#I love catwoman having her nine lives

[halfdeadfullgay]

DPxDC idea

This started as just an idea but I couldn’t stop writing

Hear me out, the same basic gotham/batfam just replace Catwoman with the Catwoman from Batman Returns(the Tim Burton version) because she is semi ghostly/liminal with her whole nine lives thing. I personally think this version of Catwoman should be included more in DPxDC.

Like the tropes of Danny running away to Gotham, running into [insert dc character], living on the streets(optional), and ClockWork telling him that something needs to be returned to the dead(optional) would work perfectly. Idk if the last one is actually a trope but it’s in a lot of fics.

Basically Catwoman has a little unmarked grave where she got pushed out the window with a small cat statuette, someone steals. ClockWork wanting to make sure his son figure the prince of the dead is safe and maybe an excuse to see how he would do with a common royal task. Catwoman gets word it’s stole and goes to steal back.

It’s kinda like that one Spider-man meme where they’re pointing at each other.

putting the read more cause this got longer than intended

Like obviously Danny can sense/knows of the death around the batfam(and gotham in general) and how none/only one of them talk about it. So he just leaves it, that’s the family’s own issue, maybe he’ll get back into the hero thing later but he needs to focus on staying off the GIW’s radar.

As he’s still settling in, ClockWork sends him on a small errand. Just steal back something(a little cat statuette) that was taken from an unmarked grave, should be easy and simple but his ghost sense as he finally finds what CW sent him for.

At first he thinks it’s one of the batfam but remembers that the only one who actually makes his ghost sense go off is Red Hood but Danny is far from Crime Alley. That’s when something, someone moves out of the shadows. It’s Catwoman and to him, she reeks of death. He stands there for a second, Catwoman was going for the same thing he was stealing. Was she just going for it just because it was a cat or was it connected more?

On Catwoman’s side, she’s had to do a double when she realized that this was a teenager, a child. She hadn’t accounted for someone else wanting to steal the statuette but then again it’s hers. The statuette was left in the alley where she had lost her first life. She had gotten word that it was taken. Why would someone else want it?

She didn’t let her guard down, even though it was just a teen, there was something off about him. Mainly the way his eyes reflected like a cat’s when light hit them and how he seemed to notice her before she showed herself. She was about to speak when the kid opened his mouth.

“I’m gonna assume this is yours?”

[zahri-melitor]

DC's Nuclear Winter Special #1 (2018)

I understand this to be a Santa-free zone, but when I stopped for a moment to consider skipping it I noticed it not only has Rip Hunter, but it has Superman One Million, so I am heading in out of fascination.

The Nuclear Winter Special - Rip Hunter. This is a very Mark Russell story, with all that implies. Using him for the frame story actually isn't the worst idea, as it spreads out the satire. It's on an 'Oogle' campus in the future and skewering tech bros.

Warmth - Batman 666 (groan). Why... why does Damian have a literal bat wing cape on top of his 666 coat? Why does DC persist with this potential future?

Also for the Lazarus Pit fiends (me among them) I note that Ra's has glowy green AND glowy red eyes during this story. Sigh.

Memory Hearth - Superman One Million. J'ONN!!!! THIS STORY INCLUDES DC ONE MILLION J'ONN!!! Okay that's the highlight of this entire issue right there. Also... 'Josh Johnstone' working on the Kent's farm as a handyman when Clark was little? I'm a sucker but that is ADORABLE, J'onn finding and spending time with the other alien on the planet.

Once and Future - Flash. This is Barry reminiscing on why being resurrected was a bad plan about how much he loves Iris and how they are separated by time and space and crises and villains destroying things.

Where the Light Cannot Reach - Aquaman. Arthur gets sent by some scientists to an abyssal trench to look for a radiation-eating microorganism to help with nuclear wasteland that is the earth and sea. He finds it and finds hope.

Last Daughters - Supergirl. Oh GOSH. Sometimes Tom Taylor really can write. In the nuclear wasteland, Kara finds Lucy, a two year old. Kara becomes her mother, and they spend the next two years travelling, until Kara can climb Mount Denali above the radioactive cloud. Kara gets up high enough to see sun, recharges, and then takes Lucy to the Fortress of Solitude, intending to put her in Clark's escape pod and re-enact the end of Krypton. But as Kara is placing Lucy inside, she remembers begging her own parents to come with her...and can't send Lucy alone. So they both squeeze in as Kara cannot abandon her child.

Last Christmas - Firestorm. In our post-apocalyptic world, Firestorm tracks down a nuclear power reading to a dead amusement park, and finds the Nuclear Family, whose power sources are all running down and who are celebrating a final Christmas together. He manages to help them run down at the same moment together (after they try to cause one last moment of destruction by feeding their remaining power to Firestorm to try and blow him up).

Northern Lights - Kamandi. This is a fascinating way to do the Hanukkah story, imo. It's a story of who you are and how your dead relatives guide you. (also it's Phillip Hester both on story and art, so I stared at the art for a while).

Nine Lives - Catwoman. It's Selina raising Holly Robinson's daughter Sophie in the apocalyptic future. (It does amuse me how many times Selina gets stuck looking after teenage girls over the years). Sophie is generous and gives away what they've stolen; Selina is pragmatic about keeping them alive.

Selina is preserving culture by stealing it to store; she goes off to stare at a Bast statue at the Gotham museum and stumbles onto a stockpile of rations at the same time. So she steals the rations, takes them back to Sophie, and tells her she can distribute them to others for Christmas (because Selina, at heart, is a soft touch).

The Birds of Christmas Past, Present and Future - Green Arrow. Ah yes, this story is reminding me why I tend to believe that Dinah has the worst taste in men (Ollie included), and so this is incredibly cathartic seeing Dinah having her own life and family that isn't just raising Ollie's kids. Go Dinah! This is not an apocalyptic future! You can be fond of and love Ollie and realise he's terrible for you!

[casefile]

PORTRAYAL SUMMARIES, UNTIL DETAILED BACKSTORIES ARE WRITTEN UP PLEASE FEEL FREE TO IM ME AROUND ANY QUESTIONS YOU MAY HAVE.

EDWARD MUNSON, PULLED AWAY FROM CANON AND WRITTEN AS AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER; DEATH FOLLOWS. THE EVENTS IN HAWKINS HAPPENED BUT HE SURVIVED THE UPSIDE DOWN, A WANTED MAN AND BRANDED A MURDERER, HE COULDN'T RETURN HOME. BELIEVED DEAD HE TOOK HIS OPPORTUNITY, AND MADE A RUN FOR IT. THIS JUST HIS JOURNEY AFTER. / ALSO LIKELY TO WRITE HIM WITH THE DAISY JONES AND THE SIX UNIVERSE.

HARTLEY 'HART' MONROE, ORIGINAL CHARACTER AFFILIATED WITH NONPAREIL'S TEDDY. ROUGH START FOR THIS BOY, NOT A GREAT FAMILY LIFE, JOINED THE RAF, WORKED THROUGH THE RANKS, NOW A GROUP CAPTAIN, KNOWN FOR HIS SUCCESSFUL RECKLESS MANEUVERS AND RISK TAKING.

JAMES BARNES, MOSTLY COMIC CANON BUT WITH ADAPTED TIMELINE. TIME PERIOD AFTER ESCAPING HIS TIME AS THE WINTER SOLDIER IS ONLY BRIEFLY SEATED WITHIN A REDEMPTION ARC, HE DECIDED AGAINST IT AFTER 8 YEARS. IN THAT TIME HE WORKED ALONGSIDE SHIELD (HATED IT) AND THE AVENGERS (ALSO HATED IT), HE HAS COME TO ACCEPT THAT HIM AND TWS ARE TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE, AND SO SHOULD THE WORLD. HIS IDENTITY AS WINTER SOLDIER IS PUBLICLY KNOWN. BUT HE NOW WORKS FREELANCE/SEMI RETIRED, HAS A CAT CALLED ALPINE AND A SERVICE DOG CALLED SARGE. JUST DON'T FORGET, HE WAS ONCE CONSIDERED ONE OF THE WORLDS DEADLIEST ASSASSINS.

NATASHA ROMANOVA, FIRST YEARS ARE PRACTICALLY IDENTICALLY TO THAT OF THE COMICS. ONLY AFTER DEFLECTION DOES HER STORY CHANGE. INSTEAD OF TAKING A PATH OF REDEMPTION AND EVENTUALLY TO A HERO, SHE FALLS INTO GOTHAM, A MORALLY QUESTIONABLE DESTINATION. THERE SHE CREATES 'THE WEB' AN INTERACTIVE GALLERY IN WHICH SHE USES AS A GUISE. HER LIFE IS ABOUT SURVIVAL, INDEPENDENCE AND SPINNING SOMETHING OF HER CONTROL. WHILST HER INTENTIONS ARE CRIMINAL, THE TRUE PEOPLE WHO BENEFIT FROM HER ACTIVITIES ARE THOSE WHO WAS IN A SIMILAR SPOT TO HER. THIS WOMAN IS NEVER WHAT SHE SEEMS TO ANYONE. / I AM OPEN TO HER BRIEFLY WORKING WITH THE AVENGERS BUT I DON'T THINK IT WOULD END THE WAY IT DOES IN THE FILMS/COMICS.

PAMELA ISLEY, MOSTLY SIMILAR TO THE COMICS, THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THAT I WANT HER TO BE INSPIRED BY THE SNAKE IN EDEN. SHE IS THE GARDEN, BLOOMING BUT SHE IS ALSO THE SNAKE. SHE IS THE ONE WHO TEMPTS YOU TO DECEPTION, WHO WILL CHALLENGE YOUR MATERIAL ATTACHMENT TO THE WORLD AROUND.

SELINA KYLE, INSPIRED BY DANTES INFERNO : NINE CIRCLES, NINE LIVES, EACH IN RELATION TO THE SIN AND PUNISHMENT. EACH LIFE HAS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT TIMELINE, EXAMPLES : 7TH VIOLENCE AGAINST SELF/DAISY JONES AND THE SIX , 8TH FRAUD/GOTHAM AND CATWOMAN AND 9TH TREACHERY/THE WALKING DEAD.

SIF, ORIGINAL LORE, COMIC AND MYTH ONLY. SISTER TO HEIMDALL AND SHARES HIS ALL SEEING POWER, SHE BASED PREDOMINATELY ANYONE BUT ASGARD. WAS ONCE MARRIED TO THOR, NOW SEPARATED. IS THE GODDESS OF WAR AND WATCHER OF THE NINE. SPENDS MORE TIME NOW HELPING LANDS RECOVER AFTER WARS.

SPENCER REID, SEASONS 1-9 ONLY. LILA/MAEVE ISN'T MY CANON, SORRY. PREDOMINATELY THE SAME AS SHOW CANON, PREVIOUS DRUG ADDICT, SOME VERSES IN WHICH HE IS STILL RECOVERING. WILL INFO DUMP ON YOU AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. LOVES HIS MOM.

STEVE ROGERS, COMIC BASED. NGL I HAVEN'T WORKED OUT TOO MUCH WITH HIM. BUT HE'S JUST A BIT MORE ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES THAN YOU SEE IN MCU.

SUSAN 'SUZIE' GLASS, DAUGHTER OF BOBBY GLASS, ONE OF THIRTEEN MOB BOSSES THAT OPERATE THEIR OWN MARIJUANA RINGS IN THE UK, INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND INFLUENTIAL. SUSIE IS CURRENTLY OVERSEEING THE OPERATION WHILST HER DAD SERVES TIME IN PRISON, IT'S NOT ONLY A CHANCE TO PROVE HERSELF BUT ALSO GROW HER BUSINESS AND CONTACTS. SHE'S INCREDIBLY WELL RESPECTED, CLEVER AND RESOURCEFUL. BUT WARNING, SHE CAN BE A THREAT AND SHE NEVER HAD TO GET HER OWN HANDS DIRTY.

[eek-a-tron]

10 Reasons to Ship Loki/Catwoman

A Nondefinitive & Cracky GodCat Rundown

1. He’s a god of thieves. Loki’s a Norse god with a long ancient list of patronage areas: mischief, tricks, lies, chaos, outcasts, the devil, death, and more … including, sometimes, thieves. THIEVES. It’s not mentioned often, but it’s around. Besides, mischief, chaos, and trickery tend to involve crime. Be Loki. Wear helmets. Do crimes. And consider hanging out with an anti-hero who still kinda gets it, because:

2. She’s a master cat burglar. Catwoman’s one of the most-recognizable cat burglars on Earth/Midgard, so that's kismet on the thieves thing. But she also vibes with the mischief thing, and sometimes with lies and tricks, too. Even with the outcasts thing. Definitely the anti-heroes thing. Plus, neither Selina nor Loki is an expert on trust, or family, or How to Feelings™ — and there’s nothing shippier than mutual angst!

3. Oops! All banter. Loki and Catwoman can banter for days. Weeks. Years. Loki plays with everybody, but not many characters really mischief him back. Catwoman would, though; it’s like, her thing. She’s sassy (*cue rando yelling from offscreen* feisty, eh?!), full of nicknames, and although she can’t exactly kick a god’s ass twelve days from Sunday, Loki might ask her to try anyway. (The old Batman rule applies there: did Catwoman have time to plan ahead, or have the element of surprise?! Heists require planning and improv, after all.) As such:

4. MatuRe CoNteNt. These two might never leave the bedroom to steal anything, possibly because of the aforementioned ass-kicking. If anybody can make Loki kneel and say thank you ma’am may I have another, probably while he’s laughing about it alllllllmost the entire time, it’s Catwoman. (Strangely wholesome mature content, right front of my anti-hero sandwich?! I ain’t mad at it.)

Loki's ye-olde-eyebrow gif from abby118!

5. Just two pros being pros. Erm, how do I put this delicately? Loki and Catwoman are, generally-speaking, both highly-sexualized, often-objectified characters. (More so for Catwoman in a way, sigh, but … that’s a whole ‘nuther topic.) Give ‘em a break, y’all: let the oversexualized bunnies get it on together! They’re both adults. They’ve both been around (comics) forever. And look, maybe a woman shouldn’t have to constantly chase a bat who doesn’t want to be caught — and vice-versa, frankly! Cats have needs, okay? Maybe magical, complicated, industry-crossing needs! (Did Loki write this one himself?! I wouldn’t put it past him.)

6. The nine lives thing. A word about the god/mortal power imbalance here: yeah, I don’t love that. But aside from Loki just sorta letting Catwoman hang around because they amuse each other, or because there are plenty of uh, other aforementioned reasons to level their playing-field *snort*, there are also plenty of Catwoman canons floating around in which she’s not entirely mortal. Sometimes she has nine lives, which puts her in the venn diagram hinterlands of magical comic characters with an extended lifespan. Interesting! (This concept was even brought back recently, comics-wise.)

7. Representation? (This one’s thorny because it’s never treated well in canon. The world is poorly-formed. :/ I hope we can form it better.) Loki and Catwoman may also vibe, perhaps, because they both have a canonic bi history. (I mean … Loki is canonically everything so it depends on the canon one’s talking about, but nevertheless.) I’m not really the appropriate person to bring Bi!GodCat content into the world, but it does make sense! Love them however they identify!

8. The Wonder connection. But what about Batman, you ask? What about his dark little heartstrings, you inquire? Well, hear me out here: if Loki/Catwoman, then maybe … Batman/Wonder Woman? (Why yes, I do like things about BatCat, and WonderBat, and GodCat! There are infinite ships in my ancient harbor, mes amis; I’m quite unbothered by multiple ship options. My skin is clear. My crops are watered and rotated.)

9. Knife mates. Both of these anti-hero tricksters are stabby. (Meaning: they sometimes favor the short blades.) Together, they make a dagger duo. Stib-stabs. Pointy sharpersons. WOMEN MADE OF KNIVES/MEN ALSO MADE OF KNIVES.

