#Thank you so much for the prompt!!

[definedareasofuncertainty]

I scratch your head, you fall asleep

Like a tattooed golden retriever

But you awaken with dread

Pounding nails in your head

But I've read this one where you come undone

I chose this cyclone with you

He worried too much.

That was one of the multitude of things that had surprised her about him. Klaus had always seemed carefree — or well, that was perhaps not the best word to describe him, but he had always committed to appearing so above everything and everyone. The most powerful creature on the planet. What could possibly concern him? What could possibly affect him so?

A lot, it seemed

They were cut from the same cloth, as far as she could tell. Anxiety and worry coursing through their veins. That insistent, pounding voice in their heads always going — will this ever be enough?

Will I ever be enough?

They had only differed when it came to the choice of their coping mechanism. Her lists and overbearing-ness. His murder sprees and siblings locked in coffins. Oh, well.

Still. It both filled her with relief and endless unease to watch him now. It was, on one hand, so very comforting to think that he was so similar to her. She could understand him as well as she could herself, and he could read her like she was a book he had written. But it was like a tight grip around her heart, knowing that he sometimes suffered as much as she did.

Even now, his head lying on her lap as she caressed his curls… a frown was ever-present between his brows. Caroline felt tempted to press her fingertips against the crease on his skin and smooth it over, but she knew his concerns wouldn’t be so easily squabbled. Something about Rebekah choosing to move across the ocean. Something about how he sometimes looked at Caroline and seemed to wonder if she would leave him too.

She would be offended by his doubting of her loyalty if she didn’t understand the fear of loneliness too well.

Caroline didn’t comment on it, though. She continued to run her hand through his hair, allowing his content sighs to echo deep with her heart. In a little while, she would make a comment on how maybe he liked her petting him so much because of his wolf nature. And he would growl and protest and hide a smile at her terrible joke.

And maybe little by little he would understand. She was here to stay.

[karl-raccoon-in-a-teacup]

For the ask game: "Teruko had finally found her favorite game to play, and though she thought it was the most fun thing she'd found in years, the rest of the Hunting Dogs weren't nearly as amused."

Teruko my beloved...

Teruko had finally found her favorite game to play, and though she thought it was the most fun thing she'd found in years, the rest of the Hunting Dogs weren't nearly as amused. "Maybe we can convince her to stop?" Tachihara whispered to Jouno, eying their vice captain while she cackled in victory. "If you'd like to be the one to stop her, be my guest!" Jouno responded in faux cheeriness. Tachihara paled, and Fukuchi laughed, clapping a hand on both Hunting Dogs' shoulders. "Ah lighten up! Our little devil is having a fun time, who are we to deny her?" Tetcho seemed like he wanted to argue, but whatever he might say is, of course, interrupted by another water balloon to the back of his head. And there was really no coming back from that.

[capybaraonabicycle]

If I could make a request for the Kiss writing ask, how about Fugitive!Doctor/River (or Mels, your choice), with number 18. For encouragement! Thank youuuu <3

Thank you for the prompt dear! An excellent choice in my totally unbiased opinion :)

I'm feeling slightly guilty because I should have

A) finished the Osgate kiss before this one and

B) reblogged your beautiful piece before answering this ask.

But I need to get this out before I can continue with anything else so here we go. I hope you like it!

Some things first however:

Despite there technically not being any need for them specifically in the scene, I would still like to apologise for sidelining the Paternoster Gang here. I would have liked to focus more on them but this is already too long. Plus, like, my general inability to nicely include 5 people in a scene.

(Also, I think this is the first time you're reading me writing the Paternoster Gang and I am accordingly very nervous.)

(However, I did need another couple to be with Doctorriver here and my first instinct was to choose Bill and Jenny - because this Doctor should meet her daughter and granddaughter and so should River. But then I thought you would prefer the other Jenny plus Vastra and I came up with a nice role for Strax, too, so the scene changed marginally)

Also, this snippet is more 'a lot of encouragement with a kiss hidden somewhere' than 'a kiss for encouragement' but I hope you don't mind?

And, finally, just to reassure you: this may initially read like angst, but it's pure fluff. I promise <3

Rating: Teen

Defeat and Encouragement (Fugitive Doctor x River with a side of Jenny x Vastra)

The Doctor was lying on the floor, defeated. Her eyes were closed, all tension gone from her body. She suddenly looked the millenia old that the man River had once married had possessed despite his childlike face. Neither her nor the Doctor were sure how many millenia this incarnation had lived and forgotten about but they had surely added to his already impressive number and right now the Doctor seemed to have fast forwarded to that point.

Half of her body lay draped over the plastic canvas, her left arm resting on top of a red spot, the other limbs had rolled off onto the wooden floor of the Victorian sitting room.

