#// This is bound to happen

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Thenamesh Doctor AU:

Thena looses unexpectedly a patient! And the only one who she needs is our beloved Gil

"No."

"Thena."

"No!" she snarls, fighting as Kingo tries to pull her to her feet--off the patient she's been trying to get back for nearly ten minutes. "He was fine!"

"T, come on," he says gently, reaching for her again.

"Dammit," she hisses, watching the colour of her patient's skin just get worse and worse. Some hair slips into her field of vision. "Check his eyes."

Ajak obeys, kneeling down and pulling his eyelids up. Completely bloodshot and nonresponsive--it's hemorrhagic shock, for sure. Ajak gives her a look, "Thena."

"Fuck!" she leans back, arms burning, lungs ice cold. She looks at her patient, to Ajak and Kingo and a few others gathered around. She looks at the clock, "time of death, 12:37."

The crowd parts for her, in no rush to try and get in the way of her temper. She snaps her gloves off and bins them as she storms through the hallways.

He was just a man in for a scare--a little murmur in his pacemaker that made his wife worry. He was nice; they talked about how he met his wife and how to make the best grilled cheese. He was a sweet man.

Thena walks into the on-call room and throws the door closed behind her. She runs her hands over her hair, pushing back the piece that's escaped. "Out."

The door never was able to close, stopped by a foot and letting in one other person who closed it gently. "Hey."

"Out, Gil," she repeats, but it has no real bite to it. She's not very good at snapping at him for real.

He already knows, whether it's from passing it in the hallway or just by looking at her. But he walks over to her, already poised to take her into his arms, "c'mere."

Thena just barely lets him pull her against him. She's stiff, at first, still trying to hold it in. She's not exactly done her shift, and they're going to come and get her any minute, she's sure.

"I've got you," Gil whispers as he encircles her in his arms and presses his cheek to the top of her head.

Thena turns her head, letting herself bury her face in his chest. He's so warm, and so soft, and he smells more like home than her apartment ever could.

Gil whispers sweet nothings as she breaks down in his arms, pressing her sobs into his chest. He rubs her back as she trembles against him. She's been doing this for a long time, she's no stranger to what this work is like. But if she's taking it this hard, then she actually liked the guy. Poor thing.

Thena turns her head against him, just enough to breathe. Her eyes sting and she can't see shit. Her breathing is erratic and she feels like she's freezing cold. Gil wraps his hoodie around her with his hands in the pockets. "It's not fair."

"It's not."

"He came in to be cautious," she snivels, wrapping her arms around the back of him and clutching at his shirt. He's so warm. "He came in so his wife wouldn't worry--it's not fair."

"I know."

She's done trying to reason it out. It's never going to get less unfair. She sighs, letting out whatever she has left in the tank.

Gil kisses the top of her head, swaying them faintly on their feet, "I'm sorry, Thena."

She closes her eyes, trying to let Gil's heartbeat drown out reality. "I have to call his wife."

"I know." That part is always the hardest. Harder than even losing them, trying to resuscitate their poor hearts. "Let me go with you."

"No," she practically whines as she pulls away from him. Back into the cold waters of reality she goes, wrapping her arms around herself. Gil is so warm, and the usually ambient hospital feels like the tundra to her now. "I should do it alone."

"You don't have to, though."

Thena lifts her head just enough to look at him. Neither of them is a stranger to hard days. He's also had his days when he wonders what they could have done differently--a single step they could have taken that would have kept someone alive.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning down and pressing a kiss at the corner of her lips. "I'm here if you need me."

She nods. She can't say anything now--talking requires thinking, and she needs all her autopilot skills to get through the rest of the next five hours.

Gil gives her shoulder one last squeeze before heading out into the hall. "Uh... "

The chill she was feeling sinks even deeper into her bones. Thena walks to his side, having already guessed what he was seeing.

The patient's wife is here, holding a sandwich and a bottle of water and weeping. This couldn't get worse. Thena squeezes past Gil and walks toward the poor woman, refusing to perceive the tears in her eyes. "Missus Langford?"

"Wh-Where's-"

"Why don't we sit down?"

Thena looks up as Gil guides the woman towards the far corner of the waiting area. It's not ideal, but they don't want her on her feet when she gets the news. She should have known he wasn't going to let her do this alone.