Loki stab-gif from youlackconviction!

10. Multiple AU fix-it options. When canon inevitably disappoints, one can always go to the headcanon mountain. Catwoman steals Loki from a prisondungeon. Catwoman steals Loki from the TVA. Catwoman keeps Loki alive and he feels acidically/obnoxiously grateful about it, plus other things. Loki vibes with Selina's trust issues and (complainingly) assists her heists with magic; maybe they even grow to be friends, or learn what love is like is between two similar souls. Perhaps their team-up helps get other Marvel/DC types out of a few high-powered jams. (Or else they just steal from them, heh; the options are many.) *steeples fingers* And so disappointment was solved forever, by expecting nothing from official channels. And also AUs.

[villanesus]

I would love to hear your answers to 17, 21, 24, 28 and 39 :)

You did the thing! ( weird asks ) Thank you! :D

17. an earliest obsession you remember?

As a toddler-ish, I was very invested in the mouthfeel of paper. To the extent that my parents had to stop putting books on the bottom shelves of our bookcases. I would just pull out any old book and gnaw the corners right off. Tore up and ate drawings, stole napkins. It was A Thing. My first fandom obsession was Xena. ⚔️

21. your first celebrity crush?

This is rough because I had hella crushes on actresses when I was little, even before I knew I was queer? I genuinely have no idea which one was first, but here’s a fistful. Pre-queer awakening crushes: Jennifer Connelly (because of Labyrinth, but really in anything—her in Dark City? jesus christ), Michelle Pfeiffer (specifically as Catwoman in Batman Returns), Mary Stuart Masterson (specifically as Idgie Threadgoode in Fried Green Tomatoes), Sigourney Weaver (because of Ghostbusters), Nicole Kidman (specifically as Dr. Chase Meridian in Batman Forever). And then the first celebrity crush where I actually understood what was going on: Angelina Jolie (as Legs in Foxfire and then just about everything afterward for several years).

24. what have you learned about yourself?

This is maybe not the most poignant thing, but I was chatting with my therapist this morning and I mentioned that much of my life people have told me I’m really patient and reassuring. (I promise this is not a humblebrag.) The thing that I’ve learned is that I’m massively patient because trauma taught me the best way to be safe is to be the quietest, calmest, least demanding person in any space. As a result, my ability to perform patience is huge, but it comes at an extreme cost to my emotional energy and well-being. So, I need to give myself permission to be a dick once in a while. Or, not even a dick, just to prioritize myself in more situations.

28. an unusual song that’s your favorite?

I’m not sure how unusual this is, but it’s not exactly a radio favorite. I really love And All That Could Have Been by Nine Inch Nails. The build that starts around 2:10 makes me emotional, and I go feral when the drums turn up around 4:15. I recommend it with headphones and a foolishly high bass EQ.

39. is there wise words you live by?

I imagine the correct answer to this is a pithy quote, but I think my life philosophy is best represented by the book I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew by Dr. Seuss (I know, nothing from my childhood has aged gracefully, including Seuss). The last page pretty much sums it up: Then I started back home To the Valley of Vung I know I’ll have troubles. I’ll, maybe, get stung. I’ll always have troubles. I’ll, maybe, get bit By that Green-Headed Quail On the place where I sit. But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready, you see. Now my troubles are going To have trouble with me! Shit is absolutely going to happen. Just acknowledge it and bring your bat.

[batman66sexyrogues]

Round 2 is in the Queue!

All right, everyone! I've got all the entries for round two ready, they're in the queue, and they'll be live on Monday. We've got nine rounds this time, and I'll get them all linked in this post as soon as they're live.

New Contestants in Round 2:

Since it was specifically requested, Riddler (Gorshin) will be get the third open slot. So in round three, that's when we'll bring in Penguin, Joker, and Catwoman (Kitt). I am still featuring her even though she won the Catwoman competition, since I need her to make an even number in round 3, but also because she should still get to have her own trivia blurbs.

Apologies in advance for the lack of new trivia on some of the entries. I overestimated how much would be available and thus I used all of it in the first round.

Again, propaganda is allowed, so have fun, go wild! Just don't harass people.

Second Chance Bracket:

At this point, I am leaning towards compiling the second chance bracket following round three. I'm going to see how many total contestants we have for this before I decide for sure how many matches and rounds that will be. Probably those rounds won't have any trivia since there likely will be more than two characters per match-up and for many of them, there's a chance I won't have anything new for them. If I do have any that didn't get used, that character's trivia will be in a separate post.

All Round 2 Matches:

[leonaluv]

What makes you so attractive? / how do people viewed you?

Choose a movie aesthetic 😍 1. Jennifer Body (Megan Fox) 2. Cat woman / James Bond 007 (Halle berry) 3. Strangers from hell / Tale of nine fox (Lee dong ) 4. Are you human? ( Seo kang Jooon) 5. After the sunset / Till dusk till dawn - ( Salma Hayek)

Pile one~ Megan looks in this film is so iconic like the energy she gives fire 🔥😤 she knows how powerful she is. Stylists deserve an Oscar because of the way they dress so-called teens in moves back then. She is supposed to look older than her age.

"You make me say Oooh oo baby "

The vibe that you know what you want in your life. Even if your more reserved, but the energy you give off is yang /solar in a way that you can command people and get what you desire if you went for it. People get the feeling that it seems that you know more than you let on. The native image can make others want to protect you.

An alluring aura people want to get to know you even though you might shut them down immediately. "You need to leave!!!" - Karen energy always people might get a sexual feeling from you that you will be a wild card. For some it could be your long dark/auburn hair.

People love your personality how you can manage to multitask between school/work/home and personal relationships etc. How often you change up looks and style 💈 maybe general aesthetic love seeing you in a new light 🔆. Preferably love your style especially the way the dress 👗 fits you or suits you. Regardless of looks people just love who you are. High energy 🔋 you either go with the flow or you stick to your plan see it through for the long term. Successful queen of wands energy 🔋.

2.Halle berry - her iconic swimsuit was one of the top icon outfits of her careee 💞also she was catwoman.

2. " That's my best friend she a real bad bitch, drive her own damn car, ...is that bestie in Tesla 💋... "

Now this pile of energy 😎 whew now you are confidently ready to jump into action and say what's needed. People know that you are coming from a place of love if you called them out on their bs. Like tough love from a mother figure 💓and love how soft & nursing, you can be. That you don't easily give and you see a variety of options. People get the sense that you might have some cash to 😣 like you can pay for their meals. sugar mama or sugar daddy.

You're outgoing nature and how you often hang out with your people. Easy going and no filter. You keep it real just tell people to shUt up 😩 and how you rather just be at home by yourself. People appreciate your honestly. Strength - ( I got twice) inner strength - you inspire others to be confident. To be their self instead of putting on a fake persona.

Now I know my mean queens 👸 & kings all have such a soft side to them like in tv shows/movies 💜. ( curly hair - curvy body 💖 brown eyes )

3. Tv series but my man Lee is so fine so he deserve a spot.

3. " Doing too much, shut up, you ain't doing enough, I like doing much... Just bought a 100 acres and my celling disappears "

- queen of swords - cold. Hard. Demanding .authority ahsndjk 😆 we can the stop the reading here because that is the message. People view you as the loner but mysterious like you living a double life 👣. People don't know what to expect from you but honestly, they are digging the serial killers vibes you give off. You probably could start a cult if you wanted to. People want to know what is it about you that makes you the way you are.

You also seem like have money - financially stable. You like making money moves .Ambitious. People see how you connect with others so easily and just achieve your dreams. You put yourself with new people to learn from them. I think you could also help people who are normally ignore in society. Ceo energy -

4. Are you human (Seo kang joon) 😍 he looks unreal in it

"

"I wish this story was a photo so that I could slide it"

"You weren't bad, you were a curse (Yeah)" now a curse can be a blessing to some

People see you as a hard-working person who overcame many obstacles. You feel like a friend someone past life friend to people. The energy of the sun coming out after it has been raining for two weeks. Kids are excited to finally play with their friends outside .

You are spiritual and tend to help others out in your way using your practices. View as a traveler or mature vibe that you can ask about anything without judgment. How protected you are of your loves one's and how you are family oriented. Your the one who sets up people around you to meet up have a good time.

I think you also have good up 💖 people appreciating your looks - especially your booty and dancing.

5. Now I wanted to be her 😝 another iconic Queen

You could have sorta addiction it could be to like social media, alcohol, or smoking. People enjoy watching you do it. You might date around and keep to yourself. Walk away from things that aren't serving you. People love the fact that they can dominate you in a sexual sense and other ways.

You kinda just let go of people once they don't something you dislike. Fashion on point 💅🏾 " I look like I'm fresh off the runaway " 👄 sex appeal👄

Choose as many or just one 🙄

[cha-melodius]

YOU WATCH THE BATMAN! (how about Batman Illya and Cat(wo)man Napoleon, coz ya know... she is a theft)

When I first saw the beginning of this ask I was prepared to say that I'm not actually that big of a Batman fan, that I really only saw the movie because my partner is a big Batman fan, which is all true. BUT. Then I read the end of this, and !!!! This is brilliant?? And even more: how has this never been done before?????

I went looking in the Napollya tag on AO3 out of curiosity, and what I found was that pretty much all the Batman AUs in this fandom are 1) Batman/Superman, for obvious reasons; and 2) in Mandarin. I'm actually not sure how many of them are really AUs vs. crossovers vs. something else wacky going on. Even looking for superhero AUs more generally, there is shockingly little. Of course there is the excellent From Hedonism to Heroism, which is one of my favorite AUs for them, and that does feature a thief-hero Napoleon, but Illya is more like Superman in that one (or, well, Red Son, I guess).

But I digress! Because Batman!Illya and Catwoman!Napoleon is SUCH an excellent setup! Illya makes for a great Batman, what with the tragic past, and the brooding, and the wanting to do good but having that twisted by third parties. And Napoleon is a perfect Catwoman, especially the versions of her that are, on the outside, the brilliant thief who is only looking out for herself, but then she gets unwillingly (at first) roped into helping Batman and ends up sticking with him because she actually does care.

Plus, oh, the opportunities for the flirtatious back and forth! Batman!Illya catching Catwoman!Napoleon at a crime scene and being completely overwhelmed by this outrageous flirting, so that Napoleon gets away, and it happens again and again. Illya tells himself he's not going to let him do it again, but there is just something about this thief that gets under his skin. And you have to have a Bruce!Illya meeting Selina!Napoleon and it just being electric between them, and neither of them really knows why. (Side note: I definitely prefer playboy Bruce Wayne to wet cat Bruce [saw someone call Pattinson's Bruce that and it's SO accurate lmao], and I think it would be hilarious and unexpected if we had playboy Bruce!Illya).

Then they have to work together to bring down some truly bad person (NOT a Joker stand-in, because god I'm tired of it), and they're both falling in love with the other person, but not knowing who the other is really. Also I love the idea of Catwoman!Napoleon taking a bullet or otherwise just about dying to protect Batman!Illya (which is absurd because he's got way better body armor lol), and slipping away before Illya can try to save him, insert line about having nine lives here. What if it's THAT WOUND that makes Illya finally figure out just who Napoleon is? And like, Napoleon is still a thief and Illya should technically turn him in, but he CAN'T because he's too fucking in love with him?? Alternately, Illya takes the wounded Napoleon back to Wayne Kuryakin Manor, because he has no other option really, and when Napoleon wakes up in one of the guest rooms they have to have a Conversation, lolol.

Also, this made me picture Napoleon in a leather catsuit and I just. YES.

So yeah, thank you for this ask, it really delighted me to think about, ngl.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Reunion | Catwoman x Reader

Summary - The last time you saw Selina was right before her court date, thanks to the blasted Bat catching her. After being gone for a long time, you’ve finally returned to Gotham and the first thing you can think of doing is going to see her. 

Warnings - None. Just some fluff!

[A/N] - Just another thing I thought of while watching B:TAS, but with Selina this time since she deserves some love as well ❤

Word Count - 1.3k

Ever since the two of you had crossed paths, all those years ago, slipping into the apartment of Gotham’s greatest cat burglar had always been one of your favourite things to do. Tonight was no different, other than the fact that it had been a long time since you had done so.

The last time you had seen Selina, it had been right before her court date. You had gone to see her so that you could make sure she knew that, no matter what, she would always have your love and support. Before you had been able to, however, she had told you to get out of Gotham while you still could.

There hadn’t been a doubt in Selina’s mind that Batman was going to target you next. The two of you were thieves that often worked together and he was considered to be the world’s greatest detective. It wouldn’t take much for him to figure out a lot of Catwoman’s high profile heists had been accomplished with help. Which was certain to put you on his radar until you ended up facing the same fate as her. And that was absolutely the last thing she wanted for you. 

You had tried your best to argue with her. To tell her that, no matter what, you were not leaving her alone, but, like always, she ended up getting her way. It had broken your heart to pack up and leave Gotham behind, to leave Selina behind, but if that’s what she wished then you would listen. Besides, she had been right. It didn’t make sense to let Batman take out two master thieves in the span of a few weeks.

That had been a long time ago now though and this time you refused to be scared off by Gotham’s Dark Knight. If you had to fight him to stay by Selina’s side then so be it. That’s exactly what you would do. But that wasn’t something to worry about tonight. All that mattered right now was seeing her again.

You walked through the dark apartment with light steps, something that had become quite the habitat considering your line of work. Usually by now, no matter how light your steps might be, you’d be covered in cat fur as Selina’s many, many cats came to greet you. However, none of them were anywhere to be seen. Not even Isis, and you knew for a fact that cat never left her side.

Had she left Gotham without you knowing? Gone off to start a new life somewhere else, where she would be untouched by that pesky bat? Of course, if she had made that decision, you’d hoped that she would contact you. To let you know so the two of you could see each other again, and take the world by storm once more. Since that hadn’t happened, she had to be around her somewhere. Unless she was out for the night, but as Selina Kyle and not the Catwoman. If she went out as Catwoman, and got caught, she would be thrown behind bars for good. 

You soon got your answer when you reached her apartment’s living room.

The room was bathed in moonlight and the doors to the balcony were wide open, allowing a cold breeze to ruffle the curtains and enter the room. Standing out on the balcony, wearing her Catwoman suit and with her little black cat rubbing herself around her legs, was Selina. A smile made its way onto your face at the sight of her.

“I see this cat hasn’t run out of her nine lives just yet,” you called out as you stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. 

Selina froze, but only for a moment. She looked over her shoulder and a smile graced her features when she realised it was you. You felt your heart begin to pick up its pace ever so slightly. She was even more beautiful than you remembered her being.

At the sight of you, Isis ran over to you and ran up your body, so that she could settle on your shoulders. You laughed as she headbutted you rather aggressively, while purring loudly. You reached up and gave her cheek a tickle. “I missed you too,” you told her. “Missed the rest as well, but couldn’t find any of them.” You returned your attention back to Selina.

“They’re away in the bedroom. I didn’t want to risk any of them running off,” she said as she stepped back inside the apartment and walked over to you. “I didn’t realise you were back in Gotham.”

“I arrived earlier tonight. I know you said to stay away, but I just had to come and see you,” you replied as you met her halfway.

As soon as she was within reach, you pulled her close to you, your hands settling on her hips. Selina’s smile grew wider as she wrapped her arms around your neck. By now, Isis had hoped back down onto the ground and was now sat on the coffee table, watching the two of you.

“I’m glad you did. It’s been far too long.” 

Selina leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. You happily returned her kiss, even going as far as to swipe your tongue along her bottom lip, seeking more. Not that she complained. Instead she happily let your tongue slip into her mouth.

