Ai's Creative Insanity

Bleach Fic: Two Sides Part 2

Wed, 29 May 2013 01:29:58 GMT

Title: Two Sides, Part 2
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo, Shirosaki, Urahara, More
Warnings: Foul Language, Suggestive Behaviour
Rating: R
Words: 3106
Summery: It's all Miyuri's fault, but now Ichigo has to deal with his new reality

Shiro is pissed. No, he's fucking livid! How DARE Ichigo suggest he'd do something to the twins? Yes, he'd happily turn Ichigo into a bloody pulp, and those friends of his are definitely fair game. Then there is that father of his, who is practically begging to be hit. But those girls... no. Just no. Shiro wouldn't hurt them, he just wouldn't. It would be wrong for a reason he cannot name, but which he doesn't doubt in the least.

( Read more... )

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Two Sides: Part 1

Sun, 05 May 2013 18:09:24 GMT

Title: Two Sides, Part 1
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo, Shirosaki, Urahara, More
Warnings: Foul Language, Suggestive Behaviour
Rating: R
Words: 2243
Summery: It's all Miyuri's fault, but now Ichigo has to deal with his new reality.

A/N: I called Ichigo's hollow Shirosaki. I've seen him called a lot of things (and in the series he has no name) but I went with Shiro because it's recognizable and less confusing then other options. Thank you Dragonbat2004 for the lovely beta!

He remembers a very concerned, tattooed face leaning over him. Renji.

He remembers a second set of hands working feverishly on the straps binding him to the table while cursing quietly. Uryū.

He remembers looking over his left shoulder as he lay there, realizing that there were three men fighting. Before his eyes, Byakuya's Senbonzakura Kageyoshi skewered Mayuri's Bankai Konjiki Ashisogi Jizō . He remembers thinking there really wasn't enough room in such a small space to contain the two.

( Read more... )

End of Part One

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Ficlet: No Right

Sun, 05 May 2013 17:35:51 GMT

Title: No Right
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo, others mentioned
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG-13
Words: 530
Summery: Set after the Winter War, Ichigo is bereft of his powers and his sense of worth.

It's been weeks since it all ended. Since Aizen's defeat. Since Ichigo returned to the life of a normal teenage boy. Even his ability to see ghosts was gone. And life was empty in the way he'd once dreamed. But now that it is, he hates it with a seething passion.

He knows. He can feel them. The powers that made him a shinigami are gone—in the sense they are out of reach. But they are still there, just buried deep and dormant. If he thinks about it and really tries, he can feel the sleeping energies. Zangetsu and his Hollow. One and the same, yet not.

What Zangetsu told him before teaching the Final Getsuga Tensho had been in error, though not through any attempt to mislead him. When the spirit of his sword melded with his Hollow, it informed him that they had always been one. And at the time, he'd thought he was seeing the finally whole version of his sword's spiritual self; that he'd somehow mentally split the spirit, rejecting the part that frightened him so.

Now he knows better. He's had a lot of time to think and to review the many events in his life. Now he understands. The Hollow, the remorseless creature he opened himself to under Urahara's training, IS part of Zangetsu, because it's part of Ichigo. That which binds sword to wielder is also what allows the Hollow to touch them both, to infect them. No, it’s not an infection; it's not a contagion. It's something he chose. Even if Urahara did trick him by not telling him what they would be doing until after the fact, Ichigo made the choice when he said he'd do whatever it took to get his powers back. He doesn't regret that choice, or any of the events that followed. He definitely doesn't regret helping his friends. Or the memory of how they stood with him.

He could ask for Urahara's assistance again. The former shinigami turned shop keeper and black marketeer probably has an idea on how to wake the spirits sleeping within him. The sleeping spirits that are himself. His soul. All he has to do is ask. Maybe he will.

Or maybe he'll let the spirits sleep a little longer. They have earned their rest, even if it means Ichigo feels like a useless shell of his former self. The city is safe enough. Chad, Uryuu, Orihime and even his own sister, Karin—who denied her own spiritual abilities for so many years—have it covered, leaving him to watch from the side lines.

It's tearing him apart, the desire to get it back, to be powerful enough to be useful once more. To protect. But could he? He knows the spirits are there, but could he reach them? After the sacrifice to defeat Aizin, is there enough left? Or are they shells of their former selves as much as Ichigo? Does he dare find out?

Ichigo isn't a coward, but he's not sure if he has the right to disturb their sleep. They gave him, Karakura and the Soul Society everything.

Let them rest.

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Drabble: Normalcy is...

Sun, 05 May 2013 17:26:13 GMT

Title: Normalcy is...
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Lots, Ichigo-centric
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Words: 178
Summery: Ichigo has lunch with his friends.

Sitting on the roof for lunch is just what they did. It didn't matter what else was happening, what kind of reality threatening events are going on. If Ichigo and his friends are at school, they would eat together in their claimed spot.

