Request fics
Jun. 19th, 2006 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sylph_ficsHuh. I did write them all, eventually.... here we go.
Bats/Diana to Jesse's Girl, from Clark's POV
//I shouldn't be like this... Bruce is my friend, I should be happy for him,// Clark told himself sternly, glaring at his mirror-self as he finished washing his face.. but even that caused the bitter emotions to well up. //What is it she doesn't see in me (that she sees in him)?// He wondered for the millionth time since this had started. //I've made her laugh, she flirted right back with me... I'm the one that's her better match, why is she with him instead?//
He couldn't even claim it had come as a surprise when the Princess and his best friend began "keeping company" as his ma would have put it. They hadn't tried to hide it--but of course, there had also been no announcement. Batman would never allow such a thing, but in the small circle of their most intimate companions they had made no attempt to hide.. and that very fact ate at Clark's soul.
A number of things accompanied that bitterness... like the way Diana's soflty glowing sapphire-blue eyes followed Batman constantly. And how on some of the Watchtower shifts he'd unwillingly overheard their low voices exchange couple's words--as much as Bruce allowed himself to do so in the cowl... and worst yet, on one bad morning he'd searched the Tower with his vision for Diana, intending to ask for her help--and had found her curled nude in Bruce's arms. Knowing they were intimate, that his best friend shared the bed and held the heart of the only woman that could physically match or challenge him... Knowing she harnessed her strength to love him... it was torture. He'd held his tongue too long, not wanting to pressure her or insult her... and Bruce--bold, brash, human Bruce had taken advantage of the fact. //Why, why couldn't I have...// and the worst thought of all, one unworthy of him and his long friendship with Bruce... //what would it take to make her mine?//
Prayer for the Dying
The Masterharper leaned back in his blue wherhide chair, Zair curled on his thigh, and with the sound of the waves on the beach outside, his mind drifted back over the years. Back to the days when he was young in the Harper Hall, when he never knew if his day would be interrupted by the bugle of a bronze and the bellow of his name in a carrying baritone voice... the days when his best friend still lived. They had been soo different, separated by birth and skill and distance, often unable to understand what the other was going through in their day to day lives, but they had been devoted to each other.
//Oh, F'lon... how you would have loved to see these days. The Weyrs restored to prominence, and your F'lar the Weyrleader of all Pern... old friend, I miss you so.// He remembered his old friend as a light, strong baritone alive with laughter and fury and Simanith's wind-tunnel echo of his voice, as the unsettling amber eyes that could dance with joy or burn with unbridled passions at the flick of a dragon's wing and the close-cropped dark curls he'd passed to his sons--his brazen, world-saving heroic sons. Oh, there was such joy in what they had made, he and F'lar and Lessa and so many others... but for him the joy had always been tempered by grief that F'lon had been taken too early to see dragonfire bring them safely through Thread again.
//I am grown old, F'lon, and time itself stands between me and you...// No one had ever known how deeply he'd grieved for the arrogant, cocksure Weyrleader... or how often he had missed the strength of the arms that had held him through his grief. It had always been F'lon that was there, F'lon that had so often known how to bring him back from the depths of his pain--and then suddenly he wasn't. That was the one song Robinton had never been able to write. Too many would have recognized the subject, too many would have known how he'd loved the bronze rider... so it sat bridled on his tongue until he tasted nothing but ash when he tried to call words to his lips...
A sudden croon and nuzzle at his hand brought Robinton back to reality, back from the ache in his soul that was the grief of his friend's loss to the noises of Piemur and Jaxom and Sharra outside… "Ah... life goes on, doesn't it Zair? Rather or not we wish it..." and he rose to see what his young friends were up to.
Bind the stars
The harper watched his Lord Holder from a distance--the only way that anyone could speak to the once-happy Alessan. It seemed so very, very long ago since he'd seen any expression but resolve on his Lord's face, seen any trace of love or compassion or anything but that terrible, implacable expression. It had not, truly, been all that long. Moreta had not been gone that long, but it seemed forever since Alessan had donned the mask he now wore...
