Fractions and Fractures
Oh my sweet god, I’m not dead. DX I am really sorry for vanishing for so long. Um…have some mini-fics? >.> These are comment fills of varying lengths brought to you by my sappiness and a random prompt generator on the internet. Just as a side note: I got prompted to write porn like 10 times on that thing. It was hysterical, like my own personal kinkmeme.
Anyways, the only rule I put for myself was that these all have to be, if not outright happy, at least sweet. So, basically, enjoy my sap. Enjoy it, for there is a lot of it.
I’m Not Sorry
They both stared at each other, frozen by shock and astonishment at what Rorschach had just done. Daniel’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. He touched his fingertips to his lips, his mouth still open and wet. Rorschach shuddered.
“Sorry, Daniel.” He managed to force the words out through a rapidly closing throat. Daniel’s eyes grew sharp and bright and now must be the time when Daniel threw him out, cast him away because how could he ever-
“I’m not.” Daniel said and stepped forward to kiss Rorschach back.
Never Again
Daniel’s laugh was loud and ringing as it echoed through the ship. They were both covered in blood that was neither theirs, nor was it human. “Man,” He laughed, “I am never following you into a slaughterhouse. Ever. Again.”
“A Broken Window”
They both stood, motionless, in the living room. Dan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a grin on his face.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, buddy,” Dan looked at him, eyes gleaming and amused behind his glasses, “But sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”
Rorschach shrugged, stepping around the pool of broken glass and made his way to the kitchen. “Maybe you shouldn’t have locked your basement door. I can kick down the front door next time, if you want.”
Hiding in the Dark
Nite Owl’s cape snapped out behind him as he rounded a corner, the alleys branching out before him as he rolled the shadows under his feet. His brown eyes, usually soft, were narrowed sharply under the tinted goggles, the world cast into the grainy green-white of night-vision. He crouched in the dark, his head tilted, listening to the writhing night-chaos of the city.
Then, he grinned, his teeth glinting in a predatory, crescent-moon smile. Silent in spite of the bulk of his costume, the bulk of his muscle, he launched himself over the dumpster, his cape flying out behind him, raptorial and damning-
The shadows reached up for him and in swift movements, Nite Owl found himself on his back, breath rushing out of his lungs. He blinked rapidly through his goggles and laughed. “Found you,” He grinned, breathless.
“Hurm.” Rorschach responded, reaching down to haul his partner to his feet, “That’s only half of the work.”
“You’re telling me,” Dan grinned, accepting the gloved hand, “But I’m getting better.”
“Black, White, and Red All Over”
“Aw, come on, Rorschach...”
“I’m not going to encourage this, Daniel.”
“Encourage what? I’m not doing anything!”
“I won’t do it.”
“Come on, Rorschach, just once. This one time.”
“No. Don’t really care how bored you are. Focus on crime, not on terrible sense of humor.”
“Oh, I have a terrible sense of humor. Right. And what crime? There is no crime tonight. It’s completely quiet out there. Now please?”
“…Fine. Go ahead.”
“Okay, okay. So. What’s brown and sticky?”
“…Daniel what the--”
“A stick! Ha ha, you get it? Because it’s brown an-- ow! What the heck was that for?”
“That… was a terrible joke.”
Thing’s I’ll Never Say
“Appreciated your support in there, Daniel.” Rorschach’s voice rumbled low in his throat, his hands in his pockets. “Though I don’t think you needed to be so… forceful.”
Daniel made a pssh noise in the back of his throat. An angry hiss through his teeth, “Oh, screw that. There was no call for Ozymandias to say things like that. I mean, yeah, it was only implied, but that almost makes it worse--”
“Daniel.” Rorschach interrupted him, with something like amusement, “Don’t care if Ozymandias thinks I’m crazy. His opinion doesn’t matter.”
Daniel sputtered, arms flailing in indignation, “That’s not the point! He doesn’t have any right to call you crazy. Nobody can call you crazy but--” He cut himself off violently, aware of what he was saying.
