#I also know she likes ground types and that she is acrobatic

[cerimarii]

Take this drawing of my other Pokémon OCs wearing their takes on the Naranja Academy uniform while I figure out what the heck I want my Scarlet character to look like.

[ellohallohiya]

Kald-dal's QQ1 OCs Name Yap >:D P.2

Yeah, I picked out more last names for the characters without them, and I'm so sorry for taking so long to make a part 2 :,)

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Juniper - Comes from the juniper tree, it means to produce, it also means young, and it also is connected with its berries. Juniper berries are medicinal plants, and in ancient Rome they were associated with positive qualities, such as protectiveness, life and growth, energy, purification, and cleansing. Saint Juniper is also known as ‘the jester of the Lord’ or ‘the saint of comedy and laughter’ and the man was also known for his patience. Juniper is also associated with evergreens and fruit. Juniper also means, spiritually, setting up boundaries and standing their ground. Also it’s a hippie name

Skye - It’s popular as a name in the Christian religion, but comes from Norse. But it means ‘clouds’. The name also means they are spiritually strong and intense, in both charm and stinging. To continue on Norse, it means ‘misty isle’. Also The Island of Skye is the one of the most beautiful of Scotland’s sights to see

So Juniper is healing, protective, funny, energetic, patient, and full of life and growth. So I can’t wait to see her character arc. And I think it’s kind of a long stretch, but due to The Island of Skye, y’know, being an island, means she’s kind of alone and cut off, but when people come to see the views there it’s beautiful and so amazing to really be there (the Island is like the most famous in Ireland but you get the idea)

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Cypress - From the cypress tree. The cypress both represents everlasting life and mourning of loss. It is also a very flammable tree. In a Greek story, ‘Cyparrissus’ (another version of the name Cypress), accidentally killed his best friend and favorite companion, a trained stag, with a hunting javelin. In sadness, he transformed into a cypress tree so he could mourn eternally for his loss. This Greek character was also gay with Apollo at some point. Anyways, as a spiritual name it means natural transitions and the cycle of life

Holden - Means hold, but, fancy in old language. It also means deep valley. In the Bible, its meaning is trapped, restrained, or unable to see. Another meaning is Christian Jewish is willing, quiet, gracious, from the hollow in the valley

I swear if he accidentally kills Juniper in the story with an ax (or an unfamiliar weapon he was pushed to use more likely) I will scream and cry. Anyways, he will mourn, like a lot. But the cycle of life I guess. And he is a deep valley, so his character will get even deeper, he is a thankful, quiet, and willing guy, (absolute malewife to Juniper)

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Evelyn - In the Bible, it means life light, ‘source of light and life’. In Greek and French it means desired and wished for. In German, the name was derived from the word ‘ewe’ which means, wishing well, winning, and being blessed. In Irish, it means beauty, birds, hazelnuts, and water. On a baby website, the name means intuitive, creative, and compassionate

Danvers - A dancer or acrobat. (I tried to search it up but all I got was how Danvers became a last name. But fan fact: Supergirl’s last name is Danvers)

So Evelyn has many definitions (as I kinda expected) and hey, intuitiveness and creativity while being compassionate seems like Evelyn well. And winning sounds fun. (Also I know like two Evelyns in real life, one is blonde and is a bit overprotective of their younger brother too)

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Avery - Wise and whimsical, also the ruler of elves (in German). And most definitions found in forums and baby name sites do say the name just mostly means the ruler of elves (or counsel) and wisdom. The name also means leadership and nobility in the Bible. Being chosen by God, and experiencing transformation, growth, evolution, and improvement

Danvers - Originally from Norse, which traveled to mostly France and Belgium

Avery is the ruler of elves! Wow. But anyways, he grows and changes down the story (before dying sadly) and can’t wait for his arc

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Harvie - Strong, worthy, carnage, determined, eager for battle. Really matches my first interpretation of her character. Hervey means illustrious warrior, army, noble, sublime, bright and shining. Harvey means, battle worthy in blazing iron. But Harvie sounds like the word harvest, which means gathering of crops

Pollock - A group of fish that is related to cods, but is a bit darker. Pollock is also slang for insulting a person of Polish birth or descent (it says it isn’t a slur though, but just a derogatory term relating to the fact the word means fish and cod). But the fish does symbolize abundance and prosperity, a vital source of food, and a provider of sustenance 

I guess this name was mostly chosen due to it sounding like the word harvest. But it’s so funny how the actual definition matches how I first thought her would be like-

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Weirdo - A person whose behavior is strange or eccentric. It could also mean unconventional. Or a psychopath or somebody just not normal and unusual. Sometimes used to describe perverts in slang

Wheaton - From the wheat town. Made of wheat. Man of wheat. Wheaton is scarecrow man confirmed /jkjk

Tobin - God is good. Otherwise, the name is usually connected to Saint Aubin. But there is several versions of the name in multiple other languages/cultures

Simple boi I guess. But scarecrow symbolism, it is like a natural boogeyman, a monster. But it is also a prop to scare of birds, maybe other tributes (Evelyn’s name also means bird so Wheaton just made her go away like the scarecrow he is)

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Carmen - Short form of the name, Maria del Carmen, or ‘Mary of Caramel’, which is a reference to the Holy Land. And in the Bible it means garden, orchard, and vineyard. It also means song. And it can be a reference to the Roman Goddess Carmenta. And it represents a strong, compassionate, and natural woman

Cortez - Courteous or polite. The name could also mean someone who lived as/near the court of a king or sovereign 

I think her name was mostly chosen because of the queen Carmen Sandiego to be honest. But Carmen is a strong, compassionate, natural woman, she an icon for real. And I think she is polite, to a degree, like at least not an asshole

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Taurus - Is a zodiac sign that represents a bull. The most prevalent personality traits on them that were shown on google were, being intelligent, dependable, hardworking, dedicated, stubborn, patient, loyal, sensual, and devoted. Apparently they don’t sweat the small stuff, so they are calming and nice to be around. They are mentally strong and very consistent. There is so much on a zodiac sign so… not gonna say it all sorry

Rivera - Name originates from the word riverbank. Not many definitions, but it is a popular Spanish last name

Taurus is a taurus! (He’s born on the 8th of May right? Or was that Katniss’ bday?) Anyways the zodiac sign fits him (there’s probably traits of other zodiac signs that can relate to him too though) And it’s honestly just a mine of character traits positive and negative and miscellaneous when being named after a zodiac

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Robin - A small bird. The robin symbolizes good luck, happiness, rebirth, renewal, growth, and new beginnings. Fun facts about robins!: They are adaptable, with a variety of nest types, such as holes, hollows, recesses, and even boxes. They are very territorial, to the point where their breast is to indicate territorial messages, they defend their territory through the year, and they can resort to killing other birds aggressively (depending on the bird)

Maverick - Unconventional and independent. One who shuns custom, a lone wolf, somebody who blazes their own trail, someone who avoids conformity

Well it would be interesting if her character makes a base in some territory and ends up killing somebody defending it. And I chose the last name Maverick, due to it meaning independence and usually looking out for only oneself

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Everest - Dweller on the Eure River. It also means high point, or summit. It also represents ‘the iconic nature of what it is to be a wonder’. Like the most notable climb known to man

Sinclaire - Comes from ‘Saint Claire’. It can mean pure or renowned, and light and clear. It also means one who prays

He a dweller. And is probably somebody who can walk for very long without complaining. And maybe religious or as least believing in something

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Lilith - Meaning belonging to the night. It is a feminine name for demon, spirit, and sometimes evil. On google it says it also represents: ‘rebellion, sexual liberation, independence, mystery, empowerment, resilience, transformation and the pursuit of personal freedom’

Maloret - Ill-fortuned or with bad luck. A luckless and unfortunate person

Well, Lilith was mysterious, she belonged to the night I guess. I chose the last name maloret because she seems to have bad luck. Not really having an interesting reason as compared to the other tributes. Getting to the cornucopia and still unfortunately still failing and dying (kind of because of bad luck, wrong place, wrong person, wrong time)

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Harrow - To plunder or ravish. To cause worry and upset. It is a farm implement used for surface tillage. It is dragged over plowed land to break up clods, remove weeds, and cover seed. Some synonyms of the word is agonizing, torture, harass, excruciating, smite, tease, and vex 

Prairie - A plain of grassland without many trees. It also means meadows and pastures

He definitely caused worry and upset for his love. And he did die in torment or at the very least his dead body was mistreated… But I chose the last name Prairie because it also meant meadow. Most definitions said prairie meant a peaceful, calming land of nothing much but grass. So I guess he is resting peacefully waiting for his love in the meadow

Bonus!:

Marl - A loose or crumbly earth deposit. Also known as a kind of mixed soil. Sometimes fertilizer lands to help make it healthier. It is a mix of sand, silt, and clay. And it has rock forms, sedimentary

I chose this name as a first or last (or even middle name if you already had it chosen out) for Harrow’s lover. Because a harrow was used to till land/soil and help its growth of crops. Both help the soil and land in different ways, while still being different in their ways. A more man-made tool (like a richer tool like townies) and a natural help that can be used to help but with many properties and types (I dunno why I thought of the seam for this)

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Sorry for taking so long again! Hope you enjoy reading this! And I hope you enjoy the last names :)

Gift for fav Hunger Game poster: @kald-dal-write

Also if you're a random person just seeing this, read their fic if you're interested!

[vanillaxoshi]

Thinking of body swaps

If it would be the og, kokotiam, that has more potential esp if they want to jeep it hidden

But either way, would that provide more potentiak or story/plot?? Since it would be weird to change bodies, but itd be pretty easy to adapt depending on the person, like ying><yaya, fang could be gopal, gopal could be boboiboy, and boboiboy could be fang

One easy solution is them getting their power watches back, but if they do want to keep it hidden that means theyd have to adjust to their power watches, gopal enduring personality changes and elemental powers since boi's watch is pretty complicated now, not like when it was when they were children

Fang might actually do pretty well and adapt more on the molecular manipulation and use it for other than food, Boi would struggle using Shadow and how to use them properly

Ying isnt really a fly and punch type, shes always so speedy and on the ground, can she even adapt well by that? Same goes for Yaya, Shes the fly and punch type, and not someone so speedy

I also thought if boi is able to use his power watch with fangs body, the elements will be weirded out on being within fangs body and might make comments about it(basically just annoying fang all the way)

If it was Septuplet au, the siblings swapping wont really do anything since theyre identical, its basically just swapping clothes right??? Kokotiam would swap with each other and the siblings would swap with each other, well what about the physical damage on them?

