Gamora fic, because she was interesting, and dysfunctional relationships between evil parents and their kids are total Lector-bait
I’m doing a school project on fanfiction and I’d really appreciate the help. Once I’ve done the project I’ll use a random number generator to pick ten people and follow and promo them :)
Finishes on 24/01/13.
Characters: Janet Drake and Damian Wayne
Snippet: “Do you know, little boy, what I was when I lived?”
Verse: 200+ Follow Prompts
Warnings: Grudge spirits and implied torture/death
AN: Ah…I wasn’t going to be that direct, but Janet said no. And so she confronts Damian directly. I hope this was to your liking…not quite sure.
Janet. Holy fuck, Janet. I end up incoherent and swearing whenever you write Janet, Wisia. She’s always so perfectly self-confident and monstrous at the same time.
Author’s Note: For Lector. Happy late birthday. This is an AU-ish world? Probably, yeah. A kind of rewriting thingy…
I don’t know what I was thinking.
Pairings: TimRa’s, TimBruce, Ra’sTimBruce
Warnings: Mature and minor sex.
They breed like rabbits, and yet you don’t have time to write them all. Put your lonely Bunnies up for adoption here. Adopt a new one and help it grow into fic. Or art We love art too.
Add the relevant tags, and then see if anyone’s left a bunny that’s calling your name.
It exists, spread the word. the more bunnies the better. and if anyone wants to help me pretty it up just let me know.
Cool. I’ve got to make my list and format it, but oh, are the bunnies going to flow after that.
Word Count: 1,200~
Notes: For L- by the end I thought I might be writing for our current shared story. Which I’m going back to now >_<. And as for the title…. well Merci is French for thanks. Not mercy.
“I saw pale kings and princes too, pale warriors, death-pale were they all. They cried “La belle dame sans merci hath thee in thrall.”
Ra’s. Just- Ra’s. What are you doing?
And Tim. Being passive-aggressive and blowing up Ra’s bases and having the same taste in literature as Ra’s.
Tim is probably not pleased with being the metaphoric princess locked in her tower, but at least the accommodations are nice.
Mind Games Ships are so much fun when both sides are playing.
This is the continuation of Lector’s prompt. The first part can be found here.
And whelp, how is it I can write about 1500 words of pron, but I can barely write 400-500 words for my normal verses/writing?
Anyway, thank Bee for looking this over.
Mmmm. I like this.
Well…I don’t feel like writing any of my own prompts. So, I gave this a try from Lector. I probably should have wrote this in Dick’s point of view, but meh. And no porn…because I can’t write it at the moment.
*rolls* I don’t think it’s that good, but an attempt is better than nothing at all at this point. Sorry for the choppiness.
EDIT: I might try and actually finish this later. The pron anyway.
Wow. This is…wow. Please do try to finish the porn part.
Verse: L’s Lynchpin
Word Count: 700~
Notes: Have I mentioned I’m into cats? >_< Pure crack to be followed by not nice stuff. And, obviously, for my dear sweet, patient, darling L. Yeah >_>
Aww. I just got home from a really awful shift at work, and I have this waiting for me. It saved my night.
Poor Pru, she can’t take her boys anywhere.
A sort of beginning to “Lemon Water”. Seriously, curses, I can’t write anything else now. I’ll finish this up later since I have to get to school. Stupid registration.
There was a jewelry box located underneath Tim’s bed, wrapped in cloth to protect from dust and mites. The jewelry box was made of polished dark wood with a black handle. There were no other ornaments or flourishes to crown the panels, not even an engraving of “Janet Drake” because it once belonged to his mother. Inside the box were tubes of lipsticks, an ivory backed hairbrush, perfume—and strangely, it featured thin delicate looking utensils. Forks, spoons, knives all in a reddish brown color that wasn’t painted on but metal. Unearthly, strange and strong. The box held other feminine articles as well, but the thing that caught Tim’s attention was a silver ring.
And Tim rarely took it out, removed the cloth and opened it. But he opened it now. Slid it out from under his bed, pushed away the fabric and the hinges creaked when Tim cracked the lid just the slightest. He smiled at the box in his hand, smiled at the various items inside. He was going to make momma proud.
Okay, officially scared now. Janet- you were a deeply frightening lady while you were alive, weren’t you?
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