"Is she -"

There was honest concern in Jenny's voice, but she broke off when River's gaze shot her way. Even Vastra had a noticable tension to the way she held onto her wife as they helped each other into an upright position. But there was also an amused smile tugging at her lips and River wasn't certain that she found it more aggravating than contagious.

The Doctor let out a soft groan, almost a whine, as if to prove she was still alive.

"Shall I shoot him?" Strax asked eagerly, lowering down the tablet he was holding. "Put him out of his misery?"

"That's alright, dear" River held him back, "Let me talk to her."

She crouched down next to the Doctor and reached out for the hand on the canvas - not quite touching but hovering close.

"Sweetie?" she asked gently. "Are you getting up?"

There was a miniscule shake of the Doctor's head, barely visible.

"We've lost" she managed quietly. That was all she seemed willing to contribute.

"We've lost the battle" River argued with a smirk. "We can still win the war."

The Doctor finally turned her head to squint up at her.

"When you've lost 6 out of 6 battles" she muttered, "there comes a point where you have to ask yourself whether you aren't losing the war, too."

Now River tapped their fingers together and immediately, the Doctor complied, grasping her hand. River leant closer, whispering:

"When you've lost six battles, you'll have your wife telling you to get up and win the seventh with her."

The Doctor glowered. "That's what you told me the last five times."

River smiled.

"And I will tell you again a seventh time" she promised.

"If Gat could see me now" the Doctor groaned, closing her eyes again. "Decades of Division training, superior timelord reflexes and all that. And then I get beaten by a couple of Earthlings."

At the last sentence, there was a smile tugging at her lips however, as if the irony and ridiculousness of the situation started seeping through the fog of her mortification.

"If Gat could see you now, she would tell you the same as I do" River said. "To get up and fight."

"Wrong" the Doctor let out a dry laugh. "She would tell Strax to go ahead and shoot me."

"Come on now." River pulled at her hand and reluctantly, under groans of pain, the Doctor followed her into a sitting position. River cupped her cheek and she leant into the touch, looking up at her through her lashes.

"We're not giving up now, are we?" River whispered.

She lead their faces together and pressed a gentle, encouraging kiss to the Doctor's lips. It was merely a peck, short and sweet, but the effect was stunning. The Doctor chased after her lips, sat up straighter and her expression brightened visibly. She was not the only one: Even after all these years and different incarnations, the smallest exchanges of affections with her spouse never failed to give River butterflies.

Her voice slightly hoarse, she continued: "You and me? We can do this. We've fought loads of tougher battles before."

"I don't know about that." The Doctor's gaze flitted towards Jenny and Vastra, but River called her back to attention.

"Are you seriously ready to give up, Doctor?"

She hadn't meant for it to sound that mocking, not with this Doctor. In an older regeneration the comment would have fueled ambition, the need to prove themself. But her wife took the stubbornness in the opposite direction.

She jutted her chin out provocatively, fixating River. "What if I am?"

River relented. "Is there really nothing I can do to persuade you?"

She brushed her thumb against the Doctor's lip suggestively, but naturally, the Doctor's brain jumped away the very second she promised gifts.

"You could let me have the last piece of the chocolate cake Jenny made?" she said hopefully, glancing between their friends.

"If that's what it takes for you to get off the floor" Jenny said and now amusement was apperent in her voice as well.

The Doctor weighed the offer thoughtfully for a moment, then she nodded resolutely.

"Alright" she agreed, "let's do this!"

She let River pull her to her feet and righted her waistcoat with emphasis. "I'm ready."

"Ready to eat dust for the seventh time?" Vastra teased and Jenny playfully hit her shoulder.

"Be nice" she scolded her, before turning and smirking at River. "It's not their fault they're hopeless at their game."

River looked at the Doctor, curious whether her battered pride would make her bristle, but the encouragement seemed to have worked as she was looking back calmly.

"On the contrary" she said cheerfully. "We're ready to make you eat your words. Aren't we, love?"

She leant against River conspiringly who grinned up at her.

"Seventh time's the charm?" she offered and the Doctor's mouth twitched merrily.

"Obviously" she agreed, definitely as aware as River that they were about to go down against their friends yet another time.Apparently excellent martial arts and sword skills trumped timelord biology when it came to human party games. "And anyway I've already been promised a piece of cake, so who's winning in the grand scheme of things?"

'Won a cake for putting on a show' River thought fondly, and she had to lean in to kiss that smug smile off her face. They really were the same dramatic idiot in every one of their bodies.

"Can we continue now?" Strax raised the tablet with an air of importance.

"I believe we can" Vastra assured him, offering her hand to Jenny to lead her to their side of the canvas. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Of course, my darling" Jenny agreed readily.

River raised to her tiptoes, whispering into the Doctor's ear: "Let them laugh, we'll laugh later."

"Yes, when we'll share my cake" the Doctor whispered back and River let out a surprised snort.

"Were you playing the long game after all, Sweetie?" she hummed. "Are you actually really good at this?"

