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dangerousconnoisseurdonut · 3 years

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Omega Auction of the Century Preview

@jeromiah and @nostalgic90s proposed a most intriguing idea of Omegas being so rare, they are auctioned off, and Bruce would go for a frankly insane amount as he is the most eligible of Omegas around. This is just the start of an idea, but I have to get ready for work and want to know what people think of it so far!

Bruce couldn’t completely withhold his shudder of fear and revulsion as he heard the second Omega on the auction block went for a cool ten million, upped from the eight million the last one went for, simply because the first one had been a male and this one was a slightly pudgy (but not unattractive) female who came from a family of six, so she had a good chance for being a strong breeder. Oh, but how he and Brooke hated being referred to that way; as if they were cows or horses just waiting for a stud to come along. In school, they had both received a lot of flack from their peers, often being referred to as breeding stock or even whores once (Brooke had broken Grace Van Dhal’s nose when she said that). It was only their parents large donations to the school that they had taught them proper courses at all as many just enrolled Omega’s in more simple math courses, home economics, home estate management courses, and the like. When their parents had died, the school had tried to put them in those courses, thankfully their Uncles Lucius Fox and Ed Nygma, with their Alpha Dr. Leslie Thompkins, had simply pulled them from the school and taught them everything they needed to know.

Sadly, he thought as the third Omega was taken out for the block, it was probably all going to be for naught; rich Alphas and Betas didn’t really care how smart the Omega was so long as they were fertile and not an imbecile as they worried about the child inheriting such a thing (too bad you couldn’t keep stupid Alphas from mating). And, as Bruce was a rare intersex Omega, his fertility was somewhere around 89%, meaning he would probably get pregnant right away when they took him on his birthday and went into Heat. This was one of the reasons he was being saved for last; his high fertility rate combined with his company and his higher than average intelligence made him a very appealing Omega. Combined with the fact his twin sister was also an Omega, Bruce and Brooke could very well break the record for highest auctioned Omega in the United States, possibly all of North America, which was a steep forty million last year when Lex Luthor bought his Omega, a farm boy by the name of Clark Kent. Some people thought he overpaid, until the rumours started circulating that Lex had had a crush on the boy through their high school years, but the boy had largely appeared straight. At least, he thought as the third Omega, a boy that went for only seven million due to him having a scar on his abdomen from when he had needed to have his appendix taken out as well as his sister having had a miscarriage, Lee, Lucius, and Ed would get a large ‘dowry’ for them as the family of the Omega got around 40% of the bid.

As the fourth, and last Omega before them was hauled out, he bemoaned what they were making him and Brooke wear; all Omega’s had to wear very revealing clothes so as to entice the Alphas into spending big bucks on them. They had originally wanted Bruce and Brooke in something not even a prostitute would be caught dead in; some kind of lacy piece that frankly looked more like lingerie than any type of clothing. But, after a few well placed threats from Ed and Lee, what they was wearing was more fit for a rave or rock concert, but at least it wasn’t entirely see-through. They had put him in tight leather pants, a mesh t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and Lee had given him his favourite leather jacket to wear. Brooke was wearing some kind of leather halter top the covered her breasts and did nothing else, as well as a short skirt and fishnet stockings and her favourite knee high boots, all covered by her favourite leather duster. Soon though, he heard the last Omega, a beautiful young girl who came from a long line of strong Alphas and other beautiful Omegas, no Betas found in her family tree, even if her family wasn’t that well off, no doubt they would enjoy the 40% of the twenty million she was just sold for. They were soon being ushered onto the stage, and barely managed to hold in his whimpers as all the men and women in the room were looking at them like they were rib-eyes and they were all starving. Brooke had his hand clamped in a death grip as she looked out as well.

“And here we have, Ladies and Gentlemen, saved the best for last; twin Omegas, Bruce and Brooke Wayne! The last of the Wayne’s, they actually score high in mathematics and sciences, Bruce is intersex…” Bruce drowned out the announcer as his and Brooke’s ‘accomplishments’ were listed, and took stock of just who was there, and felt more than a little sick at who he saw; crime bosses like Thorn, Falcone, and Maroni were there (God, but he hoped Maroni didn’t win them as the man had four Omega’s already, and more than one of them had been accidentally photographed with shiners). There were creeps like Hugo Strange, who was rumoured to experiment on Betas, and Kathryn Monroe, who was rumoured to be something of a cult leader. Then, there were just straight up assholes like Roland Daggett, an unscrupulous CEO that was suspected of taking several shortcuts to get what he wanted, their old classmate Brant Jones, and the one who made him the sickest of all; Theo Galavan. Bruce prayed to whatever powers were listening that Galavan didn’t get them as he would no doubt dissolve Wayne Enterprises as he despised the Wayne’s, and it had been all Thomas, and later Lee, could do to keep Galavan away from Bruce and Brooke when they were younger.

“Shall we start the bidding at $500,000? Thank you, Mr. Daggett, that’s $500,000 to start us off.”

“$550,000!”

“You insult the pair, Salvatore! $750,000!” Bruce was pretty sure that was Carmine Falcone, and prayed that either they were going to be the old man’s, or his son Mario, who was said to actually be rather kind, as opposed to the daughter Sofia; word had it the woman was a straight up whack-job.

“You both insult such fine specimens; $1,000,000!” Hugo Strange bid, and Bruce quickly hoped someone outbid the man quickly as he was losing feeling in his hand due to Brooke’s squeezing.

“$1,500,000!” Bruce saw another acquaintance, Tommy Elliot enter the ring, and really hoped he had matured some since he punched his lights out.

“$5,000,000!” Please, God, no was all Bruce could think as Galavan threw his own hat into the ring.

“$6,000,000!” Bruce was both relieved someone outbid Galavan, but also a little disturbed as it was Kathryn Monroe who bid; he had nothing against older women taking younger lovers (he refused to call them cougars as he found it offensive), but it wasn’t really his thing and besides which, while he may be bisexual, he largely swung for his own team.

“$10,000,000!” Bruce looked up at the familiar voice and saw Barbara Kean and her partner Tabitha Galavan had just thrown down a substantial gauntlet, and he wondered why as not only were Barbara and Tabitha lesbians, they had two Omegas already, and one Beta; his friends Ivy Pepper, Bridgit Pike, and Selina Kyle. He figured this way, he would carry the pups and they wouldn’t have to worry about it. They were probably his and Brooke’s best hope as they would be with their friends and while Barbara could be a little intense (and Tabitha was well known for her whip), he didn’t think either woman would be abusive to their Omegas; Selina had certainly never complained about how Bridgit and Ivy were treated.

“$15,000,000!” Daggett came back into the ring with a strong bid, and Bruce was beginning to feel a little sick as he placed his other hand over Bryce, who whispered a sorry into his ear.

“$23,000,000!” Bruce was rather surprised when Fish Mooney threw a bid out as the woman was usually too busy to have much to do with Omegas, but among the crime bosses littering Gotham, she was one of the better ones to be owned by.

“$30,000,000!” Bruce gripped Brooke back as Galavan countered with a number not many would be willing to counter, even for twin Omegas.

“$40,000,000!” Barbara and Tabitha countered, and it seemed like they were in a vacuum as there didn’t seem to be any noise whatsoever. Bruce prayed that it was too much for Galavan to go above his sister as the announcer exclaimed,

“We have $40,000,000! Thank you Miss. Kean and Miss. Galavan! Do I have anymore bids? That’s $40,000,000 for the Wayne twins to Miss. Kean and Miss. Galavan going once! Going Twice! Going Three ti-!”

“$50,000,000!” Bruce was almost certain he or Brooke were going to pass out as they felt the air pressure drop at an unprecedented number, even for a pair of Omegas. He looked out into the audience and saw that many had mentally withdrawn from the battle, and felt his heart sink as he knew not even Barbara and Tabitha would go against such a bid.

“We now have $50,000,000 to Mr. Theo Galavan! That is a new record! Thank you, Mr. Galavan! Do I have anymore bids? Sirs? Ladies? Well, then that is $50,000,000 to Mr. Theo Galavan, going once!” Bruce prayed anyone would outbid Galavan; he would gladly cover the difference if at least his sister was safe, but none raised their hands.

“Going twice!” Bruce felt Brooke clutch his shoulder as her own shook with the realization that no one was going to outbid their worst nightmare.

