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crack_van2007-06-18 10:34 am
rubynye.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-06-18 10:34 am
All Other Fetters by Glossolalia (NC-17)
Fandom: DC COMICS
Characters/Pairing[s]: Bruce/Selina (Batman/Catwoman, and other guises)
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glossing
Author Website: http://www.exitseraphim.net/glossings/
Why this must be read:
One of the fun aspects of alternate universes is seeing what remains the same, what is essential to the nature of the characters and their interactions when the settings or the plots change. The effect of these six amazing takes on Bruce/Selina is to build up a richly detailed 3-D image of their relationship, as it can be, as it has been, as it ever is. Also, did I mention each of these makes an awesome story of itself, richly textured and downright satisfying? There’s so much to praise about this story, but I’d rather you readglossing's prose than my essay.
PS: The Letatlin!
He made his second visit to her apartment complex. A black shadow against the single window in the room, and she rose from the bed without waking Keren and Hahlia to press her hand against the cold glass.
"Why don't you come inside?" she asked lowly.
He looked upwards, to the roof, to the sky. She heard his reply in his expression as surely as he'd spoken: "Why don't you come out?"
In addition to the sewers, the Batman travelled on an old revolutionary contraption, the Letatlin. A sort of bicycle for the air, its wings tattered and patched, it folded away into a schoolboy's satchel when not in use.
More than anything else, it was the Letatlin that let Selina trust him, however provisionally. She blamed this trust on nostalgia -- when she was younger, when Lenin still lived, when the future hovered just before her upturned face, the skies above the city had been crowded with these vehicles. Comrades of all ages flew prone, faces turned to the horizon, beatifically aloft.
She leaned out the window and he drew upwards, one arm under her shoulders, the wings flapping wheezily above them.
Having set her down on the roof, the Batman paced a slight distance away. "Have you decided to fulfill my request?"
Selina crossed her arms and refused to shiver. He could very well be one of Roslov's agents, sent to test her.
"Well?" He turned on his heel, his greatcoat flying in a wide arc around his calves.
"I have --" She unhooked her fingers from their grip on her arms and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Reservations. The leader, he's -- beloved. He's done so much, and the people --"
The Batman nearly snarled, closing the distance between them with a single step. His gloved hands closed on her shoulders and Selina prepared herself to fight free.
But the touch became, almost instantly, gentle, his thumbs working slow circles at the base of her throat.
"When the people worship a strong-man, we call it fascism."
She inclined her head. He was right, of course. Only fear kept her from agreeing aloud. To live in fear, however, was hardly what October should have come to mean.
"Your violence," she said finally, thinking of the leaflets that had appeared in all the main avenues overnight, the fireworks display that accompanied them, his bombs that never killed anyone but high-level Party officials. "It isn't destructive, is it?"
"Shock-effects to wake the comatose," he said.
This close, she could smell the sweat that permeated his costume. He probably *slept* in the thing, like all avid revolutionaries, like the children she'd lived with during the civil war, fighting zealously on quarter-rations, every battle a brick in the edifice of the future.
Nostalgia again, and Selina found herself smiling ruefully up at him.
'All other fetters': Five (or Six) Orgasms, Some or All of Which Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne Almost Certainly Shared, Somewhere, In Some Guise or Other
Characters/Pairing[s]: Bruce/Selina (Batman/Catwoman, and other guises)
Author on LJ:
glossingAuthor Website: http://www.exitseraphim.net/glossings/
Why this must be read:
One of the fun aspects of alternate universes is seeing what remains the same, what is essential to the nature of the characters and their interactions when the settings or the plots change. The effect of these six amazing takes on Bruce/Selina is to build up a richly detailed 3-D image of their relationship, as it can be, as it has been, as it ever is. Also, did I mention each of these makes an awesome story of itself, richly textured and downright satisfying? There’s so much to praise about this story, but I’d rather you read
glossing's prose than my essay. PS: The Letatlin!
He made his second visit to her apartment complex. A black shadow against the single window in the room, and she rose from the bed without waking Keren and Hahlia to press her hand against the cold glass.
"Why don't you come inside?" she asked lowly.
He looked upwards, to the roof, to the sky. She heard his reply in his expression as surely as he'd spoken: "Why don't you come out?"
In addition to the sewers, the Batman travelled on an old revolutionary contraption, the Letatlin. A sort of bicycle for the air, its wings tattered and patched, it folded away into a schoolboy's satchel when not in use.
More than anything else, it was the Letatlin that let Selina trust him, however provisionally. She blamed this trust on nostalgia -- when she was younger, when Lenin still lived, when the future hovered just before her upturned face, the skies above the city had been crowded with these vehicles. Comrades of all ages flew prone, faces turned to the horizon, beatifically aloft.
She leaned out the window and he drew upwards, one arm under her shoulders, the wings flapping wheezily above them.
Having set her down on the roof, the Batman paced a slight distance away. "Have you decided to fulfill my request?"
Selina crossed her arms and refused to shiver. He could very well be one of Roslov's agents, sent to test her.
"Well?" He turned on his heel, his greatcoat flying in a wide arc around his calves.
"I have --" She unhooked her fingers from their grip on her arms and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Reservations. The leader, he's -- beloved. He's done so much, and the people --"
The Batman nearly snarled, closing the distance between them with a single step. His gloved hands closed on her shoulders and Selina prepared herself to fight free.
But the touch became, almost instantly, gentle, his thumbs working slow circles at the base of her throat.
"When the people worship a strong-man, we call it fascism."
She inclined her head. He was right, of course. Only fear kept her from agreeing aloud. To live in fear, however, was hardly what October should have come to mean.
"Your violence," she said finally, thinking of the leaflets that had appeared in all the main avenues overnight, the fireworks display that accompanied them, his bombs that never killed anyone but high-level Party officials. "It isn't destructive, is it?"
"Shock-effects to wake the comatose," he said.
This close, she could smell the sweat that permeated his costume. He probably *slept* in the thing, like all avid revolutionaries, like the children she'd lived with during the civil war, fighting zealously on quarter-rations, every battle a brick in the edifice of the future.
Nostalgia again, and Selina found herself smiling ruefully up at him.
'All other fetters': Five (or Six) Orgasms, Some or All of Which Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne Almost Certainly Shared, Somewhere, In Some Guise or Other