Birds Of A Feather

Birds of a Feather

Remember when I said this blog was supposed to be a junkyard for a story I'm writing? Yea, that's what this is. In the first draft of my story, I wrote a lot of cute shit that can be cut and posted here.

Background: This takes place in the early days of team seven when they were given D ranked missions.

Rating: PG/E for Everyone

Warnings: None, its cute fluffy shit.

Kakashi sat again in another tree, supposedly watching over his gaggle of genin tracking the lost bird of a lord. Sasuke looked as interested as the jonin did. Sakura looked the most determined out of them all and Naruto looked, well-

“Sakura get them off of me, PLEASE!”

“Idiot! I told you not to put bird food all over you. Now you have to deal with those birds yourself.”

“Both you idiots, stop making a ruckus. You’ll scare away the stupid bird we're looking for.” The Uchiha simply didn’t miss an opportunity to say something harsh. Teamwork, children, Kakashi internally shouted. It hasn’t been long since they did the bell test but it's apparent the lesson has faded to the back of their minds. Out the corner of his single visible eye, the jonin saw a bird that fits the description. It seemed interested in Naruto’s ingenious bird-food jacket.

If the other two stopped berating him they might notice the objective right above their knucklehead teammate. Kakashi gave the team walkie-talkies to communicate with each other, but where was the learning experience if he found the bird for them. Was it an excuse to continue reading in his tree while his students were distracted? Perhaps.

“I don't even remember what the stupid bird looks like!”

“Naruto, it's bright yellow with a blue belly. Do you seriously not remember?” Sakura shouted, the walkie-talkie null and void if they continued using this form of communication. Sasuke only huffed and headed further away from his team, and the bird they needed to find. The Uchiha couldn’t believe this was his first mission. So simple a pack of dogs could do it and yet his team has been out in the woods for the past half-day. The feudal lord comes back home tomorrow and the genin couldn't handle a failed mission on his file. His brother, the traitor, never had a failed mission. Anything Itachi can do, I can too!

“I found it! I found it! Look, Sakura! Aren't I amazing?” Naruto’s loud voice echoed through the foliage. He better have it, because he just scared every bird in a ten-kilometer radius.

Kakashi peeked down to where his students all met where Naruto stood when he claimed he found the bird. Even from his distance, the jonin knew it was all wrong.

“NARUTO!” Sakura couldn’t resist and kicked the blonde boy 3 meters back.

“That bird is blue with a yellow belly. You are such a loser.”

“And… that's not what the lord’s bird looks like?”

“IDIOT!” We’ll be here for a while, might as well get comfortable. While his team continued to scare all living creatures away, Kakashi slightly relaxed his form before turning to the next page.

Damn,

I found out how to queue and schedule posts, and I should say sorry now. So much shit is being put on the schedule. I'm loading everything I want to post today. So excited.

One Thing I Hate About Writing

is that not every chapter I write will be as elegant as I want it to be. It's so fucking frustrating writing a chapter and it's not flowing, but you need the content of the chapter, and it's been a while since you uploaded a chapter so you kinda just force it out. Then you reread it and want to cry because it doesn't invoke the spiritual awakening you want it to.

I know not every chapter will be perfect, and hell, I could extend that to life in general, but when it's a story I care about, that I've stayed up till 4 in the morning writing, that I wrote 100k words of and decided to scrap the entire thing and start over. it feels like everything needs to be perfect.

oh my god, venting is so fun ya'll. I should have started this blog shit ages ago when I was on the edge of glory.

Anyways *coughs, and raises a church finger*

please excuse my rant.

"Might As Well, Right?"

Well Darlin, look at us now. A continuation of "Trust Me? You Stole Me?" I'm having so much fun writing this, slowly piecing the past together. Enough of me.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Black!fem!OC/reader

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Hints of Abuse/Manipulation. (closest I can get to expressing what's going on. I'm not trying to be pretentious, I literally can't bc I don't know where this story is going either. Something isn't right, is what I'm saying)

Series Masterlist

In the time she’s been there, Dove has never seen a guest visit the manor in the daytime. Sometimes when he had a gala to host or bigwig to impress, Bruce would open the gates to outsiders. Only at night, though. And never for any time longer than three hours. Those were the nights she hated the most. Bruce would bring up the evening in question two days before it was scheduled to take place, usually while they ate breakfast, and ask her what she wanted to do.