When the two of you finally broke for air, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and you both sighed softly. It really had been far too long since you had been in each other’s arms.

“So, what’s with the suit?” you asked. “I thought you couldn’t do this anymore or you’d be jailed. And you know that’s the last thing I want to happen.”

“I know, it’s just,” Selina sighed and pulled away from you. A look of shame briefly crossed her face as she walked further into the room and sat down on the couch. “I miss it so much and, when he approached me, how could I say no?” 

You frowned. “Who approached you?” 

“It’s a long story. Why don’t you sit down?” 

As you sat down next to Selina, Isis hoped up and curled up on your lap. You listened in intently as she spoke and told you all about the event she had been invited to. The mention of Bruce Wayne sent your hackles up and they stayed up, even after she assured you there was nothing going on there. Which made her laugh and shake her head.

She then told you about how the sight of the extinct taxidermied animals and how angry it had made her. Especially the statue for the man who was responsible for why they were extinct in the first place. Then there were the jewels and how they’d brought the itch back and how she met Scarface shortly afterwards and the deal he had made her.

“So that’s where you’re off to tonight,” you said once she was finished. She nodded. “I don’t know, Selina. Something about this, it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Just, think about it. Think about, not only what Scarface said, but how much those taxidermied animals are worth on the black market. Especially the extinct ones. Definitely far more than those jewels. This whole thing, it smells like a set up.”

She groaned and buried her head in her hands. “And I was about to walk right into it. I’m such an idiot,” she muttered more to herself than you, but you were close enough to hear her.

“No you’re not,” you told her as you moved closer and pulled her into a hug. “If I was in your position, I’d go for it without a second thought as well.”

“What do you think I should do?” she asked.

“I think you mean, what should we do now and I think we should rob that museum, our way of course. And to top it all off, we push the blame onto Scarface so that he’s the one that ends up behind bars instead of us!” 

Selina smiled at you brightly, her eyes shinning with mischief. “I like the way you think.”

[artxyra]

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 4

Part 4 - Riddle Me This!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 |

It just had to be the Riddler who decides to grace his appearance at the strip mall. Just looking at his outfit was a crime against her eyes. Marinette had her far shares of a run-in with the green suited villain, and after countless complaints, he still hasn’t changed his outfit let alone attempt to contact her about an outfit change. Catwoman literally has her number; he could have just asked.

“Now who wants to go first. Choose wisely and you shall survive, but choice wrong and you may get a bullet.” The Riddler taunts his capture victims. They squirm under the threat, eyes widen beyond belief.

From afar, Marinette could see the shaking figures of her classmates. Years of being under Hawkmoth’s terror, showing little to no emotions during an attack, and they are shaking to the sight of the Riddler. Perhaps it was because there was no Miraculous cure or they have forgotten their permanent residency.  To be honest, Marinette was just waiting for Lila to say something stupid that would most likely get them all killed.

“M-my Damiboo would save me!” Yup, there she goes. Everyone, that was not fooled by Lila’s words (ie. Gothamites), facepalmed and groans as she gains the interest of the Riddler.

Tapping his chin, he stares at her before introducing his first riddle of this heist, “It's raining, and you pass a bus stop. There are three people there; your trustworthy friend, the love of your life, and a woman about to go into labor. Your smart car only has two seats. What do you do?”

Lila blubbers her answer, something about taking the love of her life and leaving. She is then scared shitless as a bullet zooms past her, nearly hitting her ear. A shock facial expression stays prominent on her face until she falls down, fainting.

“Oh, how the fibber swoons to darkness. Batsy isn’t here yet and I really want someone to solve my riddles.” He searches the crowd for his next victim. The Parisian teens quickly try to wake up Lila, but they also hope not to be the Riddler’s next targets.

Marinette mentally goes through answering the riddle. Chloe and Adrien stare at one another before shaking their heads. They knew what Marinette was thinking and that is a bad idea. Then again it might bet the better option seeing as they have no idea when the bat crew would make it to the scene.

“You give the keys to your friend so that they can take the woman in labor to the hospital and wait for the bus with the boyfriend.” Marinette confidently answers. The GA Trio stare at the Marinette in awe.

“She does that a lot,” Adrien whispers just enough for their new friends to hear. That was true, Marinette has a tendency of solving riddles which were due to her time being Ladybug.

Chuckling happily, the Riddler turns his attention to Marinette. Marinette doesn’t falter at him glancing at her, but she does narrow her eyes just enough to enforce a challenge.

Dancing closer over to Marinette and her friends, the Riddler chuckles. Half of the weapons turn to them, it's Adrien and Chloe that hold their ground while the GA trio looks like they want to bounce to safety.

“No amount of sass can save you from this riddle, pick the correct answer and your friend shall do free but pick the wrong—”

“They die?” Marinette quirks an eyebrow at the villain.

The Riddler blanches and says, “Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What is it?”

Emotionless and quick, Marinette gives her answer, “It's a shadow.”

“How about this one: if eleven plus two equals one, what does nine plus five equals?”

Adrien turns to Marinette, he knows the answer as Chloe taps the ground giving away the crook with a gun behind them. Tensions slowly rise among the group of friends.

“Uh, it’s two o’clock. You’re adding the hours of time.” Marinette answers with a sigh of relief at the end. She knows they are aching to pull the trigger, but unknowingly to the Riddler if anything happens to her, well let's just say he might not live to see another day.

The Riddler growls clearly frustrated with the teen's ability to answer correctly. Only a handful of people can do this to him. “In that case, what is it that given one, you'll have either two or none?”

Marinette only smirks, riddles was also one of her favorite past time against Tim when they are both on the verge of death by lack of sleep. Those late-night twitter messages give much to their twisted mindset on a lack of caffeine.

As Marinette draws on the answer a little longer, Chloe and Adrien take down the henchmen behind them. The henchmen fall to the ground swiftly as the blonde duo nod their heads. Adrien quickly pulls out his phone to see if there were any messages in the group chat. There’s none.

“How long do you think we can hold him off until they get here?” Chloe whispers side glancing at the rooftops of buildings.

“No clue, they haven’t sent anything in the chat, should I try texting Jon?”

Chloe’s eyes narrow causing Adrien to gulp and quickly tap on his phone.

“It’s a choice.” The blonde duo turns their heads towards Marinette who was now toying with the green suit villain. It was clear that she was slowly becoming agitated. “You know, what I have a riddle for you. What’s green and yellow, has no sense of fashion, and is literally killing my eyesight?” She yells at the villain.

It’s like a pin drop as everything freezes once more. Her classmates on the verge of leaving the scene as they were no longer the targets. Seriously, you’re just going to leave them to fend for themselves. Yup, they are as they make a large dash out of the scene. This then creates confusion among the Gothamite as they are used to this and what did they expect, screaming?

“Uh, I—uh…” The Riddle tries to formulate an answer. It takes him a second before pointing to himself. “Me?”

Marinette, like a disappointed mom, nods her head. “Yes. You dare show your face in such a green that could put someone’s eyes out. Don't you dare get me started on the yellow question marks? That tone does not do well on your skin. Gosh, you had one job, Riddler, one fricking job.” Marinette begins to go off. The Riddler and his henchmen pale at every word she says.

Just as Marinette was beginning to calm down, a shadow in the shape of a bat looms over the Riddle.

“Finally,” Marinette huffs as the Riddle turns his attention from her to fight against the Batman.

“Hey, you guys okay?” It was Nightwing who asks appearing behind the blonde duo. If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under with the look Chloe was giving me.

“Oh, my lord, it Nightwing!” Allegra squeals in the background but she goes ignore as Nightwing rubs the back of his neck.

“Get us out of here, like now!” Chloe screams to the vigilante.

Robin rushes to Marinette and tries to take her away from the situation.

“Are you alright miss?” He asks bringing them to the safety of the public. Marinette stares at him deadpanned before nodding. As much as we would like to kiss her lips, he sends her a shrug over to her friends. “Where are your classmates?”

“Gone, unless Alya decided to do something stupid like try and get a film of you guys in action.” Realization began to set over Marinette’s eyes. “You’re going to need to find them. Hopefully, they made it back to the academy without any problems.”

Robin nods then proceed to send a message over the coms about the missing foreign class from Paris. He quickly joins the search as Marinette turns to her friends.

“Do you any idea how ridiculously stupid that decision was?” Chloe grills the designer before whispering, “You know we’re not even in our suits.”

“Sorry Bee, but did you see that outfit?” Marinette counters before going on a massive rant about the Riddler’s outfit and how he could choose it.

~*~

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Yo, some foreigner just grilled the Riddler on his outfit. I’m so proud of her. #prideful #doIseecompetition

Chloe B. @QueenBeeOfParis Replying to @GothamsFashionSense That was my sista @MarinetteMemes, she too loves your content.

Nette @GothamsFashionSense And I ❤️ her, that rant was amazing 🤩. Need any tips @MarinetteMemes? #futureapprentice #fashionmess

~*~

Case in point, Alya did separate from the class when they were trying to escape once word got out that the bats were on their way. She is quick to make sure that Lila was alright before dashing back to the “crime” scene with her phone recording.

Batman had found her, but before he could get a word out, Alya was blasting him with questions regarding the situation and personal questions. He, of course, ignores them. Alya even tries to bring up Lila’s name but he doesn’t answer. Nightwing pulls on up on his bike to take the “aspiring” journalist back to the academy against her pleases and constant questions.

Upon returning to the academy, Alya was heavily lectured by the GA’s headmistress before her own teacher baby her. Mlle. Bustier was never one to give punishments unless it was warranted and even then, she doesn’t do it right. Alya was lucky to return to her dorm with a slap on the wrist and detention.

~*~

Babe Bee @Iheartthebatboy23 Um… can we talk about the girl that grilled the Riddler and how she looked so much like a Wayne? #newWayne #theorieseverywhere #brucewayneexplainplease

~*~

After a week of grueling classwork (aka grading assessments), getting pestered by her former classmates in Mlle. Bustier's class, Marinette wakes up with a beating headache. She hasn’t felt that way since the last time she had gone days without sleep, running on twelve shots of expresso before crashing.

“C’mon buggy, it’s Saturday and Jon’s in town. You know how much the kitten would want to spend time with him.” Chloe states, standing in front of Marinette fully dress and with a businesswoman power pose.

“And here I thought you did want to be the fifth wheel.” Marinette retorts only to get a chuckle out of the mayor’s daughter.

“No, but I will be FaceTiming Gami while you and the boys have fun,” Chloe responds back as she laughs at the dismal look on Marinette’s face. “But seriously though, get dressed. We’re meeting the boys in thirty.”

Marinette rushes over to her wardrobe and picks out her clothes then rushes to the bathroom. She comes out in fifteen minutes wearing black leggings and one of Damian’s sweatshirts that look like a dress against her small frame.

As the teens exit the school, they were quick to avoid Lila who was making up another story as to where she’ll be this evening. It was something along the lines of going on a date with her Damiboo. It took everything in Marinette’s body to not grill the liar about her boyfriend, but with soothing words from Chloe, they managed to get out the building without bloodshed.

If only that wasn’t the case later on that day.

Part 5 >>

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[peppersonironi]

How I Picture a Batfam Age Reversal

I’m going to write this as a fic (And I want to go on into a young justice world where dick forms the team and his siblings are protective) but here is the outline in bullet points in case anyone is interested. Please note this is VERY first draft.

Ages (At end) & Order:

Damian- 24

Duke- 21

Stephanie- 20

Tim- 21

Cassandra- 19

Jason- 19

Barbara- 15

Dick- 13

Damian is Ten when he is sent to live w/ his father. Bruce is 30.

They don’t really work well together at first. But Selina, Alfred, and Clark somehow get it through Bruce’s thick skull that he has to care for this child.

Damian keeps sneaking out on patrol, against B’s wishes. Eventually, he let’s Damian join and tells him to choose a name (Not what we meant, Bruce!)

Damian wants to go for something like Shadow, or Demon, but Bruce puts his foot down. He says that Damian shouldn’t try to be darkness.

Damian is pouting in the gardens when he finds a wounded robin. It’s wing is broken. He demands that the animal should be taken to a shelter, and carries it in his hand the whole way there.

The bird makes it, and Damian demands to be called Robin. He designs his suit, going slightly more colorful. “I might be called Robin, but I am NOT wearing brown, Pennyworth.”

Bruce introduces him to Superboy (Jon, note: less age dif) and the pair are close friends.

He is Robin for a little over seven years before he begins to fight with Bruce about being allowed to patrol alone, and being his own hero. (basically what happened w/ Dick).

Damian leaves Gotham, opting to claim Bludhaven. Jon joins him. He suggests they call each other Nightwing and Flamebird. Damian thinks it’s a bit childish, but he can’t say no to Jon. They’re costumes are here. (done by @hyperactive-lectiophile! Fantastic job!)

They eventually realize they’re in love w/ each other, all while trying to figure their lives  out. Damian briefly tries to join the police. He hates it. Eventually, he enrolls in BH college for a major in Art and a minor in business.

Later in Gotham, the We Are Robin/Robin War stuff happens. Long story short, Duke is adopted. 

Damian is angry to find out he has a new brother, goes to Gotham to yell at Bruce, but then meets Duke. They bond, and are close siblings. Damian makes his father promise to not adopt any more strays.

Stephanie Brown wants to stop her Father, so she sews up a costume and goes out as Batgirl. Bruce is apprehensive at first, but his family basically yells at him to train the poor girl before she gets hurt.

He does, and after Steph meets Damian, who she absolutely adores (He loves her too. The way she pisses his father off is legendary), Stephanie decides she wants to be Robin. Batgirl was good for dealing with her father, but she wants to belong to this new family, and, w/ Damian’s blessing, she makes a new costume.

Unfortunately, after a while, Stephanie is killed by Black Mask (her death is faked, like in the comics, but the Fam doesn’t know)

Enter Tim Drake. Batman has been going crazy over grief, and not even Nightwing, Catwoman (this is SOOOO batcat, btw) or The Signal can calm him down. Tim steps right up, and demands to be robin.

Damian and Bruce fight over this. Surprisingly, Damian is the one who thinks Tim should be given a chance. He sees how his father has been acting. Damian knows that Tim must be brilliant to figure out their identities, and thinks that should count for something. Duke takes his side, knowing that it takes guts to talk to batman, and be willing to join him. Bruce, meanwhile, is a constant chant of “no more dead robins”. After a while, and lots of arguing, Tim takes his place as Robin. They redesign the suit, and he takes his place as robin.

It’s little while after this that Stephanie comes back. Tim offers Robin back, but Stephanie declines. They talk and grow closer. At one point they talk about Stephanie’s new moniker. She says she doesn’t want to be Batgirl either. She wants something new. Tim suggests Spoiler (Bad pun turned brilliant idea?).

Cassandra Cain arrives on the scene next. She saves the commissioner’s life (like No Man’s Land, minus No Man’s Land), and Stephanie immediately imprints on this tiny assassin child (So do the rest of the family, but Steph claims the fourteen-year old first. She and Bruce fight over custody.). She offers Cass Batgirl. Gotham gained a new vigilante, and Bruce Wayne adopted a new child. (Faster than the comics, I KNOW. But Cass deserves happiness)

Everyone loves their new sister, and everyone spoils her. Duke is the one to take her to a ballet the first time. She immediately begs to be put into lessons.

Somewhere in here Tim’s mom dies and his dad is in a coma. Bruce takes him in.

Eventually, Bruce decides to offer Tim Red Robin, hoping to avoid the strife he had with Damian. (Like in the comics, Bruce was going to give Jason Red Robin)

Tim is unsure of this, and puts off deciding. Then little Jason Peter Todd decides to jack the tires of the batmobile and is immediately taken in.

Everyone is captivated by the tiniest addition to their family, but it's also at this time that Jack Drake finds out about Robin and forces Tim to quit. Tim gives Jason his blessing to become Robin.