“Going three times!” Bruce saw Galavan smirk as his dream of destroying the Wayne legacy was about to come to fruition.

“So-”

“$98,316,010.99!” Everyone was stunned and swirled their heads, trying to figure out who had placed such an outlandish (and rather peculiar) bid, only to see a man decked out in a tight leather outfit and completely bald; he didn’t even have eyebrows, but all knew who this man was. Victor Zsasz, one of, if not the most, Gotham’s most deadly assassins, the Penguin’s bodyguard and enforcer; a man not to be trifled with under any circumstances.

“S-sir?” The announcer, who before had been annoyingly enthusiastic about selling off young men and women, was now very scared as the assassin actually walked up on stage with two of his Zsaszette’s as others referred to them, both of whom smiled gently at the frightened Omegas.

“That, is a joint bid from my boss, Oswald Cobblepot, Jervis Tetch, Victor Fries, Jim Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth, and the Valeska twins, Jerome and Jeremiah. They couldn’t decide which one they wanted, so they pooled their resources for the pair of them.” Zsasz explained before he took a good look at the twins and asked,

“Do either of you feel comfortable wearing that?” Bruce shook his head as Brooke whispered,

“No, Mr. Zsasz.”

“OK, we got some clothes in the car you can change into before we leave, make you look less like a pair of hookers and more like a pair of wealthy brats. Unless, of course, someone wishes to bid against the seven most dangerous men in the city?” Zsasz looked out toward the crowd, making eye contact with Galavan in particular, who actually looked to be gearing up to try and outbid the psychopath, when the announcer said,

“Going once, going twice, going thrice, sold! Sold to -”

“Just call them the Legion of Horribles; it’s quite the mouthful otherwise.” Zsasz said as he and his girls checked the pair for any bruising or scars, and somewhat surprised to see a few here and there, but they weren’t abuse scars; these were battle scars.

“Sold to the Legion of Horribles! They just have to do one final check-up and then you can pick them up at the side entrance.”

“Most valuable darlings in the world, and you make them sound like a pair of cheap hookers, nice.” One of the Zsaszette’s complained before the pair were escorted off the stage.

Please tell me what you think of it so far, as there’s a lot more to come!

#Gotham #gotham au #bruce wayne #brooke wayne #abo #victor zsasz

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fantasyfandommaiden · 5 years

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ML Counsellor Au: Alya’s Session

“I honestly don’t remember much. I was just so angry and frustrated about the whole situation.” Alya said softly, holding a cup of warm tea between her hands.

The school Counselor, Mlle Carmine Regal, let out a soft hum in response, sipping her at her own mug of tea, todays blend was chai and cinnamon. “I heard about what happened from Mr. Damocles, it was blown far out of proportion, and as you know the suspension is no longer in place.”

“Yeah, that’s good, my parents would have freaked if that had actually happened, I mean, I hadn’t even done anything wrong.” Alya stated, to which Carmine raised an eyebrow, giving Alya the infamous ‘really?’ look.

“Alya, I will remind you that you attempted to break into another students locker to take pictures of its contents. That’s an invasion of privacy, as well as attempting to break and enter. The only people that are allowed to enter a locker without the students permission is the staff.”

“But I saw her with a Ladybug Yo-Yo. I’m the creator of the Ladyblog, it’s my duty to figure out Ladybug’s secret identity and follow any lead.” Alya stages defiantly “It just turned out this lead was wrong, thank god. Could you picture Chloe as Ladybug?”

“Alya, I could have told you there was no way Chloe could have been Ladybug. Besides for the fact that Chloe and Ladybug look nothing alike, even if some sort of glamour is involved ton keep Ladybug’s identity a secret, the simple fact that during the Stoneheart incident it was Ladybug who saved Chloe from becoming a smear of blood and gore across the pavement proves that Chloe can’t be Ladybug.” Carmine stated Ina matter of fact tone, the girl before her grimacing from the mental imagery before realizing what the Counselor has said.

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that...” Alya said softly, blushing slightly. It was a rookie mistake, as well as a lapse in logic.

“Alya, why are you so obsessed with finding out Ladybug’s identity? You have to know that it’s not safe for you or Ladybug if you reveal it.”

“Because it’s what the world wants to know! And as a journalist it is my duty to reveal the truth. Besides, it almost always works out in the comic books.”

Carmine had to stop herself from face palming and constantly reminded herself that Alya was still only 14 years old.

“Alya, I will remind you that in the comic books, it is the hero’s with nothing to loose who reveal their identity to the world and the smart hero’s who only reveal it to the most trusted friends and family.” Carmine told her in a blunt tone “If Ladybug doesn’t want to reveal her identity, than we as the people should be respecting that” Carmine stated “I understand what it is like the be curious, but if you like Ladybug as much as you claim to, you should respect her wishes.”

Alya remained quiet for several moments, thinking it over, however her expression remained stubborned, clearly not liking the idea of abandoning the very foundation that her blog was founded on.

“I’m more upset that I let the bad guy get under my skin.” Alya muttered darkly, Changing the subject rather quickly causing Carmine to raise a brow slightly.

“Unfortunately, with a terrorist on the loose who preys on negative emotions, it’s hard to not let him get under your skin.” She stated simply but Alya shook her head.

“No, well I mean, yeah that was awful, but I meant Chloe. She’s the real bad guy in this situation.” Alya stated looking at Carmine “She’s a bully, and the absolute worst. She causes so many Akuma’s to happen, and acts like she’s all that but she’s not.”

Carmine blinked slowly, staring straight at Alya, a sinking feeling beginning to forum in her gut.

“So, correct me if I am wrong Alya, but are you saying that Chloe, who I have yet to meet and have only heard second hands account of, is as bad as an active terrorist?”

“Well not to the same degree but she is the worst.” Alya stated off handedly, sipping her tea.

“Could you name some virtues that Chloe has?” Carmine asked, leaning forward.

“She has none.” Alya stated as if it was fact “She’s a spoiled brat who abused her power just because she’s the mayors daughter.”

Carmine looked at Alya, letting out a soft hum in acknowledgement “I see... this could be troubling.” She murmured more to herself than anyone else. She brought out her pen and orange piece of paper, beginning to write out the usual ‘approval’ note she wrote for the akuma victims, than began to write a new note on a plain white piece of paper.

“Well Alya, from our session I can see that you do regret being akumatized at the very least. However, please bare in mind that some secrets and truths are meant to remain hidden.” Carmine said, and she saw as Alya stopped herself from rolling her eyes at the thought.

“All truths should be revealed.”

“I’m sure the people in witness protection wouldn’t agree with you. Or police officers who are under cover, or doctors with doctor patient confidentiality. Or grandmothers who work tirelessly to knit their grandchildren sweaters only for said grandchild to say they hate it.” Carmine stated bluntly, finishing the second note and handing both to Alya.

“Hand those both to Mlle Bustier, the orange one is your approval to return to class, the white one is for her personally, kindly don’t read it.” She said, seeing how the girl was about to open it but quickly stopped “All it says is that I need to speak with her when she is available.”

“... okay Mlle Regal.” Alya said as she stood up “See you around.”

As Alya closed the door, Carmine wrote some notes in Alya’s file in her neat cursive writing.

- justice seeking

- Loves the chase

- Adrenaline junkie????

- Very strong morals

- Shows signs of black and white thinking (splitting) discuss with Bustier, could just be due to immaturity

She stopped writing and closed the file, letting out a soft sigh as she rubbed her temples.

Black and white thinking, or splitting as it was more commonly referred to, was when someone could not bring themselves to think of the positive and negative qualities of a person or themselves, it was a common defence mechanism.

If Alya did have a minor version of splitting, which she was beginning to suspect, that could be dangerous for her in the long run, in both personal relations as well as professional. Those with splitting often had difficulty with getting along with those who didn’t follow their values to a tee and would denounce anyone who disagreed or showed a vice that disagreed with them. They were also known to make exceptions for themselves to make them feel like the better person.

Than again, Alya could just be a lawful good type of person, with a set of values that relied heavily on the truth and exposing it, and would get tunnel vision with getting her goal. which was also likely, Carmine wouldn’t know for sure until she spoke with she spoke with Caline Bustier, but after thinking it over, it was seeming more likely that Alya would be a lawful good person who just saw the world on black and white, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

All She hoped for was that Alya would take what she said to heart, but she had a feeling it would take a hard blow of a lesson for the girl to truly learn that some secrets aren’t meant to be shared.

