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bearlytolerant · 6 months ago

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I'm being greedy

Iris/Raghnall

— sharing a pillow and waking up with their faces only centimetres apart

(don't have to!)

Closer

The campfire crackles amidst the subtle crash of the waves against the rocks and Iris wanders the beach, scouring for any type of dry wood to keep the fire going long enough to get a meal in. But the sun hangs low on the horizon and if the fire keeps ablaze through the night, her location will quickly become grounds for a monster’s feast. Finding a few choice pieces, she carries the wood back to where Raghnall finishes skinning a tideswimmer.

“I need to ask something,” she says, throwing the small sticks into the fire.

“Whatever it is, ask it,” he replies, skewering the fish on the end of a dagger. He balances the butt of it on some rocks, heating the fish in the coals.

“Did my father send you?”

“Believe it or not, I go where the coin flows and that coin flows from more than just your father.” He stands and scratches at the back of his neck.

She stands too, eyeing him closely. “Well that is certainly an answer but not to the question I asked.” She takes a step closer to him. “Did. My. Father. Send you.”

“He might have made mention—”

She huffs and storms off to the edge of the rocky shore, scooping up pebbles and tossing them into the ocean. Raghnall sidles up beside her.

“What can I say?”

“You could say no to glorified babysitting. You are worth more than that.”

“Is it babysitting when you are five and twenty?”

“Six and twenty. And I suppose not in technical terms but it is basically the charge my father gives you.”

“Your father pays so handsomely for me to kill monsters with you. How could I say no?”

She tosses another pebble into the water. “You are infuriating.”

“Get used to it, cos.”

“I cannot believe I am stranded with you here until morning.”

“You seem pent up even after that goblin fight. Perhaps a bout would relieve some of that stress and pass the time. Then it’s just a singular sleep until the morrow and you will be free of me. What do you say?”

The rest of the pebbles slip from her fingertips. “No weapons,” she says, rounding on him. “Just fists. No blows to the head.”

Raghnall grins and bows ever so slightly. “On my honor. I look forward to testing my mettle against yours, cos.”

Iris spits on the ground, removing her dagger strapped around her leg. Raghnall removes his shield and weapons as well, including his armor. He stands bare chested and she notes the tattoos there, but the one with goblin heads skewered on a sword makes her smile. She fucking despises goblins. They are only a monetary thought though as her eyes follow the trail of hair down his abs that disappears beneath the ties of his waistband that could be undone so easily. Her wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed by him as he smirks knowingly at her. Briefly closing her eyes to clear her head, she reopens them and plants her feet firmly against the ground.

“Ready if you are,” she says.

He saunters her way and she plays dirty, scooping up a bit of sand. She tosses it in his face. More than half of it blows away but it disorients him enough.

“Hoy, thought we agreed no hits to the face?” He claws at his eyes and she takes her chance.

A swift sweep of her foot and she knocks him on his ass. She jumps, straddling his hips and grasps his wrists, pinning them to his sides.

“I did not hit your face. Sand did.”

His head slams into hers and she loses her grip. “Pardon me, my head slipped,” he says, flipping her.

She’s on her back, dizzy and panting, unable to move.

He has her secured and rubs it in when he grabs both of her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. She scowls and he smirks. Chest heaving, all she can think about is how pretty his brown eyes are, especially with the way the firelight dances in the reflection of his pupils and alights on his dark skin. He’s beautiful and she doesn’t know why this is the first time she’s noticed. Probably because she’s never been pinned beneath him after losing a ridiculously short bout.

“I think you won,” she mutters, her eyes falling from his eyes to his lips. She hopes he doesn’t think anything of the way her words come out breathlessly or how her heart beats erratically in her chest.

He doesn’t move, eyes roaming over her face. “Shame. I thought you would have bested me, cos.”

“You are not the first to be disappointed in me and I hardly think you will be the last.”

“Still. I worry your heart was not in this.”

