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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

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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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error-404-code9 · 8 months

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You know what I love…

When people’s superpowers get worse when they’re scared.

Like sympathetic nervous system is a-going, heart is racing, and your whole body thinks you’re in danger. So it tries to kick in your powers to protect itself. I’m taking:

People with electric powers shocking themselves when touching a door knob.

Water powers unconsciously forming a water bubble and spilling it on themselves.

Fire powers smelling smoke suddenly, only to look down at their hands and realize their hands are heating up and burning the sweat off their hands.

Super genius’ drawing a blank and stuttering when someone asks them a question.

People with super speed bouncing their leg up and down or fiddling with their fingers so fast, it looks like one massive blob

(And of course the famous example) Miles, and his spider powers, sticking to everything.

Superhumans and their powers need to be one. I think often we forget about the ‘human’ part. Superpowers being inconvenient is comedic, cool to see, and shows that their powers aren’t just a cool feature they can just turn on and off. It’s a part of them. Just… people’s powers messing up when they’re scared. Give it a thought

#And it can be turned into fluff so 10/10 #writing prompts #writeblr #writing prompt #writing #writers block #writing inspiration #heroes and villains #writers on tumblr #hero and villain #imagine your otp #otp ideas #creative writing #superhero #otp prompts #soft otp prompts

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villainousauthor · 2 months

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The Hero huffs as they're pinned mid fight once again. Villain opens their mouth to tease yet again, using Hero's given name as the sound of it rolls off their tongue so smoothly.

"I told you to stop saying my real name." Villain being able to find out their true name has been one of the biggest slip ups Hero has managed in their whole career. So far, though, Villain has only used the knowledge to be increasingly irritating.

"Why not? It sounds so nice," Their grip on Hero's wrists tightens above their head as they lean closer, "So pretty."

Their breath fans across Hero's cheek, a mischievous grin on their face, and they let the name fall from their lips yet again. Hero tries to ignore the rising heat in their chest at the sound of it, tries to ignore how delightfully soft it sounds coming from Villain.

Villain continues to pin them, not giving them an inch of leeway. "I can think of a few scenarios in which you might like me calling your name...maybe I could even get you to use mine." The innuendo is hard to miss and Hero feels themselves flushing hot even more.

"Stop with the dirty implications! Only you of all my enemies would use my true identity to be annoying instead of threatening." Hero tries to keep their voice firm, to keep the flustered tremble out of it.

Villain only chuckles and leans back, though their grip on Hero's arms stays strong. "Also, besides, your hero name is kind of stupid."

#hero x villain #prompts #dialogue prompt #hero #hero prompt #hero x villain prompt #original writing #villain x hero #villain prompt #villain #superhero #writing prompts #writers on tumblr

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bamber344 · 1 month

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ok so superhero whump scenario:

Villain is Hero's favourite 'bad guy' to fight. Villain never really hurts anyone with their actions, and anything they steal is usually anonymously returned within a few days. The worst crime they've really committed is property damage. Hero is convinced they're just doing it for fun, as evidenced by Villain's very melodramatic and performatively cheesy attitude during their confrontations

Eventually, Villain disappears. Hero assumes they just decided to put down their cape and mask, though is a little saddened that they now don't have any real 'comic relief' in their day-to-day villain fighting.

A few months later, Hero is in Superhero's HQ when they come across a locked door they hadn't noticed before. Overcome with curiosity, they figure out how to get it open and take a peek inside.

Even without their iconic costume or mask, Hero would recognise Villain anywhere. Villain looks awful. Emaciated, bruised, scarred, curled up in a shivering ball in the corner of what Hero now recognises as a cell. How long has Superhero kept them here? And why? Hero doesn't know, all they do know is that this is wrong, and that their old rival needs their help, Superhero be damned.

#whump #whump writing #whump prompt #whump scenario #superhero whump #villain whumpee #superhero whumper #hero caretaker #hero x villain

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whatthehellami · 5 months

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"Can we like, reschedule today's fight? I have an exam?"

"YOU'RE IN SCHOOL?"

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the-starlit-authoress · 21 days

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Villain clutched their undoubtedly broken ribs and stared up at Superhero from their position on the ground. Their glare would be more effective were it not so pained.

Superhero stared back idly, as if dealing with a minor annoyance. "Any last words before I rid this world of your pathetic existence?"

"I thought heroes didn't kill people."

