Ann-whispers - Ann Whispers

"Whether you like it or not, I am your parent! My suggestion is that you get used to it."

Redcreste Academy: The School For The Struggling And The Dangerous - Chapter 1

AO3 Ver

Chapter 1: Welcome To Redcreste Academy

“In our world, powers evolve and grow alongside humanity. They are part of us all, after all. Everyone around you is born with powers, whether it be small or large, quiet or loud, innovative or destructive. Some will use their powers for little things in everyday life or maybe they’ll grow up to be someone… “righteous”… like a hero. Children are well… children. They are still growing and do not properly understand the world nor do they understand the powers they have been gifted, so more often and not these powers may get out of hand. It's normal for everyone of course but sometimes they will lose complete control, causing an incident or two. Perhaps even a tragedy. 

This is why our government and the great heroes that guard and guide us founded Redcreste Academy, a power specialty school for the children who are struggling with their powers. If your child’s powers are causing harm to others or to themselves, then we here at Redcreste Academy will provide them with all the facilities and resources, all the care and guidance they’ll need. Alongside providing them with the best of education and guidance to set them up for their futures, we will provide them with help them understand and control their powers and give them a safe environment to be free of judgement and fear of themselves.

We will provide one on one sessions with specially chosen trainers, doctors, or whoever it is you’ll need. If your power is causing others harm, causing yourself harm, or even if no one is being harmed yet the world shuns you for having the audacity to exist with such an ability, then we will provide whatever you’ll need to feel safe and supported in this world. So what if one or two things get destroyed, wouldn’t be the worst our students have done.

Yes, we are fully aware of our school’s reputation. Many call our children unpredictable, uncontrollable, villainous but I assure you that our children are simply that. Children. Children in need of care, respect, and help. Many of our children may have been forced into administration by law and court because of behavioral issues, destruction, or whatever incidents might have occurred but they’re getting the help they need to take back control of what they are doing but their presence doesn’t distract from the fact that many enter this school willingly because of health reasons or perhaps to get away from the judgement other schools have given them.

But nevermind what you have done to get into this school. We are happy that you are here and we are happy to help you with whatever struggles you are facing. For a brighter and safer future for us, let's start with ourselves first. You can’t help the world if you can’t help yourself first, especially when you need it. 

I am your principal Miss Sullivan, and I welcome you to Redcreste Academy.”

———

Brooke Rovin turned her head to look out the car window as she sat in the very back seat, a hero and their sidekick shooting through the sky, in between the buildings and over the trees, unfortunately too fast for Brooke to get a good look. Flight powers all looked similar but always had very little differences in how they worked and Brooke loved looking for all the little differences.

Human society has grown and shaped itself around powers. The buildings and cars designed to withstand those with inhuman strength, the roads designed to be able to handle speedsters or those with their own ways of travel, the bridges and wires always making room for those with flight, the doctors ready for whatever accidents may occur or whatever way a power may affect your health, the way the government always made sure to keep a close eye on everything to keep things in check.

If you asked Brooke Rovin what she thought about powers she’d tell you they were a part of the nature of humanity that everyone sees and knows exists yet very few understand. It is something everyone is born with, something everyone is blessed with, something that grows alongside you. Something that can be strong and bright or weak and quiet (or so they say). Some use their powers to do good while others choose to do harm and others use it simply for their day to day. 

That's how heroes and villains were created after all. Annoying really how they cause unneeded violence everywhere but Brooke did oh so enjoy watching them fight. She got to study powers when given no rules or restrictions and oh how she loves figuring out every way they channeled abilities and what could be done better and the ways the powers affect the body and theorizing on how the negative effects could be balanced more-

Oh, if Brooke could she would catch bits and parts of them all, store them in jars, and then study them under a microscope. Though that is not physically possible because powers can not be simply grabbed and stored into something and they are immeasurable and can not be cut up. Brooke also has yet to own a microscope, or jars. Maybe she could ask her parents for one…

Though, she will have to wait when they have stopped being upset, them and her older siblings. They have yrt to say a word on the way to her new school. They all were furious when it was said that Brooke would be sent to Redcreste Academy. They didn’t want it known that they couldn’t contain their daughter’s dangerous abilities and were mad at the teachers who yelled back at them. Brooke apologized and admitted she was at fault for not controlling herself and that she will try to understand what upset so many people. 

Brooke can sort of understand why they were at her, but she was doing what her parents had always told her to do. They were always talking about how Brooke should become a hero like them and do good and if in a dangerous situation she should try to calm people down and tell them not to panic. According to most, an earthquake counts as a dangerous situation. She told them not to panic, they stopped panicking. It’s how her power works of course they all immediately stopped. It’s voice compulsion, they’ll do what Brooke says and Brooke said to calm down.  