Petir in Cahaya's body

He'd pretty anxious cuz now he feels so much fatigue(how long has his brother not slept??!!!) He also cant see well.

He would experience pain and shocks from the spine and ribs for a few times

Solar power takes too much energy he cant participate often, but thats weird, he should participate in missions he needs to make sure his brothers have someone there to protect them and be there for them

Not to mention the drawbacks of using the power, which could push him back ever so often. What else can he even do for that power right now???

And people coming to him for info in Tapops, he has no idea what to say and what to do

Angin in Tanah's body

Angin is super happy he gains muscle and is able to lift more than his weight but hes never a heavy hitter

Hes more of a careless guy who would whoop around and do acrobats, hes not flexible here and everything feels more heavier, he wonders if his brother had ever taken time to relax

Hed want to take care of himself the most out of all his brothers since he thinks Tanah's body needs it.

Hes also not a strategizing person( why does he need to be the leader rn??) Hes someone who goes with flow and is unpredictable, he doesnt need to predict enemies

How does he form that golem????? He doesnt know how to move in Tanah's body and using his power

Tanah in Api's body

Everything is more warmer than usual, he finds it weird

How can he release the fire??? How can he use fire??? He's always so cautious and fire is unpredictable how can he use it??? And if theyre pretending they didnt swap he doesnt know how to be a chaotic person all the time

Fire needs to be moving, it doesnt stay stationary in one place like earth does, he cant fight rapidly as Api and it gets so hot all the time.

How does he move with fire anyways??? How can he act like api full-time when he always has been a precise person who needs to be calm. Fire cant even do what hes wanting it to do. Does he need to be angry??? Whenever hes angry the fire goes haywire he doesnt know what to do with it???

Api in Petir's body

What do you mean he needs to be fast and precise??? He doesnt know how to use swords how do you form lightning chakras??

Hed be pretty much just be chaotic being Petir(Petir would get mad at him)

Zooming around is actually pretty fun but he doesnt know how to stop or land

Lightning is actually similar to his fire but yet so different, lightning is not something you punch or kick with, its strikes at far distances and connects to one another

So he needs to be serious??? How?

Air in Angin's body

Moving with the wind seems similar to his water but no, its wild and unpredictable how do you move with wind

Its not a physical thing, how do you attack people with a gust of wind

You cant have a water bubble to sleep on :(

He finds it nice to have his right arm back ngl

As someone whos chill, and his wind becomes chill, its not as powerfull as he intends it to be

If he has to pretend, he needs to be lively?? That takes so much energy he would just want to sleep

Daun in Air's body

He doesnt like having no arm and everything feels cold he wants to be wrapped up and stay in a warm place

Hes not a long ranged shoot guy what does he do??? He doesnt have his plants to heal people or help him out what should he do with water or ice???

The water is unstable and he doesn't know where the ice should go and be

How does he move in ice, he slips everytime

If he acts like Air then that means he has to sleep all the time no? But he isnt tired

Plants have many uses and he knows how to use them to the fullest, what are water or ice's uses??? How does he use them to the fullest? Theyre not alive and they dont move on his will, he needs to fully controll them

How does he make an ice arm he doesnt like being one armed

Cahaya in Daun's body

As someone who forgets to eat, his now body reminds him more frequently than his then body and he has to take care of himself because this is Daun's body

He doesnt have his light powers to activate whenever things get dark

He needs to learn more about the different types of plants because now he has a use, plants have many uses

How does he control the plants actually?

So he needs to be naive and childish to be daun, doesnt he? Why cant they just swap clothes? Oh wait, the body differences still stand out

Plus points, nothing hurts anymore

Nevermind, the arms and hands would hurt time to time

How do you hold the vines when it literally cuts through your hands??

Hes not graceful with the plants he just isnt. He shouldnt mess this up though

[starz-saintz]

Baaabe and Sweetheart

I've mentioned before that both my Babe (Bonnie) and Sweetheart (Melanoia) were trained for a decade or so years in the BHR (bounty hunter regiment) in military school-type environments. I'd like to highlight the differences in their training grounds, mentors, fighting styles, and what they got out of it. This post is dedicated to my Sweetheart, I will be posting Babe's at a later date.

Melanoia started when she was 13. She had spent the two years before that in a mental institute in a different country because she had carved out her left eye. She was paranoid and manic. The BHR looks for unstable youth to mold into obedient soldiers, so Melanoia was a perfect candidate and was discharged from the institute and brought to another country. This would be her third and last country of residence.

Her training grounds were a large, high-tech dome called the Sanguine Desolation Institution (SDI). It is held in high regard (despite the terrible name) by the department for its teachings. The SDI would teach its children from 10 - 20 advanced academics and the ability to defend, attack, and heal. There is a ranked system with each age group based on those two subjects.

Melanoia, during all of her time there, stayed in the top 5 when it came to training and academics. Truly blowing everyone out of the water. But, that caused her to be left out socially and looked down on. She was never cocky or mean, she stayed to herself because she didn't know how to integrate into these cliches or how to communicate with the people her age.

When she was 15, she got a mentor. The SDI gives its students mentors to teach them formally how to use their magyk to their advantage. Her mentor was called DEATH, he was an older vampire and a feared bounty hunter. He taught her how to dissociate and use it to her advantage on the battlefield.

DEATH taught her to learn about her opponent and to use it to her advantage. What they are willing to do or where they frequent. To set up traps even if it means baiting or sacrificing a few pawns to do so. He also taught her to destroy her targets. To hurt them in a way that will either kill them or make it so they would never want to cross her path again. Do what it takes to win even if it means you will get hurt.

As mentioned before, DEATH is a vampire. He moves with a swiftness and that is what got him so many wins. He was quick. Strength doesn't mean anything if you can hit the target. He trained Melanoia like she was an acrobat or a gymnast. She was short, damn near emaciated, and had loose joints. She was perfect for this!

Melanoia spent all of this time away from the outside world, surrounded by instability, pain, and violence. She was taught to hone her sense of mortality and personhood in when placed in sensitive situations. She never had a lending ear, so all of her thoughts stayed inside of her. She was a walking aura of despair even if her face didn't show it.

So, when she met people in the department who would give her a lending ear or would ask to assist her, she pushed them away. She viewed worse here than in holding. She was seen as sadistic and she was thought to have taken pleasure in the hunting of criminals by how brutal and vaguely intimate she would get. This rumor wasn't made any better when she would be put on interrogator duty for the live bounties and she would cause the criminals such emotional and psychological turmoil that they would beg for relief.

She didn't take pleasure in it, but she didn't feel bad for what she did either. She was efficient and did her job. She didn't want to ease up, she needed to be faster. But, she wasn't totally unfeeling. She took a liking to some of her colleagues and would show it in her unique and quirky little ways.

[turboacek-blog]

Fans don’t know what they want: Star Wars edition

Don’t know if I’ll make this a recurring type of post but just something I always think of when watching series that’s been on for a long time from Marvel to Pokémon to Dragon Ball etc

So I finished the live-action Ahsoka show and overall I thought it was pretty solid, the thing was I have the benefit of watching most of Rebels and the Clone Wars so my connection to these characters is different from someone who’s never watched them or not a lot as this series was very much a follow-up of Rebels with the Ahsoka clone wars connection as the connecting aspect

Not going to talk too much about the show as it’s still new as I’m posting this

But one thing I kept seeing online and even since the sequel movies was that the lightsaber fights have been slow and boring etc…

And while I agree in a certain sense that they don’t look as fast as animation or the prequels

The problem is that one of the big complaints of the prequel movies was how they were using lightsabers back then

Like people hated how flashy and speedy they were swinging their lightsabers

And I think that has shaped how they have done Star Wars since episode 7/the sequels aired

The basis of the action standard has been the original trilogy and the closest real-world equivalent in sword fights

Where sword fights aren’t about the flash and the blades are mostly heavy let alone how sharp and deadly they are so when there’s a sword fight it’s not about the clashing etc It’s about if you get one hit it’s over

So ever since I’ve noticed that they treated the lightsabers more like heavier swords vs these lighter laser blades

But now whether it’s from the prequel kids and enjoyers are now more of the vocal majority or the choreography hasn’t been the best but now people are calling out that the modern lightsaber fights have been slow and boring

So fans went from don’t make the fights like the prequels to make the fights more like the prequels hence fans don't know what they want

Even if it's more than preferences and audience changes over time

For myself, I’m mixed

Like I think there’s definitely a balance, as you can say that some moments in the prequels they were spinning that deadly blade super casually, and those extra moves showed some openings making people act like oh there was the kill shot, but also light sabers aren’t swords, like lightsabers have the inherent benefit of having the clashing and being able to swing more casually given their size, cut metal and other things, and let alone using the force as an excuse for the movements

I understand the want or need for realism in products such as Star Wars it helps keep things grounded and believable but there’s also the fantasy aspect that I do think needs to be embraced more as yes the choreography of the lightsabers needs to be seen as swords so we have a concept for what’s going on but you also have to be creative with it in a way that shows a lightsaber isn’t just a glow stick sword

I think in some cases it’s a choreography thing as without spoiling too much Ahsoka herself isn’t as fast in her series compared to her in animation, part of the reason is that she’s older and they even comment on that as she’s like 50 in the show and was like 16 in the clone wars a pretty big difference but it’s also they aren’t choosing to make Ahsoka acrobatic or fast since they want Rosario Dawson to actually be the character they even have a moment showing that Ahsoka was faster when younger, and they have moments that give that sense of speed and such but mostly lightsaber fights are just sword fights now

I think there’s definitely some work around like the light trail effect of the light sabers is practically gone now and I think that added will give a better sense of speed and effect

And if you’re going to choreograph essentially a sword fight then get stunt doubles or whoever to help make it feel faster and more fluid, and have fun with camera direction to get more excitement from the critics that think it's boring

Overall it’s funny to me that people used to hate (some still do) the prequels but in terms of things like action people now would prefer that to what we have now

And I do think the rise in things like anime has raised standards for how to perceive action as there has now been some anime influence in even things like Creed 3

Not my most formatted post but oh well

[moss-flesh]

Unusual OC Appreciation!!

was tagged by @beastofmoss !! thanku!! im gonna tag @n7viper @arlathen @theharlotofferelden

of course without pressure ! only if u have time and wanna do this! and u can do however many you want <3

im gonna do my main 3 DA ocs <3 but i honestly wanna do this for my other ocs coz this is so cute!!