It's a comfortable routine, a little bit of normality in his otherwise weird-ass life. Not that he's complaining. Not after everything with the Fullbrings and getting his powers back. He will never complain again about not being normal. For him, normal is destroying hollows, performing konso to send souls to the Soul Society and protecting his town; his loved ones. So is sitting on the roof listening to Mizuiro talk about his latest adventures with his older girlfriend and lady acquaintances as Keigo flails madly.

The faintest hint of a smile curves the teenager lips out of their perpetual frown as he watches the familiar display. Yeah, the substitute shinigami decides as he leans back against the chain link fence behind him, he can definitely live with this version of normal.

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Ficlet: Understanding

Sun, 05 May 2013 17:21:20 GMT

Title: Understanding
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo/Grimmjow
Warnings: Slashy implications
Rating: R
Words: 552
Summery: Ichigo thinks on his relationship with Grimmjow.

If they knew, they wouldn't understand.

Well, Chad might. The large teen often understands Ichigo better then he does himself. And he has no doubt that Chad would support him. But they rest...

No, maybe he's wrong. It's not that they wouldn't understand. It's that they wouldn't approve. Renji would probably yell at him. Uryuu would lecture him. Or maybe just make his glasses glint at him. Urahara would have something to say, no doubt and probably be the one guess exactly what was going on. Orihime would give him a worried look and keep asking if he was sure he was doing the right thing.

He knows he is. He knows.

Rukia would lose her shit and try to beat some sense into him. of that he has no doubt and it's all the more reason to make sure she doesn't find out. He maybe a war hero with staggering abilities, but when faced with the petite shinigami none of that matters. He smiles, thinking how she could reach him even in his darkest times. So why was it that he'd turned to another?

"Hey! Stop daydreaming, Strawberry," Grimmjow bellows at him as he fires another cero toward the teen. The hollowfied youth bats it aside easily with Zangetsu and realizes that it only happened because his sparring partner had held onto it a few seconds extra before throwing it.

This is why it's not Rukia. Rukia does know him and there is a bond between them, but at the end of the day, she can't be what he needs.

Grimmjow on the other hand...

The Espada launches himself at Ichigo, his hands curled to bring the claws of the resurrección form to bare. He's going for the throat, snarling as he closes the distance. His hollow self begins to laugh in that eerie voice. It likes Grimmjow. It likes him a lot. It likes the fact that he can draw blood and the arrancar will do the same, that it's a struggle for dominance every time them meet.

Ichigo likes it too. Grimmjow is honest with him. Nothing is hidden. He will call him on his stupidity, never biting his tongue, never second guessing what it is that Ichigo needs to hear; what he can handle. Somehow he just always knows. That is why he's in Huaco Mundo, sparring with his one time enemy.

There is a flurry of motion as the Espada tries to get around the Ichigo's blade. Finally he bounces back and lets out three ceros in quick succession. None of them are more then half strength, given how long they've been fighting, but they don't have to be. They force Ichigo down in the air, disorient him enough that Grimmjow can get behind him, grabbing his sword arm and binding it to his chest. At the same time, sharp teeth bite down on the junction of Ichigo's neck and shoulder. He goes limp, letting the arrancar support him as they head down toward the sand dunes.

A bite to the neck is the agreed upon signal. The first to accomplish that is the winner of the fight. They put it in place because otherwise they'd be too banged up for different kinds of fun. The kind of fun his friends really wouldn't understand at all.

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Ficlet: When Tomorrow Comes

Sun, 05 May 2013 17:15:23 GMT

Title: When Tomorrow Comes
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo, Renji
Warnings: Foul Language
Rating: PG-15?
Words: 717
Summery: Renji is drunk and it's Ichigo's job to get him home.

Seireitei. That place in the Soul Society where the Shinigami live. And work. And apparently stumble back to after getting drunk. Really drunk. What the hell had Renji been thinking? Letting Matsumoto talk him into a drinking contest. Everyone knows the busty woman can out drink any three men.

Since Ichigo had been visiting at the time of the impromptu celebration (and he still has no idea what was actually being celebrated), he'd found himself dragged along. And then made fun of when the server gave him fruit juice rather than sake.

The teen had huffed and been glad enough when his friends found other targets for their mirth. He almost felt bad for Shuuhei, except for his he really didn't. Not when it really is true that the guy is all work and no play. And definitely not when he saw the way the Lieutenant’s eyes lit up at the arrival of his captain. Kensei then proceeded to glare everyone else into submission or something similar, before HE started teasing his subordinate about being a workaholic.

And so it went for much of the night. The teasing was never malicious, but Ichigo was happier when it wasn't focused on him. Toward the ends of things, the teen had been thinking that he should take off, but Rukia informed him that he'd have to take care of Renji. When Ichigo spluttered a protest the petite Shinigami had smacked him over the head a couple of times, shouting about the duty of friends. There had been nothing for it but to capitulate.

So that's why Ichigo is currently stumbling along as he helps the very drunk Renji toward the quarters of the 6th. It would be amusing how the redheaded Lieutenant is gesturing and mumbling, if the bastard wasn't so damned heavy! Ichigo groans as he makes his way toward the man's designated quarters and hopes to kami that the jerk hadn't left it a sty again. He really doesn't want to break an ankle trying to get the asshole to bed.

