#filled prompt
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Reporter finds out that their city's hero is corrupt, and they make it their goal to expose them to the public. Somehow they fall in love. (Can go plucky reporter who openly confronts Hero, or cautious reporter who knows a corrupt hero is dangerous, so they get close under false pretenses to find evidence.)
Prompt courtesy of @thepenultimateword
"Wait. No. What is...?" The reporter's throat had gone dry as sand. They slapped the composition book shut, thrust it back into the gold paper wrappings. But it was too late. Afterimages of dates and names and dizzyingly high sums danced before their eyes - all in the hero's own neat handwriting.
"It's the proof you wanted, darling," the hero said, a dreamy smile on their lips as they gazed at the reporter through the candlesticks. "All the money I've been extorting from our city's villains in exchange for turning a blind eye to their wrongdoing. Happy one year anniversary."
The reporter stared from the hero's face back down to the gift, so beautifully wrapped. They had gotten the hero designer sunglasses. "You knew," they said. It was meant to be a question but... no. This was not a surprise. Somewhere over the past year, this had become an inevitability. "You knew I was..."
"Investigating me? Seducing me?" The hero chuckled and rose. The reporter managed to quash their flinch as the hero picked up the reporter's empty plate, then their own. "Darling, I spend my life foiling schemes. Yes, of course I knew."
The reporter sat, flooded in an adrenaline rush so strong they wondered if they were having a heart attack. The door to the hero's penthouse apartment was forty feet behind their back. Their fingers itched to grab that notebook and run - but some survival instinct kept them frozen to their chair as the hero prowled the dishes off to the kitchen.
"So," the reporter said evenly. "You've just been... toying with me, this whole time?"
"Toying with you," the hero purred, returning to cock a hip against the table and give the reporter that half-feral smile they had only ever seen behind closed doors. God help them, the reporter felt themselves blush. "Yes. That's a good word. You decided you'd try to seduce your way into my confidence, to uncover my secrets. So..." The hero traced a finger along the reporter's temple, teasing a lock of hair out to run between their fingers. "...I set out to seduce you back. And you win."
The reporter blinked. "What."
"You win." The hero gave a fond little tug to their hair and then let go. "I've fallen in love with you. So."
"You cant love me! I'm here to expose you!" The reporter scrambled backwards, clutching the notebook to their chest as if the hero hadn't just handed it to them, literally gift wrapped. "You've been blackmailing villains!"
The hero shrugged without a blush of shame. "Only those who would have bought their way out of the justice system anyway. Why shouldn't I cut out the middleman and use their money for crime-fighting?"
"Crime-fighting? You're lining your pockets!" The reporter waved a hand wildly at their luxury surroundings as they backed away. "The food, the clothes, the whole lifestyle!"
"And I'm the last hero of my generation still standing," the hero said, calm and steady as they paced forward. "You think that's a coincidence? Or you think it's because you and I both know sometimes doing the right thing means bending a few rules along the way?"
The reporter stopped dead again. "What are you talking about?"
The hero's hand closed on the reporter's wrist and - yanked was too harsh a word. It was a pull and a spin, like the sun dragging a meteorite into its gravity well and suddenly the reporter was wrapped up in the hero's arms. In their lover's arms, their back pressed to the hero's chest.
"This," the hero hummed into the protagonist's ear, swaying them both to the soft music trickling from the hidden sound system. "A year of lies and blurred lines and compromises to get your story. Hardly the stuff of journalistic ethics seminars. What would your friends and colleagues say?"
"So it's blackmail," the reporter whispered.
"If that's what you want. We could destroy each other. Or..." The hero's mouth pressed to the sensitive spot on the reporter's neck. They almost melted. "Or we could see what happens next, with all our cards on the table."
"You can't be serious." The reporter jerked away. The hero let them go. "You want to keep dating?"
"Of course. You're gorgeous, clever, a little reckless, and you have that flexible morality thing. It's like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other." The hero gave them a once-over so blatant the reporter blushed again. But they didn't move to corner the reporter. "Go home, think about it. Take the notebook."
"You won't chase me?" the reporter said before they could stop themselves.
The hero's grin widened. "How about I give you a head start?"
The reporter fled to the sound of the hero's laughter rattling in their chest.
#my fiction#hero x villain#reporter x hero#evil hero#filled prompt#thepenultimateword#reporter x villain#100#300#500
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rhett abbott x oc | another au
Summary: "we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now?" aka what if they were childhood best friends to lovers? huh? what then? (wc: 3393)
Requested: YES by @saltynametag
Warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, a sex joke involving doggy bedsheets, and SUPER suggestive at the end there + a cliffhanger on where that situation goes
✎……uh...if ya want me to finish out what happens at the end there just lmk...
✎……MASTERLIST
It is a truth universally acknowledged that children of ranchers stuck together. Even if one of those ranchers specialized in cattle and the other in horses.
Tessa Abernathy and Rhett Abbott were no exception to this truth. They met when they were just four years old, their fathers having brought them along to the local tractor supply to pick up a few things for their respective ranches. Both Royal Abbott and Nathan Abernathy set their kids down for only a second to look at something. But then the little tots were gone. Nowhere to be seen in the large store. They were only missing for about five minutes — neither of their fathers were even all that worried. Royal and Nathan wandered up on the two of them standing side by side on an overturned bird feeder box, looking at the baby ducks under the heated lamp.
The two of them were inseparable after that. Pre-school and kindergarten, elementary to middle school — their friendship even lasted throughout high school, when some childhood friendships were most tested. Kept together through their love of the rodeo and each other. Weekends spent at one or the other’s houses, when they weren’t traveling with the rodeo team. Pictures up in their bedrooms of shared bathtubs when they were still little, pillow forts with Nintendo 64 controllers in hand, vacations one or the other tagged along on, and dances where neither of them could think of someone else to go with. Neither of them could imagine a world where the other wasn’t in their life. It seemed impossible, when they had spent nearly their entire lives knowing and caring for and teasing one another.
Everyone expected, their parents included, that they would get together eventually. That they would finally realize that they loved each other as more than friends, bite the bullet, and start dating. But it never happened. High school came and went and the subject was never broached or even brought up once — even amongst their other friends.
Even though they both, at the time, secretly harbored crushes on the other. Little fleeting things they hoped would just go away with time. Because they were best friends. Had known each other forever. They couldn’t possibly be a couple. They would drive each other mad. Or at worst, it would ruin their friendship forever. And neither of them wanted to take that risk. So the crushes went away with time, and friends they remained.
The children of ranchers stuck together like glue.
Rhett had just finished helping Tessa move into her new place. A little cottage on her parents’ property that was entirely hers to do with whatever she wanted. Her own place after living at home for twenty-three years. She didn’t think it was that special. She was still living on her parents’ land and even renting from her parents, but Rhett thought she was lucky. She was out of the house, with her own space but still some responsibility. He would kill just to have one of the lofts in a barn to himself. But he was happy for her, even if he was a little jealous.
It was late by the time he pulled out of her driveway, the sun dipped low below the horizon and the moon hanging high in the sky. If they were younger, he would have just stayed the night. Not caring or even thinking about the implications of it. But now he was older. Now, he understood that Tessa was a woman, in every sense of the word. With soft curves and pink lips and zero inhibitions about being as close to him as possible. Now, he knew what all that could mean — what it meant to stay the night with a woman like that.
And he knew Tessa didn’t want that from him. Never has, and never would.
Even if that twisted up something inside him he refused to understand.
But, he was about halfway home when his phone started to ring with a call from her. A picture of her sitting on top of her horse grinning ear to ear back at him greeting him as he picked his phone up from the cupholder.
“Hey, sunshine, I forget somethin’?” he questioned, small smile on his face as he answered her call.
“Um, no…” Tessa answered, voice sounding small and a little afraid.
Rhett sat up straighter as he drove, prepared to pull over or turn around at any second. “Wha’s wrong?”
“S’nothing,” she replied instantly, but when he didn’t say anything back she sighed and went on. “I jus’ feel weird bein’ here alone, s’all.”
His shoulders relaxed, his grip on the wheel loosened. He should have known she would react like this to her first night alone. Tessa might have been on the quieter side, but she was a creature of the den. She liked when there were people around, noise and comfort. Knowing that she wasn’t alone. But there she was, all alone in a little two bedroom cottage for the first time in her life.
“Y’r parents’re righ’down the road,” he said lightly, even as he pulled over into the shoulder and made sure no one was coming up or down the dark road.
He knew what she was going to ask before she even had to say it.
“I know, but —” There was a pause as she sighed, Rhett could practically see her in his mind’s eye standing there with the phone pressed to her ear, bottom lip caught strong between her teeth. “Can you stay the night? Jus’this first night. Please?”
“M’already turned around. Be there in ten,” he said, pulling back out onto the road. “I better get extra pay f’r this.”
Her laugh, soft and gentle through the phone, was like music to him. “How ‘bout I have hot chocolate ready when ya get here?”
“Yeah, that’ll work. N’breakfast in the mornin’?”
“Yes, n’breakfast in the mornin’, ya bottomless pit,” she laughed again.
