#look into orphanage volunteering and it’s consequences

[pensivegladiola]

I’m sure that there were individual missionaries that meant well, but as a whole missionary work was an instrumental part of colonization. And to this day has sometimes violent consequences (look up the “Nueva Luz de Dios” (New Light of God) cult in Panama or the implementation of the death penalty for LGBTQ+ people in Uganda).

The concept that people in colonized territories were uneducated, savages who were being saved by bringing Christianity to them was a core justification in colonialism.

As a few examples: It would lead to the advent of institutions like boarding schools in Canada where the systematic cultural genocide, sexual and physical abuse, and sometimes murder of indigenous children would occur. Christian missionaries also helped justify the subjugation of people in brutal colonial regimes like Belgium’s massive expansion into the Congo. And in many places, Christian missionaries were huge proponents of the slave trade.

There were Christian activists who opposed colonialism, slavery, and the subjugation of indigenous peoples, yes (although often this was done from back home in Britain, France, etc. by pressuring the government rather from a missionary standpoint). But that absolutely does not negate the fact that missionary work was an integral weapon in the arsenal of colonialism. There is a gigantic body of historical and sociological study that points to this. Whether Christian missionaries believed that they meant well in those regions is largely irrelevant when you consider the ultimate consequences of their actions there as part of a larger system.

It really is a huge disservice to equate colonization with missionary work because the priests who chose to do missionary work had to strip themselves of their wealth, cultural roots, and comfortable lifestyle in order to minister to the salvation of the indigenous people of the new country they moved to, while colonizers went to those countries in order to exploit them for their resources. It’s the extreme contrast of selflessness and selfishness. And often times, missionary priests had to stand against the colonizers in order to protect the human rights of the indigenous people much to the detriment of their own lives.

To associate missionary work with colonization is to dismiss their self-sacrificial work for the sake of the Heavenly kingdom hereafter while colonizers worshipped their earthly kingdom at the expense of their own salvation.

[junos-jrabbles]

Hi! I have a TF2 request/suggestion for you if you want. You can choose the mercs you like to use, though I may humbly request Engie. Romantic or platonic, and in whatever form you would like.

The team has a new recruit! They are one of the most genuine, patient, friendly, sweetest people one could ever meet. They make everyone breakfast in the mornings, they listen to people's problems, they volunteer at a puppy orphanage, talk down muggers in the street, essentially a bottle of sunshine as a person.

On the battlefield however, they are most certainly one of the scariest people alive. They are incredibly strong and durable, no need for weapons when they can tear people apart with their bears hands and teeth. They are brutal, carnage incarnate, and have absolutely no fear whatsoever.

Now, their sweetness is genuine, they are not faking anything. Outside of battle they are one of the most pleasant, stable people on the team. If ever asked, the best reply they can ever give is "This is a war with no true death. (Thanks to the respawn machine) When you can play a game with no consequences, why not have a little fun? ~"

What do the mercs think about their new teammate? How did they react to seeing their first time on the battlefield? How scary is the game with a player who doesn't care?

(sorry for the length there, I get all excited. This would obviously only really work if the respawn machine is a part of the setting.)

Thank you so much for the request!! My first one :) And don’t worry about the length!!! I love excited rambles x3

Sorry that this is short!! i wrote a little hcs list for this for a little more content, but it might take a lil longer to post LOL I'll link it here when it's ready <3 and sorry for the wait, i hope this is what you were lookin for!!

Wild, meet tame.

Engineer/GNC Reader, 1k words

It was like watching a switch flip, he'd never seen it before, ever. Not as drastically as it would with you, at least. One minute he'd be wiping encrusted blood off the turret of his sentry, remnants of some poor enemy Scout, when he'd turn his head to see you barreling into the front lines. The team's Medic struggles, then practically gives up trying to keep up with your rampaging pace.

“It's like zhey don't… don't care!” Medic howls, crouching down by his dispenser to recoup lost energy. He shrugs, you're one hell of a bottled storm out here, and he can only wonder if there's anything deeper down that you're hiding away. He can see you still, just barely, from the vantage point he'd set his nest in, and by God was it a bloodbath down there. The enemies are torn to shreds in seconds, not unusual when under fire from the hulking Heavy and his repertoire of miniguns. But, the lack of gunfire is what was most unsettling.

He could see you, teeth bared, lunging in a fruitful hunt for blood, the enemy soldier screaming as he tried to kick you off of him, nearly blowing you both to bits, but sky high like a bloody firework. It was effective, and their offensive pushes were a lot weaker with someone like you guarding the captured points. There was always a nervous hum in the air when someone would call out your death, a moment for the enemy to recoup, only for them to be torn down by your wrath again.

It'd been nothing but victories recently, and it was unlike anything they'd ever experienced. Even those above them had been a little nicer recently, and boy it sure was infectious.

“Y’doing alright there, Engie?” He closed the fridge door, and looked around. What had he come in here for, that your voice had drawn him out of his search for? The cold air that brushed past him raised a shiver across his skin.

“Whatever you're after, I can cook up, I don't mind.” You're humming, pouring something into a pan on the stove, and whatever it is, smells amazing.

“Those pancakes?” He asks, stepping over gingerly, usually anyone brave enough to cook in the communal kitchen would tell any company to get out, lest they be branded by a scorching hot spatula across the face. Not you though.

“Yeah! I'll make you a few. You been eating enough, all holed up in that workshop of yours?” The sweet smell is even stronger now as you flip the pancakes, your words just as sweet, with a simple, kind hesitance in the playful tease. He knows you wouldn't poke fun at his work.

“I think there's some honey or chocolate chips around here if you want some in ‘em, hon.” And with that small mission given, you're back to humming some classical piece he'd heard playing in Medic’s office once or twice, familiar.

There's a beat of silence as he just… watches you. Only for a moment, eyes lingering where they should, just curious. He wants to ask something, but the words don't exactly come easily. He turns, and begins to rummage through some of the slightly-too-high cabinets, finding the chocolate chips, which some dickhead has placed just out of reach. He reaches high, tip toed, fingers just barely tickling the bag before he manages to swipe it down off the shelf, and bring it over to you.

The bag hits the counter with a rattly thwump, and you lean over, looking inside. “These’ll do just fine…” The smile on your face is nearly eerily pleasant as you take the bag and dump a small handful into the poured batter. There's a smoky smell in the air, but the baked goods seem fine, and Pyro isn't hanging around yet.