"Prepare to be amazed, love" the Doctor boasted, full of false bravado that River was sure she would regret in an instance.

"Positions!" Strax ordered sharply, turning the arrow on the tablet with enthusiasm. He looked up, smirked devilishly and pronounced loudly: "Left hand: Green. I hope you'll enjoy getting twisted in excruciating pain!"

[ID: gif of a spinning twister tablet. end ID]

I hope it got clear what is happening here? It seems very clear in my head but I am not sure that it translates to the outside. Maybe it's a good idea to read it twice if it's a little confusing at first.

In case it doesn't become clear, here's what happened in my head up until this point:

The Doctor and River visited their friends

The Doctor proposed a game of Twister

Strax was delighted because that sounded refreshingly violent

Strax is an excellent strategist and very strong but agility is not his forte so he very quickly lost interest when he kept failing after one or two spins

He did delight in being referee though, spin the arrow and watch the others struggle

To make matters more interesting, someone (maybe River?) proposed to make it a couple's game one couple against the other

From that point on the Doctor and River have lost every single game and the Doctor is done by now - hence staying on the floor after falling from a failed reach for a spot with some limb

Oh yeah, also, please don't ask me how this fits into canon. I have no idea.

[unforth]

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.

[erwinsvow]

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."

[celestialwrites]

saying ‘i love you’ without saying ‘i love you’ dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “to me, you are perfect.”

♡ "don't you realise? you are my world."

♡ "you brought me back to life."

♡ "the only way i know how to describe what i feel around you is home. i feel at home."

♡ "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out."

♡ "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit."

♡ "with the whole of my heart, i believe that together we are infinite."

♡ "i never intend on leaving you. you hear me? never."

♡ "thank you for being the shoulder i always needed, even when you hated me."

♡ "i can't live without you!"

♡ "never leave me, my heart couldn't bear it."

♡ "i've spent my whole life waiting for you."

♡ "consumed in darkness, you darling, were my light."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

[merimerz]

day 10: storm

[hydrachea]

Thinking about Robin and Sunday's halos.

About how Robin's halo isn't a closed circle, but more like a branch forming a circular shape, where the start and stem don't touch. It's also uneven in shape and splits into three flowers, like it's allowed to grow freely, unobstructed. Something about Robin having left Penacony and having escaped the confines of her cage, being able to flourish. About her being able to let people in, and connect to them.

Meanwhile Sunday stayed behind to be the head of the Oak family and conform to the strict role that's expected of him, and his halo is a perfectly symmetrical shape that's practically fully closed off. It's sharp, almost more like a crown of thorns than a halo. And it almost doesn't have any openings to let anything, or anyone, in easily. It actively discourages getting close to it.

And then if you want to get sappy about, which I will - Sunday doesn't let anyone in, with that almost completely sealed, thorny halo of his... But there's an opening in Robin's halo, and so it can fit around Sunday's. Something about him always being able to find solace in her, because there's room for him in her (halo) heart always, by design.

Anyway I'm not normal about them.

[ominouspuff]

Vode An

REQUESTS / BLOG EVENT

From @ulchabhangorm - Palette#1 - Commander Wolffe - Music stirs the soul

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Jazz gets death threats working at Arkham Asylum. She thinks they’re hilarious. I mean, it’s hard not to laugh when you’re technically considered Queen Mother of The Infinite Realms. In her mind, the notes are basically telling her to go home and hug her brother/child.

The Batfam are growing increasingly concerned and confused as to why she doesn’t take these threats seriously.

[carmyboobear]

Honestly I think if Carmy does dirty talk (once he gets some experience) he’s really going to love being condescending, and it’s so hot…

I AGREE. So much in fact that this was born. Wow. Heed the tags and proceed!!

Tags: explicit, dom carmy, cumplay, dirty talk, creampie, carmy being mean, but also sweet

“You’re so easy,” Carmy says with a smug look. He’s pushing his cock steadily and and out, repeatedly stretching you out further when he bottoms out again and again. “All you need is a cock in you and you’re almost fuckin’ coming already.

“You just feel so good,” you whine in defense, but with the way you’re clenching down around him, pussy so wet it’s dribbling, it’s not very successful.

“You just like being stretched out,” Carmy retorts. He pulls back and lets the round head pop out before bullying his cock back into you. You writhe below him. “It doesn’t have to be my cock. Could be my fingers. Almost got all 5 fingers in there last time, didn’t we?”

“Carmy,” you moan, your pussy wrecked by his relentless pace and his dirty, dirty words. “B-But I—I like your cock…”

“I think you just like it when I come in you,” he says, voice low in your ears. “You like the feeling of my cum inside you. Whether it’s in your pussy or down your throat…” His fingers tweak at your clit, flicking it up, and you flinch with a surprised moan. “I should get a plug to keep it all inside you.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, scandalized, but the telltale sign of dense heat weighing in your gut says otherwise.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you? Going through your day with my cum in your pussy?” Carmy’s grinding his thick cock inside you, getting sweet friction on your walls. “Fuckin’ slut.”