“Wait, you even have eggs?”
“Yeah.” He heard the fridge open in the background. “Ma insisted we stock up the fridge n’cabinets before we moved any’a my stuff in.”
They stayed on the phone and talked until Rhett pulled back into her driveway. He didn’t need to ask to know that she wanted him to stay on the line until he got there. He just knew.
He didn’t even knock before he came inside. Just pushed open the door and took off his shoes, greeted by the smells of hot chocolate and Tessa humming under her breath as she stirred the pot it was in. Always from scratch, never from a packet with her. She smiled over her shoulder at him as he approached, pushing his hair back from his face with a returning grin.
It felt…Domestic in some way. Her standing in the kitchen, him coming home to her, the house all to themselves. Rhett wasn’t the type to imagine things often, save for a ride he was minutes from undertaking. But he could just picture coming up behind her and wrapping her up in his arms. Pressing kisses into her neck just to make her laugh. Making her sway to the song that wasn’t playing but they both heard. Coming home to her every day for the rest of his life. It felt so real, so effortless for him to do. For them to do. As he approached, he nearly did just what he imagined. His arms instinctively reached for her. It swelled up something inside him that, again, he refused to understand. He refused to acknowledge as he got down the mugs he put away only hours before instead of living out his fantasy.
“Thank you, f’r comin’,” Tessa said quietly as she ladeled out the steaming beverage into each of their mugs.
Rhett shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Y’called.”
They drank their hot chocolate in relative silence. She didn’t have all her furniture yet, so they had to squeeze together on an oversized armchair and watch some crime show on her laptop. She leaned her head on his chest, their legs tangled together as they somehow managed to sit comfortably, and again there was that feeling. That fantasy bubbling up in Rhett’s mind. His heart. His gut. How he could so easily put his arm around her and press his lips to her head. How some part of him wanted to end every day just like this. With her by his side. How he could just so, so easily pull her into his lap and kiss her like he’s always wanted.
Like he’s always wanted? Rhett fidgeted with his empty mug, completely lost on the plot of the show in front of him. Has he always wanted to kiss her? Love her as more than a friend?
Has he been in love with her his entire life and has only just now realized it?
A kind of heat he wasn’t familiar with flooded his chest as the idea dawned on him. As the answer hit him with the force of a raging bull. Because of course he’s spent his entire life loving her. What else was he supposed to do? It’s almost what he was made for. To love Tessa Abernathy. The girl who ran away to look at ducklings with him. The girl who encouraged him to follow his dreams of becoming a bull rider in the first place. The girl who took care of him when he broke his ankle and his arm at the same time. The girl who forced him to go to prom. The girl who had spent her whole life loving him, too.
When the episode was finished and both of their mugs were emptied, Tessa disappeared to wash them out and put them in the sink. Then she came back to where he was still leaned back and spread legged in the chair with a sleepy smile.
“Y’ready f’r bed?” she asked.
He blinked up at her for a second. Could nearly picture her reaching out a hand, ready to drag him to their shared room where they could hide under the blankets from the world. But she wasn’t doing that. She was just looking at him with that tired smile and her hands messing with the hem of her shirt.
“Yeah,” he finally sighed as he pulled himself from the armchair. “Got any clothes f’r me?”
“You sleep in y’r boxers,” she pointed out, even as she led him back to her room, the bigger one on the right side of the hall.
She only had a full bed and a box spring for now. Little by little she would buy all the furniture she needed for the place, make it her own. Earlier in the day, Rhett thought her excitement about her own place and having her own furniture was endearing. Maybe even cute. But now he couldn’t stop thinking about going with her to test out bed frames and couches, moving it all in his truck and getting thanked for a job well done with a few kisses. Rhett shook his head as he followed her into the sparse room, pushing a hand through his hair again.
He needed to get his head on straight. Tessa was just a friend. His best friend. Always had. Always would be.
And there was that twisting in his chest again. Sharp and brutal as a knife.
How could he spend his whole life loving her and be just her friend?
“S’cold,” he explained simply, “N’it’ll be even colder out on that armchair.”
She looked over at him with a furrowed brow as she opened one of her boxes of clothes. “M’not makin’ you sleep on that thing.”
“Where’m I sleepin’ then? The floor?”
“In here — on the bed — with me,” she said it simply, like it didn’t crush something in his chest.
“Tess…” He tried to think of what to say, how to excuse himself from having to share a bed with her when it was all he wanted to do.
“Oh, com’on. We used t’do it all the time as kids,” she argued, not finding what she was looking for in the first box and opening another.
“Yeah, cause we were kids.”
“S’not like this’s any different.”
Her words felt final, like there was nothing more he could say that would make her change her mind. And Rhett didn’t know if he wanted to make her change her mind. So instead, he stood there and stared at the bed they would soon be sharing. Just like when they were kids. No big deal.
After a minute of digging through a few boxes, Tessa presented him with an old pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt from the high school rodeo team. Also his. He narrowed his eyes at her as he took the proffered clothes she had clearly stolen at one point or another. But she just rolled her eyes — he couldn’t tell if the blush on her cheeks was him imagining things again or not.
Again, they got ready for bed in silence. Moving around each other like they had been doing it for years. Tessa offered the spare toothbrush she had for when she needed to change out her own. But all the while, something was building and twisting and knotting itself in Rhett’s gut. Anticipation? Worry? Guilt? Desire? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
He just wanted to get through what was bound to be a sleepless night in the same bed as his best friend. Just so she didn’t feel alone. Just so she felt comfortable and safe. God, he would do anything to make her feel that way. Even if it left him uncomfortable and wanting.
Even if it made their little world crumble down around them.
“Y’re in Montana nex’week right? Big rodeo up there?” she questioned as she pulled back the covers, an extra on her side so she wouldn’t get cold.
“Yeah,” Rhett replied, pushing back his hair again. “Migh’even’ave a chance t’win big.”
“Maybe I could…Go with ya r’somethin’,” she spoke bashfully, sitting down by her pillow.
He gave her a look. “Thought y’had that big girl job now — they just gonna let ya have a week off?”
“S’all remote work. Imputin’ numbers and balancin’ books — borin’ but it pays. I could, I don’know, work at the hotel durin’ the day when I have to n’then be there at the rodeo at night.”
“Could be fun,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “Like the good ole days.”
“C’n even sneak down t’the pool past closin’, if ya really wanna relive those days,” she chuckled lightly, picking at the sheets.
“If’s the good ole days we’re both drunk on straight vodka, which, honestly…” Rhett groaned as he laid down on his side of the bed. “The memory of makes me wanna hurl.”
“Yeah, might be too old f’r that bit now.”
They both laughed at that. It was true, they were getting older. Tessa got a degree and was working a full time job now. They still probably drank and partied too much, but they hardly ever stayed out past midnight anymore. Pretty soon they would be sipping wine or IPAs at dinner and not staying out past nine. The idea, despite Rhett not regretting a single thing about how he lived his life save for still living at home, sounded nice to him. If he was sipping wine and IPAs at dinner with her. If he was calling it a night and curling up on the couch to watch TV with her.
He wanted to do anything and everything with her.
But then he noticed her sheets.
“Hol’on, y’still have these sheets?” he asked incredulously as he pulled part of the fitted sheet up to a point, looking up at her with a smile and a raised brow.
“Back off, I still like these,” she replied, cheeks pink as she shoved at his shoulder.
They were green and fleece, which were both fine, especially now that it was getting colder out. Rhett’s only complaint, and really his only tease, was that they were covered in little cartoon dogs. And he remembered them being on her bed when she was twelve. That was over a decade ago and she still had them on her bed. Rhett grinned at her again as he worked on straightening out the wrinkle he had made.
“I don’know how I feel abou’sleepin’ on ten year ol’ doggy sheets,” he prodded.
“Jus’do it doggy style then,” she replied.
Then went red in the face, shifting her blue eyes over at him with her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what she said. They both knew what she meant and also what it sounded like. And usually, Rhett would have just gone on teasing her. Disipated the tension by pointing out what she just said and bringing it up for the next several days. But he just couldn’t. Not when it felt like there something lodged in his throat and he was just now noticing her warm thigh pressed up against his own.
Not when his imagination, suddenly so active, was showing him images of Tessa, his best friend he’s known since he was four, on her hands and knees for him. Her skin bare and sweating, a forming bite mark on her ass, her back arched, and whining high in her throat for him to come closer. Just to come closer. Looking back over her shoulder at him, so much like she did in the kitchen, only now her eyes were glazed over and she was begging him to be inside her. Filling her. Loving her.
Rhett coughed awkwardly as he pulled the covers up over his lap.
“Well, good night,” Tessa offered quickly, voice high-pitched and her cheeks still bright red as she turned off the cheap lamp on the floor beside the bed.
Then she flopped down onto the bed beside him, blankets yanked up to her shoulders as she curled up on her side. Facing away from him. And he tried his best to just lay back on his pillow and go to sleep. He really did. But how could he when his mind wouldn’t stop and the object of all his desires was laying right next to him? When he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her and kissing her and kissing her and kissing her? When he could feel the heat coming off of her skin and she was so close he could nearly touch her? There was no way he was making it through this sleepless night now. Not when all of it, his desire and his love and his years of longing, were bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. Like a pot about to boil over on the stove.
