#oswald cobblepot's foot

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

Totally normal Gotham fanfic question 😂

What would Oswald Cobblepot's injuries look like?

•his ankle aka his foot 👀 (totally normal thing to ask)

•his knee (that was hit by Fish with a baseball bat)

•the later bullet wound on his stomach (which I assume was healed in an unconventional way)

If you have any pictures (maybe some injuires are shown in seasons I haven't watched yet 🤔) or medically based theories (they don't have to be detailed, just how much would still be visible), it would be pretty helpful because researching such things has led me to some pictures I didn't want to see 😆

I'm thinking of writing a comforting body worship kinda fanfic in the future but I'm sure the answer to this could help a lot of Gotham writers 😊

Update: a helpful description and a scene from a season I havn't watched yet

[cowchickenbeefpork]

You know, I was thinking about a more comic accurate appearance to Sofia falcone and how it would relate back to Jim since jim is how she is introduced in the story really and he also has sexual ties with her in this verison of the Batman mythos and uh.

I realized that if she was more buff and “ugly” like her comic appearance then their relationship would be similar to Jim and Oswald’s in a way because Jim is getting bossed around by someone he doesn’t not agree with and does not fit neatly into traditional genders but he has to work with because they’re a necessary evil. If we’re going to make her act like Oswald in a way, why not go futher? Why not keep the detail that she’s feminine a wrong way? It would connect her further with Oswald in the narrative and would bring a whole criminals being non conformist in gender thing that Gotham and Batman media in general loves to use.

Also, her being less traditionally feminine in appearance like she is in the comics could also be a tactic used for manipulation for Oswald since she could use how she looks and how it has affected her in her life in order to make Oswald think maybe he can trust her since she has experienced things similar to what he has gone through. She’s trying to replace the hole Edward left in order to destroy Oswald, so wouldn’t making her be non conformist in a way similar to Oswald is in one area make it easier for her to get closer to him since Edward fulfilled that role before? She knows he’s craving for connection from someone like him, so wouldn’t making her look more like her comic form make manipulating him into thinking she actually cares for him slightly more easy?

Nevertheless, Gotham is too sexist to not cast a conventionally attractive women for every major female role so we’ll never see this kind of shit….sigh…….HER BEING LESS TRADITIONALLY FEMININE LIKE SHE IS IN THE COMICS WOULD'VE BEEN SO INTERESTING FOR THIS SHOW!!! IMAGINE HER OWNING THE FACT SHES DIFFERENT DESPITE HOW IT MAKES OTHERS AROUND HER UNCOMFORTABLE!!!! AUGHHHH!!!!

[batbabydaily]

detective comics #58: one of the most perfect frame-ups

[radiance1]

The GIW succeeded in passing an under the radar law that described ghosts as non-sentient beings. Leading to the Government cracking down on Amity Park and capturing any ghosts they saw.

Danny saved who he could, telling them not to come back to Amity Park for their own safety. That being said, he couldn't save everyone, not as Phantom and especially not as Fenton.

He didn't like to think on it much.

Thankfully it seemed that Halfas had it a bit better than pure ghosts, being seen as semi-sentient due to their human half. But it still wasn't enough for his parents to think he was safe in Amity, so instead of staying in Amity Park they decided to move him.

Which proved to be a far faster process than they thought it would be, because his identity was leaked to the government, as for how they knew? They overheard Wes Weston trying to convince someone of his theory and ran with it.

So now Danny and Jazz had to be quickly relocated to Gotham, and yes, they love you Danny, but with his track record they need Jazz to act as an assurance he wouldn't go out 'heroing' and stay on the down low.

Jack and Maddie stayed behind to negotiate the Anti-Ecto acts.

Jack told the two of them to meet at this specific coffee shop in Gotham, because he already asked for someone he knew to come and pick them up, which confused them because who would he know in Gotham?

But, on the way to said coffee shop, Danny and Cujo (who Danny brought along because he was not leaving him behind in Amity of all places now.) was kidnapped by a giant crocodile man.

Right under Jazz's nose too. She only realized when she reached said coffee shop, safe to say she wasn't pleased. The coffee shop seemed to be entirely booked by one man, with multiple people acting as 'guards' so to speak, not that Jazz couldn't take care of them but she preferred to avoid violence if she could.

The person she and Danny were supposed to meet turned out to be one Oswald Cobblepot, otherwise known as the Penguin, a black sheep of the Fentinightingles and Jack's friend. (I CANNOT for the LIFE of me remember where I saw this idea, but if you ever come across this post know that YOU yes YOU were the one who helped the crafting of this idea)

Oswald: Where's the other one.

Jazz: A giant crocodile kidnapped him.

Oswald: Say what.

Meanwhile Danny got himself comfortable in the sewers of Gotham with Cujo as he stared up at a 9 foot tall man who goes by Killer Croc, who looks increasingly unsure, regretful and sorrowful of his decision to kidnap Danny.

Danny finds out that his actual name is Waylon Jones, and that the sole reason he was kidnapped was because he thought him to be his long-lost dead brother.

Danny: Oh so you're my dead uncle!

Waylon: Say what now-

[acapelladitty]

Oswald Cobblepot/Reader - Teasing 💖🐧

Summary: A commission for the absolutely lovely @nygmanotnashton in which Oswald Cobblepot finds himself on the receiving end of some fun teasing.

A surprisingly warm late afternoon had forced a full retreat to Ozzie's office as it was one of the few areas within the Iceberg Lounge to possess enough tasteful luxuries to make the suspicious heat seem bearable.

As always, Ozzie had immediately taken up residence in his favourite chair, more of a throne really, while you settled yourself comfortably against the solid oak desk, perched with your legs hanging off the side to block the stack of drawers which were built-in to the furniture.

Ozzie's thick fingers move with surprising dexterity as he taps away on his phone with a casual pace. A soft silence hangs in the air as you split your attention between your hanging legs, bouncing off the small brass handles of each drawer, and the uncomfortable way in which your shirt is clinging to your sweat-slicked back. The evening plans were long set and a gentle rumble in your stomach sparked a fresh excitement for the restaurant which Ozzie had booked for you both.

An Italian with a four month advance in bookings.

Well, four months to anyone who wasn’t Oswald Cobblepot and his plus one.

"You're quiet." Ozzie mutters, catching your attention with a quick nudge of your leg.

Looking up, you met his gaze and the questioning look there forces a small smile to tug at your lips as you pick up on his unspoken concern.

"I'm just thinking, Oz." You answer, tapping the heel of your foot against the wood. "Nothing too fun or exciting."

"What would it take to make my pretty bird sing then?" He hummed in response, running his finger along your clothed knee until his palm enclosed the joint to rub at it gently. "A new foreign car? Some expensive trinkets? Or should I say, more expensive trinkets? How about a full inch?"

"Only an inch?" You cut in quickly while your body shifts, ghosting your shoe along the bulge in his slacks as you tease him with a sudden playfulness. "Now i’m worried. What happened to the rest of it?"

Ozzie’s laughter is easy and open, his large chest shaking with the effort as he fixes you with a heated glance.

"Keep your foot there and you'll be seeing it sooner than you think, dear."

He leans forward and makes to reach for the drawers which are hidden behind your legs. Sensing another opportunity for some fun, you spread your legs for him to reach between, rather than moving them off to the side. A salacious move which nets you another small chuckle as he presses his knuckles to the inside of your thigh before pulling free the middle drawer.

Unable to see what he's doing, you instead allow your eyes to wander past him to the extravagant fish tank which sits behind his desk. Fish of many colours and sizes flutter around the water with the casualness of creatures that know they're well fed and taken care of.

A feeling you know well, and one which makes a goofy smile tug at your mouth as you drop your eyes to Ozzie once more and lean forward enough to run a gentle finger along the back of his exposed neck.

"You're trying to kill me today." He growls, shuddering at the soft touch. His neck had always been particularly sensitive, and you exploited that fact with unrivalled joy.

Leaning back, his thick body filling his chair like the king he were, thick fingers produced a stack of crisp, neat bills which were wrapped together by a straining rubber band; the heft of the bills easily sitting at over an inch wide as he quickly thumbed through the money to ensure it was all there.

"Would this be enough?" A teasing smile touched at Ozzie's thin lips, the edges curling upwards as he held the stack of money out.

"Hmm," you pretend to think it over for dramatic effect, "I could probably buy something nice to wear out for dinner and then something even nicer for you to rip off after."

Reaching for the money, you find it snatched away in an instant.

"Hey-"

"Nothing for nothing, my darling."

"Ozzie, please. You don't have to-"

"Nothing for nothing." He repeats, the words gruff yet bordering on a sing-song quality as he reclines in his chair even further.

Grumbling playfully as you were forced from your comfortable perch, you join him on his chair - carefully placing your knees on either side of his bulging frame as you lean gently against his expansive chest.

Catching his lips in your own, he tastes of red wine and you groan into his mouth as he reacts to you immediately; wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you in place as he enjoys the messy kiss. His presence envelops you and you bite at his lower lip until you pull away to catch your breath a little.

"Maybe I should treat you to something nice. I think the King of Gotham deserves a little something for being so kind and generous to a poor little waif like me."

"Poor little waif." He repeats with a squawking guffaw. "You're too cruel for such a title. Besides, don't waste my money on me. Treat yourself and show the world that Oswald Cobbelpot knows how to keep his little bird sweet."

Dropping your hand to his crotch, you roughly cup at the heft of his bulge through his slacks.