"Yes, well. Not officially." Superhero delivered a hard kick to Villain's jaw, knocking them down. "But accidents happen."

Villain spit out the fresh blood in their mouth and tried to stop their head from spinning. "Does the agency know their trophy hero is a murderer?"

Superhero smiled. "Oh, darling. Who do you think handles the coverup?"

So what, were all heroes like this then? Were they morals just an act? Hero wouldn't do this. Their Hero wouldn't. But their Hero wasn't here to save them.

As if reading their mind, Superhero spoke again. "Shame Hero isn't here to see this. I'm sure they'd love to come and give their little speach about being better than our enemies, but they got a little...caught up at the headquarters."

"Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with that?"

Superhero flashed their public smile. The one they gave to the press and city officials. Villain knew their real smile was much darker. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #hero and villain prompts #hero and villain #writing prompt #superhero #corrupt superhero #corrupt agency #hero agency #hero x villain #villain x hero

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mirohtron · 1 year

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“You’ve seriously never thought about us kissing?” The superhero crooked an eyebrow. “We’ve been marinating in sexual tension for three years now.”

prompt by @gingerly-writing :> <333

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“You’ve seriously never thought about us kissing?” The superhero crooked an eyebrow. “We’ve been marinating in sexual tension for three years now.”

The villain choked. Went to hide their blushing face.

When they cracked two fingers apart to peak, the superhero was still staring at them through their cell's reinforced bars.

"No," they said. "You're a bit too terrifying."

That was not entirely true. The superhero was terrifying, yes. Loved by the masses. Feared by the criminal underbelly of the city. But the villain was enamoured, hopelessly, by that. The contrast between their charming, friendly persona that was reserved for the masses and their true cold, calculating, dangerous demeanor left the villain hopelessly pining after them. They were incredible, truly. Perfection.

They ran their hands down their heated face and looked up.

The superhero's perfect face stared down at them. The villain looked down at their crossed legs instead. "I thought you were just toying," they mumbled. "With the flirting."

Silence, again. The villain glanced up at the superhero through their lashes.

The superhero tilted their head in observation. The villain pressed their lips into a thin line and crossed their arms, hunching their shoulders.

The superhero crouched down to meet their level. The villain tucked their chin in and leaned back, refusing to make eye contact. They heard the rustle of the superhero's gloves slipping off of their fingers. They dropped to the floor, right in front of the bars. The villain could've reached out and taken them.

"It doesn't change my offer," said the superhero. "I get you out of this cell in exchange for a kiss."

Had it not been for their dark skin, the villain was sure they would've lit up red. But they couldn't accept the offer, surely. They imagined even a brush of their fingers would leave the villain dizzy and swaying on their feet.

They recalled, once, they'd thrown a stun bomb at the superhero and had them incapacitated for almost ten minutes. The superhero had risen up, suit torn (because they had it remade every day, since it was not completely reinforced so that the public could get glimpses of their skin—and that always, always left the villain faint).

They'd had them up against the wall, smiled down, body radiating heat, and said, "well, aren't you incredible?"

The villain's knees had turned to jelly instantly.

"I can get out of here on my own," they mumbled, biting their tongue right after they spoke so their mind wouldn't conjure up more memories.

"Is that so?" The superhero feigned a curious tone. "A little birdie told me you've bruised your whole body trying to break these bars."

The villain winced. They properly glanced up at the superhero, then, and saw they had their cheek resting on their fist. Their eyes were lazily hooded. Their other hand rose to trail fingers down their neck, to the side of their collarbone.

The villain's hand rose, automatically, to their own collarbone, to the bruise there that was exposed by the loose neckline of their shirt. They pulled it close. Their cheeks flushed for a different reason, then; they hated this cell and the way it suppressed their powers. It felt like one of their limbs had been cut off. They hated the Scientist—the villain that had trapped them here—for finding a way to suppress their powers even more.

They straightened their back. "Liar. This cell's shut down my powers. Maybe it's done that to you, too." They glanced back at the number of fortified doors the superhero had sauntered through when they first entered. They could've broken through those doors with ease.

Once more, the superhero crooked an eyebrow. They lifted their cheek from their fist and closed their fingers around one of the steel bars. The villain watched as it corroded beneath their skin.

They blinked. "Oh."

The superhero spread their hand in a voila gesture, raising their brow. "Oh."

Dumbly, the villain pursed their lips. They seriously considered the offer, then. Glanced, traitorously, at the superhero's lips. Thought of how it would feel to have their mouth pressed against that lovely pair.