#ladybug #ladybug au #ml au #counselor au #miraculous ladybug #counsellor au

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fire-the-headcanons · 5 years

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In the corner of her eye, the boy leaned toward the girl and whispered something. The Grimm girl replied at full volume, “She’s staring at you because you’re wearing a gods-damned cape, crow.”

Well, there’s no need to call anyone names. Summer scowled at the girl before returning to her magazines.

Follow the Beacon Summer—First Impressions

[a.k.a. The Disasters finally meet each other and it obviously doesn’t go that well]

[Link to Masterpost]

“Promise you’ll call every weekend,” her mom demanded, holding her tighter. “You’ve got an entire CCT tower in the middle of campus. No excuses.”

“I promise!” Summer said returning the gesture. “And I promise to keep my room clean, and get along with my teammates, and not harass the headmaster, and every other thing you’ve said this week. Mom, we’re only like an hour away. Less if Balt can take you the whole way.”

“Geez, can you imagine if we’d actually gone to Shade?” Tai complained with a good-natured smile as his dad finally let him go. “Fly safe.”

“I am a professional.” Balt straightened his tie. “And you too.”

“Do you think Azraq will be able to talk Saturday?”

“Without you pranksters around I’m sure his workload will get a lot lighter,” he said. “But we need to head out now. Unless you two want to take the ferry back to the island.”

“All right, all right.” Her mom handed over her other suitcase. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Hands full, Summer headbutted her mom’s shoulder before following Dan and Tai toward the shuttle that would head to the Academy. Students were already lining up to stow luggage in the hold, or to board on the top deck. Their parents and Balt headed for a slightly smaller ship swarmed by younger students, headed to Patch and Signal.

“I wish Zaff were here,” Tai muttered, yanking one of his suitcases over a crack in the concrete.

“Me too.” Summer pressed her tongue between her teeth. Leaving home didn’t scare her one bit. Getting partnered with complete strangers? Terrifying.

Dan elbowed her. “The three of us just need to stick together.” She glanced at Tai behind his back, sharing a brief look of concern. He’d almost been taking their breakup too well.

It didn’t take long to get everything stowed, and then they were some of the last ones on the ship. Students of every year packed into every corner of the vessel, most of them wearing or carrying their weapons. Summer was glad she’d left Gungnir hanging from her belt.

“It’s so crowded,” Dan complained, ducking under the lance of another first year.

“There’s room back here,” Tai said, squeezing past some older students and heading toward the back of the ship. There was a lot more space away from the windows… or maybe people were trying to avoid the girl wedged in the back corner of the ship. She sat on her weapon—a massive black tube with a handle at one end that seemed far too small for the rest of it—and scowled at the floor like she wanted to set it on fire.

“So what is your plan for dealing with Ozpin?” Dan asked, leaning against a decorative strut. “Since you promised not to break into his office.”

“Well, he’s a government official, it doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Summer said, dropping onto a bench and setting Gungnir in her lap. “We barely got away with it at Signal and an Academy will have better security.”

Tai nodded. “We’re hoping if we can see who he’s meeting with, it might help us figure out what he’s doing.”

“ ‘Long as you don’t miss classes and bring the team down.”

“Shut up!”

The ground hummed as the ship rose smoothly into the air, and over near the windows some of the other first years oohed and ahhed. Summer had seen it all before, plenty of times—the four of them had gone to a few summer camps at the Academy.

The girl in the corner grunted, swearing viciously under her breath as the ship banked.

“You okay?” The boy sitting next to her asked, looking up from his book.

“Shut up.”

Summer realized what was so off-putting about the pair—their battle gear was all black, red, and white. Grimm colors. Though, it matched their red eyes and black hair.

The boy shrugged and slouched over his book again, part of his costume falling over his shoulder as he did. It took Summer a second to realize, but he was wearing a cape.

She was instantly jealous. Growing up—dreaming of what her Huntress battle gear would be like one day—she’d always wanted a long flowing cloak like Lady Pimpernel, or the Grimm Reaper… But she’d never had the confidence to actually do it, sticking to her signature white hoodies instead.

The boy looked up—maybe he’d sensed her staring at him, but their eyes met and Summer felt her face grow warm with embarrassment as she gave a small, awkward wave. He gave a tentative half-wave back, and Summer busied herself checking over Gungnir’s ammunition.

Well, there’s no need to call anyone names. Summer scowled at the girl before returning to her magazines.

“Making friends?” Dan muttered under his breath.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Is that a SDC Guillotine?” Tai asked suddenly.

The girl stared at him, one hand moving to rest on her seat. “Why.” It wasn’t a question, more of a demand for information.

“Uh… ‘cause they’re cool, and not available to the public for another three months?” Tai said. “Are you two from Atlas?”

“No.”

Tai blinked, apparently weighing whether it was worth the effort—or risk—to continue the conversation. For reasons unknown, he decided it was. “...Mantle?”

“No.”

Summer decided she did not like this girl.

“Professor Carmine gave us our weapons,” her brother—he had to be related to her somehow, right? They were practically identical—took his turn to scowl at her. She wilted, even more shocked by him taking their side than they were by her rudeness. “We’re farmhands from Anima, we tested in to the school.”

“Where did a couple of farmhands learn to fight?” Dan asked, a sour note in his voice, and Summer turned to stare. What on Remnant was that for?

“The...village huntsman…” Crow stammered, shrinking. “Uh, he… taught a lot of the kids, in town—”

She jumped in before Dan could jam his foot any further in his mouth, hoping to smooth things over. “He must be glad you got into a Huntsman Academy.”

“He’s dead,” the girl snapped.

The rest of the ride passed in awkward silence. Crow returned to his book—when he shifted, Summer caught a glance at the cover. They’d used that history textbook two years ago at Signal...hopefully Dan hadn’t noticed.

As soon as the ship landed, Dan made a beeline for the exit. “Can you believe that?” he demanded, glancing back to make sure the pair were out of earshot.

Tai blinked, one hand on the rail of the stairs leading down toward the hold. “Believe what?”

“Zaff’s stuck in Atlas so two rubes from Mistral can play dress-up?” Dan snarled under his breath, boots clanging on the metal steps. “What’s the admissions board doing?”

“...Oh.” She hadn’t thought about it that way. “You didn’t have to snap at them like that…”

“Whatever.” He yanked his luggage off the pile. “They’ll probably drop out before second semester.”

“First years, please leave your things in the ballroom and make your way to the auditorium!” A short man with a large blond moustache directed traffic on the main path. Older students flowed around him, away from the landing stage and toward the dorms.

Dan continued as the crowd thinned. “They should give priority to people that want to go to their own kingdom’s school.”Summer scowled, but it wasn’t worth it to push the issue. Dan wasn’t very easy to talk to when he got in a mood.

It’s like he’s more upset than Zaff was.

The three of them stacked their belongings together, and followed the other students toward the giant circular building. Upperclassmen flooded up the stairs, but Professor Mesánychta and a faunus that Summer didn’t recognize directed the first years out onto the floor.

“Hi, Professor,” Tai called out, and Summer waved from around his shoulder.

“Mr. Xiao Long, your father warned me you three were coming,” she waved them past with a smile.

The interior of the auditorium was even larger than the other hall had been, though the floor was smaller. Seats ringed the walls, completely full of the older students. A stage had been wheeled out, giving the first-years a decent view of the teachers standing on it.

The babble of voices died down as Professor Ozpin stepped forward and cleared his throat. “To our returning students, welcome back. Remnant thanks you for your continuing commitment to protect the people. To our new students, welcome. You have walked a long road to reach these halls, and it will be a long road that takes you through them. Though you all have many different origins, you now share one destination—but remember, the road does not end on graduation day. You must always keep moving forward.

“Tonight you will all stay in the ballroom. Tomorrow, you will complete your initiation. I suggest you all get some rest. Welcome to Beacon.”

Summer clapped along with the other students, glancing at her friends. Tai was grinning up at the stage like he was ready to take on the entire wilds by himself, but next to him Dan was still glaring into the crowd. A heavy feeling of dread settled in her stomach. I wish Ozpin had said something about our teams…

Next Chapter: Raven—Rock and a Hard Place

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #strq #team strq #summer rose #qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #raven branwen #follow the beacon dan #follow the beacon zaff #huang xiao long #claret rose #follow the beacon balt #follow the beacon azraq #follow the beacon #mine

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lizartgurl · 5 years

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Suited Up (Young Justice Outsiders, OCs)

Willow Lance returns to high society, now with her girlfriend, and tries to get her parents to talk to each other. Bruce Wayne, however, may throw a huge damper on her night.