Maybe they were upset at the morality of what she did? Yes, she did violate consent, and Brooke will admit to that. People do not like being controlled (Brooke’s abilities seem to be able to also affect emotions and thoughts it seems but not enough that the person’s awareness that they’re being controlled is absent… it is probably instinct because people do not like being “mind controlled”). Though they seemed more upset at Brooke’s powers being used at all. Brooke’s parents had always called her dangerous, when they thought she couldn’t hear her, Brooke has yet to understand why. 

But why would any of that make them so upset at having to send her to Redcreste Academy. Everyone says that that school is where they send all the dangerous children. She is dangerous, is she not? This way she’ll get to keep herself under control just as her parents want. Brooke will also get to learn more about her abilities as Redcreste is deemed a controlled environment. Brooke won’t say it out loud but she has always wanted to see what her own abilities could do, the limits it could possibly reach… testing her abilities on rats she managed to catch in the garden had its difficulties and limitations unfortunately.

But studying her own powers is not the most exciting thing. Studying the others will be. Redcreste students are always described as uncontrollable children with dangerous abilities. Oh, the things Brooke could observe and analyze. Brooke got herself a new notebook for this. Matilda had informed her using a camera was stalking so sketching will have to do. She always loved trying to figure out how powers worked and trying to learn the limits of people’s abilities. She was told it was people watching… yes she supposes it is. She is watching people to study them. She fails to see why her brother was laughing as he said that, it was not stalking at the very least. 

She’s only followed someone to study them once. No one realized so therefore, there is no problem.

Brooke could see the car approaching closer and closer to the school, her hand reached towards her suitcase. Other kids wearing the signature red uniforms of Redcreste Academy, were coming into view around the sidewalks and out of the cars parked near the streets. Brooke saw her mother let out a sigh.

Brooke knew they were upset, she wishes that they were not but she always seems to make their moods worse. So she’ll keep quiet for now. She’s got classes to learn from and people to dissect. That is all she will ever need.

It will be a good few years, even if she spends these years alone yet again. Brooke will make sure it will be good nonetheless..

My Love In The Sea

The captain walked near the side of the ship. The rest of the crew were asleep, note a single light was on. The captain looked across the vast and endless ocean and looked for something. Any splash or small gleam in the darkness on the night. The call however stayed, calling the captain to jump into the waters below and to return again into the arms of the ocean, to return again into the arms of her beloved. She smiled at the memories of walking to a hidden part of the bridge under a cliff where she and her beloved would meet every evening before she started sailing. They would spend hours together, talking, singing, giving each other gifts and kisses all over. Exchanging gifts was something they loved to do. Her love always enjoyed giving her rings and shells while she gave her dearest small flowers and necklaces.

The captain reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a locket. It was silver and had flower and ocean themed carvings all over. She ran her fingers over the design, feeling every lovely engraving of the locket. The inside part of the locket and her beloved, engraved into the metal. Forever together in some sort of way. One of the last things her love ever gifted to her. The last thing her dearest had done with her the last time they ever spoke. Before that darn ship decided to cast her dearest out on the sea.

Every day that passed without her love made her want to tear through the entire ocean floor apart so she could simply see her love one last time. Oh how she wished she could claw open the throats of those who dared to blame the storm on her love and cast her over the boat and into the ocean. Well, she supposes blasting their ship and leaving them to drown was a good enough punishment. Their fear filled faces and cries for help were almost as wonderful as her beloved’s singing.

Her fingers still moved over the engraving of the necklace, she wondered what the water below would feel like, if they would feel as warm and comforting as her love was no matter how cold they both were in the winter. She wondered if her love would smile at her again even after all the things she had done.

She had bathed villages in blood, she burned down villages and ships, drowned helpless victims, tricked all those who dared to challenge her into giving up their lives for a failed attempt to gain riches. All their screams were a wonderful melody in her ears. She had explored almost every piece of land and ocean that the world had to offer. Gained almost every piece of treasure and gold that she could get her hands on.

She heard her love call out for her again. She saw the way the water moved towards her. Her beloved was calling for her again. She promised her love that she would travel the world for her and then she would come and return to her. Her love seemed to have missed her. What a silly thing her dearest was. She knew her love had followed her around on every trip and venture.

She knew they were always there with her. But she couldn’t say the same. She wasn’t truly with her beloved yet. But she was about to be.

She looked down into the waters below. The locket around her neck. She stared into the ocean and heard the final calling of her love. Her love was waiting underneath the waters for her. Her love had been waiting every day. Her beloved was calling out for her so that they could be together again. Oh how she was ready to return to her beloved's arms. To see her smile and laughter again.

The captain looked behind the ship once more. She saw her first mate standing behind her. Her first mate didn’t need her to speak to know what she was about to do and where she was about to go. A silent nod and they returned back inside the ship.

