you deeply.
"I know you will little girl~ but your always going to have me hovering over your shoulder...Maybe I could take you flying? To get your fix?" He chuckled as you remembered your last little flight with him. You shook your head.
"N-no thank you Clark I didn’t like that..." he smirked at you nipping at your ear
"like you’d have a choice baby girl~ I think that’s what I’m going to do from now on when I catch you being naughty, scoop you up and fly you off somewhere for a good old spanking!" You groaned
"Noooo Clark don’t! No more spanking...And someone will seee!" he laughed at your pout and poked your nose watching as you scrunched it at him huffing
."Oh yes little lady spanking is something we are definitely keeping up with you sorely need it,  and don’t worry there are many quiet places I can take you to tan that naughty little bottom!...And now you know you’d best behave at work to~ no more three hour lunch breaks to go see a movie...Yes I know all about that" You flushed and buried your face in his neck whingeing at him yawning, the days events catching up to you. He sighed tightening his hold on you breathing in your scent.
"I love you baby never forget that" you mumbled it back to him tiredly making him smile as you snuggled into him, he had no doubt that tomorrow you’d be mad at him and sulk over going to work with a bruised bottom and the fact that he has been the one spanking you around town. But that was tomorrow and he could deal with it then for now he was content, the truth was now out and it was a huge weight lifted from him and he could rest peacefully knowing you were safe and sound with him.
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jillskoba · 6 years ago
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Audience Studies (3P18) Blog Post #2
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On a dreary Wednesday morning I arrived into Toronto by way of GO train, having spent the last hour driving through moderate traffic on the QEW. I was tired, but still rather excited that day, as I was invited to participate in a live taping of the CTV show The Launch at the CBC. I was not familiar with the series prior to the invitation but found it a great opportunity to look behind the scenes of a professional television production (not to mention an audience experience worth writing about). Through the hustle and bustle of Union Station, I made my way on foot to the CBC with ten minutes to spare. Signing in at the VIP entrance as instructed in my email, I joined the smaller of two lines had been formed earlier, populated mostly by school students from local colleges and high schools (as well as Derek Foster, a familiar face), and eventually we were led to a large red elevator that brought us to the tenth floor. From there we checked our coats and waited in line again, until we were prompted to follow a member of staff who led us through the rather short tour of the main studio and recording area used for The Launch. The main staging area was much smaller than I would have expected for a music competition, but it was explained to us that through the ‘magic of television’ the space would appear much larger on screen. It was a wonderful opportunity to see a television studio in person, as glancing overhead revealed a maze of numbered plugs and light fixtures, individually numbered in the hundreds. We were told that the main studio operated at least six hundred lights for the one production, excluding the set up for the recording area.
After the tour was concluded, we waited again outside of the studio, before being brought in with the rest of the audience members. I was uneasy as I learned we were expected to stand for the duration of the taping, as being flat-footed meant that standing for extended periods of time would cause discomfort and eventual back pain. What surprised me however was that while I had expected to see a much younger audience, the studio was soon populated with many individuals in their more senior years, many of which shared the same unease about standing for so long. Upon our return to the main studio to prepare for filming, several of us were able to request chairs to sit for a good portion of the event. The audience had been segregated into several sections: the general audience stood circled around the stage, with those having requested seating closest to the entrance. Opposite of us was another seating area, reserved for the family of the episode’s performers, and segregated by height was the “I Heart Radio” lounge that the mentors / judges were to be seated for the performances. It took some time before the proceedings finally began, a good half hour after the supposed start time for the taping. We were greeted by the host of the show, as well as another individual who I believe was one of the producers (I cannot recall his name), as he was involved in directing the recording of the events that followed. The entire process of filming the live show took about three hours, between multiple filmed and non-filmed performances, numerous discussions between the judges / mentors, and the several reactionary crowd responses that required recording.
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There were a few interesting points that I learned as things eventually went underway. First, the events of the show are taped out of sequence, with the crowd’s reactionary applause to the performances recorded first. The performance of both contestants was also recorded a total of three different times, with each run focusing on capturing different camera angles, and the crowd instructed again to cheer or withhold at the beginning. The control over audience applause is not an unfamiliar tactic to me however, as I had previously attended a local taping of the CBC program “The Debaters”, and as applause and audience reaction is key to both comedy and competition shows, it made a lot of sense. However, the resulting applause in both scenarios was genuine in its affection. Something else I observed while part of the studio audience was the overall level of affection that the crowd held when the different performers and mentors were presented. While each guest received a favourable reaction from the audience, the appearance of Jann Arden (the season’s celebrity mentor) garnered an eruption of applause from almost everyone in attendance. The last thing I had learned toward the end was that the winner was not selected during the live taping. The discussion between the three mentors was captured after each performance, but no formal announcement was ever made. This could have been in part to ensure that the audience in attendance could not spoil the finale of this competition, and to encourage them to watch the airing when the new season is released.