Everyone pitches in on helping train the newest Robin. Damian teaches the kid things he learned from the league (non-lethal things, since Damian loves this kid), Duke teaches him escrima fighting, Stephanie (Much to Bruce’s dismay) has a full seminar of the delicacies of glitter bomb making. Tim teaches the kid hacking, when he can get away from his dad. 

Unfortunately, when Jason has been Robin for almost a year, he is killed by the Joker.

The family is torn apart by greif. But this time around, Bruce has a much larger support system. All of them lean on each other.

The only time that Damian ever broke his no-kill rule while living with his father was to kill the Joker. He hunted and murdered the clown, sparing Harley. He had been friends with Quinzel since he was Robin, and knew how the Joker treated her. Harley became the batfam’s honorary aunt after this.

Bruce was too emotionally tired to fight with Damian over his actions, so no one said anything. Eventually, Bruce and Damian did argue. Damian refused to apologize,, though he did promise his father to never kill again. Their relationship was strained for a while, but they worked through it.

Less than a year later, Jack Drake dies, and Tim comes back onto the vigilante scene. He refuses to become Robin, however, choosing to take Bruce up on his offer and become Red Robin. He designs his own suit, and the world seems to slowly become normal. Or some semblance of it.

One night, the circus is in town and the whole family (except Alfred) is home. Duke, Tim, and Steph drag Bruce, Cass, and Damian to go see it.

It is on this night that Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their death. Dick is sent to live in juvi, meanwhile Bruce tries to adopt Dick. He succeeds, and the manor once again has a bright young child running through it’s halls.

Dick figures out the secret identities of his family and instantly demands to be allowed out. He wants to take down Zucko, and won’t settle for every single member hunting for him. Dick wants to take down his parent’s murdered himself. He tries to sneak out multiple times, but is always stopped.

Damian talks to Dick (They are extremely close) and explains the origins of Robin. He says that the mantle was born out of a want to distance himself from the revenge and violence of the league. Dick cries when he learns this and says that his own parents used to call him Robin. He suggests that the mantle is more than a personal need. Robin is Family.

Damian almost immediately demands that Dick be trained and help catch Zucko. Bruce is confused, as before, Damian was strongly against letting a nine-year-old fight crime. Damian explains (after much cajoling. He might be more emotionally open and healthy than when he first arrived in the manor, but the kid is still constipated) what Dick had said, and that Damian understands the kid’s need for direction. “When I first came here, I needed Robin. I might not have known it, but I did. Richard needs Robin now, as well.”

The family took sides on the issue, but eventually Dick (with the aid of his puppy-dog-eyes™) won everyone over. He got his own Robin costume, and they caught Zucko.

Dick refused to stop being Robin, and so Gotham gained a new bird.

Dick was Robin for almost two years when The Red Hood made his appearance in Gotham. No one knew what he wanted, as he didn’t seem to do much beyond killing criminals. They thought he was a vigilante at first, but then he began to take over the criminal underbelly of Gotham, regulating crime. On top of that, Red Hood targeted Robin. Attacking the boy wonder when no one else was around. After the red helmeted rogue let loose a few hints about the league of shadows, Damian interrogated his mother, who explained the identity of The Red Hood, and how she had set him on Gotham.

As soon as the family figured out the newcomer’s identity, and the reason he was alive Damian tracked him down. He knew how to deal with pit rage from his childhood, and brought the lost bird back to the nest.

The family was whole for the first time in years. Jason was still angry and resentful, but he had his family back. Jason was grateful for Damian taking revenge for him, and they were once again close. 

Slowly, Jason let everyone back in, including Bruce. Dick is wary at first of this new older brother, but the little chicken nugget quickly warms up to Jason, and even convinces him to teach him how to shoot a gun (In secret, of course, Dami and Bruce would blow a gasket). Jason couldn’t resist the kid. It was physically impossible.

A year later, Cass decides to pursue dance as her career. She gets a job with the Hong Kong Ballet company. She moves there, and decides to take a new moniker: Black Bat. Her family is so proud of her, but they miss her dearly. Duke visits often, bringing new back to the family.

The absence of Batgirl is filled after a while by Barbara Gordan. She makes her own costume and starts going out. Once again, Stephanie Brown adopts a smol bean (Well, not legally. The commissioner is still alive) and outfits her with a more Gotham-friendly suit and weaponry (I.e. heavy kevlar and leather)

Babs is taken whole-heartedly into the fold, and is made an honorary sister.

[oftenderweapons]

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat. 

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”. 

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one. 

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

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EDIT: You can find part two here

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Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.  

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

-----------------------------------------------

Part two here

[dalekofchaos]

I know you don't like Chloe Price anymore. But since you like to change things about your favorite things like Star Wars, DC, Marvel and Horror, how would you change how DONTNOD/Deck Nine handled Chloe?

A lot. I will start with BTS and then LIS. But to be fair, I’ve grown to like Chloe again. My big problem is how she treats Max, the fact that we cannot choose who Max focuses on(again I’d choose Warren and Kate if I could) and well the hateful and toxic Pricefield fans ruined Chloe for me. But here’s how I would change Chloe if I could

BTS

First of all, hire someone who actually understands how teenagers talk(especially teenage girls) and make the dialogue less cringey(this goes for both games)

Give Chloe more of a character arc. I don’t feel that Deck Nine did Chloe justice. The writers attempt to evoke empathy with Chloe feeling grief which is done via exactly one emotion- which is a very childish understanding of how loss and coping works. She had no character arc, considering she was the exact same character that we already knew in LiS Episode 1 (A bitter disaffected teenage youth with no regard for authority) so we didn’t get to see Chloe evolve into the character we loved in the first game. She just already was it.  The gameplay undid the narrative we were given about Chloe being a loner in that you can talk to and make friends with pretty much anybody and they all acted like they liked and were genuinely happy to see Chloe. Very rarely were there interactions with Blackwell students that ended with Chloe’s presence not being welcomed, only Wells, Victoria and Nathan showed contempt for Chloe(even with Nathan that goes away when he claps for her at the play)  The reason this is done is because the game wouldn’t be fun if Chloe actually was a loner. The core mechanic of Life is Strange is being able to talk to people and experiment with your surroundings. A game where nobody wanted to talk to Chloe works against the core mechanic. But in making her the main character it undoes the weight of the narrative of Chloe being alone until Rachel/Max. I just strongly feel that Deck Nine did not understand Chloe as a character and did not do her justice. We should’ve gotten Chloe at her lowest, evolving from Max’s best friend to the character we know in the first game and Rachel helping lift Chloe through the worse point of her life.  Chloe and Rachel together having fun rocking out and Chloe starting to live again and show that Chloe Price loves Rachel Amber and Rachel loves Chloe. Chloe losing Rachel and showing how Chloe has to deal with Rachel missing, how she became in debt to Frank and how she got involved with Nathan and how Chloe ends up in the bathroom. 

The game should have 5 episodes. The first 2 episodes focus on Chloe and Rachel’s first year together. Episode 3 focuses on 2011. 4 focuses on 2012 and the final episode focuses on 2013 and Chloe’s breakdown over Rachel’s disappearance. A bonus episode “Firewalk with me” to show us Rachel’s final days and the choices that led her to the Dark Room. Needless to say, those fans who were against LIS 2 would have something to look forward to cause Deck Nine would take their time with BTS in this scenario.

Make it very clear that David is abusive. The problem with their dynamic in BTS is that they go out of their way to make Chloe irrational for not giving David a chance. In BTS Chloe says she hates David because he calls her “girly” and the game practically implies Chloe is at fault for the conflict between Chloe and David for not accepting David’s photo...what kind of abuse apologetic bullshit is that?  Okay so start off by saying in her journal that “Joyce really remarried the first asshole she saw in Two Whales.” because by the time of 2010 in the canon of the first game, they are already married. Have it implied in her entry about David that it’s like “living Full Metal Jacket” that alone implies emotional and mental abuse if you’ve seen the Bootcamp scenes. Chloe in the entry would continue to say, life’s been a living hell ever since David entered the picture and Joyce takes his side every time. We would get the impression that David does not understand nor does he care about Chloe's depression and grief for losing William and Max moving away. When fighting with Joyce about David, say “he keeps hitting me and you keep defending him, how do you expect me to get over dad by letting some abusive asshole take his place?” Joyce would respond with “you keep pushing him, what did you think was gonna happen” And worse, David just started the Security Officer job at Blackwell. Needless to say Chloe is not taking any of this well. So when David and Chloe go to Blackhell, he’s basically ordering her around, talking down to her. Telling her “You’ve had two years free of having a father figure in your life. I am your father now. I’ve been showing you what a stable home is like, yet you keep pushing me.” Chloe back talks him and it results in David smacking her. David would then say “Look what you made me do.”  Later in the game, Chloe would get herself expelled just to get away from David and David would berate her and call her a loser. Near the end of Episode 3 or 4, Rachel would have dinner with Chloe, Joyce and David. Rachel would see the way David treats Chloe and stands up for her girlfriend. Threatens to call the cops on David if he ever hurts her girlfriend ever again. This of course would spark down David’s obsession with surveillance and his investigation into stalking Rachel, all because he wanted to save his pathetic fucking ass. 

Actually give Chloe a transformation. The problem with BTS, is that Chloe is the same character from the first game.  We don’t get to see how the innocent and happy Chloe  becomes the Chloe from the first game. She’s just like this immediately.  We should get a Batman Returns Catwoman like transformation for Chloe. Chloe’s had it with David, Joyce, Blackhell and now Rachel for leaving. So Chloe would basically be destroying her room and tossing everything away that belonged to the old Chloe. 

Make the game about Rachel helping Chloe down the worst moment of her life. Chloe’s “Rachel was my angel” comment showed a lot to how Chloe loved Rachel and how much she meant to her.  Chloe tells Max that Rachel entered her life when was at her absolute lowest and that it was she who helped her deal with the grief of having lost her father but the entire game is centered around Chloe being the one who is supporting Rachel as she deals with a serious family drama of her own.  What Before The Storm should have been. Rachel helping lift Chloe through the worse point of her life. If Rachel had stopped Chloe from committing suicide… as was the commonly believed interpretation to what happened between Chloe and Rachel up until BtS, then Chloe’s ”“she was my angel” would have meant it was truly special and real. But instead they bump into each other at an illegal concert and Rachel distracted some thug who works for Damon and we spend the game finding out who Sera is in a reveal we all saw it coming and only to have Rachel taken out of the third episode where Rachel never talks to her and makes the whole thing feel pointless. What the game should have been was Chloe and Rachel together having fun rocking out, becoming girlfriends and Chloe starting to live again and show that Chloe Price loves Rachel Amber and Rachel loves Chloe.

Do Chloe’s past with Victoria better. A minor change, but they kind of make Chloe and Rachel look like jerks in the Victoria drugging in part 2. If you let Rachel drop out the play, you drug Victoria or back talk her out of doing the play that she was given. Also it lines up with the first game better this way. In LIS, if you choose to take the picture with Victoria in paint, when seeing said picture, Chloe will say “Boo-Yah skank! Karma’s a bitch!” So I guess we can have Victoria bullying Chloe with her mean girl bullshit, Chloe fights back, Victoria gets scared, so Victoria helps get Chloe expelled by reporting her graffiti(as is the reason she was expelled from Blackwell)

When Rachel goes missing, we spend the final episode looking for her. It’s a very sad and tragic episode. We all know there is no hope in finding Rachel, but we still try anyway, in some hope that Rachel is still out there. So Chloe leaves up the posters, is in debt to Frank and tries to steal money from Nathan. Which leads Chloe to that faithful day in the bathroom.

LIS

Chloe does not park in the handicapped space(I don’t even have to tell you why this was a bad idea to begin with)

Chloe stops guilt tripping Max after the first truck ride

If you chose not to come out of the closet or not take the blame, after lashing out at Max, Chloe will apologize for lashing out at us. Same for if we chose not to fire the gun. 

Does not get pissy if we take Kate’s call, in fact prior to Chloe’s test, Max would explain the situation with Kate and Chloe would be understanding as she understands being depressed herself and would even help Max out in finding evidence to implicate Nathan and David. 

It’s not the handicapped fund, it’s the “Prescott Donation”(aka Sean’s bribery money) this way we can feel less guilty about not stealing from the handicapped fund and Chloe doesn’t look like an ableist

If Chloe does snap after finding about Rachel and says the same things she did about Kate as she did in canon. Max can then lose her shit and stand up to Chloe. Basically says the way she treats her is not okay and if she wants to help her find Rachel and seek justice for Kate, then things are gonna have to change or they are finished. Then Max leaves Chloe behind with Chloe realizing that she needs to change. Ideally something like Bojack Horseman “You can't keep doing this! You can't keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself as if that makes it okay! You need to be better!  Chloe, stop. It's not alcohol, drugs, or your parents, David, Rachel or all the bad things that happened to you before. It's you. It's you. I want to find Rachel and get justice for Kate, but if this is how you’re gonna keep treating me...Fuck, man... What else is there to say?“ I know LIS came out way before BJHM or that particular episode, but it’s the perfect example of how Max could’ve stood up to Chloe’s toxic behavior

After the returning from her time jump, Max returns to her dorm and goes to Chloe. Chloe properly apologizes for how she’s been acting since they got back together and agree to put everything in the past so they can work together to find Rachel and give Kate justice

Max is given the option to enter the Everyday Hero’s Contest. If you saved Kate, Max with Kate’s permission, Kate would let Max take a photo of her in the hospital. And Max enters her photo at the last minute when she returns to Blackwell. If you did not save Kate, then Chloe would give up the Butterfly photo so Max can enter the photo. Either way Max will win the contest. Max wins the Everyday Hero Contest. Max gives an inspiring speech about how everyone can be a hero and that Kate has always inspired her, how much she loves Kate and that she hopes that Kate knows that she is loved by everyone in Blackwell and everyone, especially Chloe, Warren, Victoria would cheer Max on. This would also give Jefferson the means and opportunity to drug Max without killing Chloe at the Junkyard. Chloe doesn’t die because it’s a public place and Jefferson has Max where he wants her. It honestly works better than Jefferson magically appearing at the Junkyard with no explanation(and it never being brought up).

What could happen in Episode 5 is basically the same thing, only in an act of desperation, Chloe goes to David to help save Max. They put their differences aside to save the person Chloe loves the most and David gets to stop Jefferson. Chloe could not be there to save Rachel, but she can be there for Max. Chloe saves Max and Jefferson goes to jail. Together Max and Chloe goes directly into the eye of the storm to save everyone at the diner. However instead of using Warren’s photo to save Chloe, Max uses it to warn David about Jefferson and to reach the Lighthouse. The same choice is given to us and instead of a copout ending,  Max actually uses the photo to save Chloe and the town. Warns David and David barges in and catches Nathan redhanded with the gun and uncovers the truth of Rachel, Kate and Jefferson. Max warns the town of the storm. Everyone listens. After Jefferson’s arrest, the police clears the bunker of Jefferson’s predatory display and the town hides in the bunker. The town is rebuilt. A town can be rebuilt, but you can’t build another Chloe. Jefferson and Sean are rotting in prison and Nathan is getting the help he desperately needed. Chloe finally moves on from her hatred of David and the Price family gets to start over. A montage of Max and Chloe together either romantic or platonic and if you chose to romance Warren, a little clip of Going Ape, if just friends, then we see Warren, Kate, Max and Chloe Going Ape! It ends on Rachel’s funeral and the final scene shows the Doe spirit as both Max and Chloe smile as Rachel’s spirit finally rests. 

