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Don't mind me, I'm just experimenting with a plot bunny.
Lots of swearing, because Jason.
( Read more... )
Lots of swearing, because Jason.
( Read more... )
(no subject)
Nov. 18th, 2012 09:29 amTitle: Reminiscent
Rating: G
Characters: Bruce and Steph. Bruce’s POV.
Timeline: Robin 124
Summary: Bruce said he’d visit Spoiler in the hospital. This is that visit.
It's evening when he arrives at the hospital. He makes sure he isn't seen as he traverses the grounds.
The window is open. He wonders if Stephanie had insisted.
He expected her to look frail, laying there, pale and bruised and covered in bandages.
She doesn't, really. The Spoiler looks like fallen warrior aching to get back up again, even as she sleeps.
He reaches forward slowly, silently, and brushes the damp strands of hair from her face. He sees the potential in her, but it would be selfish to utilize it. (It's bad enough, a part of him says, that he needs Tim.) It would be better set to something else; something that won't snuff that light out forever.
He's half way out the window when he hears her voice, hoarse but strong.
( stop right there, buster )
Rating: G
Characters: Bruce and Steph. Bruce’s POV.
Timeline: Robin 124
Summary: Bruce said he’d visit Spoiler in the hospital. This is that visit.
It's evening when he arrives at the hospital. He makes sure he isn't seen as he traverses the grounds.
The window is open. He wonders if Stephanie had insisted.
He expected her to look frail, laying there, pale and bruised and covered in bandages.
She doesn't, really. The Spoiler looks like fallen warrior aching to get back up again, even as she sleeps.
He reaches forward slowly, silently, and brushes the damp strands of hair from her face. He sees the potential in her, but it would be selfish to utilize it. (It's bad enough, a part of him says, that he needs Tim.) It would be better set to something else; something that won't snuff that light out forever.
He's half way out the window when he hears her voice, hoarse but strong.
( stop right there, buster )
(no subject)
Mar. 8th, 2012 08:40 am
Mama & Papa
Walk in the park and it's getting dark
And I don't wanna be alone
Miss my Mummy and I miss my Daddy
Won't you please bring them back home
Left of Center
If you want me
You can find me
Left of center off of the strip
In the outskirts and in the fringes
In the corner, out of the grip
Superchick
I wear a disguise
I'm just your average Jane
The super doesn't stand for model
But that doesn't mean I'm plain
If all you see is how I look
You miss the super chick within
And I christen you Titanic
Underestimate and swim
Humpty Dumpty
Say you were split, you were split in fragments
And none of the pieces would talk to you
Wouldn't you want to be who you had been
Well baby I want that too
Fly
Everybody wanna try to box me in
Suffocating every time it locks me in
Painting their own pictures then they crop me in
But I will remain where the top begins
Cause I am not a word, I am not a line
I am not a girl that can ever be defined
Fix You Up
What I wanted most, what I wanted most, what I wanted most
Was to get myself all figured out
And what I figured out, what I figured out, what I figured out
Was that I needed more time to figure you out
There’s not a lot for you to give if you’re giving in
And there’s not a lot for you to feel if you’re not feeling it
The Tower
She says I need not to need
Or else a love with intuition
Someone who reaches out to my weakness
And won't let go
I need not to need
I've always been the tower
But now I feel like I'm the flower trying to bloom in snow
Run The World (Girls)
My persuasion can build a nation
Endless power, with our love we can devour
You'll do anything for me
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two drabbles for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fiction_drabbles
Mar. 3rd, 2012 05:48 pmTitle: Mnemonist
Fandom: DC
Character: Barbara Gordon
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Summary: A photographic memory is a double-edged sword.
Nothing is ever forgotten. Images sink into her mind like ink into skin, portraits of her
past that never fade.
It gives her an edge no weapon will, and it can't be taken away from her. Brutal crimes, vital clues, secret files; they're stored forever behind her eyes.
She remembers the way Jason fought, unbridled passion driving every strike. She remembers the way Sarah walked, each and every stride as brisk and confident as the last. She remembers the way Stephanie flew through smog and stars with Cassandra.
She will never forget her mother's smile.
She'll never forget his, either.
Title: The Quiet Night
Fandom: DC
Character Barbara Gordon
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Summary: She thinks she remembers everything, but she doesn't.
Sometimes, when Barbara sits high above the city's spires, she almost remembers. It's an ache in her chest that she can’t quite place, a wistful thought that she can’t quite grasp.
As she stares at the sinking sun, the breeze against her lips almost feels like a playful kiss, the warmth on her skin a tender caress.
It's only for a few moments, stolen from a time that never was. The breeze dies, and the warmth fades, and she is alone in the dark.
She searches the sky for a familiar smile, but all she can see are dead stars.
Fandom: DC
Character: Barbara Gordon
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Summary: A photographic memory is a double-edged sword.
Nothing is ever forgotten. Images sink into her mind like ink into skin, portraits of her
past that never fade.
It gives her an edge no weapon will, and it can't be taken away from her. Brutal crimes, vital clues, secret files; they're stored forever behind her eyes.
She remembers the way Jason fought, unbridled passion driving every strike. She remembers the way Sarah walked, each and every stride as brisk and confident as the last. She remembers the way Stephanie flew through smog and stars with Cassandra.
She will never forget her mother's smile.
She'll never forget his, either.
Title: The Quiet Night
Fandom: DC
Character Barbara Gordon
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Summary: She thinks she remembers everything, but she doesn't.
Sometimes, when Barbara sits high above the city's spires, she almost remembers. It's an ache in her chest that she can’t quite place, a wistful thought that she can’t quite grasp.
As she stares at the sinking sun, the breeze against her lips almost feels like a playful kiss, the warmth on her skin a tender caress.
It's only for a few moments, stolen from a time that never was. The breeze dies, and the warmth fades, and she is alone in the dark.
She searches the sky for a familiar smile, but all she can see are dead stars.
