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corkinavoid · 3 months ago

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DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess (pt. 2)

[<- part 1]

"What do you mean-" Jason starts, but the girl is already tapping her ear briefly - and only now does he notice a tiny comm there. Fuck, he should have known.

"Oscar? I changed my mind, I want to claim something," Jazz says easily, and, after a short pause, "A Tecpatl, the one with the owl. No, it's for personal reasons- You don't have to, but alright." She taps her ear again, and Jason can't help but ask:

"Who's Oscar?" He is not jealous. He is just insanely curious and very confused.

"My bodyguard," Jazz rolls her eyes, "At least he thinks he is. I'd say he is more of a secretary."

That doesn't really explain anything. It actually just adds even more questions - what kind of a magic user needs a bodyguard? or a secretary, for that matter? - but Jason keeps them to himself for now. He is... kind of intrigued now. Jazz said 'claim', not 'buy'. Which might be just a weird word choice, but somehow, Jason thinks it was deliberate.

A bald, black-skinned guy in a black suit and sunglasses - which, seriously, how does he even see a thing in here with those on - makes his way through the crowd and stops in front of Jazz, nodding slightly to her.

"Lady Phantom, I understand you want to make an impression, but using your status for personal matters-"

"Did I ask for your opinion, Oscar?" Jazz's voice doesn't change. It's still pleasant and sweet, and she is still smiling, if just a bit, but there's an unmistakable steel edge to her tone now. Jason feels a light shiver run down his spine. He's seen Jazz in a lot of different situations and circumstances; he's seen her get mad at a librarian who banned some controversial books in the public library, and he's seen her skillfully take down an armed robbery in a shop all by herself, and he's even seen her successfully stare down Killer Croc on one occasion.

Yet, he's never seen her like this, with her chin raised up high and radiating authority like she is the most powerful person in the room.

Also, Lady Phantom?..

"No," Oscar admits after a pause and presses his lips together, "But the Council of Ancients will not be pleased."

"Council of Ancients couldn't care less even if I declared war," Jazz brushes the comment off, and Jason's levels of confusion are growing higher and higher with every word they exchange. Oscar sighs and finally complies:

"Very well, then," he breathes out with a sense of surrender, and then turns his head to Jason just slightly, "Is this an urgent matter, or should I go talk to the auctioneer and the sellers?"

Jazz looks to Jason, raising her eyebrows in question. And, technically, it's not that much of a time crunch now since Jason doesn't have to try and sneak through the security or wait for the auction to start officially. But he feels a bit petty. Also, this man was questioning his girlfriend, which is offensive on many levels in Jason's opinion.

So, he nods, "Urgent."

Oscar's face doesn't change one bit, but Jason has plenty of experience with emotionally inept men who look like they are eternally constipated. He can see the traces of exasperation in Oscar's shoulders.

"Follow me, then," he tells them both, and turns around, headed to the back of the auction rooms. There's security there, but Oscar only shows them some kind of a badge, and they step aside, letting the three of them through. As far as Jason knows, no FBI or CIA agents should have that kind of clearance.

Which finally prompts him to ask the most important question as soon as the doors behind them close and it's only them three going through an empty hallway.

"Who are you?" He asks Jazz, who is still keeping her hand on his elbow. The girl hums, not looking at him, and keeps walking after Oscar.

"Jasmine Fenton," she answers, and, yes, he knows that much. He's seen the files Bruce has on her, but at this point, he is not even sure how much of the info in there was actually true.

"You are in the presence of Jasmine Fenton, Lady of the House Phantom, Princess of Infinite Realms and sister to a King," Oscar supplies, and his voice is... a bit petty. Like he knows Jazz didn't want him to say anything, but he still did just because he could.

Jazz huffs and rolls her eyes, "Yes, that, too."

Jason blinks.

He's heard about Infinite Realms. Mostly rumors through the grapevine of Leaguers, but also from Diana personally - he remembers her saying she is glad about having a truce with them. He didn't listen much since she explained it as the Underworld, the Land of the Dead, so he thought she was talking about some mythology shit. Turns out it wasn't.

But there's a more important thing.

"I'm dating a princess," he says to no one in particular as they come to a stop in front of one of the doors.

"Technically, you'll be treated as my consort if you ever decide to visit," Jazz admits, and Jason is officially out of surprised responses. There's only a limited amount of bafflement he can feel in a day, and he has exhausted the resources.

He is a royal consort of the Underworld princess. Sure, why not.

The room they step into after Oscar puts in some code into the lock is filled with boxes, packages, and crates. Jason looks around - sure, he knew all the prettily displayed artifacts back in the auction room were only replicas, but he didn't expect the originals to be literally just stacked in piles in the back room. Yet, here they are.

Oscar looks around the room and confidently makes his way to one of the shelves on the side, quickly going through the labels on the containers.

"Do you have, like, a crown?" Jason asks because he sucks at small talk. Also because he doesn't know what else he is supposed to ask in this kind of situation. Jazz snorts and leans to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not really. Danny has one, and it looks absolutely badass, with flames on top of it, like the ones you would see in cartoons. I have some tiaras and stuff, but they are just jewelry," she explains, and Jason nods sagely. Just jewelry, alright. Seems like he is simply destined to be surrounded by rich people from all sides.

"How about a castle?"

This gets a sigh out of Jazz, "We used Pariah's - that's the previous King - old one for the coronation ceremony, but mostly, it's just for storage. Both Danny and I live on Earth, and Dani, our little sister, travels a lot. So, I do, and I don't at the same time."