"I wasn't talking about money." You growl into his ear and a satisfying delight washes through your overheated body as he visibly shivers in response to your unspoken promise of a much more physical treat later in the evening

[navree]

the penguin show apparently making oswald cobblepot (i'm not calling him fucking oz not a chance) a monster along with reeves saying that riddler and the flood at the end of the movie was gonna be the "birth" of the supervillain, we will be seeing a joker who tortures a four foot six ninety pound fifteen year old boy out of nothing more than a desire to see him suffer, trust!

[eggcompany]

Neighbors to Fucking

Someone new moves in next door to the Cobblepots. Oswald just hopes their better than the loud downstairs neighbors. Luckily for him it's someone sweet, hot, and very bold int what he wants. One thing leads to another and suddenly Oswald's standing in his binder tell Ed he wants everything the other boy can give him.

“Mother, I think someone’s moving in next door! Do you care if I go see?” Oswald called to his mother as he pulled on his maroon sweater. 

“Of course baby, be careful though. Might be some hussy coming to try and take you away! My very handsome baby boy!” Mrs. Kapelput said and pinched at Oswald’s soft cheeks. Her boy smiled and pulled away. 

“I know mother, I’ll be okay. See you later.” Oswald said as he fixed his sleeves and took a glance at himself in a small mirror. 

He opened the door and poked his head out. There were only two apartments on this floor. Theirs and one more. It had been empty for a while. 

Perhaps though someone cool was moving in. 

Hopefully someone quiet. 

The people below them were loud. Talking, stomping, bad music, rude language, loud sex. It was dreadful. Horribly dreadful. 

Oswald was always quiet and light on his feet. He’d been told a quiet child was a good child when he was a toddler by his babysitter. It had stuck with him. 

He snuck out to the hallway, absentmindedly squishing his bottom lip between his teeth. 

The door was open a crack and a box was set outside of it. Oswald ventured closer to it to heard some commotion inside the room. He peaked to see if he could see but then the door was wide open and a disheveled looking boy was standing in it. 

Oswald was surprised but couldn’t take his eyes away from the beautiful brown eyes, neat brown hair , void of a few loose strands, high sharp cheekbones, the boy was taller than him by at least half a foot. All slim and sharp and neat and pointy. 

Finally the other boy finished looking at Oswald in the same way and smiled and stuck out his hand. A sparkly perfectly paper white smile, all straight and amazing…

“Edward Nygma, nice to meet you.” Oswald smiled and shook his warm tanned hand. A very nice hand, strong and warm, and oh his heart was on fire.

“Oswe- Oswald Cobblepot, I live in the other apartment with my mother. It’s been a while since we’ve had a new neighbor.” Oswald struggled, face painted a deep red at both the fact lord pretty boy very pretty boy and that he nearly screwed up his own name. 

Edward stood there smiling down at him for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. Oswald came back to himself and huffed a breath and recovered. 

“Do your parents live here too or…?” Oswald asked nervously as he twiddled with his cuffs. 

“Oh no I moved out by myself. I’m apprenticing at the GCPD.” The burnette chuckled out, he found it amusing that the boy thought he was younger. 

“Oh… how old are you? I’ve gotta be older than you.” Oswald said and put a hand on his hip. There was no way Edward was older than him. His laugh kinda got under Oswald’s skin too, it made him want to sass. 

“I’m twenty.” Edward stated and Oswald just shook his head. 

“No” Oswald stated. 

“Um… yes I turned twenty a while ago actually. Why? How old are you?” Edward asked, curious about the shorter boy. He was an odd duck. Looked like an odd duck, spoke like an odd duck too. 

“Nineteen. You look like a baby! You’re like twelve, you're just tall.” The black haired boy teased and looked the other up and down. 

“You are the baby though. It’s only a year though… I bet we can hang out or something. If you wanna get outta your place you can help me unpack if you like.” Edward offered. He had only met some of the men who worked in the GCPD. No one his age, no one half as cute as the other boy. Plus he had a lot of stuff to unpack.

“Oh yes! Sounds fun, I like being nosy.” Oswald said giddy as he hopped gently on his good leg. 

-0-0-0-

“Can you play it again? I was almost asleep.” Oswald jokes from the other boy's couch. Ed was so good at playing the piano. He loved to come over after dinner and listen to him practice. 

The smooth rhythm always lulled him into a near sleep, he’d never slept over anywhere other than his own house but Edward’s lovely playing on the old piano always got him nearly there. 

“If you want you can sleep over here. We could watch a movie or something?” Ed offered from where he was stretching his arms above his head. He liked hanging out with the other boy. He was cool, knew a lot about odd stuff, was good to talk to, and yeah it was nice having such a cute guy around. Especially one who gave such nice hugs. 

Edward was sort of sleepy himself. He’d made a pretty filling dinner and he’d walked all over the city during the day. A movie and a sleepover seemed like a great way to end the day. 

Ed turned to see Oswald pulling his shoes back on and nervously backing toward the door. 

“Oh I’m actually- I have stuff to do tonight actually so I better get going actually. Bye Ed!” Oswald said in a hurry and slammed the door behind him, leaving the brunette in a bit of a shock. 

“Oh alright. Bye Ozzie see you tomorrow” Edward said to the backside of the door. Well… he could always watch a movie by himself. 

But as he watched some stupid old gangster movie with his old blanket wrapped around just himself he realized he sort of… craved the other boy’s presence. 

-0-0-0-

“I want to kiss you.” Ed said and looked at Oswald who was sitting in the chair. Oswald coughed choking on air and looked over at Ed and his perfect posture and sculpted arms. 

It was a warm day, too warm, scorching really. Ed’s terrible air conditioning barely kept it below baking in the small apartment so they were in the Cobblepot residence. Oswald had only slightly better air conditioning and had his standing fan. 

They were dressed in only slightly above skimpy clothes. Since Mrs. Kapelput was out, Ed was dressed in his plain white undershirt and his boxer shorts adorned with small green and black stripes. Oswald tried not to oogle but he’d given up. Edward was very pretty. Strong, lean, tan, handsome, manly… very nice on the eyes. 

Oswald himself was wearing his own boxer briefs, dark purple with black elastic at the top, and a three sizes too big t-shirt with a penguin embroidered on the breast. 

“What!” Oswald croaked, his face turning to a burning red, and Ed patted the seat next to him. As if it was just an offer to share a soda. 

“Kissing. I want to kiss you.” Oswald stared at him with his mouth open a bit and his eyes wide but moved to sit in the spot Ed had patted. It was as if his feet moved on their own, his heart racing and his mind blank. 

“I like you Ozzie, I think you’re pretty, I want to kiss you. Do you want to kiss me?” Edward asked with a light hint of amusement in his voice. 

Oswald got a sick feeling in his stomach and he nervously pushed his arm against his side where his binder dug into his squishy side. 

“Just a little one, a little kiss” Edward coaxed and brought his hand up to the side of Oswald’s face, cradling his warm cheek. 

“Okay” Oswald breathed and let his eyes close as Edward leaned in. 

-0-0-0-

“Can we kiss again tomorrow?” Oswald asked dreamily as he held Edward’s hand by the door. Edward leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“We can kiss every time you come over. We could do more than kissing too.” Ed whispered into the other’s ear which just made Oswald blush a cherry red and turn towards his own door. 

“Oh um… kissing you is good.” Oswald mumbled and walked back to his own door, leaving the older boy to get ready for work. Definity not because he was getting ideas about… more than kissing . Definitely not. 

-0-0-0-

“Ed, Ed, quit.” Oswald struggled to pull away from his boyfriend's warm body. His lips and teeth felt so so good but were just getting too low on his collarbones. 

Ed pulled back with a disappointed look and looked up at his boyfriend who sat so perfectly in his lap. Oz was just so soft and warm and that ass … fucking plush . 

He was plush all over. Covered in the gentle scent of baby powder and plain shampoo he used. And the small whimpers and pants he let out only drive Edward closer and closer to tearing his jeans off. 

“Too much baby?” Ed asked and rubbed his thumbs on the others hips, bones covered by a perfect layer of pudge. He didn’t want it to be too much. It wasn’t nearly enough for Ed. He wanted more. Needed more. 

“I just it’s-“ Is all Oswald could get out before tears started rolling down his face. He wanted Ed so bad. His thighs were sticky with how much he needed Ed. 

Ed pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek. Salty tears sticking to his lips when he pulled back. 

“It’s okay, we don’t have to. You know I love doing this too.” Ed said in a smooth loving way and Oswald just shook his head and whimpered out a-

“I want to” and Ed just rubbed his back and hummed. Vibrating up through his chest to Oswald’s, like salve on a burn, Oswald just sniffled. 

“I want to also. But I don’t wanna see you cry. Well at least not like this.” Edward said with just a hint of innuendo at the end as he nuzzled into Oswald’s cheek. 

The black haired boy wiped at his face and almost chuckled to himself. 

“I just like you so much” He said and let the scent of Ed’s kiwi body wash float up into his nose. It always seemed to calm him down. 

“I like you too.” Ed said and let himself trace up the side of Oswald’s pale neck, teeth grabbing onto skin every so often creating little marks in their wake. 

“Would you like me if I wasn’t a boy?” Oswald whispered so quietly Edward barely even caught the anxiety riddled question. He pulled back and looked into the denim blue eyes of the other. 

“I’d like you if you were a cat… but I’d rather not have sex with a cat.” Edward tried to ease the other boy’s palpable anxiety. 

-0-0-0-

“You take off yours first.” Oswald said and watched Edward smoothly pull his plain white t-shirt up over his head to reveal his tanned slightly toned body. Beautiful tanned toned muscular manly body with a light trail of brown hair leading down his pants and a deep v-line basically begging to lead somewhere down below his jeans…

“Well that’s not fair.” Oswald said and looked down at his own soft tummy covered by his black button up and dark purple sweater. He never specifically felt bad about his body in that way but ugh… he could never compare. 