There's been a few moments where he questions you, your motives, your actions, but… You hadn't done anything to seem like a bad person. If anything, you'd done nothing but prove the opposite! Hell, even the Doc's birds liked you, and that's a real feat! “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” He muttered, pondering you deeply, though trying not to, you'd done nothing to earn such scrutiny.

He's staring, he's sure, but he can't seem to pull his gaze away from you. “What made you erh…” Ordinary of him to start a sentence without being sure if where to take it. “Consider… this, as a mercenary, ain't the greatest work for kind folk like you.” He huffs, stepping over to your side, leaning against the flour smeared counter. “As kind as you want to be, at least.” He squints curiously, you're not quite looking at him, glancing to him out to corner of your eye once in a while.

“Am I being investigated, copper?” You coo, smiling coyly, and flip a pancake onto a plate to your left before turning right to face him, crossing your arms across your chest. “I know what you're thinking.”

The air around you is warm, and swirling with the delectable smells of baking and everything sweet. “It's different here, than out there.” You turn back to the pan, prepping another pancake.

A shrill squeak rings out from the hall, and you both snap your heads to the noise, before it squeals down the hall, away from the kitchen.

“What in tarnation— I don't think you're some… monster,” He chides, shaking his head and wringing his gloves hands.

“Not at all, but it's just… So fascinatin’. Watching you go about, tearin’ them to shreds like it's nothin’ to ya, don't even flinch when the enemy Sniper gets a pick on you!”

Even he was prone to a nervous moment or two in a fight, but you seemed to have some sort of miraculous handle on it all though.

“I know it's different.” He resigns, and you slide another pancake onto the plate, then towards him.

You shrug, and turn the stove off, placing a small cover over the larger plate of previously made pancakes.

“There’s no harm in going a little crazy out there, I might come back with a new scar if I'm unlucky, but, well…” Your lips are pursed tightly as you mull over your next words.

“Well, there's nothing to it, we can't die, Dell.” You murmur, he takes a pancake and gingerly bites into it.

“The real fight is only lost when one team gets bored and gives up, basically, so why not have a little fun with it?”

[mrfandomwars]

Random Lists of TTS headcanons (mostly about Quirin and the Dark Kingdom) that I have:

Quirin became a Brotherhood member when he had a 'Home Alone' moment with Edmund and his wife because he thought they thieves (they broke in because it was raining HORRIBLY)

Quirin was in charge of the Brotherhood, in the sense that although Edmund as the King was in charge, Quirin was the one dealing with the group as a whole

There were more Brotherhood members, but they either retired, died or are simply lost in the world after the fall of the Dark Kingdom

The Brotherhood members had noble titles and pieces of land, Quirin had a BIG farming land (as the head in charge) and he used to help around before the Kingdom Fell. He used a few techniques he learned later on when he became a full time farmer (not all because different crops and different types of land)

You can find small communities from the Dark Kingdom moving around still, looking for some place to settle (and they eagerly go back to the Kingdom when Edmund starts rebuilding it)

The DK and Corona used to have a little bit of Beef because sun vs moon, that's why Quirin settling (probably with other people, lbh) there with the piece of the scroll was a good move

Corona was funded or helped fund by Demanitus

Demanitus is originally from the Dark Kingdom

Quirin was in the process of retiring when the Dark Kingdom fell

The Brotherhood all have specific face tattoos, but by the time Eugene was born they were only mandatory to use during events and things like that, hence why Quirin didn't have one, though if you wanted a permanent tattoo you could have it (hence Adira and Hector)

OR all the tattoos are temporary, Adira and Hector just have been reapplying theirs

The Great Tree used to be the border for the Dark Kingdom, hence why Hector set up shop in it

the Queen Ghost we saw was the one who helped fight against Zhan Tiri the first time around

Edmund (or at least, the Monarch that came before him) was the one who gave the Mind Trap to the Keeper, since he didn't have Any itent to use it

The place where the Mind Trap was was very Hush Hush, Cassandra only found out thanks to Zhan Tiri finding it out herself, BUT the existence of the Mind Trap was at least well known in the DK and was one of the 'cons' to joining the Brotherhood

The Mind Trap was originally meant to make sure that the Brotherhood wouldn't turn against the crown, the moonstone And to make sure that if a fight every happened, they would act in harmony. It's a 'made with good itentions, Very Bad Execution type of thing'

Eugene didn't reject his royal title from the DK, but he won't be it's King Outside of possibly becoming a temporary one until one of his and Rapunzel's kids are old enough to take over

To try and fix the plothole in season 3: people Forgot that Quirin was a Brotherhood member AND they had contacted (or at least TRIED TO) Adira and Hector at some point and they thought they weren't under Cassandra's control

Eugene grew a couple of inches between the movie and the series and that was because the two times he was healed by Rapunzel, he was healed

People either think that Cassandra was dead OR Cassandra was actually banned from Corona (and the Dark Kingdom) - she isn't getting away without consequences people

Varian had a therapist while in prison that he was forced to see, wether or not they worked or if they were a Saporian spy I haven't decided yet

The ACTUAL reason why the resistence against the Saporian was so small wasn't because of 'loyalty to the crown', it was because they had tried and it Blew on their faces and thus King Frederik and Queen Arianna aren't the only victims of memory wipe. Rapunzel doesn't know this because, well, would you admit to the rebellion to the crown?

Eugene and Lance, later on, are volunteers on Orphanages in Corona and Eugene got a LOT of funds given to them and goes to personally check to see if they are being used properly and that the kids are being taken care of well

the DK fondly call Eugene the 'fail prince' not because of anything he did but because his fighting skills are far below what the royal standard was.

I said this before but: The Queen of the Dark Kingdom trid to destroy the Moonstone, possibly because she was plagued by nightmares of what would happen in the future/of the stone hurting the Kingdom and her family

[robininthelabyrinth]

Same universe as the one where LXC kills JGY on a boat to not-Japan. JRS-centric as he grows up in the Nie clan and deals with his reputation as an inbred son of a traitorous bastard.

so I don't think I've ever written a fic in which LXC kills JGY on a boat, and definitely not one where JRS is a character? I mean, I've written a lot of fics, so possibly I did and I forgot, but I'm pretty sure about this one.