"What about-" Jason starts, but he is cut off by Oscar all but shoving a small box in his hands, "Oh. Do I-" he turns to his girlfriend awkwardly, "Do I have to pay you for it or..."

"No, it's from a dead civilization," she raises her head back and shakes it slightly, but after seeing Jason's frown, she elaborates, "I'm the Princess of the Dead. I can officially claim anything that belongs to the dead as mine."

"It's a law that is supposed to resolve any possible conflicts between the denizens of Infinite Realms and the living," Oscar supplies, his voice disapproving. Alright, makes sense why he said it was not for personal matters, then. Not that it's going to stop Jason, though.

"Like, anything?" He punctuates, and Jazz tilts her head, a sly smile on her lips.

"Sure."

"Lady Phantom," Oscar sighs, tired and chastising, but Jason doesn't plan on robbing the auction. At least not robbing it any more than they already did.

He has a different idea.

"Can you ask Batman for the Robin's suit he has in his cave?"

Jazz blinks, and then her smile turns into a full-on grin.

"Of course."

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@akuworld777

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #anger management #jason todd #jasmine fenton #ghost princess jazz #cork writes #cork prompts #ficlet #good!giw #this was all written because i kept listening to Balance:Unlimited soundtrack

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 7 months ago

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ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.

it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.

his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.

batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.

he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.

the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.

“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”

he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.

he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.

his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.

he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.

his nights are full of tossing and turning.

he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.

he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.

couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.

he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.

he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.

couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.

his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.

you were everywhere,

he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.

how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.

he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.

he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.

what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.

the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.

when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.

how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.

you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.

it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.

but yet, you were now nowhere.

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c1g4r3tt3sm0k3 · 4 months ago

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keepthedelta · 2 months ago

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okay it's kinda specific but is there any brocedes fact that is often overlooked but you think that is essential (or perhaps gives a new approach) to the lore?

that's such a good question. i have several, i hope you don't mind

the first one is the "he'll always be my best friend in my heart" quote. i've seen a lot of people use it as a very earnest declaration etc. (or if they believe in the nico is obsessed with lewis shit as a sign of that) but it was actually nico making a joke when he was doing commentary (on the italian comms i think). he was asked a question about lewis and jokingly/sarcastically said "in my heart he'll always be my best friend", and then immediately clarified that it was a joke (maybe recognising the narrative that would be spun around it). i know this seems kind of anti-brocedes but i do think it is essential to the lore that people recognise nico is not a weird as fandom likes to make out. he's absolutely weird, and he's definitely not normal about lewis, but he's not obsessive, and he feels comfortable enough making jokes about them. when you contrast that with lewis who either refuses to say nico's name in conversations where he is the most relevant person (the better teammates than max interview) or brings him up unnecessarily and then panics about it (grill the grid), i think it changes the dynamic of who is yearning, who is "over it", who is winning the idgaf war (it's neither of them but the difference is lewis lost by playing and nico is open enough about giving a fuck that he's not pretending to play). i am biased, but i also think that if you look back at them during their careers, lewis was always weirder about nico than nico was about him, although again, neither of them can truly be described as normal about each other.

then there's nico beating lewis in the 2004 f3 series that they shared. the narrative of brocedes describes it as lewis always beating nico, lewis being the one to win and nico always being slightly behind. and largely this is true. but in 2004 they were both competing in the 2004 f3 european series, albeit for different teams. neither of them won, but nico narrowly beat lewis. now they were in different teams and nico himself has said that some teams had better cars and equipment than others and that made a difference in the end result. but, nico still beat lewis. he had nearly double the number of dnfs/dns (6 to lewis's 3) and triple the number of wins (3 to lewis's 1), finishing highest of all the entrants who eventually made it to f1 (nico himself, lewis, adrian sutil and robert kubica). but nico himself barely seems to remember this. the narrative of lewis always being better, always beating him, is something he seems to have internalised, even though it isn't quite true, or at least, not as true as people make out.

my third bit of lore is that mclaren wanted to sign nico for the 2008 season. following the drama of fernando alonso (affectionate) and spygate, mclaren had an open seat and ron dennis wanted to fill it with nico. he even offered to buy out nico's contract from williams, but frank williams viewed nico as their best hope and refused. the driver that eventually ended up replacing fernando was heikki kovaleinen, nico's gp2 rival and 100% finnish to his 50% (yes nico's national identity crisis does come into this). lewis ended up winning the championship that year. heikki took only 1 victory, and while i think lewis would have beaten nico, i think nico wouldn't have been a doormat for him like heikki, and would have won at least a couple of races, which would have allowed felipe massa and ferrari to succeed. in many ways i think an argument can be made that nico not getting that mclaren seat really helped lewis to win his first championship, in the same way that if lewis hadn't gone to mercedes, nico would have won three, or if nico had stayed, there is a very real possibility that sebastian vettel would have won 2017. their presence and their success dooms the other, and it always has.

my final thing is that they are the most successful teammate pairing in f1 history. it kind of links back to the last one, where the fact that they are each as good as they are hurts the other one, unlike a lewis and valtteri line up or a michael and rubens line up where there is a distinct number one driver and the other one is to be sacrificed for him. but, even though both of those pairs were together for longer (nico and lewis aren't even in the top 5 longest teammate pairings), it takes more than a number 1 number 2 driver lineup to be the most successful. it takes nico and lewis, who are both number 1 drivers (don't come for me on this, nico would have flattened the likes of valtteri, rubens, or mark webber and you know it). although they were only teammates for four years (and one of those was a sebastian vettel/red bull dominance year) they achieved more pole positions, front row lockouts, wins, podiums, and 1-2 finishes than any other pairing in f1 history. they were utterly, utterly dominant, and that's why they hurt each other so badly. they were the dream team, the absolute best f1 could come up with, but they weren't just competing as a team, they were competing against each other, and only one of them could win

#delta help desk #brocedes

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izzystizzys · 4 months ago

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Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.

Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.

And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.

He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.

Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.

“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”

Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”

Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.

Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.

For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.

…not like that.

“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”

“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”

Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.

Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?

“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”

“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.

“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.

“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.

“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.

“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.

#commander fox #count dooku #spinder: space tinder #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #sw tcw fic idea #fox licks his lips at some point and dooku’s eyes flicker down to watch #they share a look of horror #two more vod’e and obi wan have to combine forces to restrain cody #not exactly fake dating but close enough (i apologize)#you ask you receive and that is a threat #how did you even match with him fox screams cody did he infiltrate coruscant????!#fox who is not about to admit that he’s embezzling from the chancellors office to pay for his galaxy wide spinder beskar subscription sweats #they all agree to go home to recover after except for cody that is cody has just promoted dooku to public enemy no 1 #is there a u up? text or not you decide #stone shakes his head forlornly when he hears. the others are laughing too hard #that’ll teach you to scam old men on the holonet stabby says #(it does not the chocolates were too nice)#introducing guard trooper grids #aka grievous’ tiddies #griddies for short sirs she grins at the strategy meeting #or grids for cowards she adds and obi wan gives her a strained smile #anakin refers to her exclusively by full name out of protest #fox wants to bang his head into a wall in frustration #you’ve done enough banging for the day vod says nuisance with a grin #it unleashes cody’s boiling rage anew #there is no resolution to this idk make it a fix it if you want to #or just picture fox continuing to scam dooku for all he’s worth that old man has too much money anyways

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

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Someday We'll Be All That We Need

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I made a new friend so I made that friend a fic. @temeyes <3 -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Other than the shivering, Simon doesn’t so much as twitch in the corner they’re huddled in. She’s cold herself, but nothing feels as terrifying as losing the man wedged in between her thighs, head resting against her chest. The bleeding has stopped though, the bullet wound plugged well enough that him exsanguinating is the least of her worries—it’s the ever-dropping temperature and the broken-down cabin that scares her.

It was thirty degrees Fahrenheit when the mission started; the last reading was ten and dropping. The cabin they’d taken shelter in was worn down, broken windows and missing ceiling allowing streams of frigid winter air and snow to fall in and continue to chill their bones. Simon had sealed his wound and managed to stay awake but with the blood loss he’d suffered and the stress, fatigue had set in, and that’s when she’d found herself curled up in the corner with the emergency blanket from her kit wrapped around his torso, his body wedged up against hers, trying to conserve energy and heat.

The comms had gone down, Simon’s radio busted in a skirmish of hand to hand with an enemy, and she had only managed to get one SOS out before the line cut off. They were alone in the middle of enemy territory, in a temperature-dropping environment, wounded and unable to call for help. Her worst fears were coming alive.

She swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away, and readjusted her grip on Simon, jostling him awake in the process. “Alrigh’, love?” he murmured lowly, tongue lazy and slow; he only called her love when they were alone and serious.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “You?”

“Back’s killin’ me.”

She huffed a laugh. “I bet it is. You’re folded like a pretzel.”

Simon shifted, or tried to, and rested his head on her shoulder. “How long’s it been since I feel asleep?”

“Maybe an hour?” she blinked, looking around the room; snow was beginning to pile up where the holes in the ceiling dropped to the floor. “I haven’t really been paying attention to the time.”

“Hmm.” He breathed into her neck. “I can’t feel my toes.”

Her eyes shifted to his feet, and she let out a breath, a mixture of shock and fear. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” he admitted. “‘s bad, love. Spreading up.”

“Motherfucker,” she laughed in disbelief and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Price heard the SOS. He’s coming, okay? Just…just keep it together until then.”

Simon swallowed thickly; his eyes still shut as he nudged her neck with his mask-covered nose. “Got a safety deposit box back in Manchester,” he muttered. “Key’s in my nightstand back at base.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Got ‘bout five-hundred thousand pounds in’it.” He shifted again as if trying to get into her skin to be warmer. “Deed to a property in Herefordshire. Got it a few years ago when I was staying with Price.”

“Simon, stop,” she warned—she knew exactly what he was doing.

“Want you to get out and go live there. You’ve served long enough to get pension. You’ll be set for the rest of your life out there.”

“No. Not without you I won’t.”

He shook his head. “I don’ think I’m comin’ back, love. Not this time.”

“Don’t say that,” she stressed, turning her face to his. “They’re coming. We’ll be okay.”

Simon didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Want you to buy one of those big black Corso’s. Name her Morrigan. Let her take care of you and the land.”

Tears began to gather in her eyes. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered. “Quit it.”

“I want you to listen. I want you to be taken care of. I want—”

“I want you alive,” she cut off. “Now shut up and save some energy.”

Simon cracked an eye open and simply gazed at her. “I love you. I know I didn’ say it enough. ‘m sorry, love.”

She clenched her jaw against the wave eating her chest inside out and inhaled deeply. “Simon, stop and rest. I won’t say it again.”

He let his eyes close and laid his head back down. “Alright, love.”

***

It was at least another two hours before noise echoed outside, and it drew her from a slumber she hadn’t realized she was in; she jolted up, Simon jostling with her. “Simon,” she whispered. “Someone’s outside.” He didn’t respond to her, and she pulled away, looking at him. “Simon?” he was asleep, unresponsive to any of the stimuli around him. “Fuck, Simon?” the noise outside grew louder, and she pushed past her fear and shifted from under him, tucking him against the wall as she grabbed her gun and rose to her feet.