Before he even knew what he was doing, he was rolled over onto his side and tugging at her arm. She rolled over to face him without any fight, just a sigh like she knew this was coming.
“Look, I get it what I said was dumb —”
“Sunshine, I — I can’t do this,” he muttered out as he looked at her face in the blue light of darkness.
She just looked at him confused. “Do what?”
He didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know how to articulate anything that was on his mind or on his heart. His mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to find the words that would speak it all into existence. But it just wouldn’t come. He couldn’t force it, even if he tried. It was all blank save for the pulsing need between his legs. His need for her. That really had been there all along. Even when he didn’t know it.
So instead, he reached out for her and blindly took her hand beneath the covers. The furrow between her brows seemed to deepen as he dragged her hand across the small distance between them. But her mouth popped open and her chest heaved when he pressed the palm of her hand against the bulge in his sweats.
“R-Rhett…” she whispered, voice wavering and unreadable.
“F-Fuck, please, sunshine,” he breathed back, pushing further into her hand, further into her space. “I-I can’t anymore, please. Need you. Need you.”
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#oc: tessa abernathy#fic: my whole life loving you#fd: outer range#rhett abbott#rhett abbott x oc#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott fanfic#rhett abbott fic#outer range#outer range imagine#outer range fic#ocapp#fic request#filled prompt#rhett abbott x tessa abernathy#lewis pullman
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Carry On prompts FINAL Masterlist
Carry On Prompts is a place to anonymously (or not) post fanfic and fanart prompts related to Rainbow Rowell's 'Simon Snow Trilogy' and 'Fangirl'.
The fest is now over, but you can fill any prompt you want from the blog at any time. You can also leave prompts and someone might fill them.
These prompts were filled between 15th September and 15th October 2022.
Teen
The Long Way Down by @onepintobean. Teen, 1.5k, WIP. For the prompt: . Hadestown: Baz is Orpheus and Simon is Eurydice (obviously).
The Wellbeloves (art! comic!) by @ionlydrinkhotwater. Teen, 15 chapters, Complete. For the prompt: Can you imagine if they had adopted him instead? He and Agatha would have been legit siblings and could have like fought over Baz, etc
A Charity Case by @nightimedreamersworld. Teen, 4.7k, WIP. For the prompt: Probably post Watford but they didn't get together. Baz is forced to take part in some sort of Old Family charity auction. etc
Your Time Starts Now by @onepintobean. Teen, 4.5k, WIP. For the prompt: AU where Simon and Baz are on opposing teams on a TV game show and Baz expects to win easily, etc
We Still Bloom by @artsyunderstudy. Teen, 18k, Complete. For the prompt: WS / early AWTWB era - Hanahaki disease but it's during Simon and Baz's lowest point of their relationship, etc
The Beautiful Game by @fatalfangirl. Teen, 8k, WIP. For the prompt: Baz and Simon playing football together.
Unlucky by HereBeChickens. Teen, 1.5k, Complete. For the prompt: Soulmate au where you relive your first kiss with your soulmate through your soulmate's eyes when you reach a certain (to be determined) age
We Got a Good Thing Going by @facewithoutheart - Teen, 3.8k, Complete. For the prompt: Accidentally Married and Accidental Eaves Dropping, etc
what once was mine by @dragoneggo - Teen, 6k, For the prompt: An agoraphobic prince is sick and tired of knights breaking into his tower and trying to slay his emotional support dragon
A Dangerous Affinity by @larkral - Teen, 27k, WIP. For the prompt: A deadly Education crossover. Simon, Penny and Baz do not attend Watford, They go the scholomance instead. etc
Mature or Explicit
Our Happily Ever After by @yeonjunenby. Explicit, 5k, WIP. For the prompt: Please give me more stories with the following tags- 1.) Enemies to Lovers 2.) Canon-Divergence 3.)Mutual Pining 4.)Getting together 5.) Magickal Mishaps 6.) Watford-Era
This Is Your Place by @cutestkilla. Mature, 18k, Complete. For the prompt: Omg Simon is such a ho, in retaliation for Baz pulling the open sesame move, he dashes to their room, showers, shaves etc
Explicit art by @ic3-que3n. Explicit, art, Complete. For the prompt: hair-pulling kink
Ready or Not by @bookish-bogwitch. Explicit, 5k, WIP. For the prompt: NSFW magickal mishap based on the spell Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient come all the same. etc
Work It by @captain-aralias. Explicit, 3.8k, Complete. For the prompt: The spell 'Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings' has to be reversed in order to vanish Simon's wings. I propose that this suggests the existence of a spell, etc
All His Dragon-y Glory by @aroace-genderfluid-sheep. Explicit, 1k, Complete. For the prompt: Simon grew cute little horns
silver tongue by @aroace-genderfluid-sheep – Explicit, 5.5k, Complete. For the prompt: Simon gets a silver tongue piercing, unaware that vampires are allergic to silver until Baz has an allergic reaction. etc
Thank Magic (Thank Niamh) by @captain-aralias - Explicit, Brobelove, 2.7k. Complete. For the prompt: Agatha and Niamh decide to ~take things further~ but there's a miscommunication so they both end up in the bedroom w strap-ons on. etc
Check out other filled prompts
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I just reread your fic about Tai and Van after their class reunion, and the line about Tai imagining how they would be after prom got me thinking. I totally wouldn’t mind reading an au where they actually got to attend their senior prom. I know you have so many wips that I honestly can’t wait to read, so this doesn’t have to be acknowledged whatsoever, but I also would love to see what you come up with.
Hey, remember when I said no promises? Promises are right over here, actually.
#ask#filled prompt#i do need everyone to know this was just floating around at the back of my head for a few days#and then i took a sleep aid and instead of sleeping it made my brain explode#i have the most unhinged little draft note about this story and had no choice but to write it when my cognitive functioning returned#thank you for the prompt! back to my...other 900 projects now
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"doing an activity you’re both terrible at, for a good old laugh" for willex for the date prompts? 👀
I'm so sorry this took so long... But here ya go! Hope you like it!
It started, as so many things do, with a joke.
Reggie had asked Alex about how his date with Willie had gone the night before, and Alex had told him about poofing up to Portland to see the tour cast of Frozen. He and Willie had been watching clips of Let It Go on YouTube and it had been driving them both crazy that they couldn't figure out how they did her dress transformation. So naturally, they went backstage and watched the whole process.
It had been an amazing evening, and Willie had pressed a soft kiss to his lips outside the studio before heading back to the now safe and improved HGC.
But when Reggie heard about it, he laughed and made a joke about how the two of them could never seem to go on 'normal' dates.
Alex knew his best friend hadn't been trying to be mean, or even really thinking about the words, but they’d stuck in his head. Which was why a list of top date ideas was open on the laptop Julie had set up for him and the other guys. Willie deserved the best the afterlife had to offer, and Alex wanted to make all of the sweet, cheesy date dreams that ever existed come true for his lovely partner. But the issue with the list was that most of the things listed were either boring or just wouldn’t work logically for them, either as people or as a pair of ghosts.
“Try out a new restaurant?” It wasn’t like they could make themselves visible and tangible for long enough to make that work.
“Sit down for a nice cup of coffee?” Dull and very overdone. Plus, now that Dante and Fuego had taken over running the HGC following Caleb’s downfall, the two of them had nice drinks all the time.
“Go to the beach?” They did that all the time, either just the two of them or with the rest of their friends.
“Throw a casino night?”
Alex groaned and shut the laptop. The two of them had more than enough of gambling after Willie accidentally signed their soul away, almost 35 years ago. He set his laptop on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. This was hopeless. And pointless. It wasn’t like the two of them weren’t having fun on their dates. Alex was pretty sure he would enjoy pretty much anything as long as he was doing it with Willie.
As if the thought had summoned his boyfriend, the air in front of Alex rippled as Willie poofed in.
“Hey Lex, what’s up?” the skater asked cheerfully.
Alex returned the bright smile and grabbed Willie’s hand to yank them down onto the couch with him. “Not much,” he answered once Willie was curled into his side. “Trying to figure out what ‘normal’ people do on dates.”
Willie stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “I mean, who needs normal when you’re dead and gay?” he joked. Then his tone got a bit more serious. “I love our time together, Alex. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing as long as I’m with you.”
Alex felt his cheeks flush at Willie’s repetition of his earlier thought. He leaned in and kissed Willie gently, reveling in the warmth of their lips.
Then Willie pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. “So, can I see the normal people date research?”
Alex chuckled and grabbed the laptop with one hand, keeping the other arm wrapped securely around Willie’s shoulders. It took a second to get it turned on and pull up the list, but soon they were huddled together over the list, laughing.
“I don’t think campfires are legal this time of year in the city…” Alex pointed out when they got to number 10.
