With Clark, I think that he may be hesitant at first. Not fully against it but not fully down to do it. I think he would be really concerned with the specifics and what it meant. Like, is it crossing a line? Is it invasive? Is it painful?
He would definitely be talking to Lois about it, a LOT, and badgering you with, an understandably, endless stream of questions. And a perpetual worry line would most certainly be gracing his face.
When actually happened the first time, the two of you were of planet handling diplomatic affairs with a race of aliens that were particularly hungry for violence.
The two of you had been beaten down and backed into a corner, and only a true show of power would get them to respect the two of you, enough to not kill you. With this in mind, your hand shot out to your side, grabbed onto Clark's bicep, and you initiated a fusion. Your bodies exploded into blue, red, and yellow lights, then came back together into a shifting amorphous blob. The blob eventually molds itself into the silhouette of a hulking man with long following hair.
Mind palace:
Clark's mind was a sunny place. It was undoubtedly the Kent farm he grew up on. Long fields of knee-high wheat stalks and corn, and cows grazing off in the distance. At the center of the field was a large, gorgeous beige house with a wide porch. To the left of the house was a massive tree. A tire swing, hung from one of the thicker, sturdier branches. Just in front of the house was a clear spacious area. The two of you found yourselves in the center of this clearing staring into each other's eyes. You could see the confusion on his face, his mouth opening and closing like fish.
Before he could begin to unravel your shared situation with questions, you quickly told him to start dancing if he didn't want the two of you to be killed, or worse, held as political prisoners.
Clark's Dance & Duration:
Clark's natural movements were what should be expected of a farm boy: boisterous but structured. What he was doing, was a line dance. It was fun and rambunctious, yet each move flowed into the next. Shoulder shimmies turned into spins, and spins into stomps. Every step flowed like a river, pulling laughter and spontaneity out of the both of you.
Your fusion with Clark can last the full 5 minutes.
So, I've been watching a LOT of Steven Universe (SU) edits. SO much so that I created an OC inspired by the SU gems and Puella Magi Madoka Magica!
If you guys want to know more abt him specifically, I'll make another post but the main thing you need to know is that he can fuse with anyone except for people or beings with more than one soul, with some exceptions to the rule.
Now, the first really important thing to know before I get into what my idea actually is, is that I'm going to be talking about how my oc's fusions work with DC characters, specifically members of the Justice League!
The second really important thing to know is that my ocs fusions are limited to 5 minutes max because the people he's fusing with aren't like him species wise and only require a touch with the intent to fuse to initiate the process. Keep in mind the fusion aspect of his character is heavily inspired by SU so when he is fusing, he and his partner break down into light and reform, but to maintain the Fusion at all, they enter this mind palace kind of place that is a split between each person's mind (think of it like the concept of innate domains from jjk if you need an example to understand that part). In this "mind palace," the partners have to dance together (in sync), without stopping, to maintain the fusion without it breaking prematurely. And, just like in SU, each fusion dance is unique to the person, but in the case of my OC, he follows what ever style his partner is best versed in because they aren't of the same species and therefore, can't just try to maintain emotional equilibrium after an initial dance (again, if that was confusing just think about how SU fusion actually works).
I'm going to make another post actually going into character interaction specifics VERY VERY soon so stay tuned!
And remember if you want more on the OC himself, or possibly more specifics about this, just ask! <3
A/N: This was so much longer than I initially intended lol
Wonder Woman/Diana Prince
Diana's reaction to the thought would be... mixed. Similarly to Clark, she is fully against or with it. Diana is the kind of woman who needs to be presented with a reason to do something like that. Not only that, but she also needs to fully understand what's happening in that scenario or why.
Diana is proud of herself and her own strength. She's honed it through years of intense training with her people and allies, so trying to market fusion as some kind of path to more, albeit limited, power just doesn't really sell her on the idea. It's even less effective when she then goes on to think about that fact that your were an extremely skilled fighter in your own right, I mean, you are a part of the Justice League.
She also questioned what would happen physically to the two of you. She'd heard about what happened during your and Clark's recent interstellar diplomacy mission and well, was curious. The both of you taking on a male presenting form in your fusion could be expected, you're both men, but she clearly isn't a man. She also isn't opposed to possibly assuming the form of a man, it certainly wouldn't be the weirdest thing she'd have endured in her lifetime, but she also wasn't jumping at the opportunity, no matter how brief the experience would be.