Their lips buzzed with sensation. Oh, they felt dizzy right then.

"I'm not an idiot, in case you weren't paying attention," said the superhero. They tilted their head and raked their eyes down the villain—intoxicating. "I can hear your heart thumping like a bunny on caffeine. I always have."

The villain squeaked and put a hand over their heart, as if that would do any good. "You—you make me nervous."

The superhero smiled, then, all sly. "I know I do."

The villain's flush heightened, impossibly so. They didn't even know they could get this flustered. "This is unfair. You knew."

"I'm a very unfair person."

"I'm bad."

The superhero shrugged. "I'm terrible."

The villain clenched their fists. Everything felt very, very hot.

The superhero leaned in. They caught the villain's chin through the bars, bare, callused fingers rough and warm on their skin. "You're good," they said. "You're very good. You're exceptional, able to outsmart even me, and you just keep your talents on the down low so that no one targets you."

Again, the villain pursed their lips into a line. Wobbly. Burning with the phantom sensation of the superhero's mouth on theirs. They had nothing to protest with, then, just the heat curling all around their body, fingers going shaky. "You'll take me out."

"Mm." The superhero tilted the villan's chin as much as the bars allowed them. Ran their fingers around the underside of their jaw. Skated up to touch one burning cheek. "To dinner. Or lunch." The corner of their mouth quirked up, devastatingly sharp and evil. "Or a nice little rooftop if you kiss me." They scraped their thumb along the curve of the villain's bottom lip.

The villain's lips parted automatically. They took in a quivering, nervous breath. "You'll get me out."

"Of course."

"How long have you liked me back?"

The superhero looked pleased. That smile, god, that smile. It wasn't made for the cameras. It was evil, mean, smug. It made the villain's heart flip hopelessly. "I might let you know if you kiss me."

The villain clutched the bars and leaned close. The steel brushed cold against their cheeks. They had to know. Was it after they first drew the superhero's blood? Or from that time one of their inventions sent the superhero flying through ten walls? Or one of the times when they had the villain blushing, pressed flush to a wall?

The superhero chuckled to themselves, gently tipped the villain's chin up, and kissed them.

The villain sighed and pulled them close and the superhero pulled them closer. Their hands snaked beneath their shirt and ran over their back, their sides, teased the edges of their waistband. It stung just slightly from the bruises, but the heat that their hands left in their wake left the villain too brainless to think of anything else but them.

The superhero leaned back first. The villain would've followed their lips mindlessly if it hadn't been for the bars. But instead they stayed there, breathless, lips burning, cheeks still pressed to the steel bars. They tapped the corroded edge of the bar the superhero had touched in urgency.

The superhero ran their hands around the bars in a huge circle, and they snapped right off. The villain barely had time to get to their feet before the superhero had scooped them up into another kiss. This one was hungrier, eager for a proper taste, and the villain had to tiptoe to properly kiss them. They leaned back for air.

"Since the stun bomb," said the superhero. "I've wanted a smart, pretty thing like you since."

"O—oh." The villain wasn't sure how to properly respond to that. They were already afraid they'd been misjudged on the smart part, maybe the superhero had kissed them dumb. But they found that they didn't need to respond, because the superhero was kissing them again.

They walked out hand in hand. The superhero dropped them off on a nice little rooftop, cheeks still burning, lips still buzzing and swollen.

The villain touched a hand to their cheek, feeling the heat there.

Oh, they were head over heels.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heros #villain x superhero #kyles.writing #heroes #superhero x villain #villains #superheroes #kissing #me putting 'prompt by gingerly writing :> <3' to hide the fact that i think this is the worst piece ive ever written #the superhero . is not evil enough . imo #but i am too lazy to edit #(false i will probs edit this once ive posted it)#writeblr #writers on tumblr

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thepenultimateword · 4 months

Text

Prompt #251

“They’re a villain!” Hero cried. “Why are you protecting them?”

They both stood in the agency’s medbay, watching the unconscious Villain’s chest rise and fall. Well Superhero was watching, Hero was lecturing. The whole compound knew what the agency scientists wanted to do with this fortunate acquirement, but Superhero’s presence was making it increasingly difficult. And one couldn’t just throw out Superhero.

“They saved me,” Superhero said simply. “I brought them here to return the favor. And the day they wake up I’ll walk them out of here. No matter what the board says.