"Is everything okay?" the poor woman looks between them desperately.

Thena tries to get it out--she really does. But the woman takes one look at her face and crumbles into tears. "I-I'm so sorry, Missus Langford. Y-Your husband...he suffered a blood clot. He-"

"No," the woman sobs, her face contorting as grief takes her in its arms. "No, please!"

Thena's throat clamps tight. The smell of the homemade grilled cheese reaches her nose and she wants to throw up.

Gil leans over from his seat on the other side of her, "I'm sorry, Missus Langford. We did all we could, but I'm afraid...your husband passed very quickly."

"No!"

Thena turns away as Gil rubs the poor woman's arm. He's the better person for the job, anyway. She's not that good at comforting people. He looks at her and she swipes her tears away. The families can never see you break--if you can get a single thing right, it's don't let them see you break. She sniffles, "he was a very sweet man, Missus Langford. He told me all about you."

"H-He did?"

Thena nods, blinking through more tears, letting them obscure her vision of the older woman. "I got to talk with him during his examination. He told me about how you met at the movies."

The woman just starts crying even harder. Thena flinches but when she looks at Gil he nods for her to keep going. She shakes her head abut he nods even harder. She sighs; he's the comforting expert.

"H-He, um, told me about using mayo for grilled cheeses," Thena mumbles, trying to ignore the wax wrapped sandwich in the woman's lap.

"They-" she sniffles and laughs all at once, "they were his favourite."

Thena manages a smile and nods at the woman.

"I, um," Missus Langford presses her palms to her eyes and collects her purse. "I-I have to call-"

"Take all the time you need," Gil assures the woman in one fell swoop, still holding her shoulder and placing his other hand on her wrist. "I can show you to him, and the hospital will help you make arrangements, okay?"

"O-Okay," she nods as Gil guides her gently to her feet. She holds up the sandwich and water, "um-"

"It's okay," Gil smiles, gently patting her hands to deposit them back in her purse. "You'll need your strength. You should hold onto them."

Thena walks behind them, happy to fall into the background of things. Her feet squeak and drag as they guide the woman to her husband. "Missus Langford, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask, okay?"

The sweet woman nods at her, fresh tears coming into her eyes. They rise in Thena's as well, but the woman shakes her head. "You go, dear. I know you did everything you could for him."

Thena really feels like she could throw up.

"Someone will come in to ask how you want to proceed, Missus Langford," Gil steps in again, with that soft voice of his. "No one will rush you."

She nods her thanks to them again before moving to her husband's side behind the curtain. It happened so suddenly they don't even have a private room for her to do her grieving.

Gil plants his hand on Thena's shoulder as they walk away. "Hey."

She nods, swiping at her tears yet again. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to eat a grilled cheese sandwich again. She looks up as Gil threads her arms through his hoodie. It's nice and warm, at least. "You'll need it."

"I'm warm enough." He certainly is. He zips it up and even rolls the sleeves up for her. It's not exactly professional, but no one is going to dare to tell her that. "This poor old thing--might be time for a new one."

Thena subconsciously clings to it at the thought.

Gil kisses her forehead. "This one's all yours, baby."

She sighs. They have work to do. Mister Langford is going to be one of many patients tonight. And it's her job to make sure there are no more Missus Langfords so long as she can help it. "Thanks."

He nuzzles her cheek and kisses her temple, "always."

"See you after?" she asks in a small voice, her hand trailing against his until their fingers are clinging to each other.

He gives her a smile that helps her fight the insufferable cold of the night, "I'll find you."

He always does.

[yunwooz]

i feel like a lot of people excuse yujin’s mistreatment bc she was given another chance to debut and in a super successful group or her mistreatment isn’t as visibly bad as others but she legit,,,barely gets lines barely gets screen time and they very clearly only use her for that heroic ‘we’ve given her another chance to debut’ storyline then use that as an excuse to not talk about her lack of opportunities compared to the others

[paper-lilypie]

do not perceive me

[mummer]

rhaenyra outsourcing motherhood to rhaena and assigning her that passive feminine role was REALLY interesting….. rhaenyra as a character is at her most fascinating when she is forced to navigate and ultimately perpetuate the gendered structures she despises and wishes she could transcend— the seeds of her tragedy already sewn here. just great character work

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[milesworld96]

The only real ones in Judgement Day were the ones Edge picked out from the beginning ☹️☹️☹️

[revasserium]

know, know better

suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293

summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground

a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.