Eventually, after being assured that she wouldn't lose herself or her individuality, and being assured that there would be no lingering after-effects aside from a deeper understanding of each other as people, she was more receptive to the idea of fusing with you. She did however, insist on doing it at that very moment in the Watchtower's training room.
The two of you stood in the center of the room facing each other. You then reached out and gently grabbed her hands. You both then bowed your heads and your foreheads gently brushed together. The cool steel of her tiara provided a calming sensation, helping you center yourself as you initiated the fusion.
The wind around the two of you began to pick up. Slowly, it's energy grew as it started to spiral around you both. Beginning at the soles of your feet, your bodies began to glow. The brilliant light slowly crawled upwards, coating the both of your beings in a kaleidoscope of yellow, blue, and red lights. Once the lights encase you fully, they begin to flow off of your forms like thick and heavy paints, leaving behind nothing but your now, pure glowing white forms. As the colors began to pool at your feet, your bodies started to float and merge.
As your bodies fused together, creating a shifting pearl of white light, the colors that once pooled at your feet began to rise and circle your amorphous form once more. The colors created a sphere of rings, enclosing your new and slowly clarifying form in multicolored lights.
The final form of your fusion, resulted in a tall female shaped form. Each of the circling rings of light then splashed themselves across your new shared body, covering it in each color present. This form, like your form with Clark, also had noticeably long and flowing hair.
Mind Palace:
Diana's mind was a forest. Like literally a forest. There was lush greenery as far as the eye could see, which was only so far because of all the trees. Alongside the green of the plants were a load of other colors too. So, I guess it's more accurate to say that Diana's mind was more of a rain forest than any other kind.
You could hear a waterfall off in the distance. It was loud and energetic, and magnetic. You followed the sound until you reached a clearing. At the center of it was a large, circular platform. It seemed to be carved from marble and was wrapped with rings of steps. At the edges of the main platform were five sturdy, colossal pillars also made of marble. Vines crawled their way up the pillars, then draped themselves across the tops of each pillar forming archways.
At the center of this structure, you spotted Diana. The 'sun' was shining down on her toned form, and each of the pieces of steel on her person glimmered with beauty as they reflected the sun's rays.
You climbed the stairs until you reached her, your own mind burning with one question, 'Where is this?'
As though she could read your mind, without turning to meet your gaze, she answered.
"This is Themyscira. My home. However, this exact spot is somewhere I used to train with my sister" she smiled.
"We'd often then go over to the waterfall to soak before returning to our other duties," she said with a soft chuckle, and continued.
"Your lucky, this is as close as a man will ever get to Themyscira."
She then turned to you, and you replied with a grin, "Well then, I'm honored!"
After your exchange, Diana asked you what to do from here. Your reply was one word, "Dance."
She looked at you a little bamboozled. She didn't know any dances, at least not any traditional or standard ones. You reassured her that whatever she knew how to do that was closest to a dance would work. You explained that your physical body was still more of a concept than a tangible thing, and that you'd both need to get in sync physically.
When she heard that she offered sparring as a solution. In response, you informed her that, while it would definitely be a way to get in sync with each other, the sparring would only weaken and eventually break your connection (because even innocently, when engaging in combat with someone, there will always be an establishing of dominance and the goal is co-dominance).
Eventually, you asked her if she knew Tai-Chi, to which she said she did. You were ecstatic, to begin. You moved to stand next to her before you both began and took a deep breath.
Diana's Dance & Duration:
As you both started a soft breeze picked-up. Calmly, your bodies twisted. Your movements were steady and unwavering. Each wave of your arms, or sweep of your legs melted together. The rhythm Diana set was euphoric. Every stretching motion released tension from your forms and you melted further into each other's presence as you continued.
warnings: Reader has had a rough childhood, Reader is also in debt to Penguin for awhile and gets banged up (it is pretty intense to so beware), Reader gets his revenge eventually. Usual comic book violence
word count: 1.7k
not requested
AN: Sorry if this is a little chaotic, I originally intended for this to be a lot shorter and a one shot but once I started ideas started flowing and I got excited.
Pain
That's what he felt at the moment. The dull ache of a long night in Gotham crawled through his veins. His brain had been seized by a migraine long ago but he ignored it in favor of getting home faster...