Aila Amell

she/her

seasoning: black pepper

weather: rainstorm

colour: blue

sky: clear night sky with stars

magic power: shes a mage but she focuses on spirit and entropy magic

house plant: violets

weapon: staff! but she also has a dagger

subject: i guess like ? if magic studies is out of the equation, than astronomy? or history?

social media: in a modern au this woman has like no technology skills at all she stays AWAY from that shit! she would have a pinterest to look up recipes!

makeup product: eyeliner or eyeshadow! womans got dark circles and she multiplies them

candy: dark chocolate

fear: accidentally blowing up at her loved ones and leaving her alone

ice cube shape: ice orb

method of long distance travel: get this woman in a carriage PLEASE she walks EVERYWHERE and HATES IT

art style: ohhhhh romanticism i think

mythological creature: KELPIE!!!! something about how she changes herself based on her surroundings ect ect water being emotional land being grounded and collected, the fight between ect ect

piece of stationary: if its modern au my girl would love a highlighter, annotating ass bitch

celestial body: constellations !! which i know is multiple but whatever, if were picking one than the moon

Erynne Hawke

she/he/they

seasoning: chili

weather: hot summer day

colour: brick red or a mauve purple

sky: burning orange sunset

magic power: babygirl is primal and force mage, she likes explody and power

house plant: algaonema

weapon: staff baby which she loves to beat people with, and their FISTS !! plus an obligatory dagger just in case

subject: FUCK SCHOOL this bitch HATES studying

social media: ifunny because theyre literally the worst

makeup product: really fucked up bad looking eyeshadow

candy: rock candy, let the man crunch

fear: getting her loved ones killed by being stupid

ice cube shape: the horrible kind u get from a shitty tray

method of long distance travel: on foot baby, if he totally has to she will ride a horse

art style: abstract expressionism

mythological creature: PHOENIX !

piece of stationary: a fucked up pencil she refuses to get rid of

celestial body: the planet mars, i will not elaborate

Adahlen Lavellan

she/they

seasoning: basil <3

weather: sunny spring day with a cool breeze

colour: shes basically all red but thats not her fave color her fave is green

sky: clear and blue

magic power: rift magic baby <3 and a touch of blood magic she prefers to keep under wraps

house plant: peace lily

weapon: staff! and a dagger just like my other mages but she never uses the dagger and uses acrobatic type skills to avoid close combat

subject: philosophy <3

social media: she is a creature who only knows how to scroll on tumblr and pinterest

makeup product: chapstick

candy: basically any candied fruit!! mostly candied oranges

fear: being a monster

ice cube shape: those rlly crunchy fluffy ones from fast food places

method of long distance travel: Halla !! or a Hart?? idk im confused about whether the dalish ride the halla theres conflicting sources

art style: impressionism !!!!

mythological creature: nymph!!! omg!!

piece of stationary: parchment that she doodles all over

celestial body: SUN !!!

heres the blank prompt!

(without breaks so u can just copy n paste)

seasoning: weather: colour: sky: magic power: house plant: weapon: subject: social media: makeup product: candy: fear: ice cube shape: method of long distance travel: art style: mythological creature: piece of stationary: celestial body:

[nami-moittli]

Uh, so, since in the azurido tag I saw a comic about Azul thinking of having a child with Riddle, I figured now would be a good time to bring up the fact that I once designed an azurido daughter (in Gacha life 2) (it’s just really easy to make designs in there, which, since it’s a dress-up game, does make sense but whatever)

Uh, so, here she is! Her name’s Trick Ashengrotto!

I wanted to go for more of a casino vibe for her, but I ended up making her look more like she belongs in a circus instead lol. I wanted a casino vibe because of Riddle’s card game motif + Azul’s shady business practices = casino vibes. But like I said, I ended up making her look more like an act in a circus. I don’t totally mind though, because she is her own person, which I feel may be easy to forget when making a ship child, at least for me.

Maybe it’s cause she’d probably end up spending a lot of time with babysitters, like the tweels or someone from Heartslabyul, as Riddle would be busy with being both a mage doctor (or whatever it was called) and a lawyer, because with Azul around, he’d definitely encourage Riddle to do both. And Azul himself would be running all the branches of Monstro (Mostro?) Lounge, so he’d be busy often, too.

They’d both try to be there as often as they could for her though!

Riddle, after seeing how easy it was to not traumatize your child:

Whatever the case, I think that both Azul and Riddle have a hard time finding a middle ground of wanting to spoil her, and making sure she’s still not too… what’s the word? Studious? That’s about right.

Cause Azul just naturally wants to spoil her, but then he remembers his own childhood and how he spent a lot of time not really working diligently on his studies or magic, and he doesn’t want his daughter to make that same mistake.

Meanwhile Riddle doesn’t want to be like his own mother and be so strict that Trick ends up like how he did, but he also wants to teach her to follow the rules and always try to be top of the class.

(Side note, I find it so interesting that Azul and Riddle had basically opposite childhoods, yet ended up becoming so similar. Love that for them <3)

Anyways, yeah. She’s also, of course, an octomer, which is why her eyes look squareish like that! Also, when I designed her, I gave her grey-purple eyes, but thinking about it, that’s not how biology works at all lmao. Unless, of course, it’s a sort of recessive gene type thing, or, alternatively, because she’s wearing colored contacts. Knowing her, it’s probably just contacts. If you’re gonna wear em, might as well look cool lol.

Yeah, she feels like she likes having fun. She feels like she’d do some sort of tap dancing or acrobatics, or both! You know Azul, after all. Trick would bring in good customers lol.

Anyways, yeah. Here she is! Might actually draw her out at some point in the future. But for now, here’s Trick!

[threewaysdivided]

Number 7 for writers ask

Meta asks for writers

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

Oh, this is an interesting one!

Kind of a challenge to answer because, to me, Writing Style is a bit like accent/dialect/speech-pattern. I know I have one, that it changes with context (the "voice" I use for Meta is different to the "voice" I use for Fic', which is different to how I type on Discord Discord!3WD is not S&P approved) and also shifts with what I've been exposed to recently, but because it's my "voice" it tends to fade into the background where I don't "hear" it as much, so to speak. It's probably easier for other people to notice the distinctive characteristics of my style than I do.

One thing that came up when I was talking with @sons-of-mars is that I tend to use details to help ground my writing in the specifics of a character or setting. When I write I look for opportunities to include little granular bits of information that would be unique to that character or the space around them; to help them feel like specific people/places rather than generic archetypes interacting with stock sets. It's something you'd probably feel more than notice outright.

To use some examples from Deathly Weapons: For Chapter 13 I looked up simple forensic methods for detecting blood because the narration was slanted towards Batman's perspective and that felt like the kind of technical tool/information a detective would have and use. For Chapter 17's sparring session I did basic research into various beginner level martial arts, because Dinah was the primary perspective character and I felt like she would have specific knowledge of different punches/kicks/fighting forms in her capacity as the Team's combat instructor. In Chapter 15 I added passing details about Wayne Manor's wallpaper, lighting, mouldings etc. - partly to flavour the text and support the tone but also because old estate houses often have a unique sense of character, grandeur and scale. The waterfall in the therapy room bubbles, Wolf wanders around Mount Justice, the Zijilker offshore rig smells like oil and salt-water... little things which help it feel like the characters are actually inhabiting the spaces around them and perceiving those surroundings through their own unique lens.

Below the cut because this is getting long, but it's probably easiest to spot in the draft comparison where they first pointed it out:

There's a later planned Deathly Weapons chapter called China and Emeralds, which has a scene of Dick doing some acrobatics on the Batcave's gymnastic rings while Danny works on a mech' project nearby.

The original "skeleton" draft of Dick's part of that scene looked like this:

Tink. Rustle. Flip. Clatter. Tack. Flip. ... Flip. ... Silence. Dick paused in his routine, catching himself easily on the rings. 

It makes a little more sense with the context of the scene before it, but overall it wasn't doing much for me. Dick is an acrobat so I felt like he should have more literacy about gymnastics than "IDK I did some flips", and the noises he's hearing don't really communicate any specifics of what's happening at Danny's bench.

For the second draft I looked up some basic calisthenics drills for gymnastic rings, and combined it with what I remembered from the industrial workshop class I took in highschool to add more details:

L-sit.  Hold for thirty seconds. Paper rustled on the other side of the cave.  A smell of warming solder. Rear-swing into back-uprise into handstand.  Hold. Metal pieces clinked as they were fit together.  A muted tinkle of one being returned to the box. Handstand press.  Ten sets, then return to hold.  Repeat. Another clink, this time more decisive.  Fingers scraped through a collection of fittings. There was a quiet sigh. Dick let his bodyweight drop, flipping back up into a somersault to take the pressure off his arms. Silence. The acrobat caught himself on the rings, peering over to the workspace on the other platform. 

The bones of the scene are the same in both but the results has different vibes. To me the second one feels more solid, like it captures a more distinct picture in the mind.

So yeah, for me a big part of writing is down to the details.

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[redhead-batgal]

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Vigilante! Reader x Jason Todd/ Red hood

Content: cursing, a claustrophobic reader, little bit of angst, some fluff and a bit of violence

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name, V/N: Vigilante Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angry wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling. Enraged, infuriated and pissed off came close but not close enough. This feeling was so strong and so vivid you could practically see it, hell you could probably taste it.

Unlike how most people describe anger, yours wasn’t a red. No it was white, an icy hot white that seemed to drench every single one of your senses. White was in the corners of your vision, It was clinging to every single sound, it was in each smell, sharp and clear. You could feel it dancing on your skin like electricity, it covered your tongue and coated your cheeks.