001.

He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.

“Ah — excuse me!”

“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”

By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.

“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”

You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”

You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.

He forces himself to look away.

“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”

Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.

“… your name?”

“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”

He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.

“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.

002.

He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.

“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.

“You know each other?”

Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.

“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”

“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.

“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.

“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.

“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”

You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”

“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”

“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.

There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.

“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”

Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”

003.

You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.

“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **

Not yet, at least.

Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.

“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”

“S-Suo…kun?”

“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.

“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.

When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —

“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.

“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”

He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.

“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”

004.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.

Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.

Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.

“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.

“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.

“You don’t have’ta single it out!”

Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.

“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”

“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.

“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”

They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.

“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.

“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”

You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.

“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.

“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.

The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.

Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.

“Know — better.”

A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.

“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”

You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”

In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.

“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”

You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”

Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”

You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.

“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”

“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.

“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.

You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.

But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.

005.

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.

“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.

He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.

“Mm… sweet!”

You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.

“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”

Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.

“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”

You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it just for you.”

“Oh?”

You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.

“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.

“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.

You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.

“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.

He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —

“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”

You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.

The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.

It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.

When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.

“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.

“Told you what?”

“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”

You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.

“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.

“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”

You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.

“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”

Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”

He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.

“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”

Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.

“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”

You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.

“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”

You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.

“And… if I don’t?”

Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.

“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”

[cursoulla]

Them your honour

[puppybong]

tim: (trying to make himself feel better about losing both of his parents in violent and devastating ways) it’s ok guys robin isn’t supposed to have parents

[0vergrowngraveyard]

boy entered my brain and would not leave

[leon-anna]

Okay so there has been a shockingly small amount of Echo in this last season and I'm a little bit pissed. Don't get me wrong I've been loving every minute of it, BUT!!! I miss my Echo. I miss him. And honestly we have to rectify the situation, so here you go!

And obviously we couldn't not include our boi Tech, who is still alive by the way. We know he looks a bit different in Leon's art style, but that comes with trying to meld Tem's looks with the clone wars style and our own personal head cannons.

[littleaipom]

I was not expecting S2 of Sonic Prime to immediately have me in its grip

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #26

(I'm feeling angsty today.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Going Supernova

The GIW have discovered his identity, and they don't waste time on using this knowledge to their advantage. They spent the last six months creating a weapon that not only hurts ghosts but absolutely obliterates them down to their very cores. After testing it for so long on minor ghosts and then discovering the local ghostly menace's secret, they have the bright idea to make an example out of Danny.

They ambush him as he's fighting the invading ghost of the day. Their first shot misses and hits the ghost they're fighting. As soon as the shot lands, the ghost freezes in place with a look of dread and horror.

They look up at Danny with tears in their eyes and has only a few precious seconds to say, "Run," before their skin cracks and they shatter, the miniscule shards evaporating into nothingness.

Danny is petrified and grief-stricken over what he just witnessed that he doesn't have the time to even twitch before the GIW lock their sights back onto him and shoot him in the back.

Agony consumes him. His chest burns, and his ribs rattle with the effort it takes for him to breathe through the pain. The civilians who were still on the scene gasped in horror as they watched their local hero's chest start to crack and glow from within.

What the GIW didn't know was that Danny had just recently elevated to Ancient status due to helping Clockwork with the timestream. That and with his status as a halfa, what they did will end in nothing but disaster. (1)

Danny spots his parents, sister, and friends in the crowd. His parents watched in awe and excitement while his Jazz, Sam, and Tucker looked at him with horror-stricken disbelief. Knowing what's to come and not having enough time to explain, he gives them a wobbly smile.

"I'm so sorry."

He whips around and rockets straight up into the sky. He breaks through the atmosphere in a matter of seconds and continues to fly at breakneck speed away from the little green-blue planet he calls home. He has to get away. He can't destabilize so close to them. He has to go even further.

His form is steadily breaking off into pieces as his human and ghost half fight and fail to keep him together. He can feel his human half dying and his ghost half barely holding on by a thread. He can't stop, though. If he stops here, the Earth will be destroyed from the backlash.