That being said, I don't think I've gotten any Jin Rusong prompts before so I'm reinterpreting this to be a prompt for a fic about JRS growing up in the Nie clan. Fic below!

ao3

-

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang reminded himself. Risk is proportionate with reward. Your spine should be made of steel, just as your saber is.

He licked his lips, thought of his brother who had loved him, and threw himself forward with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, gongzi!” he blubbered. “Can you help me? I’ve gotten completelylost, I don’t even know where to begin –”

Xue Yang blinked at him, the lids of his eyes moving slowly like a reptile.

“Maybe you know where my san-ge is? Lianfeng-zun?”

The feeling of immediate threat lessened. It seemed he’d gambled right, and the rabid dog that was Xue Yang could still be controlled by reference to Jin Guangyao.

“I’d really appreciate it if you could just give me some guidance on where to find him,” Nie Huaisang said, lowering his voice confidentially. “I’d be sure to pay you back! If there’s anything you want –”

“Do you have any snacks?” Xue Yang asked.

Nie Huaisang, who had come prepared based on the rumors he’d painstakingly collected, produced some dragons’ beard candy.

“Not bad,” Xue Yang said. “Okay, sure.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, and even meant it.

-

“Hey, good-for-nothing,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang turned to look at his least favorite but nevertheless highly useful source of information in Lanling Jin. The fact that Xue Yang had no idea that he was functioning as such just made it more satisfactory. “You like kids, right?”

Nie Huaisang blinked. “Yes?” he hazarded, not so much because he actually did – he’d never had strong feelings about children one way or the other, though perhaps he was being presumptuous in thinking that the reference did not involve goats – but because that seemed to be the answer Xue Yang was looking for.

Xue Yang wrinkled his nose in distaste, though not, Nie Huaisang thought, at him.

“Theoretically,” he said, and he wouldn’t know ‘theoretical’ if it hit him in the face, “if there were, I don’t know, a whole bunch of them hanging around somewhere without parents, you’d be able to do something about that, right? Especially if they had a talent for cultivation?”

It took only a moment to piece together what must have happened to lead to such a question, given the ruthlessness of the cultivation world and of Jin Guangyao in particular, and Nie Huaisang marveled briefly at the idea that Xue Yang might draw a moral line in the sand over something. Presumably he felt some kinship to the children, being similarly utterly infantile, amoral, and fond of sweet things.

“Oh sure!” he said, playing up the brainless idiot who didn’t know to ask questions. “My sect is always recruiting, you know. We took some losses in the war and, well, I feel like adult cultivators aren’t really all that interestedin joining ever since I took over…”

“Because you’re a waste of space,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang pouted at him. “Whatever, the important thing is that you have space for kids. Orphans. Think, like, a whole orphanage getting shut down or whatever – anyway, not important. You’d take them back to Qinghe, right?”

“Oh, that would be so wonderful!” Nie Huaisang clapped. “That would suit everyone, wouldn’t it? They don’t have to worry about the children, and we get new disciples. I should tell san-ge – no, on second thought, he might be too busy –”

“Definitely too busy,” Xue Yang said quickly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to accomplish something yourself? You could casually show him that your numbers went up at the end of the month instead so he gives you the credit, without explaining that it’s kids making up the increase.”

“That’s a great idea! He’ll be much more impressed by that, I should definitely do that. Where is the orphanage?”

“…uh, in the forest. The back forest.”

You couldn’t come up with a better lie?

“You already brought them here?” Nie Huaisang asked, batting his eyelashes. “You’re so nice, Xue-xiong! I’ll go tell my second in command to go deal with it right away!”

-

It was in the fifth round of kids getting picked up – small cultivation clans being massacred and there was nothing Nie Huaisang could do about it, because there was either no evidence or else Jin Guangyao had come up with some motive to justify his actions and, inevitably, Lan Xichen would be there behind him, soothing over tempers and providing explanations because he believed him, every time – that something unusual happened.

“Sect Leader Nie,” one of his most trusted subordinates murmured into his ear. “There’s a problem.”

Nie Huaisang found a reason to leave the party early, a reason to go to the rendezvous point, and, once there, found the reason for the problem.

“Oh, hey there,” he said with a smile fixed onto his face by sheer force of willpower, crouching down to make himself seem less intimidating. Not that he was ever particularly intimidating, though given the rage coursing through his veins right now, he thought he might be able to pull it off if he tried. “What a lucky chance! It’s so funny, finding you here, Songsong. How are you?”

Jin Rusong wiped his eyes and looked tearily at him, recognized that the person asking was his Little Uncle Nie, and threw himself into Nie Huaisang’s arms with a howl.

This was pretty typical – Jin Rusong wasn’t much of a crier, but when he did he definitely took Nie Huaisang as his model, something all the other adults in the cultivation world had a tendency to give Nie Huaisang dirty looks over.

The only problem here, of course, was that Jin Rusong was dead.

Or, rather…he was supposed to be dead.

And if Jin Rusong was here – here, in the rendezvous point where Xue Yang put those of his prospective victims that happened to be a little too young for even him to stomach killing, at least without the personal grudge that had driven him to slaughter the Chang clan in its entirety – that meant only one thing.

Jin Guangyao had ordered his own son to be murdered.

Through demonic cultivation, no less, which was a pretty nasty way to go. There was a reason everyone implicitly countenanced Jiang Cheng’s vendetta against demonic cultivators no matter where they were, even when he ignored all territory lines and forgot to not ask for permission – the things a demonic cultivator gone bad could do were just so much worse than what anyone else could that they couldn’t risk any delay in dealing with the problem.

Well, shit, Nie Huaisang thought, even as he comforted Jin Rusong, petting the toddler’s back to try to get him to calm down. What do I do now?

-

“There has to be a reason,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “He’s not rabid. Songsong was his son!”

“Sect Leader Nie, we can’t find anything that might explain it.”

“Look harder. I don’t care how minor it is, I want to know everythingto do with Songsong. Every little detail – every person who saw him – every medical report, every compliment, every good grade –”

“He placed last in one of his classes,” one of his spies volunteered.

“What?”

“He placed last in one of his classes. About two months before his ‘assassination’, and shortly before his father started collecting evidence against the other sects that were in his way, which he later used to ‘prove’ that they had been involved in the alleged murder.”