Rorschach turned to look at him. “Nobody can call me crazy but you?” He watched Daniel flail about for a moment, trying to recover before having mercy on him. “Henh. Then I suppose nobody can call you a ridiculous, overly sentimental, excitable ornithophile but me.” He turned to look at Daniel, who had gone completely slackjawed. He smirked, “Don’t worry, Daniel. Would never say that to you.”
Sore Loser
“Come on, man. Pay up. I won.” Dan rolled his eyes, extending an expectant hand towards his partner, who was pointedly not paying attention.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t bet. It’s immoral. Leads to degradation, moral degeneracy--”
“You’re just being an ass,” Dan interrupted, lopsided grin on his face, “Because I won. And you can’t stand it when I win. Now pay up.”
Rorschach stared at Daniel. Daniel stared back, still grinning triumphantly. It was a very punchable grin. Everything about Daniel at that moment was punchable. Rorschach sighed irritably and reached into his pocket.
Rorschach slapped the candy bar into Dan’s palm. He grinned and pocketed it with a flourish. Rorschach rolled his eyes under the mask, and crossed his arms stiffly, hoping his disapproval was obvious to his insufferable partner.
Dan laughed and nudged Rorschach’s shoulder with his own. “Rorschach,” Dan grinned, “You lose like a five year old loses.”
“Would be very interested in breaking your arm, Daniel.”
The Smell of Wet Asphalt
They stand together, backlit by the streetlamps and the flashing strobe of police blue and red. They know how they must look: proud, impressive, something a little larger than life. Nite Owl glances at Rorschach from beneath his tinted goggles and grins. Rorschach is standing straight, a soldier at attention. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders that denotes the same thrill that Nite Owl feels, looking down at their city, their people. It’s beginning to rain, but they don’t feel it as they turn and disappear into the night, the guardians of the City that Never Sleeps.
The First Touch
The first time Dan ever touched Rorschach, it was a hand on the shoulder, and he got punched in the face for his troubles. The second time, Rorschach was a little more forgiving. Now, they touch far more than Rorschach feels is entirely necessary, but he can’t bring himself to do anything about it.
-
A/N: Sorry for the wait and the deadness you guys. >.> But I'm back now, and I will hopefully jump right back into fandom! XD This journal might also see some original work as well. Yeah... sorry XP Good to be back <3
Anyways, the only rule I put for myself was that these all have to be, if not outright happy, at least sweet. So, basically, enjoy my sap. Enjoy it, for there is a lot of it.
I’m Not Sorry
They both stared at each other, frozen by shock and astonishment at what Rorschach had just done. Daniel’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. He touched his fingertips to his lips, his mouth still open and wet. Rorschach shuddered.
“Sorry, Daniel.” He managed to force the words out through a rapidly closing throat. Daniel’s eyes grew sharp and bright and now must be the time when Daniel threw him out, cast him away because how could he ever-
“I’m not.” Daniel said and stepped forward to kiss Rorschach back.
Never Again
Daniel’s laugh was loud and ringing as it echoed through the ship. They were both covered in blood that was neither theirs, nor was it human. “Man,” He laughed, “I am never following you into a slaughterhouse. Ever. Again.”
“A Broken Window”
They both stood, motionless, in the living room. Dan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a grin on his face.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, buddy,” Dan looked at him, eyes gleaming and amused behind his glasses, “But sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”
Rorschach shrugged, stepping around the pool of broken glass and made his way to the kitchen. “Maybe you shouldn’t have locked your basement door. I can kick down the front door next time, if you want.”
Hiding in the Dark
Nite Owl’s cape snapped out behind him as he rounded a corner, the alleys branching out before him as he rolled the shadows under his feet. His brown eyes, usually soft, were narrowed sharply under the tinted goggles, the world cast into the grainy green-white of night-vision. He crouched in the dark, his head tilted, listening to the writhing night-chaos of the city.
Then, he grinned, his teeth glinting in a predatory, crescent-moon smile. Silent in spite of the bulk of his costume, the bulk of his muscle, he launched himself over the dumpster, his cape flying out behind him, raptorial and damning-
The shadows reached up for him and in swift movements, Nite Owl found himself on his back, breath rushing out of his lungs. He blinked rapidly through his goggles and laughed. “Found you,” He grinned, breathless.