The role of mass media, as theorized by Dallas W. Smythe (Sullivan, 2013) was that rather than being only part of the larger ideological apparatus of capitalism, it was part of the overlying economic system as well (p. 81). By providing the loyal audience with something to entertain (the media content itself), the attention of the audience itself could become a commodity that could be bought and sold. While the attention of the live audience is not being captured as a commodity in this scenario, the presence of the two-way system is still present. By providing the audience with entertainment (in the form of active participation in production), the audience not only assists in the production of media content but become delayed consumers as well. Individuals attending a live show taping are likely to watch the episode if they believe they will see themselves on it, and encourage those they know to watch as well, as a form of boast or moment of pride. The time spent watching the program becomes commodified for broadcasters to sell to advertisers in the form of blocks of commercial space during program breaks, and with the increase in viewership and attention gained by using the participants, the viewership for those product placements theoretically increases. However, Canadian-based media products have notable difficulty in competing against their larger American counterparts, as the industry surrounding media production in the United States easily dwarves the Canadian media industry. The strain between a limited audience (in the form of a smaller population) and cross-border competition places Canadian products like The Launch under stress to maximize profitability. In the case of this reality music competition, The Launch reaches out to its own consumers for support, and to help assist in constructing a home-grown audience by focusing on local Canadian talent, rather than the more global outreach that American broadcasts can extend to. It is in this more direct relationship between audiences and content producers that shows such as The Launch can find success in its niche.
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While there is a nearly endless array of options when choosing media products to interact with, there is almost always an underlying factor in an individual’s decision-making process. With the traditional uses and gratifications approach, Sullivan (2013) states that the emphasis should be placed on “how and why individuals use the media rather than considering the ways in which they are acted upon by outside forces” (p. 108). However, it is Sundar and Lumperos (2013) who specify that the technological features of the media consumed are of little impact to a user’s gratification (p. 506). While a reality television show may be portrayed as realistic, the world that structures it is entirely fabricated, as it is a production of what is an often a for-profit media company. Initially I questioned why then there would still be an attraction to participate in a reality show that, from the audience’s perspective, is far from real. What I hypothesize is that in the case of The Launch and other shows like it, the pleasure for reality does not come from the portrayal of realism within the fabricated television world, but rather the emotional connection drawn between the audience and the competitors. Reality television promises an idea that anyone can be a participant, that those on screen are just like those watching from home. Within the live sphere, this connection is only strengthened as what was once an image on a screen is now in the flesh, with audiences forming a stronger association with the portrayed reality. My theory is further supported by witnessing the question and answer segment that the mentors held with the crowd after the completion of the taping. From within the live audience were quite a few people, whom I had heard among one another and expressing to the mentors their interest in auditioning for the next season. What those audience members had witnessed was a portrayal of their own dreams live and right before them, transcending the medium of television and making reality seem more real.
It is important to remember that expectations of an audience are hard to theorize without knowing the dominant mode of reception used. This was especially true in my case, as I do not consider myself a normal consumer of reality television media in any way. Instead I often avoid such programming like the plague, as I find little entertainment in their attempts to portray a heavily artificial reality as “real”. It is likely that I engaged with the audience experience in a mediated mode, recognizing the “text as a media production” (Michelle, 2007, p. 203) by focusing on the constructed nature of the program rather than the intended message. This interpretation of the events before me pulled my focus from the story that was being told, and instead paying more attention to the means of production, including the lighting setup, the multiple types of cameras used throughout the filming process, and the order in which events were filmed. While my attention was elsewhere, the remainder of the audience would have engaged with the production as transparent, the perception of “text as life” (Michelle, 2007, p. 195) and allowing themselves to be absorbed by the events. Michelle (2007) notes that in the case of nonfiction programs like reality programming, the consumer assumes that the depicted events and persons are reflective of the real world, which relies on the acceptance of its reflection by most of the audience (p. 196). As mentioned earlier, there is a distinct likelihood that the audience makes use of the experience to imagine themselves in the shoes of the competitors and become a famous musician. Through this perceived fantasy, audience members are willing to accept the reflection of reality that the program provides, even when it exists simultaneously their own lives.