Ed smiled and unbuttoned his black slacks.

“Will it be fair if these come off too?” He said and started to push them down over his ass. 

Oz nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, watching Ed push them down over his thighs and kick them off when they pooled on the floor. He was only wearing a pair of green boxer briefs. 

Long slender tanned legs, a few small scars on knees and a longer one across his thigh. 

Beautiful.

Ed flexed a bit and turned to show off his body. Smooth, tan, muscular, perky ass, and noticeable bulge making Oswald feel even more inferior. 

“Fair enough to get a peek at you now?” Ed asked and moved to stand in front of the fully dressed boy. Oswald swallowed and conceded. Barely able to keep his eyes above his collarbones. 

“Just… ugh I hate you” Oswald said and Ed snickered as he watched Oswald pull off his sweater then hesitate on the buttons of his shirt. 

Ed stepped up to him and kissed him, slowly and warmly, lovingly , grabbing his pale clammy hands and moving them to his own sides. 

“It’s alright. Wanna feel your skin on mine.” Ed said and Oswald could barely breathe as he felt the dips and curves of Ed’s body, all the way to the paths leading down to his soft short happy trail. 

Ed was so warm, strong feeling, sturdy, his breathing was even and his heart was beating steady and true, it nearly made Oswald dizzy. Ed was everything . 

Ed kissed him gently and thumbed open the top two buttons and moved to suck a mark on Oswald’s shoulder. Until he got stopped by a strap and then he simply moved to the other side and thumbed open the rest of the buttons. 

Ed stepped back with a kiss to the shorter man’s lips. Noticing Oswald was trembling, tears lazily running down his face, he looked like he was holding himself there by sheer willpower. Like he wanted to run away. 

Oswald stood there, shirt open exposing his soft porcelain pale belly and purple binding top. 

“Adorable” Ed said before pulling Oswald chest to chest with him and kissing him deeply again, their tongues mingling together. Their mouths tinged with the taste of salt from the short boy’s tears but was soon chased away with the iron whisper of blood as Edward sucked harshly at Oswald's bottom lip as he pulled away. 

“Can I take it off Ozzie? It’s not safe to keep those on during such… strenuous activities.” Edward asked and ran his fingers along the bottom band of the binder, noting in his mind that it was indeed far too tight and far too worn. A proper new one would have to arrive in the mail soon. 

He was lost in thought he nearly missed his boyfriend’s whispered question. 

“Am I still a good boyfriend?” Oswald asked in such a serious way it nearly hurt Ed’s head to hear. 

“’Course” Ed whispered back and looked into the ocean blue eyes that were still red rimmed. Oswald swallowed, audibly, and nodded, pulling a brave face. 

“Go ahead.” Oswald said and relaxed his arms, allowing Edward to pull the bottom of the binder up and over his head and over his arms. 

Oswald closed his eyes, looking as though he was anticipating a slap to the face or worse. 

“The best boyfriend,” Ed said, kissing Oswald’s eyelids. The shorter boy gasped, his lips falling open a bit at the gentle touch. 

“Most handsome” he said and kissed down the side of Oswald’s neck, hands laying on his hips. Gripping only so gently, squeezing just to feel the warm flesh between his fingers. 

“Brilliant” Ed said and kissed down the other’s collarbones and toward the center of his chest. Ed was bending down on his knees, one small drop and he could be face to face with the treasure hidden under Oswald’s black jeans. 

However Oswald’s trembling hands on his shoulders drew him back to stand. 

“And all mine” Edward said and pulled Oswald toward him and kissed him deeply. 

Their chests met and Oswald gasped as his tender nipples grazed across Ed’s torso. He whined and almost whimpered at the way his breasts squished against Ed’s flat stomach. 

Oswald wasn’t… well he was. He was busty . He hated it ever since he started developing breasts. They were big and heavy and in the way and made his shoulders hurt and made bra straps dig into him and he just hated it. He hated them even more when he figured out he was a boy. They were like neon signs saying he was born a female. 

However, Edward was like a dream. 

Nearly E cups and Ed was ignoring them. He rather let his hands run up and down Oswald’s back, warming trails under them, down the dip to his waist, where his whole body pinched in in a rather feminine way, and to grab a handful of ass. Oswald jumped when Ed’s hand creeped into his back pocket to grab his ass. 

However he was getting lost in the way Ed’s hands were traveling across his body, the way they were pressed together, the way Ed was fucking moving and grinding against him. 

When he moved again to kiss at Oswald’s ear and suck on his earlobe. 

“Are you okay with it?” Oswald whispered, needing reassurance as his thighs became sticky and his body burned alive with need. He couldn’t even help that he rocked his hips up with the rhythm Ed had set. 

“What’re you okay with?” Ed asked and pulled back from where he was mouthing and biting, to give Oswald another deep kiss. He moved his hands back up to cradle Oswald’s face. 

“I dunno… want you to- to touch me. Wanna take my pants off” Oswald said quietly and Ed chuckled. 

He let his hands move to lay under Oswald’s breasts. Heat practically radiated from them, begging to be played with and held. Oswald looked down at Ed’s hands, and back up to his eyes a few times in confusion and shock. Rosy faced and kiss swollen lips causing Ed’s cock to throb in his underwear. 

“Ozzie, do you want me to touch these?” Ed asked, fire in his tone. 

“Yes” The other boy breathed out and Ed was on him again. His hands gently cupping his breasts and thumbing at his nipples. Oswald winced and Ed pulled back only a bit. 

“Tender, um the binder it makes them tender.” Oswald explained breathlessly and Ed nodded and kissed him a few more times before moving to take a knee in front of him. Ed kissed around his slightly fuzzy stomach as he unbuttoned and unzipped his dark jeans. 

He yanked them roughly down off Oswald’s pale legs, loving the way his thighs jiggled with the motion, the way his lavender briefs were discolored with wetness, the way his scent was so intoxicating Ed barely noticed his hair was being pulled. 

“ Yes , please Ed, just, ah, just touch me. Touch me there.” Oswald begged as he gripped the brunette's gel wet hair. Ed bit into one of those plush thighs and hummed. 

“Bed, bed and I’ll make you really cry.” Ed practically growled out and Oswald let out a high whine and pulled at Edward, his hair, his shoulders, his hips, until they were kissing again. 

Then Ed was pulling Oswald forward as he took steps back until Oswald was breathless from kissing and being spun around and laid flat on the bed. 

“Say you want it, say you want me, tell me what I can give you” Edward panted from the foot of the bed. He was burning up. 

His cock was straining against his underwear as he stared down at his beautiful boyfriend laid out and wanton. Oswald was… more beautiful than anyone else Edward had ever been with or had ever even seen. His blushing pale skin was lightly dusted in barley there freckles, traveling from his cheekbones down over his shoulders and few adorned the top crest of his breast where they laid against his rapidly rising and falling chest, each breath making them move like waves, his pink nipples pointed and hard in the cool apartment air, his belly begging to be nibbled at, caressed, and at the precipice of his tender plush thighs where his briefs laid low on his hips, the wet fabric clung to the delicate skin underneath. Ed salivated at the sight of Oswald’s folds under the thin fabric. 

Oswald didn’t know what to say, what to do, he was melting and freezing all at once, gripping at Ed’s soft worn sheets. He’d never let anyone see him like this, let one touch him. It was… Ed. 

Ed was everything. 

“Everything, Ed. I want you to give me everything.” Oswald finally begged and watched as Ed grinned and climbed onto the bed like a cat. He was hovering over Oswald, letting their noses caress for a moment. 

“Ozzie, I can’t hold myself back anymore. You’re killing me.” Edward said in a near begging voice and let one hand grab at the other’s underwear. 

His mind was rolling, twisting and bending all at once. He was made of need. His cock was taking over his brain, it was terrifying. 

And exciting. 

Oswald was nodding and let his own hands push at the offensive green fabric of Edward’s underwear. 

“Yes, yes, off, off ” Oswald moaned out and finally let himself be okay with what was happening. He was going to have sex with Ed. 

“What a good boy” Ed whispered into Oswald’s ear before sitting back on his heels to pull both their underwear off. Kicking his own off the bed. 

Fuck… Oswald was somewhere else when that left Ed’s lips. Some other planet. Somewhere where his cock was throbbing and Ed was the only other thing that ever existed. 

And he didn’t come back to actual Earth until Ed was cradling his weak, melted body against his own panting chest whispering in Oswald’s ear. 

“Eddie…” Oswald whispered in a thick fog of wondrous pleasurable afterglow. 

“Hey, my love, are you okay? Are you awake now?” Ed asked and rubbed his hands across Oswald’s belly. The short boy hummed and rolled onto his side to nuzzle into Ed’s chest. He then realized three things. 

He was wearing a pair of underwear that were absolutely his own. 

He was wearing a shirt that was absolutely not his own. 

His insides fucking hurt. 

“Eddie, ugh, hurts” Oswald whined and pushed at his own stomach, low over where his cervix was bruised and slightly bleeding. The small mark in his underwear later would confirm that, yeah, Edward made him bleed. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Was I too rough? You just sounded so… oh , so beautiful.” Ed said and rubbed his hands across Oswald’s back covered in one of Ed’s own oversized sleep shirts. Oswald just whined and felt very very tired. 

“Wanna sleep Eddie. Wanna snuggle.” Oswald said in a whiney nearly childish voice and shoved himself harder into Ed’s body. 