Chloe’s arc is lashing out at a cruel world, learning to let the right people in, healing and letting go of her hate and starting over. It just doesn’t work if she has to die to actually learn this and also that character arc goes out the window of you choose the save Chloe ending (and makes max look like an awful person for killing all her friends and Joyce). Chloe gets to live, she’s at peace knowing that Rachel was brought to justice, she’s willing to start over with David, she has her best friend and mother in her life. If you chose the Pricefield route, then Chloe is at peace with Rachel passing on and she starts anew with Max. If not, then Chloe still has her best friend and knows she will always be there and she will always be there for Max in return.

Also, I like the idea of Max and Chloe road tripping together as was demonstrated in LIS 2, but I also like the idea of Warren, Victoria and Kate joining them as well and they live in their own commune. Maybe Max, Warren and Chloe are in a poly relationship, while Kate and Victoria are together!!!

[dercolaris]

Maybe

Quite a long story compared to my other stuff. Round about 8800 words. Uff. Beside that I don't really want to say much about it - just read it. The main characters are Selina and Jonathan, but you should get an idea yourself of ​​the relationship between them in the story.

Thanks for double-checking the story, @shin-arei!

Have fun!

The black-haired woman stretched herself extensively in the cool air and gave a small moan when she finally stood on the roof of the old museum building. Gotham lay sleepy under a thin layer of snow, the few flickering lanterns cast lulling light on the deserted, extremely dark streets. It was a breathtaking sight. One of few that Selina Kyle would never get enough of. She closed her eyes and listened into the sleeping heart of her home city. This silence in the night was so unusually beautiful. Her lungs took a deep breath before looking for a way to quietly exit the roof. Selina grabbed her leather whip, let it hiss at a nearby billboard, and shimmy around the trusty tool on a neighbouring balcony. After landing safely, her gaze fell on the worn leather material in her hands. The years in Gotham didn’t leave one without a trace - neither objects nor people. Catwoman sank into a thick web of thoughts for a brief moment. Yes, the time had changed the hard underground life even more in the last months. How much Selina wished for the simple days of her youth, when it was enough to just care for food and shelter everyday. A time in which there was no crazy Joker, who murdered people at random and also no Penguin who had subverted all organizations, whether state or private, and thus in fact became the mayor of the city. Rival families with Mafia-like structures offered more leeway than a single ruler of the streets. At that moment Selina rebuked herself and pushed her googles onto her forehead. It wasn't as if it wasn't already difficult to survive in Gotham then, just the number of crazy people had increased dramatically in recent years. The thief shook her head slightly and turned to face the fire escape. She slid down elegantly, landing safely on the floor like a cat. Her whip found its way back into the holder on the belt. A loud roar of sirens darted past the dark alley towards the central bank. The black-haired woman watched the common spectacle with a smile, counted the fifteen police cars in total and looked up at the sky. As if on command, the light signal appeared in the shape of a bat in the grey, milky clouds above her. Selina couldn't help but chuckle slightly. She breathed a kiss on her hand and whispered softly: "Good luck hunting down the bad guys, my Dark Knight."

There were always rumours that she was very close to Batman, actually to the point that some rogues strongly believed they would share a bed at night and having a strange romantic love affair. That wasn't entirely true, even if Catwoman couldn't deny the millionaire's aura. Still, Gotham's self-proclaimed playboy wasn't interesting enough for her. Bruce simply wasn't a challenge. Peace, joy and rainbows was certainly nice every now and then, but the black-haired woman would never get used to the perfect wife and mother role. This thought clashed like a train without brakes into the otherwise homogeneous image of a possible permanent partnership. When the sirens had died down in the distance, the thief ventured out of the dark alley. Her break-in had gone unnoticed so far, and since the law enforcement officials were demonstrably busy with more important things, she would get away with no chase tonight. How boring. Selina walked in the opposite direction of the central bank, trying to get to the next street corner as quickly as possible. Her bag with the change of clothes was hidden in the ladies' room at the dingy Jack's Coffee fast food place. With luck, no one had suspected anything. Catwoman immediately smirked at her unfounded paranoia. It was known that women usually avoided the dirty take-away restaurant and there were practically no women on the streets of the city during the night time hours anyway. If her clothes were safe somewhere it was in the shabby loo at Jack's. A little shiver ran down the thief's back. This calmness was deceptive. Deceptive and at the same time absolutely beautiful. The snow fell slowly from the sky like a white veil. Catwoman did a little pirouette, chuckled happily and sucked the pure, icy air deep into her lungs. During the day a wild pack of stressed people raged across the paths, but now the roads belonged only to her. Like a proud cat in the night.

The black-haired woman passed some unknown shops with even more unknown names and stopped in front of a pane of glass. The cold steamed up the filthy window, but behind it her eyes caught some very old-fashioned clothes. Washed out shirts, dusty ties, turtle necks in stray colours. Her eyes slid to the name of the shop. "To the old tailor," her lips mumbled softly, followed by an ironic-sounding snort, “hmpf, very suitable, don't you think?" The thief continued on her way, turned left at the street corner and reached the filthy snack bar. When she pushed open the double door, the stench of alcohol, cheap perfume and sweet cigar smoke came towards her. Selina turned away, suppressing her cough. Only when her nose got used to the smells did she dare to enter. The guests' eyes were fixed on her. A bunch of older, failed men who spent their retirement years drinking their brains away. Catwoman felt no pity for these existences. The black-haired woman had known most of them since her messed up childhood and there was no one there who did not deserve to sit here at this filthy bar in one way or another. With this ulterior motive, she walked steadfastly through the rows of tables and passed the door to the women's toilets. The swirling light from the white neon tube completed a picture of pure disgust. The two washbasins lay in ruins on the smeared floor tiles, three of the four toilet doors had been torn from their hinges and the brownish green broth that rose from the bowls suggested that cleaning, or rather maintenance, had been on the to-do list for several years. The thief pushed open the remaining door with a shiver and locked it behind her. She wasn't particularly demanding when it came to her short-term hideaway, but she had a certain standard to consider this environment as totally unworthy.

The next opportunity to store her belongings would have been in Ivy's small apartment, but that shouldn't been possible for the next hundred years. A silly dispute between them had escalated to such an extent that, in blind anger at the stubborn botanist, she had turned one of her priceless new plants into compost. It was only through persuasion from Harley that she had gotten away with her life again. Selina sighed softly and pulled the tight leather suit from her body. The black-haired woman was infinitely grateful to the lively woman for her constant attempts to mediate between the botanist and her. Even with all nine cat lives, she would probably be dead without Harley by now. She and Ivy had a love-hate relationship that alternated between the two extremes. If they loved each other, no words were needed to understand what the other wanted. If they hated each other, the thief felt to stand in front of an overpowering praying mantis which was damn hungry and would like to eat her in one piece. She secretly admired Harley for the way she knew how to curb her girlfriend's temper. A life with Poison Ivy was just as dangerous as a relationship with a deranged clown. When Selina was finally in her dark jeans, greyish hoodie and black winter jacket, the pent-up tension of the evening fell literally away from her. Her leather outfit disappeared into the backpack, followed by her googles, gloves and, of course, her stolen goods. A quick glance at the smartphone immediately made her smile. “Selina, I know you broke into the National Museum tonight. Be glad Scarface is keeping all the police and me busy. Bring the stolen items to police headquarters by tomorrow night and we'll forget about the whole thing – Bruce.” She chuckled softly and slipped the cell phone into her pocket. The never ending game of cat and mouse with Batman made stealing so attractive and exciting.

She shouldered her backpack, opened the lock on the toilet and left the place of horror with quick steps. As the black-haired woman slipped through the snack bar, the waitress at the counter pulled loudly accumulated secretions up her nose, only to spit it out in a bucket next to the deep fryer. Stifling an emerging nausea, Catwoman pushed open the double doors with bated breath. The cool, fresh air felt like relief. A few liberating breaths later, Selina looked up again at the cloudy sky. It was still snowing incessantly. For a brief moment the thief thought about returning to her old apartment, but decided against it and turned towards the docks. The footprints were quickly covered with new snow. Her eyes examined the streets that slowly disappeared under the white ceiling. Far from the main road, civilization seemed to have come to a complete standstill. A few lights were still burning in the small windows of the skyscrapers, but the number was dwindling and the amount of functioning lanterns decreased with every new bend in the remote corners of Gotham. Selina stopped suddenly. She looked into the empty streets of the city and began to wonder whether her decision to go to him was the right one. After the violent argument with Ivy, the thief had actually sworn not to enter into a relationship, whether as a partner or purely for business. So how did it come that the black-haired woman got in touch with a permanent resident of Arkham Asylum, who was at least as ruthless and destructive as the infamous Joker himself? Her thoughts were wandering again to the night five weeks ago in the sewer system, when she tried to sneak into the town hall unnoticed. It was her plan to put a little warning on the mayor's desk. The good, old man was corrupt, but threats could put him back on the right track easily. At least a threatened disclosure of his involvement in several child trafficking cases often had the desired effect. That evening, however, something went terribly wrong. Selina had basically never had anything to do with Waylon Jones alias Killer Croc before, which the thief almost made for the mutated monster's dinner that night...

She waded slowly through the filthy waist-high water of the half-tubes. The constant dripping in the seemingly endless corridors of the sewer system made her shudder. entering buildings like this was by no means her style, but in turbulent times it was necessary to cover uncomfortable journeys. The ends justified the means. Catwoman grabbed one of the wooden beams on the barricade in front of her and jumped with a little swing onto the dry wooden panel on the other side. The bars on the apparent exits completed a gloomy picture that could create claustrophobic feelings in stray souls. Anyone who was not familiar with the constantly winding corridors was doomed to certain death. Selina sighed softly and looked at her GPS device. The town hall was not far away. Hopefully. The thief stretched a little when she suddenly heard a distant growl. Her head tilted to one side, her body tensed. She listened closely into the corridors, but could not make out any source of noise through the high ceilings and elongated halls. She had known from the beginning that she was not alone in these tubes. There were many homeless people who scolded these aisles of their home. Still, the sound had certainly not been human. Selina took a deep breath and dismissed it as a kind of imagination. The mind could play bad tricks on you if it was under-challenged by insufficient stimuli. Unfortunately, the bare, grey walls offered little to no change. Nevertheless, the black-haired woman got a queasy feeling. An uncomfortably oppressive feeling that she couldn't judge. More worried than she wanted to admit, Catwoman decided to reach her destination as quickly as possible and to choose a different route for the way back. She slipped across the planks with skilful steps.

After a good six hundred meters, the growl reached her ears again, followed by a faint bubbling. This time, however, the sounds were much closer than before. She paused and turned on her own axis. Selina tried hard to make out the source, her eyes sliding hastily into the six corridors that branched off from her position. Disorientation. These pipes were not her territory and there was something in this stinking water that most likely moved here every day, if not lived here. At that moment the thief had frozen into a pillar of salt. She was unsure how to proceed now. A slight tremor under her feet made the decision for her. The shock grew stronger and with a glance to the right, Catwoman recognized the lizard-like scales that snaked towards her with unimaginable speed. Her eyes widened even more. Only a second later did she sprint towards the nearest platform and hit her claws in the crumbling concrete to bridge the too great distance. Behind her, the wood was cut into thousands of small pieces. Selina landed on a swaying plank and tried to control her breath. The bubbling got louder again. The body in the water was directly on its way to her again after realizing that there was no one on the last platform. The black-haired woman looked at her gloves and jumped sideways against the concrete wall in time, when the terrible sound of wood bursting through the hallways again echoed. Her claws dug deep into the grey wall. "Ah, little kitten, come down to play!" The booming, deep voice below made her shudder. A reptile rose from the water, there was no other way to describe this creature. The red eyes sparkled menacingly, the nostrils snorted powerfully. It growled, laughing out loud, and spat amused: “Don't make it so difficult for yourself, dinner! Your death will be quick if you come down now, I promise!” The creature slowly built itself up to its full size and suddenly Catwoman was aware that this thing could grab her directly from the wall with one movement. She jumped a few inches higher and began to flee forward.

“You silly humans are all the same!”, thundered the crocodile before it hurried unexpectedly fast after her. Selina tried hard to get a head start on the creature, but the concrete was not a preferred material for moving quickly. Too daring a jump made this fact clear to her. With too much swing, her claws hit the ceiling on her left foot and she completely lost her footing. The porous mixture crumbled into the dirty water with a splash. The thief was holding on to the ceiling, looking for a firmer place for her foot. The creature below seemed to be watching her with pure amusement. As if to confirm, it laughed deeply and growled happily: “I sense your fear, kitten. Just keep it up, yeah? I like to chase my dinner!” Inferior. At that moment, Selina felt inferior to her enemy. A feeling she hated profoundly. She clenched her teeth and looked ahead. Nobody was superior to her! A narrowing, possibly for a previously planned ventilation shaft, was a good four hundred meters in front of her in the wall. This thing would certainly not fit into it. The black-haired woman took a few deep breaths and planned her route with practised eye. Targeted steps and jumps. One after another. Selina let out a low scream and crawled towards the opening with a few jumps. The water under her splashed up to the ceiling. She breathed quickly. It would be a very close call, but the thief had a slight head start. The creature struck her with its paw, caught her lightly on the thigh, but then fell sideways into the water. A sharp pain pierced her body, but she couldn't give in now. Taking advantage of the monster's slip, Catwoman hurried into the opening and fell backward onto the slippery concrete floor. She slid a few meters back into the corridor. Just in time when the scaly claw reached into the narrowing, searching for its prey. The claw scratched the floor a few times, but then pulled back. The crocodile's ugly face appeared, the red eyes glowing with lust for murder. It hissed softly: “Don't feel too safe, pussy cat. You are in my territory now!” A loud splash told her that the thing must have retreated back into the water. She then dropped her head on the floor and groaned in pain.

A look at the thigh revealed a superficial but heavily bleeding scratch wound. Selina swallowed hard, sat up a little and reached into her belt pouch at the hip. Her shaky fingers found the bandages. After a few attempts, the black-haired woman managed to apply a pressure bandage on the injury. The thief tried to calm her breath and clenched her teeth tightly. She had just closed her eyes for a second when the low growl came from very close behind her. In shock, Catwoman turned her gaze backwards, only to stare into the grinning face of the monster - a few inches in front of her. The narrowing was just a small passage to another tunnel system! Selina tried to flee, but the inhumanly strong paw closed like a vice around her torso and gradually choked her breath. The thing laughed triumphantly: “I have you now, small kitten! Surprise, surprise. Who would have thought? And now I'll break every single bone of you before I eat you whole! Any last words, pussy cat?” The crocodile slowly pulled her out of the shaft, unimpressed by her attempts to cling to the firmament with her claws. Selina lost her last grip and screamed out loud as she fell backwards into the dirty water. “No, it can't end like this!”, she thought with fear. Her body gasped for air, the disorientation in the water made her almost panic. The thief finally penetrated the surface of the water with her head and found herself facing the ugly monster. Suddenly her body was indescribably cold. "Your fear smells so good, kitten!", purred the monster contentedly, licking its pointy teeth. It continued to hold her in the tightening grip. Selina thought she was already hearing the breaking of her ribs when the monster suddenly stopped. The nostrils quivered, apparently sensing something new in the area. A quiet male voice confirmed the crocodile's suspicion: “Waylon Jones, where are your manners? Didn't the therapy in Arkham do anything for you?” The creature wanted to turn around at the voice, when a sharp scythe pierced his shoulder. The monster spat a loud, deep scream and loosened its grip on Catwoman. The blade twisted a few times in the solid flesh until the creature let go of its victim and plunged back into the water. It was visibly withdrawn, a trail of blood in the dirty broth followed his retreat. The ugly face appeared once again briefly, snorted angrily under pain: "You will regret that, Doc!" Then it was gone.