He had no worry for himself. After all, stars die all the time. That doesn't mean that's the end for them. They just take on a new form or even help breathe new planets and galaxies into life.

'A star's death is not the end!' He comforts himself.

He only makes it a few light-years further before his energy fades out to nothing, and he slows to a halt. It's only then that Danny starts to panic alone in the vacuum of space. The furthest he's even been from home and the comfort of his friends and family.

"No. No, no, no, no." He repeats over and over. "Not far enough. Not far enough! I'm still too close!!" (2)

His stuttering heart rabbits inside his chest along with his crumbling core. He hugs himself tight with the false hope that maybe that would stop himself from falling apart. He cries for his family, his friends, his planet. His life and lives he's about to take through no fault of his own.

Because for a star to give life, they must first destroy. (3)

"I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry! Please!"

He sobs into his hands as the light of his core pulses one final time.

"Please." He whispers brokenly.

His core shatters, and he screams for the entire cosmos to hear. His form expands with immeasurable force and shakes the very foundations of creation. His desperate attempt to spare the Earth from his self-destruction was in vain as the waves of his shattered core ravaged the solar system and destroyed everything within its path.

The countless people and other creatures on Earth didn't even have time to blink before they were completely eradicated. Quick and painless but nonetheless gone.

It took centuries for everything to settle again.

It wasn't until countless millennium passed that the solar system began to take shape again. However, everything was reshaped and put back together as though with a child's memory of what it used to be from so long ago. Some things were bound to be different, like how Mars gained its own population of intelligent humanoid creatures. How Earth's own population started to develop extraordinary abilities and magic was able to be used more freely outside of supernatural species.

Soon, there were heroes popping up all over the universe of all shapes, sizes, and species. Some people were even reborn. They started remembering a life that, as far as they knew, never actually existed. How could it? None of the people they were before showed up in any records. There were records, of course. They just, unfortunately, no longer existed.

No one knew why, either. At least not until a magic user stumbled upon a tome belonging to what they knew as the Underworld. It told the story of a young boy who died too young and was destroyed from what he became afterward. How his destruction also destroyed the world despite the boy's efforts to save it.

This story was shared with the masses of people experiencing these memories of other lives, including the heroes who took up the mantle of keeping the Earth and other corners of the galaxy safe. They mourned the loss of a life so young, so bright and full of potential. They hoped that wherever the child ended up, that they were at peace.

Little did they know, the child was part of the universe itself, his very being woven into the fabric that makes up the night sky and everything that lays beyond. They can't see or hear him, but that precious child--the Ancient of Space--laid curled around the Milky Way itself with Earth cradled gently in his trembling hands.

✦

(1) Because of his status as the new Ancient of Space and the fact that he is half human/alive is the reason his destabilization took longer than the ghost he was previously fighting. An Ancient has immense power of the aspect of reality they control, and his human half was desperately trying to keep him alive. He can't live without his ghost half, though. It was also the power of his Ancient status that made his destabilization so explosive and damaging. However, him being a halfa is also what saved his existence in the end and allows him to still continue to be the Ancient of Space, as Space itself is always in a state of dying and rebirth. It just took several thousands of years to pull himself back into a semblance of what he previously was, but obviously irrevocably changed.

(2) According to scientists a supernova would have to be within 30-50 light-years to trigger a mass extinction on Earth. To be actually completely safe from one, however, it'd have to be 160 or more light-years away. Danny didn't even make it to 20 light-years before his core self-destructed, which is why he was panicking.

(3) As I'm sure most of you know, supernovae are essential to creating life, but that life is preceded by the death of said star.

(*) I haven't really thought of who would be reborn into which character. I originally thought of Jack Fenton being reborn as Bruce Wayne, but Bruce only disguises himself as a himbo while Jack actually is one. The only reason I thought it would work out it because 1) Jack's paranoia about ghosts and translating into Bruce's own paranoia 2) him regaining his past memories would explain his propensity to collect black-haired, blue eyed children because of his loss of Danny and 3) him and his relationship with Jason after he came back as Red Hood.

Other than that, I can't think of who any of the other characters might be. You can decide!

[meowburgerz]

MY ORPHANS ARE ALL MORONS

[mysteriousmissme]

yk if i had a nickel every time mtsk was in this position while kou was possessed by an evil supernatural, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but still weird that it happened twice.