She smiled. She stood off at the edge of the ship. And she jumped.

Right into the waters below.

Deep into the ocean where you can never be found.

And there she saw her once more. Her beloved’s long hair and tail practically curled around her. Arms wrapped around her as she felt every sense of drowning leave and felt herself breathing under the surface. Her beloved’s voice happily laughed right into her ears and she felt her body slowly seem to change in some way, apparently her love couldn’t wait anymore.

The siren was ecstatic to see her dearest again. She waited so long and so patiently for them to be together again. She felt arms return the hug as her darling’s transformation continued on. She giggled as she removed parts of the needless complicated fabric so that her love’s changing could be as painless and comfortable as possible. 

Death never came to both on the nights they fell into the ocean. Supposed death couldn’t keep them apart forever. Because here they were together in the ocean once more.

Hey there! Do you mind writing a snippet about a captured hero in a I-have-you-now-my-pretty situation by a dominating seductive villain? And can you make it very dark please? Thank you so much and I absolutely love your writing!

"There now, isn't this much better?" the villain murmured, stroking their fingers through the hero's damp hair. "You're so pretty beneath all the grime and the blood."

"I prefer the grime and the blood."

"I might also prefer you nice and quiet. Consider that."

"Oh," the hero's eyes darkened, "no doubt. What's more attractive than your prey being forced docile, unable to fight back?"

The villain raised a brow, in the reflection of the mirror. "You. Trying to fight me. Failing."

The hero felt bile claw up their throat at that. They resisted the urge to swallow, to tense; it wouldn't do them any good, and it would probably only serve to delight the creep.

The villain seemed to catch it anyway, because they smiled.

"I do like your spirit," the villain mused. They continued to stroke through the hero's hair, carefully and diligently untangling every knots and snarl. "You're beautiful when you're angry. Defiant. You get this fiery, helpless look in your eyes. The blush is also very becoming. So, you see...it wouldn't be half as fun if you didn't try to fight back."

The hero studied them, trying to decide if that was reverse psychology. They might have preferred it if it was reverse psychology.

The villain laughed, softly, at whatever expression they saw on the hero's face.

The hero jerked their head away. It felt good for all of three seconds before the villain reeled them back in with a much harder yank, making the hero's breath catch. They pulled the hero's head back against the chair, baring their throat.

Perhaps as punishment for moving, or perhaps simply because they could, the villain leaned down over their shoulder to press a kiss to the hero's throat. It looked positively vampiric in the glass. The hero half expected teeth. They hated that they shivered. They hated that they couldn't look away, in the spirit of car crashes, natural disasters and other terrible fascinating things.

The villain's smile edged a fraction sharper, a fraction smugger. They held the hero's eyes as they trailed more kisses along the hero's neck, across their racing pulse, until the hero was taut.

"Go on," the villain whispered. "Tell me not to touch you again. Dealer's choice on if you try a threat, command or plea."

"I think I might prefer me nice and quiet."

"Mm." The villain straightened. They turned their attention to the hero's appearance again, considering. "I knew you liked me too."

"That's not - I don't -"

The villain's smile turned positively wolfish.

The hero snarled; too frustrated for words, too...well. Too many things. Frustrated was the best pick. Better than fear, sinking and entirely too helpless.

The annoying thing was that it did feel better to be clean, with their wounds tended. It simply didn't feel better to have had the villain force them into a bath and out of their own clothes. It was like having their identity, their resistance, scrubbed away alongside the dirt. Dressed in the villain's clothes, with the villain's scent clinging to their skin, it was impossible to forget where they were for even a moment.

It was impossible to forget who the villain thought they belonged to.

There were times when the villain could be charming, seductive. When they first met the hero had even been flattered. The problem was that, after the seduction and shiny polish of it all had worn off, it was perfectly obvious that the villain didn't actually care if the hero was seduced or not. It was a preference - not a requirement. The villain would do as they pleased regardless.

Hopefully, the hero's friends would get there soon.

(They had to get there soon, right?)

"So pretty," the villain murmured once more. "And all mine. Let's go show you off, shall we?"

"I'm not yours." The hero had to say it. Even when they knew it was a trap, even when their voice came out hoarse, they had to say.

The villain laughed again, and swivelled the chair around so that they were facing each other. They smoothed their hands down the hero's trembling thighs. Then, their expression turned cold, as absolute as an old black-and-white fairytale, as unstoppable a death. They leaned in.

"Oh, darling. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you will be."

Bruce being so done with life because none of his kids treat their medical files on the batcomputer with the importance it deserves. And the worst part is, he can't tell if it's on purpose or if they're all Just Like That.

Dick:

He loves his eldest son but for some reason, he refuses to do anything but put down estimated recovery times in his injuries folder. It's usually in the range of "2 weeks" to "48 hours" but that just leaves Bruce worrying about what happened.