Selina was breathing a little quieter than before, briefly closed her eyes before turning to the man behind her. The thief suddenly turned pale. She recognized the figure with the gas mask, the hemp rope around his neck and the worn, dirty clothes. Scarecrow. The silence fell between them. Apart from the dripping of the water and the occasional puff of breath from the filters of the gas mask, nothing could be heard. Only after a few seconds did the man grasp the hem of the mask in order to pull it from his face in one flowing movement. He attached it to his burlap sack, walked slowly over to Catwoman and put his arms around her torso. Selina reacted instinctively. She scratched his thin arm once with her claws and hissed. A hand went tight around her throat, the needles on the gloves hovering only millimetres above her skin. His suddenly melodious voice laughed harshly: "Do that again and I'll throw you back to Croc! Or no, no, no, no. I just skin you, little kitten, and sell your fur to the highest bidder. Or just keep it to me and sew a mask from this rare material! " He gave a hysterical laugh when a sudden jerk shot through his body. The expression in the man's eyes had suddenly changed, the laughter had abruptly stopped. "I or rather we try to help you, Catwoman, even if Scarecrow might not have given you that impression." Selina looked at him in shock, which prompted him to continue calmly: "Now listen carefully to me, Miss Kyle. Waylon will not take long to come back, his flesh heals by itself after all. He is not a... ", the man paused briefly, thought a second about his next words and then continued," ... man, that licks his wounds and leaving such incidents without retaliation. We have to get out of here. Immediately. What you do afterwards is up to you, but we're in serious danger right now.” The thief held her sore thigh and gasped softly. The alarm bells were ringing louder than ever in her head. The man suddenly held out his hand to her, the blue eyes in the sunken eye sockets fixed on her. Selina swallowed chunks of a large lump in her throat and hesitantly took hold of the cold fingers of her counterpart. A miniature smile crept on the pale face of the former psychiatrist.

A small grin curled up in the corner of the thief's mouth. The doctor had taken care of the scratch wound, but kept his word after the treatment. The black-haired woman had been free to go. Following her nature as a cat, she went straight back to the heart of the city to resume her normal life. Selina looked down at the snow-covered street and stopped on one of the many manhole cover. Hot air came out of it, froze instantly in the cold. She would avoid the sewer system for the next thousand years. Selina smiled mischievously as she pressed some snow into the small holes in the lid with her feet. The scratch had healed pretty well in the meantime, but an uncomfortable drawing spread as soon as she came near the underground passages. A terrifying experience. It was only after the second visit to Jonathan that Selina really understood why he had helped her in the first place. The former doctor was known to be obsessed with fear, even if he could no longer feel fear himself. That is why he studied all the more the reactions triggered by fear in other living beings and that evening it was a unique field research for him. Without his assistance he could watch the thief in a moment of absolute panic, fear and despair. After this realization, Selina had given him a hurtful slap in the face. There was then five days of silence between them, until Jonathan broke the ice and apologized to her in a very awkward-sounding text message via SMS. The black-haired woman and Harley had been horribly amused at the fact that he was actually still using conventional methods like texting. The thief smiled happily when the memories of the evening with the Harlequin came up. At the same time, however, the question arose again, why she actually continued to visit the sinister doctor since the incident. The first time she had at least had the excuse of a follow-up examination. In the meantime, however, there have been five more meetings with the former psychiatrist, which admittedly had little to do with the incident. Harley's lively voice still echoed in her ears: “What is wrong about visiting John? You can just admit it, Kitty – you somehow like him."

She had, of course, vehemently denied this absurd claim. Jonathan? No thanks, never. She was maybe a bit desperate when it came to men, as none came close to her level, but it wasn't that bad. Inwardly, however, her mind often began to play the same game that she had with Bruce. "What speaks in favour of you liking him and what speaks against it?" "What are the advantages and disadvantages of getting involved with Scarecrow?" She admonished herself in such moments not to let it get that far to think about it . Anyway, Jonathan was too absorbed in his work. Selina hesitated and cursed inwardly. It could have been relative to the black-haired woman whether the smart doctor could find time for her in a probably toxic relationship. It just wasn't up for discussion – or was it? Selina pulled the hood a little lower over her face and crossed the street to the docks. The port area has been a fairground for the underground elite for ages. An image, that this district would probably never get rid of. She shivered heavily and her fingers found their way into the pockets of her winter jacket. It felt twice colder by the water. The wind swept around the little fishermen's houses with a hard hand, covering them with powdery snow. The thief only growled softly when another wind caught her and chilled her cheeks. With quick steps she looked for the twenty-fifth warehouse, which was much easier to find without a damn snowstorm. Now she was standing in front of this door again. An inconspicuous, somewhat sunken wooden door in the middle of nowhere, already attacked by the salt in the sea air. The cast iron handle had become brittle, the rust had eaten around the handle. The hinges were in no better condition. Selina bit her lower lip and made a fist with her right hand. What was she doing here again? "Visiting a friend," she muttered to herself, "you are visiting a friend." She knocked twice on the door. Footsteps, barely audible to other people, moved toward the entrance, followed by the click of a few locks. The door slid open slowly and two icy blue eyes looked at her first sceptically, but then almost relaxed.

As usual, Jonathan didn't say a word, just stepped aside to let his visitor in. Selina nodded to him with a smile, entered quickly without bothering to remove her shoes on the doormat. His hiding place was one of the cleanest of the rogues she knew, but still not particularly inviting and as long as he didn't complain, she would of course get her way. As expected of her, Jonathan said nothing about it this time either. He went to the table with a variety of liquors and looked at her expectantly. "A sherry, my dear." The thief sat down in one of the two comfortable, if somewhat antiquated, red armchairs. Visiting a friend? Visiting an accomplice? Visiting a partner? Selina smiled mysteriously and rested her chin on her hand. Maybe. Time passed incredibly quickly in Jonathan Crane's presence. Selina watched the man across from her carefully. There was a certain exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles below them supported the assumption that he had not slept enough in the past few weeks. He leaned tiredly in the upholstery of the armchair, his head tucked back. His long fingers were cramped around the already empty whiskey glass. Jonathan had talked roughly about his work - an endless chain of complicated formulas and hypotheses on the subject of fear. The thief smiled and sipped her sherry. The professor of phobias dealt with fears. How very surprising. The black-haired woman began to wave the liquor in her hand when she whispered softly: "May I ask you a question, my dear?" Her razor-sharp, green eyes fixed him with a trace of curiosity. The curiosity of a cat. She didn't wait for an answer from him and added, smiling: “Why are you doing all this? All this effort, the constant trouble with the law and especially Batman. You are a seasoned man. Academics with distinction and over twenty years of practical experience. What is all this for, Jonathan? What makes an intelligent, distinguished man like you put his perfect, orderly life at risk?"

His slim body winced a little at the question. Selina could hear a low sigh. The older man ran a hand through his thin brown hair, but remained silent. Catwoman raised an eyebrow, finished the sherry with two more sips, and placed the glass on the massive side table. The seconds stretched out into minutes. The stinging of the alcohol in her throat was already ebbing when Jonathan turned his sunken face to her and said in an alarming calm voice: "I'm ready to answer, Miss Kyle, but only on the premise that we will play a game of Backgammon while we talk." A smile crept onto her lips as she slowly nodded. The former psychiatrist then pushed himself out of the chair with a groan and stepped into an adjoining room of his hiding place. Selina watched him go, almost amused. The thief quickly understood how to have a proper conversation with the initially strange doctor. Anyone who didn't know him could well suspect he was not interested in social interactions with other people. Alone the fact of his constant sifting through the counterparts brain could lead to this fallacy. Of course that wasn't true. Rather, Jonathan was concerned about a high-quality exchange of knowledge for which it required a conversation partner on an equal footing. Catwoman stretched with relish and purred softly. A pleasant scent of lavender played around her nose. The silence in the doctor's office was a welcome relief from the hustle and bustle in her apartment. Even if she loved every cat like her own child, every now and then Catwoman wanted a place just for herself. A place that offered an escape from the daily rush of the city. Selina rubbed her tense neck with her fingers. The black-haired woman knew she would never leave Gotham City. Even if the skyscrapers collapsed like a house of cards, there would be no reason to actually leave. Her lips formed a small smile. In Gotham she was born and in Gotham she would die. This city was her home and would be her graveyard, when her ninth life was gone.

The thief was torn from her thoughts when the doctor stepped back to the table with the board game. Catwoman had to get used to his quiet steps. Usually it was she who sneaked up on others. He put the board on the rough wood and opened the container for the stones. His long, bony fingers built up the basic position in a practised routine. During this activity, too, he did not say a word. Selina smiled, clasped her hands and followed his every move with her sharp, green eyes. Even with the simple construction of the game, Jonathan seemed careful. She bit her lower lip slightly. It was an act of total concentration, almost sublime, every pressure on the stones deliberately measured. In short: the epitome of the word control. Her eyes roamed leisurely over his relaxed-looking face. What a deceptive picture. Catwoman had already met his second, chaotic personality and no matter how relaxed the professor might seem now, the monster in him could in principle appear at any second. A wolf in sheep's clothing. His blue eyes suddenly looked directly into hers and he spoke calmly: "Would you like to begin this game, Miss Kyle?" His lean body took a seat in the red chair, his gaze still entwined with hers. The thief smiled and met his opals with her natural playfulness. She took the dice and let it dance skilfully through her fingers. "You're very special indeed, Jonathan Crane," she whispered softly and tilted her head to one side, running her free hand through her dark, silky hair. He snorted at the comment, leaned back a little further in the chair. Selina could almost hear the clockwork going crazy in his head. Did his mind ever rest? Probably not. The thief licked a little over her bottom lip, briefly looked disparagingly at the white dice before turning back to him: "We haven't even started to play and you already determine the rules of the game. And that's so latent that I almost didn't trip over this trap. Don't you think that's a little unfair, darling? ”A small smile crept onto Scarecrow's sunken face. A direct hit. Catwoman put a finger to her lips and nibbled lightly on the tip, then stroked the smooth top of the dice gently. She let it finally roll onto the board. While the cube was still looking for an end position, the thief whispered: “In Backgammon, the dice decide who starts. Surely you will be able to accept this small little loss of control, do you, my dear? ”A three crept into the corner of her eye as the dice came to a standstill. The black dots spoke a silent, almighty argument in the atmosphere. Selina continued to look him in the eye and patiently waited for his reaction.

After a few seconds the professor finally stirred. His leathery-looking fingers paused briefly over the dice, but then grabbed the sides and rolled it back and forth a few times with the tips of his fingers. Jonathan watched the numbers with a mysterious smile as he calmly replied: "Are you up for a little mind game, Miss Kyle? Who's in control if we play by the traditional rules of the game?” His fingers released the dice towards the board. Instead of following the geometric, rolling figure, he fixed on her green eyes again. He went on cautiously: “I've already worked through both scenarios with the offer to you in my head. Whether you have the preference or not is only marginally important to me any more at this moment. But how is it for you? Well, you have to wait until the die is cast - quite the opposite of what you could archive with agreeing with me. My generous offer would have provide a clear, unambiguous starting point and an opportunity to plan ahead. I didn't think you were so willing to take a risk, Miss Kyle, but of course I accept your decision.” Selina shuddered at his words. Once again she reminded herself that the elite of Arkham Asylum sat in front of her, even on both sides of the treatment room. The former psychiatrist was considered one of the most successful employees who had ever worked in the closed ward. A real expert on the treatment of anxiety disorders. After changing sides, he was now one of the few patients who were virtually resistant to all therapeutic approaches and who ensured regular exchanges of broken, frightened doctors. The dice had come to a rest in the meantime, but none of them dared to look down at the board. He didn't blink in direct eye contact with her and it felt like the icy blue buried a few centimetres deep in her head. Selina put her hand flat over the die, hiding the number. Finally she closed her opals and whispered muffled: "I'll start." An almost amused smile twitched in the corners of the mouth of the former psychiatrist. He then leaned back relaxed in the chair and merely nodded to her, a sign that she could begin. Selina bit her lower lip, inwardly cursed loudly at herself. The words had actually come out of her own mouth, but they felt incredibly strange in her mind. “Please don't blame yourself for this decision, Miss Kyle. After all, it wasn't yours from the very start."

Catwoman looked at the thin man, puzzled by his statement. He rested his chin on his right fist and spoke way too calmly: “I didn't give you a chance to determine yourself at this moment. And yes, I am happy to accept that it will worry you internally or even frighten you a little. Your fear of being inferior has one, pardon the pun, terrible attraction for me.” She remained silent at his remark, just looked down at the board. The thief frowned and ran her fingers over her chin. It was her turn. Selina lingered a few more seconds in her rigidity. This was more than just a simple game of Backgammon. This was a bitter fight of brains and this realization awakened the animal that had previously been slumbering in her. A game that suits her perfectly. The dice rolled on the velvety, dark green background of the playing field. Catwoman studied the initial situation and spoke softly: “What's so special about fear, Jonathan? Why the fascination with something you should actually run away from?” Her fingers set the first stones on their way to the goal. The first step was taken. Selina took a deep breath, leisurely sat up and stared into the gaunt man's eyes. Jonathan's lips were not more than a thin line on his pale face. The question seemed to preoccupy him. That gave her time to plan more moves. After what felt like an eternity, the former psychiatrist leaned forward a little, grabbed the dice and set it in motion. His fingers slowly brushed the rough wood of the edge of the field. “What's so special about fear,” repeated Jonathan dryly. He sighed barely audibly, paid only a fraction of his attention to the numbers and began to explain almost unemotionally: “Fear, Miss Kyle, drives us. Fear is the engine of our whole human existence. Do you remember the night in the sewers. What do you think gave you so much strength at that moment to master the long jumps and even ignore the horrible pain in your leg? Naturally adrenaline, the stress hormone, but let's take a step back here. Why or rather how did you signalize that a stressful situation needs to be dealt with? I have some suggestions for a possible answer here. How about the fear of being inferior or failing. Afraid to feel pain, even to be tormented by Waylon before he stops playing with his food and finally puts an end to your torture. Maybe also the fear of dying and being there alone without leaving a trace on earth. Fear is paramount here, Miss Kyle. That's why we're now sitting here and playing a game of Backgammon."

While he was explaining he had made his move, his thin hands were already resting in his lap again. He looked collected, calm, absolutely controlled. Yet the thief could feel that something was different in him as soon as they talked about fear. As cool as his voice might sound, there was something indefinable in his icy eyes. A deeply buried feeling that was looking for a way out of several turns in his calculating mind. Selina looked at his petrified face and the now cramped posture. Her thoughts slipped back to Scarecrow again. He was like a powder keg packed with broken glass and nails, ready to burst at any second. Jonathan rarely let his second personality get the better of him, but when the fuse burned the collateral damage was immense. A manifestation of overflowing feelings. The sinister desire in Scarecrow's twisted mind then oozed from the depths of his eye sockets like boiling, pitch-black tar and wetted the otherwise orderly world in indescribable chaos. In these moments he even competed with the Joker's destructiveness. The black-haired woman pulled away from his petrified face and looked down at the board. She was playing against Jonathan Crane now, not Scarecrow. A smile crawled onto her lips. As the dice rolled over the surface again, she could almost grasp the tension between them. Selina suppressed a laugh, tilted her head to the side to play with her dark hair and spoke mysteriously: “Let's not fool ourselves for a moment here, Jonathan. Where does your fascination for fear really comes from?” A faint clink made the thief startled. The former psychiatrist had put the bottle with the whiskey on the edge of his glass a little too quickly and poured himself a generous amount of the orange liquid. His thin fingers slowly turned the cap back on the bottle. The icy blue met her blazing green again.