He was kind enough to offer two options. One, be his date and hang off his arm all night with the chance to socialize with people other than him and Alfred. Or two, hide in a windowless room with tv or a stack of books to keep her company while he entertained his guests on his lonesome. Dove found both options to be unpleasant.

The prospect of socializing with outsiders always felt tainted with the knowledge of who she would socializing with. Other rich people that, like Bruce, were out of touch with reality. Those were the type of people that could look her in the eye and not feel a sliver of concern.

She knew if she asked, her jailer would dress her in the finest jewels and silks. He would think Dove had begun to lean into the life he wanted to have with her. She made that mistake before. And there were few experiences more infantizing than being put in a room while Bruce hosts, with Alfred checking in on her every hour on the hour.

The new man placed across from her, on Bruce’s left side, presented a third option.

“A carnival?” This new man, closer to her age than Bruce’s, didn’t falter or pause cutting his food up while looking her in the eyes. She held eye contact and when he showed no sign of breaking it first, Dove cut her eyes to Bruce. Acrylic nails ‘clicked’ against the glass cup as the woman picked it up to take a drink. “I’m surprised you trust me enough to let me out of your sight.”

“Dick’s almost as good as me. But if you disagree, you’re more than welcome to attend the party as my date.” Dick smirked at her, daring her to take the invite to the party instead of the golden opportunity to escape her reality for a night with him. Pushing a fallen braid out of her face, Dove looked at the pair. Alfred was in the kitchen a couple of feet away, cleaning up after cooking their breakfast. These men at the table with her continued their meal, unconcerned with the fact that she stopped eating. “Or stay in the room and watch tv. You’re a couple of episodes behind that competition show you showed me, right?”

“The carnival,” Dove started, her fork moving again as she began picking at her food. She wanted to ask who this man was but refrained. What would it matter in the long run, she wondered. Clearly, this ‘Dick’ knew who Bruce was and what he did, both at night in the streets and to her.

“If it makes you feel better, my date will be there and would love a normal friendship with a girl around her age. Also, you probably won’t get another chance like this for a while. Might as well right?” Her nails thrummed against the table as Dove thought. Was she that desperate for outside contact that she’d settle for a trip to the carnival with two strangers that knew her situation and didn’t care?

“Sure." Brown eyes caught the action of Bruce readjusting the grip he had on his utensil. Still, she pressed on. "When’s the next time I’ll get to eat questionable junk food like a deep-fried triple-battered butter smothered double stuffed oreo?” It was then Alfred appeared at her side, his sixth sense about her empty plate right as always. He placed a gloved hand over her tapping fingers and looked deep into her eyes.

“Please. Don’t.”

-------

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Bruce said while watching jittery hands apply makeup to an awfully eager face. As much as he wanted to ask her to tone down her makeup, the light in her eyes made him refrain. It’s been a while since his caged bird has looked this excited. Not even the trip to Dubai, before it got ruined, caused such a reaction. It broke his heart to stay home and host the gala while she would be outside the manor tasting the small bit of freedom granted to her.

“No, Dick said tonight would be the last day the Hex Girls would be in town. I’ve been a fan for years! This’ll be my first time seeing them live.” Dove murmured, careful to stay absolutely still as she applied her eyeliner.

While she was genuinely excited to see her favorite band and be outside with normal people for the first time in months, Dove felt a second rush of excitement at the thought of being away from Bruce. She warred with herself after that breakfast, worried about her mental state if she leaned into this outing. As much as she wanted to hold back, her mind has already tricked itself into believing the couple she was going out with were friends instead of babysitters.

Steel eyes watched facial features be redrawn and colored to perfection, slowly he watched the woman he was infatuated with, return to her former glory. She smacked her lips three times to ensure the gloss had been evenly distributed before turning to look at him.

“How do I look?”

“Breathtaking.” Dove could feel her cheeks warm. Bruce doesn’t lie. He tricks and misleads until his opponent was too confused to move, but he wouldn’t lie. A compliment from her captor shouldn’t make her heartbeat any faster, and yet the muscle hammered away due to his honeyed words. “Maybe I’ll take you out next.”