Word Count: 3132

“Diggle,”

“Miss Lance. Welcome back,” The ex-navy seal-turned-bodyguard for Queen Industries smiled warmly as he opened the door, holding it wide open as I stepped out of the backseat, and then as I helped Serene out of the car.

For a moment, the cameras stopped flashing as the paparazzi scrambled to recognize either of us. They returned in full force, screaming my way. With Serene’s arm in mine, I ignored them, making my stride quick and purposeful as I led her into the venue.

The glass geometric dome was bordered with gardens, plants cleverly hiding the speakers for music and raffle announcements. On the far side of the room were tables, piled high with every rich delicacy you could think of, next to the bar, which led to the kitchen (and bathrooms).

The entrance, where we stood, was a grand staircase, which led down to the dance floor that made up the majority of the venue.

Much like the paparazzi outside, many people stopped what they were doing, eyes on us in silent wonder.

I could feel Serene’s grip on my arm tightening.

“You ready?” I asked her.

“So long as you are,” She laughed lightly.

By the time we’d reached the floor, the live orchestra had started back up again, and all the donors had gone back to their own business, except for the two middle-aged blondes who hurried to greet us.

“Willow,” Dinah gasped, hugging me tightly.

“You look stunning,” I told her. Dinah’s hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her slim, midnight-blue dress sparkled with a thousand glittery stars.

She smiled, wiping something from the corner of her eye with care not to smudge her eyeliner. “You too.”

“Hey chickadee,” Oliver hugged me too, “Glad you could make it.”

He glanced at Serene, “That you both could.”

I smiled at my girlfriend, sliding my arm around her. “Mom, Dad, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Serene. Serene, my parents, Dinah and Oliver.”

Dinah grasped Serene’s hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Serene.”

“You as well, Mrs. Lance.”

“Call me Dinah,” She insisted.

“How’s Olivia?” I asked.

“With Will and Lian for the evening,” Oliver grinned, “Why? Were you hoping to get away with babysitting duties? After that entrance?”

“Maybe,” I teased right back.

I could see it in their blue eyes, in their aching smiles. They had millions of questions pressing at their polite appearance, but I couldn’t get away with explaining everything now. It would have to wait for a quieter time, where we weren’t surrounded by the well-to-do of society.

“If you’ll excuse us for a moment,” I led Serene over to Emma, watching me with a huge smile to go with her brother’s trollish grin.

“Wow,” Emma couldn’t stop smiling, looking me up and down, “Just...Wow!”

“You like it?” Serene lifted my arm to give me a spin.

“I think you rock a suit better than any guy,” Emma shook her head.

“Even me?” Rick begged.

“Especially you, Mister Fashion Disaster,” Emma hummed in satisfaction.

“Why, if it isn’t Little Miss Willow!”

I winced, vaguely recognizing the creaky voices of Gretchen “Granny” Goode, of Goode World Studios, the same studios that produced the Logan twins’ show, and once upon a time, M’gann’s ancient favorite: “Hello Megan!”

“Good to see you, Mrs. Goode.”

She gave a hoot of laughter, “As if I haven’t heard that one before. And call me Granny, Willow. And that goes for all of you as well,” She pointedly eyed Richard, Emma, and Serene. Funny, I don’t recall giving her permission to call me by my first name.

“How’s the fundraising going, Granny?” Emma asked, handing Granny a glass from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Oh just wonderful! I only wish Bruce could be here, he always brings in such a haul,” Granny sighed melodramatically.

“He’ll be here. You know Bruce, fashionably late as always,” Rick promised her.

“As if any entrance he made could top Willow’s!” Granny held out her arms, as if she expected a hug from me.

“Thank you,” I nodded awkwardly, holding out my hand to Serene instead.

“Would you care to dance, my love?”

She smiled softly, eyes glittering and reflecting the lights, the bubbles from the champagne, everything in the room all at once. It felt like the whole world was contained in her eyes.

“I would love to.”

I swept her up with the swell of the music, both of us floating across the floor, lost in each other’s arms. And that’s how most of the evening was spent, dancing with my girlfriend to avoid awkward rich people who tried to claim some sort of connection with me in an effort to rebound off the attention I received from entering with Serene. We finally managed to catch Emma and Rick by the appetizer buffet after they’d successfully ditched Miss Goode, loudly laughing at inside jokes to drive away any intruders.

“Bruce is gonna kill me for being so rude,” Emma snorted into her small plate of shrimp.

“Nah, he’ll think it’s hilarious,” Rick said, now on the lookout for anyone making a beeline for our table.

“Dinah’ll be mad, but she won’t go as far as grounding.”

Serene shrugged, “My dad would be the one hiding from everybody.”

We all fell into laughter again, and I waved over the waiter for another flute of champagne.

“This is definitely the most fun I’ve ever had at a gala,” Emma sighed happily.

“Even more than when Mara, Livvy, and Stephanie stole all the cream puffs?”

“I was panicking for half the evening wondering where they were before we found them. Under the bar of all things.”

Richard shrugged. “Miss Serene, would you mind to terribly if I asked you to dance?”

“Oo, watch out, Will, Rick’s gonna steal your girl.”

“As long as you understand that I am taken,” Mister Richard,” Serene giggled, taking his offered hand.

Emma shrugged, the two of us alone at the table with four empty plates, and Carmine Falcone heading straight for us.

“Wanna dance?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” We ducked into the crowd, leaving Falcone scratching his head in our wake so that we were almost laughing too hard to joined in the foxtrot they were playing.

“You look so much happier nowadays,” Emma observed.

I nodded, “Serene says I’m even better now that I’ve started talking to you guys again.”

Emma tilted her head back and forth, “Well that, and you look so much better in a suit than you ever did in a dress.”

I snorted softly, “You sure?”

“Well, it could be a combination of that and you don’t look nearly half as awkward dancing with Serene as you did with Kaldur.

“That was seven years ago! And he was your boyfriend!” Emma giggled as I spun her.

“Are you happy with him?” My tone serious as Emma came back to land in my arms again.

Her face serious, but with a smile slowly etching into the corners of her mouth, Emma nodded. “I love him, Willow. And he loves me too. I see it every day.

“We’re thinking of getting married.”

“Married?” My voice squeaked, too late to stop us from running into six-foot-four Bruce Wayne, immovable and unfazed.

“Bruce,” Emma gave him a quick hug, “How is everything?”

“It’s all well, Emma, Barbara has things well in hand.”

His gaze looked up from his adopted daughter, focusing in on me now. “Miss Lance.”

“Mr. Wayne,” I folded my arms across my chest, as if he were Superman with the x-ray vision and could see right through me.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your dance, Emma, but I need to speak to Willow.”

“Alright,” I shrugged, and leaned back on my right leg.

“Alone, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I do,” I growled, following him back by the bar. I glanced back over my shoulder, seeing Richard and Serene stopped by Emma, watching me retreat after Bruce.

“Two bourbons, please,” Bruce asked the bartender, taking a seat at the end of the bar, away from the gossiping drunks. A Batman-esque glare was enough to drive anyone else away.

My drink came, but I refused to drink it, watching Bruce drink his first.

“What do you want, Wayne?” I asked.

Bruce downed the last of his glass, but when he went to put it down, he winced and nursed an area by his ribs momentarily.

“Where have you been, Willow?” He asked with a grunt, struggling to breathe evenly.

“STAR Detroit. I’m surprised you don’t know that.” I huffed.

“When you left, you said you needed space. I decided to give you that, so long as you didn’t go crazy and burn down Lexcorp headquarters in Metropolis.”

I was surprised that he’d actually managed to stay in his own business for two years, but annoyed that he thought so little of me. Then again, my tantrums over the teams first few years didn’t give him much reason to.

“So, still in STAR Detroit. I assume with Doctor Silas Stone?”

I glared at him.

“He is the leading expert on alien technology, two fields you are uniquely familiar with. And after all, you are here with his daughter.”

“I thought you said you stayed out of my business.”

“I did, but I make it a point to background check anyone who the league trusts with alien technology such as a Father Box.”

I froze, hand around my glass.

“It was only decided last night. When Jeff returned from deep space after what happened on Rann over the summer, he brought with him a Box Diana and her team had captured from a fleet of parademons they’d fought.”