He opened his mouth a little, paused in that position for a moment, before beginning to speak calmly: "There are things you shouldn't know, Miss Kyle. Everyone has inner demons, which they are better to carry to their graves. So I don't allow myself to answer your question for the moment and hope you're willing to accept my decision.” Catwoman gave a muffled laugh at this answer. She could hear him snorting softly, followed by the soft crumpling of the chair in which he was shifting restlessly back and forth. The speed of his reaction alone was a clear sign for Catwoman that she had scratched a sore spot on the former psychiatrist. The thief played with the round token, placed it on her chin and kept tapping her skin lightly while thinking. Was it risky to continue digging at this point with her claws? To tear open the wound further and to feel in the warm, pulsating flesh until it hit the root of all evil in his mind? The black-haired woman couldn't hide a smile any longer as she placed the stone eight squares down on the field. Today was probably not the right time for it. "We all have our little, dirty secrets, my dear”, said Catwoman as she leaned back, her fingers slowly intertwined, "and if you don't want to share yours, I'll have to live with it for better or for worse." She put one of her legs over the other, grabbed her knee in both hands and look playfully into his eyes. The thief could almost hear his heavy swallowing. The Adam's apple moved all too clearly on his throat. His fingernails kept tapping the glass briefly. Jonathan took a deep breath, took a small sip of the whiskey and began to reply: “There are some secrets that people can keep together, of course. Such secrets that can even lead to feeling closer to the person. Such as your knowledge of the Dark Knight's real identity. Of course, this requires a high level of trust between the persons.” He paid his attention to the game for a moment, set the dice in motion and put his glass on the side table.

The wind whistled through a few leaks in the window seals. Selina briefly watched the snow drifting through the fogged windows when she turned back to the professor: "Can we please leave Batman out of our conversation. It's enough for me that Harley and Pamela keep asking about his identity.” A low laugh made her puzzled. Jonathan hadn't even laughed once since she'd met him. All the more surprised was the amused expression in his opals, followed by the barely noticeable smile on his rough lips. He pushed his round glasses up his nose a little and spoke coolly: “Please don't think I'm so naive, Miss Kyle. If I had wanted to get his name out of you, I would have used different methods from the start. No, it's a good thing that I don't know anything about the Bat other than its dark form.” The former psychiatrist fiddled with the drawer of the table next to him and pulled out a small cedar box. The clasp opened with a click. He pulled out a grenadilla cigarette holder and a pack of Davidoff cigarettes. Jonathan fished one of the coffin nails from the container, put it on the holder and lit it with a match. After a long drag on the cigarette, the professor let himself slide a little deeper into the chair and pushed the smoke out of the side of his mouth. She had given him permission to smoke in her presence as long as he tried to keep the fumes away from her. Without further ado, his fingers set two pieces in motion one after the other. During his turn he spoke in an almost neutral tone: “I have not forgotten your introductory question, Miss Kyle. The motives a person has to move from thinking to action are complex, but my background was and is scientifical research. In a world like ours, in which clever minds are slowed down by laws and some unworthy creatures are given a right to life that they would otherwise not be entitled to, it is inevitable to turn against the natural order in personal development. Whether I like this fact or not is not up for debate any more."

Selina shook her head a little and rethought about this explanation twice in her head. Before she could reply, Jonathan anticipated her with a question: “You know that I live according to the quid pro quo principle when it comes to contact with other people. So allow me to ask what exactly drives you to your actions, Miss Kyle?” He took another deep drag on the coffin nail and let the ashes fall into the designated ashtray on the table. The thief gave a small smile. This question was probably unavoidable. She took the dice securely in her hand, weighed it around a bit and after a few seconds of reflection replied drily: "I think a wild mixture of many factors." Her fingers released the cube and looked for her glass. The sherry stung in her throat. Selina licked her bottom lip and continued softly: “For one thing, I want to survive in Gotham and let's be honest: stealing is a very lucrative business. What I steal together in one evening, others don't even earn in the whole year. On the other hand, I can also do something good for the people of the lower classes. I've lived on the street myself long enough and know how rough times have become. Sharing the money or food with them makes me feel good.” She felt his eyes carefully watching her speak. He seemed to perceive every word and analyse it deeply. The former psychiatrist put the cigarette holder down on the ashtray, took his glass and slowly swirled the whiskey in the dim light. He looked lost in thought into the liquid. "We both move on a very narrow line, Miss Kyle", said Jonathan when he looked slowly up. "I admit that our moral concepts may differ, but both lead us to turning against the law or staying in its grey areas."

Catwoman clicked her tongue irritated. The black-haired woman put her head sideways in her hand and kept eye contact with the doctor. Moral. A word that was barely worth a penny in Gotham as it seemed to her. The thief was all the more astonished at the use of the word from the mouth of a reckless rogue, who was considered extremely unscrupulous and who had probably not missed any atrocity in his long underground career. She wrapped her black hair around her index finger when she replied calmly: “What moral concept, my dear? Don't get me wrong, but the past few months you haven't exactly covered yourself with fame. Many have scruples about working with Joker, but it doesn't seem to be a huge problem for you. You actually let yourself be bought by the entire underground and work for the side that can currently pay the most money. Where's the morale there, Jonathan?” The wind briefly took hold of the fire in the fireplace. The flames hit the air wildly. It was to be seen who would get burned in this fight. Selina got up from the chair and stretched a little. She needed some movement. The warmth of the room mingled with the heat of the alcohol in her blood.

His voice fell almost gently in her ears: “It's true. I work for whoever can pay me the best. I worked a long time for Falcone, three weeks later for Maroni and in the end I attacked them both with Joker. Still, I have a moral codex, Miss Kyle.” She heard him get up and slowly walk towards her. Catwoman didn't turn to him. A cold breath on the back of her neck signalled that he had to stand right behind her. He continued with his low and nearly whispering voice: “I work for everyone, but not with everyone. You steal to collect the money for your own ends. I am offering my services to do basically the same thing. I won't deny it: I've worked for humans, or rather monsters, where any normal mortal would have likely fled. It doesn't fill me with pride or disgust when I look back on it, but my research literally devours money. On the other hand, I choose my work partners very carefully. I would never work with someone who does not share my moral standards. My moral to fight for a better world in the spirit of scientifically research. A world without fears. Mister Tetch shares a passion for the human, fragile psyche and the ways to break it in the hope of extracting new therapeutic approaches from it. With Mister Nygma I share an interest in the battle of brains, the trial of strength on an intellectual level and the fight against the neglect of the intellectual elite. I would take Jervis and Edward to fight at my side at any time and at the same time accept the risk of working on their goals for them free of any charge."

Selina sighed softly. She was still in the process of morally putting herself above him and this explanation didn't change that fact either. The thief turned to him and looked into his blue eyes, looking for a trace of remorse. The icy cold inside confirmed her suspicions. She whispered softly in his direction: “You could use your talent for so many good things, Jonathan. Like in the night you saved me.” The black-haired woman placed her fingers lovingly on his thin cheek and tenderly caressed the frozen-looking skin. The thief caught herself thinking of worn leather by the light touch. He did not withdraw from her, lingered quietly in front of her and opened his mouth to say something. Not a word came out, just a soft sigh. Selina slowly ran her fingertips over his clearly palpable cheekbones. Her voice was just a breath: “Where is this man, John? Where is the doctor who took such good care of my wound? Where is the psychologist who had spoken to me sensitively when I got out of the sewer, just steps away to have a panic attack?” The former psychiatrist continued to look into her eyes, his glasses slowly slipping off his nose again. He cleared his throat, pushed the thin metal up between the thin frame and spoke for the first time that evening with a hint of uncertainty: “He's here, Miss Kyle, right next to a monster. We both inhabit this head with a well-functioning brain and yet we use it very differently. Where I do good, he does bad. Where I heal, he hurts. Where I calm down, he fires up. Whenever I try to return to normal, he seeks out the depths of this world. It is pointless to look for a place for me in this society."

The thief stopped her movements and studied his face. A look of sadness crossed his frozen features. The black-haired woman let her free hand fall to his fingers, slowly cradling them. At that moment she recognized a certain disorientation in his doing, a buried desire to get back on a solid, bright path and escape his greatest fear. Selina put her hand flat on his cheek and warmed the cool skin. Loneliness. She took another deep breath and spoke softly to him: “Everyone has their place in society and contributes to it. We can only choose whether our contribution is positive or negative. Look at me, I am a thief and still bring more joy to the city than some police officers. I have a lot of friends around me on all sides. I can trust Harley, Pam and even Batman. Maybe even you, Jonathan. Think about it, my dear.” The thief stood on tiptoe and gently covered his lips with hers. They moved slowly, waiting for the professor to react. His lips stayed calm, completely unmoved. Selina broke the one-sided kiss. Even if he hadn't reacted, something changed in his eyes. A spark of hope. Catwoman gave him a small smile and slowly stepped back from him towards the door. He clearly had a choice. It was in his hand either to continue on his way to destroy Gotham or to embark on a new path.

[clawsanddiamonds]

IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Selina Kyle / Catwoman

FACECLAIM: Morena Baccarin

AFFILIATIONS: Most notably, herself.

AGE (physical age as well, if different): 37

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? Secret

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION? Hell no, unless you count thievery as an occupation. Her pockets are deep, certainly enough to sustain a temporary stay in Sokovia.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? No

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM: +Bonus: LOVED BY CATS. + Adaptable and independent: She will do what it takes to survive. Selina’s survival instincts are almost unparalleled - whatever it takes to make it, she will do it. She has worked so hard to create herself from the ground (under, even) up, and refuses to let anything stand in her way. She makes her own rules and only follows those, and even then sometimes changes things up. + Charismatic: Social engineering is the name of the Catwoman game, and it is something Selina excels at. Despite the manipulation piece, there is no denying that Selina Kyle has charm and will be the center of attention if that’s what she desires. She excels at manipulating social scenarios to exactly what she desires them to be, and to be successful at that she certainly has to be charming with dazzling smiles and easy-flowing conversation. + Intelligent: Strength and intelligence go hand-in-hand in the world Selina has found herself in, and she was blessed to not be lousy of either. Selina’s intelligence is often as quick as her whip, and she’s quick on her feet (ha) and outside of the box as well. Her heists and plans are usually overly organized and well thought out with a large deal of thought and planning behind them, always with many contingencies in case things go awry. Selina is able to process things very quickly and react in kind, an absolute necessity in her line of work. - Selfish / narcissistic: At the end of the day, Selina’s one and only priority is herself. While, at times, she certainly can show compassion and concern for others, her biggest concern is her own wellbeing and her comfort. Selina’s need to be self-serving and independent is number one, and overrides most other desires and needs in her life. - Distrusting / doesn’t play well with others: Letting people in is something that Selina avoids at all costs, considering her history and the things that she has been through. Her initial instinct is to distrust (and usually dislike), and it is hard to sway away from the initial impression. After all, her survival has depended on this many times over. Feeling attached or contained is anxiety-driving for her, and therefore, she avoids it. Those that she does let in and trust are few and far between, and those relationships are often complicated: Selina is not above sabotaging these relationships out of fear, and to prove that she needs no one. - Calculating: Selina is always ten steps ahead, which can certainly be seen positively in many lights but her intentions are usually poor. When pushed, Selina can be manipulative, cruel and devious. Her cunning is always razor sharp and her plans and heists will use strategies crafted precisely to the weaknesses available to her. After all, anything you can do, she can do better.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: peak human condition, extreme agility, near perfect balance and reflexes, acrobatics, hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, boxing, disguise, stealth, thievery, proficient with most weaponry she can get her paws on.

WEAKNESSES: Physically, she’s absolutely human so there are absolutely downfalls to that. Personality wise, she’s absolutely unable to back down from a challenge and struggles with a conflicting internal moral compass quite a bit and has a pathological need for freedom.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA? In short? The masquerade hosted by the UN had certainly caught her attention, and Selina found herself an alias and managed to snag an invitation. Unfortunately, things got a little dicey before she managed to snag any real items of interest, even if she did make off with more than a few wallets and some jewelry. However, consider her interest piqued enough for her to make a temporary stay in Sokovia after the disaster that was the masquerade. After all, there’s definitely more she can do here.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT? No.

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER: Selina quietly donates funds under various aliases to group homes and charities dedicated to young children that grew up in similar situations as she did, trying to save other girls from the horrors she had to face so young. Selina was severely claustrophobic as a child and teen, and still feels a sense of panic when enclosed in tight spaces. She has an extreme fear of being trapped, doesn’t like to feel blocked in, though has been able to hone in one her ability to keep the panic down as she’s gotten older. Selina thoroughly enjoys dancing, in just about any facet. It’s a way to let loose, almost like fighting without the bruises and the blood. Dislikes background noises, such as music for the sake of just having it on or the TV on in the background. Selina much prefers the quiet. Selina associates Catwoman almost as a separate entity, a separate part of herself that she has become reliant on. She feels as though she is a different person when she puts on the suit - stronger, angrier, less concerned about the consequences of her actions. Catwoman has become a part of her, personally as well as professionally. Selina has a slight sense of disgust for the vigilantes that include children in their antics and take them on as sidekicks. She works alongside them at times and has a desperate urge to protect the children, especially after seeing most of them injured or tortured and some of them die.

CHARACTER BIO — tw: everything. e v e r y t h i n g. drugs, alcohol, pedophilia mentions, teenage prostitutes, murder, suicide ...everything.                                                                                                                                          