While the production of The Launch does not make me any more likely to go out and begin watching reality television, it does give me a bit of newfound respect for the work and effort that goes into a production of its kind. The out of sequence recordings remind me of the basics techniques of creating film, in which recorded images are woven together to create a sense of space and time on screen, in an order that without context may seem entirely arbitrary. The decision to record performances three times still seems excessive to me, though given the size of the studio and the amount of space required to maneuver, it adds to the impressive nature of the production. The recording of duplicate performances for example is done to obtain footage at different angles, requiring more work with a greater effect. The resulting footage will eventually be spliced together to create a series of shots that will flow in a visually pleasing way. All of this effort is done by the production company without the conscious recognition by the viewer of the amount of effort required to capture every angle or ensure the sound and image from three separate performances are synced seamlessly. Overall the experience was another great addition to the experience of observing audiences. Though I found myself unable to identify with the audience I was a part of (realizing as well how little taste in music I really have), it required me to reflect on topics from the last few weeks to gain deeper insight into how audiences engage with texts and media.
 References
Michelle, C. (2007). Modes of Reception: A Consolidated Analytical Framework. Communication Review, 10(3), 181–222. https://doi.org.proxy.library.brocku.ca/10.1080/10714420701528057
Sullivan, J. L. (2013). Media audiences: Effects, users, institutions, and power. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Sundar, S., & Limperos, A. (2013). Uses and grats 2.0: New gratifications for new media. Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 57(4), 504-25.
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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 8 years ago
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Behind the scenes of James Comey’s epic firing
Washington (CNN)A little past 5 p.m. on Tuesday, a black Ford Taurus slowed to a stop just outside FBI headquarters in Washington and dispatched a white-haired man in a dark suit.
He emerged from the car alone, a manila folder in his right hand, and walked slowly toward the agency's appointment gate. Passersby paid little notice.
But Keith Schiller, President Donald Trump's pugnacious former bodyguard who now sits sentry outside the Oval Office doors, was at the law enforcement agency armed with a bombshell message from his longtime boss to FBI Director James Comey: "You are hereby terminated and removed from office."
Schiller emerged from the building just short of an hour later, the manila folder gone. By then, the stunning intent of his visit to the FBI was known, and the ramifications of a sitting president firing the man investigating his campaign's ties to Russia were reverberating across Washington.
This account of the lead-up and the aftermath of Trump's decision is based on interviews with more than two dozen officials at the White House, the Justice Department, the FBI and on Capitol Hill, nearly all of whom spoke anonymously to describe an extraordinarilysensitive moment for Trump and his presidency.
Toobin: Firing Comey grotesque abuse of power
Backlash begins
Backlash was swift, with claims from Democrats that Trump was ridding himself of an investigator who was delving too deeply into ties between his associates and Russia. Even some Republicans, including the chairman of the Senate intelligence committee, said they were troubled by the development and its timing. Comparisons to Richard Nixon, who fired a special prosecutor probing the Watergate burglary, began flying.
The White House insisted the firing came amid questions about Comey's handing of a probe into former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's email server. But that explanation was betrayed by Trump's letter, which didn't mention those concerns, focusing instead on the continuing inquiry into his campaign's Russia ties.
Officials in the West Wing, many of whom weren't aware Trump was planning to fire Comey, appeared caught off guard by the furor.
The collective recoil against the move prompted urgent meetings among Trump's aides to manage the fallout. Hours after telling reporters that the White House would have no additional comment beyond Trump's own words, top aides were marched to television cameras on the North Lawn to explain the decision.
One source familiar with the President's reaction to TV coverage of the Comey firing told CNN that Trump was upset because he perceived that nobody was defending him on the cable networks. So he dispatched top communications aides Sean Spicer, Kellyanne Conway and Sarah Huckabee Sanders to appear on television to defend the White House, the source said.
Spicer, sandwiched in the dark between a gaggle of reporters and a large shrub on the White House driveway, described Trump's decision as arriving only after a long memo from the deputy attorney general, which Spicer said was delivered Tuesday, detailing Comey's shortcomings on investigating Clinton's emails.
But multiple White House officials said Trump had been considering firing Comey for at least a week before he made Tuesday's decision. Indeed, Trump revealed his anger in a string of late-night messages on Twitter May 2, exactly a week before his final decision was made public.
"FBI Director Comey was the best thing that ever happened to Hillary Clinton in that he gave her a free pass for many bad deeds!" he wrote from the confines of his second-floor private residence at the White House. "The phony Trump/Russia story was an excuse used by the Democrats as justification for losing the election. Perhaps Trump just ran a great campaign?"
Who is James Comey?