#superhero x villain #hero x villain #creative writing #prompt #heroes and villains #writing prompt #heroes and villains community #short prompt #writblr #villain #s

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just-a-few-prompts · 6 months

Text

“… you couldn’t have told me sooner?” A seethed, trembling with anger.

“I did!” B cried out desperately, their hands straining to clutch at the air, as if it would keep the tears from spilling from their eyes. “I did, so many times, A! I did.”

#dialogue prompt #angst prompt #hurt/comfort prompt #sad prompt #whump dialogue #chat prompt #scene prompt #character prompt #superhero prompt #supervillain prompt #hero prompt #villain prompt #partner prompt #otp prompt #best friends prompt #writing prompt #story prompt #prompts #it was two days. it was two days

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automeris-io-moth · 21 days

Note

heeey! I really love your writing and I was wondering if you could write smth with the classic hurt for their own good prompt

Request #9

“You have to stop crying, love, you’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

Uncurling themselves from their foetal position over the plush black couch, with great effort for it was the only which alleviated the constant, though by then dulled, throbbing on their side, Hero smashed both feet against the wooden tiles.

Their legs trembled still, their jaw ached with the pressure of their teeth grinding together. Pain was no longer the cause, but anger, too high in analgesics to even feel the ache of their broken bone, and the warmth of the room, their old teammate office (Villain then their new name), emanating softly from the lit fireplace before them prevented the ache that the coldness of an still early spring brought.

“You have no right to tell me that!” they yelled, face hot with indignation “You did this to me!”

Villain looked up from their desk to meet Hero’s eyes.

“And I’m yet to hear a thank you.”

“Thank you?!”

“You’re welcome, angel.”

“You ruined everything for me! You fu…” a loud impact echoed in the room, accompanied by Hero’s brash cursing.

Throwing their chair back Villain hurried by their side, a hand sneaking their way into Hero’s, pulling it away from their grip on their broken leg, looking for any extra damage done, none seemed to have happened, though they would need to call the doctor back in the morning, their third visit in a row caused by their old friend’s careless behaviour

Openly crying then, Hero kept trying to land a punch before both their hands were gripped in one of the other’s, the other hand restraining their leg from more erratic movement.

“You’re going to hurt yourself further,” Villain warned.

“And who’s fault is that?! I wouldn’t be hurt at all if it weren't for you.”

“You would be dead then, Hero, hell!”

With wide, tear-filled eyes, Hero stared.

Villain, at the newly found lack of fight, pulled them closer.

“And I'm sorry I had to hurt you, but you didn’t want to listen to reason, you would have died.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

“Yes you would have,” Villain replied with a sigh “you’re not indestructible even if the government wants to sell you as such, and I think I’ve given you tangible proof of that now. That was a suicide mission.”

“I was so close to being Superhero's second in command.”

“No, you weren’t, you were so close to being dead.”

Stopping their fussing, Hero settled on the floor, leg still pulsating, too numb to actually feel pain yet aware enough to feel the discomfort. They resign themselves to angry tears, little more they could do.

“Your team has no idea what they’re going against,” Villain continued, voice calmer, breath evening out “you are all greatly underestimating what Supervillain is capable of. And they already had their eye on you, the golden star of the city would give a lot to talk about.”

“Let them come,” Hero spat.

Villain sighed “That’s exactly why I did what I did, I won’t let you die, even if this is what I have to do to assure it.”

Masterlist

Certaly! (sorry it took this long tho)

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starry-night-author · 8 months

Note

I just found your blog and I LOVE your writing! Can I request a Hero that gets kidnapped by a yandere Villain???

Teeheee a classic :3 thank you!!!!

Prompt #22

Hero had to try their hardest not to cry as they were the one who had to pay for dinner. Taking the card back from the waiter and picking up their boxed-up leftovers they stood, tucking their chair back beneath the table. Trying to keep their eyes off the chair opposite them, the one that Superhero hadn't even bothered to push in.

Should they push it back in? If they didn't, the restaurant employees would have to.

Sighing, they walked over and pushed Superhero's empty seat back beneath the table.

Hero managed to keep in their tears as they walked through the restaurant, but once they reached the chilly night air, they couldn't cram their sobs down any longer. They let their tears run down their face to drip into their scarf as they pulled out their phone to arrange for someone to come pick them up.