In life, there are really two choices: you adapt, or you die. Selina prided herself on avoiding the latter, which meant she excelled at the former. A tragic backstory goes hand-in-hand with most Gothamites, and Selina was no exception: her mother died by her own hand when Selina was just a child, leaving her and her sister in the care of a father unfit and unwilling for the job, leaving the girls to fend for themselves. Social workers made quick work of plucking Selinga and Magdalene from the Kyle household, depositing them instead into Sprang Hill, a group home of sorts. Selina found that Sprang Hill was not much better than being out on her own, and found herself fighting to keep her and her sister safe. Her behavior was considered less than appropriate and ideal, and so Selina was sent away from Sprang Hill at the age of eleven, separating her from her sister. Sea Gate was worse than Sprang Hill, worse than Selina could have imagined, and so the fight for survival continued. The director of Sea Gate was cruel and believed in harsh discipline, and seemed to have a mission to break Selina and make her compliant, though he was largely unsuccessful. She was about thirteen when she learned of the director’s crimes, primarily embezzling money from the program, and was bold enough to brag about her findings. This resulted in Selina finding herself back on the streets, but not before the man in question tried to have her killed: Selina was drugged, thrown into a bag and tossed into the ocean to prevent her from going to the authorities. (Silly man, didn’t he know that cats have nine lives?) Selina survived, and returned to Sea Gate to demand that all records of her be destroyed and that she be let go, scott free. Back on the street, Selina joined the Alleytown Gang, which was a community of sorts consisting of pickpockets and thieves run by a woman who went by Mama Fortuna. Selina was already a skilled pickpocket and thief, fierce to her very core, but this was where she was able to further hone in on her thieving skills. However, her time with the group did not last long, as Selina found herself suffocating under Fortuna’s thumb. Survival instinct kicked in again, and Selina was forced to take extraordinary measures: at the age of fifteen, she resorted to prostitution to earn money to keep herself afloat. It was here that she met Sylvia, a mother hen of sorts to help guide Selina through the new world she found herself in. Sylvia did her best to protect Selina, and found herself beaten nearly to death when she took on customers too rough for the green-Selina to handle. However, Sylvia’s protections didn’t last long as Selina dug a hole for herself with a pimp named Stan, who Selina began to see personally outside of work as well. She thought she was in love at seventeen with a man at least twice her age that abused her heavily. She was left in an alley after a particularly bad confrontation with him, and the detective questioning her in the hospital got nothing but lip and attitude back despite trying to help her. Selina was left with a phone number of a man that the detective said would at least teach her how to defend herself: Ted Grant. Initially, Selina put the number aside and went right back to work on the streets and right back to Stan. She was given more “kinky” clients with a slinky cat costume to go with it, playing the part of a dominatrix for her customers. It was then that Selina decided to call the number she’d been given and train with Grant, deciding she needed to put her safety first in even trickier situations. Selina took to training like a cat to cream; she was able to learn an eclectic mix of fighting skills to have in her back pocket for when things went awry. After a client gave Selina a whip to use in her dominatrix role, Selina went to Ted and demanded he teach her how to use it as a weapon rather than a toy used for sex work. Selina took another young prostitute under her wing, a teenager named Holly that Selina saw quite a bit of herself in: too young for this, but out of options and Selina did what she could to protect her, much as Sylvia had once done for her. While she was training with Ted, Selina met and began working with Stark, a criminal mastermind that helped her hone in further on her thievery skills. Stark took Selina on as something like a partner in his crime industry, and Selina kept this a secret and continued to work as a prostitute as a cover. It was around this time that Selina witnessed Batman in action for the first time and saw him escape from the police. She felt inspired by him: anonymous, unstoppable, feared and used this inspiration when she donned the catsuit she’d been given to use as a dominatrix as her own costume to conceal her identity, reclaiming the suit for herself. Donning her catsuit as something akin to a suit of armor, Selina quit being a prostitute, beating her pimp (Stan) within an inch of his life and leaving him in the same alley that he’d left her for dead in. Luck would have it that as she unmasked herself, she would run into her sister for the first time since they’d been separated all those years ago. Overwhelmed and filled with a sense of dread and terror, Selina ran and this caused her sister to pursue her. Stan took note of this, and once recovered enough to enact his revenge, would kidnap Magdalene and use her as a tool to trap and contain Selina. The situation quickly escalated, with Batman saving Magdalene though Stan did not survive the encounter. Selina realized that wearing the catsuit made her feel different - empowered, enraged, and severely out of control. She swore she would never wear it again, not after the near-death of her sister and Stan’s demise. However, as fate would have it, Selina found herself slipping into the catsuit again after Holly was beaten nearly to death by a police officer who had hired the teen as a client. She nearly killed the officer, stopped by another intervention from Batman himself. Selina’s legacy as a career thief as Catwoman started there, primarily on the East End of Gotham where she targeted crime bosses with fewer morals than she had herself and deep pockets. She set her sights high and decided to go for gold and quickly climbed to the top, opting to plan a job against the one and only Carmine Falcone. She was half successful, clawing and permanently scarring Falcone’s face with the metal claws she used with her catsuit during the operation, though ended up needing a rescue from the one and only Batman himself yet again. The relationship between the Cat and the Bat remained conflicting as such: sometimes on the same side of the coin, while others on the opposite, with occasional team ups when they weren’t on opposing sides. A team up with Stark, her once-mentor, led to Selina betraying him and making off with the loot intended for both of them (valuable diamonds which would sustain her and her lifestyle for quite some time); this was a power move that surely proved that Selina was able to take care of herself, was controlled by no one and proved that she was an incredible thief in her own right. Selina Kyle was transformed. Street-kid turned criminal turned prostitute turned socialite with the money Catwoman procured from her heists. She was finally reaching the heights she never thought she could, what she felt she always deserved, and was licking up each and every second of it. Catwoman began to work internationally, organizing detailed and major heists globally rather than confining herself to Gotham. Catwoman continued to tip the scales into vigilantism at times when she was not off scoring, working with her own brand of personal justice on cases that she deemed worthy of her attention and action. However, despite it all, she always had her eyes on the prize and her priority was always set on one thing and one one thing only: herself.

EXTRAS —

Myers Briggs: ISTP Hogwarts house: Slytherin, Ravenclaw a close second Zodiac: Pisces Sin: Greed, Pride

[headfulloffantasies]

Birds Fly the Nest

Read on Ao3

Jim Gordon faces the unquenchable interest of the Gotham’s rogues into the romantic life of his daughter

1.

Jim Gordon heard that the Batmobile had soundproofing. That once a villain sat secured in the backseat, Batman drove in brooding silence. Gordon’s police cruiser was not the Batmobile.

Harley Quinn warbled into her hundredth verse of “One Million Bottles of Beer on the Wall” as the car sped towards Arkham at increasing speed. Montoya had a lead foot at the best of times. With a crazy clown singing off key in the back? She became a NASCAR racer. 

Gordon twisted in his seat. “Can you please stop?” He ground out at Quinn.

The clown grinned manically. “You’re no fun. I’m entertaining myself.”

Gordon rubbed his aching temples. “If I tell you a story, will you be entertained enough to shut up?”

“Yippee!” Harley bounced and clanked her handcuffs together. “Story time!”

Gordon cast his mind for anything at all to chatter about. “So, my daughter,” he starts. “Brought a new boy home last weekend.”

Montoya met his eye in the mirror. Gordon grimaced. 

He continued. “This kid is perfect. Like a glossy magazine, you know? Firm handshake, scholarship awards, good job, good family. But something about him felt odd. You know when you meet someone and you know they aren’t being genuine? And I think I’ve met him somewhere before. So I look him up. He’s a circus freak. Used to perform trapeze with his parents until they got murdered.”

Montoya raised an eyebrow. Harley gripped the caging between her and Gordon, utterly rapt.    

    Gordon swallowed and went on. “I like the kid, really. But what kind of guy can go through his parents’ murders and still be okay? Something has to be wrong with him, right? How can I let my girl keep seeing a guy like that?”

    Harley hummed. “D’you want my professional opinion?”

    Gordon faltered, forgetting that Harley had once been a renowned psychiatrist. 

    “I think,” Harley said. “That Papa Bear is too protective of his little girl. You gotta let a gal have her space. My daddy didn’t let me date. Not one boy ever looked at me my whole life living under daddy’s roof ‘cause they knew what daddy’d do to them if they tried.” Harley sighed. “I ran away from home, did you know that? I wasn’t there when mama died. And I missed daddy’s passing too. You gotta keep those ties if you don’t want to regret them.”

    Gordon suddenly viscerally remembered that Harley’s father had killed his wife and gotten the electric chair for it. He swallowed hard. “Right. Thank you, Doctor Quinzel.”

    “Oh sugar, call me Harley,” the clown laughed. She rattled the caging. “Are we there yet? Nine hundred thousand ninety- nine bottles of beer on the wall-,”

    Gordon groaned and buried his head in his hands.

2

    As the arresting officer, it fell to Gordon to interrogate Harvey Dent once he’d been cuffed to the table in police headquarters.

    Gordon set a cup of horrid cop coffee in front of Dent and took his seat across from the gangster.

“Harley says your daughter’s stepping out with some circus freak,” Two Face sneered. 

    Gordon slumped in his seat. What had possessed him to tell Harley Quinn, gossip extraordinaire, about Barbara and Richard? 

    “I remember your little girl,” Dent said. “You still keep her photo on your desk?”

    “Of course,” Gordon snapped. 

    “You ever lie to her, Jim?” Dent asked in a low growl. “She ever lie to you?”

    A shiver ran down Gordon’s spine. His mind flashed to purple bruises and shoddy excuses. “I don’t want to talk to you about Barbara, Harvey. Let’s talk about your attempted robbery.”

    Dent grunted. He leaned his elbows on the table. “You gotta be two-faced about men seeing your girl,” Dent advised. “Smile when she’s in the room and give him the what for when she’s not around.”

    “Thank you, Harvey,” Gordon said. “That’s very insightful.”

    “If you don’t, he’ll get the idea no one’s watching,” Two Face went on. “Think he can get up to something, if you catch my drift.”

    “Harvey,” Gordon forced his voice to remain even. “My daughter is a grown woman. I’m not sabotaging her relationships just because the guy is a freeloader.”

    “Freeloader?” Two Face laughed. The sound rasped between the halves of his ruined face. “You let your girl go out with a tramp?”

    “No,” Gordon corrected himself. “His family has money. He doesn’t work. He has a trust fund or something.”

    “That’s worse,” Two Face hissed. “Nepotism. Elitists!”

    Gordon abandoned Dent to his rant. He got up and walked out of the interview room. The door shut on Dent’s shouting.

3.

    Honestly, it was Gordon’s own fault. He leaned against the side of the police cruiser while he and Montoya waited for the arresting officer to bring Catwoman out of the museum. He complained to Montoya while they waited, not taking note of the approaching feline criminal with her escort.

    “This is the third time we’ve scheduled dinner with Richard, and he bailed every time. Last time, he got called into work. Tonight it was a family emergency. What did I say the first time was?”

    “Food poisoning,” Montoya responded automatically.

    “Sounds like a jerk,” Catwoman purred. 

    Gordon spun around. The arresting officer loaded the lady in her black catsuit into Gordon’s car. Gordon shot Montoya a panicked look. She returned a face that said “You started it.”

    Gordon got into the passenger’s seat hoping against hope that Catwoman wouldn’t feel up to chatting after her disastrous encounter with Nightwing.

    “Tell me more about Richard,” Catwoman suggested.

    Gordon groaned. “I regret every word I’ve ever spoken with Harley Quinn.”

    “So do I,” Catwoman grinned. “But tell me more anyways.”

    “I’m not discussing my daughter’s life with criminals,” Gordon said resolutely into the windshield.

    “You’ll tell Harley, but not me?” Catwoman pouted. “I’m hurt, kitten.” She leaned forward. “I’ll tell you this for free. Any man who can’t be bothered to meet his girlfriend’s parents is a cad. Break them off now.”

    “I said,” Gordon repeated. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

    Catwoman hissed. If she could, Gordon bet she’d dig her claws into his neck. Instead, they drove on in silence. 

4.

    Gordon placed a hand on a cuffed Edward Nygma and guided him into the back of the police cruiser. 

    Nygma flashed Gordon a grin over his shoulder. “Riddle me this, Commissioner. What has two sides and has everyone in Arkham talking?”

    “What the hell, Ed?” Gordon rubbed his eyes. “I don’t even want to guess.”

    “Spoilsport,” Nygma pouted. “I’ll tell you, but only because I am also curious about this scoop. Everyone wants to know about your sweet daughter’s trashy boyfriend.”

    It’s like playing that stupid telephone game, Gordon thought. Nothing he said came out right on the other end. “He’s not trashy, Ed. He’s bougie.” Gordon preened at his correct use of the hip word Barbara had taught him. 

    Ed scoffed. “A classist? You allow your daughter to date a class traitor?”

Gordon leaned his head against the car door. “I don’t want to get into it, Ed. I’ve had a long night.”

“So have I,” Ed shrugged. “Batman kicked my face in and I’m going back to prison. But your little story is much more interesting.”

5.

Transporting Poison Ivy gave Gordon the creeps. She was a literal walking biological weapon. The faster he could get her to Arkham, where they knew how to deal with her, the better. Gordon flipped the sirens on and stamped on the gas. They tore through Gotham, just Gordon and Ivy in the police cruiser.

“So,” Ivy purred from the back seat. “I hear there’s another ginger causing you trouble tonight, Jim.”

Gordon’s hands flexed on the steering wheel. “I’m not talking about it with you.”

“I would never let my daughter date someone I didn’t like.”

“You don’t have a daughter,” Gordon reminded her.

“But if I did-,”

“Heaven forbid it.”

“James, that’s unkind,” Ivy pouted. 

“Shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Gordon ground between his teeth. 

6.

    “Do you fear losing your daughter to another man?” The Scarecrow’s soft voice rose the hairs on the back of Gordon’s neck. Gordon gripped the steering wheel tighter. It was a long drive to Arkham. He’d rather nip this conversation in the bud.

    “No,” Gordon bit out.

    “Really?” Crane hummed. His handcuffs clinked together. “It would be normal for a man of your position and power to fear losing control of a loved one’s life. Especially one who has been dependent on you since her birth. You raised her. She’s your flesh. Yet she deigns to place her life in the hands of another man. Does that not scare you?”

    Gordon ground his teeth. He didn’t answer.

    “From what I hear,” Crane continued. “Your daughter’s new man has more money than you’d ever make. More prestige.” He paused. “And more trauma. Does it not scare you to think what kind of monster lies under his skin?”

    “He’s not a monster,” Gordon insisted. 

    Crane chuckled. “We’re all monsters, Commissioner.”

    Gordon swallowed hard.

    “I’m shocked you let her date him.”

Gordon slammed on the brakes. Traffic screeched around the police cruiser. Gordon spun in his seat. He stuck his finger in Crane’s face. “Listen up. I want you to deliver a message down your Arkham grapevine. Word for word, got it? My daughter is her own woman. She makes her own choices. I am not her keeper, her warden, or her owner. And if even one of you could get it through your fat skulls that people are not puppets to control, then I would weep for joy.”

+1

Gordon got the call just as he was leaving the office. Victor Zsasz was terrorising Nightwing and Batgirl downtown. Gordon grabbed his coat and raced for his car. 

He arrived just as the ambulance pulled up. Gordon’s stomach dropped. Zsasz had a terrifying body count under his belt. If anyone needed the ambulance… Gordon shuddered. He unclipped his gun, ready to storm the building. 

The door flung open. A hogtied Victor Zsasz tumbled down the stairs into the street. The other officers on the scene swarmed him, shouting and making the arrest. 

Gordon looked up. Batgirl stood proudly at the top of the steps, her hands on her hips and chest puffed out. She noticed Gordon standing there watching. She waved him over. 

Gordon trudged up the steps. A dark smear of blood stained Batgirl’s purple sleeve. 

“Commissioner,” Batgirl saluted Gordon. 

“Good work,” Gordon said.

Batgirl swallowed hard. “I need your help. Quietly.”

Gordon agreed without thinking. “What can I do?”

Batgirl grabbed his arm and pulled him with her back into the building. She led him through a series of business offices into a janitor’s closet. Even in the dark, Gordon noticed the drops of dark liquid on the floor. 

Batgirl pushed aside a rack of cleaning supplies. 

Nightwing slumped against the wall, his legs spread over the floor. He clutched a wound in his side bleeding all over his uniform. He didn’t look up when Batgirl knelt at his side. 

Gordon cursed. “Is he-?”

“He’ll be okay,” Batgirl promised.

Gordon wasn’t so sure. The blue bird emblem on Nightwing’s chest hardly rose at all with his breathing. An overwhelming amount of blood pooled underneath him across the linoleum floor.

Gordon reached for his radio to call the EMTs in. Batgirl snagged his wrist.

“He can’t go to a hospital,” she said. 

“But-,”

Batgirl interrupted. “If I can get him home, he’ll be fine. I need your help getting him to the Batmobile. Please.”

Gordon nodded. He passed a shaking hand over his brow. “Yeah, alright.”

Gordon crouched and lifted one of Nightwing’s arms over his shoulder. Batgirl kept her hands pressed against the bloody hole in his abdomen. Gordon couldn’t stop his mind from swapping the young man with Barbara. What if it was her bleeding out on the floor? Would he so callously help a vigilante sneak her out the back door to receive questionable medical assistance?

Together they half carried Nightwing out to the alley behind the building. The legendary Batmobile sat purring on the asphalt. The chrome gleamed under the streetlights. The canopy of the Batmobile slid open when Batgirl pressed her hand to it. 

Gordon grunted as he helped lift Nightwing into the passenger seat. The kid roused enough to meet Gordon’s eye through his mask. 

“Hey, Mister Gordon,” he said. 

“It’s Commissioner to you,” Gordon grouched good naturedly. 

Batgirl hopped into the driver's seat. 

Gordon reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” he said.

She quirked a smile. “Thanks Dad.”

He wished fervently he could hug her right now. But Gotham had eyes everywhere. He settled for another squeeze of her caped shoulder. “Just take care of your boy. Tell him this isn’t an excuse to miss Sunday dinner.”

Barbara’s laugh as she drove off was worth it.