“Maybe…”

“Would you like that?” She didn’t answer his question, but the billionaire paid no mind to that. He’d give anything to have her on his arm all night instead of out with his former sidekick. Canceling the outing would only strengthen the discontent in her heart. That would be spitting on the progress they’d made recently. Dove no longer scowled at him when he hugged her before he left the manor. Bruce had no desire to go back to how things were. “Dick should be arriving soon. We can wait downstairs.”

“What about your party? It starts in an hour, you should be getting ready.” The trail of perfume she left in her wake scrambled his mind with ease as she slid past him to grab her jacket on the bed.

“I don’t take that long to get ready. This is fine.” Together they strolled down the hall until the stairs started. The plaid skirt flounced with every step-down Dove took, something Bruce found hard to ignore. It wasn’t obscenely short, so saying something about it would only sour her evening before it began.

“Mistress Dove, that is a lovely outfit you have on.” Bruce could tell by the way Alred sucked in air that the woman in front of him had graced the butler with a rare smile.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“Though, I’m not sure if that jacket will keep you warm in the autumn weather. Might I suggest taking Master Bruce’s casual jacket?” Gloved hands waved the article of clothing as an option just as Dove and her shadow reached the last step. “The oversized look is currently in trend right now.”

Dove merely hummed. Bruce crossed his muscled arms over his chest and watched her, not reacting when the security system alerted the presence of Dick on his doorstep. The large door groaned as it swung open, followed by the sound of two pairs of footsteps headed to the main den.

“What are you all standing around for? You ready to go?” Dick asked with hand clasped in his companion’s grip.

Bruce has only met Koriand’r a few times before now. Each time, the alien princess looked more and more assimilated into earth culture. Tonight, it appeared she successfully convinced Dick into wearing matching outfits.

“Hello, I am Kori,” The girls were quick to acquaint themselves with one another, giving the men time to talk before the three young adults left.

“Have her back by one. Not a minute late.” Dick scoffed and looked at the girls.

“Scared she won’t want to come back to you, old man?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Carnival closes at midnight anyway. Might get some food afterward, I’ll have her keep you updated.”

“Right,” Bruce pulled a phone out of his pocket and tossed it to his former sidekick. “Here. Add your number to it.” Dick complied without a word, though he couldn’t help but give his mentor a judgemental glance.

“Dove,” The women paused as the gruff man called to one of them. Dick watched with amazement as Dove walked over to them. It appears she had been taught the name recall command.

“Yes?” her voice came out timidly as if she was a child at risk of being forced to stay home.

"I updated your phone, My number, Alfred's, and the house's are all..." Bruce led them a few steps back and Dick lost his ability to keep up with the conversation. He walked over to his date and clasped her hand, and the two waited for Bruce to set his bird free for the night.

“Don’t let him work you too hard, Alfred.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Master Dick. I’m happy to let you know I’ve been taking pilates to strengthen my core.” Kori laughed at the perceived joke, but Dick didn’t put it past the old man to actually begin pilates.

“I’m ready,” Dove announced. She had ditched her jacket for Bruce’s, the sheer size of it covered her thighs more than the skirt did. Her brown eyes looked troubled, and her shoulders were tensed to high heavens. Whatever Bruce did had the woman on the verge of issuing a rain-check

Alfred stepped away for a second at returned with a miniature backpack. Dove nodded her thanks and slipped her phone into the front pocket of the jacket while taking the offered accessory.

“1 o’clock, Dick.” The only response to the reminder was a half-assed wave while the girls clutched the other’s hand. Bruce resisted the urge to call the whole night off, his event included, to fix his error. Instead, the two men watched the trio of twenty-somethings pile into Dick’s car and speed out the driveway of Wayne Manor.

“Sir-”

“I’m going to get ready, Alfred. I’ll be down before the guests arrive.” Back up the stairs, Gotham’s golden prince went. His steps pressed harder on the steps than Alfred thought was necessary.

“Of Course Sir.”

I like batman and wolverine for the same reasons. Just two antisocial gloomy niggas forced to be on teams.

Not only that, they are never here for any of their respective team’s bullshit. First to dip at the sign of shenanigans.

Love them

I have other junkyard pieces, might post them here, then they'll finally have a home. They vary. From Beyblade to OUAT to original plots. Got some MHA, a half-baked zutara piece. Just all over the place.