But as soon as he slides the door open, Ichigo facefaults. “Sty” is far too mild a term. Heaving a heartfelt sigh, the teen shuffles forward, keeping his sandal clad feet on the ground and pushing various crap before him as he makes his way toward the futon he can see in the corner. Thankfully it's not far. He just has to get there and then his duty to his friend is done.

Half way to his goal, the teen almost does trip as he stubs his toe on something best left unidentified. His eyes bug out as he bites down on his lip to keep from crying out in a very unmanly fashion. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself, not easy with Renji still trying (and failing) to walk. Screw it! He runs the last few steps and dumps the redhead's ass on his futon in an unceremonious heap. He hoped the asshole gets a kink in his neck!

Ichigo pulls himself straight, stretching out his back when a strong hand wraps around his ankle and pulls. With a startled screech, the boy finds himself falling down onto the futon next to the inebriated Lieutenant. Before he can do anything, the teen feels surprisingly strong arms wrapped about his middle and pulling him in close. Renji is mumbling something about Captain Kuchiki and then starts slobbering on Ichigo's neck in what might have been intended as a kiss but wasn't even close.

“Hey let go, you asshole!” The teen howls, utterly mortified at his friend's behaviour; his arms are flailing as best they can, given that Renji has him in a vice grip.

He pulls back his leg, about to heel kick the jerk in his thigh and give him the charley horse of a lifetime, when a very loud snore sounds in his ear. Renji passed out? But his hold on Ichigo hasn't relented in the least! Which means the teen is still very much trapped, damnit all!

Sighing, Ichigo settles down. At least it's a comfortable enough position and his head is on the pillow. But oh man, Renji is soooo going to pay for this in the morning. The teen begins plotting his revenge even as his eyes drift closed.

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Ficcing stuff and Squeeing

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 17:07:31 GMT

So I now have FOUR fics done. 2 smut Bleach Fics (which is part of a series). 1 is the first part of a character study for Ichigo and Shirosaki. That one MIGHT turn into Yaoi, I'm really not sure. Shiro would LOVE it to go there, demanding beast. I also have the next part of the Do-Over verse good to go.

The Problem....and you knew there would be one, is each time I read through one before posting, I then start working on the NEXT part. Yes, I am ADD. Anyhow I'm going try and get a couple posted this weekend.

And in other news..... SQUEEE!!!!!

For those on my flist that don't read the Bleach manga....DO! Seriously, it's sooo much fun. And it has PLOT, and characterization and....SQUEE!!!

The current events are all flashbacks as we finally learn more about Ichigo's um.... existence? See, his parents being who and what they are have resulted in a hybrid child (well, three actually, if the genetics hold). Then we have the tantalizing hints about what one of the main baddies may have had a hand in as far as Ichigo's birth and possibly other things.

Here is one BIG advantage Manga has over western comics--in my experience -and that is consistency With Manga there is often only one writer, so only one person has to know what has happened previously and what IS to happen. Western comics on the other hand is a collaborative effort where writers seem to constantly go through a revolving door, requiring new people to learn years of characterization, events and history...if they bother to. Some obviously don't.

So yes, I'm firmly on-board the manga train. And I would love to invite others to join me :)

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Jumping Ship for Manga

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 21:38:26 GMT

So I promised an explanation.

And it'll probably help to start from the beginning. That beginning is actually 18 months ago when DC decided to relaunch many of their titles. When that was announced I was willing to wait and see how things played out and sadly I wasn't impressed. Then the #0 issues came out and I CRIED. Oh gods how I cried as my beloved characters where mangled left, right and center. Bruce was safe, as it's pretty hard to mess up such an established character.

But all the robins (past and present) were apparently fair game and holy shit! Yeah, I cried. And then I just didn't care any more. So when I heard about Damian's Death (I haven't been reading INC) my reaction was "meh". The character I knew and enjoyed didn't survive the relaunch, instead he'd been turned in a nasty little shit that abuses/kills animals that no one but his dad wanted to be around. Thus why care when the character dies?

It's just one more example of an on going problem I have with DC comics. Honestly, I haven't read anything since October. Part of me thinks I should catch up, and part of me is going "why bother, it'll probably just piss me off."

When I realized that wasn't reading comics and really needed something, I started looking at manga sites, then I started reading some series I'd been recommended. That's when I discovered Bleach (points to icon) and it was love. There is an anime too and I do recommend both, but I'm talking about the manga because it's what's replaced my DC comics. I still love the Batfamily and I'm not going to stop ficcing the characters, however my involvement IS going to be fanfic (reading and writing).

Now, about Bleach. Why do I enjoy it so much? Because it's everything that I used to get form DC comics and don't now. It's interesting character in a neat setting, dealing with engaging issues both internal as well as external. And....it's VERY slashable :P Okay, so that's really secondary. The big things is I look forward to each new chapter of the manga. I LOVE the story telling. I'm not only engaged, I'm excited and after all the "meh" feelings about DC, I'm really enjoying that.