Ed just hummed and relaxed back onto the bed, letting Oswald lay half on top of him. He’d fucked Oswald till the other boy had actually cried so no wonder Ozzie was so tired. He’d cum at least twice with Ed’s cock buried inside him and the brunette playing with his small cock. 

-0-0-0-

[halfdent]

❝   𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 ?   Well  lets  see  if  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐍  thinks  yer  tellin'  the  truth  ,  heh  ?  ❞  He  would  at  least  still  know  how  to  contact  the  slippery  bitch  ,  again  ,  they  didn't  need  to  decide  on  that  .  Their  talisman  does  .  With  thumb  grazing  the  index  they  send  the  silver  piece  soaring  through  the  air  .  Catching  it  .  The  asymmetrical  eyes  of  the  gruesomely  split  visage  anticipates  as  palm  blooms  open  to  reveal  ...

A  smirk  and  a  low  chuckle  ,  wheezing  air  between  their  open-split  jaw  . 

❝   Coin  says  yer  𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑  .  ❞  And  with  that  the  brunt  of  their  tommy  gun  collides  with  the  pointed  nose  of  the  one  facing  judgement  .  He  didn't  want  Penguin  dead  .  Not  yet  .  They  wanted  answers  . 

Fish  used  to  run  circles  with  the  Falcone  Crime  Family  .  Had  she  still  been  with  them  last  year  he  is  certain  Holiday  would  have  killed  her  Recent  activity  implies  that  the  crime  family  straggler  knows  about  the  true  identity  of  Holiday  and  -  huh  -  well  neither  of  them  can  let  her  live  for  that  .  Can't  afford  it  .  Gilda  Dent's  freedom  and  safety  was  paramount  .

Foot  on  one  side  of  Cobblepots  skull  while  the  knee  joins  it  he  gets  down  enough  to  lean  in towards  the  ear  .  Another  voice  finds  its  wake , this  one  far  more  soft  and  broken  yet  precise  while  the  other  had  spoken  in  a  distinguishable  growl  .

❝  Say  you're  telling  the  truth  ,  you  still  have  information  𝐖𝐄  want  .  We  know  you're  a    𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞  𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡  here  ,  Oswald ,  but  you  have  to  catch  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞  𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡  ;  throw  them  back  or  use  them  for  bait  .  Either  way  we  need  you  to  cooperate  .  Seeing  as  you  no  longer  report  to  Mooney  maybe  you  won't  mind  giving  us  what  we  want  ,  freely  ?  Make  this  easier  on  yourself  .  I'm  no  killer  but  𝐇𝐄  is .  ❞

◖ @gothpeng  /𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃: "i don't report to fish mooney anymore! you want to tell her something, do it yourself." / 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 / 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 .

[beelze-bruh]

Oswald Czesiek Cobblepot

Alias, The Penguin

Born with a form of Seckel Syndrome (or "bird-headed dwarfism" as it's sometimes referred to as) and Syndactyly on his left foot, Oswald Cobblepot has struggled with adversity his entire life, be it mockery of his distinct features or the discomfort of his webbed foot that's resulted in his waddle-like limp. His family life wasn't much better, though wealthy and privileged in many ways. He and his older siblings lived under the thumb of abusive parents, Francine and Tucker, who were allegedly involved in Gotham's criminal underworld. Oswald was underestimated since his birth, not expected to survive more than a year. Oswald did survive however, outperforming doctors most optimistic predictions and progressing intellectually at an excessive rate, even developing an eidetic memory. His alcoholic mother resented his survival and treated him condescendingly at best while his father payed him little mind, preferring to ignore his existence altogether and focus on grooming his elder siblings for the family business. According to libelous conspiracy theory, Oswald was ambitious to take what he believed should be his, and he allegedly manipulated and murdered his way to the top, starting with his brothers and first bullies Erik and Gerald. After the mysterious deaths of several other relatives making up the Cobblepot family hierarchy, Tucker was found shot several times in their family dining room while Francine layed drowned in a bathtub upstairs. Despite his many legal troubles and the profane rumors surrounding his ascension to power, Oswald Cobblepot stands as one of the most wealthy and influential men in the country, operating from his famous club The Iceberg Lounge. Whether you view him as a gentlemanly entrepreneur whose overcome a history of pain and prejudice or a bloodthirsty gangster hiding behind an artifice of persecution, it seems as though there is no obstacle that The Penguin cannot outswim.

[envihellbender]

A newly mobile Oswald slowly waddling towards a bloodsoaked Victor on a throne, the Emperor of Viscera

Characters: Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham), with reference to Jonathon Crane (Rogues!)

Verse: The Magnus Archives AU, Victor (The Flesh), Oswald (the Web), the Flesh apocalypse has occurred.

Content: hyperfats, weight gain, gore, very nsfw / nsft

—

Victor’s slaughter house was everything he had dreamed of. It resided at the centre of his factory farm domain, his abattoir of blood and raw meat. He, the Emperor of Viscera, the king of the new world, sat upon his gigantic throne of bones. They were all twisted together, all acquired from his various victims, too many to even begin to count. He stretched his legs out over one arm and leaned on the other as he held a bloody bicep, he held it in his hands covering the already filthy limbs in even more red and yellow liquids. He rips chunks out of it with his teeth, coating his mouth and chin in viscera and fat. He watched intently as he saw Oswald begin to get to his feet, prior to the Last Feast Victor had been submissive to Oswald. It had been him he had answered to, the Web being particularly powerful it seemed like a smart move. Now, however, things had changed. Whilst they had always said they’d rule together, now that Victor had the power and Oswald did not he wondered if it had been time to revise. Would Oswald have shared his power situations reversed? Of course he wouldn’t, Victor thought instantly. He watched Oswald in delight as he struggled, he’d just hit two thousand pounds before the Last Feast began, and despite him being a mountain of flesh thanks to Victor’s abilities Oswald could actually lift himself up on to two slabs of meat that had once been legs. His weight had been thanks to Victor as well, he had dedicated so much time to getting Oswald so huge. Serums that Victor had perfected, alongside the fact that people who spent a lot of time around Victor tended to grow fatter and fatter. Now, the immense mass was waddling towards him, it seemed impossible and enthralling.

Waddling perhaps was not an accurate term, Victor thought. He had deliberately positioned his throne as far away from the Killing Room’s entrance as he could. He licked his lips, ecstatic to see Oswald have to walk the longest possible distance to get to him. When Oswald took a step, he threw his weight behind each stride. His gigantic mass of fat swayed and rippled, each time his foot hit the ground Victor’s ears were filled with a loud crash. If they had been able to see the livestock in their pens and cages outside of the Killing Floor, they’d have seen the noises made them recoil and vomit. As Oswald dragged his body forward, his gut dragged on the stone ground covering it in streaks of blood and grime.

“Mm. Well done, my beautiful big fat bird is doing so well,” Victor hummed, eating with his mouth full of muscle and his face and torso covered in remnants of food - or rather organs. “Come on keep going.” Oswald had stopped after only five steps, his chest heaving and his pale skin blushing a deep red.

“I- I’m- going- going to-” Oswald heaved, his head completely lost behind a neck roll, his breasts sunk so low that his nipples were nearly brushing along the ground alongside his gut. The fact Oswald wasn’t wearing a ginormous, magically enhanced suit through fear of ruining it with blood, viscera, and fat that soaked into the stone floor meant he was completely naked. Victor got a nice close look at every fold, stretch mark, and chunk of cellulite as he saw what was essentially a mountain of flesh move through his slaughter house.

“Don’t worry, Os, you can’t fall. And your lungs or heart won’t give out. Don’t let your body trick you,” Victor encouraged, he shuffled on the throne as he cunt grew warm as there was a twisting in his stomach. His voice grew thick and hoarse, his lips were dry and he desperately wanted to go up and grab at Oswald’s flesh. He had to restrain himself however, if he did he wouldn’t get to see him walk the entire length. His body became exhausted so quickly, and when he reached the middle, Victor was surprised he hadn’t passed out. Of course he’d made it so his lungs and heart would be fine, it was all psychological for Oswald really. When he gets half way, Victor is surprised out his lust filled gaze by Oswald speaking again.

“You’re filthy, Victor. Absolutely disgusting. We should bathe after this,” Oswald scolded, almost like a parent. Victor giggled in response, it was true - he was covered in blood from head to toe. He had only slithers of pale skin revealed through varying shades of red blood, and his clothes were soaked in varying fluids. His hands were stained a strange brown colour, a mixture of fat and blood.

“Perhaps I should go see Jonny, get his cum and piss all over me too,” Victor teased, a smirk on his lips as Oswald’s fat quaked with jealousy. A sudden surge of adrenaline resulted in Oswald’s pace quickening, the harder steps that came faster than before and quicker than Victor thought possible. It made the entire room shake so horrifically that the metal weapons and torture implements that hung on the wall fell and banged. It resulted in Victor’s throne vibrating his thighs, a feeling which spread to his cunt.

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

Oswald Cobblepot Going Ice Skating with You (Fluff ⛸🐧🧊)

Even just putting a shoe on his injured foot is impossible.

However, he's content to watch you glide across the ice, whether that be with a warm beverage in his hand or by walking around the side fence to stay close to you. Ozzie is entranced by you - even if you aren't good at ice skating.

As much as he'd love just the sight of you, he might still try to move on the ice as well, probably by wearing a proper ice skating shoe on his better food, and by wearing slightly high heels on the other for his feet to be at the same height.

Ice skating is still something he has to re-learn after not having done it for a long time. Oswald has very happy memories of it: Gertrude loved everything to do with music and dance, so she also loved the elegant movements that can be made on the ice.

Despite his safety precautions, he doesn't have the illusion of complete safety: he needs something to hold onto, preferably not you, because he'd prefer not to make you fall.