He held up his phone, showing me security footage one of the Leaguer’s off in space had recorded of a dark Father Box healing a parademon’s half-missing limb and repair the staff he was holding. I felt a surge of pride in my chest noting Doctor Adam Strange in the background, having master his jetpack and his laser gun as he fought alongside Alanna, daughter of his scientist friend.

Bruce only played the clip once, on silent, before hiding it back in his pocket. “When Steel and the Lanterns couldn’t figure out how to make it work, Kaldur decreed that it would go to STAR to be studied. Of course, with Strange in space and Dorado now managing the metahuman youth center, that leaves Doctor Stone. And you, as his brilliant underpaid internist.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Bruce?” I emphasized again. “How do you even know all this? Emma says you quit the League, and so did Ollie.”

“I had a hand in creating every piece of technology that the League uses. I modified everything on the Watchtower myself.

“But this isn’t just for me, Willow, it’s for the League, for Richard and Emma’s team, for all of us still trying to make the world a better place. We don’t know Stone like we know Strange, and we know he’s a little...irrational at times. Rationalizes too much, loses himself in his work. We need you to keep him on track, to keep him from using the Father Box in the wrong way, or at all.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do since I became his intern?” I snapped suddenly.

“Excuse me-” I spun about to tell whoever was interrupting us to buzz off, when I saw Ollie smiling at me.

“I’m sure you won’t begrudge me the opportunity to dance with my own daughter, Bruce. Would you?”

Bruce sighed heavily. “Think about it, Willow.” Without gracing Ollie with an answer, he left a sizable tip for the barkeep and disappeared into the crowd.

“What was that all about?” Oliver asked, offering his arm.

“Just Bruce being Bruce,” I sighed.

Oliver chuckled, bringing us into dance position for a waltz, “Figures.”

“Anyone else I should be worried about running into?” I asked, trying to remember the lady’s steps instead of the gentleman’s this time around.

“Well, Granny insisted on inviting Luthor, but he declined, insisting that his focus was needed on the UN’s efforts to eradicate meta-human trafficking.”

The short bark of laughter that painfully tore itself from my chest drew the attention of several other dancing couples for a second.

“You look happy, Willow.”

“I am happy.” I told him.

“I’m glad,” He smiled beneath his dopey goatee, eyes crinkled sadly.

“What about you? Are you and Dinah happy?” I asked.

“That...” He sighed, spinning me around. “That’s a tough question to answer, Willow.”

“Why’d you leave?” I asked, a sudden edge to my voice, “I could’ve told you and Bruce years ago that Luthor was going to make things harder for the League. The people love him too much, you’ve seen it.”

He nodded stoically. “But that doesn’t mean we stop trying, chickadee. When we told you and the team to stay behind in the cave, did you guys listen?”

“No,” I said. I stared down at my feet to make sure I was putting them in the right spots.

He smiled again. “You have a heart for good, and a smart head on your shoulders. You’re going to do whatever you need to make sure that people get the help that they need, in whatever way that may be.

“With the League, we were able to keep reaching people on a wider range, at least for a while. That tsunami in Rhelasia was the last straw for me, personally, and when Bruce offered a way to keep reaching those people, I had to take it.”

“So why didn’t you tell Mom?” I begged, “Olivia called me the night you left the League. She saw Dinah drinking, and she’s terrified that you two are going to get a divorce.”

Oliver’s face was slightly pale in the already white lightning of the dome.

“I’m not sure, chickadee,” Ollie sighed. “I love your mother, I always have. I don’t want to leave her, but she cares about you guys so much, I couldn’t ask her to betray Kaldur. At least until it was too late.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Bruce seems to think you’re still working with the League,” I glared over at the bar, my face hot.

Oliver chuckled, “Bruce thinks a lot of things, not all of them true.”

I sighed, resting my head on his chest.

“What are you thinking now, chickadee?”

I pressed my lips together. “I’m just glad to have a dad again.”

The dance ended, and Oliver kissed my forehead. “I’d love another dance with you, but I think your gal pal is a little anxious to talk to you.” He attempted to grin, and gave me a little push toward Serene, who waited at a table with a glass of champagne and one solitary cream puff.

“May I?” I asked.

She slid the plate towards me with a giggle.

“I spoke with your mom, you know,” She nodded over my shoulder, and saw that Ollie had headed in Dinah’s direction. She stood on the edge of the dance floor, surveying everything while swirling her glass, which had a potent lipstick stain on the rim.

“Did she interrogate you or anything?” I asked.

Serene chuckled, “No, no, she was very nice. In fact, she told me a very fun story?”

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrow at her.

She nodded, smiling slyly. “It had Emma in it too, I think, about the time that she got sick and you tried to make her a pot of soup to make her feel better?”

I shoved the cream puff back her way, hungry no longer. “She swore she would never tell that story.”

Emma and Richard, having a drop too much to drink, danced past us, twirling elegantly. “She comes bearing soup!” Emma laughed.

“You’re all awful and you know I can cook much better now.”

“Yes, but can you make soup?” Richard wiggled his eyebrows before dancing off with his sister again.

Serene giggled, “Is that why you never make soup?”

“Come on,” I took her hand, “Let’s dance over there, there’s more room.” Serene laughed as I led her across the dance floor, and sure enough Emma and Richard followed us, but fortunately for me, not another word was spoken of soup for the rest of the evening.

-------

“She’s very happy,” Oliver said as he approached Dinah.

“I can tell,” Dinah said stiffly.

Oliver gently lifted the glass from her hand, letting a waiter take it away, before bringing his wife onto the dance floor. Though she didn’t resist, she seemed determined to stare at the floor, at the ceiling, at the bar, anywhere but at his face.

“I spoke to Serene. She’s a brilliant woman, and she loves Willow very much.”

“Dinah, we’ve been married for almost ten years now. When are we going to talk to each other?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dinah quipped.

“Dinah,” his hand left her back, coming up to hold her cheek, “I couldn’t ask you to leave the kids.”

“You could have told me what you were planning.”

“I could have, and I should have.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

It was Ollie’s turn to look away. Across the room, Willow and Serene were spinning around, and emma was probably recording it on her phone.

“It was Bruce’s idea, of course.”

“Since when do you listen to Bruce?” Dinah huffed.

“He had some pretty good reasons. He was asking each of his potential recruits one on one, and he didn’t want them to join just because of peer pressure. And he never said it outright, but I don’t think he wanted Kaldur to get wind of it either.”

“Why not? We don’t have the power to keep people from leaving the League.”

Oliver shrugged. “And this one’s more personal, but I didn’t want you knowing that I was leaving to drive us apart so soon.”

“Some good that did,” Oliver spun Dinah around, bringing her back around to land in his arms.

They stopped dancing.

Dinah gripped his lapels. “I...I know that you look out for the little guy. You always have. That’s why I fell for you in the first place.”

She held up one finger to keep him from interrupting, “I can’t leave the League. You’re right. I won’t abandon Kaldur when so much has already gone south for us.”

She glanced over at Willow and the others, “And second, you need to talk to me. No matter what, if we really love each other, we can’t be keeping things like this from each other.”

“Deal. Anything else you’d like to get off your chest, Pretty Bird?”

A wicked grin etched itself into Dinah’s mouth. “Oh, I can think of a few things, Mr. Green.”

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thehuggamugcafe · 6 years

Text

Parental Instincts III

“(Y/n), look.”

“Look at what, Akira?” you asked, blinking as you glanced up from the sink you stood in front of.

Your hands were dunked beneath the water, soap suds floated on the warm surface. You gripped a moist sponge in one hand, and a dinner plate in the other, pausing in the midst of scrubbing off what remained of the curry sauce that caked to the plate.

Akira stood directly behind you. The only warning you received was the clatter of dinner plates being put in the cupboard behind you before you paused, setting the plate in the dish tray, and flicking your hands. Droplets of warm water were cast from your fingers, drying your hands on the apron tied around your waist.

You turned on your heels, blinking as you felt a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. For a moment, and only a moment, you caught your husband raising a hand, cupping your cheek as he raised his free hand.

“Smile, love,” Akira murmured, his lips moving against yours as he talked.

“Wh—?”

You were cut off by two things. The first was Akira pressing his lips to yours.

Flash.

The second was your husband taking a picture of you and him, your lips gently meshed together.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked, a hint of rose pink colouring your cheeks.