Kneeling down, she put a hand against his face. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.” She swallowed. “I’m coming right back, Simon.”

She rose again and headed for the door, cracking it open and slipping outside as a vehicle pulled up; tucking behind the railing, she breathed deeply and lifted her head, catching sight of a few men exiting.

Before she could even raise her weapon, she heard, “Contact!”

Ducking again, she cocked her rifle and listened as the others did the same, obviously hiding behind shelter themselves. It had to be the rest of that enemy squad that she failed to take out when Simon got injured. Fuck, she only had one mag left and she was running on fumes herself. She had to be quick. She had to be careful. She had—

“Identify yourself, or we will shoot!”

Wait, that sounded like—

“I will not say it again! Identify yourself or—”

“Price!” she called and peeked over the railing. “Price, it’s me! It’s me!”

Soap and Gaz appeared on the other side of the SUV. “Athena?”

She felt tears gather in her eyes as she stood up and lowered her gun. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so glad to see you guys.”

Price stopped in front of her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Good to see you. Where’s Simon?”

Simon.

Her heart dropped. “Fuck.” She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cabin and to the corner, the men on her heels; she got to him first and dropped to her knees, shaking him. “Simon! Simon, wake up!”

He didn’t move.

“Simon!” she called again, lifting her cold fingers to his neck. Whether it was her own anxiety or him, she couldn’t feel a thing and she started panicking. “I can’t get a pulse!” she turned to them. “I can’t wake him up!”

Soap pulled her back as Price and Gaz got to work and she thrashed in his arms. “LET GO!”

“Lass, calm down!”

“LET GO! SIMON!” she screamed, her own vision beginning to haze, exhaustion weighing taking its toll.

“We’ve gotta start compressions,” she heard Gaz say and he looked at Price. “He’s not going to make it back if we don’t do something now.”

Price looked back. “Soap, get her in the SUV, we’ll prep Simon for transport.”

“Aye, sir,” Soap said and hefted her up against her thrashing.

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND! LET GO OF ME GODDAMNIT!”

“Lass, you can’t help him even if you wanted to.”

Her body felt like lead and she felt her limbs going numb as her breathing kicked into a wildness, head light and heavy all at the same time. She kept trying to get out of his arms when Price tossed a syringe his way, and a prick to her arm drew blackness into all sides of her gaze, the last thing she saw was Gaz yanking open Simon’s gear to press his hands to his chest.

***

There was an impossibly annoying beeping going off on the side of Simon’s bed and she had half a mind to kick him in his hip and gripe at him to turn it off; she managed to mumble something akin to it but when the beeping didn’t stop, she managed with great effort to crack her eyes open, only to be met with the sterile walls of a medical room.

It all came back in an instant and she sat up straight, yanking the IV out of arm, the oxygen tube from her nose, rolling from the bed. Her knees kissed the floor and pain seared up her legs as she scrambled for the door, only to fall again, but she crawled on her hands and knees to the handle. Lifting herself, she pulled the door open and leaned heavily on the wall of the hallway as she stumbled down, looking in every room for her lover.

“Simon!” she called weakly; the mission had taken its toll on her. She was weak, far beyond her own capacity and she was barely standing as it was. “Simon!” she yelled again, and Soap stuck his head out from a door about five doors down.

“Athena? Holy shite, you shouldn’t be up!” he made it to her, trying to help her, but she pushed past him.

“Where’s Simon?”

“Love, you need to go back to—”

“WHERE IS HE!”

Soap recoiled and recovered, gently wrapping his arm around her. “He’s down here. Still asleep.” His grip was steel. “I’ll take you to him.”

“I can—”

“You either let me help or I take you back to your room.”

She fell silent and let him, that was until she turned the corner of Simon’s room, and darted from his arms, barely managing to avoid face-planting into the hospital bed railing as she clambered onto the bed with the man.

“Simon?” she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands; he was so warm now. Tears seeped down her cheeks. “Simon, sweetheart?” she said again, pressing her head to his chest to feel his steady heartbeat thumping beneath; a choked sound of happiness escaped her, and she looked at Soap. “He’s alive.”

He smiled at her. “Yeah, love, he’s alive.”

“He’s okay?”

“Eh, we’re a little worried about his toes, but so far yeah.”

She buried her face in Simon’s chest, crying into the gown he wore, and grabbed one of his hands; she squeezed it tightly, relief flooding her as his fingers tightened around hers in his sleep.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 6 months ago

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You’re in the middle of eating dinner when Gaz sits next to you.

That’s not exactly a rare occurrence. You work together quite frequently, especially when you were the one deploying drones and fixing the tech. You’ve spent a lot of time talking to each other over the comms and in person, though you always found the comms easier.

Talking and making friends doesn’t come easy which is why you decided to be the tech person.

Tech is easy.

People are not.

Still, you like when he joins you for meal times and hangs out with you in the tech lab even when you don’t speak often.

“Not up for dinning with the others?” He wondered and you looked up with confusion.

You spotted the other 141 sitting down at a different table and you hummed sheepishly.

“Didn’t know you guys were back.” You said and he smiled, causing your chest to warm.

“Just got back. Was hoping you were going to give us a party.”

You giggled and his grin widened.

He always seemed happy when you laughed but you only thought it was because he was the one who started the banger. He was an easy going guy when it came to the people he worked with so he was always pretty relaxed out of the field.

“I’ll buy a cake next time.”

“Doesn’t have to be a good one…but that’s not why I came over here.”