It was everywhere. 

And at the moment the icy white seemed to be invading your lungs and slowly turning into a dark black. Such a dark and dense color it began to be hard to breathe. You were in fact in the last place you’d like to be at the moment. Which just so happened to be locked in a closet. 

It didn’t help that you weren’t alone. While yes, being alone would mean you would have to go through it alone. Go through the feeling of all the walls closing in on you as the air gets thinner and your head begins to spin as your brain fries from panic, as your entire body began to spasm and you blacked out from hyperventilating. But at the moment you would have preferred to be alone rather then let him, see you go through all of that. It was bad enough he had seen you slip up the week before while on patrol. 

You had been patrolling with Batgirl and Black Bat, this was usually what you did. Since you didn’t get along very well with Robin, and Red Robin, well he scared you a tiny bit due to one patrol in which you saw him consume ungodly amounts of caffeine. You couldn’t keep up with Nightwing and were informed by Robin that Batman thought you talked to much. Batgirl and Black Bat seemed to to be the perfect fit.

However on the night in question you sort of wished they hadn’t been. It would have been easier to explain why you messed up and he wouldn’t be able to hold it over your head. It had been a dumb move but you were bored, patrol had been relatively quiet with Black Bat taking care of nearly any threat that appeared before you or Batgirl could even respond to the comm. Oracle had just informed the three of you to be on the look out for Penguin. He had been recently making many trips to a abandon warehouse. The three of you had been asked to make sure nothing happened. Of course you decided that divvying up assignments would be perfect so all three of you could see some action. Neither Black Bat nor Batgirl had argued so you each took an area to watch. 

It had nearly been an hour since you had spilt up. There was no action on your end. You had just begun to give up hope when

“I see Penguin,” Batgirl whispered into the comm.

Excitement coursed over your veins and you found yourself bouncing up and down, you nearly threw yourself across the rooftops so you could join Batgirl in the fight. However-

“It looks as if he’s just casing the place... somethings off. What do you say Black Bat? Is something off?” 

You didn’t want to hear that, Penguin was here, obviously something was happening more then likely it was illegal and you were itching to punch someone, Shaking your head you bounced from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

One click came over the comm from Black Bat. She, agreed with Batgirl, leaving you the odd man out... well odd woman.

“I think we should just wait for now,” Batgirl remarked.

Begrudgingly you agreed, at the moment nothing was happening and you knew that if you charged in fists swinging and weapons raised Batman would have your head. 

“Fine.” You sighed

It took you a minute but you moved yourself so that you could watch Penguin without “technically” leaving your post. Penguin stood a couple hundred feet from the door to the warehouse, surrounding him was close to twenty goons.  He appeared to be talking to them and looking at his watch, suddenly one of the goons stepped up to him and whispered in his ear. Penguin nodded and waved a hand. All of the goons including himself began to move into the warehouse. 

There were upsides and down sides to this. 

Downside number one: You couldn’t see them anymore

Downside number two: This could be a trap

However there were more upsides then down.

Upside number one: You got to move into the warehouse

Upside number two: More then likely this was some kind of deal going down and you would get to punch a dude in the face

Upside number three: You were finally gonna see some action. 

Lowering yourself into a crouch you quickly spoke into the comm.

“I’m gonna go in.” “V/N, don’t. Something about this doesn’t seem right.” 

“I’ll be fine, besides how else are we supposed to see what’s going on?” 

There wasn’t a reply, though your weren’t really paying attention close enough to notice. You had begun bounding your way towards an open window you had spotted earlier while scanning the perimeter of the building. You vaulted in through the window just barely making it; internally you thanked Nightwing for insisting upon doing acrobatics for part of your training and made a mental note to ask him for some more lessons later. 

The warehouse wasn’t completely empty, it had two levels, the top was covered in boxes filled with packing peanuts. You briefly remembered Red Robin saying something about this place being owned by a former packing company, however at the time you weren’t really paying attention. In your defense Red Robin, at the time, had an mini army of at least fifty cups of empty coffee at his feet. 

Creeping past the boxes you settled yourself in between two large ones watching at Penguin and his goons stood in the middle of the room. 

“Where is he boss? Didn’t he say he’d be here?” One of the goons asked with a slight sneer.

Another rolled his eyes and scoffed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show, would make the boss look like an even bigger idiot.”

Penguin shot the man a look then he raised his umbrella, opened it slightly and a gunshot rang out. The goon fell down dead, a tense feeling came over you however, instead of jumping down and trying to apprehend him you stayed where you were. Someone else was coming, you may be impulsive at times but you weren’t a complete idiot. 

It wasn’t long before you heard doors open, it hadn’t occurred to you that the comms might not be working, you just thought that Black Bat and Batgirl were just either hiding as well somewhere in the warehouse or were waiting for you to say something. 

You can’t say that you weren’t surprised when you saw him. As far as you heard he was going straight, hell you where then when he told Batman himself that he was going to follow the Bat rules. You wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did, but seeing Red Hood walk into the warehouse stopping just before the center felt like someone shot you. 

He was alone and you could tell from his body language that this wasn’t exactly a friendly meeting, that and the fact that all of Penguin’s goons drew there weapons at the sight of him. 

“You rang?” Red Hood remarked.

Penguin narrowed his eyes and looked Red Hood over. He lowered his umbrella and took a step forwards.

“You came alone?”

“Does it look like I have backup?” 

Penguin didn’t reply, he just looked up and began to look around the second floor. For a moment you thought he spotted you, but he kept scanning the floor. After looking it all over he looked back to Red Hood, then remarked, 

“Search it.”  

Your stomach dropped and you knew you had to get out of there, normally you wouldn’t mind jumping into a fight, but Red Hood’s business was his own. No matter how much it hurt and no matter how much you wanted to know, it was none of your business. 

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet you waited until Penguin’s goons began to climb the stairs. Turning to go back the way you came you found yourself face to face with Scarecrow. 

Of course it just had to be Scarecrow, the one villain who had a toxin that could leave nearly everyone incapacitated. 

“Shit.”

Scarecrow laughed slightly remarking, “What do we have here?”

The next thing you knew something was being sprayed in your face. Instinctively you backed away from the liquid coming at you. Taking four steps back you suddenly noticed that the ground wasn’t beneath your foot anymore. Then you stumbled backwards and began to fall. 

After that everything was a blur, you faintly remember hearing Red Hood shout,

“Damn it.”  

Before everything disappeared and the nightmares took over. You awoke the next morning only to discover that had it not been for Red Hood you would have died. A rookie mistake, Scarecrow had snuck past into the warehouse as you were watching Penguin. Had you been paying attention to your surroundings instead of trying to find a reason to jump into the fight, you wouldn’t have been caught so off guard. 

Not paying attention to your surroundings also got you into the mess you were currently in. 

You, had been avoiding him, Red Hood- Jason Todd ,for the past few days. Not only was it embarrassing that you made such a dumb mistake but, the fact that you had to be rescued got under your skin. You prided yourself on not being a damsel in distress yet it seemed that you had times where you were one. It didn’t help that you felt violently angry at him, he was supposed to be going straight and yet he was meeting up with Penguin and Scarecrow. Every time you saw him you turned and nearly ran in the either direction. It had been working just fine until this evening.

You had been in the library of Wayne manor, grabbing a book off the shelf when Jason came in. Seeing him you felt a sharp spark of white anger, however instead of acknowledging his presence you decided to ignore him. A poor choice really, a petty one, and at the moment you didn’t care. 

You began to browse the shelves when you spotted him moving towards you. Continuing to ignore him you moved down the aisle. He followed and you turned sharply moving into the next aisle. 

“Y/N.”

You almost looked up, you almost blew it, however after many months of ignoring a persistent Tim Drake and an even more persistent Damian Wayne, you learned how to ignore someone when they called your name. 

Moving down the aisle towards the back of the library, you should have noticed Tim loitering in the corner and Dick at the very end of the last aisle. But you didn’t, you were too keen on keeping away from Jason.

“Y/N, are you seriously avoiding me?” 

You couldn’t keep it together, every fiber of your being wanted to shout YES, Yes! of course. Why wouldn’t you be avoiding him, you were angry with him, so very righteously angry... or so you thought. 

You made it to the end of the aisle and you stopped, had you been paying attention you would have noticed the open door just behind you and how Tim was right behind Jason as he got closer. You went to leave, to move to yet another aisle when Dick moved into your path. 

You side-stepped in a hope to slip past him but he followed you. Letting out a frustrated grunt you gave him a slight glare. 

“Move Dick, I need to get pass.” 

“Sorry Y/N, but no.” 

You blinked and raised an eyebrow in confusion, Dick took a step forwards and took the books from your arms. You opened your mouth to shout protests when he shoved you straight into the room behind you. Your back bounced against the wall and your stomach flipped as you realized it was a closet. A second later you saw Jason stumbling towards you. 

It seemed that he too got shoved into the closet, he slammed into you and you once again hit the back wall. The door slammed shut and you heard a faint click. Your stomach dropped and suddenly everything was dark. 

“You two,” Dick remarked from the other side of the door, “are going to make up and you are not coming out of there until you do.” 

You felt Jason pull away from you and then heard quiet cursing's. A light flickered on and you saw how small the room was, it was just the two of you alone together in a very tiny room. All the air went from your lungs and it began. You sank to the ground as the world around you began to spin. 

Instantly Jason was sitting across from you not fully seeming to understand you were having a panic attack. And that lead up to this moment the anger was being taken over by the panic. Your hands were shaking and you eyes closed, you could feel his gaze on you as you tried to steady your breathing. But everything was spinning and the enclosing walls followed you, dancing on your eyelids as you felt your empty stomach revolt against you. Had you eaten something you would probably be hurling it up. Instead your entire body shook as you pushed back dry-heaving's. 

Clenching your fists you let your nails dig into your skin trying your hardest to let the pain yank you out of the attack. But as your palms became slick with blood nothing happened. Opening your eyes you felt a fierce wave of panic come over you as you frantically looked around, trying your hardest to find your way out. 