“Cheering up my beautiful wife,” he murmured into your mouth, his lips moving against yours as he talked.

“W-Why?” you asked, mentally wincing at the noticeable stutter that laced your voice.

Flash.

“Because...”

Flash.

“I noticed the way you acted...”

Flash.

“When Natalie was picked up.”

Flash.

“You looked like someone took your first-born child.”

“I... I don’t have a first-born child. You told me you couldn’t give me one,” you whispered, hitching in a breath as Akira kissed you especially hard after you said that.

After you spoke that one horrible and painful truth, Akira rested his forehead on yours. For a moment, and only a moment, his warm onyx gaze flashed with a hue of carmine that you recognized all too well. You couldn’t help but swallow a gulp upon seeing the ruby red that swallowed up his obsidian irises; you knew what it meant when that hue shone in his gaze.

That beautiful shade of crimson that you enjoyed seeing...

It meant that he was serious.

“I know, my Treasure. I know,” he murmured, lowering the hand that held the camera.

However, his other hand remained where it was; still cupping your cheek in a gentle, loving manner.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

You said nothing as you were led over to the dining table. A chair creaked softly as Akira settled into it, wasting little time in setting the camera on the table. The hand that cupped your cheek lowered to your waist, looping an arm around it as his free hand took one of yours, interlocking your fingers together as you were gently guided into sitting on his lap.

“Akira, what are you doing—mph.”

Once again, you were cut off by Akira’s lips pressing to yours, swallowing the gasp you voiced as he kept you close, so close that your breasts pressed against his torso. So close that you swore you felt his heart beating as he raised a hand, looping an arm around your shoulders, bringing you even closer, if such a thing was possible.

“As I said,” Akira paused, pressing his lips against yours. “I’m cheering you up, my love.”

You didn’t say anything. You could only voice an appreciative “hm” as Akira held you, kissed you, and ran his hand up and down your clothed back. For a few minutes, that was where you remained: on Akira’s lap. You allowed yourself to be showered in the affection Akira gave you so willingly, reciprocating as much as you could.

You practically clung to him as your slightly plump lips meshed with his, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to bring him closer to you. You were sure you couldn’t get any more closer to him than you already were, though it didn’t deter you from trying.

Finally, Akira leaned back, disconnecting from your lips with a moist pop. Small strings of spit linked your mouth to his, glistening underneath the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting. Short, ragged pants left you as Akira’s carmine gaze remained on you.

“T-Thank you, Akira,” you spoke at last, your voice no higher than the octave of a whisper.

“No, thank you, dear.”

“What?”

“As I said,” Akira paused, a hand still cupping your cheek. He quietly rejoiced in how warm it felt in the palm of his hand, the cherry red tint gracing his fingers. “I’m cheering you up.”

“...”

Once again, you couldn’t say anything. You settled for staring into Akira’s face, his eyes more specifically. The crimson hue was still there, still glinting as he eyed you in what you could only describe as quiet contemplation.

“Do you want a child?”

“Y-Yes,” you replied, blinking as you ignored the light, noticeable waver that was in your voice as you talked.

“How badly do you want a baby?”

For a few moments, you were silent as your teeth nibbled into the lightly plump flesh of of your lower lip. Several thoughts ran through your head, each more befuddling than the previous one.

What an odd question for him to ask, and so suddenly.

Why is he asking me this so... out of the blue?

What’s he planning?

Wait, could he be...?

You had your suspicions, of course. Akira wasn’t stupid; he could read you better than anyone else could. Whether they were family members, friends, or acquaintances, the frizzy-haired demon picked up on the silent cues that hinted at your feelings. It didn’t matter if you were nervous, confused, agitated, or sad, it didn’t matter if you wore a poker face, or feigned content behind a smile and a laugh...

Akira picked up on everything, everything, that bothered you or lifted your spirits.

“...Akira,” you began, slowly and carefully uttering his name. “Are you...?”

“Answer me, love. Please.”

You swallowed a gulp that you swore was the size of a tennis ball, feeling it run down your esophagus as it settled into your gut, where it squirmed in a quiet ball of anxiety, of doubt. Your teeth bit into the flesh of your lower lip, slightly harder.

You wanted to look away from Akira’s ruby red gaze, but the hand cupping your cheek prevented you from doing so, whereas his free hand slowly, soothingly rubbed circles into your lower back through the shirt you wore.

“I... I...”

You did want a baby. You wanted a child so, so badly. You would do anything to hear the words that your friends had heard from a doctor, congratulating you and Akira for expecting a baby.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kurusu. You’re expecting.”

You wanted to hear those words, more than anything.

Or rather...

You thought you did, anyway.

Were you really so selfish, so desperate as to ask Akira to do such a thing...?

Were you really that despicable as to expect him to secure a “donation” and impregnate you...?

Were you honestly, truly going to ask Akira to do this, to do it for you...?

A part of you, deep down inside your subconscious, rejoiced in Akira’s offer, but the large part of you chastised that other, smaller part of you that wanted to say “yes” to what Akira was proposing.

Your mouth felt dry, but your heart raced within the bony confines of your rib cage, beating like the wings of a hummingbird, flapping frantically. You swallowed what felt like a mouthful of saliva, breathing in slowly, hitching slightly as you forced a smile to curl your lips.

“Can I... Can I think about this, please?”

If Akira was surprised at what you said, he certainly didn’t show it. The rose red colour still remained, his irises still glinted with that shade that was reminiscent of hellfire itself, piercing, demanding your attention. The noiret’s visage was expressionless; no emotions could be read on his face, in his eyes.

Finally, Akira smiled softly as he nodded, leaning forward to gently peck your lips.

“Take as long as you need to, my Treasure.”

“Thank you, Akira.”

You meant it. You honestly, truly meant it, and he no doubt saw it.

Akira doubtlessly saw your gratitude in your eyes, the edges pricking with tears as the hand that was cupping your cheek raised to your eyes, wiping away the tears that tried to trickle down your cheeks.

You had no doubt he saw it in the way your smile curled your lips, pulling to show a teasing hint of pearly whites.

He no doubt felt your thanks as your arms curled around him, hugging him with a bit more force.

“Excuse me, darling,” you murmured, slowly sliding off of Akira’s lap.

However, you were tugged back into a kiss, a lingering, affectionate lip-lock before Akira pulled away.

Your husband’s arms slid down, slid off of you as you walked away, and you felt his eyes honed on your retreating figure as you left the kitchen. You walked down the short hallway, taking a sharp right as you thump-thumped up the stairs.

You wasted little time in entering the bathroom, flipping on the light before the mahogany door was shut, followed by the telltale click as the lock was gripped and turned, effectively locking you in the bathroom. You shuffled over to the bathtub, sitting down on its porcelain edge.

You ran your clammy, sweaty palms over the jeans that covered your legs, drawing in a slow, shaky breath as a familiar wetness pricked at your eyes. Soon, your vision was distorted with hot moisture, moisture that soon trickled down your cheeks. A tight feeling ensnared you as your heart raced wildly, breathing one sob after another.

“I’m such a horrible wife,” you muttered bitterly, a matching smile curling your lips.

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #incubus!akira #reader #akiraxreader #incubus!akiraxreader #sfw #sort of angsty #request #selenecrown request #parental instincts #I legit cried while writing this part!

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earth-27 · 7 years

Photo

Barbara Gordon

Concept/Design by Roy Westerman

Art by Phil Cho

Barbara Gordon (1984-1999)

I’m Barbara Gordon. Most people call me Babs. I’m the daughter of two awesome cops: James “Jim” Gordon and Sarah Essen-Gordon, I also have a little brother, Jimmy, which we do not need to say much about and a cousin-turned-surrogate sister, Carrie Kelley. At night, after my brother and I were sent to bed, I would postpone sleep and instead listen through the thin walls of our home as my parents talked about the horrors they had witnessed that day on the job. I feel comfortable enough to say I was equally horrified and intrigued.

At a young age, I spent a lot of my time on computers and discovered I had a knack for not just their use, but deciphering code. By the time I was ten, I made myself into a self-trained hacker and would often become involved in a variety of causes, becoming a hacktivist before the word had ever been coined. Of course, I was what we called a “White Hat”, a good guy.