“If we wanted to look at antiques, we could just go hang out at the HGC for a while,” Willie joked, looking at idea 17. “Caleb left behind all kinds of weird stuff when he got banished.”
“We’re too ace for reading steamy romance novels to really do much,” Alex mused at 21.
“No, we’re just too sarcastic,” Willie teased, poking Alex in the side.
“Who needs an open house to explore other people’s houses?” Willie mused a few minutes later when they hit number 28.
“We can’t do bar trivia, we’re both underaged,” Alex said in regard to number 40. Willie opened his mouth to protest, but Alex just smirked and stole a kiss instead.
“I skate all the time,” Willie laughed at number 50. “I’d probably be flying in circles around you on the ice rink.”
“Have you never been?” Alex asked, caught off guard. Ice skating seemed like something Willie would love.
“Never had a reason to,” Willie responded with a shrug. “So who knows, maybe you’re a secret figure skater and you’ll be doing fancy jumps over my head or something.”
“Hardly,” Alex chuckled. “I’ve never been either.”
“Okay, it’s decided!” Willie exclaimed, pushing themselves up off the couch and grabbing Alex’s hands. “We’re going ice skating.”
“Right now?” Alex asked, setting the laptop to the side as Willie pulled him to his feet.
“Yeah why not?” Willie responded, grinning. “You’re free till dinner right?”
Alex glanced around the studio. Luke was visiting his parents and Julie and Reggie had gone to one of Carlos’s baseball games, so there wasn’t anyone to make him stay. “Yeah, let’s go,” he decided, lacing his fingers through Willie’s.
The world spun for a moment as Willie poofed them to a large mall. “I think they have a rink here,” they explained as the two of them wandered inside.
It took them a while to find the booth of skate rentals, but once they made it in, it was fairly easy to find skates that fit. Thank God for sizing charts all over the place.
“These already hurt my ankles,” Alex chuckled as he stood up.
“Well that’s just cause-” Willie started, then broke off as he almost fell into Alex. “Woah, okay, this doesn’t feel stable,” they stated, holding Alex’s arm for support.
“Agreed,” Alex muttered, wobbling a bit on his own skates. “Maybe it’ll be better once we’re on the ice?”
“Here’s to hoping,” Willie answered, carefully stepping forward toward the open gate.
It was, in fact, not better on the ice. Alex was pretty sure his feet had been attached to little motors going opposite directions. They kept sliding away from each other and making him almost fall.
“How is this so hard?” he complained, gripping the wall.
“I don’t know,” Willie groaned, trying to slide forward without his feet slipping out from under him.
Alex kept a hand firmly on the wall, but managed to glance over his shoulder at his partner. Willie’s cheeks were a bit flushed from the cool air of the rink and their hair fell loose and free around their shoulders, framing his face. Even while wobbling like a baby giraffe just discovering its legs, he was beautiful.
“See something you like?” Willie smirked, catching him staring.
“Just my boyfriend,” Alex shot back, grinning at the way their face turned red at the term. They were more of a flirt than he was, but Alex still knew just how to fluster him.
“Shut up.” Willie moved forward, trying to shove Alex, but suddenly their feet slipped out from under them.
He yelped as he fell, grabbing at Alex’s arm in an attempt to steady himself but just pulling both of them down to the cold ice instead. Alex banged his elbow painfully against the ice, wincing as he sat up.
“Wow, this is what I get for being sweet,” Alex said sarcastically, though he couldn’t quite keep his smile down. Sue him, he liked doing things with his partner, even if said things sent tingles through his arm from a jolted funny bone.
“Should teach you to leave the flirting to me,” Willie joked. They tried to get a foot under them to get back up, but it immediately slid away from their body on the slick ice. “Why is this so hard?” he demanded.
“I have no idea,” Alex laughed. He managed to scoot over to the wall, hoping that something to hold onto would help him get up, but his feet just refused to stay still. “I figured you’d be good at this, even if I wasn’t,” he admitted. “You’re the skater boy.”
“I was guessing you’d kill this,” Willie responded a bit sheepishly. “You have way more actual dance training. I just worked with Caleb for forever. Figure skating is basically dancing, right?”
“But like… with ten pound weights attached to your feet apparently,” Alex agreed. “How in the world do they do all those fancy jumps and stuff like this?”
Willie shrugged, clueless, then joined him by the wall. “Maybe if we help each other, we can get up?” they suggested. “Like I’ll use my feet to keep your feet in place, and then you can give me a hand up?”
Alex nodded, shifting to try and get his feet under him again. It took them a few tries, but eventually they were able to stumble back onto the narrow blades of their skates. They resumed their slow circle of the rink, now clinging to the wall even tighter.
“How do you move forward without using the wall?” Alex asked a few minutes later as he tried and failed to get any momentum outside of using his hands to push off.
“I think you kinda lean forward?” Willie responded uncertainly. “That’s what the cool people in the middle are doing at least… I think.”
Alex turned to watch the more advanced skaters doing spins and leaps in the center of the rink. They did seem to be leaning forward a lot. He turned back to the wall, trying to lean forward like they were doing.
“Hey, I think I’m getting it!” he exclaimed, finding a rhythm and sliding along near the wall. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could even let go of the wall for-
“Oof,” he huffed as he fell onto the ice. He glanced up at Willie sheepishly. “I fell,” he said, though that was probably really obvious.
“Hey, you were really going there for a second though,” Willie chuckled, keeping his death grip on the wall with one hand as he offered the other to Alex to help him up.
And so it continued, with them beginning to settle into the motion and then falling down again and again. By the time the alarms beeped to clear the ice for resurfacing, they were both worn out and banged up and their fingers and toes were frozen solid. But they were both laughing, and they clung to each other’s hands as they stumbled to a bench to remove their skates.
“Let’s never do that again,” Alex said decisively as he pulled his aching feet from the hard plastic of the skates.
“Agreed,” Willie answered, sitting crisscrossed on the bench and shivering. “I’d like to keep my reputation as a cool skater person.”
Alex stood and grabbed both sets of skates, his damp socks feeling strange on the weird plastic of the floor. He poofed over to the skate rental booth and found the places they’d snagged the shoes from to return them. When he got back to his partner, they’d grabbed their real shoes and were lacing up their beat up Vans. Alex dropped down beside him and tugged on his own sneakers.
“You know what today needs?” Willie said suddenly, sitting up. Alex looked up, eyebrows raised in question. “Hot chocolate,” Willie stated. “Nice warm drinks to warm the ice formed in our souls by our defeat in this massive place of ice and… spending too much money?”
Alex stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. Willie joined him after a second, leaning on Alex’s shoulder as they giggled. “You’re so right,” Alex said once they had their breath back. He pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to his boyfriend. “Shall we head back to the Molinas’ then?”
“After you, hotdog,” Willie answered, taking Alex’s hand and standing.
They poofed back to the Molina house, glad to find the kitchen empty of humans or ghosts. Alex grabbed the milk out of the fridge while Willie found the cocoa powder and the sugar. They mixed the ingredients together in a small glass pitcher, then placed it in the microwave to heat up.
“I’m still kinda cold,” Willie mused as they waited, leaning back against the counter. He shot a smirk at Alex. “Think you could help me?”
“Hmmm, I think there’s some blankets in the living room,” Alex teased, even as he moved into Willie’s space, pressing him back against the counter. “That could do the trick nicely I think.”
“Well me having blankets wouldn’t help you though,” Willie countered, hands snaking around Alex’s neck. They brushed a finger against the sensitive skin under Alex’s ear, making him shiver. “See, you’re cold,” they smirked.
“Maybe we just need to turn up the thermostat,” Alex returned, leaning in closer, his mouth only inches from Willie’s.
“Then Julie would get mad,” Willie pointed out.
Alex could feel his words against his skin. Eh, he could give in this time. He leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips against Willie’s. Willie sighed as he pulled Alex closer, fingers tangling in his hair as they kissed. Alex relaxed into Willie as he deepened the kiss, letting them chase away the last of the lingering chill from the ice rink.
Just then, the microwave beeped, telling them the cocoa was done. Alex pulled back a little reluctantly, not bothering to remove one hand from Willie’s hip as he reached over to pull the pitcher out onto the counter. Willie turned around to grab two mugs from the cabinet, leaning back against Alex’s chest as he set them on the countertop as if unwilling to lose the contact. Alex snaked his arms around Willie’s waist to pour the cocoa, not wanting to let go of his partner.
“You know, I might not mind going ice skating again if it ends like this,” Alex commented softly as they settled on the couch with their steaming mugs.
Willie snuggled into his side and threw one leg over his lap. “But see, we could just… skip all the falling and shivering and bruises and start at this part instead,” they proposed, grinning.
“You make a good point,” Alex laughed, setting his mug down to guide them into another kiss.
Yeah, it had started as a joke, but Alex thought it had turned out pretty well.
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Tumblr prompt “Do it I dare you"
“Do it I dare you.” Caleb smirks wickedly, innocently swinging his legs out of time over the edge of the cliff. Joey scoffs in response and leans back to look out at the midday sky.
“It's way too high up, I'd get myself killed.”
