jayeinacross (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jayeinacross) wrote2012-08-31 12:09 pm
jayeinacross) wrote2012-08-31 12:09 pm
[Fic] 5 comic drabbles
5 drabbles that are 500 words or less in various comic fandoms (DCU, The Walking Dead, Marvel 616, written for prompts on the comicdrabbles comm on lj. Ratings range from G to PG.
***
Flight (Prompt - First; DCU)
The first flight is always the best.
Seeing Dick, how he swung from rooftops with the same ease and joy as he did from a trapeze in a circus tent, happy to fly no matter where he was.
Jason, with all his bravado, couldn’t hide the mix of terror and excitement on his face as he leapt from the building.
The way that Tim was overwhelmed by the reality of the bitter night air of Gotham, so fresh and different from training in the Cave, but soon took to the adrenaline rush of flight.
Stephanie’s pure elation at flying like this, wearing the costume that holds so many memories, and bringing her own joy and determination to it.
The confidence and arrogance of a trained assassin, but even Damian was humbled by the experience.
And just as the first flight is so eagerly anticipated, so cherished, the last flight is always unexpected, always unknowingly taken.
When Dick came home, not realizing that he would be leaving again too soon, and leaving Robin behind.
How Jason would be carried away from the wreckage of a warehouse, never to fly like that again.
The night that Tim came home to find that everything he had worked for, everything he loved, had been snatched away in one moment.
All of Stephanie’s dreams come true ripped away too soon.
And a moment yet to come, looked to with impatience, yet dreaded all the same.
***
Scarred (Prompt - Fingers; DCU)
When Clark kisses him, Bruce notices how smooth and unmarred his fingers are on his jaw, where the cowl doesn’t cover his face.
Putting their hands together, there is such a stark contrast - Bruce’s hands are scarred and bruised and rough, where Clark’s are intact and unmarked. Not from lack of hard work, Bruce knows; it is only something else that sets them apart.
Such an accurate representation of who they are. Bruce can’t ignore how flawed he is next to Clark, how ugly his hands are from the ugly work that he does.
But Clark kisses every fingertip, whispers that he’s beautiful. He traces every scar, like he’s trying to memorize their shape, and holds Bruce firm when he tries to pull away.
“Every scar has a story,” Clark says, raising Bruce’s hand to his mouth.
“They’re...not happy stories.”
“They’re a part of you,” Clark says simply.
He says that like it’s a good thing, like his scars are something more than a testimony to his sins, more than a sign that he will never win.
It is so like Clark to love someone who isn’t deserving of it; to bring the burdens of another person onto himself without a thought.
Though Bruce will never voice these thoughts, Clark can see them clear in his eyes, in the little self-deprecating smiles, and Clark will never give up making Bruce see that he is good enough, and always has been.
***
dare to dance? (Prompt - Dancing; DCU)
Jason's smirk is a dare, and he holds out his hand like a challenge, but Bruce won’t give him the satisfaction of folding. He takes the offered hand with a smile, but it’s not a Bruce Wayne smile – not a goofy grin, but a sharp quirk of his mouth; a smile that is just Bruce.
They’re both used to ignoring the disapproving, gossiping public, so they don’t even hear the fragments of whispers (“his son,” “flaunting it”, always was a trouble maker”).
None of it matters.
Jason used to make him smile, make him laugh when nobody else could, and when Jason whispers in his ear about how Bruce was smart not to dance with the faux-redhead wearing a garish shade of pink (“She looks like a fish in a cardigan, B.”), Bruce remembers what that feels like.
It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time, and it’s not exactly the same – tinged with regret, tainted by grief – but he’s just glad that it’s back.
That Jason’s home again.
Bruce murmurs back that the brunette he had danced with instead greatly resembled a parrot, squawking and all, and Jason chuckles.
(“You never did have the greatest taste in women, Bruce.”)
It’s not how Bruce imagined their reconciliation beginning, but he can’t complain.
***
Vengeance (Prompt - Dominance; The Walking Dead)
It’s the little things that make Rick dominate whatever room he’s in. The way he stands, tall and strong, despite the missing hand. The way he speaks without fear, having seen too much already. The hardened, determined look in his eyes.
Andrea stays in Alexandria because that’s where she’s needed, and though she worries about the others – she can’t help that; after all, there is always something to worry about – she knows that she has to be there. Andrea doesn’t mind at all that Rick is the leader and she’s the sharpshooter behind the lines. They are both good at what they do.
Whether it was circumstance, nature, or a little bit of both, it’s clear that Rick is a leader, and Andrea is happy with that.
When they return, she’s up in the tower, and she knows immediately that something’s wrong. She waits only long enough to ensure that nobody is following them, that it’s safe, and rushes down as fast as she can.
They can barely talk about it. Maggie is completely torn apart, and Sophia has just shut down.