So there you have it. I would love to meet others in the Bleach fandom and I would enjoy making converts should anyone reading this be inclined to give it a chance. It's always nice to have someone to squee with :)

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not dead yet

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 14:30:45 GMT

I know I haven't been around. Yes I suck. Sorry, sorry.

The thing is, I also haven't been idle. I have several fics that I've been sitting on because I'm wanting to give myself some lead time once I start posting. I know I'm bad for getting distracted and not finisheing a series. After all, it only took me HOW many years to finish Forced Awareness?

In any event I DO have two beta'd bleach fics, and I'm sending the next part of Do-Over verse to the beta. So something will be up soon.

Until then, expect a rant about DC comics and an explanation of why I've made the switch to manga.

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Escape (Musing_Way Prompt)

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 01:07:45 GMT

Title: Escape
Fandom: Batman (Comics)
Characters: Jason Todd, Batman, Joker
Word Count: 893
Warnings: Character Death
Disclaimer: Not mine, mores the pity.
A/N: Mirrors the events of Mad Dash

Jason will be the first to acknowledge that he's been through a lot of shit. Even before he died. And after, well that was a fucking gong show. It has taken a long time for him to get his head back together, and root out all the shit others had whispered to him, not to mention the shit he’s told himself. It has taken even longer to come to terms with who he was, relative to who others wanted him to be.

He's justifiably proud of the progress he's made, but there are still some large stumbling blocks in his way. So when the Arkham escape alarm sounded earlier--via one of the batsystems he hacked--he didn't think, he just went. Menacing a frazzled guard got him an answer to who broke out and had a 20 minute head start. And once he knew who he was looking for, things should have been relatively easy, but the fucking Clown is so goddamn unpredictable.

So why was he being predictable now? Back at the dilapidated tenement building Jason has claimed as his own, he watches the readouts on the computer and a pattern to the Joker's movements emerges. Damn it all!

Getting up so hard that his chair topples over backwards, Jason sprints down the stairs to the sub-basement he’s converted into a garage and grabs his bike. There is a squeal of rubber on cement and he's out though the old subway tunnel before the smell of his peel out can register.

Amusement Mile. That dump Dick bought and has worked so fucking hard to turn around. He’s even been successful. Which means it'll be full of people, ripe for whatever depravity the Joker has planned. With a sinking heart, Jason knows he can't get there fast enough, but he's got to try.

He never had a lot of dealings with the Joker as Robin, not before the last time. When the Clown had been around, that was mostly Bruce's thing. If Jason was involved, he was taking care of the henchmen. But honestly, he never paid attention to where the Clown was based or how he choose his hideouts. Such is no longer the case. One of the first things Jason did upon his return to Gotham was to compile a complete history of the fucker and his habits. So Jason is well aware that the fun-house at Amusement Mile has been used on more than a few occasions. And the bodies Joker left in his wake all suggest that it’s where he’s heading now.

The bike isn't a subtle vehicle to be taking though a theme park, not that Jason cares. Especially not when people are screaming and panicking. Faced with the human stampede, he unceremoniously dumps the bike on its side and pushes his way to the edge of the swarming mass. Free to move, mostly, he makes his way around the side of the funhouse. Why go through the maze when he can just use the access hatches and alcoves? He memorized those the first time he found the Clown here.

It takes far too fucking long, even though he knows it's the fastest way to the center stage. For all that he's not a rookie, his heart is hammering in his chest. It's the Clown. He's had his chances to kill the fucker before and, for one reason or another, he hasn't done it. Can he do it this time? Can he end the nightmare?

And it is a nightmare, once more, as he comes out at his destination, as he sees the pleading woman and the child. And the knife. He knows Joker is talking, he even knows that Bruce is there. None of it matters. It's not about revenge. It's not about making the world a better, safer place. It's about one terrified little girl. He doesn't say a word as he pulls out his gun and squeezes the trigger of one of the glocks.

The crack of it seems deafening, and yet, oddly removed. Everything slows as the bullet hits and the Clown falls backwards. He can see the hands losing their grip on the child, the girl screaming as a few droplets of blood spray her right cheek. Then she's running to her mom. Good girl, good girl.

Time resumes as he looks at the spreading pool of blood seeping from under Joker's head on the stage. The gun is still out. It has to be. Nothing says the psycho is alone here. Over his shoulder, he yells to Bruce, “Get them out of here!” He doesn't wait; he goes about the room, clearing the corners, looking for—there. Someone could have taken that access hatch. Or there—three doors that lead back into the fun-house. Too many damned choices. He picks one and goes. He has to go. The Joker is dead. Finally. And Bruce saw it.

He could have picked the wrong way, but he doesn't run into Harley, or any henchmen. He doesn't run into anyone. Though he can hear the sirens when he exits the fun-house. Gordon's people are on their way. Good enough. It has to be good enough.

The gun stays in hand until he makes his way back to his bike, picking it up from where he'd let it fall. It's time to go.