“He wouldn’t kill his son for failing a class,” one of the others objected. “The kid’s barely more than a baby. What’s he expecting, genius from birth?”

“He’s a genius himself. Why not?”

“If everyone inherited everything directly from their parents, he’d be a whore.”

“He’d be a Jin. They’ve all got that nose, every one of them…”

“I heard he’s having the other Jin bastards killed. All of them, even the women…”

Something snapped in Nie Huaisang’s hands.

They all turned to look at him.

“Investigate Qin Su,” he said, looking down at the mess of wood and paper that had once been a fan. “Come to think of it, she has a Jin nose, too.”

-

“I don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want you to go, either,” Nie Huaisang said, feeling tired and also much more in sympathy with his poor older brother than he’d ever been while Nie Mingjue had been alive. “But you disobeyed me, and that means we don’t have a choice. You have to go.”

Nie Songsong looked down at the ground, his lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to…”

“You did,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to own your decisions, Songsong. You can’t take them back once they’re done, no matter what the consequences. Not even if you feel bad, but definitely not because you feel bad for having to pay for what you did.”

“But…”

“No, Songsong. You cannot be in the Unclean Realm when – when he’s here.”

Nie Songsong hung his head.

“He’s not your father anymore,” Nie Huaisang said. “You know that, right?”

Nie Songsong nodded.

Nie Huaisang sighed and held out his hands, and his arms were full of a teary-eyed child a moment later.

“He loved you once,” Nie Huaisang murmured into his child’s hair. “I love you now. I wish I could give you more than that – I wish I could give you an answer, tell you why he didn’t love you enough to keep from doing what he did. But I can’t. All I can do…”

Is what I’m already doing.

“You’re enough, er-ge,” Nie Songsong whispered back. “You’re enough. I promise.”

-

“When will I get to go night-hunting?”

“You go night-hunting all the time,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “You’re a fraction my age, and already my height, my weight, yet you wield a saber like my brother was around to raise you properly. You’re ruining my reputation, you know; now no one will believe that my incompetence comes from how short I am…”

“Not night-hunting with the rest of the sect, er-ge,” Nie Songsong said, rolling his eyes. “With other juniors!”

“Not long now,” Nie Huaisang said, looking down at the paper beneath his hands. It was all finally coming together. “Not long now. Just give er-ge a little more time to finish taking care of matters for da-ge, and you’ll be able to go night-hunting with anyone you like.”

-

“Er-ge! Are you all right? You look so pale…”

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “Songsong – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry –”

“What happened? Are you injured?” Nie Songsong demanded, already starting to pat him over, looking for wounds. “Er-ge, what’s wrong –”

“Your mother’s dead.”

Nie Songsong’s hands stilled.

“I told her about your heritage,” Nie Huaisang said, his lips numb. He’d never tried to hide it from Nie Songsong, although he’d introduced the subject very gradually and only once he thought that he’d be able to handle the revelation. “About your father – your grandfather. What they did. I wanted her to be angry at him, to turn against him, to distract him…instead, she killed herself.”

“Er-ge…”

“I shouldn’t have told her. If I knew –”

“Er-ge.”

“I should have brought her in earlier – told her about you surviving – I kept her from you for years –”

“Er-ge!”

Nie Huaisang looked at the child he had raised as a little brother the way his older brother had raised him, a father in everything but name, and who he had the constant feeling of having failed.

He wondered, as he always did, whether his brother had felt the same about him.

“Er-ge, it’s all right,” his little brother, his adopted son, said, and took his hands in his. “It’s all right. You tried, remember? Time after time, you tried to talk to her, but every single time you concluded that she would’ve told her husband instead of trusting you. She would’ve ruined everything. If she did that, I’d be dead all over again, and you with me.”

That had been what Nie Huaisang had concluded. That was why he’d never told her.

But…

“She’s your mother.”

“And you’re my er-ge. As long as you don’t die on me, too, it’ll be all right. Okay? It’ll be all right. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He’d already done so much, caused so much chaos and strife, and yet this moment – this was the step too far.

This was the first time he realized that he wasn’t sure he believed that it would be worth it anymore.

But by now…what else was left to do? There were no ways out of the plan he’d made himself; he’d designed it that way on purpose, because he’d known that if there was a way out, that snake would find a way to slither through it. He just hadn’t thought that he would be the one looking for it.

It didn’t matter.

He had to keep going.

His older brother deserved it, even if the younger one didn’t.

-

“I represent the Nie sect,” the young man – just about their age, though shorter than either of them – said with a smile. He seemed kind, gentle and polite, easy-going, but Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui looked at each other, and then at Jin Ling, who just scowled. “Can I come in?”

“Were you even invited?” Jin Ling asked in bitten off words. He was still bitter about some of the things that had happened in the Guayin Temple a month before, and of all them the one he was most bitter about was his second uncle’s retreat into seclusion – they were all upset about that.

“But it’s a discussion conference,” the young man said, blinking in confusion. “We’re a Great Sect. Why wouldn’t we be invited?”

In the face of such profound ignorance, there really wasn’t very much they could say, and eventually Lan Sizhui stepped forward with a smile, welcoming the young man – Nie Songsong, he introduced himself – into the Cloud Recesses.

Everything seemed fine for a little while. Lan Sizhui was able to talk to the people in charge of arranging juniors into finding another place for Nie Songsong to stay, although it would be a little delayed – Nie Songsong assured them that there was no issue – and as recompense they even showed him, at his request, a few of the main landmarks.

And then they turned around and their guest had disappeared.

“I knew he was up to no good!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Lan Sizhui told him.

“I’m with Jin Ling,” Lan Jingyi said. “He seemed so nice and understated – just like you know –”

“Don’t talk about my little uncle,” Jin Ling hissed at him. “I know it’s true, but just – don’t, okay?”

“We should find where he went,” Lan Sizhui decided.

It took them a while, but in the end they found him in the most unexpected place: in the rooms their sect leader had chosen for his seclusion, sitting on the bed with Lan Xichen’s head on his shoulder, sobbing as if his heart had been broken.

“What are you doing?” Lan Sizhui exclaimed, unnerved even out of his own habitual politeness.