“Hurm.” Rorschach responded, reaching down to haul his partner to his feet, “That’s only half of the work.”
“You’re telling me,” Dan grinned, accepting the gloved hand, “But I’m getting better.”
“Black, White, and Red All Over”
“Aw, come on, Rorschach...”
“I’m not going to encourage this, Daniel.”
“Encourage what? I’m not doing anything!”
“I won’t do it.”
“Come on, Rorschach, just once. This one time.”
“No. Don’t really care how bored you are. Focus on crime, not on terrible sense of humor.”
“Oh, I have a terrible sense of humor. Right. And what crime? There is no crime tonight. It’s completely quiet out there. Now please?”
“…Fine. Go ahead.”
“Okay, okay. So. What’s brown and sticky?”
“…Daniel what the--”
“A stick! Ha ha, you get it? Because it’s brown an-- ow! What the heck was that for?”
“That… was a terrible joke.”
Thing’s I’ll Never Say
“Appreciated your support in there, Daniel.” Rorschach’s voice rumbled low in his throat, his hands in his pockets. “Though I don’t think you needed to be so… forceful.”
Daniel made a pssh noise in the back of his throat. An angry hiss through his teeth, “Oh, screw that. There was no call for Ozymandias to say things like that. I mean, yeah, it was only implied, but that almost makes it worse--”
“Daniel.” Rorschach interrupted him, with something like amusement, “Don’t care if Ozymandias thinks I’m crazy. His opinion doesn’t matter.”
Daniel sputtered, arms flailing in indignation, “That’s not the point! He doesn’t have any right to call you crazy. Nobody can call you crazy but--” He cut himself off violently, aware of what he was saying.
Rorschach turned to look at him. “Nobody can call me crazy but you?” He watched Daniel flail about for a moment, trying to recover before having mercy on him. “Henh. Then I suppose nobody can call you a ridiculous, overly sentimental, excitable ornithophile but me.” He turned to look at Daniel, who had gone completely slackjawed. He smirked, “Don’t worry, Daniel. Would never say that to you.”
Sore Loser
“Come on, man. Pay up. I won.” Dan rolled his eyes, extending an expectant hand towards his partner, who was pointedly not paying attention.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t bet. It’s immoral. Leads to degradation, moral degeneracy--”
“You’re just being an ass,” Dan interrupted, lopsided grin on his face, “Because I won. And you can’t stand it when I win. Now pay up.”
Rorschach stared at Daniel. Daniel stared back, still grinning triumphantly. It was a very punchable grin. Everything about Daniel at that moment was punchable. Rorschach sighed irritably and reached into his pocket.
Rorschach slapped the candy bar into Dan’s palm. He grinned and pocketed it with a flourish. Rorschach rolled his eyes under the mask, and crossed his arms stiffly, hoping his disapproval was obvious to his insufferable partner.
Dan laughed and nudged Rorschach’s shoulder with his own. “Rorschach,” Dan grinned, “You lose like a five year old loses.”
“Would be very interested in breaking your arm, Daniel.”
The Smell of Wet Asphalt
They stand together, backlit by the streetlamps and the flashing strobe of police blue and red. They know how they must look: proud, impressive, something a little larger than life. Nite Owl glances at Rorschach from beneath his tinted goggles and grins. Rorschach is standing straight, a soldier at attention. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders that denotes the same thrill that Nite Owl feels, looking down at their city, their people. It’s beginning to rain, but they don’t feel it as they turn and disappear into the night, the guardians of the City that Never Sleeps.
The First Touch
The first time Dan ever touched Rorschach, it was a hand on the shoulder, and he got punched in the face for his troubles. The second time, Rorschach was a little more forgiving. Now, they touch far more than Rorschach feels is entirely necessary, but he can’t bring himself to do anything about it.
-
A/N: Sorry for the wait and the deadness you guys. >.> But I'm back now, and I will hopefully jump right back into fandom! XD This journal might also see some original work as well. Yeah... sorry XP Good to be back <3