He is still insanely close, hand still closed around her wrists, breath dusting her lips and she is trying to focus on his words. But his body is on hers and she thinks about what he said earlier in the day about battles—the simplicity of it. There’s naught else like it. The clashing of bodies and wills. She can think of a few other things that are simple and very much like the clashing of bodies and wills and she’d very much like to try it out. Her mind travels there in a matter of seconds and she wonders just how salty his skin would taste on her tongue if she ran it along his neck before biting and kissing it tenderly.

She writhes and struggles in his grasp. An attempt to disperse such thoughts.

“You can speculate all you want later. For now, you should get off me so we can eat, put the fire out and try to get some shut eye. Let us hope we will not have to face an ambush mid sleep.”

Wordlessly he climbs off of her, making his way back toward the fire and she follows, taking deep breaths to calm herself. They share their charred fish and an apple she had in her pack before settling in against the ground for some sleep. She rolls up her scarf and they lay down together, using it as a pillow, backs facing one another as they close their eyes for sleep.

Morn comes with bird song and just a touch of orange on the horizon. Iris squints her eyes closed trying to keep out the sun and rolls. Her body brushes against Raghnall and he stirs. Slowly she opens her eyes, hoping he’s still asleep and won’t mind if she siphons some of his body heat but as her eyes trail up from his chest to his face, he smiles at her sleepily, lips closer than they were during their little bout. Her thoughts immediately descend into lustful territory.

“Mornin’,” he says, his breath touching her lips.

She kisses him on impulse. It’s utterly foolish, she thinks, especially if he is not into it. But he cradles her face with his other hand and kisses her back. Slowly and oh so soft and very much into it. She melts into him, her fingers crawling up his shoulder and resting gently there while her leg hooks up and over his hip. Though there’s fabric between them, the throb of his cock flutters her pulse and she presses herself into him, needing all of him. Her hand slips away from his shoulder and skims his skin between their bodies and blindly tugs at the strings on his pants.

Pulling away with a little chuckle, she frowns at him, missing his lips on hers. “That is quite the greeting. Eager are we?”

“Need to go slower?”

“No. You know I hunger—,” he kisses her once, nibbles on her bottom lip, “—for you.” Clamps his hand on her ass. “For your body.”

“Then what is with all the chatter?”

“Just a little exchange of banter. It is a different kind of bout you know. One of wit.”

“Raghnall.”

“Hmm?”

“Please, shut up and just kiss me.” As she utters the words, she’s smacked with a slimy fluid to the face and Raghnall is already scrambling to his feet while she’s still trying to swipe it away with the back of her palm.

“Saurians,” he says, frustrated and hurries off to fetch his sword.

Iris sits up and notices they are much smaller saurians than what she’s used to, not even half the size of the ones she is used to fighting, and they don’t have any weapons. “Wait! I think they’re babies. Probably newly hatched too. Look how cute they are.” She smiles. “Hello there little ones.”

Two out of the dozen warily crawl up her leg but Raghnall returns, swinging his sword and the one bites while the other digs its claws into her right thigh. She screams in pain and reigns her volume in while he hacks and slashes away at the saurians. The two that injured her are now just bits and pieces scattered in her lap.

“Are you alright?” Raghnall asks, barely out of breath.

“Yes. But do you not think that was over doing it? Just a tad?”

He nods, grinning. “Maybe a tad.”

“Help me up.” She wriggles her hand at him and he clasps it, helping her to her feet. “I need to clean these wounds and we need to get out of here before the next dozen eggs hatch.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he says.

They gather up the remainder of their belongings and make their way off the beach. They have another cave to pass through and a part of her wishes she could have him for just one more night. But to his point, her father pays a handsome sum and he is impatient. He will need his report.

#bear writes #prompt fill #raghnall x arisen #dd2 #dd2 fanfic #thanks so much for the prompt!#I needed the motivation to actually write this down #dragons dogma 2 #dragon’s dogma 2 fanfic

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bella-caecilia · 1 year ago

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For @adoracora-elizabeth 's prompt 'Cake' for Cobert! I hope you like it <3

Cake

She had taken too great a bite. Her mind had been fully occupied by her daughters' bickering, the sponge cake piling up in her mouth as her frustration grew.