“I came to greet my uncle,” Nie Songsong said, his manner just as gentle and polite as it had been from the beginning, although it was now evident that he was as stubborn as a rock and not easy-going at all.

“Your uncle?” Lan Jingyi gaped. “How can he be your uncle?”

“You’re Sect Leader Nie’s son!” Jin Ling accused.

“I’m Sect Leader Nie’s little brother by adoption,” Nie Songsong corrected. “It’s through my father that he’s my uncle – and you my cousin, I suppose.”

“Your – father?”

“Oh, yes. My birth name, you see,” Nie Songsong said, “was Jin Rusong.”

-

“Why did you choose to reveal yourself?” Lan Sizhui asked. “Given that everyone knows – well –”

Nie Songsong finished the character he was writing and put down his brush. “Wondering if you should let it be known that you were born with the surname Wen?”

Lan Sizhui jerked in surprise, then flushed. “How did you – that didn’t come out in Guanyin Temple.”

“No, I knew it before,” Nie Songsong said. “My er-ge is very clever, you know.”

“Yes, I suppose I do...why do you call him brother? Shouldn’t he be uncle, or – or –”

“Uncle is probably right,” Nie Songsong said. “But he raised me like a son, just as his brother did for him.”

Lan Sizhui looked down at his hands.

“Why did he publicly reveal your background, knowing that you were still around?” he asked again. “Everyone will know. Who your father was, all those terrible things he did, his relationship with your mother –”

“Why shouldn’t he? He did do all those things, and he did have that relationship with my mother.”

“But what about you? What about your reputation –”

“Are you planning on sweeping Wen Ruohan’s grave?”

Lan Sizhui stared at him.

“He’s your grandfather, isn’t he?” Nie Songsong looked calmly back at him. “Who he was, all those terrible things he did –”

“That’s nothing to do with me!”

“And the crimes of my father are nothing to do with me. My er-ge gave me his surname, just as Hanguang-jun gave you his, and for the same reason – to cut us off from the sins of our original family.”

“I suppose that’s true. But – no one knew about you, just as no one knew about me until I told them, and I only told them because they were my friends. Why’d you tell us? Aren’t you worried we’d tell more people?”

“Of course I am,” Nie Songsong said. “I hope you don’t, of course, but you would’ve found out regardless – second uncle wasn’t exactly subtle in his grief. And I had to tell him.”

“Why? To bring him out of seclusion?” Lan Sizhui hesitated. “Do you care so much for him?”

“Of course not. The last time I met him, I was a small child, and my father was just about to order me murdered; that’s not much of a basis to build a relationship. But having him lock himself away like that, as if he were in mourning…it hurt er-ge. And I won’t let anything hurt my er-ge. Anything, or anyone.”

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I understand,” Lan Sizhui said.

“I’m glad you do,” Nie Songsong said, and then smiled. “I would’ve had to escalate to threats next, and I’m given to understand that I’m too short to really pull them off properly.”

Lan Sizhui snorted. “I think we’ve all learned that that’snot true.”

-

“Should we talk about this?” Jin Ling asked, arms crossed over his chest and glaring.

“What do you want to talk about?” Nie Songsong replied.

“How about the fact that your father tried to kill me?”

“Sure. Can we talk about the fact that you got all of his affection for years and years after he tried to kill me?”

Jin Ling blanched.

“I wonder if he would’ve gotten me a dog, too,” Nie Songsong mused. “I was too young for that when he ordered his demonic cultivator to feed me to fierce corpses and have my body ravaged until it was barely recognizable…but sure, let’s talk about how he tried to kill you.”

“I was talking about Sect Leader Nie!”

“Well, then, you should have been more specific. Sect Leader Nie’s my brother, not my father.”

“He’s a whole generation older than you!”

“My little uncle, then.”

Jin Ling flinched. “That’s worse. Go back to calling him your brother.”

Nie Songsong shrugged. “Would it help if we fought?”

“…what?”

“It makes me feel better, sometimes. Besides, I may be short, but I’m pretty good with the saber. I bet I could match your sword…maybe not your arrows. But I’ve always wanted to try.”

Jin Ling looked at him suspiciously for a long moment.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Sure. Why not?”

-

“I really hate that you’re kind of cool,” Lan Jingyi told him.

“I am so cool,” Nie Songsong said, and passed him another jar of wine. “Want to see my spring book collection?”

“…yes please.”

-

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Lan Xichen said to Nie Huaisang, who shrugged. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me to help.”

“It’s only what I should have done,” Nie Huaisang said, not for the first time. He’d said it so often these past few days that it felt like a new refrain, an alternative to the old I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. He preferred the original. “I was his little uncle, remember? I held him on his first month party. How could I do any less?”

He did not say that Lan Xichen, who could be classified as Jin Rusong’s older uncle, had done much less, but from Lan Xichen’s expression, he’d taken it that way anyway.

“You never…” Lan Xichen hesitated. “Did you ever have any – concerns?”

“That he’d turn out an idiot? No. I figured he’d be in good company, with me.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, you meant whether I was worried that he’d grow up longing for his blood family over his adopted family and turn against me in favor of his real father?” Nie Huaisang asked mildly. “No, not really. The memory of your father ordering you to be mauled by fierce corpses and to make sure your face is destroyed so that there’s a reason to refuse to let your mother see the body, as it would only upset her, is a fairly effective panacea against things like that.”

“No,” Lan Xichen said, though he looked sick all over again at the reminder of how considerate Jin Guangyao could be when it came to those he thought of as people, and how monstrous he was towards those he didn’t. “No, just – your brother always took such a hard line against the Wen sect…”

“Because they were raised with the philosophy that they were superior to the rest of us and my brother purposefully made himself into the symbol of their fallibility, thereby making himself and all the rest of us the primary target for their traumatic realization that they’re just as weak and vulnerable as everyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Our Nie sect cultivators were always especially targeted whenever we were captured – our survival rate as prisoners of war was less than half all the other sects, and it wasn’t just because we were usually more injured when we got caught. Even the civilians surnamed Wen would pull out knives and try to stab us in the back if they had half a chance! We were in a blood feud with them, er-ge. You don’t put down blood feuds just like that, not even if you want to. That’s not how it works.”

Lan Xichen nodded slowly, thoughtful.