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Mad Dash (Musing_Way prompt)

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 01:03:27 GMT

Title: Mad Dash
Fandom: Batman (Comics)
Characters: Batman, Joker, Jason
Word Count: 1023
Warnings: Character Death
Disclaimer: Not mine, mores the pity.
A/N: follows the ficlet Then and Now.

Dick is over in Europe on a case. Tim is with his Titans, doing something in a place that seems to be somewhere in Antarctica. Damian is out with a broken leg. The list of people he can call on for back up is vanishingly small. Still, there is nothing for it. The alarm has sounded, and Batman must answer. There are too many dangerous psychotics in Arkham; even one of them escaping is unacceptable. He has enough deaths on his conscience, from all the other times Joker, or Two-Face or someone else made a break for freedom and promptly resumed their murderous ways.

The car speeds toward the facility, easily passing the few cop cars also making their way to the sanitarium. Thankfully, when he pulls up, there is no smoke, no gaping holes in the walls. Well, that’s something at least.

No sooner does the car stop before the main door, than he is out and in the shadows, heading for Arkham's office. He needs to know who he is looking for.

Even in the well-lit hallway, no one takes notice of his dark shape; not one of the few moving around, for all the world looking rathre unconcerned. On the inside, everything is quiet. No barked orders, no rushing personnel. This isn't at all what he expected. Can it be a false alarm?

Letting himself into the office of one Jeremiah Arkham, the Bat faces the man he hopes has the answer.

When the bespectacled man in the white lab coat looks up, he isn't the least bit surprised to see his visitor. “Ah. You're here,” comes his blasé greeting.

“Who is it?” Batman growls, getting right to the point. He doesn't have time for games, and in his experience, the facility director is just as likely to engage in them as the inmates. How the man has retained his job is beyond the vigilante's understanding.

“Joker. Just him. We were able to lock everything down before anyone else could follow him into the sewers.” There should have been a note of pride in his statement but instead, there is only resignation.

A revolving door. All of his Robins have made that observation at one time or another, and Bruce can't disagree, but it is how things are. Fine, he'll track down the Joker yet again, and bring him back, once more playing his part in the melodrama. If he is very lucky, he will be able to manage it before any innocents lose their lives.

When Arkham glances at his papers again, the Bat takes the opportunity to leave unseen.

***

The trail is, unfortunately, easy to follow. There are bodies. So many bodies. But the Joker doesn't stay in one place long enough. Bruce isn't sure what he's after. Something. …Something of his? So far, the Clown has been crashing his own haunts and killing whoever he finds there. Some of the dead are former henchmen. Others are just random unfortunates in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Oh no. One of the places the Joker used to call “home” is Amusement Mile. Which is no longer derelict, thanks to Dick. It's been a bustling hub of entertainment for two months now.

Of course, it's only one possibility, but it does follow the directional pattern. If the psychopath stays on course. There is no guarantee of that happening. Joker can be very random. But Bruce has to do something to try and get ahead of him.

The Batmobile flies along the streets of the city, still quite busy for 10pm on a Thursday night. It doesn't matter. He deftly weaves through the traffic, heading for what he hopes and fears is the Clown's next destination. He has to be right.

When he gets closer to his objective he has to park. The funhouse isn't near any of the fire lanes. He has to get out here and make his way on foot. His spine itches, not with the feeling of someone behind him, but with the knowledge that no matter what, this will be bad. The Bat is too much of a realist to hope that no one else will be hurt before he can subdue the clown.

The scream is the first sign that his fears are well founded. As people shriek and flee in a mindless stampede, Batman gives up all pretences of subtlety and dashes the rest of the way to the entrance of the funhouse.

The darkness, the mirrors, the monsters popping out, he’s expected all of it. At worst it's an annoying distraction that cost him precious seconds, as he focuses on finding his way to the center, where the Clown no doubt awaits.

When he finally reaches the center with its small stage, his heart drops. There are three dead bodies in the standing room before the stage. Above the carnage is the Joker, a cruel hand about the neck of a toddler as the psychopath carries on a one-sided conversation with the hysterical mother. Something about time having passed and the woman--Sandy--having been busy, he isn't sure and frankly it doesn't matter.

Before Batman can so much as pull a batarang, the Clown slowly swivels his head toward the vigilante in a creepy fashion, reminiscent of a b-rate horror movie. Those eyes fall on Batman and seemed to shine with an insane unholy glee.

“Oh good, you're finally here, Bats!” the maniac cackles. “Maybe YOU have the answers I'm looking for. You being a detective type and all.” He twirls his other hand carelessly. In it is a straight razor with a wickedly sharp edge. The motion of his hands results in the blade’s nicking the child's cheek. “Ooops! Hahahahaha!”

“Joker!” Batman roars. He's about to do something, take action somehow, when the world shatters with the sound of a gunshot.

The Clown doesn't make a sound as he topples over backwards, a hole where his left eye had been. Blood begins to pool under the fallen man's skull matting the hideous green hair before spreading beyond.

Batman looks over, stunned. There, before a small access alcove, stands Jason, one of his guns in hand.

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ARRGGGGGHH!!!!!! AKA why I can't stand gender swap fics

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 03:37:20 GMT

Or gender ambiguous fics for that matter. Now there ARE exceptions by people I know are good writers, but for the most part the following sadly holds true.