"At least, I'm not as pathetic as you," Mary scoffed over the rim of her tea cup.

Cora put her hand before her mouth and chewed faster. Robert noticed. He grinned at her attempt to regain appropriateness.

"So, it tastes good?" he whispered, leaning towards her.

She couldn't explain; her mouth full of crumbs. A hum was the only response. With a dry chuckle, Robert brushed a thumb over her lip.

#100 word writing exercise #cobert drabble #cora crawley #robert crawley #cobert #thanks so much for the prompt!

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otherworldseekers · 1 year ago

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3. "I'll keep you warm."

Severia Zetsuen was just exiting Camp Broken Glass' headquarters after a strategy session when she heard a familiar voice call out behind her.

"Fancy seeing you here, hero."

When she turned around, Nero was leaning nonchalantly against the corner of the building, just out of sight from the doorway. A smile broke out on her face.

"You made it." She ran over to him eagerly.

"Were you worried?"

"A little. There were a lot of voidsent on the way here."

Nero took her hands and pulled her into the shadow of the building. "You know nothing could keep me from your side." He tilted her face upward so he could see beneath her hat.

"And what do you think of my homeland?"

"I thought I knew what cold was like," Severia said with a grimace. "Then I got here."

"Well, I'm here now," Nero said as he lifted her into his arms.

"Nero, there are people around!"

"Good. Let them watch. I don't want anyone to make the mistake of thinking you need anyone but me to keep you warm."

#Thanks so much for the prompt!#yes I hc Nero goes along with the contingent #Severia x Nero #my writing #otp posing #Endwalker #All My Tomorrows

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solitaireships · 8 months ago

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🌧️ for whoever you think works best with the prompt!! (@comfortingstars)

I did this for Xianyun! And then proceeded to forget to post it for a month lol. But here it finally is!

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1028 words

Divider by saradika

Andromeda doesn’t often go out exploring. Usually when she goes out, it’s because she’s working on a case or trying to do some of her more independent research. She’s always been more at home in a library or a city than out in nature, which is what makes Xianyun tagging along for her trip out to Minlin.

Andromeda loves just how knowledgeable Xianyun is about the area. It makes sense— she’s been living on Mount Aocang for centuries, traveling throughout Jueyun Karst. Ae’s good at finding hidden trinkets and details, something that Andromeda can always appreciate. She wonders as they explore together if Xianyun might like getting to help her out on some of her cases. She’d be good at noticing little clues, and two sets of eyes are bound to be better than one.

That’s part of why she had invited aer out to help on this trip. Andromeda doesn’t know exactly what she’s looking for. This is a personal trip, one meant to help with her research on her ancestors’ culture. She doesn’t even know if she’ll find the answers she’s looking for out here, and part of her knows that she probably won’t. Learning everything there is to know about a long lost civilization on a single trip is impossible, even with Xianyun providing her insight from what she remembers of it. But if nothing else, Andromeda likes getting to spend time with aer.

Though, as she looks up while they travel along one of the wooden bridges dotting Minlin, she’s not sure how much longer this expedition will last. Clouds have been hanging overhead for the whole trip, but they’re getting darker now. Andromeda can feel in the atmosphere that rain is coming, and the clouds will burst at any moment.

“It looks like rain soon,” she points out, frowning at the dark clouds hanging overhead. “We should try to get to a shelter or something.”

“We are not far from one’s abode,” Xianyun says. She looks out of the corner of her eyes to Andromeda, like she’s checking to see her reaction.

Andromeda can pick up the underlying message in Xianyun’s words. This is an invitation— a very important one. There aren’t many people who can say they’ve been invited into an adeptus’ home, but now ae’s offering Andromeda the chance to see hers.

“We could go there then. If you want,” Andromeda says.

“One is not so fickle that one would invite you to my abode and then change one’s mind,” Xianyun states, as matter-of-fact as ever. “Come along, dear. One will lead the way.”