Closely held decision
The idea of firing Comey was closely held within the West Wing, these officials say, where the few aides who were aware of Trump's intentions barely discussed the topic among themselves. Among those looped in: Attorney General Jeff Sessions and Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein, who began fine-tuning their rationale for removing Comey from his post shortly after learning of Trump's intentions.
On Tuesday, they had their explanation: Comey mishandled the investigation into Clinton's emails.
"I cannot defend the director's handling of the conclusion of the investigation of Secretary Clinton's emails," Rosenstein wrote in a letter that the White House released Tuesday. "I do not understand his refusal to accept the nearly universal judgment that he was mistaken."
By the time the memo was complete, Trump was already preparing to execute his decision. His schedule was almost entirely cleared on Monday and Tuesday except for meetings with his national security team. Nearly as soon as Comey's firing was announced, Trump was meeting in the Oval Office with Andrew McCabe, the FBI deputy director, to gauge the agency's No. 2 before elevating him to acting director following Comey's dismissal.
Meanwhile, back at FBI headquarters, news was quickly spreading that Comey was being ushered out. Instead of delivering Trump's letter to Comey in person, Schiller deposited the document at his office. Comey, in fact, wasn't at his agency's headquarters at all when Schiller arrived with the missive from the President; he was addressing agents at the FBI's Los Angeles field office when news came down that Trump had demanded his resignation.
Instead of learning from Trump's letter that he was being fired, Comey found out from television. TVs set to cable news inside the room he was speaking began airing reports of his demise midway through his speech. He made a joke about it to lighten the situation, phoned back to FBI headquarters, and received official confirmation that his tenure atop the law enforcement agency was over.
Trump fires FBI Director James Comey
'I have no reason to believe ...'
Senior Justice Department and FBI officials speaking Tuesday said they were unaware that Trump was preparing to fire Comey, describing themselves afterward as shocked by the development.
Asked hours before announcing the decision whether Trump maintained confidence in Comey, Spicer avoided answered forthrightly.
"I have no reason to believe -- I haven't asked him," Spicer said. "I have not asked the President since the last time we spoke about this."
The decision came at an uneasy moment for the Justice Department, which has been at the center of controversy since Trump assumed office in January. Officials described tensions that have festered over the past several months between Justice Department leadership and senior staff at the FBI over the handling of the Clinton investigation and how Comey was running the agency, according to multiple officials.
Meanwhile, the White House and Sessions have pushed the FBI to pursue leaks of classified information to the media, according to one Justice Department official, urging the agency to prioritize the probe over other matters, including the investigation into Russian election meddling.
One Justice official suggested there could be more changes coming at the FBI beyond Comey's removal.
"There is a lot of cleaning house that needs to be done," one official said.
Federal prosecutors have issued grand jury subpoenas to associates of former National Security Advisor Michael Flynn seeking business records, as part of the ongoing probe of Russian meddling in last year's election, according to people familiar with the matter. CNN learned of the subpoenas hours before Trump fired Comey.
Fallon calling for special counsel at DOJ
Shock and confusion
While a handful of top senators were given a heads-up by Trump, the overwhelming sentiment on Capitol Hill was one of shock and confusion.
In some GOP offices, there was an open question of how exactly to respond, with communications staffers reaching out to their colleagues to try and unify their initial draft statements. Without advance notice or guidance from the White House at the start, many offices were stuck in a holding pattern, according to several aides for Republican senators.
For several senators, including some on the Senate judiciary or intelligence committees that oversee the FBI, it was news alerts on their mobile phones or reporters in hallways who broke the news of Comey's removal.
Sen. Marco Rubio, a Florida Republican, was presiding over the Senate when the news hit.
"Basically, the parliamentarian told me," Rubio told reporters as he walked off the Senate floor. "I don't have any initial reaction because I don't have any information."
Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Texas, never shy about expressing his views on an issue, emerged from another senator's office to tell reporters he would be withholding judgments until he had a better handle on what had just occurred.
Sen. John Cornyn, the No. 2 Senate Republican and a member of the intelligence committee, told reporters he was "surprised" by the firing, and wasn't given a heads-up by the White House.
For Senate Democrats, it was a more straightforward process. Within 20 minutes, statement after statement began rolling out of Democrats questioning Trump's motives -- and using the firing to try and spark new momentum for a special prosecutor or independent commission to look into Russia's meddling in the 2016 election.
For members of the House, currently out on recess, it was a scramble by their top staffers to try and get in touch and even brief them on the news. Some lawmakers are out of the country. Others were just about to walk into town halls. Many senior staffers had already departed for the evening by the time the news broke.
"This is a shitshow," one GOP aide said in a text message.
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