Now comes the thing: if you've ever gone ice skating, you might have seen certain mobility aids: the penguins. The figures with two handles that are often big enough that adults can use them. Yep. Oswald might not limp on the ice but he won't get rid of the penguin-coding 😄 Here's a picture for reference:

Hold on, let me change that to a more Gotham-accurate color grading:

I had to 🤭😂

Despite the probably somber and not at all sparkly ambience of Gotham, you two have a great time. Managing to move across the ice might be a challenge, but it's one most welcome for someone whose challenges are usually of the deadly sort. It's also cold, which means that there will be lots of cuddles afterwards 🥰.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

clowns to the left of me Joker's to the right (here i am stuck in the middle with you)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/j5dNw3t by JedidaJo The day after the “No Man’s Land” order had been lifted, Delia Quinzel left Gotham City with only the clothes on her back and her infant daughter in her arms, and she’d never looked back in the decade that had passed since that day. She changed her name, went to college, and created a happy, normal life for herself and her daughter. But ten years later, she receives two invitations calling her back to Gotham – one for a celebration of an engagement, and the other with much darker intentions. Stepping foot back in into Gotham is always dangerous, but even more so for Delia, as it means risking all the secrets she’s kept for so long, but ultimately it’s rude to refuse an invitation… and stupid to ignore a threat. Words: 5665, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Delia Quinzel, Lucy Quinzel, Barry Quinzel, Harleen Quinzel, Frankie Quinzel, Ezzie Quinzel, Sharon Quinzel, Nick Quinzel, Quinzel Ensemble, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Joker (DCU), Pamela Isley, Oswald Cobblepot, Ethan Cobblepot, Addison Cobblepot, Aiden Cobblepot, Gotham City Residents, Rogues Gallery (Batman) Relationships: Jason Todd/Delia Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Ethan Cobblepot/Frankie Quinzel, Lonnie Machin/Ezzie Quinzel, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Dating, Sharing a Bed, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Protective Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Sharon Quinzel is a MILF, Dysfunctional Family, Family Shenanigans, Harleen Quinzel Needs a Hug, Delia Quinzel Tries to Be a Good Parent, Protective Jason Todd read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/j5dNw3t

[leam1983]

Random Batman Brain Fart

It's established in the canon that Oswald Cobblepot is incurably jealous of Bruce Wayne, but that his jealousy only really involves his wealth and connections. Depending on the writer, you'll get Oswalds who compensate for physical disabilities with trick umbrellas, Oswalds who only look out of shape but who can fence with an umbrella kick and transition into Capoeira flip-kicks while holding their top hat in place, and overtly monstrous Cobblepots who can't compensate for shit but who have a following of their own.

I've always thought that Oswald's airways would've also contributed to his ostracized status. In every version I've ever seen or read, he has the exact type of schnoz that makes me think he's a mouth breather, and a potential Sleep Apnea sufferer.

Imagine courting one of his more genteel versions. Everything is going swimmingly, he's maybe just a little too much into this Fred Astaire crap for 2023, but you can't fault his chivalry for being a breath of fresh air. A few pleasant dates in, you agree to spend the night.

Again - picture perfect. He's attentive to your every need, slow and considerate, and even offers you to use one of his guest rooms, the first few times, which you do.

Eventually, however, there's been enough time for the both of you to be interested in amping things up. The sex is surprisingly vigorous, coming from a guy his size, but his breathing gets a little wheezy and a little noisy near the end. A little bottle of eucalyptus oil spray is waiting in his bedside table, which soon fixes the issue. You learn he used to have crippling asthma attacks as a kid, but that he's now mostly under control after establishing a decent cardio regimen - hence the stamina.

You settle in for the night. Again - perfection. There's even a little too much of it, honestly, with him showering you with pet names - all avian - after hitting third base. He's even a little clingy, you find...

Then come the snores. Poor guy snores like a shoebill purring or an injured loon trying to find its mate. It's loud, it's unsubtle, it doesn't leave you any space to actually nod off...

Add the morning lapdog routine and renewed forced gallantry and you're soon running out of polite ways to head out. At first you try and settle on dates in other places or at your own place, but Cobblepot is dead-set on taking you back to the Lounge's private floor. You humor him a few times, duck out on a few others - ha! - but you can't get past the front he's erected. All you get to see is Oswald Cobblepot the Early Twenties' Man of Wealth and Taste, Oswald the Self-Avowed Snob - but never the actual man. Once you get bored of being treated like a flapper-to-be or a secret same-sex dalliance, you figure you'll try and provoke something out of him.

You mention his snores, how you can barely sleep in the same bed with him. The drool on the pillow, the occasional morning nosebleeds, his refusal to see another ORL despite you mentioning it...

You'd think he'd explode. Turns out he's named the Iceberg Lounge well enough. He turns frosty and distant. Within weeks, the number you were given is disconnected. Eventually, you cross paths with him again and try and see if he's at least worked on this, if he still cares.

He acts like he doesn't recognize you at all.

Of course, on the day you made him lose patience, you didn't pay the price for your own words. Some poor chump who'd failed one of his lieutenants did; with their own teeth, a fractured right foot and a close break to their left femur, and three precise gunshots....

The GCPD'll find his corpse two weeks later.

[eros-heartache]

Multifandom Flash - Superstitions Bingo Masterlist

Please be warned. This collection may contain works that are 18+. If you are a minor, please do not interact! I am an adult, who writes fiction intended for adults. As always, be mindful of tags and warnings. It is up to you to curate your own online and fandom experiences.

This Bingo Card's Ao3 Series | HERE

Multifandom Flash Bingo Tumblr | HERE

Status: Pending

Breakdown of Individual Fics Below Cut

Keys |

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Tipping a salt shaker over |

Pairing: Wade Wilson & Peter Parker & Matt Murdock

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Shooting Stars | With Time and Stars Between Us

Pairing: Edward Nygma & Oswald Cobblepot

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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an owl flying over a house |

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Dreamcatchers | Catch a Falling Star

Pairing: Nick Nelson/Charlie Spring

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Break a Leg |

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Worry Dolls |

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Friday the 13th |

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Blowing out Birthday candles |

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Failing to respond to a chainletter |

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Step in with the right foot |

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[maximummuses]

"Cautious, secretive. Either someone's been watching too many mob movies or he knows what he's doing." It'll be hard to say unless Damian can get in person to see Capo. ID'ing him in general will be an uphill battle. After all, he doesn't sound like the kind of man who seems especially enthused about being brought into the light. But criminals and their ilk rarely are. Damian, of course, is acutely aware of how this reflects on him.

She can run, if she wants. Right now, Damian doesn't have much of a reason to ultimately chase after her, much less get into another pursuit, not when this seems like the bigger catch. But he has to start somewhere, and right now, Cat is the only one of the pair who has seen Capo. Damian won't say it out loud (half because of his pride, half because there's no reason to), but he needs her help more than she'll need his. That makes this kind of dealing... difficult, to say the least.

Difficult, but far from impossible.

He knows that an eye-witness account is far from being reliable. People like to brag about their perfect memories but they're rarely up to snuff when the time calls for their so-called perfect recall. But it's a start. Already, he can piece together that Capo is a part of criminal spaces. That already gives him a few ideas of where to look. But his first stop will have to be the Iceberg Lounge. For as much as he hates that place, it has uses as a bed of information. Penguins don't sing, but Oswald Cobblepot can be pressed into a tune or two. But he has to be careful to not push too far. It has to be a give and a take, when all is said and done.

"Older man, around six foot, Italian accent, potentially greying dark hair, and nice dress shoes. Wears a nice watch and smells of both cigars and cigarettes." Robin repeats out loud, just to make sure he's not forgetting anything or to see if Cat has any corrections to make. It might be one of the old holdouts, if he's middle-aged. A lot of this isn't too much to go off of, but the watch... that's a lead. Assuming it's real. "I need you to be completely honest with me: do you plan on doing more business with Capo?"

                   "THA'S THE NAME I WAS GIVEN. i don't know all his interest in language and titles and all. i met the dude once, and tha's not really the best way to put it. really, i was in the same room as him once. fuck if i know he's really the head honcho or just one of the top CRONIES." shoulders bounced a shrug. it wasn't doing her favors not to know the specifics, but keeping out of the loop on those was part of the survival tactic. cat had no i n t e r e s t in being too involved, because that made her a target to others. whether rivals or cops or whatever.

             she didn't want any part of that. she just wanted to get away. be left alone. maybe she could take off now, maybe robin wouldn't bother chasing her... but maybe he would and she'd be battling enforcement of multiple levels. all the brunette was attempting to accomplish was free herself from a deeper hole. how far under she already was was an uncertainty. for all she knew, she was fine, she would be untouched, he'd let her v a n i s h into the night. but there wasn't a strong desire to take the chance that it was the opposite. stay on the good side... that much would give her at least something.

                              when the hero went on to pry for more, there would flicker a grimace along tired expression. cat's bony fingers pressed against the splintered wood of another crate, feeling rough texture digging into her skin as she pushed against it. pulling herself up and twisting, sitting atop and letting the heels of oversized sneakers kick against the hollow container. attempt to twist her features to more CONTEMPLATIVE, but already her mind ached from trying to scrape the memory. she was decent with such, but witnesses were far from the perfect source of info. as observant as she could be, she was no exception unless she was specifically trying to ingrain something or someone to memory.