It was as though she had taken him with her, he thought, not for the first time. All that was left was the mask he wore to hide the pain, it seemed. Love had taken so very much from him that he was afraid to allow it any entry again, despite his espousal to Nerilka--and it still startled him that their Rill was Lady Nerilka of the Fort Holde Horde. Rill tried, it was obvious, but Alessan was unmoved, hiding pain (hiding from desire) with all of his strength. Love had the power to bind the stars, to pull the tides, it was said in the Harper Hall... but it struggled in vain to catch Alessan again--he had loved and lost too much already, it seemed, for him to try again.
It saddened the harper to watch Rill struggle against the wall of that indifference, try to reach him through it... His Lord was afraid to love again, afraid to risk failure of love, of Ruatha again, and Tuero knew not how to help either of them...
It Wasn't Me!
"Oh, god, Rob, Cassie's gonna kill me!" A blur skidded into the computer lab and hid behind the desk, crouched down against the wall. After a moment, it resolved into the leather-jacket clad, earring-ed form of Superboy. What he was doing here on a Tuesday, though...
Tim closed his eyes behind his mask. Any time those were the first words out of SB's mouth, world war three (the super-powered version) was about to erupt. Cassie's long-held crush was soo far from news. "What did you do?" //This time?//
"I forgot I gave her a key to the apartment..." That was a truly miserable voice.
"And?"
"And she has really, really horrible timing!" It was almost a wail, and Robin blinked. After a moment, "Keep talking, SB."
"I forgot I gave her a key, and I had a girl up... and she absolutely caught me banging her..."
//Oh, shit.// Robin shrugged slightly. "You could always say it wasn't you."
"Rob, she's not going to fall for that... I didn't know she was there, and it... wasn't exactly quick. I mean, the counter," //remind me never to eat anything he cooks// "the sofa.... hell, the shower! Telling her it wasn't me is not going to work!"
"What's the other option? If you're right, she's going to be... difficult for months. Just convince her it wasn't you. You leant the apartment to someone, or something. Not so hard to buy..."
"I can't believe you're telling me to lie to her!"
Robin just looked at him steadily. It took a few long minutes, but SB finally dropped his eyes. "Okay. Yes, I can. You know I can't lie for crap!"
Robin did have to admit that was true, but really, it was better than the option of having Wonder-chick be... difficult for the next few months. "So, I'll help you." //Why am I doing this? Helping him (win her back) calm her down is the last thing I ought to do...//
Bats/Diana to Jesse's Girl, from Clark's POV
//I shouldn't be like this... Bruce is my friend, I should be happy for him,// Clark told himself sternly, glaring at his mirror-self as he finished washing his face.. but even that caused the bitter emotions to well up. //What is it she doesn't see in me (that she sees in him)?// He wondered for the millionth time since this had started. //I've made her laugh, she flirted right back with me... I'm the one that's her better match, why is she with him instead?//
He couldn't even claim it had come as a surprise when the Princess and his best friend began "keeping company" as his ma would have put it. They hadn't tried to hide it--but of course, there had also been no announcement. Batman would never allow such a thing, but in the small circle of their most intimate companions they had made no attempt to hide.. and that very fact ate at Clark's soul.
A number of things accompanied that bitterness... like the way Diana's soflty glowing sapphire-blue eyes followed Batman constantly. And how on some of the Watchtower shifts he'd unwillingly overheard their low voices exchange couple's words--as much as Bruce allowed himself to do so in the cowl... and worst yet, on one bad morning he'd searched the Tower with his vision for Diana, intending to ask for her help--and had found her curled nude in Bruce's arms. Knowing they were intimate, that his best friend shared the bed and held the heart of the only woman that could physically match or challenge him... Knowing she harnessed her strength to love him... it was torture. He'd held his tongue too long, not wanting to pressure her or insult her... and Bruce--bold, brash, human Bruce had taken advantage of the fact. //Why, why couldn't I have...// and the worst thought of all, one unworthy of him and his long friendship with Bruce... //what would it take to make her mine?//
Prayer for the Dying
The Masterharper leaned back in his blue wherhide chair, Zair curled on his thigh, and with the sound of the waves on the beach outside, his mind drifted back over the years. Back to the days when he was young in the Harper Hall, when he never knew if his day would be interrupted by the bugle of a bronze and the bellow of his name in a carrying baritone voice... the days when his best friend still lived. They had been soo different, separated by birth and skill and distance, often unable to understand what the other was going through in their day to day lives, but they had been devoted to each other.