Andromeda won’t say no. She’s curious about what Xianyun’s abode looks like. She’s heard bits and pieces— that this is a place where she does work on her inventions, that it’s essentially located in a pocket dimension made with adeptal energy. But Andromeda is sure that it’s more interesting in real life than words can describe. Especially if it’s anything like the adeptus that lives there.

The two of them make their way up Mount Aocang, following along the path to the top. Andromeda’s glad that Xianyun stays with her the whole way up to the top. It’s not that this is a particularly challenging climb, it’s easy to follow along the path up, but it’s time consuming. Still, Xianyun would be able to fly to the top if ae wanted to, making it up far faster than they’re moving right now.

The walk up is mostly quiet, though Xianyun comments on things they pass by as they go. Andromeda always likes hearing her insight, and with it not having the pressure to respond more with the occasional word or sound to confirm she’s listening. Ae always has something interesting to say, though, and she thinks that she could listen to aer speak for hours and never get tired of it.

By the time they make it to the plateau at the top of the mountain, it looks like the storm is about to begin. Heavy gray clouds hang overhead looking like they’re seconds from bursting. Xianyun leads the way past the lake at the center of the area, guiding Andromeda up into the caves that form her abode. Ae pauses at the entrance, motioning with aer hand like ae’s turning a key. A bit of adeptal energy hums around her and the entrance to the abode glows before allowing them in.

Andromeda had heard about how impressive an adeptus’s home was, and she had heard from Xianyun about aer abode before. Still, it’s far bigger than she would have expected, glowing golden bridges stretching out into an infinite sea of clouds with floating islands dotted through it. Andromeda’s sure that if she ventured deeper in she’d find some of Xianyun’s various inventions, and part of her is curious about where she usually goes here to rest.

“This is amazing,” Andromeda says.

“One was responsible for designing and creating this space,” Xianyun says, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Ae’s cute when ae’s smug.

“You did great work. It must be nice to spend some time alone here. It’s kinda like your own private sanctuary,” she says.

“Perhaps it does not simply have to be one’s own sanctuary. Should you come to Mount Aocang when you’re alone on your investigations, you will always be welcome to visit one’s abode for as long as you may need,” Xianyun suggests, sounding far more hesitant than she usually does. “What is one’s shall be yours.”

Andromeda smiles, taking Xianyun’s hand in hers. She rubs her thumb down the back of aer hand. “Thank you, Xianyun. I— you’re very important to me.”

“And one finds one’s self growing more and more fond of you with each day,” she replies.

Andromeda wishes that she were taller so she could give Xianyun a kiss. Instead she gives aer a kiss on the back of the hand, hoping that’s enough to convey all she feels for aer.

Hidden away in Xianyun’s abode, Andromeda can’t hear the sound of the storm outside. But as Xianyun guides her deeper into the place she’s called home for years, Andromeda thinks they could wait out any storm together.

#asks #☁️#☁️ on cloud nine #💧 andromeda #my writing #selfship fic #haze #thanks so much for the prompt!#sorry for the wait lol

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unforth · 1 year ago

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Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

#unforth rambles #this wasn't really prompted by anything #I'm just sick and tired and distractable #or i should say it wasn't prompted by anything recent or that happened now #like no one has disrespected me #but as i hit the point that it's regularly taking me an hour plus every single day to queue things for the danmei art blogs #i just think of all the times people go WAIT YOU RUN ALL OF THOSE??? BY YOURSELF???#like i just don't think a lot of people realize how much work it is to really do background fandom labor long term #and i appreciate places like rec blogs and networks and events and just everyone #y'all are awesome #thank you so much

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pricklenettle · 8 months ago

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inspired by this post, Danny’s lost in the ghost zone and comes across pariah dark’s keep. I had to draw it and had The most fun with the spooky green ghost zone

#danny phantom #my art #dp #danny fenton #fright knight #the ghost zone #i think it would be cool if the other side of the portal was really huge and obvious #and then of course danny gets lost and has no idea how to get home anyway #i was having a long art block and this series really got me drawing again #so thanks to the original prompt!#I got to use my dip pens for this one too #which I haven’t for a while #so that was fun #the quality of the lines changes so much between ball point pens fine points like micron #and dip pens

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erwinsvow · 8 months ago

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Do you think rafe would wear necklace with his girl’s initial?? Like his girl bought it as a present and i’m curious on how rafe would react 😃

"so what i'm hearin' is you got me somethin' with my own money?" rafe asks, looking down at the neatly wrapped box, a pretty white ribbon looped around it. your fingers play with the satin bow, anxious for rafe to open it.