             "...tall? like. a'least in the six foot range. the italian accent like i said, but he was... uh. gruff? sounded older but not, like. old old. like fifties, maybe late forties. i didn't see his eyes and shoes jus' looked like those nice, brown dress shoes men wear. hair was pretty dark but this... patch of like... white on the back of his head? maybe graying, maybe dyed, i don't know. jus' remember thinking it looked like he got hit with a paintball or something." lapse into silence, scratching at her jeans, watching dirt c r u m b l e away from the fabric. "no facial hair, though... but there was... a watch? i think. it was silver looking, super shiny, and he smelled like both cigarette and cigar."

[gizzardscrolls]

God of Machines: Wayland's journal

Chapter 3: Left in the Dark

“Now that they have thoroughly ruined the entertainment, the last group gets number 2. You are free to go. No catch, go back in with the fold and mingle or whatever you folks do.”

 They look just as shocked as I do even with blindfolds on. After that display who the fuck knows what’s going to happen to these people. He continues onto the singular man.

 “This is for the guards, not the prisoners but I wish for you all to see it as well. This man had damaged the cultist on the transport here. Costing me 4 silver taels in the health potion alone, due to his recklessness, I have decided to take his gear and let him loose in the mountain ranges. Prisoners and guards come closer to the fence” 

Some other guards bring out a ladder. We are all corralled up to the front. Oswald looks like a walking corpse already. The former guard after climbing up the ladder is told to jump from the 15-foot fence. He hit the ground with a loud thud. He gets up and starts limping. Matthais, clearly bored, fires a shot from his handgun at his feet. 

“Go on, run! Make this fun for us!” 

The man starts panicking and goes as fast as he can with the fractured leg. 

“No one looks away from this, I took time out of the work day for this show!” 

a few more seconds pass before he speaks again “Does anyone find this cruel?”

 Oswald mumbled, “I do.” 

Matthais heard that, but instead of getting mad, he seems kinda happy. “I agree Oswald,”

 he then pulls out a radio from the inside of his coat. “ Tower, come in.” 

The man on the other side simply said “Roger that”

. Matthais was pleased by the guard in the tower knowing his orders without question. I heard a loud thump, I turned around and saw the missile’s launch sequence. The round container it was in launched all at once with a wind crystal. The container splits into three pieces and falls off almost as fast as you see the missile launch. The actual payload activates, fire comes out from the bottom and it goes straight into the sky, presumably while it loads the coordinates. A few more seconds pass when I turn back almost instantly, it comes from the sky as if the machine god Jaena themself killed him. I feel a tiny spec of blood hit my cheek. Nothing but silence from the crowd.

Matthais asks, “Everyone please have a good night, and remember the old and weak will die.”

 I don't know how having a good night would be possible for any of us. 

As the prisoners all clear out, Oswald says to me “Alice can help you from here, she’s been here longer than any of us except for the warden. I'm supposed to show you around more sir, but I'm just.”

 He stops talking and walk’s away, can't say I blame him. I make my way across the courtyard to the only other person in the room. Alice, Her jumpsuit doesn’t have sleeves, she has long red hair and freckles all along her arms leading slightly up her neck covered in rune scars and then some freckles on the bridge of her nose. She looks up at me as if seeing a lifelong friend and break’s into a mile-wide smile despite the last 5 minutes 

“Hey, Wayland.”

 I’m pretty sure I’d recognize her since she knows my name. I know she’s not a past client.  

“Haha, real fucking funny. Who are you?”

 The runes on her throat start to glow, her voice suddenly gets many times deeper “How’s Cobblepot doing?”

 sighing I say “Fucking Wellerman.”

 Wellerman was a mysterious mechanic that lived in our town for a few years, they never said much, and completely covered themselves head to toe in a black robe but were always helpful when working on cars. She basically kept our convoys afloat before the town’s decline. I was the only person to really talk to her, I think. I was always telling her about my jobs and hunts, it’s kinda embarrassing to know I was showing my battle scars to a woman

 “You should speak with a better tone. how’s that any way to treat a girl as cute as me” she chimed in, back into her normal voice. 

Sorry for being cautious after being thrown into a prison run by a lunatic. “Sorry, what the hell are you doing here?” 

She looks at me like I just had a brain hemorrhage. I know why she’s here. “So I'm supposed to show you around a little more, according to that kid from earlier.”

 she wraps her arm around my neck and bring’s my head down to hers. “We’re going to bust out in a few weeks' time. Your strength is gonna help us stay out unlike the ones today.” 

“And how do you propose that we do that Wellerman?”

 She pouts “You have a proper name for me, use it.”

 Demanding. I might be happier to see someone I vaguely knew if I actually did vaguely know her. Who’s to say Alice is her real name? She seems to have a few screws loose, but to be fair, she left the village about 4 years ago and never came back, I assume she’s been here since. She led me through the hallway the fire caster came from. The ceiling was curved and the walls were cinder blocks and chain link fencing. The ground in this section was just packed together with sand better than the gravel of the courtyard. Well for me anyway because I still don't have my nice fucking boots. 

“This is the residential area, we all sleep here, guards, doctors, captives.” 

She pulls my head down again. “Except for the warden and the caster, they sleep underneath the camp. In the tunnel system that splits off from the mine. There are rumors that he has a machine guarding the entrance from the mines” 

This is going to be a headache. The offspring of jaena the unfeeling cold machines that predate man. They like to pretend to be human and attempt to live among us, most of the ones who attempt to integrate with humans pretend to feel pain or other emotions. Maybe they can feel some but there are no souls in their sensors. Alice let go of my head and kept leading me down the halls. The ground shifted from the packed sand to rough concrete, probably part of a renovation to move carts easier.

 “This is the dumping zone for the carts, from what the last group gathered the dump leads very close to the garage.” 

Puzzled, I asked, “Why didn't you go with the last group when they broke out?” 

She responded pretty fast “Keep your voice down.” 

she pulled my head down to her yet again “I'm not talking in your ear for no reason dumbass, We can’t really go anywhere with the warden still around. The Reavers will relay information to each other. We take care of Matthais, they won't report us as gone. The last group wouldn’t listen to my advice.” 

The intercom crackled with the familiar voice of Reed. “Tomorrow will be a hard work day, for your sake and mine, mostly yours. Please do not get injured. We are low on supplies, You will clear the abandoned shaft. Please do not fire at guards with loaned weapons. we don’t want a repeat of today.”

 Alice lets out a heavy sigh, which is my thing to do. “We gotta kill the pests in the mine tomorrow, have you ever been in a mine wayland?”

 “Of course. Are we dealing with overgrown spiders or Nidskr?” 

She chuckled. “I have no idea, probably both. Here catch”

 she throws me a key with a tag reading R-083 on it, “This the room key Alice?”

 “Yeah, you remember your way to the room right?”

“Why do we get our own keys, that’s not like any prison I've been a part of,” I ask.

she responds simply “You've already seen what happens to people who aren't where they’re supposed to be when they need to be. Be nice to your roommate Wayland.”

she walks away pretty quickly, I start walking around, no intercom has stated a bedtime, and even then I’m alright at sneaking around if I stay out too long. I see Reed talking to an inmate, the inmate is a fairly large well built man, he’s wearing the normal pants of the jumpsuit but a tank top instead of it being zipped up all the way, it looks torn up.

 “Hey new guy, I don't bite, promise!”

 He doesn’t seem like a bad actor, so I go over to the two of them.

 Reed opens up with “Don’t let big man scare you, he’s just as nice as big bear”

 the other guy introduces himself. “The name’s Brad, I saw you walking with Alice earlier, most I've seen her talk. ‘Cept for the last uh, group.” 

he whispers, “We’re all in on the plan. Even Reed over there, we’re going to make it this time. If you’re as strong as she said. You’ll probably figure it out tomorrow but Alice made you sound like a legend, for our sake please live up”

 Reed added “Hey kid, if fail. Don’t feel bad. We tried, no? Like say in Carn, better to die man than live like dog” 

Shit if that ain't the truth.

 “Well guys I'm going to my room, I don’t know what you heard but I'm just a man, same as you.”

 Brad laughs “Humble, are we? Well good luck tomorrow, hopefully we get in the same group.” 

he slaps me on the back as I walk past, I can’t say I dislike them but I fear they expect more out of me than I can actually give. I get lost in the hallway and wander back to the two still talking. 

Reed sees me and starts laughing, Brad joins in too. “Lost one! I go with you to find your way.” 

Reed leads me down the same hallway, I swear it’s the same route I went but we actually go down the hallway leading to rooms 70-90 the floor’s back to packed sand here. 

Reed breaks the silence “What do you call a flat tail that’s mad? A brat tail!”

 his own shitty joke sends him into the greatest fit of laughter. A happy man despite being probably under the same threat of execution as the rest of us, he keeps making similar jokes the entire way down until we get to R-83.

 “Okay Reed, thank you for the directions. I’ll pay you back somehow.”

 He simply smiles waves goodbye then is gone as soon as I blink. I unlocked the door with the key Alice gave me. Inside the room is actually better than I thought, there is carpet on the floor, a bunk bed on the right side, a desk on the left, and on the back is almost a bathroom, with that same concrete floor as the nicer parts of here. On the right side is a sink and on the left is a shower with a closed door. Someone’s in it, my roommate I imagine. The top bunk look’s untouched but the bottom appears to have been slept in recently. So I take the jumpsuit off and get on the top bunk, whoever is my roommate I hope isn't mad about me taking the top bunk. I hear the shower turn off and the door open. 

I turn and say “Hey sorry but I'm taking the top b-”

 Well, it turns out the rooms are not separated as I see Alice. I instantly roll over praying to Jaena, I don't end up with my eyes ripped out. Alice starts laughing, not in a nervous or flirty way but in a laughing at seeing someone fall on their ass kind of way

“I'm glad I didn't say anything when I threw you the keys. Your reaction is priceless. Never been in a girl’s room before?”