You titled your head and watched as he shifted in his seat. You saw a hint of nervousness behind his eyes despite his smile and your eyebrows knitted together.

You didn’t say anything and he cleared his throat.

“Do you want to get dinner sometime? Somewhere not here?”

You blinked owlishly while your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure if you were reading into it wrong or if Gaz had actually asked you out on a date.

He was always…flirty. He always complimented you and was friendly towards you, sometimes he would lean in close and talk lowly for only you to hear.

He always listened when you spoke about the work that went into making the tech.

But he was friendly with everyone. It had to mean nothing.

“Like a date?” You asked and he lowered his head bashfully.

“Yeah. I wanna go on a date with you sometime.” He gave you soft smile and looked you deep in the eyes.

Dates were a lot different than the usual hangouts. You weren’t sure if you had anything nice to wear or if you’d even be good at it.

You were about to answer when your eyes caught on to movement at a table next to yours.

It was a group of other soldiers you didn’t really interact with but they side eyed you. They glanced away and said something to each other, a few of them stifling their laughter as they glanced at you again.

It was childish and stupid, something that was reminiscent of high school because some people never grew up but it made your body flash with heat.

Suddenly you were all to aware that Gaz was flirting with you and people were watching, and they thought it was funny.

They thought the idea of him with you was funny.

“No.” You said it a lot firmer than you meant to as you looked away from them full of shame.

“Oh…sorry-“

“I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait to get up and leave the mess hall. Your don’t want to be around anyone right now, especially Gaz when it seemed like everyone has their eyes on you when he was around.

It was better this way.

A/n: Idk what this is it was random enjoy

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick x you #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick

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lilac-nites · 8 months ago

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List of Lolita Resources

Someone in my comm encouraged me to make this list of resources for new lolitas. We were talking about how hard it can be to find information from Google search and there's just so much misinformation out there. I have a list of links that I've bookmarked and read over the past decade for when I finally become a lolita. I organized the list by sections in a specific order. It goes from information about the fashion and then to where to buy it.

To any new lolitas, there is so much information out there about lolita fashion that is still available. Part of the fun for me was researching the fashion, looking at coords, and learning what makes lolita lolita. There's so much information out there for you to immerse yourself in and even more stuff that's not listed in this resource list.

What is Lolita Fashion

Fyeah Lolita - This is my favorite blog and I still go back and read it. The last post was made in 2016 and the fashion has changed a lot since then, but it's pretty comprehensive and provides a good base knowledge. Imo, I think these articles (1 2 3 4) are required reading for anyone entering the fashion Lolita Fashion 101 - Bay Area Kei did several videos on lolita fashion during lockdowns. I recommend them for anyone that prefers video format. Raine Dragon's Lolita 101 series - Raine is a lolita that still updates her blog and has a lot of information on the history of lolita fashion. And she has a really great article on Chinese indie brands that should also be required reading for anyone new to using Taobao.

Costs of Lolita Manufacturing - One of the first things you'll notice is that lolita can be expensive. This resource breaks down the costs associated with manufacturing and why brands charge what they charge.

Substyles of Lolita Fashion

The below links are for the three basic styles of lolita fashion. If you research more, you'll find that there are different directions that you can take your wardrobe, but I recommend starting with one of the three above to make it easier for to build your wardrobe. Classic Lolita Sweet Lolita Gothic Lolita

Where to get Lolita Fashion

Before even buying anything, you will need a tape measure to take your measurements. You'll need to measure your bust, waist, hips, and shoulder width in centimeters. That's how you will find out which clothes will fit you. Sizing can be different from brand to brand and country to country. I know many are used to buying using letter sizes, but it's best to go by actual measurements. Aim to buy clothes that are 4 - 6cm larger than your actual measurements to allow room for breathing/eating/etc. If you're brand new to the fashion, I highly recommend sticking to the sources listed in the videos below. It's very easy to get scammed if you don't know what to look for and I'd hate for anyone to lose their money on barely wearable clothes from Amazon/Ebay/Aliexpress. Where to Buy Lolita FashionHow to shop for Lolita Fashion online - secondhand is life for lolita fashion and there are so many options. PinkFakeFlowers goes in depth into the many ways to get it. I personally recommend 42lolita for anyone looking to buy from Chinese brands on Taobao.

Plus Size Lolita

Unfortunately, many of the Japanese brands and even some Chinese indie brands are not size inclusive. If you can't fit into the mainstream brands, don't worry there are still options. I always recommend Meta since they have a Plus Size and occasionally a Plus Plus size of their dresses and blouses that goes up to 160cm or even 200cm in some releases. Plus Size Lolita Crash Course Where to Start as a Plus Sized Lolita - This is a wonderful resource listing brands that are size inclusive.

Online Spaces for Lolita Fashion

Lolita fashion is pretty spread out now compared to the EGL (still recommend reading livejournal because its a cool time capsule of the lolita comm) days, but there are still groups on Facebook. BSoLF - Great for beginners to ask questions and be helped by others. It's hard to search here but I recommend looking through the group for info. Your Local Comm (if applicable) - most are still on Facebook even if they still have a Discord. You can search for your local one on this list.

More Resources for New Lolitas

Lolita Tips for New Lolitas Three helpful tips for coordinating an outfit Lolita Tips Tumblr - I don't recommend Fanplusfriend anymore, but 42lolita is a good replacement. This tumblr is a great resource for inspo and there are many answered asks to reference. Unfortunately, polyvore is no longer a thing and many pictures are missing as a result.