You wanted to lunged towards the door, but you were stuck. The room was so small, you could feel Jason’s legs pressed against yours, your heart began to beat erratically and you swung a bleeding fist towards the door. Weakly banging against it you wanted to cry out but the words caught in your throat. So you decided to try and bang your fist against any and every thing you could, starting with the walls that seemed to be getting closer and closer with every breath. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart calm down,” Jason remarked grabbing onto your wrist. 

You shook your head feeling tears beginning to form in your eyes, hands shaking even harder you felt your entire body begin to shutter. Squeezing your eyes shut you choked back sobs. Pressing your fists your eyes you tried to force back the tears. A heavy feeling cloaked your lungs and it felt as though you were trying to swallow a brick. 

You felt hands on your wrists, gently pulling them away from your face. Your eyes flew open and you began to once again look around erratically.

“Hey,” Jason said softly, “hey Y/N, look at me. Hey look at me, Y/N.” 

You forced yourself to focus on Jason, he locked gazes with you and then you tried to continue to look for a way out.

“Eyes on me doll,” He stated and you looked back at him, “that’s it, Atta-girl. Now breathe with me, innnnn and outtt.” 

He slowly began to breath and you took a deep breath in keeping your eyes on him, then let it out. Jason nodded and you breathed with him for a little while, slowly calming down ever so slightly. Still shaking however much calmer, he let go of your wrists and you clench your fists again. 

“Your safe, don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get us out of here alright?” 

At first you didn’t respond, then Jason pressed his forehead against yours and you could see his eyes, you were closer then you’ve ever been before. They were a pretty color, a greenish-blue, though at the moment they looked more green then blue. You also noticed how he had very light freckles across his cheekbones. If you weren’t freaking out you would have blushed, been embarrassed by how close he was, you would have probably taken a mental note about the freckles and how beautiful his eyes were. However, all you could think about was how small the room was. 

Very gently touching your forearms, Jason stared you dead in the eyes.  “Alright?”

You could only nod and grab onto his shirt in return. He blinked for a moment before his hand was off of your arm and around your waist. 

“Is this-”

You nodded once again before he could finish his question, he pulled you in closer, your legs squishing against each others as you pressed you head against his chest and closed you eyes. All you wanted was to get out of there, to be able to breathe and stop panicking. You felt Jason pull you into his lap and then he began banging on the door. 

“I swear to fuck that if you to dumbasses don’t open up this damn door I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” 

You could hear Tim and Dick quietly talking on the other side of the door. Probably contemplating whether or not they should open up. Merely thinking about the door make your heart pick up pace again and your restarted breathing quickly. Jason hesitated before he banged on the door again shouting,

“If you don’t open this door right fucking now, I’m going to break it down.” 

You heard cursing coming from the other side of the door and then a click, your eyes flew open and you watched as the door swung open. Lunging forwards you tumbled out of the closet. Air filled your lungs but you didn't stop there. No, you scrambled to your feet and went barreling out of the library down the stairs and out the door. Once you made it outside you took a deep breath in, fresh air sharply stung your lungs and you nearly collapsed into the grass crying with relief. 

It had been a lesson of sorts for you, learn to watch your surroundings... and don’t assume things. You didn’t exactly know what was going on at the warehouse but you did know that despite your previous disbelief, you believed Jason. He was going straight now, staying clean and following Bruce’s rules. Because there was no way he could be nice enough to help you through a panic attack, get you out of a closet and... save your life all while being bad and killing people. 

Though you’d never admit it, you might be a little biased, after all you might have a teeny, tiny, eensy-weensy little crush on him. It didn’t help that you found yourself wanting to spend more time with him, of course it wouldn’t be locked in a closet but... it wasn’t so bad. Being alone together. 

Blinking you lay down on the grass staring up at the sky, there were no walls here to come in on you, nothing really to suffocate you. Closing your eyes you took in deep breaths and let them out. You heard the sound of a door opening and the grass crunching slightly. Opening your eyes you saw Jason standing above you.

“You okay?”

“Much better now, thank you.” You replied taking in yet another breath

He nodded and looked as if he were about to turn and go when he let out a sigh. Closing your eyes you waited to hear the sound of him leaving, it never happened. Peeking an eye open you found him staring at you.

“You know Penguin asked to meet with me that night. He said it was a peace meeting… turns out he and Scarecrow planned to ambush me.”

You blinked in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you saw him in the warehouse and as far as you were concerned everyone thought he just swooped in and rescued you. Something you suddenly realized he was doing a lot of. Why was he explaining what happened to you.

“You didn’t have to tell me that,” You began as you gave him a confused look, “it’s not really my business.”

Jason shrugged then rubbed the back of his head. Nodding he remarked,

“Yeah, but I just thought you should know I am going straight. Following the old man’s rules and all.”

This only confused you more.

“Why? I didn’t tell anyone that you were meeting Penguin, and I wasn’t planning on it.”

Jason shrugged as he turned to leave, pausing for a moment he sighed.

“I don’t know doll, I just don’t like the idea of you seeing me as a bad guy.”

A weird feeling began in your chest, it wasn’t like butterflies or any kind of fluttery things. It was a warm and soft kind of feeling.

Smiling up at him you rolled your eyes and said,

“Well Jason Todd, I could never see you as a bad guy.”

He blinked and then smiled back shaking his head.

“That makes me very happy, Y/N L/N.”

With that he walked away and the warm feeling began to spread from your chest throughout your entire body all the way down to your toes and up to your ears.

It seemed it wasn’t as small of a crush as you wanted to believe. Feeling a slight blush begin on your cheeks, you covered your face as you realized being alone with him wouldn’t be so bad. As long as you were alone together

[scattered-winter]

So the last two posts about the Batfam and health have made me think about how they would stretch and relax after a hard day of crimefighting.

Recovery is really important for people who are very physically active, because their muscles are doing all this hard work, and they need time to unwind and recover from that. Recovery days are just as important as workout days, even if they seem like they don’t do much for you. I’ve been thinking about how the Batfam would spend their recovery days, so please accept this senseless drabble <3

Bruce

He’s been doing this a long time, and he knows what works for him. He’s also considerably older than the other vigilantes in his city, so Bruce stretches out his muscles very slowly and gently. He’s moderately flexible; not like Dick, but he isn’t stiff, either. He can touch his toes without bending his knees, and if he stretches and warms up first, he can touch the ground, too. Maybe he does some arm swings or torso twists, to stay loose, but nothing extreme.

Since Bruce wouldn’t know “relaxation” if it bit him on the ass, he usually spends his recovery days in the office, looking over cases while putting ice or athletic tape on sore muscles.

Dick

He’s the most flexible person in the family, and of course he loves to flaunt that. He doesn’t just touch his toes, he can place his palms flat on the ground. Behind his ankles. And he does it All. The. Time. Dick does his stretching while watching TV or something else where he can just sit and stretch out without having to move much. Jason walks in the room and Dick’s just laying on the floor in the most complicated yoga pose like “..’sup.” He also likes to hang upside down from the chandelier in the main room at the manor and go through his acrobatic stretching routine

When he’s not stretching, Dick is either taking a nap or taking Haley out for a walk or light jog. Something to get his blood pumping, but nothing that’ll really make him dig deep.

Jason

He’s not flexible At All. Jason’s workout routines and fighting styles are more of the heavy-lifting muscle-type stuff, so what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up for in raw power. He can’t touch his toes (Dick teases him ENDLESSLY) but he does like yoga. He’s not super great at it, but it helps him stretch out and relax when all else fails

When he’s not stretching, he’s rolling out his muscles and taping them when needed. Jason’s also very fond of chocolate milk.

Tim

He’s very meticulous about his recovery days. He knows what stretches are best for him, and he’s pretty flexible, too. Tim can 100% touch his toes, and he’s trying to get flexible enough to touch the ground, too. Tim also likes yoga, but he does it more as his time to be by himself and think than to actually stretch out. He doesn’t really do yoga with people, except Cass, but they just kinda vibe in silence. She does her thing and he does his, and they’re great

When he isn’t stretching out, he’s looking over cases with Bruce. He’ll always have some kind of sports drink with him, and he and Bruce will just hang out together

Damian

He’s probably one of the most flexible people in the family. Not on Dick’s level, but he’s pretty damn close. Damian can easily place his palms flat on the ground, and he sometimes stretches out with Dick while they watch TV together. Dick’s been getting him into animated shows like Avatar the Last Airbender. (Damian pretends to hate it but he’s secretly completely obsessed. He wants a space sword And a boomerang now).

When he isn’t stretching out or taking care of his body, he’s painting or drawing. Sometimes he dips his bare feet in paint and just walks across the canvas. Once in a while he gets out his charcoal and accidentally smudges it all over his hands and face so he looks like a kid dressing up as a commando soldier for Halloween. (I just have a lot of emotions about Damian and art okay)

Cassandra

She’s the second most flexible. The only person more flexible than her is Dick. They have flexibility contests for shits and giggles. Cass also just stretches out Anywhere. Y’all know that part in B99 when Rosa Diaz is just casually doing yoga poses in the weirdest spots? Like on top of shelves? And inside closets? Yeah. That’s Cass. She scared the shit out of Tim once when he was coming downstairs in the middle of the night for a drink of water. She was in the pigeon pose on top of the fridge. (Tim: *filling up a glass of water*  Cass: hey Tim: *screaming*)

When she isn’t taking care of her muscles and body, Cass is chilling with Tim. While he’s doing yoga, she’s just watching bad action movies and judging the special effects and fighting choreography

I might do another post like this later. Idk. I’m currently having a lot of fun looking at superheroes and vigilantes through the lens of an athlete, and thinking about what they would need to do to keep their bodies at their best

[ilikekidsshows]

@yueasuka​: Thank you very much for the great analysis! It's cover my about-to-be-a-question as well when it come to the Kwami swap in long term between Marinette and Adrien. And if you don't mind me asking, I see you said that Marinette prefer a long-range combat style rather than close one like Adrien, even as Lady Noire, do you think this is because she's physically weaker than Adrien or is it because she's too used to be the long-range fighter as Ladybug? :o

It’s hard to measure the respective physical strength of Ladybug and Cat Noir, because we don’t really see them doing the same physical feats as each other all that often. We don’t know if Adrien can wrestle someone onto the ground as effectively as Marinette did to Prime Queen, and neither can we know if Marinette could go hand-to-hand with a swordsman like Adrien because she doesn’t have enough fencing experience for trying that to be wise. Even their transport styles are different, with Marinette’s yo-yo functioning like Spider-Man’s web slinging, while Adrien basically pole vaults over everything and very rarely uses his baton as a propeller for flight.