“Anyway, Songsong is mine now,” Nie Huaisang said. “Just as Lan Sizhui is your brother’s, and Jin Ling Jiang Cheng’s. Can’t we all just agree to not care about the rest?”

“I suppose we have to,” Lan Xichen said, bowing his head. “Huaisang…did you ever think about what happens now? I mean – what should we do next?”

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled humorlessly when Lan Xichen looked at him. “I’m not joking. I didn’t know what to do when I got Songsong for the first time, er-ge, and I don’t know what to do now, either. I just wanted to see justice done for my da-ge, and I did, and for the rest – I don’t know.”

“That’s fine,” Lan Xichen said. “I don’t know, either.”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang thought. Spine as steel as your saber.

“Would you like to come visit the Unclean Realm sometime?” he asked, pretending to be casual. “Perhaps we can figure out what we don’t know together. If you like.”

“…perhaps I will,” Lan Xichen said.

[bumblerhizal-art]

First draft designs for my Orlesian Wardens + Mahariel

Caron is a battlemage who was born the child of two Circle mages. He was raised in a Chantry orphanage until his own magical talents developed at a late age. He was then taken to the Montsimmard Circle where he studied until Grey Wardens arrived looking for a recruit. Several mages volunteered to prove themselves to the visiting Wardens, but Caron was found most worthy of the mantle

Kader is an assassin and extremely prone to sunburn. She's supersitious and wears a painted nazar on each of her pauldrons and several talismans that i will find better rune designs for than just random squiggles. She was traveling as part of a surfacer merchant caravan for most of her life until darkspawn attacked their family wagons. During the scuffle, she and another dwarf were infected with the Taint. A traveling Senior Warden who joined the battle offered to them the Joining ritual, but only Kader survived

Andras is a duelist from Halamshiral and the fifth of six children. His prospects weren’t great, so at age 19, when the Warden-Commander came through Halamshiral, he devised a plot to steal WC’s sword to grab their interest. Miraculously, it worked without a negative consequence. WC took the prank in stride and extended an invitation to join the Grey Wardens which, obviously, was accepted

Mahariel is the only of the Companion-ified Origins to become a Warden outside the HoF Tabris. Their Origin takes place shortly after the conclusion of Nature of the Beast, but they are not Joined until the time of the Landsmeet. The Taint had already coursed through their body for several months at that point, but with the Creators' favor and lots of medicinal tea, they somehow made it long enough to be rewarded with a place in the Order

[silkybullets]

“Death Call”

Midland Hotel, 1925, sitting alone at a table the evening before Christmas, Tommy's icy eyes met with a face he never had ever thought of seeing again, not whilst being alive at least. Which lead us back to Birmingham, 1914, after he volunteered in Small Heath rifles, he spent his last couple of months home holding your hand in the hospital, watching your colours fade as dying of an unknown disease.

Warnings: English is my second language.

Words: around 2k

Tommy just ordered a drink, adding to that a whore, a brand new one in honor of Christmas when he initially went to light his cigarette. His eyes drifted to a table further away where a woman was already sitting down. He did recognize her, remembering the sweet touch of an old lover. His stiffened body didn’t receive the orders to continue moving sent by his brain, his mind too occupied playing memories of before the war. Before it all begins, or all ends, depending which side you’re looking.

One the other side of the room, you were searching the pockets of your woolen coat. When you finally found your cigarette case, you got one out, sliding it in between your soft lips. After pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you hassled lightening up your cig and welcomed the poison in your lungs as if it was the purest thing. 

The waiter came closer to you, putting down your rhum, which you drank in one go and ordered another one. It’s been a couple months you didn’t drink and, after this first shot you don’t remember why. When doctors failed to diagnose you and closed your file with a lung disease you were young and never tasted the flavor of the liquid poison. But at the cliff of death, God granted you the wish to live.

Too bad that’s when your memories of endless & lonely drinking nights happened. 

Coming from a christian family, it was no question for them you had been chosen by God to do something great in this world. Pushing their luck they sent you to an orphanage run by nuns to pay your debts to God. When their initial idea was to keep you pure for as long as you were to be alive, you chose a different path for yourself, bounged down into alcohol, drugs and whatever came with it.

Saying you were a non-believer would be too much, but the idea of being some kind of “chosen one” was nonsense to you, that just meant death was right under your nose or waiting for you at the corner of the street. What happened next was logical consequence, your depraved self was sent back home after the nuns numerous warnings were ignored. You did not change, and decided not to. 

When being saved or witnessing a miracle helps people get their life in order, it had the reverse effect on you and you had yet to get your shit together.

When they recommended you to drastically change your ways for the sake of your family if not for you, you gave in. You had siblings, and knowing how hard your family could be on them at times, you didn’t want to leave them alone. But your good will ended tonight.

You looked at the filled glass in front of you for what seemed like an eternity,  weighting the pros and cons of getting drunk tonight and all the other after that one. You being dead or alive it’ll be okay for your family, you assured yourself to avoid feeling guilty for choosing not to fight. 

Ten minutes and three empty cups later, you were ordering another one. The waiter was intently looking at you, concerned, while you were ignoring his pout.

“You sure you want rhum, ma’m, Can I bring you something else, gin perhaps?” He was as smooth as one could, but the implicit meaning behind his words irritated you the most.

“Do I look like I’m sad, eh? Tell me ‘cause I don’t look at meself in mirrors these days.” You begin, agitating your fingers that were holding another cigarette. 

“Gin’s for sad women, whiskey for big boys crying, rhum for people like me: We are not sad enough for trying to drown our pain in gin, not hopeless alcoholics enough to to get drunk with something as tasteless as whisky. We simply enjoy a slow death with a sweet and spicy flavor. Please bring me the whole bottle this time.”

Without realizing it, you offered the man the warmest smile he had seen tonight and he gave one back even if still quite taken aback by your confusing revelation.

Tommy had seen enough, he got up throwing a bill near his drink and cleared his throat for lack of clearing his head. He walked to the table, the woman he once knew was seated, his voice already reaching her ears before their eyes would meet.

“Is this seat taken?” He motioned to the second chair around the table. Finishing another glass she invited him to sit down with a move of hand. Her cigarette in between her lips, she poured some rhum into her glass and ultimately lifted her eyes to his face.

“Are you sick of the hotel whore, Thomas? Am not one if this is your question.” She blinked as puffing on her cig. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Y/N” He coughed. “See you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Nor did you.”