  She gets in the bottom bed. “After all, you were always telling me, or should I say Wellerman? About how the girls in the village broke your heart” 

Cheap shot, it’s not like I knew you weren’t a 50-year-old man. “Fuck you, Alice.” 

Poor choice of words unfortunately as she responded with “Keep wishing Wayland.” 

The lights go out automatically around 9pm, and with the light’s going out, my lights too went out exhausted from the beating in the forest and what I saw in the courtyard today

.

 The intercom cracks itself and I came to life at the start of the morning. Instead of Reed’s calming voice, it was Mattihais, “I hope everyone is prepared for a productive day, as our old friends have finally returned. I've decided to open up another abandoned mineshaft. Meet in the courtyard in 5 minutes"

I sit up fully awake after that last statement, looking over to the ladder I see the bright green eyes of Alice staring at me. 

“Uh, good morning?”

 She just smiles at me and then jumps off the ladder. She throws the jumpsuit at me. 

“You sleep silently. I thought you were dead.” 

I respond simply “It’s a skill you learn out there, either you do or you die. Is that why you’re so happy to see me?” 

Alice just keeps smiling, “Good to see an old friend.” 

I slide the jumpsuit back on. It’s not as comforting to me as armor but for general wear it's serviceable. Leading back to the courtyard, on the stage is the warden. 

“Good evening, as you can see we skipped breakfast today, due to the dangerous nature of today's work, we will only make enough for those who survive. You will be provided weapons and ammo before you go in, we will provide armor for those who take the initiative and go in first, due to the small nature of the mines, we can’t send you all in at once please make groups of three and one guard.” 

Over near the pit in the center, I see Alice, Brad, and Oswald. Brad waves me over, Oswald still looks sick. Alice look’s same as ever. Oswald leads us to the guns

 “Since Alice volunteers you guys to go in first you get some armor, and first grabs on the weapons.” 

He mumbled fuck under his breath. I take it he thinks he’s going to die today. I look at my hands now, the flesh fully healed from my brief stint, it still hurts when I breathe, however. I decided to take a spear so I don't have to fight anything up close, and for firearms, I take this large automatic belt-fed 8 gauge shotgun. I have no idea what madman in the base cooked this thing up but it looks useful. Brad grabs a carn mt-lion SMG from the war days. Its mag is in the stock and goes in the top the bullet’s eject out of the bottom it has a small profile but seems useful. He also grabs a shield and a mace for melee combat. Alice brings along a breznov and a dagger. Oswald has a Carn standard rifle, a midsized rifle with a carrying handle on top, wood stock, and foregrip. The armor is just leftovers from the war. Bargain bin shit for beginner hunters but it’s better than getting your lungs blown out with the exception of the armor from the transport guard. Full heavy carn armor from the war. I immediately start putting it on, thank Jaena that guard beat the cultist. Starting with the thick jumpsuit-like base that has armor plating on its arms and throughout its legs, I put on the equally thick boots. It has two spikes on the steel plate above the toes, and the dense segmented chest plate covers are so thick, I'm virtually immortal. I finally put on that reflective dome helmet. It's weird how empty the inside is; it doesn't obstruct my field of vision at all. No wonder Carn won, I look over at Brad and Alice. Brad’s armor still leaves his arms past his shoulders exposed but I guess it’s more coverage than his usual attire. Alice’s armor cover’s her fully; she has a padded leather undersuit, a normal Kevlar vest, elbow and knee pads, and a full helmet.

 “Come on snake eyes, let’s go” She taunts me with the nickname the hunters guild gave me

 “So where's the entrance?” I ask over the speakers inside the suit. 

Brad says “In the pit, there’s an entrance.”

  “Wait, the one they threw that cultist in?” I asked. 

Oswald responds with “Yeah they didn’t bother cleaning it out beyond what Roderick burned.”

 We climbed down a ladder placed where the spikes used to be before the flame pillar. We walk across the pit, and upon closer inspection, I see much more ashes and bones than those poor souls could have left. This is not the first time they’ve done that. I see the unmistakable bones of the cultist, starting to crystalize with the raw mana that was going through it, what an unsightly being even in death. Its skull at least shows it was once a human, I step on the skull of the cultist crushing it into pieces under my heavy boot. 

“Let’s roll everyone,” Brad says, taking the lead into the gaping maw of darkness.

 The first 5-10 minutes of walking is fine, silent but fine. After about 20 minutes we finally end up at the blocked-off tunnel. I bash the wooden barricade down just fine, It only takes a few more minutes before we encounter the first few nidskr. Big scally beast’s the size of an older child, they eat minerals and magic crystals, but are very territorial and routinely fight humans. The first one lets loose a hiss, it raises its long neck upwards, I stab it in the throat with my spear. Nidskr aren’t difficult by themselves, but what you have to really look out for are the ones that breathe fire, or worse acid. This one has no markings and is a standard gray one. 

Oswald says “Thank god it’s not one of the acid ones, I saw one melt a guy’s face off one time.” 

Alice probably doesn't like being jinxed and says to him “Hey Os, if you don't shut up right now, I'm using you as a meat shield first one we see.” 

Oswald straightens his back up “Sorry ma’am I didn't mean to curse us” 

After a few moments of silence, he starts talking again. “Do you guys believe in the legion?”

 This piques Brad’s interest “What, the boogiemen demons that take corpses and turns em into more legion?” 

Oswald nods as Brad keeps talking “No way they’re real, people say that venir used to be these small nice things called deer. And that vatador never existed either, you really think some demons out there are playing god?” 

“Better than thinking Jaena abandoned us” I add. 

Brad seems to disagree. “How’s that not saying Jaena abandoned us? That the demons just walk around?”

 Alice seems uninterested in the conversation. “The demons came through from out of this world. How would Jaena have control over that? Now if Jaena placed the venir themself then I’d say Jaena did.” 

Brad just says “Mmm” and that was the end of that conversation, we keep walking through the abandoned tunnels and don't seem to find anything. 

“Guys, why do you think this tunnel is shut off?” Brad asks us.

 Oswald replies “It’s marked off the map, we have no idea what’s down here and didn't want to risk it until now.”

 Alice states rather sharply “Who’s we? I didn't agree to be here.” 

Well, she’s not wrong. We continue in silence after that. The minecart track suddenly disappeared for a few steps then we saw train tracks. 

Brad stunned said, “Here be dragons”

 The dragons of the old west, trains. Before Jaena gave us automobiles, they gave us trains. Their horn was a roar and the smoke they produced gave them the name of dragons. At least according to the few machines left who were around at the time. Trains were mostly hidden away and rare to be seen. Left in the dark ages back when the mystic races were still around, the machines refuse to talk about the mystic races. The first car we enter appears to be a workshop on the table, a spearhead more like a trident. There are no magic crystals but rather just raw mana in the blade itself, the rest go on a head but I decided to keep it to see what could be done with it. After about 20 minutes of work, it’s done and they’ve completely explored the dragon. The train goes over a ravine and we can use it as a makeshift bridge, I go out to look from the vantage point of the dragon’s car, the cave is a beautiful place lit by fluorescent fungi with a pit of water underneath there is a single stone path, and in the center is a large structure, a design I have never seen before, it appears to be a massive castle of smoothed stone. Up the smooth pillars that rise from the water-filled bottom, are runes or perhaps letters I have never seen before, the rest of the group behind me says we should go back for reinforcements, and as I turn back to go and join them the train car we’re in start’s to slip, naturally I'm in the heaviest armor, it starts to slip more, brad reaches out and I grab his hand. The car falls. It hit the ground with a heavy thud throwing me off my feet. Brad and I are stuck down here. The car’s not so far that we couldn’t get up with some equipment. Alice and Oswald are up above us.

Oswald calls out to us “Sir are you alive?” 

Brad replies first “Yeah kid we’re alive, go back and get a ladder and maybe some more people. Pff Shit just try and get Reed at least so we can explore deeper. Kid these are relics from the dark age, I'm seeing them even if Matthias tortures my ass”

 I ask “Hey Os, Alice! You guys okay?”

 Os said, “Yeah I'm fine I was almost out of the car anyway when it fell.” 

Alice, clearly injured in her voice, said “I'll manage, I think I just fractured my arm. Worst case they put me back in the mechanic’s again. Luckily I'm worth enough to keep around even when injured.” 

I tell her “Don't go missing on us again Alice!”

 Alice I think slightly happier said thanks then they left. 

Brad is still inspecting the train car. “Do you know how fucking big this is Wayland? The elves and dwarves. We can find out more about the progenitors of humanity” 

My reply was very simple. “If it mattered they’d still be here. I can theorize all I want but if there’s no way to understand a single damn thing they wrote, then who cares?”

 He didn't seem as bothered by my comments. “No Wayland, someone out there has the answers. I'm sure we can find something in there.” 

Brad points to the large structure across the stone bridge, a foreboding mass of stone stretching all the way to the water at the bottom, it’s thicker at the base and thins as it goes to the top leaving a slanted appearance in its rectangular design. I can see flag’s from this distance. It looks like a true fort, there is still light on the inside in most rooms. I assume it’s magic crystals, there’s not much to do but wait. Reed and Os come back.

 Awe-struck at the sight Reed just says “Where was this hiding?”

 “underground probably sir” Os said rather straight forward. 

We walk down the stone pathway to the fortress, no one says anything, the door is a large and rotted piece of wood, Mold and holes as if chewed through by rats and other parasites. As I push it open the hinges groan as if to signal its dying breath. The first hallway is a rather extravagant foyer with two large stairways in the center that splinter off, a door directly in front of us, and two door’s on the left and right. Above us hung a chandelier dimly lighting the room with magic crystals. The mana was dissipating slowly over the years, underneath that was a large engraved circle, the runes more common than the ones on the outside, the rest of the floor was a pattern of smooth tiles. 