Bonus

These are just a mishmash of links to resources/lists/blog that I like. Lolita Collective

Lolita youtubers ask

Lolita tumblrs ask 20dollarlolita and her post on replicas

More plus size lolita brands ask Japanese Wikipedia entry for Lolita fashion and list of brands

Azuki Mikan

Buttcape

Old School Lolita

#lolita fashion #sweet lolita #classic lolita #gothic lolita #lilac talks #i'll try to update regularly and may even make a more stable version on my website #tbh a lot of these are the ones i like and enjoy and continue to go back and read all the time #i'll also update this page if i find anything else interesting or if i find more videos that i like #edited to change taobao to chinese indie #they are not the same thing

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2chijouu · 8 months ago

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Thinking about post MW3 how ghost is coping with soap’s death by picking up the things he used to do,

Maybe he picks up drawing, buys himself a journal identical to soaps. It starts off shitty but he still does it anyways because soap would love each of his doodles- shitty or not,

Next he picks up coffee, everyone knows ghost hates coffee- despises it, the grimace on his face every time he takes a sip says it all but no one says a word about it,

One day, price finds him in his office sitting by his window, he’s asleep, price goes to wake him up but upon a closer look he sees that theres a worn out book in his lap, its soap’s favorite book.

They’re on a mission when things suddenly take a turn for the worst, theres an unidentified bomb and no one to defuse it, it was a simple recon mission, he’d been sent alone as usual, at first he finds the mission a little sketchy but stays at his post- however when he starts seeing cars rolling in, he reports back to price and goes in for a closer look even after price tells him not to.

After observing the cars from a distance, seeing them roll out immediately after delivering whatever packages they had to the seemingly empty warehouse, he waits a couple of minutes before moving in and checking around the perimeter , after deeming it clear he’s on comms with price telling him the situation, he can hear the hesitation in prices’ voice after giving him the go to check the supply that had been dropped off,

Shuffling through the boxes, he finds nothing but some wood work paraphernalia. Ghost lets out a deep exhale and raises his hand to his shoulder for his comm when his eye spots a box that he missed, when he opens the box and discovers its an active bomb with the timer running, he immediately informs price and springs into action,

Meanwhile price is informing laswell about the current situation and requesting an immediate exfil to which she denies and tells him he needs to disarm the bomb. He bristles with contempt at that and ends their call without any further delay,

Their intel had been lacking from the beginning, and he was not about to lose another member of his team- of his family, he is contacting nikolai when gaz comes into his office to inform him ghost is requesting him on the comms,

While price had been on his way to being discharged because of his impulsiveness and willingness to break multiple rules to get his man out of that situation, said man had simply told him that the bomb had been defused and that when can exfil arrive,

Astonished by the implication of that statement, he asked ghost how did he disarm it all by himself even though he didn’t have any demolition training, to which he was met with silence and then a quiet,

“with Johnny’s help..”

Price stood there with a stunned look on his face but quickly recovered and informed ghost that exfil is on its way.

When ghost lands back on base and exits the heli to see price and gaz waiting up for him, he walks up to them and says nothing, no one does for a bit until price lets out a deep sigh and puts his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze,

“Good job out there, son.”

Gaz gives him a small smile and they all walk back towards their respective barracks and offices.

Ghost, freshened up after a shower, goes to the rec room to get something warm to drink and sees gaz there by the kitchen counter making himself a cuppa, ghost joins him and they’re both making their drinks in silence when gaz breaks it,

“We miss him too, you know?”

Ghost freezes but quickly recovers and gives him an answering hum before moving to the small kitchen table and sits on the chair, gaz joins him with a plate of biscuits and they both sit in silence.

Then ghost speaks,

“Bastard always liked to run his mouth whenever he was defusing a bomb, i picked it up after he..”

He couldn’t continue without his voice shaking but gaz knew so he didn’t say anything further.

They’re all trying to fill in the hole that has been left by him in some way or another.

You can’t fill a bottomless hole.

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mellodillo · 1 year ago

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Oh right, I'm opening up comms!

Fill out the form here to get started!

I'm widening my options a bit from ponies -- As you might've guessed, Mario, Sonic, Parappa, and anything else in that vein is now on the table as well! Throw an idea my way and if I think I can do it, you'll hear from me :)

Commissions start at $50 per character! Slots are limited since I've got other stuff on the horizon, especially with the holidays approaching! So please get your forms in soon if you're looking to buy some art as a gift!

#mellodillo.png #commissions open #super mario #sonic the hedgehog #my little pony #um jammer lammy #parappa the rapper

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago

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Black Mercy

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)

Summary: When you and Bruce find Superman in the Fortress of Solitude, you encounter the Black Mercy. Bruce faces his heart's greatest desire, and you encourage him to find happiness.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x2 "For the Man Who Has Everything", fluff, canon-level violence and action

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: I'll say it again... this show is elite. I'll never shut up about the characterizations of Batman, Superman, and the Flash! But, also, his bat ears.

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

“J’onn, when did Superman check in last?” you inquire.

J’onn clicks the trackpad before him. The Watchtower has the most advanced technology of any place you’ve ever seen, yet J’onn has to navigate to the most recent communication reports to learn when he last heard Clark’s voice.

“Several hours,” J’onn answers with a frown. “He traveled to his Fortress of Solitude to investigate a disturbance but hasn’t reported since he arrived.”

“I’ll try to contact him,” you tell J’onn.

Bruce thought of everything when he designed and funded the Watchtower, and you navigate to your favorite private area. You occasionally wonder if he created such spots for people like you, the unpowered or easily overwhelmed. The Watchtower is big enough that you could go an entire day without seeing another member of the League; now, you crave that privacy to check on your friend.

“Superman, come in,” you say into your small radio. “Hello? … Clark?”