Caleb tuts, “It's like, ten metres buddy. Into *water*. Unless you plan on belly flopping…” He tried to raise one eyebrow to mock his friend but ends up with a stunned look on his face. Joey smothers a laugh at the expression.
“Just cannonball it. You'll be fine! Camilla told me that she’s done it.”
“Camilla lies to you because she knows you’re gullible,” Joey retorts, his voice wavering at the end when he peers over the edge of the cliff curiously. Caleb doesn’t notice and gasps, clutching at his chest dramatically.
“She wouldn’t! She’s my friend!”
“And *my* friend is trying to make me jump off a cliff. I think both of us would benefit from making new ones.” Caleb laughs with his whole body then, head thrown back and shoulders shaking.
“Fine.” Caleb says when he’s collected himself again. Then he stands and makes a show of stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll go first.” He takes long steps backwards until his back hits the next cliff face behind them, winks at Joey, and bolts forward. He jumps at the last second and shouts some nonsense that’s lost into the wind as he falls.
Joey’s heart jumps and he scrambles forward on his hands and knees, the tiny stones on the hiking trail cutting into his palms as he goes. He holds his breath as he stares over the edge to see a large white dot in the waves appear, then Caleb’s head comes up and Joey sighs. The boy’s warm brown skin shines in the sun, and he waves his arms and tries to shout something again, but again, it was lost. Joey’s relief escapes him in a sudden laugh, until he’s bent over cackling at the sea below him.
*Alright, my turn*, he thinks as he stands and tugs off his hoodie, plain tee and shoes. He steps back to the cliff face like Caleb did and blows a stray blonde hair out of his eyes as he steels himself.
Joey’s momentum carries him much further out than he’d expected from a short run. There’s a dizzying moment in the air where he feels like he’s just hanging in the cold air like a big blonde cloud that will be swept away by the force of the wind. Then he’s falling. He cries out, his shout echoing against the cliffs, until he’s swallowed by the sea and flailing uselessly.
Caleb is there. Well, his hand is, and he pulls the bigger boy up to the surface. Joey sucks in huge gasping breaths, and his hands shake as he lets go of Caleb’s hand and pushes his fringe out of his face. Caleb is grinning wide enough to hurt his cheeks and in a moment that’s very unlike the young boy, he stays quiet.
The smile is infectious though, or at least the adrenaline of the jump has gotten to Joey’s mind, because he grins back just as wide and his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
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OCtober Day 1: Bat
[ @theworldofprompts is hosting a great OC-tober list and I will try to join in this year. Here you can meet Velorum, a young girl in a fantasy setting. Enjoy!]
Fitting in can be scary. It doesn’t matter how old you are; whether it’s a new job, or strangers at a party, or your first day of 4th grade. The apprehension climbs up your spine. Your words get stuck in your throat.
And then there’s the stares. You enter the room and you fear you stand out, and faces turn to see. You’re certain their eyes dig into you, you’re certain you stick out, you’re certain you’ll never fit in here.
Velorum Navis feels this all too keenly when she transfers schools. She is too young to know why her parents live on the outskirts of town or why they don’t invite guests over. She is too young to know why her parents trained her at home for three years before letting her go to public school. But she knows she is a magical oddity, and meeting her classmates only makes this more apparent.
The benefit of living in the slums by the border is that strange magic can lead to strange appearances. Velorum is hardly the only kid who doesn’t look elvish. But even then, the other kids stare when she is introduced.
Her vacant eyes are solid black, so her new classmates have no idea which way she is looking as she blinks shyly back at them. Her strawberry blonde hair floats around her cheeks, defying gravity. She tugs nervously at a piece of hair, hoping to cover the sides of her face where normal kids have ears. The lights in the classroom are bright like a hospital, hiding the fact that her hair gives off its own soft glow. Tiny spots seem to wander with a mind of their own across her tan skin; her dad calls them freckles, but she knows they are nothing like her mom’s freckles.
Velorum had been so excited for school when she left the house this morning. She had put her favorite bows on her shoes, the ones shaped like very cute bats. She had worn her favorite leg warmers, the pitch black ones with the bugs on them, because she wanted her classmates to know she wasn’t afraid of bugs.
Well she is afraid now. But she doesn’t know that some of her classmates are more scared of her than she is of them.
And she doesn’t know that far away, her mother is also scared. Scared of letting her only child out into the wide world. Scared of being labeled a traitor and a threat. Scared that their family will lose control of their powers.
Fitting in can be scary.
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Chaos prompts: 42 for Alex, Luke and Reggie?
42. Bad and naughty children get wrapped up in the blanket burrito for their crimes.
Alex took calming breaths. He always expected a little chaos when they decided to crash at the studio. Chaos was a given, an inescapable fact. It didn’t change how overwhelmingly loud it could get though.
He wasn’t even sure what had triggered the current instance of chaos happening around him. He had allowed himself to be distracted long enough to microwave some bagel bites for dinner and he’d turned back around to find Luke and Reggie dashing around shouting nonsense. With a shake of his head he took his food to the couch.
Now he found himself in the eye of the hurricane as Reggie had decided to use him as a shield. He didn’t even have time to object, or express concern for his food. Luke lunged, Reggie dodged his knee hitting the plate and Alex watched as his dinner fell to the floor.
Alex’s head fell into his hands, and he counted to five. The idiots kept running and shouting. His food was ruined, and they were still playing cat and mouse. With their next pass, he blindly grabbed and began to wrestle whoever he managed to catch to the ground.
“Alex dude?” Luke shouted incredulously below him. RIght, what should he do now?
“Reg help me with that blanket, would you?” Alex grunted as he continued to wrestle Luke to the ground. Reggie’s confused pout was on full display but he attempted to hand Alex the blanket anyway. The pout quickly dissolved to a mischievous grin when Alex gestured his head to the ground by Luke.
“Wait, wha?” Luke managed, as he tried to fight Alex-and Reggie now that he’d spread the blanket on the ground-off of him.
“Naughty children get wrapped in the blanket burrito for their crimes.” Alex grit out. Reggie giggled as the two fought to wrap Luke in the blanket.
Luke feebly attempted to kick the two of them off. It was a losing battle when it was two to one. “Why am I getting burritoed? Reggie is the one who knocked your food down.”
“Hey.” Reggie released his grip in order to protest. Which gave Luke a window to kick the not quite tight enough blankets looser.
“Reggie!” Alex snapped and Reggie returned to the task of snugly rolling Luke in the blanket. Alex then chastised Luke, “You’re the ass who decided to chase him around the studio.”
Alex released a heavy sigh as he and Reggie finished wrapping Luke tightly in the blanket. Reggie was kneeling beside him grinning triumphantly through heaving breaths. That was until Alex turned a glare on the boy, “Right, about my bagel bites.”
“Oh shit.” Reggie’s face instantly fell and he tripped over the flannel tied to his waist as he tried to scurry away from Alex.
“Serves you right, traitor.” Luke called from where he was, cheek pressed to the studio floor, desperately wriggling to get himself free. The screams of Reggie now being chased by Alex through the studio rang in his ears. “Fucking hypocrite.”
________
Chaos Writing Prompt
JATP Fanfic Masterlist
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Fic request where Nick finds out Charlie is ticklish because he sees elle or another friend poke him while they’re all hanging out, when he gets Charlie alone next he explores it.
Then Charlie asks Nick if he’s ticklish, and nick says it’s been such a long time he’s not even sure! And not shockingly he’s super ticklish too. Very fluffy I know, no pressure on this I know it’s not too huge of a plot.
just posted a fic inspired by part of this prompt, hope you enjoy!
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Food is Good for the Core
~
Jason met Danny months ago when he stopped by one of the diners,
Danny was on his lunch break about to eat his ecto infused food when he felt someone with a starving proto-core enter his dinner, his head snapped towards the entrance his gaze locking onto a rather tall man with the expression of someone who was hangry for lack of better words.
His core chirped a greeting, he felt the mans proto-core rumble a barely there response.
The man stumbled towards him his eyes flashing green
"Wha-who are you?"
Once he was close enough Danny grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down onto the seat next to him, pushing his food towards him.
"There you go Firecracker, you look like you really need it"
Jason was about to protest not sure what was even happening when the smell of the food hit him, next thing he knows he's swallowing the last bite.
He leaned back staring
Just staring
He had't felt this satiated and calm since, well since a very long time.
"My name is Jason not Firecracker , now what the hell was in that? Why did I react like that?"
"Well Firecracker, my name is Danny and please tell me that you know that you ..uh died?"
-Time Skip-
"-And so basically you need ecto to be healthy and happy, did you understand all that?"
"Where will I need to go to find that?"
"No worries big guy, I'll make you the food free of charge and in the future I'll start showing you how to properly make it. Also you need to be careful with the ecto food, normal humans tend to act weird even with just a little taste to our foods."
~
Danny & Jason eating together getting along
Dick: "My baby brother has a friend and didn't tell me!"
~
Danny & Jason cooking together: "Oh that's why they say food is the way to a man's heart"
~
Danny & Jason being smitten with one another & starting to unconsciously do ghost courting things.