We can’t even tell whether or not Ladybug could tank a hit from an enemy the way Cat Noir does, because Cat Noir is so set on making sure that he’s between Ladybug and the Akuma to take those hits for her. He could be doing this because he is physically stronger and more durable, like Wolverine usually does in an X-Men team, or he could be doing it simply because they can’t risk it, with Ladybug’s purification and healing powers being essential to winning a battle.

However, I can say this for sure. Cat Noir’s more unique ways of moving, like doing a barrel roll mid-jump and consistently catching his partner without falling, do have power behind them, while Ladybug’s more unique ways of moving consist of very acrobatic stuff, like twisting herself around an obstacle in fights and while parkouring on rooftops. Marinette’s way of moving does require strength, but it’s a different kind of strength from Cat Noir’s, like how different professional atheletes build up muscle differently based on what muscle groups are under the most strain. A master gymnast can’t really compete in a log-throwing contest, nor can a lumberjack do as well in gymnastics.

Their respective transformation sequences emphasize this greatly, in the segment where they get ready for their final pose. This segment is actually very symbolic of their respective battle styles.

Marinette’s starting pose is focused on flexibility, stretching her leg as far up as it can go will help put more force behind it with leverage (like her yo-yo or an extended baton also use leverage) as she brings it down, landing into her power pose. Meanwhile, Adrien’s crouched pose emphasizes his muscles and his strength comes from his own body, since he pushes upward to slash with his claws, fighting against gravity instead of using it as additional force behind his attack. Even the way the final sequence progresses emphasizes Adrien’s staying power in a fight, with him slashing with his claws repeatedly and ending with a pose that implies he’s ready to go again, while Marinette’s sequence has the single strike and finishes with her standing confidently but with an open stance. She doesn’t have another strike ready because, in the ideal fight scenario, she’d have enough distance to her opponent to carefully prepare another strike.

In terms of character design, while in Miraculous the character standard is “stringy”, Cat Noir is noticeably bulkier than Ladybug, so he would have more natural strength. Marinette’s smaller stature and more jumpy nature are also good reasons to keep her distance to enermies in addition to that being her usual battle style. Marinette tends to look a bit more freaked out when an Akuma is right in her face, so there could be a physical intimidation factor there.

It’s likely a mixture of both. Some things about the differences between Ladybug and Cat Noir imply he’s stronger in terms of durability and striking strength, so the types of strength used in hand-to-hand, but Marinette usually makes up for that with the usage of leverage I brought up. Marinette is also wary of fighting closely with Akumas because she has so little experience of such encounters and she’s not getting experience of brawling with Akumas because she’s too wary of getting close. More experience might make Marinette more confident and build up her striking srength and endurance, but it could also be that she’d never get used to close quarters combat. It’s intense, and not everybody’s personality suits such a style.

[morrpeko]

i’ve had Donatella Aquato on the brain lately, lads. 

a big issue i (and a lot of others) have with Donatella is how passive aggressive and guilt-trippy she is towards Raz. And how it’s just kind of... played off? which is fucked up 

so here are some hcs/concepts for some Donatella lore/character development for your consideration

(contains spoilers for the whole Psychonauts franchise)

aight so first things first: i want Hollis and Donatella to reconcile. I picture them going to the bowling alley and having some drinks and just kind of bickering the first time but as time goes on they just start vibing and going out for drinks more often (sometimes Milla will join too!)

they’re all friends your honor. its not a picture-perfect friendship; they don’t always agree and at times things can get a bit heated and they argue but they balance each other out. 

Hollis enjoys the occasional Aquato-brand whimsy and acknowledges Dona’s skill as an acrobat/athlete while Dona really admires Hollis’ more grounded demeanor and her leadership skills. she’s also grateful that this person who she sees as level-headed and a good leader is one of the people who’s looking out for Raz and helping him in areas (i.e. irt psychic stuff) that she herself cannot

i think a little while post-psychonauts 2 Hollis approaches Donatella with an offer of being a pseudo-instructor for physical education for the junior agents (and maybe the senior agents too-- the ones that aren’t too stuck up/prideful, that is) 

and Donatella’s like “well don’t expect me to give away any family secrets but i can help you stretch these children; i’ve done it like 5 times already i’m basically an expert”

P.E. instructor Donatella arc is basically what i’m getting at here like think of the potential for goofs. think of the junior agents thinking they’re hot shit only to get dunked on by a gaggle of gangly acrobats who’re like “god you can’t just do a backflip? it’s so easy what the hell”

as for how her treatment of Raz gets addressed:

it doesn’t happen immediately; it takes a lot of conversations with Hollis and Milla for her to start thinking “hm. maybe the things i’ve said to my 10 year old son about how he ‘betrayed’ us after he fuckin ran away bc he was unhappy and thought we’d hate him if he flat out told us he was psychic are not that great actually”

i think a pivotal moment would be Hollis opening up a little (and I mean a little itsy-bitsy teeny-weenie little bit) about her strained relationship with her family for Donatella to start to have that ‘oh no. what have i done’ moment that Augustus has during the first game

that line from the maternity ward in Hollis’ mind; the one from the parents that are like “when will (this baby) achieve our unfulfilled ambitions?” really sticks out to me. i think Hollis and Dona being able to relate to that in the sense that their parents wanted to live vicariously through their children and their children’s achievements would be real cool

i like to imagine that Donatella was a gymnast before she met Augustus. her mother was one of those moms that push their kids really hard in sports/pageants/etc so they can swoop in and share in the glory without really doing anything

so Dona had to put up with having that type of mom her whole life. her mother was very strict and controlling in all aspects of her life-- she wasn’t allowed to wear make-up, she couldn’t eat certain things-- it was uber fucked up and she hated it, but she also put up with it because it’s her mother 

until she gets injured and sidelined during training for a competition. Dona’s mom rips into her for getting hurt (which is awful bc she was more pissed that Dona couldn’t compete than she was concerned bc her daughter got injured) and they get into a massive fight that ends up with Dona leaving the house despite her injuries bc she’s just so pissed

the Aquato family circus also happened to be in town so heh... u know.... funny how these things work out huh

When Dona meets Augustus they don’t go from strangers to madly-in-love like instantly. in morrpeko’s house we don’t do ‘love-at-first-sight’ tropes; we need history. we need to fan the embers before they burst into flames my friends

so over the course of a season (spring-summer probably) they become friends. they bond over... gymnastics and acrobatics and stuff. everything’s going great until the Aquato’s are getting ready to leave

both Dona and Augustus are kind of devastated bc they were best friends by this point!! they don’t want to say goodbye, but they’re young and have no other choice.

so they part ways and it’s real sad

.......until next spring/summer when the circus comes back into town!!!

and they’re so happy to see each other again! they make up for lost time and hang out all the time! and Augustus is thrilled bc he thought she would’ve forgotten about him by now and Dona missed Augustus bc they were partners in crime, and she like the circus and all the performers there! everyone was nice and they just seemed to be good to each other like a big family and Dona’s like “god i wish that were me”

cut to the Aquatos leaving for the second time; Augustus and all the other performers and Nona promising to be back next spring/summer

and Dona finds herself wishing she could go with them, but she doesn’t. and she has to spend the next half a year tolerating her overbearing mother and her stupid rules and how she would take credit for everything her daughter did like she wasn’t even there.

those months alone made Donatella realize how unhappy she was. and her coming to the realization that she doesn’t want to keep being miserable and she might want to be an acrobat. so she makes the mistake of telling her mother

and her mother is livid. she shuts her down and guilt-trips and manipulates the shit out of her, and by this point Dona knows that her mother doesn’t care about her being happy, she just cares about what she achieves and flaunts her like a trophy

so she makes a decision. a  decision that frightens and excites her in equal measure, and she just gets more resolute as spring/summer approaches 

and the next time the Aquatos leave, she’s going with them, damn it! she’s taking charge of her own happiness. and even though it hurt back then, and it still hurts now, now that Dona is a lot older and has a family of her own, she doesn’t regret it

but when she realizes that Raz might’ve felt as awful as she did when she chose to leave? that he made the decision to run away because he was miserable and unhappy? that Dona might’ve unconsciously been saying the same kind of shit that her mother said to her? she’s devastated

she’s mad at herself and she just wants to undo all the awful things she’s ever said but she can’t. because you can’t change the past and you can’t just magically fix everything. so once she gets her shit together she starts pulling her kids aside and apologizing. promising to do better by them and vowing to not lie or hide things anymore

and that’s all i got cause this entire thing has been a big stream of consciousness 

thanks for reading 

[butwhyduh]

Baby bird

Reverse Robin au with Tim first and he goes by Batboy instead of Robin. I’m gonna change all of their ages and order and they are all closer in age.

Tim-16

Jason-12

Dick-8

Damian-8

Summary: Tim goes to the circus with his parents.

Warning: death, prejudice against dick, and possible hint of sexual harassment of Tim but nothing obvious.

It was supposed to be a nice family trip to the circus. 16 year old Tim Drake went with his parents Jack and Janet. He noted Bruce Wayne was across the tent on a date. Tim pretended to not notice him. Batman and Batboy were secret number one; even when they were arguing something terrible and Tim spent more time at Mount Justice than the Batcave.

Jack had bought Tim a cotton candy and soda and ruffled his hair like he was 5 but Tim honestly could care less because it was the first time in 3 years he was around both his mom and dad. So Tim put on a happy smile and even allowed his parents to meet the performers. 10-12 years ago this activity would have had him almost in tears in joy.

Tim instead politely shook the hand of the young boy with a European accent he couldn’t quite place. His black wavy thick hair and blue eyes with freckles tan skin made tiny little Dick Grayson the star of the show before the circus even started and the way he grinned and bowed for the audience, he certainly knew it.