"rafe!" you start with a whine but stop yourself. "it's the thought that counts, okay?" he laughs, taking the gift from your hands.

"sure, kid. whatever you say." he undoes the bow, setting it aside since he knows you'll want to keep it. the wrapping paper gets ripped up and off, while you protest that it could have been reused. he opens the box, looking down at a thin silver chain. there's a little pendant hanging down, the shape of your initial.

he looks up from the chain at you, waiting for his response with big eyes and parted lips. you're playing with your R necklace, the way you always do when you're nervous.

"d-do you like it? i thought we could match," you say quietly, biting you lower lip in anticipation.

"yeah?" he questions, taking the jewelry out of the box and into his hand, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

"only if you like it. you don't have to wear it, i just-"

"just what?" he looks you right in the eyes, wanting your real answer, not just you bouncing around his question from nerves.

"i just wanted to make sure everyone knows you're mine." you lip stings from where you're biting down, rafe look into your eyes.

he opens his arms, and you crawl into his lap, taking the chain from his palm and putting it around his neck, clipping it into place. you smile, pressing a kiss to rafe's cheek, his hands tight on your waist.

"got that right, kid."

#babe i adore this prompt and you so much.#thank you <3333 hope you love angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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puppetmaster13u · 7 months ago

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Prompt 295

So, maybe Danny should have been more specific when he said he wanted to get reincarnated, because this? Is not an ideal situation.

See he’s fine with being a clone, really, but uh, apparently the scientists want to terminate him- which, like dude, he’s not even melting or actively dying! So what if he failed at their tests, his body is three, give him a break!

Well, at least it’s given him certainty in getting out, because these are Not good people. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt and- hold up, another clone? Brother? Two brothers? One aged up, one in the middle of it- since his own aging-up failed past three?

Oh hell no, they can’t experiment on his brothers, those are his brothers and living people just as much as he is! Time to break out- and he’s taking those papers thank you- and gonna’ grab his… he’s gonna’ call them his triplets because they’re the same age, just aged differently.

Now hold his hand, they’re runnin’ to the mountai- oh thank fuck, the physically-oldest of them can fly. To the mountains while they have the cover of night and they can figure things out. At least his life isn’t boring yet…

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Danny is Match’s & Kon’s brother au #Match is a superman/wonder woman clone- hence why his power is too much for him to control at first #Kon is his canon luthor-clark test tube baby #Danny is a superbat clone #He’s also physically the youngest at 3 while Connor is 10 & Match is 16 #The Heroes *BARELY* miss the trio’s escape #The three of them looking at the science papers:#Kon: I can’t read yet :(#Danny with lisp from baby kryptonian fangs: I can read the files for us :D #Match is huddled in the cave they found because he can’t deal with sunlight yet #He’s also the most traumatized thanks to being the first clone & used for testing #& will shove the smaller behind him when they finally get found while silently snarling #He is Not letting them Terminate his Tiny Brothers #Meanwhile the heroes who were Not expecting the clones to be so Baby are trying not to externally freak out #clone danny

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gunstellations · 6 months ago

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cute little requests!!

#didnt spend a lot of time on these but i had so much fun they make me wanna scream #thank u guys for entertaining me #prompts were: hugging/sonic->shadow belly rub (losing my shit at how fucking cute that mental image is)#sonadow #my art #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic #doodles #feel free to go wild in my inbox (as much as tumblr allows-)

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luxaofhesperides · 9 months ago

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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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