In favor of getting to you faster.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You'd both met each other during the days of calculus homework and proms. Your peers thought the two of you to be an odd pair, you in particular, were the odd one to them. Your affiliation with the king of the school was often questioned, though by the time the two of you’d caught wind of the whispers, neither of you cared.
Before your bond to each other began to materialize however, you found yourself uncharacteristically intrigued with him. Bruce Wayne, the boy who was forced to face an unimaginable loss, the kind that would break anyone else, yet still managed to smile and engage with the world fully. At least, that's who he masqueraded himself around the school as.
You saw through the ditsy front he put on for everyone else. Through the empty smiles and forced laughs. Through the faux jovial tone he forced from the depths of his lungs when interacting with his cohorts. Through fake excitement at the mere mention of a party.
You wondered, why?
Why was he pretending?
Didn't he know that he didn't have to engage?
That he didn't have to be here?
That he didn't have to be in Gotham?
You would have left the second you could if you had what he did. If you had the bottomless pits of money, or world-wide recognition of the Wayne name.
But you don't.
Instead, you have debts that aren't your own. A dull and ever present feeling of hunger. Stress like that of a broke college student. And, the grief of an orphan.
Your mother, gorgeous as she was kind, passed long ago to the ugliness of Gotham. She left behind only a five-year-old son, who'd fall into the strangling clutches of Gotham's foster system. You bounced from home to home, each one adding a new horror for your mind to struggle grappling with at night.
Some of your "homes" only wanted the check that followed a ward of the state. Others wanted an obedient servant that could be shoved under a staircase when not needed. A few wanted a punching bag capable of crying and bleeding. Thankfully, some wanted a replacement, something to distract from their own tragedies. Those were the best homes for you, they gave you a lot, even though what they gave was always marred with grief and memories of someone you'd never know and they'd never forget.
Each of those hells taught you something however, one taught you the value of silence and observation, another the strength in independence, another the necessity of planning.
All of them succeeded in creating what was your one desire however, "Escape Gotham at all costs." This was a mantra you recited to yourself religiously. A prayer shared by many in Gotham. Especially those like yourself and like your mother, those who had been scorned by the darkest of Gotham's alleys, and broken by its most greedy 'leaders'.
'Leaders' like Oswald Cobblepot (aka The Penguin). A monster that took advantage of those like your mother. A monster that fiends benevolence, loaning money to struggling families, only to bare its fangs at them when they can't afford the predatory interest rates that follows said 'loan'.
The Penguin became a ruthless, constant darkness in your life. When your mother passed, her debt was pushed onto you, and so was the Penguin's wrath.
He was a pit of despair that wrapped its inky black hands around your throat and squeezed out all that you had to offer, and then some. Each time you thought yourself to be alone, you weren't. He was there waiting to drag you into an alley, or closet, or, for today, out of the empty hall and into the boys bathroom of your high school.
He always came to collect.
No matter when it was.
And certainly, no matter where you were.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hand that snatched you from the hall was calloused and rough. Colossal in comparison to your shoulder and careless with your smaller frame at 15. Your body was flung to the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom harshly. Your head makes an awful thud as it collides with the floor. A sharp cry rips itself from your mouth.
Your head begins to ache as disorientation sets in. Unfortunately, you aren't allowed a moment to catch your breath before a boot, cold and wet with the horrors of a public restroom's floor collides with the side of your head. Almost immediately, another is launched to your chest knocking the air from your lungs and leaving a gross stain on your chest. The onslaught continues for what feels like an eternity, your body is certainly now covered in ugly bruises hidden underneath your uniform.
The only period of mercy you were granted was when the only meal you'd had that day, made an unwanted re-appearance and scattered itself across the floor. The brute ensnares your wrists and binds them behind your back, then leverages a crushing grip on your curls to drag your head up enough to face the Penguin.
The man was short and round, with a nose more like a beak than anything else. He sported a gold rimmed monocle and a top hat with a white band around the middle of it. The man was dressed in a well tailored tuxedo, form fitting yet comfortable if you were to hazard a guess.
You would have been impressed with his formal appearance under different circumstances, but given the reality of your situation, you've instead grown to hate such formal attire.