Oracle watching from the cameras: "What the fuck?!"
~
Dick being nosy realizing that Jason's new boyfriend is putting something into the food Jason and he eat that goes into an extremely secure case.
Dick being suspicious and investigating, manages to steal a bite feels super loopy and weird for the next few days
Dick: "I've connected the dots!"
Jason: "You didn't connect shit."
Dick: "I've connected them!"
Dick thinks they're doing drugs
~
Dick slamming the door open: "Jason is doing drugs!"
Tim: "That doesn't sound like him are you sure?"
Dick on the ground wailing
Tim: "..."
~
Just an Idea
#dp x dc#danny phantom#jason todd x danny fenton#ghost courting#shenanigans#dc x dp#dpxdc#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#prompt fill#story prompt#prompts#writing prompt#oracle#nightwing#dick grayson#batfamily#batbros#bat shenanigans#tim drake#red robin#jason todd#ghosts#ghost#ghost core
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An assassin with a speciality in dispatching super powered beings is hired to protect a blossoming rookie whose power, once properly trained, is predicted to turn the tides of the hero-villain conflict. (Bonus if they’ve also been hired by a separate party or kill them, and they’re unsure which order to follow through with)
Prompt courtesy of @thepenultimateword !
"Breath," the Assassin suggested, eyeing the rookie uncertainly as they quickly gathered up their knives out of their opponents. Their former opponents.
"I'm breathing," the Rookie wheezed, hands gripping their knees. "I've checked. Definitely breathing. My god, your hands. They're all- all-"
The Assassin wiped the blood off on their pants and hauled the Rookie close with their offhand. The attackers were down but who could say if that wasn't just the first wave?
"You need to transport us out of here," they murmured to the Rookie. "Can you do that?"
The Rookie locked their arms around the Assassin's neck. "I couldn't hurt them," they gasped. Their breath, hot against the Assassin's throat, was somehow still speeding up. "I'm sorry, I couldn't use the power-"
"And that was the right choice," the Assassin said with total and honest conviction. They'd seen the Rookie in training. From three clicks away. In a bunker. "You're not a weapon yet, kid. But you are our exit." Shadows moved in suspicious patterns. The Assassin chucked their empty clip, slammed in the next one from their belt one-handed. Stay calm. "Breath, kid. Think of somewhere safe and take us-"
The world warped around them. For a horrible moment the Assassin felt themselves stretch and warp too - and then the world snapped back into a new shape.
The Assassin and the Rookie tumbled to a softly carpeted floor. The dim room came into focus: a rug, looped with letters and numbers. Colorful walls, low shelves filled with baskets of toys and picture books...
"A preschool?" The Assassin sat up. It was dark here too but a pre-dawn, peaceful kind of dark.
The Rookie's breath was slowing, finally, their nose pressed to the gritty fibers. "Daycare," they said.
The Assassin started to reach for them - then thought better of it. They stood and made for the tall, adult sized cabinets. Wet wipes got the rest of the blood off, then there was a full first-aid kit and bags of emergency food. Now they returned to the Rookie with their prizes, smelling of disinfectant.
"Drink," they said, dropping a couple juice boxes on the Rookie's head. "Are you hurt? There's Pokémon bandages."
"Ow," the Rookie muttered but took a box. For a moment they both sucked down apple juice in silence. The Assassin made a mental note - daycares and preschools as makeshift safe houses, while figuring out how to hide their tracks - stage an animal break-in to the food? - when the Rookie cleared their throat.
"You didn't have to - why did you -?"
"I didn't have to kill them?" the Assassin guessed. They took the silence as yes. "Definitely did. Those weren't muggers, that was two of Supervillain's mid powered killers. You noticed how they were trying to kill you?"
"That's not how heroes fight!" The Rookie pushed up to their feet stubbornly. They didn't look particularly steady. "We fight to incapacitate, to defend."
"Maybe that's why your hero squad hired me to watch you," the Assassin said.
The Rookie's mouth opened and closed as they worked that one over in their head. "You think they hired you to... to send a message?" they said quietly.
The Assassin tossed the bag of boxed raisins and cheap granola bars at the Rookie's chest and let themselves collapse onto a pile of gym mats. "Shouldn't happen again anytime soon," they said gruffly. "(Supervillain)'s gonna have a harder time finding volunteers for the next kill squad..." Then their stupid, tired brain actually heard what the Rookie had just said. They sat up fast enough to make the kid flinch. "What do you think they hired me for?"
"In case I..." The Rookie's eyes dropped. "Well. In case something goes wrong..."
With me, was the unspoken end of that sentence. The Assassin's stomach gave another lurch.
"Just cause they pay me to do bad things doesn't mean I'd do anything for money," the Assassin snapped.
Another long silence. The Rookie's eyes widened slight, but they were smart enough to say nothing. The Assassin lay back, closed their eyes again. "We're both stressed and sore," they said. "Let's take a rest before we call for ground transport out of here. I suggest - no, I recommend that this conversation never happened."
The Assassin let the exhaustion take them. When they woke a few hours later, the Rookie was clearing up the last of the medical supplies.
"Let's go home," they said, face guarded, but their hand in Assassin's was warm and the squeeze real. The Assassin nodded and let the Rookie carry them back.
It was going to be really hard to keep lying, and more and more, the Assassin was realizing maybe, maybe, they could find a way to avoid it...
They were never taking a bodyguard gig again.
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rhett abbott x oc | an alternate universe
Summary: "we rented a place together with our friend group for vacation, but there are only double beds in every room and everyone else already found a sleeping partner" (wc: 2216)
Requested: YES by anon
Warnings: alcohol mention, there was only one bed trope, a little sexual tension, i made tess a virgin in this for reasons that cannot be explained, maria is here in the background...lurking
✎……MASTERLIST
It had been five years since high school graduation. And the Amelia County High School Rodeo Team class of 2015 decided to get together for a little reunion. Team captains, Taylor Goyer and Dalton Allen, organized the whole thing. Sent out invitations, made sure everyone paid them on time for tickets and group meals and the rental they were all staying at together.
They were turning the reunion into a real affair. A week long trip to Cheyenne for the Frontier Days. A nationally known two-week rodeo event that they all dreamed of participating in when they were teenagers. But now, most of them had given up on the rodeo life — working regular jobs with only fond memories of roping cattle, riding bareback, and wrestling steer.
Not to mention the mansion AirBnB monstrosity in Cheyenne they chose to rent. With a pool, seven bedrooms, and a kitchen big enough to feed an army. It cost a ridiculous amount, even split up between fourteen people.
They were going to trash the place, of that much Tessa Abernathy was certain. But at least they would all have fun together again. Just like those long bus rides to South Dakota or sneaking down to the hotel pool at midnight in Montana.
And despite her apprehensions about going, Tessa was excited about the trip. She hadn’t been to Frontier Days since she was a kid and even though there was always going to be a mess that needed cleaning at the rental, she was looking forward to hanging out with her old friends again.
But the excitement quickly drained from her when they got back from their first day at the Frontier — only just now getting inside their AirBnB at nearly midnight. A day filled with midway carnival rides, taste testing beers in the garden, and exploring old frontier town.
“You’ve got t’be kidding,” Tessa said to Taylor as everyone went their separate ways in the living room — to their beds for the night.
“Sorry babe,” Taylor spoke sympathetically with a hand on her shoulder. “But ya fell asleep on the ride over.”
“So that means I have t’room with him?” she whispered back, trying not to let him hear — because, even though she didn’t want to share a room with him, didn’t mean she wanted to hurt his feelings either.
Taylor laughed lightly. “S’s just Rhett. Not like he’s gonna murder ya.”
“But — But y’said each room only has a double…” Tessa shifted her eyes over to him warily. “He’s a guy.”
He was standing at the bottom of the stairs. Duffle bag at his booted feet. At this moment, she hated to admit that he looked good. Really good. Wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt from an old rodeo, trucker-cap on his head covering those dark brown curls that stuck out the back. The veins in his forearms and the backs of his hands standing out in stark contrast in the dim light of the foyer. She also hated that he was being nice enough to wait on her.
It sparked to life something that had been living inside her since she was fourteen. An adolescent crush she thought had been snuffed out by time. But no. Apparently the only thing that was needed to bring it to life again was the prospect of sharing a bed with him. With Rhett Abbott. The only one of their old team who still lived the rodeo life. Who made a living off riding bulls and had the reputation to back it up. She was surprised he even signed up to come on this trip.
“Tess, look, y’re a big girl. If it bothers ya so much, y’can sleep on the couch down here.” Taylor gestured to the living room where a small mid-century modern leather atrocity sat waiting for her. “Be my guest.”
“Ugh, fine.”
With a roll of her eyes and a heat in her cheeks she begged to God would go away, she picked up her bag and headed for the stairs. Rhett smiled, small and unsure, as she passed him. But she didn’t dare look at him for more than a second. Would rather spare herself the embarrassment for the time being.
“Last door on the left!” Taylor called out and laughed when Tessa gave her a thumbs up back without looking.