The only response you get is a distant static. You bounce the radio between your hands and frown. Clark can handle himself, of course, but he’s also good about staying in touch. The hidden door beside you creaks open slowly before Bruce steps inside.

“I thought you may be here,” he murmurs. When he turns to face you, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Clark isn’t checking in. J’onn hasn’t heard from him in hours, and I can’t reach him on comms,” you answer.

“Where is he?”

“Fortress of Solitude.”

“Then let’s go.”

You smile and take Bruce’s hand as he helps you to stand. He leads you through the empty hallways of the Watchtower, and you hope that when you get to Superman's hideout, it's just radio interference and nothing more. He steps onto the launch bay and presses a button on his utility belt to open the canopy of the batplane.

“Can I fly?” you ask.

“No,” Bruce answers.

He flies in relative silence, and it isn’t until he steers the plane into the freezing water surrounding the Fortress of Solitude that you decide to speak.

“That was a nice turn,” you compliment. “You usually scare me when you fly.”

“Sorry,” Bruce replies shortly.

He levels the plane onto an ice bank and opens the canopy. When he sees a small box in your hand, he furrows his brows under the cowl. You lead the way through the icy cave and look around for any sign of Clark.

“Is that for his birthday?” Bruce asks.

“What’d you get him?” you reply.

“He’s not the easiest person in the world to buy presents for.” Bruce lifts an envelope from his belt as he speaks.

“Please tell me that’s not a gift card.”

“It’s not… It's cash.”

You nod, and follow Bruce up the stairs into the heart of Superman’s fortress.

“What do you get for the man who has everything?” Bruce adds before freezing.

You drop the gift box when you see Clark. Bruce’s arm stretches past you protectively as you look from a distance. Clark stands motionless with a large plant attached to his chest and wrapped around his shoulders and back.

“What is that?” you ask Bruce.

He walks down the steps to get a closer look, and you follow closely behind him.

“Looks like some kind of plant,” Bruce says. “Seems to be growing through his costume and into his body.”

You step to Bruce’s side and look at Clark’s chest. He’s breathing, barely, but that’s enough of a promise that he can be saved from whatever this is. Clearly, someone was in the fortress, and Clark probably interrupted them. You will know where to start if you learn what he was investigating.

“Look around,” Bruce requests. “I’ll see what I can find here.”

You leave his side as he shines a light in Clark’s eyes. Bruce is well-versed in Kryptonian anatomy, so you trust him to decide what’s best for Clark.

“Pupils aren’t responding in the slightest. He must be cut off from all sensation,” Bruce deduces.

“How do we save someone who doesn’t know we’re trying?” you inquire.

Bruce doesn’t answer you but murmurs, “Kent, where are you?”

“So, it was a gift. Teleported here from some alien culture, some grateful world. Or someone wanting you to think they were grateful,” Bruce says to Clark.

“How remarkable,” someone calls. Bruce stands quickly and sees Mongul as he finishes, “You animals really are almost intelligent, aren’t you? That’s exactly what happened.”

Mongul steps out of the shadows, and Bruce sees you unconscious in his hand. His jaw clenches, but he remains calm and focused. He can’t save you or Clark if he loses a fight with Mongul.

“Mongul,” Bruce greets.

“You recognize me. I’m flattered. I suppose Superman told you all about our previous encounter.”

“You mean how he humiliated you?” Bruce taunts.

“A… jaundiced account. What inferior specimens he surrounds himself with.” Mongul raises you cruelly and says, “I took her down before she even knew I was there, and I’ll take this planet just as easily.”

You gesture with your hand to show Bruce you’re about to move and then swing your legs up. When they meet Mongul’s jaw, he tips back, and you fall to the cold floor.

“Maybe she knew more than you thought,” you say. “We inferior specimens call it ‘playing possum.’”

You prepare to fight Mongul despite the unfairness of the fight. Before you can punch or be punched, however, Bruce jumps between you and Mongul.

“No,” he demands.

“Clearly the males on this world are the smart one,” Mongul muses. “He wants to know about the plant. The Black Mercy is a telepathic species. It reads the heart’s desires and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it.”

“So, he’s dreaming?” Bruce clarifies.

“Oh, far deeper than any dream. I wonder where he thinks he is… Sitting on a throne ruling the universe, all you human garbage fawning at his feet? More honest, don’t you think than this pretense of being a selfless hero?”

“Bruce, we can’t take him,” you whisper as Mongul looks at Clark. “What are we supposed to do?”

“We can’t take him,” Bruce agrees. “But we can take a plant.”

“Need a distraction?”

“Be careful.”

You run toward Mongul and force him backward, away from Clark. He knocks you to the floor with ease, but where you lack size and power, you have mobility and agility. You maneuver away from him and run through an opening in the wall. As you hoped, he follows you.

Meanwhile, Bruce attempts to cut through the plant but fails.

“He’ll kill her, Clark,” Bruce tells Clark. “And then he’ll kill us all. Shake it off. Come back to us… Please.”

Bruce told you to be careful, but you’re doing anything you can to keep Mongul away from him. You fire a Kryptonian weapon at him, but you and Bruce face similar luck as nothing works to help you. You’re trapped in a losing fight, and Bruce can’t get Clark back. You see another line of weapons and run into an adjoining room. Mongul follows you, and he’s loud enough that Bruce can locate you without seeing you.

“She’s in the hall of weapons. That will buy her time, but not enough.” He grips Clark’s shoulders and adds, “She’s fighting for her life, Clark. You’ve got to fight too, Clark.”