Lies, it was all lies, if it wasn’t her eyes he hadn’t recognized her. The woman he was in love with was long gone and so was the boy who loved her.

“So OBE it is, now?” She looked up to him.

He stayed in her eyes before daring to speak, and break the eye contact.

“You were always used to call me Tommy, we can stick to that.”

She didn’t respond nor look at him, keeping for herself any emotions his words had unleashed into her, if they did.

“What happened to you?” He spoke in a more vibrant ton. An attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere.

“War happened to us, Tom.” 

His eyes snapped open on her.

“What France did to you, remaining alive did to me.” She offered him a fair smile, looking straight at him with the same piercing gleam hiding behind her iris than when they were younger. 

“We all came back alive. John, Arthur, Freddie... Although they are now some missing pieces.”

“Yeah, fucking pieces spilled everywhere. It’s looking like the puzzles we used to play when we were younger, huh? Does that ring any bell?” She giggles.

It was hard for him to read her, he didn’t know what he felt either. 

He stayed at the hospital three months straight holding her hand as her colors were fading. He remembers vividly how difficult it was for her to breath, speak, even keeping her eyes open was a huge sacrifice. But she’d never compromised to keep them shut as he told her to, his face gave him the strength of an army, as she used to say. And that had him laugh, even though now he doesn’t remember the last time something as close as a laugh came out his throat.

“Don’t get fucking lost in memories, Thomas. Just ask for it.” 

She poured some liquor into her glass and slowly slid it to Tommy as if anticipating him telling her he didn’t want it.

He watched her moves with amusement, it was odd to him to find her here, but even more peculiar was the fact it seems like she knew him still. Like those ten years that separated them weren’t there, like there wasn’t a day they didn’t think about the other fondly. Her gaze didn’t leave his, and he knew exactly where her mind was because his own was at the same place. She was getting all the information she could to try to match his now tired face with the one she had been picturing in her head all those years.

“Okay then.” he nodded. “ Where have you been?” 

A smile appeared at the corner of his lips, they were playing a game he couldn’t only play with her, she was the one girl before France, everyone got their advantages.

“Fucking dying of being alive after I got strunk by some miracle.” She raised a brow as if to voice the displeasure of missing the boat.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I wish I was, Tommy.”

He let out a long sigh. Once again he failed at keeping a light atmosphere. It was to be said she wasn’t any help.

That’s when he realized no matter how it felt like they were still the same teenagers, back in 1914 before everybody got fucked up, no matter how hard the memories were hitting him this exact same instant with their first kiss, their first touch and the first time they exchanged their desire to live a life together, they were not the same. Nothing was.

She was only a mere shadow of herself, and he? He couldn’t even look at her in the eyes for more than five minutes, too afraid it would dig out things that must be kept where they were nowhere to be found for his own sake.

Every little thing about before France hurt him. Even the happy throwbacks, especially the happy throwbacks. Knowing he would never feel those feelings again, never get silly about the breeze meeting with his skin or the rising of the sun at the top of a hill killed him most. That’s why he didn’t want to ask more about what happened to her. But at the same time, the questions came naturally to him, as if he waited all along to throw them out, taking off his chest a weight he never realized to initially be there.

“Have you done better after I left?”

“I did. For a time. Some years, in fact, even though my parents sent me to a nunnery to thank God for his mercy.”

He snorted at her words.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me? They were always about keeping you saint, even asked me to fucking give up on taking you running in the fields to watch the night sky until sun rised, they never thought it could be the other way around, you leading me.”

She laughed at this thought.

“Don’t you dare say this as if you disliked me being the lead, Tommy Shelby.” She sneered.

“No, I indeed liked it.” He shook his head without hesitation.

“If only they knew what we did, in those nights.” They both spoke, their voice overlapping along with their minds.

“Tommy you got to follow me, or else we’ll be too late.”

“Let me catch a breath, we got all the time to come up the hill some other nights.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s tonight the fireballs are going to be running in the sky!”

“You aware it’s not called “fireball” and that they are not ‘running’ in the sky?”

The girl stuck her tongue out, turning to him, her eyes mechanically squinted at the move. She did not realize he was right behind her and faked all along still behind at the feet of the hill to annoy her. His body strongly collided with her, making her stagger but Tommy’s arms locked her waist firmly, avoiding her body from meeting the ground, and his lips dropped on her mouth in a second, she couldn’t even close her eyes during the kiss.

“Stop it!” Her suave voice worded as one of her hands went hitting his chest, even if her deepest desire was for him not to let go of her lips.

“I’m thinking about that one night we first fucked. Bodies wet both by sweat and dew“ She muttered.

He was sitting but naked on the grass, his fingers intertwined in her hair that was falling at her back as holding her tightly. She was the type of flowers you thought were beautiful but couldn’t help but rip off the ground, dooming them to die in your hands. 

Her legs were strongly wrapped around his hips, she was carefully grounding down on him, making sure every of her moves were slow to make the pleasure last. She turned loose the grip of her arms around his neck and leaned backward so he’d hit her from another angle, this one allowing him to reach the bottom.

Her screams filled his ears and soon enough his mouth as she straightened back up, seeking his eyes, wanting to connect even more. The darkness he ignited in her eyes that night never left, always leading him to always want her, even in the most inappropriate places.

“I was thinking about that time at the local church.” He admitted.

“Every-fucking-body heard the screams--” She proudly stated.

“The priest was more than disturb” He added. “But they never found out who that was.” 

“Well, we know.” She handed him her cigarette. He gladly took it and smoked as much as he could, clouding his lungs as well as his mind.

She giggled some more, shaking her head both sides, she couldn’t believe they did such a thing, but knowing as mad they were when together, it was all figured out.

“It came back, Tommy.”

“What did?” He gained his serious tone back, eyes locking with hers.

“The disease, they say it’s even more violent this time, but I know it just never left. It has been lurking in the dark to come back when I’ll be happy again. But seeing I figured out its plan, it decided it was time to finish me off.” She sang. Her voice was devoid of any sadness, and he noticed it. “I think it’s a curse, Tommy. Run in our blood. Me grandma’ had that too, it passed a generation, leaving my mother and little sister alone. But I fear for the others.”