Hero and Superhero had only been dating for a few months, but breakups always hurt. Especially ones that had come out of nowhere. Superhero had been gentle with them, saying they could still be friends and they would be happy to see them at work on Monday- but they'd still left as soon as they were done, leaving Hero halfway through their spaghetti and to pay for both of their meals.

The crime-stopper hadn't had the appetite to finish their dinner, and had only waited until they were sure Superhero was gone before boxing it up and leaving.

Out here in the cold, alone, Hero felt oddly weightless. Detached. Drifting into space.

"Alone on a Friday night? God, you're pathetic."

Hero jumped, looking up. "W-what?"

Someone slipped from the shadows next to the building, cast by the bright streetlights from above. It took Hero a moment to recognize them, but once they did, they were quickly wiping away their tears and hoping the newcomer hadn't noticed. "Villain! What are you doing here?"

The villain grinned, showing startlingly white teeth that almost seemed to glow in the dark night. Their smile looked stretched, forced. "Got stood up."

"Oh," Hero sighed. "Mine at least actually showed up."

"And yet you're alone?"

"And yet I'm alone." They looked back down at their phone. "Superhero was my ride, too."

A hand on their arm, Hero jumped. They hadn't heard Villain get that close.

The criminal's voice was quiet, dangerously smooth. "I've got a car, I can take you home."

Hero offered them a hesitant smile. "I-I'll be alright."

"Oh, come on, Hero! We're both off duty, and you know me. You don't even have to give me your exact address if you don't want to, I'll drop you wherever you need." They pressed closer, breath pluming in the cold night and their voice a purr. "You should really get out of this cold."

Hero sighed. They were miserable, they didn't want to think, to have to take care of themself. They just wanted to get home as soon as possible so they could cry. "Alright."

They let Villain lead them over to their shiny dark car, parked beneath one of the street lamps. Moths and mosquitoes whizzed in front of the light, casting strange moving shadows down on the road. They sat in the passenger's seat, and Villain offered them the GPS as soon as they were settled. "Put your address in there," they prompted.

Hero chose a street a few blocks from theirs, not wanting to let their enemy know exactly where they lived. Villain accepted the GPS back without a word, turning the car on and pulling smoothly out of the parking lot.

"So," Villain started as they turned onto the main highway that ran throughout the city. "How's your week been?"

"Fine," Hero sighed, leaning against the window. "Until today."

"What happened?" The criminal glanced at them. "If you're alright with saying."

Hero gave a brief overview of their relationship with Superhero and of their date tonight, and Villain frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry. They don't know what they're losing."

Hero smiled faintly, wiping at their freshly wet eyes. "Thanks. What about you?"

"There's tissues in the glove compartment if you need any. Mine at least was a first date, this would've been my first time meeting them in person." Villain shrugged, then cast a sly glance at them. "What are the odds we both ended up ditched by our dates on the same night at the same place?"

Hero had already blown their nose, they were using the tissue to wipe their eyes again when they hesitated. What were the odds of that? "You weren't following me, were you?" It was only half a joke.

"Hm? Oh, no. I've got too many things to do to be following little heroes around." Their tone was teasing. "Don't flatter yourself."

Nerves slightly quelled, Hero leaned back in their seat. "Well, at least I can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow or something."

Street lamps whizzed by overhead, casting beams of light in the car that sped by quickly. The scenery outside was a blur to Hero, they were too lost in their surprise and sadness to register much of it. Villain seemed to know where they were going though, so they didn't bother themself with it. The criminal hadn't replied to their point, allowing a lull in the conversation to give Hero a moment to zone out. Their earlier odd weightlessness having time to return.

It took them a moment to come back to themself. "Oh, thanks for the ride."

"Of course," Villain smiled, eyes still on the dark road. "It'd be against my morals not to help you out."

It was true, despite their ruthless reputation, Villain had always been quite nice to the hero. Though the most they'd ever interacted before this was once when Hero had been on an assignment to destroy a weapon Villain had made, the criminal had seemed quite understanding about the destruction and had even slipped Hero some bandages for the cut they'd accidentally given them. It was part of why Hero had accepted help from their nemesis, this amount of generosity wasn't unusual from them. They were oddly trustworthy in that regard.

That being said, the rumors circulating about Villain went entirely against that. According to the whispers, they were a terribly malicious, cruel, and downright hurtful. They mistreated their henchmen. They'd killed their last assigned hero. They didn't care about the civilian lives their schemes cost, in fact, they went out of their way to cause them.