As teenager, I stowed away in the backseat of dad’s squad car hoping to sneak into the GCPD mainframe and hack their database (again, I was a good guy- I had good intentions, I promise) but instead I found my dad lied to my mom. He didn’t go to the precinct that night; he didn’t even get a call to a crime scene. Nope, dad went to a secret meeting with an urban legend.

I kept quiet and the next week, Sal Maroni and Carmine Falcone were both arrested by my father on charges that actually stuck. My father was promoted from Desk Sergeant to Lieutenant of the Vigilante Task Force. Within a month, the Gotham Gazette had caught a picture of the “Bat-Man” and just like that, Gotham was as obsessed with vigilante justice as I was.

I talked my dad into letting me enroll in self-defense classes. After studying Internet videos of the Batman, I realized I’d need more than just karate lessons and a few hours at the gym and so I lied about joining a few extracurricular activities in order to enroll in three other defense courses (Akido, Stick-Fighting, Judo) in addition to Boxing at the Wildcat Gym.

After news had broke that Batman was working with a teenage boy, I decided that it was time for a girl to show them how it’s done. So, I traded my black belt in for a utility belt…

Batgirl (1999-2000)

Batgirl began with a whimper, I’m sad to admit. I had the mask, the homemade costume (complete with cape and utility belt), and the attitude. But, it still took me weeks of rooftop patrols and back-alley stakeouts before I got a chance to prevent my first mugging… and I failed. I tripped on my way down a fire escape, but I didn’t give up. I did a sketch of the culprits and I made sure to commit their faces to memory. Later that month, I stopped a carjacking and recognized the tattoo on that guy’s neck. Borrowing my dad’s GCPD login credentials, I was able to gather that the tattoo belonged to the Badger Boulevard Ballers, a lower west side gang. So armed with this information and my unique brand of moxy, I paid the Ballers a visit.

I took a few lumps and maybe broke a rib or two, but I found that first victim’s wallet and returned it. It was a lot to go through for thirteen bucks and an expired gym membership card, but I was not going to let Batgirl start out as a joke. I believed in this… and it paid off. My take down with the ballers caught the attention of a certain duo who started investigating me. I am a bit ashamed to say I took them three hours to figure out who I was. They paid me a visit in the middle of my patrol the next night. I still remember the words of warning Batman gave me, “Stay out of this, Barbara”, he told me, I’m sure in an effort to scare me… but Bruce didn’t know me then as much as he though he did.

As my wounds mended, I set my sights on a new gang in town, calling themselves the Red Hoods. While I was in the middle of my research during my lunch hour in the school library’s computer lab, a boy that didn’t go to my school slipped me a note and had me follow him to a chauffeured car in the parking lot where I met billionaire Bruce Wayne who told me that he was aware of my research and realized that I wasn’t going to quit. So he made me a deal. He’d give me a computer with unlimited access to finish my research, an armored costume, actual crimefighting training, and all I had to do was let my injuries heal completely before he would let me go out on patrol again. Longest five weeks of my life.

Batgirl (2000-2004)

When I recovered from my beating, Batman kept his promise and not only did he officially endorse me for patrol duty, he even gave me a Kevlar bodysuit form-fitted to my dimensions. I’m not sure I want to know how he got it fit so right in some areas… Anyway! So, while I was recovering, Bruce did let me take the Bat-Computer for a spin. He was really protective of his “baby” at first (and I don’t blame him), but after he saw that I was the better hacker (he hated to admit it, it was a bitter pill for him to swallow, Bruce let me do the work on tracking down the Red Hood Gang’s movements and we figured out they planned to make a heist at the Ace Chemicals plant. This was my first big team-up with Batman and Robin and we did kick some major teeth in! With the gang’s leader cornered, he pulled a knife on Batman and in the ensuing fight, the wannabe mastermind got knockec over a railing and into a vat ov bbuly ooze. In the aftermath of the leader’s death, the Red Hood gang dissolved (much like their leaders body must have… still gross to think about), and we moved on to bigger fish.

As Batgirl, I saw a lot of action. The rise of much of our most notorious villains happened during my turn under the cowl, in what we called the “Long Halloween” (because it all started on Halloween night with Riddler and Mr. Freeze and kept going for several months like a parade of costumed freaks); I was present for Harvey Dent’s scarring and drastic shift into Two-Face; and aI also got to join “the Super Friends” (what Flash called the “team” of him, Supes, Double Dubs, GA, BC, Bats, Robin, and myself when we teamed up a few times before Brainiac’s trip to DC helped make us official as “the Justice League of America”) and I helped found the Titans. So Yeah… I’m a really big deal.

Now for the twist, even though I walked on the wild side, risking life and limb every night fighting ganglords and crocodile men, it was not being Batgirl that landed me where I am now. No, I was targeted by the Joker simply for being the daughter of Jim Gordon, Gotham’s top cop. Can you say irony?

Oracle (2004-)

Okay, yes… I am paralyzed. I live my life in a wheelchair now, all because a madman shot me in a bad to drive my father insane. It nearly worked, to tell you the truth. Hell, it nearly drove ME insane, too. But after I was done feeling sorry for myself, I realized I had a lot of work to do. First thing to do was take care of myself. I needed help and admitting that was difficult. So, I got myself into some physical, occupational, and psychological therapy. With that underway, I started to work on getting the Dynamic Duo back together, Bruce and Dick had a falling out and since I was in a coma, I was unable to talk some sense into them before they reached their breaking point. By the time I woke up, Dick was struggling with finding a new purpose in his life and Bruce was in a dark place. So first course of business, I helped get Dick set up as Nightwing in Blüdhaven, giving him a chance to carve his own path and step out of the shadow of the Bat, hoping that in so doing he would begin to see all that Bruce had offered him that he had been overlooking due to his rage.

With Dick taken care of, I then talked to Bruce, opening him up to the prospect of taking on a new Robin. I could not have predicted that he would choose a street-kid like Jason Todd to fill that void in his life, but to Batman’s credit, he saw what others never had seen in Jason before and was beginning to coax it out of the kid… and then the Joker broadcast his online torture and murder of Jason Todd and that’s when something happened that I could have never predicted… we were powerless to stop it. The Joker had devised a cyber-plot we were unprepared to handle, technologically and emotionally.

I know the very moment I became Oracle, it was the moment I saw Jason’s blood dripping from the Bat-Signal after my father allowed Batman to carry the body away. Now, just Batman has his Gotham, I have the World-Wide-Web. Now, I am not just Bat-Girl in a wheelchair, I am a critical part of the entire “capes and tights” franchise as an integral part of the operations of not just Batman’s crusade, but also those of the Justice League, the Titans, and the Outsiders… but I also the leader of my own team: the Birds of Prey! Yeah, I’m a big deal. ;)

#Barbara Gordon #Batgirl #Oracle #DC Comics #Earth 27 #Roy Westerman #Phil Cho

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coppicefics · 3 years

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Masked Omens: Week Eight, Part Two

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Celebrity section of the Capital Herald, dated 13th February 2021. Full image description and transcript below the cut. End ID.]