For once, Rick looks almost defeated – but Andrea knows him too well for that. Glenn is gone. Not just one of their own, but one of the first, from the campsite, and Andrea can see it in his eyes.
That look in his eyes, one which Andrea has seen more than once, and in the direst situations.
It was there after Dale was taken by the cannibals; when they hunted for the monsters who returned him, dying.
When they avenged their friend, someone they loved.
It’s that look that makes Andrea truly aware of how much he can dominate a room without even trying; that look lets her know when Rick is out for blood. Out for revenge.
***
Lost (Prompt - Beach; Marvel 616)
They find him on the sandless shore of Utpoia. Logan will never forget how his eyes were so dull and blank; the knowledge that he might have seen them bright and alive once more will never leave him.
Now Kurt is gone, and Logan's stranded. He left a part of himself on those rocks at Utopia that day, and the waves washed it away.
They burn him. The words of everyone spoken are sincere and true, but they still sound so hollow to Logan, and a part of him dies out with the embers of the fire.
Logan knows that despite what he says, and despite what happened afterward, Hope wasn’t worth it.
Nothing was worth losing Kurt.
Time passes, and he goes on, but Logan never recovers what he lost that day.
And then the Age of Apocalypse taunts him with what everything he wants, dangles it in front of him and snatches it back. It takes away the daughter he never got to have, makes him see yet again the woman he could never touch, and brings him back the man he lost.
Except it’s not his Kurt.
There’s something different in his eyes, something that’s always there, reminding him of what a dark world has done to the best man that Logan has ever known.
Not-his-Kurt goes home with them. It throws Logan, because not-his-Kurt is fixated on revenge, but he still manages to fall into that familiar routine, and then—
He’ll remind Logan that he’s not his friend. He’ll tell him not to call him elf; he’ll make a careless, callous remark; he’ll whip out one of his swords and swing it with cruel precision.
But still, sometimes Logan will reach out to touch, open his mouth to call an affectionate nickname, and every time he has to consciously force himself to stop.
And then the elf – because that’s how Logan will always remember Kurt; whether he call himself Wagner or Darkholme – gives his little speech about protecting human life, and Logan can’t help but smile.
They’ve both loved and lost – Kurt won’t say it, but Logan can tell. And Logan just keeps on losing, because he might not get along with everyone in their X-Force, but nothing ties people together more than life and death, and suddenly Warren’s gone, and Betsy’s gone, and Fantomex is gone—
Maybe Betsy’s right; this is the worst part of himself, and he’ll never get back what he lost that day on Utopia, when he buried his best friend, but maybe it’s not too late to save it.
To save what little of a family that he has left with X-Force, because nothing’s worth losing that again.
***
Flight (Prompt - First; DCU)
The first flight is always the best.
Seeing Dick, how he swung from rooftops with the same ease and joy as he did from a trapeze in a circus tent, happy to fly no matter where he was.
Jason, with all his bravado, couldn’t hide the mix of terror and excitement on his face as he leapt from the building.
The way that Tim was overwhelmed by the reality of the bitter night air of Gotham, so fresh and different from training in the Cave, but soon took to the adrenaline rush of flight.
Stephanie’s pure elation at flying like this, wearing the costume that holds so many memories, and bringing her own joy and determination to it.
The confidence and arrogance of a trained assassin, but even Damian was humbled by the experience.
And just as the first flight is so eagerly anticipated, so cherished, the last flight is always unexpected, always unknowingly taken.
When Dick came home, not realizing that he would be leaving again too soon, and leaving Robin behind.
How Jason would be carried away from the wreckage of a warehouse, never to fly like that again.
The night that Tim came home to find that everything he had worked for, everything he loved, had been snatched away in one moment.
All of Stephanie’s dreams come true ripped away too soon.
And a moment yet to come, looked to with impatience, yet dreaded all the same.
***
Scarred (Prompt - Fingers; DCU)
When Clark kisses him, Bruce notices how smooth and unmarred his fingers are on his jaw, where the cowl doesn’t cover his face.
Putting their hands together, there is such a stark contrast - Bruce’s hands are scarred and bruised and rough, where Clark’s are intact and unmarked. Not from lack of hard work, Bruce knows; it is only something else that sets them apart.
Such an accurate representation of who they are. Bruce can’t ignore how flawed he is next to Clark, how ugly his hands are from the ugly work that he does.
But Clark kisses every fingertip, whispers that he’s beautiful. He traces every scar, like he’s trying to memorize their shape, and holds Bruce firm when he tries to pull away.
“Every scar has a story,” Clark says, raising Bruce’s hand to his mouth.
“They’re...not happy stories.”
“They’re a part of you,” Clark says simply.
He says that like it’s a good thing, like his scars are something more than a testimony to his sins, more than a sign that he will never win.
It is so like Clark to love someone who isn’t deserving of it; to bring the burdens of another person onto himself without a thought.