But surely, seeing Villain now, those had to be false. Or possibly exaggerations, spread by Villain themself to keep other villain's with messing with them. That wasn't unheard of, in fact, Hero could think of several past villains who had done the same thing.

"So, what will you do without Superhero?" Villain picked up the conversation. "Is it too soon to ask if you will want to start dating again?"

"Why, you asking me out?" Hero joked. Villain's kindness warmed their sadness, already making them feel a little better. "No, not really. I don't want to be single, but I don't want to go through the whole process of meeting someone new."

"I hear that," Villain sighed. "You could always try sparking something with someone you already know."

Hero shook their head. "I feel like all my friends are just that. Friends. And there's not many people outside of that I know very well."

"What about enemies?" Villain teased.

The crime-stopper laughed, going along with the joke. "Oh sure, let me just call up the list of villains I'm supposed to bring in by next week."

"Am I on that list?"

Knowing it was a joke Hero laughed again, shaking their head and sitting back in their chair. Villain really did know how to cheer them up, they were glad they'd gone with them tonight. "Don't know, I'll have to look through it."

"Write mine at the bottom if I'm not there, why don't you?"

Hero snorted, their laughter subsiding as they leaned against the window. "Yeah, well, it's probably too soon anyway. I liked Superhero, I don't know if I can get used to someone else so soon."

"Hm." Villain looked back at the road, letting out a breath.

Hero sat up, tapping the window. "Oh, hey, I think you missed the turn, my place is that way?" Maybe they were taking a different route?

"We're not going back to your place."

"W-what?" Hero blinked.

Villain's gaze was hard set as they glared out the windshield, their expression suddenly much more serious than Hero had seen it all night. "We're not going back to your place." They repeated.

Hero was beginning to panic, their earlier contentedness slipping away like the rushing objects outside. "W-why?"

"Because if no one out there can treat you right, then they don't get to have you."

#HOPE I DID IT RIGHT #I've never like consciously done a yandere character before so it was a cool set of guidelines to follow!!!#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero #villain #writing #prompt #writing prompt #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #starry-night-author #superhero #thanks for the ask!#anon ask #hero x superhero #superhero x hero

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Note

Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny

Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary.

Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!

Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over.

Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up.

“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people.

He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.

RIP Bruce. He will be missed.

The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good.

The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule.

Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.

The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”

She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”

The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls.

He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again.

Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.

Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence.

How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored.

He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts.

And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him.

Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret.

More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.

Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground.

Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”

Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!

Kidnappers these days. So rude.

He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone.

If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…

Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own.

First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.

They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back.

He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this.

The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull.

Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve.

He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him.

“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”

“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”

“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone.

Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something.

“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”

“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”

“Phantom.”

“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”

“Like, coffee?”

“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”

Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”

Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”

“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”

“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”

“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”

He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met.

But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”

Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition.

“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.

“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”

Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers.

He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.

“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”

Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”

“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.

Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face.

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”

“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”

“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”

Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.

He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set.

And he still doesn’t have his suit.

Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.

Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.

“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across.

“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member.

Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family.

“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.

Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.

Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”

“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door.

As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom.

Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.

He really can’t wait for this night to be over.

Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them.

Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.

Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating.

Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.

Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever.

Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.

They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.

Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.

The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.

“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.

“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”

The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”

Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.

“Dude? You alright?”

Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”

“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”

He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”

“You from out of town?”

“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”

“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”

Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”

“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”

“Woah, what?”

“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter.

This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”

The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again.

Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents.

She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.

Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start.

Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”

Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”

“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”

He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”

“Sure do.”

“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”

“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”

Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.

“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”

There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.

She really is the coolest.

He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #theyre just so casual in this fic #duke gets kidnaps. nbd tbh. saved by a glowing flying guy. nbd. duke clocks dannys identity instantly. nbd.#theyre just chilling. no time to freak out they on a mission to get milkshakes!!#sam is cackling once they leave and people start trying to figure out who they were and how audacious they were in leaving like that #lots of people ask bruce abt duke and his actions. the other siblings are trying so hard to get info abt danny from sam but shes not cracki #dick asks jason to follow them and get info bc this milkshake date is now an urgent mission. jason blocks him.#damian and sam do bond over animal rights and environmentalism later tho. they just share protesting tips and best ways to cause a scene #once again peppering in ocs bc i love making ocs #(<-says the girl literally writing an original superhero novel bc she cant stop making ocs. as if this is news to anyone)#thanks for the prompt!!!

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