His fingers pinch your clit, and you let out something akin to a sob.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasp. The pressure’s so fucking tight. “Carm—“

“You’re so easy,” Carmy laughs lowly, breathlessly. “Go on, take it. Come like the easy slut you are.”

His fingers glide from side to side on your slippery clit in a blur as he thrusts in an even, firm rhythm that has you choking on your own gasps. You come with overwhelmed tears in your eyes, moaning Carmy’s name so loud it’s almost a scream. You’re throbbing so tightly on his dick like it’s a lifeline.

“Th-that’s fucking right—fffuck—“ His moans are deep, resonating from his core. He staggers inside you from the sharp pleasure of your tightening walls. He fucks you through your orgasm, stretching it out like a thin piece of gum until it snaps, and in turn, your hole sucks his cock so much he comes.

When he pulls out, his soft cock is smeared in a shiny mixture of your combined cum. Your cream lays thick on his shaft, and somehow, there’s still beads of his cum in his slit. Your mouth waters looking at it. So does your pussy. Carmy’s cum, pale and abundant, pools rapidly at your abused entrance and spills over.

“Look at you,” Carmy murmurs in awe. His thumb drags up from where you’re leaking and sinks inside, pushing his cum back in. “Took me so well, baby…”

He praises you with little kisses and affection, kissing gently at your legs, stomach, collarbone. Brings you close to him, brushes sweaty strands of hair out of your face.

“Sorry if I went too far,” Carmy mumbles after you’ve both come down. Your head rests on his chest, and you’re playing with the curls of his hair. “With anything.”

“You were wonderful,” you assure him. “Could’ve even been a little meaner and I would’ve liked it.” That gets an abrupt laugh out of him, equal parts embarassment and delight.

“Oh yeah?” You can tell by the way he’s saying it that he’s choosing to take that as a challenge. You can see the gears turning, and it’s making you a good kind of nervous. “I think I got a couple ideas.”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, like it doesn’t make you wanna squirm, and he smiles knowingly, bringing you in for another kiss.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Mushroom body

(for @mikkeneko)

[capybaraonabicycle]

Kiss 38 for Mels and Fugitive💔

Thank you so much for making me write for my AU the first time in half a year, love!

I had a blast coming up with a scene I hadn't planned on, because I had actually already written the grand final kiss with time running out in an earlier part of the AU. So, for context, this is the night before that part, when the Doctor already knows what will happen the next day but Mels remains oblivious (in order to improve the chances of their escape working). If you have more questions, just ask, I'll be very glad to talk about the whole situation more :)

But yeah, in a nutshell: The Doctor and Lee are planning to fake all of their deaths and flee Division with Mels and Karvanista (leaving Gat behind). The Doctor will turn herself human and hide on Earth with Lee. Mels and Karvanista are supposed to be sent to Leadworth where she will be instructed to wait on the bowtie!Doctor to be ready to kill him, should he ever come into existence. (Which is what they are trying to prevent by running away - the Doctor believes the Bowtie (who she knows about from Mels' tales) to be herself under Tecteun's influence.)

I hope you like it!

A kiss because time is running out

Rating: Teen

Genre: Angst that I somehow managed to weave some fluff into

Warnings: Necromancy, mentions of a siege, carelessness in regard to alcohol abuse, some swearing

Words: ~3500

The Doctor had seen many a beautiful sight in her life. Meteor showers were always a vision, or fogbows that stretched across the sky in milky glory, or a swarm of these tiny insects they had had on Mondas that shimmered in whatever colour contrasted the background the most, or – the point was, she could name a thousand beautiful things off the top of her head if asked. But the most beautiful thing in all of the universe, she found, were the traces of amazement blooming on a face. The innocent joy, the pleasant surprise, the immediate love for something you didn't quite understand yet – there was nothing that beat the sight of someone being hit by unexpected wonder.

So, when Lee asked her if there was anything else he could get her, there was really only one answer she could think of.

“Where are we going?” Mels was trailing behind and inadvertedly pulling at her hand, ever incapable of simply following, be it an order or literally walking after the Doctor.

The Doctor looked back for a second to smile at her fondly: “On a date.”

“At Division headquarters?” Mels frowned, but she did press her hand in silent gratitude. “Can't we sneak out?”

“Not tonight” the Doctor said.

'Not anymore' she thought. Not that they had managed to sneak out much at all in their time together; she could count the precious few times on one hand, actually. So many missed opportunities, so much lost time that they should have stolen back from Tecteun.

"We're going to need our energy resources for tomorrow" the Doctor said. Which was true, in a way, but mainly they needed to stay under the radar more than ever.