Brad asked reed, “Can you read these runes? Or should we explore more first.”

Reed taking a closer look, “I am shaman does not mean I know every rune. These runes are very old, ancient. From what I can read with a glance it wants some kind of orb. I’ll need to study further.”

 “I think we should go have someone stay with Reed while he tries to figure that out” I add. 

Brad seems to agree and adds “we should have whoever's staying swap out and rest for each room. There’s no telling what monsters lurk in the dark, since you have the most armor wayland I don't think you’re going to be able to switch out "

 Of course it’s me "I was already expecting that, it is my first day after all. Come on Os, let’s go through that center door, I trust Brad and Reed have the entrance.”

 Os seemed a little frightened but I just assume that’s his state of mind. Opening the door in the middle we’re greeted with the very faint flow of wind and light water droplets as if it was raining. It's a bridge that connects to another door. At the end this bridge has a nice arch to it and pillar’s connecting the guard rail to the top. Looking up I see this is probably the midpoint of the fort, the upper part a massive room glowing orange that emanates magic, it seems to connect to the top of the mountain. 

Interrupting the tranquil scenery Os says. “Sir watch your step, the bridge seems to have chunks fallen out.”

  I see what he means up ahead there’s a large chunk of missing stone you can see the faintly blue glowing water at the bottom, i can’t quite make out what the chunk of stone landed on but it seems to be a tunnel, onward we continued to the door on the other side, smooth steel with no handle or markings completely smooth. I figure using berserk to bust this door down would be a waste of time, we make our way back to the center. 

Brad asked “why are you guy’s back so soon?”

 I told him “Door’s locked and has no way to open.” 

Reed looked up and said. “Mmm, strange runes and contraptions underground. I think this is ruin of dwarves.”

 I said “the bridge gave us a good view, this place is much larger than we first thought.” 

Os and I both decided to go to the door that was on our left when we entered, a long spiral staircase folding into itself down to the pitch black below. The stairs leading upwards had all cracked away, with no choice we decided to descend into the darkness. As we walked down the stairs the light slowly started to bleed away, the faint orange of the outdated fire crystal lantern’s above stopped giving off enough light to see about halfway down. I turned on the flashlight mounted on the suit mounted next to the speakers, the pale light bleached the colors from the wall making the stone gray look more ashen. There was water down at the bottom of the stairs reflecting the light back at us as we made our final steps. Not taking the risk of there being no final step and falling I jumped into the water that had been still for who knows how long, thankfully the undersuit for the armor is mostly water proof. The water went up to my thighs. At the bottom there’s a hallway that leads to the direction the bridge was going. 

“Hey Os!”

 he went into the water more carefully then i, slowly sinking his feet in.

 “Yes sir?” 

I sigh “Stop calling me that i'm older than you, the name’s Wayland. I assume this water got in here somehow, this suit has maybe a minute of oxygen in it when I shut the air vent’s so if we get somewhere we have to go underwater you have to go back.”

 He just nodded. We go through the hallway, untouched by anything for who knows how long? I can see the piece of the bridge from earlier i can hear water trickling in slowly, this section is almost above the water so i assume that’s why it’s only thigh deep, i pull at the section of bridge that’s in the hallway and pull loose some rotted chunks of stone enough for me to move it into a better position, i jam the blade of my spear in between the wall and the chunk of bridge, i lift it up enough for us to crawl through. I prop the spear up using the wooden shaft, After Os goes in, I crawl in after on my knees, the water is up to my shoulders. I look up and through the chunk of bridge that’s out I see the cave walls yet again. How was this place hidden for so long? I stand up on the other side, there are stairs that lead above the water and into a doorway on the other end look’s to be the remnants of a moon pool. It uses water and air pressure to have an exit to the body of water that’s inside it without the water getting in. Looking around more it seems this moon pool was used as a sort of bath house for the dwarves. There’s towels and clothes around but no corpses, The pool in the center glowing blue with plenty of the fluorescent mushrooms below. there’s a much shorter straight staircase case in front of us, climbing up it I can feel the water draining out of the spare ammo boxes for my shotgun. Stepping up the wooden stairs I can feel them creak beneath my weight, at the top is what appears to be a locker room, instead of normal metal locker’s these were intricate safes with number codes required to open them. The exit of the room was a metal ladder, the safes that were open didn't have much in them, some gold trinket’s and magic crystals that were already halfway bled out. There was a messenger bag on one of the many bench’s in the room, i put it over my shoulder and put the spearhead from earlier in so i no longer had to carry it, i threw in all the magic crystal’s i could carry, Os just seemed content with a few ring’s he found. After all, the dead can't use any of this so we might as well. I cared more for the practical items but every kid wants to be rich. I only found a few useful magic crystals. They were all nearly empty but a few lightning one’s still had charge in them. 

While climbing up the ladder Os asked me “Wayland, what do you think happened to the dwarves?”

 An interesting question to say the least. 

“Well Os I think an entire race disappearing over a few dozen years would be a pretty hard thing to do. So my theories are, the legion is real and dismantled them turning them into some foul beast. Or the only other and more likely answer, Jaena is the only being powerful enough to wipe out an entire race.” 

Os was thinking pretty hard about my answer as he said. “If Jaena created life then why would he take it away.”

 “I don't know Os, I don't know.” 

Opening the trap door at the top of the ladder we are binded with a bright light and a room with a heat like the sun. Once my eyes are adjusted I realize this must have been the large room we saw above us on the bridge. Its ceiling leads up higher than I can even see, with weapons and armor all around us, before the time of gun’s this armor would have been the best money could buy, all the equipment around us has a faint feeling of mana, but the most would be in the forge itself. A substance I could only call raw fire magic. In a large basin above which hung a metal shaft. There was a swirling pool of fire mana so dense even through the suit I could feel pins and needles throughout my skin. Opposite of it was two large chains and an intricate mural behind them. Os starts to cough pretty bad, with the armor he’s wearing he’ll be getting magic sickness in no time 

“Os we gotta get out of here fast, if you don't want to start puking up blood for the next two weeks” 

He just said okay weakly, i start to look around the room. I see a button in front of the forge, Above the long shaft of what appears to be a spear, i take out the spearhead to inspect them closer together when the shaft starts to vibrate, i can feel the spear head in my hand shake violently, i let go and it flings itself into the pit of magic. I press the button in front of me figuring no harm can be done at this point. The shaft drops into the pit as well. I can feel the mana concentrate on the spear and I no longer feel the mana on my skin. Taking this as our opportunity to leave, I check the other side of the room. I see stairs but the bottom few are broken. Enough to the point where I can lift Oswald over but I won't be able to get up myself. At the end of the stairway there is a ledge overlooking the forge and the two large chains between it, there’s a door up there I figure he can leave from. I figure that won't be locked, so I pick Os up and throw him onto the stairs.

 “Ow, what'd you do that for?” I can hear it in his voice a few more minutes in here and he’d be out for about a month if not longer.

 “Go through that door up there, i'll be with you as soon as i can.”

 The kids scared or much better of a person then I thought “I'm not going alone sir!”

 I reassured him as best as I could, “I'll live kid, just go”

 he shambles his way up the stairs coughing every few steps, I start to pull on the chain closest to me. I can move it but not by much. This is the best time to use berserk. I pull the chain up and it does nothing. Using my increased strength I throw it down as hard as I can. It only moves a few links at a time but I hear gears turning. After about 30 seconds of doing this the mural start’s to split open as it appears to have been hiding a giant gate. Suddenly I hear a loud growl as if an ancient evil had awoken. A few seconds later I hear quick steps, heavy enough to move mountains. When i think it’s over i hear a howl so loud it shakes my vision, and with it the gate blasts open snapping both the chain i was holding onto and the chain opposite sending me off my feet and a few feet back, in front of me is the unmistakable yellow, rocky flesh,of a vatador. Its giant 5 eye’s stare at me with rage, it raises its two large shield-like front arms, it stands on its hind legs and lets loose one more howl with its sunken in mouth, this one declaring war. 

“Watch out!” Os yells out.

 Thanks for the warning I had no clue this thing was coming. I lift up my shotgun and fire off into it, The front arm’s hard as stone take very little damage as if i just shot a man with a slingshot rather than a automatic shotgun that blows through cars, the high cyclical rate of the shotgun and the large cartridge makes the recoil hard to control, my fire goes up its left leg and hits the unguarded center eye as it charges forwards. It roars in anger swinging its left leg wildly and missing me by a hair as I leap out of the way. It raises its right leg and thrusts it in the ground attempting to skewer me and instead breaking a hole through the floor, I use this to my advantage as it won't be able to move for a while. I run underneath the vatador and lift up the shotgun again and let loose this time on its softer belly. I fire the rest of the ammo belt into its stomach this time to much greater effect. It can hit me with its left arm because I'm hiding underneath its right arm trapped in the floor. Before I can finish reloading it rips its arm from the floor bringing with it many stone brick’s, the room can’t handle this fight for much longer being suspended above nothing but the water. The vatador slams its arm into me throwing me across the room and right next to  my helmet cracking against the stone basin the forge no longer overflowing with mana. It takes a few steps closer before the ground collapses and with it the room that overhung the water. Luckily the vatador fell first, i see it flailing through the air, it hits a stalagmite impaling it through the chest, then the forge basin no longer glowing slam’s into its head. If it wasn't dead before it’s dead now. I hit the arm and bounced off falling into the dark below.