When a normally male character is made "female" or even hermaphroditic, they all of a sudden become ineffectually nit-wits! It's as if they develop hips/boobs/uterus they must then also be shrieking ninnies! What the hell?! Worse yet, when normally female character is made male or at least hermaphroditic, they lament about how they aren't strong enough and aren't man enough, because apparently if you have a dick, you can beat up everyone right, left and center.

Seriously, what eh bloody hell, people!?

I'm currently reading one fanfic that has a nromally male character BE a male character until his 16th birthday and THEN he becomes some kind of child baring hymphrodite with "woimanly curves" to boot. Now granted it IS supposed to take place in AU Victorian Egland where attitudes towards woman (and by women themselves) is very different from what we know in this day any age why on EARTH would a health, active male boy suddenly into a blushing, fainting idiot because he can now squeeze out kids?! Never mind that he was an effective fighter and accomplished horsemen and RAISED as such for the last ten years of his life. No no, now that he's in a "feminine" role all of that is utterly forgotten and he's the damsel in distress!

I"m just....I'm flabbergasted. Even more so when it's obvious that the majority of this authors ARE female. I'm sitting here wondering if they hate themselves. Or if they honestly think women are just born victims.

Please, for the love of gods people, put DOWN the harliquine reomances and go out and MEET people. Get some life experience in this diverse world of ours. There are any number of ways to make changes in gender/attitudes/personality plausible and damned interesting because gender isn't a black and white issue. Not by a long shot. Trying to make it such just turns your poor character into utterly uninteresting cardboard cut-outs.

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Musing Way Drabble: Bruce

Sat, 26 Jan 2013 00:45:05 GMT

Another one written for musing_way :)

Title: Then And Now
Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman. Mention of Jason Todd.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angsty Bat
Word Count: 377
Summery: Bruce thinks about his actions, then and now.

He hates thinking about it. Thinking about it means acknowledging the mess that he made of things. And it was his fault. He wasn't going to blame Jason for being what he is, what he was molded into. He'd done some of that molding himself, no matter how unintentionally.

But if he looks… If he takes the time to remember what the boy had been like then, he can see where a lot of Jason's anger came from. It was always there. Bruce thought he'd given the boy a way to focus that rage, to channel it into something productive. He'd not only told himself that, he’d honestly believed it. Then and now.

Belief is not enough. It's a place to start, but it's not enough. And when Jason needed him, Bruce failed him. Both times. And he doesn't know how to rebuild those long-burned bridges. He has no idea how to reach the son he once had. Or is it that he's just been fooling himself? Had he ever really been much of anything to Jason? A teacher, of that much he is sure, but has he been anything else?

The vigilante sighs as he sits in the Cave, the oversized computer chair surrounding his dark form as his gaze slides to the case. That case. A memorial. When Jason returned, he decided to leave it instead of taking it down. What it represents is still very real, but it has nothing to do with what he's told anyone else. It's not a reminder of the boy who wore that uniform. It's a reminder of Bruce's inadequacy. Inadequacy that has cost so many lives.

He wants to change. He wants to do better, to make a real difference rather than just mouthing the words. But to do that, Bruce would have to do the one things that terrifies him more than anything else. He'd have to talk to Jason.

Can he be strong enough to do that?

A flashing alert on the computer screen grabs his attention. A breakout at Arkham. Of course it is. Other thoughts are relegated to the back of his mind, as Batman pulls his cowl on and heads to the car, ready to deal with the threat to his city.

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Musing Way Drabble

Sat, 26 Jan 2013 00:41:43 GMT

This was done for the Then and Now prompt over at musing-way on Dreamwidth.

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, mention of Tim Drake and Dick Grayson
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 402
Summery: Jason is the Robin that DOESN'T flail.

Flailing seems to be one of those Robin things that Jason just never got the hang of. He might have raged and stormed around as Robin, but he never ever “flailed”.

Dick does, and given some of the old footage Jason’s gotten his hands on, there was a lot of flailing involved in his daily activities, as a matter of course. How the guy had the energy for all that shit, he will never know. And it's not like the first Robin has grown out of it or anything.

Then there is Tim. Jason likes Tim; the kid is nice, as well as pragmatic, so they tend to get along—even if they don't exactly agree on a lot of shit. The fact that Tim spends so much time up in his head, makes his flailing rather amusing, since it comes off as a wee bit random, even though it's not. It's only happened once in Jason's presence, and that was because he'd gotten his hand on a beta release consumer testing copy for the new Triskelion computer game. When the kid had finally stopped jumping around and flapping his arms, he'd started gushing about the graphics it was supposed to have. It was a display that Jason teased the kid about mercilessly, but honestly, it was kind of awesome to see someone so excited over one of his gifts.

Then there is Damian. It's so fucking easy to make the Spore flail. It's almost too easy, and thus lacking the crucial sporting element. Still, it’s fun just the same, mostly because it results in the kid trying to kill him and then Jason can justifiably beat his self-important little ass.