The room, at least, was nice. Hardwood floors with a nice big rug, a window seat that overlooked the backyard, an ensuite bathroom shared with the room next to them, and a four-poster canopy bed with a fluffy comforter and pillows.
With a sigh, Tessa dropped her bag by the wardrobe shoved against the wall opposite the bed. Claiming at least one space for herself. Rhett followed in shortly after that, something tentative in his steps as he set his duffle down by the door and toed off his boots.
“Y’mind if I shut the door?” he asked quietly, voice a low grumble in his chest after a long day.
“Um — y-yeah, that’s fine,” she replied, nervously rubbing at the thighs of her jeans.
Rhett closed the door softly and suddenly she felt like there wasn’t enough space in the room. Not enough air. She moved away from him slowly, trying not to make it obvious, and towards the large window. Feigning wanting to look at the view.
“Look, I, uh…I don’wanna make ya uncomfortable,” he started slowly and she turned to him with furrowed brows, listening. “I c’n jus’ — sleep on the floor’re somethin’.”
Tessa immediately shook her head. “No, m’not gonna make y’do that. N’that couch downstairs looks about as uncomfortable as these floors, so…”
They both laughed gently at that. And somehow she was starting to hate him more while simultaneously fighting down the butterflies in her stomach. Why did he have to be so courteous too? So nice? She didn’t want to make him sleep on the floor. He would be miserable, most likely sore and sleep deprived. And neither of them really wanted to subject themselves to even sitting on that couch, let alone trying to sleep on it. So there were really no other options. It was the bed for both of them. Even though the idea left Tessa’s guts swirling and her sweaty hands wringing themselves red.
“So y’re okay with sharin’?” he questioned with a glance towards the bed.
The bed that suddenly looked so, so small.
“In a minute, maybe,” she laughed nervously, pushing a hand through her hair. “Let’s jus’...Get ready f’r bed n’bite the bullet.”
Rhett huffed. “Makin’ it sound like y’re sharin’ a bed with an ogre.”
“M’sorry! I jus’, uh — haven’t really — done this sorta — Jesus, this’s embarrassin’,” she grumbled, trying to hide her reddening cheeks with her hands.
“Shit, Tess, I’s jokin’,” he chuckled lowly, taking his hat off with the first two fingers of his hand and setting it down on the small table by the door.
“Right.” She wanted to kick herself, or disappear into the floor, or just something. So instead she chose to grab her bag and head for the bathroom. “M’gonna change.”
“Okay,” he laughed again with a shake of his head.
How can he be so calm about this? How can he be so casual about sharing a bed with a girl he barely knows? She supposed, as she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, he was used to this kind of thing. Going around the circuit and sleeping with whatever buckle bunny showed interest. Or at least that was what the rumor mill around Wabang liked to tell her. This was just a regular Tuesday night for him. But it wasn’t for her. She had barely even kissed a guy let alone shared a bed with one. In either sense of the word. An embarrassing factoid she liked to keep to herself, one that she hoped Rhett Abbott wouldn’t pick up on as he slept right beside her for the next six nights.
Once changed into her pajamas, with her teeth and hair brushed, Tessa came back out into the bedroom sheepishly. But she couldn’t help the delicate squeak that slipped past her lips at the sight of Rhett standing on one side of the bed.
In nothing but his boxers. Showing off those broad shoulders and toned abdomen, that bull-rider tattoo on his chest and the scar on his shoulder, and those pale but thick thighs.
At the sound, he looked over at her with scrunched brows and thin lips downturned. Then he looked her up and down.
“That what you wear t’bed? Seriously?”
Tessa looked down at her clothes, a pink pajama set — shorts and a tank top — with strawberries all over. She thought they were cute, and always liked wearing pajama sets to bed, even when she was alone. But now that she was standing in front of him, she just felt silly and like she needed to cover up. She crossed her arms in front of herself and gave him a look.
“That’s what you wear t’bed? Seriously?” she repeated, looking pointedly at his plaid boxers, trying to match his tone.
“S’hot!” he defended with a gesture towards the window.
“Y’could at least put on a shirt r’somethin’,” she went on, crossing the room to stand on the other side of the bed.
Rhett rolled his eyes. “S’not like y’re wearin’ much more than me.”
“I didn’think I’d have t’share a room!” she shot back, yanking back the covers with a huff and a deep breath.
It seemed he had no rebuttal for that. Instead, he quietly slipped the t-shirt he was wearing earlier back on before sitting down at the edge of the bed. Back turned to her as he messed with his phone.
There was relative silence between them after that. Tessa set out her slippers for the morning, knowing she was going to be the first one up and her bare toes would freeze on this floor. Then she plugged in her phone and set it on the side table, setting no alarm. There was nothing on the reunion schedule until one o’clock in the afternoon. A shared lunch at some cantina in town before heading back to the Frontier.
She settled back in the covers, trying to keep as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep as much space between her and Rhett. The overhead light was turned off, only the light of their respective table lamps remained. Tessa shut her’s off with another sigh she hoped didn’t sound as shaky outloud as it did in her head.
Rhett didn’t seem to notice. Too preoccupied with his phone as he kicked up his feet and leaned back against the headboard, a small smile on his face. She looked over her shoulder at him curiously.
“That Maria?” she questioned before she could stop herself.
She knew they had reconnected recently, what with Maria back in Wabang from college what seemed like permanently. And she knew Rhett always had a crush on her. Which was why Tessa’s crush always seemed like a futile and doomed little thing. Who was she in comparison to Maria Olivares? The girl Rhett’s been dreaming about since he was a kid? She had seen them hanging out together at the Handsome Gambler, even making out outside the Pit Bar once or twice. Always a fleeting thought and never something she focused on. She wasn’t sure they were dating, but they were certainly a Thing — whatever that meant for them.
“Uh, yeah,” Rhett replied, locking his phone and setting it aside. “Tellin’ me about’er day.”
“You gonna tell’er y’re sharin’ a bed with someone else?” she asked with a grin.
“Probably not,” he laughed. “She…Hasn’t really asked about the trip anyways, so…”
“Oh.” That seemed odd to Tessa. If she was his girlfriend, and he was gone on a week-long trip, she would be asking every day what he was doing. Wondering if he was having fun and being safe. But that was none of her business. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt’er, I guess?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he chuckled again.
He leaned over and turned out his light, basking the room in total darkness.
The next morning, Tessa woke up first as she guessed.
But it was the way she woke up that was entirely unexpected.
That made her gut sink through to the floor and a heat build up so strong in her cheeks she felt like she was on fire.
Her head wasn’t even on her pillow anymore. Somehow, she had rolled over in her sleep and was laying with her head on Rhett’s firm yet somehow comfortable chest. Her arm was draped over his torso, her leg hitched up over his hips. And his arm…His arm was curved around her waist.
His fingers shoved into the waistband of her shorts, resting against the curve of her ass.
With another delicate little squeak, Tessa pulled away from him and scrambled up from the bed. Rhett didn’t seem too bothered by her sudden and not so subtle movement. He only groaned and rolled over. A heavy sleeper it seemed. And she stared at him wide eyed, standing there still feeling his warmth on her skin.
This was going to be a long week.
i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates
#oc: tessa abernathy#fic: frontier days#fd: outer range#rhett abbott#rhett abbott x oc#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott fanfic#rhett abbott fic#outer range#outer range imagine#outer range fic#ocapp#fic request#filled prompt#rhett abbott x tesa abernathy#lewis pullman
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I feel like I've complained about Tim's email situation in Gotham Knights before (edit: I have), but the truth of it is just so funny.
He's signed up for so many podcasts, video game streamers, and random news alerts; it's just a constant barrage of data going straight into his constantly whirring brain. Hell, he even floats the idea of the Batfamily having their own podcast as a way to correct misinformation about them (which Jason shoots down instantly), and it's made me realize something.
Timothy Drake would be a YouTuber.
In this universe specifically, Timothy Jackson Drake, the heir to Drake Industries and the foster son of the late Bruce Wayne would be a YouTuber.
Think about it. It'd be the perfect cover. Who would ever suspect that some 16-year-old nepo baby with a YouTube channel could ever be Red Robin? You'd have to be mad. I mean, look at him.
Red Robin just dropped out of literal thin air and garotted someone four times his size, and you expect anyone to believe that's the same kid who does 24-hour Minecraft charity streams and occasionally drops 6-hour video essays (his last one was on Lex Luthor's illegal bit mining operation on the moon)?
That kid?
You think that kid is Red Robin?
Ch'yah, okay, sure. And the Joker is funny 🤡.