“I’ll do a flip just for you,” he said pointing at Tim who sputtered a thanks and turned red while the crowd laughed. This family trip was starting to turn mortifying for the teen. If his friends ever found out about this… he shuddered at the thought.

Tim sat on the mid riser seats in the huge circular tent. 3 rings were on the floor and all kind of manner of ropes and wires hung from above. He couldn’t imagine the work and precision needed to set it up. He recognized some of the rope types and knots used. These people knew their stuff.

“Looking up to the sky? The show is down here,” Jack said with a sarcastic smile “waiting on that kid to flip for you?”

“No, shut up,” Tim said without thinking. Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him straight in the seat.

“Don’t miss the show I paid for you,” he said through gritted teeth. Tim clenched his fist so tight he almost broke skin while reminding himself he can’t knock the block off his father. Tim Drake has no reason to know how to land a punch. They weren’t exactly getting along either.

Instead Tim watched as a beautiful woman performed acrobatics on the back of a horse, a sad clown juggled bowling pins, and a strong man picked up both the acrobat and clown as well as a member of the audience to raucous cheering. It was fascinating, he was willing to admit.

Finally the stars of the show. The lights dimmed and the music from the small band in the corner turned tense. A spotlight shone on a single man. He was a sinewy well built handsome man in a baby blue suit that stood on top of trapeze stand. He had one arm gently outreached and skyward. His smile was like lightning.

The announcer called out “The Flying Graysons!”

The man bowed. Another spotlight showed a woman in a matching blue suit with a skirt attached. She also had a million watt smile and bowed for the crowd. A third spotlight landed on the final member of the trio. Dick Grayson stood proud and bowed and the crowd Ooh and aww at him. He was absolutely a doll in his matching blue outfit. He grinned brightly and Tim would swear he saw a missing tooth that just added to the cuteness.

John Grayson grabbed a trapeze swing that was hung near to his post and swung out with the bar gripped inside his strong hands. He swung a few times before flipping his feet over the bar ending with his head facing the ground and knees locked around the bar. The crowd gasped as he swung with just his upper body. You could see his amazing flexibility and athleticism.

Mary sat on her swing and swung a few times before standing up on the bar. John swung himself to sit on his bar. Dick was bobbing his head and obviously keeping count of some sort of timing, Tim assumed. John and Mary both flipped to hold on to the bar with the back of their knees at the same time and the crowd gasped once again. Dick unhooked his bar.

A few swings and John and Mary stretched their backs toward each other and he grasped her firmly around the wrist. Just as her legs released her bar and her weight was now being held by John, a horrifying snap could be heard.

Dick’s blood curdled and he stared in horror as one side of his father’s rope splintered and broke and both of his parents fell towards the ground. He didn’t notice the screams as they landed bodily on the ground. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t hardly breath. His world was gone.

Tim was also froze. He didn’t know what to do. People had started crying out and the security quickly came between the Grayson’s and the crowd. Tim was too busy staring at the broken body of the pair to notice that Bruce had excused himself. The Grayson’s hands still touched and they seemed to gaze at each other even in death.

Another performer climbed up and helped Dick down. He was in a daze. The blood pounded in Dick’s ears and he couldn’t tell you what a single person said that day. He just remembers standing over their dead body with tears falling involuntarily. A hand on his shoulder had him turning and behind him was Batman. The man wrapped a blanket around his shoulder and guided him to the open arms of another performer. She pressed the boy close to her chest and he sobbed.

“Move,” Jack Drake had told Tim. “Get up,” he said, shaking the teen’s shoulder. Tim stood and numbly followed the crowd. He had certainly seen a lot as Batboy but it was one thing to see horrible things while being a vigilante and another to see a tragedy at the circus.

3 weeks later

Bruce Wayne fosters tragic Circus Orphan

The headline in every major paper in the eastern seaboard read. It was talked about in tv and online. And Tim wasn’t jealous. It would be ridiculous. He had both of his parents. He didn’t need to be fostered. He had parents.

It didn’t stop him from avoiding the manor for a few weeks, only showing his face in the Batcave before patrol. Bruce noticed the change but didn’t comment. Tim would soon learn that batman work and Bruce’s home life were completely separate. The 8 year old never needed to know that about Batman.

A few weeks later and Tim was working as Batboy when he almost got hurt. The riddler had set a trap that Bruce almost didn’t solve. Tim was tied to a chair as water slowly rose. Above his head was a metal stake attached to electricity that would electrocute Tim if he didn’t drown first. Bruce’s hands almost trembled as he untied Batboy. The water made it to his chin before Bruce solved the puzzle. Tim was sputtering water near the end.

Back at the Batcave, Bruce had Alfred fuss over the teen far more than usual.

“Alf, I don’t have a fever,” Tim said pulling away from the butler.

“Tim, I need to speak to you,” Bruce said sitting down and it reminded Tim of the way his parents told him his dog died when he was a kid.

“What’s up?”

Bruce sighed. “Alright, chum. I don’t think you should be going out anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Tim asked. “Nothing happened to me.”

“It’s not safe. You could have died today. Go to college, get a girlfriend, go be a kid,” Bruce said and he stood up to leave.

“Are you kidding me? You’re firing me? From Batboy? I made this name,” Tim protested. He started to stand up.

“It’s not up for argument. Turn in your suit,” Bruce said before leaving the cave. Tim stared at him. The black and grey suit was something Tim designed. It was nothing without him. What was Bruce even thinking?

“Is he serious? I didn’t even get hurt,” Tim said to Alfred.

“I’m not sure, sir. Bruce is as always, a very private person,” Alfred said. He sat the tray he was holding down and walked out of the cave leaving Tim alone. Tim felt hollow. He had spent years as Batboy. What would he do now? He went to Mount justice hoping to hang out with his YJ buddies.

——————————

Dick was nervous. His first gala as Bruce Wayne’s ward. What would he do? Charming people from the big top with a flip was different than speaking to people in English, his 3rd language. Dick wanted to kill his accent some times and other keep it forever as a way to honor his parents. That’s how John and Mary Grayson sounded. He still cried at night alone in his bed. Sometimes Bruce would catch him and hug him as he cried.

Dick adjusted his tie. He wore suits all the time but they were beautifully colored and didn’t restrict his movements. No ties and certainly no shoulder pads that would prevent full extension. He sat on the island in the kitchen and munched on an apple as Alfred worked. Alfred handed him a potato.

“Sir, if you would be so kind to peel this,” he said and carefully showed Dick how to peel a potato for the light meal the Wayne’s usually ate before galas. Dick liked Alfred. The man carefully enunciated his words so Dick could comprehend him. He tried to avoid slang or confusing language. And he even tried to make some of Dick’s favorite food.

Dick quickly peeled a dozen potatoes as Alfred busied himself around the kitchen.

“Oh dear, that is quite a few potatoes. We can always have extra,” Alfred said with a little laugh. Dick smiled sheepishly. “Well Master Wayne does like French fries. I suppose I can keep these on ice water and make them tonight..”

“We always had big meals for a bunch of people. I forget it’s just us,” Dick said and Alfred nodded. He never interrupted Dick when he talked about the circus but kept a careful memory of what the boy said. Alfred was just glad he was doing better than Bruce was at that age.

“How come Tim doesn’t come around to work with Bruce at night anymore?” Dick asked and Alfred almost dropped an antique bone China cream saucer on the floor. Alfred turned with a pleasant mask in his face.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You know, when Bruce dresses up like a bat and beats up punks,” Dick answered like it was obvious. “The news calls him… man bat?” Dick struggled with the words.

“Batman. How long have you known?” Alfred asked, sitting the dish down just in case he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“For a moon,” Dick answered. He wasn’t bothered and Alfred supposed it wasn’t a surprise to the boy. His parents were world renowned acrobats so being Batman’s ward wasn’t a big deal.

“A month?”

“… yes,” Dick said after a moments hesitation. English wasn’t perfect for him. Alfred was helping him but there was stuff he didn’t know yet.

“Well then you know that it’s very important we keep it a secret or else Master Bruce could be in danger,” Alfred said.

“From punks,” Dick said in an adorable serious voice.

“Precisely. Now run upstairs and put on your shoes. I’ll pack you a snack before you leave,” Alfred shooed the boy out of the kitchen. Dick scrambled up the stairs 2 at a time and Alfred watched serenely until Dick left the area. Then Alfred furiously called Bruce and told him of the situation. They both went back and forth on whether to allow Dick to go to the gala at all but they had already informed the media and Dick was so looking forward to it. Not to mention, Dick had kept it all to himself for a whole month.

Bruce watched his young ward precariously carry a very full glass of pink punch from across the room as he spoke to some bore about investment banking. Couldn’t Lucius deal with this? Bruce had learned so much about patience but when they talk about percentage of pennies, his eyes glaze over.

“Aren’t you a doll,” one women cooed. She was tall and very thin and Dick kept staring at the way her eyelashes clung together with black makeup that resembled spiders.

“Hello,” he said in his best intimidation of Tim’s accent. Tim spoke proper English, like Bruce.

“Are you in school, young man,” she asked.

“I will in the fall,” he said softly but the w got him and it sounded softer, almost like a v. Most people wouldn’t even notice, much less care. You had to be a real jerk to make a fuss over a single letter.

“Oh,” her tone changed and she had been crouching near him but pulled back. “You really are from the circus. You need to speak English here,” she said sternly. Dick almost clenched the cup in two. He had seen people talk to his father like that before.

“But I am,” he said weakly, the accent bleeding into his voice. She laughed.

“Bruce really dug in the peanut barrel for this one,” she said with a mean laugh and Dick blinked before taking a step back.

“Hello,” Tim said beside her. He didn’t speak to Bruce much in the last few months after being fired but he wasn’t going to let the kid be insulted.

“Mr Drake,” she said brushing her skirt off as if Dick had somehow dirtied it. “How are you? You look good this evening,” she asked while batting her eyes. Tim looked at her and tried to hold back his disgust. He was sixteen for goodness sake.

“I’m fine. Mr Wayne was looking for you, kid,” Tim said and Dick ran off in the crowd.