Though Bruce will never voice these thoughts, Clark can see them clear in his eyes, in the little self-deprecating smiles, and Clark will never give up making Bruce see that he is good enough, and always has been.
***
dare to dance? (Prompt - Dancing; DCU)
Jason's smirk is a dare, and he holds out his hand like a challenge, but Bruce won’t give him the satisfaction of folding. He takes the offered hand with a smile, but it’s not a Bruce Wayne smile – not a goofy grin, but a sharp quirk of his mouth; a smile that is just Bruce.
They’re both used to ignoring the disapproving, gossiping public, so they don’t even hear the fragments of whispers (“his son,” “flaunting it”, always was a trouble maker”).
None of it matters.
Jason used to make him smile, make him laugh when nobody else could, and when Jason whispers in his ear about how Bruce was smart not to dance with the faux-redhead wearing a garish shade of pink (“She looks like a fish in a cardigan, B.”), Bruce remembers what that feels like.
It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time, and it’s not exactly the same – tinged with regret, tainted by grief – but he’s just glad that it’s back.
That Jason’s home again.
Bruce murmurs back that the brunette he had danced with instead greatly resembled a parrot, squawking and all, and Jason chuckles.
(“You never did have the greatest taste in women, Bruce.”)
It’s not how Bruce imagined their reconciliation beginning, but he can’t complain.
***
Vengeance (Prompt - Dominance; The Walking Dead)
It’s the little things that make Rick dominate whatever room he’s in. The way he stands, tall and strong, despite the missing hand. The way he speaks without fear, having seen too much already. The hardened, determined look in his eyes.
Andrea stays in Alexandria because that’s where she’s needed, and though she worries about the others – she can’t help that; after all, there is always something to worry about – she knows that she has to be there. Andrea doesn’t mind at all that Rick is the leader and she’s the sharpshooter behind the lines. They are both good at what they do.
Whether it was circumstance, nature, or a little bit of both, it’s clear that Rick is a leader, and Andrea is happy with that.
When they return, she’s up in the tower, and she knows immediately that something’s wrong. She waits only long enough to ensure that nobody is following them, that it’s safe, and rushes down as fast as she can.
They can barely talk about it. Maggie is completely torn apart, and Sophia has just shut down.
For once, Rick looks almost defeated – but Andrea knows him too well for that. Glenn is gone. Not just one of their own, but one of the first, from the campsite, and Andrea can see it in his eyes.
That look in his eyes, one which Andrea has seen more than once, and in the direst situations.
It was there after Dale was taken by the cannibals; when they hunted for the monsters who returned him, dying.
When they avenged their friend, someone they loved.
It’s that look that makes Andrea truly aware of how much he can dominate a room without even trying; that look lets her know when Rick is out for blood. Out for revenge.
***
Lost (Prompt - Beach; Marvel 616)
They find him on the sandless shore of Utpoia. Logan will never forget how his eyes were so dull and blank; the knowledge that he might have seen them bright and alive once more will never leave him.
Now Kurt is gone, and Logan's stranded. He left a part of himself on those rocks at Utopia that day, and the waves washed it away.
They burn him. The words of everyone spoken are sincere and true, but they still sound so hollow to Logan, and a part of him dies out with the embers of the fire.
Logan knows that despite what he says, and despite what happened afterward, Hope wasn’t worth it.
Nothing was worth losing Kurt.
Time passes, and he goes on, but Logan never recovers what he lost that day.
And then the Age of Apocalypse taunts him with what everything he wants, dangles it in front of him and snatches it back. It takes away the daughter he never got to have, makes him see yet again the woman he could never touch, and brings him back the man he lost.
Except it’s not his Kurt.
There’s something different in his eyes, something that’s always there, reminding him of what a dark world has done to the best man that Logan has ever known.
Not-his-Kurt goes home with them. It throws Logan, because not-his-Kurt is fixated on revenge, but he still manages to fall into that familiar routine, and then—
He’ll remind Logan that he’s not his friend. He’ll tell him not to call him elf; he’ll make a careless, callous remark; he’ll whip out one of his swords and swing it with cruel precision.
But still, sometimes Logan will reach out to touch, open his mouth to call an affectionate nickname, and every time he has to consciously force himself to stop.
And then the elf – because that’s how Logan will always remember Kurt; whether he call himself Wagner or Darkholme – gives his little speech about protecting human life, and Logan can’t help but smile.
They’ve both loved and lost – Kurt won’t say it, but Logan can tell. And Logan just keeps on losing, because he might not get along with everyone in their X-Force, but nothing ties people together more than life and death, and suddenly Warren’s gone, and Betsy’s gone, and Fantomex is gone—
Maybe Betsy’s right; this is the worst part of himself, and he’ll never get back what he lost that day on Utopia, when he buried his best friend, but maybe it’s not too late to save it.
To save what little of a family that he has left with X-Force, because nothing’s worth losing that again.