#gotham knights game#I'm now incorporating this into all my Tim headcanons across the multiverse#twice a week as part of maintaining his Normal Teenager Identity#he streams random shit on YouTube/Twitch#he's got the full gamer set up in the background#LED lights around the ceiling and walls#rainbow keyboard/headset#mini fridge filled with Monster Energy Drinks#(other streamers have 'take a shot' prompts in chat. his audience has 'drink water before you die')#whenever he hosts a charity stream Bruce makes an appearance in chat via the official Wayne Enterprises account#and promises to match whatever they raise#and then hangs about for a bit to cheer Tim on#he's the epitome of 'are ya winning son?' meme#meanwhile off screen#Tim's keeping an eye on a seperate monitor#and helping Babs run remote ops#if his stream suddenly dies (which is does fairly often) he blames it on the Manor having shitty wifi#and that tracks#it's an old house#it's probably FILLED with lead and dead signal spots#in reality Tim killed the stream because Red Robin is needed#and no one will ever know
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly.
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color.
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless.
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating.
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate.
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever.
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy.
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents.
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it.
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence.
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door.
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out.
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once.
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words.
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left.
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze.
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo.
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.”
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles.
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders.
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that.
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet.
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day.
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security.
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction.
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage.
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office.
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time.
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives.
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed.
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises.
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye.
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest.
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die.
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it.
He won’t let anyone take it from him.
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary.
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat.
Bruce reaches a hand out.
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him.
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away.
The orb in his hand moves.
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark.
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it.
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap.
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid.
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot.
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face.
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke.
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises.
If anyone can, it’s Batman.
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends.
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompt fill#my writing#i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here#just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce#when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB#(ghost core but they dont know that yet)#dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings#its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover#until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up#in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes#what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol#thanks for the prompt!
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Prompt 191
So. Apparently immortality does in fact exist. And is apparently very easily accidentally achieved, if the fact an entire city has it now.
The GIW will be waiting a very long time to be able to drop that ghost shield, because the city doesn’t seem to be dying out anytime soon. Or at all actually. It’s been several generations now.
They might need to request assistance. Maybe before others start to investigate now that vigilantes are becoming a semi-common thing.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompts#The ghost shield made it where the ecto wasn’t able to disperse as it came out of the portal & filled the city#Everyone became too ecto contaminated to be able to exit#And just… stopped being able to die permanently or by old age#They’re not exactly humans nor ghosts but something in-between#Aka Liminal as fuck#Technically everyone counts as a meta or alien#They sure aren’t human anymore & all remember the shit the GIW and government have pulled#They’ve opened up trading with the Realms a while ago#They give them living world things that help with obsessions & get seeds or whatever supplies in exchange#Along with training#They all give off necromancing fae vibes#Liminal Amity Park#Danny is Not ghost king
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“what the hell happened to you?” for willex please 😘
I am so very sorry about how long this took me!!! But anyways, here is the continuation of my quest to make painful starts as fluffy as possible. And it ended up a bit long cause... brain likes Willex fluffs. I hope you like it!!!
Alex knocked on the door of Willie's loft for five minutes before giving in and using his key to come inside. His partner had given it to him after a few too many instances where Willie was too fixated or the music was too loud for them to hear the door. He stepped into the open living area, a bit concerned as to where Willie was. He should be home, since he'd texted Alex to come over less than an hour ago.
"Willie?" Alex called, glancing around the loft. "You here?"
They weren't in the main area, but there was clearly an art project going on, if the large, half-painted canvas and paint-splattered drop cloth were anything to go off of.
"Hang on," Willie's voice called from down the hall, startling Alex.
He glanced in the direction of the sound and noticed the closed bathroom door. A few seconds later, it opened and Willie emerged. Alex's cheeks flushed as he realized that they weren't wearing a shirt, but his brain only froze for a second before he figured out why.
"What the hell happened to you?" Alex demanded, taking in how Willie's long, dark hair and sculpted shoulders and chest were covered in messy drips of indigo paint.
Willie ducked his head, embarrassed. "Um, the bucket was on the ladder… and I was down on the floor to do some of the lower sections… and it fell on me?"
Alex glanced back at the drop cloth covering Willie's floor, now noticing the large, purple paint splatter near the canvas.
“I was hoping I’d be able to wash it all off before you got here,” Willie continued, embarrassed. “But… yeah, that didn’t work.”
Alex looked his partner up and down, taking in the paint dripping slowly down his chest and the swipe of it across his cheek, then burst out laughing. Willie giggled along with him, relaxing at the indication that Alex wasn’t upset.
“Come on,” Alex chuckled once he got his breath back, taking off his hoodie and dropping it onto Willie’s kitchen table. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Willie smiled gratefully and led the way down to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bathtub as Alex reached up to grab the showerhead off the wall.
“We should probably start with my hair,” Willie sighed as Alex turned on the water and fiddled with the temperature. “It’s a lot easier to get dried paint off skin than hair.”
“Works for me,” Alex responded, reaching out to cup Willie’s jaw with one hand.
Willie leaned into the contact and allowed Alex to move their head around. He winced a bit as the hot water hit his scalp but then relaxed as he adjusted to it. Alex quietly rinsed out as much of the purple as he could, soaking Willie’s hair and a lot of their back in the process. His own shirt was getting wet as well, but he didn’t really mind. Now that he’d gotten over the shock of seeing his boyfriend shirtless and covered in paint, Alex could appreciate how nice the color looked on them. The dark paint contrasted beautifully with his golden skin and brown hair.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Willie joked as Alex reached for the shampoo. There was something else hiding under the teasing tone though, something that Alex had to focus on for a moment to place: worry. He wasn’t sure what Willie might be concerned about though.
“Just thinking that this indigo suits you,” Alex answered carefully, turning the shower off and laying down the showerhead to lather the shampoo between his damp palms. “You?” He did his best to keep his tone soft on the last bit, hoping Willie would feel safe enough to share whatever was bothering him.
“Are you annoyed?” Willie asked quietly after a long moment. Alex paused, dropping to his knees so he wasn’t standing over them and raising his eyebrows in a silent question. “You came over here to have fun,” Willie added in explanation, “not to help your idiot boyfriend clean up the mess they made.”
Alex hummed for a moment, considering his words before speaking. “First of all,” he started, “you aren’t an idiot. Accidents happen. And no one is allowed to talk bad about my partner.” He wanted to take Willie’s hand, but his were now covered in shampoo, making the air around them smell like coconut instead of paint. He settled for nudging their knee with his hip. “And no, I promise I’m not annoyed. I love you, and this is just a part of your life. I want to be in your life, and that includes helping you clean up messes like this.”
Willie grinned, their hesitation melting away at Alex’s words. “Okay,” he murmured, leaning forward to peck Alex’s lips softly.
“Isn’t that my line?” Alex teased when he pulled back, rising again and carefully sliding his fingers into Willie’s hair. The combination of wet hair, half-dried paint, and shampoo felt odd against his skin, but Alex pushed it aside.
Willie laughed and tilted their head to allow Alex better access to their hair. “Maybe I want to be a part of your life too, babe,” they smirked. “And stealing your stuff seems like it would be a part of that.”
“Stealing my stuff, huh?” Alex was definitely not thinking about how good Willie would look in his pink hoodie as he rubbed in the shampoo. Or their dark hair fanned out over his white pillowcase. Or the pleased look they’d had on their face last week after snagging a spoonful of Alex’s ice cream. “Sounds kind of rude,” he finished, hoping his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.
Willie giggled as Alex reached for the showerhead again. “You know me, rotten to the core,” he joked.
Alex laughed and they lapsed into an easy silence as he washed the shampoo and the paint out of Willie’s hair. Once all the shampoo was gone, Alex carefully combed through the hair with his fingers, making sure he’d gotten all of the paint. Satisfied, he turned off the water and grabbed a washcloth. Willie took the cloth from him and soaked it in the sink before starting to rub it over his face and shoulders.
“How bad is it on my back?” they asked, pulling Alex’s focus away from how smoothly their muscles shifted under the skin as they cleaned off the paint.
He glanced over the area in question, then answered, “Not too bad. A lot of it rinsed off while I was doing your hair.”
Willie sighed in relief as he scrubbed the last bit of indigo off his shoulder. “Nice, last time something like this happened, there was a ton on my back and it took forever to get it all off, mostly cause I couldn’t see it.”
Alex chuckled. “Well, I could always help you with that,” he pointed out, not entirely sure if he was teasing Willie or flirting. It could be both.
“Oh yeah?” Willie smirked, raising his eyebrows at Alex in the mirror.
“Mhm,” Alex hummed, stepping right up behind them and taking the washcloth. “Just…” He trailed off as he dragged the cloth over a purple spot on the back of Willie’s left shoulder blade. “Good as new,” he added as he cleaned the paint off his partner’s skin.
Willie glanced over his body in the mirror, checking for any last traces of indigo, then turned to face Alex. “Thank you,” they murmured, cupping his jaw with one hand.
“My pleasure,” Alex responded, sliding his arms around his waist as he leaned in to kiss him. The front of his shirt was getting soaked from being pressed against Willie’s damp chest, but he didn’t really care. He could change his shirt. But he wouldn’t change a thing about this moment.
#there we have it#julie and the phantoms#jatp fanfic#willex#jatp#alex mercer#willie jatp#willex my beloved#I don't really know where this one came from#but I think it's cute so...#it's y'all's problem now#answered ask#filled prompt#legolas tag#legolas ask
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