"Yeah right" Mels scoffed. "For a siege."

The Doctor frowned at her.

"There are people starving during that seige" she reminded her. "Nevermind the casualties when a shot does get through the defences."

A tender expression crossed Mels' face for a second, then she shook her head.

"You're as sentimental as they come" she claimed. "But even you can't deny that a siege is rather boring compared to what Tecteun usually throws us in."

"Which is why we need to be on guard" the Doctor said, and Mels' eyes lit up.

"Do you believe she has an ace up her sleeve?" she asked eagerly. "That there will be an unexpected twist and it won't be a pure stealth mission after all?"

"You sound awfully excited at the prospect" the Doctor snorted.

"Course I do, honey, you know me" Mels grinned and the Doctor grinned back.

"That I do" she agreed, stopping next to a door. "In here, love."

"The kitchen?" Mels asked in surprise when they entered and a pleased and teasing smile grew on her face. "Doctor, you haven't cooked for me, have you?"

"No" the Doctor flinched.

Of course! That was what she should have done, wasn't it? What was the romantic thing to do? What she wouldn't have given for a little more time now. Just so she could make a mental note to cook for Mels another time, to live up to her, be the partner she deserved.

She made the mental note anyway and it felt like defying her fate. Maybe she would remember, eventually. Maybe they would meet again, someday. Maybe then she would be able to fulfil the unspoken promise. It was about as likely as Tecteun suddenly deciding to sent her into retirement and springing for a pension. But, as Mels would have pointed out if the Doctor had been able to tell her any of this, minuscule chances literally were their daily bread. So who knew? Maybe this would actually all end well. Now she only needed to find the hope she had lost somewhere and to start believing in that.

"Maybe for the best" Mels teased. "I doubt you can make an omelett without burning down the kitchen."

The Doctor huffed. "You're one to talk. I remember when you tried mixing Gat a drink and she said it tasted like pure absinthe."

"Who says that wasn't by design?" Mels smirked. "She was the most fun I have ever experienced with her that night."

"The drink was literally burning" the Doctor pointed out. "I don't believe that was by design."

"It's called a 'flaming drink', darling" Mels deadpanned. "It's totally a thing, my grandpa even orders those."

"Brian orders flaming drinks?" the Doctor echoed. It didn't quite fit the image she had formed of the man from the memories she had seen in Mels' mind.

Mels groaned. "Okay, fine, his mates do. The point is, I am a legit cocktail-connaisseur. And I could also cook an omelett. Probably. Possibly. If I had to."

The Doctor's mouth twitched amusedly. "Let's just stay away from the stove, maybe, what do you think?"

"Good call" Mels pressed her hand, curiously peering around her back when the Doctor approached the fridge. "What are we doing instead?"

"I'll blow your mind" the Doctor boasted, taking a glassbowl with a translucent liquid out the fridge.

Mels' eyes grew wide.

"Is that vodka?" she asked. "Are you actually getting drunk with me, honey?"

"I should not have mentioned the Gat incidence" the Doctor winced. "Now your mind is set on booze, isn't it?"

"I could go with ginger tea instead" Mels grinned, obediently taking the bowl that the Doctor handed her.

"Now there's a thought" the Doctor hummed.

If desperation clawed any harder at her hearts, she might let herself be convinced to go for ginger; hangovers were hell but she much preferred getting drunk on the root than the disgusting drinks that went for 'alcohol' around the galaxy. Not that she had planned on getting wasted on her last night with Mels, but forgetting what she was about to do the next day did sound tempting. Then again, it might increase the probability of spilling the beans and she could not, should not, had not to do that. Not this close to achieving their aim.

"So?" Mels was looking at her expectantly over the rim of the bowl, one eyebrow raised and instantly, the Doctor lost her track again, staring at that achingly familiar face.

How could she think she would be able to bid her goodbye? Mels had become a constant in her life, one of the few gleams bringing light into existence under the Division. For the last years, the Doctor had been leaning on her, more than she cared to admit. Separating from her would feel like giving up a part of herself. Except that it wouldn't, not instantly at least. Couldn't feel like losing a part of yourself when you weren't yourself anymore.

"Follow me." The Doctor pushed past Mels to hide her troubled face from clever eyes with eyebrows that threated pulling together.

She didn't look back, knowing that Mels was bound to be on her heels. Maybe she was excellent at following orders after all – the truth was of course that she always knew which orders were necessary. Or maybe it was that the orders Mels deemed necessary inadvertedly became the important ones. It didn't matter. It was all over now anyway.

The dining room of Division headquarters had a balcony protected by an airbubble. It wasn't like the Doctor had a key, but she had a Lee and that was basically the same thing.

"Sneaking out after all, are we?" Mels hummed, when they stepped outside and the Doctor shrugged and sat down on the stone floor.

"Just a bit."