Right now, the kid is doing his best to knee-cap Jason for daring to laugh at his school project: a crane constructed out of Popsicle sticks with a little working winch. It was perfect in every detail. So when Jason commented that it was “passable,” the kid naturally exploded and it was on.

Of course, while the Spore is flailing he's not really thinking. He can get by with instinct guiding that highly-trained (if miniscule) body, but Jason's got his own training, and kicking the kid in the ass as he barrelled by was just way to tempting.

All in all, flailing is a good thing, as far as Jason is concerned. After all, having another advantage never hurts.

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Checking In

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 23:52:14 GMT

Hey all, it's been a while. I am still ficcing (just finished Rip in Soul 4, but need to let it sit before I give it another go through) but I thought I should let folks know: I have a new fandom.

No, I'm not abandoning the Batfamily (though I haven't read any comics in months) but I've been bitten by the Bleach bug. For those that don't knwo what Bleahc is, it's an Anime about a bunch of kids that get caught up all kinds of spiritual stuff. It's a lot of fun and entirely slashable :P

I've not written anything for Bleach yet for a couple of reasons. 1) I want to catch up on the manga. I still have 250+ more chapters to go ^_^;; and 2) I really want to get some more work done on the stories I'm already working on. Like Rip in Soul and Do-Over. I also want to get back to the sequel for A Better Choice.

But I was wondering if anyone here is also part of the Bleach inanity? and how woudl peoel feel abotu some Bleach-esque elements showing up in Do-Over verse?

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Fic: The Do-Over (part 1)

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 04:53:33 GMT

Title: The Do-Over (Part 1)
Fandom: Batman Comics (AU)
Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU/Gen
Warnings: Jason likes to swear
Word Count: 6004
Summary: Jason wakes up thinking he is 15. According to the date, he should be 19. Oh and Magic sucks!

A/N: Thank you to the fabulous dragonbat2006 for her wonderful beta!

Jason isn't a morning person; he never has been, except when he’s had to be. And right now, he has to be, because things feel very wrong. The boy sits bolt upright in bed, blinking furiously, trying to get his eyes to focus... A baby blue room? Other then the colour it's pretty generic, just a bedroom like any other. But not like his. He's not in the Manor. Where the fuck is he?

He looks down and does a double take. What the fuck is he WEARING?!
( Read more... )

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Squee Worthiness

Sun, 25 Nov 2012 20:04:28 GMT

So last week I had to get my flu shot. Company policy. If I refused it they could deny me shifts if there was a influenza outbreak and wouldn't pay me any sick days. Damn.

However, I do not react well to the flu shot. It's not an egg allergy or anything. But after getting it my immune system TANKS. So I've been dealing a fever for the last three days (it seems to be going down *crosses fingers*). And in that time I've been giving myself a happy with reading Yaoi scanilations over on mangafox.me, which is a lovely site.

Anyhow in my search for bishi-goodness, I found a Manwa (Korean Manga) that contained the following helpful announcement ion how to property read the story.

SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!!

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Just a heads up

Sun, 25 Nov 2012 02:13:37 GMT

I'm REALLY not meaning to spam anyone's reading page. But I want to move my fics over to this account from LiveJournal before they do even more stupid things over there and I lose my stuff.

If anyone has any ideas about how to NOT have my posts show up on folk's reading pages, I'm all ears.

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Found Pic

Thu, 01 Nov 2012 14:25:44 GMT

This was sent to me by Dragonbat2006 a couple of nights ago and I thought I'd share. It's by the artist mmcalpharho over on DeviantArt. I love this one because it's just sooooo true :)

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Collared

Thu, 01 Nov 2012 05:40:45 GMT

Title: Collared
Author: AiyokuSama
Characters: Jason Todd, Batman, unidentified-OC
Rating: R, to be on the safe side.
Warnings: Sexy games alluded too, BAD language.
Word count: 671
Summery: Too much to drink is to blame, right?

A/N: me_ya_ri said she wanted a drabble based on my avatar, so here it is, crack and all.

Oh Jesus H. Fucking CHRIST! What the fuck had he been drinking?! Those are the first thoughts that go through his head when Jason returns to consciousness. At least, he thinks he's conscious, but it's hard to tell, when he hasn't worked up the courage to open his eyes. Seeing as he has stabbing pains lancing into his grey matter without adding light to the mix, it seems safest to keep his eyes shut.

Except that he has no idea where he is and... Huh. His hands wrists and ankles are free, but there is something snug around his neck. Eyes still closed he groans (which is a HUGE mistake) and reaches up a hand, blindly feeling whatever it is. Broad, leather, a buckle...and a large D-ring attached to the front. Why the fuck is he wearing a COLLAR?

“Oooooh, you're awake,” a husky, but obviously feminine, voice purrs at him. It's not close, but it has to be in the same room, right? The mattress dips to the right and he feels gentle finger tips trace the edge of the collar. Then it's sharp fingernails against the weathered skin.

Jason cracks an eye open and is immensely thankful that the only illumination in the room comes from a few lit candles. His pounding head definitely appreciates it, while other parts of his body are appreciating the woman pouting at him.