The man then roughly gripped your jaw and looked down at you. His expression resembled that of someone gazing upon trash. As if you were so disgusting that you belonged in a landfill, infested with rodents and filth. That look made you sick.
“Where is your payment?” the man inquired with an irate yet measured tone.
“I don’t—” your response was cut off by sickening crack, followed by your stifled scream. Your now broken nose was profusely leaking angry dark red lines of blood.
The Penguin’s ringed fist came down upon your face twice more before the man asked the question again.
“Where’s my money?”
“P- Please, I’ve almost got it all I just need another week” you pleaded with a bloody stutter.
Your plea however, falls on uncaring ears as a vicious flurry of blows befall your body. Your face is left littered with cuts and bruises, and your torso assaulted so violently that you’d find yourself lucky to not have one of your many broken ribs puncture a lung. The only even semi grace given to you was your arms and legs being spared, though it was only so you’d have no excuse but to drag yourself to him with a payment toward the ever growing debt his uses to chain you to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When your body is finally allowed to fall to the ground you’re barely conscious. You wondered if you were breathing, but your delirious pondering was cut short by a raspy voice.
“You better have my money when I decide to pay you another visit. You don’t, and I’ll be sure that you and your mother have an early reunion.”
Those words are the last things you hear until a firm yet panicked voice pierces through the unconscious haze of your mind, after what felt like days. The words were jumbled, and only resulted in the jack-hammering in your brain becoming angrier.
Once your nerves could register the hands that found themselves on your body, you began to pick up on some other feelings. You ignored the jumbled murmuring to focus and— you felt soaked. Had a pipe burst? Had you bled so severely that your clothes had become drenched with your pain? No, if that were true you would have to be dead or seriously dying. You hoped you weren't, your life was awful but you didn’t want to die even if—
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!” a horrific and primal scream tears itself from your lungs, guttural and painful.
The person had just laid a hand on your battered chest. Goading an explosive rush of pain through your entire body, the pain then multiplies one-hundred fold when you feel yourself being hoisted off of the ground. The pain rips another blood-curdling scream from your body causing your eyes to fly open. The overwhelming rush of light that bounds into your eyes is too much, consequently, causing your head to feel as if it were exploding. The last coherent thought that you could pull together before the pain took over was that you definitely weren’t in the school anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of steady beeping stirred your mind to consciousness. Dampened pains kissed your joints and danced across the plain of your person. Your memory was hazy, a familiar feeling, the fog, it was something you’ve grown accustomed to. This was far from the first time the Penguin punished you for a late payment. It was why you didn’t need to remember any explicit details that would have led to this moment, nor did you need more than the steady beeping of the currently ubiquitous machine next to you to know where you were.
You did, however, wonder how you got here. Had you managed to drag your broken body to a hospital and simply forgotten? A truth like that wouldn’t have shocked you. Again, it wouldn’t have been the first time you had to do such a thing.
As you began to stir, a question plagued your newly conscious mind.
How would you explain yourself to the hospital staff this time?
When you began to open your eyes, the bright fluorescent lights of the room blinded you. The beeping of the vitals monitor became more and more obnoxious as your ears re-accustomed themselves to providing your mind with auditory sensations. There was a hushed murmur to your left. You could make out something about morphine which frightened you.
You wouldn't be able to effectively lie if you weren't lucid. It was then that you decided to open your eyes, or at least, one of them.
AN: That's all for now! I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger, but honestly I'm not sure where I want to go from here yet but I know I've been sitting on this and if I ever actually want to be a writer, I know I have to actually write other stuff but I'm stuck.
So please: like, reblog, and leave a comment with ideas or things that you liked :)
P.S. I would also love it if you guys let me know if you notice any spelling or grammar mistakes so that I can fix them.
I'm just running into some severe writer's block...
BUT, and this is good news, I've decided that I'm going to release both of the fics I'm working on at the same time!
Also, y'all let me know if you want me to share the author's AND fics that I've been reading because now that I'm writing on this page, I planned on not reposting everything on my feed here to avoid further burying my fics but I've been feeling weird because not doing so ultimately means that i'm ghosting y'all since (and i'm not shooting shots) y'all don't really leave messages on fics or use my asks yet (the "yooooo" thing)
Do y'all want me to post the fics i read on this blog too, or just keep it to eventual asks and my written fics?