The weapon goes cold, and you drop it before you realize how close you are to Mongul. Mogul wraps a hand around your shoulders and squeezes your neck before pushing you onto the floor.

“First, I’ll kill you and the Bat and then I’ll take this planet,” he says.

“You won’t win,” you force out.

“Of course I will.”

Mongul lifts you from the ground before dropping you again, and you can only hope that Bruce is close to saving Clark. Once he’s back, you can be sure Mongul won’t win.

“Yes, that’s it,” Bruce says as he pulls the Black Mercy from Clark’s chest. “Fight it. Fight it.”

Bruce finally succeeds and removes the plant from Clark, but his victory is short-lived before it attaches to him instead.

“Batman!” you yell as Mongul throws you across the hall of weapons.

You struggle to push yourself to your feet, but a blue and red blur knocks Mongul off his feet before you can. While Clark pays Mongul back for everything he lost, you stumble through a hole in the wall to find Bruce. It’s unimaginable - to lose your heart’s desire, but when you see Bruce smiling with the Black Mercy on his chest, you find the strength to keep moving.

“Bruce,” you call, but it’s no more than a whimper.

You kneel before him and grip the sides of the plant. Pulling is pointless, but you need him back. Clark can undoubtedly handle Mongul alone, but Bruce needs your help now.

“Bruce, fight for me. Come back to me,” you plead.

“Bruce, I think it’s your turn.”

Bruce shakes his head and continues kissing you. The kids are making noise in the formal living room, but he ignores it. Not even the unmistakable sound of something breaking can draw Bruce away from you.

“Brucie,” you try again.

Talking against his lips doesn't work because his kisses are addictive. You finally raise your hands and push yourself away from Bruce. He smiles, and you know your happiness is evident on your face, too.

“Your kids are destroying the manor,” you remind him.

“We can fix it. And they’re our kids.”

“I’m happy,” you tell him.

“I am too.”

Bruce brushes your hair back and watches your smile fall.

“But it’s not real,” you whisper.

“It can be,” Bruce promises.

He leans toward you, and you kiss his forehead before answering, “Then wake up and make it real.”

Bruce wakes and is harshly reminded of where he is as he falls backward. The Black Mercy is wrapping around your outstretched arms, and you grunt with effort as you force it away from your chest. Clark is still fighting Mongul, and each reference to his heart’s desire revives his fight and energy.

“Bruce,” you call.

Bruce pushes your arms away from your face, and you roll toward a hole in the floor. Mongul is directly beneath you, and the Black Mercy falls away from you before landing on him. Clark sits back in relief as Mongul disappears into his heart’s desire.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

You assure him that it's nothing more than bumps and bruises, and Bruce pulls a grappling hook from his belt. You wrap your arms around Bruce and cling to him as he lowers to Clark’s side.

“This was your birthday present,” you tell Clark as you pass him the battered box. “Probably broken now, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark says with a smile. He looks up at the Kryptonian statues above you and promises, “I won’t forget you.”

“I wonder what he’s seeing,” you say, pointing toward Mongul. “Something better than he deserves, I’m sure.”

“You’re the only one who didn’t get a glimpse at your heart’s desire,” Clark points out. “Maybe I should get you a gift on the way back.”

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry for whatever it is you lost. But I’m glad you get to spend your birthday here.”

“I appreciate it. And who knows, maybe I’ll get my desire someday.”

“I hope so.”

“Happy birthday,” Bruce says as he passes the envelope to Clark.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Clark replies. “What do you say we got back to the Watchtower and let the Fortress rest for a while?”

You and Bruce agree, but Bruce waits beside you as Clark walks toward the hidden entrance. He’ll meet you back in space, but now you’re more interested in Bruce’s attention on you.

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I thought it would be about my parents. When Mongul explained it, I just assumed,” Bruce says.

“I think mine would have been a normal life. No need for superheroes or watchtowers… just domesticity and happiness with someone who I love and who loves me.”

“You were there,” Bruce says quickly.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of any other, more appropriate response. "Was it… you don’t have to tell me.”

“It felt so real, even though I knew it wasn’t. Is it wrong that I wanted it to be?”

“Of course not.”

“Clark can’t get what he wanted, not if he was back on Krypton, but I could get mine with a single question. What makes me more worthy; after everything I’ve done?”

“Bruce,” you say, drawing his attention when you lay a hand on his chest. “It’s not about that. If your desire is more achievable in this life, that has nothing to do with what you deserve. And you’re not a bad person, so stop punishing yourself.”

“You told me I could make it real,” he murmurs.

“Then ask the question. You can leave it here with that plant, or you can do something for you this one time.”

“We were in the manor,” Bruce begins. “And there were kids playing in the other room, and you looked so happy. I was happy again, and I haven’t been happy in that house since I was eight years old.”

“Things can change,” you whisper.

“Would you- could we try?” Bruce asks.

“The kids in the manor thing or the you and me thing?” you tease.

You lay your hands on Bruce’s shoulders and lean close to him. His hands hover above your waist before settling against the top of your hips.

“Both?” he suggests.

“Alfred will be so happy to have company again,” you say before closing the distance and kissing Bruce.

His dreams are coming true, and yours are too. The fight never ends, but part of you is glad that the Black Mercy attached to Bruce’s chest and the version of you in his heart convinced him to take the next step.

“Alright, let’s go, Brucie,” you say as you pull back. “Clark’s going to get suspicious.”

“Brucie?” Bruce repeats. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“New things, remember? Now, come on, we have a world to protect before you take me on a proper date.”

Bruce follows you as you walk back toward the batplane and shakes his head as he murmurs, “Does this not count?”

#hanna writes✯#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #fem!reader #jlu

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