“You have really bad manners, Boyo,” the sultry brunette scolds, as she moves to straddle Jason's unfortunately jean-clad legs.

The room is dark enough that he can't tell what colour her eyes are. He knows that he met her at the underground bar—that much he remembers—but he doesn't remember her being in such a hot little bondage get up. That corset doesn't show off much, except for how it shows off a lot of perfectly tantalizing things. Jason licks his lips.

“Passing out on a girl before she gets to have her fun is downright unforgivable,” the Domme, continues, those lovely nails gently teasing his collar bone. “So, of course, I'm going to have to punish you,” she promises, with that incredible voice that makes him want to sit up and beg. But when he tries the first part, a firm hand pushes him back to the bed, causing his head to pound annoyingly.

Still he smiles, imagining where this is going. “And what do you have in mind?” he asks, his lips quirking hopefully.

Leaning in close, she smiles at him. “Close your eyes and find out,” the woman breathes. He really can't help but do so, imagining what might possibly be coming next. There is a “snick” sound, and he cracks one eye open and sees that there is now a leash attached to his collar. Jason hastily closes his eye again when he sees the woman frowning at him. “You're a very bad boy,” is what he hears before there is a sharp, small pain in the side of his neck.

“Ow!” Jason hisses. He can't help but open his eyes again, and the first thing he notices is that his vision is starting to swim. The fuck?! Has he been drugged? Beyond what he did to himself, that is.

The Domme gets off his legs and stands on the ground beside the bed, the end of the leash still in hand. She turns to look over her shoulder at something that Jason can't see. “He's all yours. And we're square now, right?”

“Yes,” says a dark shape that detaches itself from the shadows. It takes Jason a moment to make sense of what he's seeing—which is mess of liquid squiggles—and then his eyes widen. The woman is handing the leash to... to...

“No! Let go of me you @#$%&! I don't wanna go home! Let the @#$% go of me!” Jason wails, as Batman starts tugging on the leash. This can't possibly be happening to him.

“Tough,” is the only reply, as he's dragged off of the bed. Oh man, he's sooooooo fucked.

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Wed, 31 Oct 2012 20:31:25 GMT

So to start off this new blog, does anyone want to give me a fic prompt. DC comics is mostly my thing but I'm willing to try my hand at new things.

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Blog Rebirth

Wed, 31 Oct 2012 13:53:29 GMT

So I've had this blog for a while and if you read back, I made a couple abortive attempts to have it be an exercise journal. Well THAT is now happening over on Sparkpeople.com...sorta. It's still a work in progress. If you haven't seen the site, I highly recommend visiting it. It's not a diet site, it's a lifestyle site and it has some amazing tools, all for free. Should you choose to join, please put Vigdisdotter as your referrer :P Okay, enough shameless promotions, back to the subject of this blog.

This is going to be another Fic journal, since LJ has a serious case of the stupids. I'll be moving my fics over here, just in case as well as posting new things.

Right now I'm adding people to my circle and trying to reacquaint myself with how things function here. does anyone have any suggestions or ideas about anything, really. Actually are there any good comms for customizing style sheets? That's one thing I really want to do. DC related comms are something else I'm interested in and MAYBE some DC character games. Maybe. I DID make two character DWs but I think those will go on the back burner for now. Oh and people, feel free to suggest folks you think I should have in my Circle :)

This blog is set to Discretion Advised because it WILL have adult themes, swearing and the occasional NC-17 fic.

Alright, that's it for now. I'm off to explore DW some more.

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Wednesday

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 05:37:08 GMT

What is it about the SECOND day after working out that everything HURTS o.o On Monday I did the weights and FUCK my chest, arms and neck HURT !

But I dutifully went back and did it all again tonight. I'm STILL stiff and sore of course. And this to shall pass. Still, I was dissapointed that I wasn't able to do more then I did. I know, I know, I need to work up to it and the more I work the more rest/food my body needs. But damn, I just want it all to happen NOW.

Onward and upward.

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Tuesday

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 05:32:05 GMT

As a way to keep myself going, I'm going to try and do daily updates.

Tonight was a jogging night. My usual route is 7km. My run time was hardly impressive at 47min 10sec. But I'll see about improving that one.

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Starting over...AGAIN!

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 15:02:07 GMT

It kind of had to happen, even though I told myself it wouldn't. With the holidays, family and all the damned food, diet and exercise went out the window. And today I finally made it back to the gym.

Mondays are weight training followed by Zumba dancing. And yes, it kicked my ass, but in a good way not in the puke-your-guts-out way. I was impressed that I was able to mostly pick up where I left off (I'm slower on the weights then I used to be). But the big success is when I weighed in. I haven't weighed myself since a week before Christmas. And given the amount of excess I indulged in I was sure that I'd be looking at an extra 8lbs minimum (which is the average for holiday weight gain). I was pleasantly surprised to find that I'd only put on TWO pounds. I can live with this because now that I'm back in the swing of things, it's NOT going to be hard to get rid of it.

Onward!

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