"You're pulling out all the stops, I see." Mels sat down next to her, their shoulders brushing.

"Always for you" she couldn't help that her voice sounded way more serious than the banter demanded.

Mels cocked her head and the Doctor could tell she was slowly but surely growing concerned. And who could blame her, really? "Are you alright, Doctor?"

"Of course I am" she lied. "You know me, I am always alright!"

Which was precisely the wrong thing to say to Mels, of course, but the Doctor distracted her before she could argue. She tapped the bowl that Mels had set down in front of her knees. "Any idea why I gave you that?"

"Some" Mels smirked. "It's not vodka, I've smelled it."

"It's Polarfreyan oil" the Doctor explained. "Mind you, it's not actually from Polarfrey. No one knows where it comes from, but since it appeared to have come from far away, ancient Gallifreyans called it after the most distant planet they were aware of."

"If no one knows where it comes from, how come you have a whole bowl of the stuff?" Mels pointed out and the Doctor grinned.

"You can buy it at any good gift shop on Reave."

"Of course." Mels rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Nothing as irresistable as a gift shop, is there?"

"I love a little shop!" the Doctor said defiantly. "There's no need to tease me about it."

"Aw, but it's too easy" Mels cooed, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. "I'm so glad you spent your money on something as valuable as a bucket of oil, honey."

It hurt terribly to be mocked by her like this, when her voice slipped into that tender undertone and her eyes twinkled merrily, that cheeky smile pulling at her lips that always seemed to be reserved for the Doctor. It hurt when she knew that it meant Mels loved her, when she knew that it was all but over, when she knew that she was lying to her by not warning her of what awaited them the next day, when she knew that she was about to hurt her and she had been planning to do it for a while. The fact that there was no other way did not make it any better.

The Doctor swallowed all of those thoughts in one big gulp and managed to smile at Mels.

"You know, everytime you mock me like this" she started, "I suspect you are trying to get a rise out of me, dear, just so I give in and kiss you to shut you up."

"Oh no, my ulterior motives have been discovered" Mels hummed contentedly.

"I have been called a genius before" the Doctor said, righting her lapels.

Mels' hand wound around her neck, tipping her face into her direction from behind.

"Go on then, you genius" she taunted. "Shut me up."

Their faces were so close now that the Doctor thought she could see the stars reflect in Mels' eyes. Or maybe that was just the light from the kitchen. She tried imprinting the image into her memory, never to lose. Oh, but you know you can't keep your memory anyway, not where you are going, Doctor.

"Shut you up?" she echoed, her voice soft and husky. "And miss out on all the remarkable things you say? Why would I do that?"

"Of for fucks –"Mels hauled her in, guiding their lips together and pressing herself against the Doctor's body. Automatically, the Doctor's hands wandered to her back, holding her tightly and she let herself get lost in the familiar feel of how their bodies fit together.

She tried to blend it all out, just be in the moment, just enjoy the kiss and it worked surprisingly well. Apparently, it was difficult thinking of disaster when Mels Zucker kissed you, slowly, lavishly, like she didn't have a care in the world, like they had all the time in the universe at their disposal.

All too soon, Mels pulled back. Of course it was for a smug remark, what else would have distracted her?

"Want something done, do it yourself" she commented and made a move to dive back in.

The Doctor wanted to let her, too, it was incredibly tempting. But she had had plans for tonight and if they kissed any longer, she knew they would end up postponed. And as things were, they couldn't very much allow themselves any postponing, now could they?

So she caught Mel's jaw in her hand, tenderly cupping her cheek. Mels pulled an adorably cross face, but it softened, when the Doctor brushed her thumb over her cheek.

"Let's have your surprise first, love, what do you say?" she offered.

A smirk curled around Mel's lips. "I thought that was that pretty bowl of mysterious oil you got me?"

"Shut up" the Doctor said fondly and Mels' eyes lit up.

"Make me? This time?"

The Doctor ignored her in hope of getting somewhere tonight. Before their time ran out.

"It's not just any oil" she explained, picking the bowl back up from in front of Mel's knees. She held it out to her again and Mels' fingers deliberately brushed against hers when accepting the glass. "They also call it 'the oil of life'."

"Because...?" Mels indulged her, not without taunt.

With great flourish, the Doctor produced a stone from her pocket. "I have got something else for you."

Mels shifted the bowl into her lap in order to take the stone from her. With a frown, she regarded the gift, but it gave way to a smile when she recognised the fish skeleton that had been caught in the mineral.

"It's a fossil!" she realised.

"Thought you might like that" the Doctor teased. "Archeologist."

"Paleontologist" Mels corrected, eyes still on the fossil. "Paleontology is the study of fossils. Archeologists care about humans exclusively, or intelligent alien lifeforms eventually, I assume. Whatever, you secretly love my passion for archeology."

"I do" the Doctor admitted softly. "It is beautiful to see you passionate."