The Capital Herald, Saturday 13th February 2021 Celebrity section, page 19 Top story: Pepper Moonchild: “Women have been especially important to me” Presenter and interview expert kicks off our series on the women who’ve shaped the stars’ lives Pepper Moonchild is the sort of person who makes interviewing anyone from an entertainer to an astrophysicist seem effortless; she's known for her incisive questions and her flawless instincts. When it comes to asking her questions, then, I find myself surprisingly nervous. But, as all good interviewers can, she soon sets me at ease. “Mary Hodges. Here, I promised you my top secret hot chocolate recipe. How's the family?” Of course, Pepper practically is a member of the Capital Herald family, and she promised me that recipe at the Christmas party. With the pleasantries thus dispensed with, we settle down to get to the topic at hand; talking about Pepper. “Oh, I don't know if I like being on this side of things. I'm usually asking the questions! But of course I'm happy to answer them - go on, I'm just being dramatic.” Pepper is currently a judge on ITV's hit show, The Masked Singer UK, where she's now approaching the end of her second series on the panel. It's an import from South Korea, via the US - had Pepper watched any episodes before she signed up for the task? “No, not at all. Honestly, they started explaining the concept to me and I thought, 'what? How does this work? How does anybody not know when the most famous faces in showbiz are performing in front of them?' Then we started filming series one and it became 'how are any of us supposed to guess?' I'd like to think we're getting better at it, but who knows? It's always fun, regardless.” And the judges really don't have any inside information? “If anything, I think we know less than the audience - we can't exactly hop on our phones and look things up, the way people do at home. And - in case anyone was wondering - we don't do any research between the live shows, either. That would just ruin the fun. We do listen to theories from friends and family, though!” Pepper - or, to give her her full name, Pippin Galadriel Moonchild - is a woman of many talents. Her first television appearance came at just ten years old with her turn on Junior Mastermind (specialist subject: the Pendle Witch trials). While she didn't win, she made a real impression on viewers, and later went on to co-host children's talent show Showstarters alongside Michael Banner - a show that helped launch the TV careers of numerous young comedians, musicians and actors, including those of every member of the current Masked Singer UK panel. “I was so excited when I heard we were all going to be doing the show together,” Pepper confesses. “We all met on Showstarters when we were about thirteen years old, and kept in touch, but this is the first chance we've had to really work together since then. And who doesn't want to work with their friends?” Banner, having made the jump from presenting to production several years ago, is also involved in The Masked Singer UK.“Yes - she's so high up in the production hierarchy that we don't see a lot of her, but it's good to know she's there. She's always been a great example to me, an example of how you can start in one place and then sort of find your way to the job you really want. I think I've done all right at that, so far!” Banner is one of Pepper's role models, but she's far from alone. “There are loads of women - and other people, but I think the women have been especially important to me personally - who've really shown me that I can do anything the boys can do. I once did a whole presentation at school about Greta Kleinschmidt.” Kleinschmidt, as some readers may remember, was briefly the glamorous assistant of The Amazing Mr Fell before her very public return to The Harmony & Glozier Show back in her native Germany. Much was made of it in the press at the time, with speculation rife that she had broken Fell's heart and taken his secrets back with her to Harmony & Glozier. “I always thought she got a bit of a raw deal,” Pepper remembers, “I hated that the press were so focused on how she'd supposedly done an unforgivable wrong to this rising-star magician, and not the fact that she'd been really struggling with being so far from home. Besides, even the magician she'd been working with said she'd done nothing wrong and he wished her all the best. It was all very unfair, and I thought it was really brave of her to realise something wasn't working and change it like that.” Pepper can talk for days about the women she admires, it seems. “You see some really ugly attitudes towards successful women, even in this day and age,” she muses, “like Anathema, for example. What a voice that woman has, and yet she's constantly battling for people to take her seriously. But what I really admire is that she doesn't let that stop her. And look at the results - Narrative Devices has been at the top of the charts for weeks now.” Working on The Masked Singer has also allowed her to actually meet some of her heroes. “Agnes Nutter, for example, she's always been a big role model of mine. I've been practically devouring everything she writes since I was probably too young to be reading it! And Carmine Zugiber is one of the people who made me want to work on my interview skills; I love how she doesn't compromise on anything.”But, Pepper assures me, there's one woman who's done more than anyone to make her the woman she is today.“Carmine made me want to interview people, but it's my Mum (Tina Moon, a Capital Herald columnist) who got me started with everything in the first place. And she taught me to stand up and be counted, to follow my dreams, and always to reach out and help others up when I can. I do my best, I really do. I hope she's even half as proud of me as I am of her.” MARY HODGES This interview is part of a series called Me And The Women That Made Me, which will be running here on Saturday and Sunday every week until Mothering Sunday, which falls this year on the 14th of March. Next week, we’ll be talking to Jane Adams, star scorer of the England Women’s Rugby Team. To find more information, please visit our website at www.capitalherald.com/women-that-made-me.

Centre left: Celebrity news in brief: our weekly round-up Misrepresented? Brian Thames changes agent Brian Thames, comedian and The Masked Singer UK panellist, has split with his representatives at MetteTalent and signed with the independent B.Z. Agency, informally known in the industry as BuzzTalent. Reports vary on the reason for the change; a spokesperson for MetteTalent said, “Contracts end, and industry relationships are always changing. There is no suggestion that Mr Thames was unhappy with the service he received at MetteTalent; he has simply chosen to go in a different direction and, naturally, we wish him every success in the future. Thames' blog post on the subject, however, is a little more ambiguous. “I've been with MetteTalent since the moment I won Showstarters – they were partnered with the show and also offered representation to many of the other acts after the series ended. I signed with them when I was very young and, for many years, simply renewed our agreement every time it expired. However, I've since gained more industry experience, and I feel that Buzz – that's B.Z. Agency – is a better fit for me at this point in my life and career.” Thames continues, “My friend Warlock (Dowling, who hosts The Masked Singer UK) is already with them, and with many of the Showstarters contracts due for renewal soon, I may not be the only one to make a change. I am grateful to MetteTalent for taking me on at the start of my career, and look forward to new opportunities for all concerned.” Rumours abound that there is some deeper reason for this change in representation, with many speculating that the child stars of Showstarters may have been forced into unfair or even predatory contracts, lacking the industry knowledge to make better choices. Since then, however, Thames has had plenty of time to change agency, and hasn’t done so until now. It’s likely that any reasons Thames might have for changing agency will stay under wraps. There is no confirmation yet of any other stars leaving or planning to leave MetteTalent. Out and proud West End darling Gertrude Johnson has come out as a transgender woman. Speaking on Friday, Johnson told fans on Instagram, “I've wanted to tell you all this for a while, but I think now it's time. Hi, my name is Gertrude – but you can still call me Gert – and my pronouns are she/her.” A later video thanked fans for their support, and reminded them not to be too harsh on fellow fans who 'slipped up'. “To those of you leaving less supportive messages, I'd just like to say this. Each of us has the choice, every day, to be kind or to be cruel. I try to be kind whenever I can. If you call yourself a fan of mine, please try to do the same.” Gertrude’s second video also explained that she had already discussed her gender identity and pronouns with close friends and family. “When I said I was going to go public, my mates threw me a gender reveal at my parents’ house - balloons and everything,” she said, “so if you saw the words ‘she/her’ floating away over Tadfield last weekend, that’s why!”

Centre right: THE RUMOUR MILL Curated by Scuzz Fisher A MEETING OF MINDS: A doctor, a rapper and a journalist met with an unknown figure in a dark corner of a Kensington restaurant last week. What could they be planning...? MYSTERIOUS VISIT: A high-profile fashion designer was seen lurking in the vicinity of a biographer's home late on Monday night. Is a book in the offing...? SILVER SURFER: An astrologer of renown recently registered a new account on YouTube, a source tells us, and so far has yet to upload anything. But who's getting all those likes...? TEARING UP THE TOWN: Six young stars of stage and screen were seen staggering down an Oxfordshire village high street last Saturday night. The group were quite tipsy, according to one observer, and one was carrying a balloon that said ‘It’s A Girl!’. “Never mind, you’ve still got one,” one of the others was overheard reassuring the balloon-carrier. But one of what...? We rely on your observation skills to fill the Capital Herald’s celebrity pages. If you see or hear something about a celebrity that you think our readers would be interested in, please let us know. You can get in touch via our website at www.capitalherald.co.uk or email us at [email protected] Don’t worry if you have limited information to give us - if we can’t substantiate a claim or develop it into a full article, we’ll anonymise it and publish it here. We cannot guarantee publication of any sort as some verification is required - but all information and tips are kept completely confidential. We never reveal our sources! Correction: The Tadfield Arms has asked us to clarify that there was no fight in the bar on the night stated in this column two weeks ago, and as the only pub in Tadfield they feel they were unfairly identified. We apologise for this mistake.

Bottom left, ad: [Image Description: A picture of Madame Tracy, eyes closed, sitting behind a lit candle and a crystal ball. The photo is credited to QuiteUnlikely.net. The following text is superimposed over the image in an informal handwriting script. A star shape reads ‘As seen on TV!’ End ID.] Madame Tracy's Psychic Hotline 09098 79 06 66 As seen on TV! [Image Description: The following text is in small print at the bottom of the ad.] Calls cost 80p/minute plus network charge from a landline. Calls from a mobile network may cost more. Calls not guaranteed to be taken by Madame Tracy personally. You will be put through to one of Madame Tracy’s trusted assistants and may be asked to hold the line. Madame Tracy’s Psychic Hotline cannot dispense medical, legal or financial advice; please contact the appropriate accredited professional instead. Madame Tracy’s Psychic Hotline is not liable for the consequences of any advice or predictions given.

[End Transcript]

#very much fake news #masked omens #mo week eight part two #good omens fic #masked singer au #mine

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