//Oh, F'lon... how you would have loved to see these days. The Weyrs restored to prominence, and your F'lar the Weyrleader of all Pern... old friend, I miss you so.// He remembered his old friend as a light, strong baritone alive with laughter and fury and Simanith's wind-tunnel echo of his voice, as the unsettling amber eyes that could dance with joy or burn with unbridled passions at the flick of a dragon's wing and the close-cropped dark curls he'd passed to his sons--his brazen, world-saving heroic sons. Oh, there was such joy in what they had made, he and F'lar and Lessa and so many others... but for him the joy had always been tempered by grief that F'lon had been taken too early to see dragonfire bring them safely through Thread again.
//I am grown old, F'lon, and time itself stands between me and you...// No one had ever known how deeply he'd grieved for the arrogant, cocksure Weyrleader... or how often he had missed the strength of the arms that had held him through his grief. It had always been F'lon that was there, F'lon that had so often known how to bring him back from the depths of his pain--and then suddenly he wasn't. That was the one song Robinton had never been able to write. Too many would have recognized the subject, too many would have known how he'd loved the bronze rider... so it sat bridled on his tongue until he tasted nothing but ash when he tried to call words to his lips...
A sudden croon and nuzzle at his hand brought Robinton back to reality, back from the ache in his soul that was the grief of his friend's loss to the noises of Piemur and Jaxom and Sharra outside… "Ah... life goes on, doesn't it Zair? Rather or not we wish it..." and he rose to see what his young friends were up to.
Bind the stars
The harper watched his Lord Holder from a distance--the only way that anyone could speak to the once-happy Alessan. It seemed so very, very long ago since he'd seen any expression but resolve on his Lord's face, seen any trace of love or compassion or anything but that terrible, implacable expression. It had not, truly, been all that long. Moreta had not been gone that long, but it seemed forever since Alessan had donned the mask he now wore...
It was as though she had taken him with her, he thought, not for the first time. All that was left was the mask he wore to hide the pain, it seemed. Love had taken so very much from him that he was afraid to allow it any entry again, despite his espousal to Nerilka--and it still startled him that their Rill was Lady Nerilka of the Fort Holde Horde. Rill tried, it was obvious, but Alessan was unmoved, hiding pain (hiding from desire) with all of his strength. Love had the power to bind the stars, to pull the tides, it was said in the Harper Hall... but it struggled in vain to catch Alessan again--he had loved and lost too much already, it seemed, for him to try again.
It saddened the harper to watch Rill struggle against the wall of that indifference, try to reach him through it... His Lord was afraid to love again, afraid to risk failure of love, of Ruatha again, and Tuero knew not how to help either of them...
It Wasn't Me!
"Oh, god, Rob, Cassie's gonna kill me!" A blur skidded into the computer lab and hid behind the desk, crouched down against the wall. After a moment, it resolved into the leather-jacket clad, earring-ed form of Superboy. What he was doing here on a Tuesday, though...
Tim closed his eyes behind his mask. Any time those were the first words out of SB's mouth, world war three (the super-powered version) was about to erupt. Cassie's long-held crush was soo far from news. "What did you do?" //This time?//
"I forgot I gave her a key to the apartment..." That was a truly miserable voice.
"And?"
"And she has really, really horrible timing!" It was almost a wail, and Robin blinked. After a moment, "Keep talking, SB."
"I forgot I gave her a key, and I had a girl up... and she absolutely caught me banging her..."
//Oh, shit.// Robin shrugged slightly. "You could always say it wasn't you."
"Rob, she's not going to fall for that... I didn't know she was there, and it... wasn't exactly quick. I mean, the counter," //remind me never to eat anything he cooks// "the sofa.... hell, the shower! Telling her it wasn't me is not going to work!"
"What's the other option? If you're right, she's going to be... difficult for months. Just convince her it wasn't you. You leant the apartment to someone, or something. Not so hard to buy..."
"I can't believe you're telling me to lie to her!"
Robin just looked at him steadily. It took a few long minutes, but SB finally dropped his eyes. "Okay. Yes, I can. You know I can't lie for crap!"
Robin did have to admit that was true, but really, it was better than the option of having Wonder-chick be... difficult for the next few months. "So, I'll help you." //Why am I doing this? Helping him (win her back) calm her down is the last thing I ought to do...//
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