Now Mels looked up, slightly confused. "No arguing, really?"

"You will become an excellent archeologist some day" the Doctor said earnestly, not letting herself be discouraged. "People will be lining up for your talks."

"Yeah, right" Mels snorted. "Hate to inform you, love, that I can scarcely study archeology, stuck as I am with you at our beloved Division."

That, at least, was a pleasant secret the Doctor was keeping from her. That she wouldn't be stuck for much longer, that she would get to study archeology. The hard part was that she wasn't stuck with the Doctor either, much as both of them wanted that. It was quite the contrary, really.

The Doctor forced yet a new smile onto her face. "Would you like to see what the fish looked like, before it got fossilised?"

"Sure" Mels nodded. She looked expectantly at her, like she waited for the Doctor to produce a photo.

So, this was where the good part started, then. Suddenly, the Doctor's smile felt genuine again.

"Drop the stone into the oil" she ordered and the understanding and hopeful anticipation in Mels' eyes was already gorgeous enough to take her breath away.

Gingerly, Mels lowever the fossil above the oil.

"Maybe don't touch it with your bare skin" the Doctor said hurriedly. "I'm not sure what it would do to a living being."

Mels raised an eyebrow at her, stopping mid air. Then she gently let go of the fossil, pulling her hand away from the small splash of oil that the impact produced.

The stone sunk slowly into the liquid and Mels watched with fascination, how the skeleton started glossing over, colourful scales growing over bare bones, sprouting wavy fins and a sparkling eye, until, all of a sudden, the fish started moving. Mels gasped in delight, when with a decided flick of its tail, it shoved its encasing stone away and started swimming through the oil. The feeble light reflected off its scales in hues of brilliant purple and blue as it wound itself towards the surface of the bowl in tight circles.

"What's it doing?" Mels whispered excitedly, when already, the fish brust through the surface, swimming up into the air as easily as it had traversed the oil.

Mels let out another soft gasp and watched with a bedazzled smile how the fish swam up to her face. It hovered there for a while, looking like it admired itself in the reflection of her eyes. Or maybe it admired Mels herself, just like the Doctor had been doing the whole time. She had been correct: No wonders of the universe could measure up to the sight of bliss on her face.

Mels reached out with her hand, as if to let the fish sniff it – did fish have noses? - and immediately it turned around and took off, flying away in the direction of the stars. There was a soft 'plop' when it crossed the air bubble and then they were watching how it quickly disappeared in the dark depths of the night sky.

Mels' gaze dropped to the rest of the fossil, taking in how the bones had disappeared.

"How is this possible?" she muttered. "Did we turn it alive again? And how can it swim in air? How can it breathe in the vacuum? This is bonkers!"

"They don't call it 'oil of life' for nothing, dear" the Doctor quipped smugly.

"Nothing like a bit of necromancy to brighten up the evening" Mels snorted.

"That wasn't just any fossil" the Doctor told her, leaning over and dropping her voice so Mels understood the gravity of the tale. "It came across the Karax Rift from an alternate universe a few thousand years ago, and it is supposed that the corresponding fish species must have died out wherever it came from. That fish had been extinct for thousand of years in another universe! And now it is crossing our sky."

She smiled in awe at Mels, but for some reason, Mels was looking thoughtful.

"What will happen to it now? Will it ever die?" she asked and there was a strange strain to her voice.

The Doctor frowned. "I don't actually know. I suppose it must, some time. Everybody dies eventually."

"So, it will continue travelling the universe all alone" Mels concluded. "Perhaps indefinitely. The last, the only one of its species. And it doesn't even know whether there's hope it can ever find the way home."

It sounded like she wasn't talking about the fish anymore.

"Mels -" the Doctor started. I will take you home. I can't bring your people to you, but I will bring you back to your parents. Sooner than you can imagine. So much sooner.

She couldn't tell her. Couldn't tell her that travelling the universe was over for her now. Couldn't tell her that they would have to part. Couldn't even think of what she'd have to ask of her. How she would hurt her. And she couldn't say goodbye either.

"Betcha it's seeing some beautiful stars though, on its way" Mels tried a smile, when the Doctor couldn't go on. Her eyes were looking very shiny now, tears waiting to fall when she cupped the Doctor's cheek. "And visiting new worlds, making new friends. I bet it is making the most of its freedom."

"I'm sure of it" the Doctor promised.

"And at least it got to fly away" Mels mused. "What wouldn't I give if I could just – take your hand and go. Away from here, towards everything. Just you and me and the whole universe."

The Doctor had to gulp. "Now that would be something."

And it could be so good. Their imminent escape. It could be so liberating, it could be a reason for celebration. If only they got to stay together. If only this wasn't their last evening of knowing each other. If only time wasn't running out.