One time, he put down 3 months and he nearly had a heart attack till his son called and told him Kor'i had dumped him and that this was how long he was going to be wallowing.

Jason:

Is nice enough to tell him what happened but doesn't add the degree of injury.

So he'll put down "stabbed" but won't elaborate on whether it was a flesh wound or worse. Bruce goes grey very, very early after Jason is on the field.

Tim:

Gives him just the location of the injury and leaves him to guess what happened.

Could say "arm" or "back of the head" or, on one memorable occasion, "spleen", but won't say what the heck happened to any of those parts.

Was he stabbed?? Shot at?? Who knows. Certainly not Bruce.

Damian:

Only mentions the retribution he got for any injuries he received.

"It's been handled", "he'll never be able to get the drop on me again" and more often than not, just the word "avenged".

Bruce is surprised he has any of his original hair colour left at all.

Duke:

By far the worst one. He writes down injuries in terms of his own pain scale.

Could write "OW!" or "Not Gucci" or "Better than that time Jason hit me in the face with a TV remote".

Once wrote "Non-fatal" which sent Bruce into a spiral because "holy shit Duke?? What do you mean non-fatal?? Yeah I sure hope your injuries weren't lethal?!"

Cass:

Has never been injured on patrol. Often leaves him question marks in her file which...yeah, fair enough.

Prompts about a superhero who finds out their parent is a villain?

“You’re evil!”Their parent sighed. “Morality is a subjective concept, I’ve taught you that. You break the law every time you go out in that cape.”“I’m a hero, it’s different!”“Name one quantifiably ‘evil’ thing I’ve done.”The teen hero opened their mouth, full of righteous fury. Then closed it. They were sure their parent had been caught doing something evil, yet they couldn’t think of anything. Not a single dastardly crime.

—

“You are not my mother.”The villainess smiled, ever in control, ever amused by their shuddering rage. “You can deny it all you want, little hero. You were born from me; my blood runs in your veins. My powers are your powers.”“Your morals,” they spat, “are not my morals.”Her smile widened. “Not. Yet.”

—

“It’s not that I’m trying to control you,” their parent said, a comforting hand on their shoulder, “but I have to keep you safe. You know that right?”“By any means necessary,” they repeated dully, thoughts whirling too fast to spare any inflection.Their parent squeezed their shoulder. “So becoming the city’s most feared supervillain isn’t that outrageous, right? Definitely no worse than Kiera’s mum baking 800 cupcakes for the PTA bake sale.”

—

if you like these prompts, consider buying me a coffee?

The ropes were incredibly thick, bounding the hero tightly to the chair. They tried to wiggle their way out but the ropes only dug deeper into their flesh. Shoot shoot shoot.

[Hero] gazed at their friends who banged against the container desperately, cursing at the criminal as they stalked towards the hero.

"You've got two choices, dear hero." [Villain] murmured as they held a controller with two buttons in front of their face. "Incinerate the rest of the city or incinerate your friends."

"Screw you." [Hero] spat in [Villain]'s face. Their lover simply laughed as they wiped off the spit. If the hero knew who the love of their life really was, they would've never said yes.

"If you don't make a choice, I'll just press them both. And remember either option, you choose..." [Villain] pressed their lips onto their captive's cheek, grazing a finger over the ring on [Hero]'s villain. "You're stuck with me."

“You can’t adopt me! I already have parents.”

“Oh, well if that was the only thing bothering you, I can fix that.”

“What?”

“Preferably, if you give me your parents’ identities, I can get rid of them right now. Otherwise, I’d have to systematically get rid of all this city’s parents with kids who are roughly your age, gender, and ethnicity. It’d take me a while, but it’ll be worth it to have you as my kid.”

Concept #10

A group of villains team up on the city’s most powerful and respected hero. Once they manage to reveal the hero’s secret identity, they’re shocked to find out that the hero is a child.

You know what I love...

Villains who have their agenda's, have their plans to topple the system and create their own in its place. They're so full of anger and bitterness that they vow to crush those that rule.

And still look at the hero in front of them and say "I'm not going to fight you."

Because this isn't their fight.

There simply tools

And their so young its cruel to thrust them into this...a fight that they will surely die from.

The child doesn't listen but the Villain only blocks, their attacks are weak, untrained and raw and it wouldn't take much to kill them off. But the Villain won't, how can you repair a broken world if you crush the products it created.

The source must be changed, ripped right from the top and so they will not hurt the hero...they let them go and see them again and again... Each time they look worst for wear.

Help is offered but always refused until one day.. Until one day they can no longer attack and sob and cry for help. Their bleeding from wounds they hastily call training and it breaks the bad guys heart.

It only strengthens their resolve, to end those selfish egotistical spawns...Who sit comfortably on their thrones using children as pawns.