![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
we wish for better. Gotham. Teen. Selina/Bruce. Spoilers for s4. Written for the prompt ‘Any, any, "Sometimes I wish we lived in an alternate universe."’ at
comment_fic Drabble.
we wish for better: shallowness
“Sometimes, I wish we lived in an alternate universe.”
Selina is on a lot of drugs, which she’s not complaining about, because it’s better than pain or nothingness after bleeding out, but she’s slow to process Bruce’s quiet words at her bedside. Of course he wishes he lived in an alternate universe - one where his parents lived, like Selina used to wish she lived in a world where her mother wanted her.
“One where you hadn’t been hurt,” he adds.
“You sap,” she croaks. “But thanks.”
Later, Selina realises it’s that wish for an alternate Gotham that drives Bruce.
Just A Very High Number. Original. Teen. OFC/OMC, Livia of Earth/Erish of Jaylon. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, 7-Eleven? Wait, (you're/they're/its) seven hundred and eleven YEARS?’at
comment_fic 385 words.
Summary: Interspecies cultural exchange regarding the importance of numbers.
Just A Very High Number: shallowness
I lie back stunned, and not for the first time since Erish led me to his cabin. But this time it's because of the words that have come out of his mouth, not because of other things he may have done with it.
"Well, you've learned a lot over all those centuries," I say weakly. Yes, that's the first thing I say after, "Wait, you're seven hundred and eleven years old!?"
In my defence, I thought the age difference was the other way around and I’d guessed that Erish wasn't that much younger than me. Wrong, Livia. So very wrong.
He shifts so I can't help but look into his eyes. It was trying to determine precisely what colour those eyes were that got me here.
"Our years aren't like Earth years," he says.
Instead of letting myself drown in those gorgeous alien eyes again, I think about the understanding you'd acquire over all those years, of how he's just shown respect for Earth culture. I then start wondering what historical events took place back on my dirtball seven hundred and eleven years ago. We certainly weren’t in space back then. Didn’t most people believe the sun revolved around the Earth seven centuries ago?
"Hey," he says, nudging me. "Stop spiralling, Livia. It really isn't the same. By Jaylonian reckoning, I'm a sprig."
I can't help it, I look down at a certain anatomical part of his body, not that dissimilar to the human equivalent, and I smirk. I wouldn't call him a sprig.
He's grinning.
"Ah, made you smile, made you look." he murmurs, before bending his head down and nuzzling me. “Now we could work out how old I am in your years, or…”
I make a ‘hmm’ noise that is more an expression of pleasure than anything. I can’t help it.
"It's just a number," he says, his hand skimming my hip, and just that sensation feels wonderful, but I know he can give me so much more pleasure. "It doesn't matter."
I give in and reach for him. We work it out later. He’s still older than me, but it’s not that bad. We decide to shrug it off, but apparently the number of orgasms you and your partner enjoy do count in Erish's culture. I appreciate their way of thinking.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
“Sometimes, I wish we lived in an alternate universe.”
Selina is on a lot of drugs, which she’s not complaining about, because it’s better than pain or nothingness after bleeding out, but she’s slow to process Bruce’s quiet words at her bedside. Of course he wishes he lived in an alternate universe - one where his parents lived, like Selina used to wish she lived in a world where her mother wanted her.
“One where you hadn’t been hurt,” he adds.
“You sap,” she croaks. “But thanks.”
Later, Selina realises it’s that wish for an alternate Gotham that drives Bruce.
Just A Very High Number. Original. Teen. OFC/OMC, Livia of Earth/Erish of Jaylon. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, 7-Eleven? Wait, (you're/they're/its) seven hundred and eleven YEARS?’at
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Summary: Interspecies cultural exchange regarding the importance of numbers.
I lie back stunned, and not for the first time since Erish led me to his cabin. But this time it's because of the words that have come out of his mouth, not because of other things he may have done with it.
"Well, you've learned a lot over all those centuries," I say weakly. Yes, that's the first thing I say after, "Wait, you're seven hundred and eleven years old!?"
In my defence, I thought the age difference was the other way around and I’d guessed that Erish wasn't that much younger than me. Wrong, Livia. So very wrong.
He shifts so I can't help but look into his eyes. It was trying to determine precisely what colour those eyes were that got me here.
"Our years aren't like Earth years," he says.
Instead of letting myself drown in those gorgeous alien eyes again, I think about the understanding you'd acquire over all those years, of how he's just shown respect for Earth culture. I then start wondering what historical events took place back on my dirtball seven hundred and eleven years ago. We certainly weren’t in space back then. Didn’t most people believe the sun revolved around the Earth seven centuries ago?
"Hey," he says, nudging me. "Stop spiralling, Livia. It really isn't the same. By Jaylonian reckoning, I'm a sprig."
I can't help it, I look down at a certain anatomical part of his body, not that dissimilar to the human equivalent, and I smirk. I wouldn't call him a sprig.
He's grinning.
"Ah, made you smile, made you look." he murmurs, before bending his head down and nuzzling me. “Now we could work out how old I am in your years, or…”
I make a ‘hmm’ noise that is more an expression of pleasure than anything. I can’t help it.
"It's just a number," he says, his hand skimming my hip, and just that sensation feels wonderful, but I know he can give me so much more pleasure. "It doesn't matter."
I give in and reach for him. We work it out later. He’s still older than me, but it’s not that bad. We decide to shrug it off, but apparently the number of orgasms you and your partner enjoy do count in Erish's culture. I appreciate their way of thinking.