"Doctor?" Mels' voice sounded very far away, but the Doctor managed to return to her, when her other hand came up to her cheek as well, cradling her face from both sides. There was concern evident in her eyes, stronger now, but she soldiered on, like she always did, reassuring the Doctor. "Honey, hey. Don't give up on me now. We will get out of here someday. I promise."

Too soon. It's too soon.

Mels was wrong. And she herself was wrong as well: She did not kiss Mels to shut her up, she kissed her to shut up that desperate voice inside her head. Maybe it would content itself if she allowed herself to be as close to her love as possible.

Maybe, when Mels lips slotted against her own, soft and alive and insatiable and when her hands wandered from the Doctor's cheeks to her neck and the fabric of her shirt to pull her ever so much closer, maybe then the voice would finally stop reminding her of the end. Maybe, if she focused strongly enough, on the warmth growing in her stomach, the silk of Mels' skin against her own, on her smell permeating the air, her taste on her lips and tongue, maybe then she could stop time, just for a second, call it back one last time while passing the exit, make it stop in its tracks for just a moment, before it was gone. At least she would try her very best.

Thank you so much for reading!

[hatepotion]

oh boy do i have prompts for you!!! literally anything with cam because i love her so much. cam and gideon? cam and pal? cam and nona? cam and corona? cam and pal and harrow and gideon? possibly these are not good prompts because. i'm just listing characters so let me get back to you with more elaborate prompts lol

i stole this from a post you reblogged, so it's only fair :)

[erwinsvow]

an idea… rafe and shy reader having sex for the first time

everything's overwhelming with rafe, but this is particularly so. you thought you were completely ready for it, from the way you had handled everything else so well. in fact, rafe was the one taking things at the slowest pace possible, trying to make sure he didn’t pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

you didn’t like it—thought he was trying to be something he’s not. he’s gentle with you but never like this, never to this extent. it must be a big deal then, sleeping with rafe, giving him your virginity, you finally decide, if he’s acting so differently about it.

in fact, you think you’ve been ready to give it up since you first started dating him. rafe brings it out of you, coaxes a different side of you out with gentle words and soft touches. you’re going mad over it. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve crawled into his lap at any given opportunity, anywhere the two of you are alone—his truck, the couch in your living room and at tannyhill, the hidden booth at the country club. you’re begging for it, not sure how much more obvious you can get.

you finally decide tonight’s the night—following a nice dinner with the two of you. you had spent extra long getting dressed up, a pretty white lingerie set on underneath your blue dress, all done up for rafe. finally back at tannyhill, entire body vibrating and tingling with excitement, you don’t wait another moment, crawling into rafe’s lap and kissing him hard. you take off your dress and rafe stops just for a second to take in how forward you’re being.

“hey,” he finally breathes against your lips, pulling away. “c’mon, you’re not ready for this.” 

“yes i am!” you whine, impatient and horny, feeling rafe get hard underneath you. you want him to be able to do all the things you know he wants to do, want them done to you. “i am, i am-” and you lean back to kiss him, ending up pinned underneath him before long.

he knows you’re not, but he plays along. you’re so wet already he doesn’t have to do much, but he makes you cum all over his fingers anyways, hoping it’ll satiate you.

“please, rafe,” you moan against his mouth, pushing in for another needy kiss. “wan’ it inside. please.” and he does know you, knows everything about you, but even he can’t resist when you say things like that.

you watch with big eyes while he lines himself up with your wet hole, hovering over you. you think you’re so ready, that three of rafe’s fingers inside you should be comparable to what you’re about to feel, that you’re more than prepared. your eyes squeeze shut when rafe pushes inside, all the air leaving your lungs. you try to moan out but it’s more of a gasp than anything else, one that rafe swallows into a kiss. 

your eyes get watery—it’s just habit. it hurts, too, because rafe is so much bigger than you expected. you bite your cheek, looking up at rafe through teary eyes and clasping a hand over your mouth—you don’t want to admit that he was right. 

“c’mon kid, give it up. y’not ready for this, i know you,” rafe says, leaning in close to your ear to whisper it quietly. he’s not even half-way inside you.

“i-i can take it,” you hiccup. you hate disappointing rafe.

and it’s not that he doesn’t want to—he does, desperately so, wants to fuck you within an inch of your sanity every time you walk into a room and look at him with your shy eyes and sweet smile. he wants to break you, wants you cumming on his dick until there’s nothing left in your head, no shyness left in your heart. but he wants it when you’re ready for it, not like this.

it only takes another minute, you finally admit you’re not ready, and rafe pulls out of you. you feel like crying, terribly sad and dejected, wishing you could just be normal for rafe for once, be what he wants. 

“stop,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. his arm rests over your stomach, trying to get you to lighten up. “when you’re ready for it, i’ll fuck you until you can’t think. s’just not today, kid.”

you finally agree when he says that, getting over it because you know without a doubt in your mind—rafe knows you better than you know yourself.

[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”