“Can you believe that Wayne fostered that poor creature. Wonder if he had ever even slept in a real bed before he was taken in. Can’t even speak English,” she whispered to Tim. She also pushed her breasts up towards Tim who purposefully avoided looking at them.

“I have to go,” he said backing away. She grasped his wrist and Tim pulled away roughly. She dug her nails into his wrist and made an insulted noise and Tim knew that if he truly pulled away, she would make a terrible scene.

“Need any help over here,” said the distinguished voice of Bruce Wayne. Dick stood behind him with wide eyes and the woman dropped Tim’s wrist like it was fire.

“Mr Wayne,” she purred and stalked over to him. “We’re having a good evening, aren’t we Mr Drake?”

“It’s fine,” Tim said roughly.

“Why don’t I show you a painting I bought this evening while Timothy shows Richard the buffet table? You know how young boys are and both of them must be starving,” Bruce said smoothly pulling her away from them both. She forgot about her quest with Tim and followed Bruce.

“Thanks,” Tim said to Dick. How did the kid know Bruce would save the day?

“No problem,” Dick said with a smile. “I am hungry but I don’t know what anything is.”

“I can show you,” Tim said guiding him to the buffet table covered in fancy expensive food. Dick marveled at everything before carefully filling his plate only with things Tim suggested. Tim helped him carry his stuff to a nearby table.

“Thank you,” Dick said shyly. “I always knew,” he started before looking around, “Batboy would save the day.” Tim froze.

“Wha…” he started and Dick winked.

“I’m learning but I am also very clever,” Dick told the older boy.

“Indeed,” was all Tim could sputter. He would have to talk to Bruce about that one.

Let me know what you think. Yell at me. Tell me ideas or theories!

[orangepurin45]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫!! - 𝐂𝐨𝐩! 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐗 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏.𝐭 1

WARNING: Guns, some Yanderish themes (Oikawa is protective of Bara-arms), Blood, Drug dealing delivery, 🔞triggering sexual content 🔞, Angst, Fluff?, Slight!IwaOi, Mentions of past humiliation & trauma (high-school bullying)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is my first time writing btw. Happy Reading! if not the exit is over there 👉🚪.

Papers sprawled all over the desk, strings attached each other to another. A loud sip from the bulky man and a paper flip to side then eyes rose up to the photo of you grinning like a mischievous fox with red lips and taunting eyes screaming "CATCH ME IF YOU DARE," vibe Hajime grit his teeth glaring at your dirty face.

L/n Y/n, also know as the dark phoenix, Japan's most notorious drug dealing, homicide, and man-woman torturer and murderer in the whole country.

Everyone fears you.

Everyone obey at you.

Everyone believes you are the end.

Everything they think, you were responsible of all of this.

"Iwa-chan! Chief wants you to-..." Tooru spokes but was stopped by the sound of Iwaizumi's chair screech. He stood up, shadow loom under his gaze as he walks out the door.

"Wait! Iwa-chan I was supposed to...!

SLAM!

Inform you, " he finished, his lips turned downwards at the cold room, his chocolate eyes scanned every detail of the room then stopped to your portrait of your scary taunting face.

"Thanks a lot, Y/n-chan... But I didn't know you were into kind of... mess, " he smiles sadly, tracing his fingers at your photo. Lips tighten softly at the flashback, of yourself and the other 3rd years. How ironic to see your sweet, sweet smile in the memories compare to your now scary one.

"But I'm not letting you hurt Iwa-chan...That's a promise!,"

He points at your portait, eyes of determination and protection to swearing to blood to bone of himself not want his childhood friend be hurt. He turned away as long he lives

He will never let Hajime's life on the line.

Blood splatter, and small packet of white powder in the sachet all over the floor. Blowing your gun, hot steam coming out of the hole. Soft red lips upturned wickedly, your loyal subordinates gathers the small plastic packets inside the black bag.

"Bring it on the trunk immediately," You grinned as they nodded, immediately running towards your car.

Although, all happiness and rainbows has to ended when your car exploded and a familiar gunfire break a loose killing at off your men in sight.

"Oh dear... here we go again," You giggled then smirked, eyes delighted to see the man, who is obsessed of you being arrested.

How cute! 💕

"DARK PHOENIX!!!," Hajime yelled, eyes filled with fury and justice glaring at your calm figure. His teeth angrily clench pointing his gun at you.

"What a pleasant surprise!... I never thought you were such a party pooper, Iwaizumi-san! I'm absolutely...hurt," you pouted furrowing your brows playfully at him, to which he just flinch remembering a memory, looking down at the thought.

But you took this opportunity to snatched the gun off of his Iron grip by sitting on his shoulder then do some acrobatics before jumping off his broad shoulders then before jumping back then throw him on the ground with a headlock.

"You know it was all good~ back in the day! My mom always taught me to take care of what mess it was...And that was me she was talking about, "

He grunt, trying to wiggling his way out of your grasped but no avail the tightness is stronger than he expected.  You giggled when you heard him yelped.

“Let ME go this is instant! I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna rot in prison!,”

He shouted, throwing his saliva right at your face at each sentence he threat for you. But you only grinned, eyes in mischief and raising a brow at him.

“Oh please~ Cry me a river! Your the cop here aren’t you gonna do it but instead you’re just laying under me...shame on you Iwaizumi-san,” 

Silence  ... You saw how he looks down and saw sorrow at his face, seemingly remembers something, you hummed a growing smile on your soft lips.                 

“Ne, Iwazumi-san Do you remember the day Oikawa-san humiliate me?,”  

He snaps out his trace, then looks at you eyes as larger as the china wares.

“You didn’t help me back then, instead you let him do what he did to me,”

Rains started to pour, as the steaming car slowly deflates it’s flame little by little by an hours. Hajime’s heart dropped at the statement.

Yes, It’s true he did only watched.

 He just...didn’t know

He didn’t know what to do If he did help you back then.

Because of a certains rumors that you seduce your father, your uncle, other male students in any campus. That’s what Oikawa made up, He thought realising it.

You rejected Tooru because you view him as a brother only and nothing more.

“Isn’t because of Oikawa...was it?,”

“All of that wasn’t true SHUT UP!!,”

Unrealising you let him go and back yourself away from him, giving Hajime to sit up then slowly stood. He saw suprising seeing you hitting your head, slapping and punching your head. Snot and tears and all, pulling your hair out, heavily breathing then whimper and cries. Hajime was about to approach you giving the comfort you deserve, you  deserve long time ago that he was going to give if he helped you.

But being a fucked out mentally ill you are, Throwing your head back flash of lightning. Red eyes and nose all bloodshot. Wet Hair stuck on your face.

“FUCK THEM ALL FOR BEING NAIVE ASS BITCH THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!!,”

“Y/n I-,”

All of the sudden a hooded man engulf you in an embrace then took  you, jumping in each delivering cubes. But before he left, he shot Iwaizumi by the calf making him grunt then kneel down to hold where the shot is.

“IWA-CHAN!,”

Oikawa runs afront of him, and by anger he tried firing his bullet back at the hooded man but failed when he fired back to disarm him then fled at the scene.

“That bitch had company I see... Iwa-chan are you alright,”

After the rage diminished into concern laced tone, he pulled Iwaizumi up throwing his arm over his shoulder. Gazing in greater concern at him.

Or Love, so to speak.

“Everything will be all right, Iwa-chan I already called back-up,”

Hajime grunt, he unlatch himself off Oikawa suprise at the action he give, he stumbled and winced but he then glared at Oikawa.

His heart ache’d at the facial expression, shattering to him into pieces.

“Get off me I can take care of myself, I’m not some type of baby being taken care of,” He explains, he took a second to look where you feld and the hooded man went, A breath escape his lips and just stumble ahead.

when the back-up came, they help him guide back inside the ambulance.

“I told you I can take care of myself! Lay off!!,”

“Japan needed you Iwaizumi-san...So you’ll be needing our guidance for now,” The medic discipline and explains The Cop as he guided Hajime at the back of the ambulance.

He click his tongue before the paramedics lift him up in ease onto the ambulance.

Oikawa on the other hand, chocolate-colored eyes darkens at the moment of Hajime's pained expression when he taken the bullet that strike his calf.

And the sorrowfulness of his face when he was about to hug you.

His staring directly at your self-hate state as if he was that main guy at a certain love story, but a fucked up one.

He wanted to comfort you so badly that he might forget you'll stab him by the back. He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white at point of view of your being.

But first he had to make sure you will be torture to hell where you belong.

"Oikawa-senpai! Is everything is going to be alright?"

A turnip head guy pops out, eye'ing in concern at the ambulance where Iwaizumi resides in, left the scene. Tooru took a deep breath, as he face his youngest colleague with that well-covered smile.

"It's alright! There's no need to worry! Cause' He will have the greatest care in the hospital... For awhile I think"

"Oikawa-senpai... Your palms are bleeding"

Kunimi pointed out, staring boredly at the fresh wound that have his blood run down his fingers to his knuckles.

He hadn't realise in mad anger, he clawed his palm so bad at the thought of you gonna ruining Iwaizumi's life.

"Ahhh! My hand slipped in the strawberry jam! My bad hehe"

(；^ 3^）✌️even though it was rather darker than the sweet jam itself, Kunimi could tell it was a lie. He could tell the deep nail marks on his palm and blood mixing under his nails too.

"Uh... Okay I guess..." He pretend to buy it, much of Oikawa's satisfaction.

"Okay back to work! We need to investigate this piece of shit of a burning car!" He grin happily as he skipped towards the steaming car, not caring about the rain pouring down.

Hope you rot in hell Y/n dearest or else one touch on Iwa-chan and you are gone he thought with a deep frown thinking about you makes Oikawa sick upon his stomach but hopefully that one day, you'll be captured and rot in jail.

Or maybe suffer in death sentence because of the multiple crimes you make.

Hope you suffer He thought with sadistic grin.

-End P. T 1-

That was not I expected, but judge all you want all because of the grammar I've been working is still under- construction and I've been using writing stuff like this because of a certain mental stability I've got... Not all that set aside. Thank y'all for reading don't forget to leave a heart or not because due to my ungrateful grammar that make you sick... I'm sorry about that and I apologies for being born... Is all

-orangepurin45