Old reflexes leading the way, Tommy’s hand fondled hers in the most natural way. He leaned forward to her as she took off his lips her cigarette, filling her lungs with that poison in hope it would kill the one that resided in her since way too long.

[cinnella]

Name: Syro Beeks (chosen name); Nehal Desai (birth name)

Age: 24 years old

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Zodiac sign: Leo

Birthday: August 4th

Patron Arcana: Strength (Major); King of Wands (Minor)

Occupation: Combat specialist/magician

Height: 6'5" (1.95 m)

Weight: 227 lbs (102 kg)

Relatives:

Neith Desai - older sister

Aditi Desai - mother (deceased)

Dipankar Desai - father (deceased)

Banhi Desai - grandma (deceased)

Origin: Born on the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, grew up in Vesuvia

Race: Indian

Powers: Red (combat) magic and pyrokinesis

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, he's a solid 6.7

Backstory:

He'd been born on a very rainy day, his mother unexpectedly delivering him 1 month prematurely. His parents hadn't decided a name for him yet, so they let Neith do that instead. And looking outside the window at the pouring rain, she named him Nehal, which means exactly that.

About a year later, his parents who were mountain climbers, decided to go on a trip to the Clouded Mountains. They left their kids with their grandma, Banhi, as she wished them good luck in the mountains.

A week had passed when Banhi received news from someone who'd been on the ship with their parents. Unfortunately, while they were climbing the mountains, a storm came and threw them off balance together with a multitude of other people. Only a few of them survived.

With no one else to take care of them, Banhi made it her goal to raise her grandchildren as her own.

One day, while she went out to the market with them, to buy groceries, little Nehal was sleeping soundly in a basket, until Banhi put it down and woke him up. Both her and Neith had their attention on the vendor, so he crawled out of it and away. By the time they noticed, he was out of sight.

They searched and searched and called out to him, but to no avail. He was in someone else's arms, heading towards a new home.

Not much later, he was brought to an orphanage far away from home, in Vesuvia. There, he grew up alongside many other children and the caretakers, though he didn't really have friends. Most of the kids were mean and oftentimes bullied him for his shortness. But then a new kid came in, and stepped up to defend him from them. At first, he thought of it to be foolish.

She was even shorter than him. Small frail body, porcelain skin and black hair, and what stood out the most was her differently colored eyes. There must've been something scary about her, because the kids stopped their bullying.

That day, they became each other's first friend, and he learned that her name was Saiya, but warned him not to call her that. She hated her name. Soon, they advanced to best friends. Everything they did, they did together. Mostly mischief.

The caretakers soon realized that most of the kids had no names, and even when they named them, there was a lot of confusion and many unhappy children. So they decided to teach them to read and write when they were old enough, and on their 7th birthday, they'd let them choose a name themselves.

When he was only 5, a third kid entered their little circle. She'd declared that her name was Eris. She had sun-kissed skin, silver white hair and ice blue eyes, and as young as Nehal was, he couldn't help but get a little crush on her. The three of them became very close, almost inseparable.

Once Saiya's birthday rolled around, she changed her name to Morana, and soon enough, his own birthday came too.

And so, Nehal Desai became Syro Beeks.

Around that week, two new kids joined their troublemaking group. Both were a little under two years younger than him, one with ash blond hair and silver eyes, the other with dark skin and jade green eyes.

Syro couldn't have asked for a better family. Years and years passed by in a blur, every day a new day to do more mischief. And as he approached his teen years and 6'3 in height, heartbreaking news came with them.

The adults made it clear that when they'd turn 17, they'd need to search for a home of their own. Him and the others talked about it, each of them wanted to try and find their homeland, their relatives.

And Eris was the first to leave. They were all saddened to see her go, but they knew she had to find her family.

A year later, Morana was next, but he was not about to let her go on her own. They always did everything together, after all. As heartbreaking as it was to leave the other two, Calyx and Libelle, they had to leave.

Their first stop was the Southern Spines, but much to their disappointment, they discovered nothing of her family. Then, they traveled across the land once more and took a ship towards the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, where one of the adults had found him.

Although he didn't know the place in the slightest, it was like his heart was calling to him, leading him. A couple of hours later, Syro came face to face with a woman.

Pink hair, indigo eyes and the same skin complexion he had. The same strong nose, plump lips and powerful jaw. Undeniably, they must have been related. But what clicked to him was her height. It's not everyday you meet someone who is almost as tall as you are.

She burst into tears and whispered his name... Probably his birth name, as she hugged him. As awkward as it was for him, the hug felt right.

The woman asked for them to follow her to her home and explain everything. There, Syro found out her name was Neith and that she was his older sister. He didn't quite believe it, until she pulled out a painted picture Banhi had done of them so many years ago, a 9 years old Neith holding her baby brother, who had jet black hair and magenta eyes just like him.

Many more hours passed, and both Morana and Syro decided to spend a few days with Neith. When they left, he promised to visit her when he had the time.

Once again in Vesuvia, he focused on learning to fight. It was something he'd wanted to do ever since he was little, but never found the time for that. Later on, he learnt to incorporate magic into it, becoming a skilled fighter and magician all the same.

When the Red Plague washed over them, he fleed together with Morana, Calyx and Libelle, but the latter two took to their own path, splitting in pairs. Eris refused to leave, for whatever reason.

They were heartbroken to learn that she'd died, and until then, they hadn't realized she was their anchor, their bridge. He remained with Morana, and the other two stayed with each other.

3 years later, he came back to Vesuvia after Libelle contacted him about Eris possibly living. He of course, didn't believe it in the slightest until he saw her alive and well, walking the streets of Vesuvia. But she didn't recognize him.

He met Asra that day too, who explained to him what happened and warned him about the consequences of trying to bring back her memories.

When she was assigned on late Count Lucio's case to catch his murderer, he volunteered to help her with the on-ground investigation, as it could be very dangerous.

That's how he met Julian.

And soon fell in love with him.

Personality: stubborn, flirty, adventurous, reckless, respectful, polite, self-less, aggressive, competitive, destructive, playful, sarcastic, loyal, sincere, open-minded, pessimistic, a little childish and a tease

Interesting facts:

Although he's very fond of any sun-themed objects, he hates heat. He prefers cold weather.

The scars on his arm are from a bear attack that happened while in the Southern Spines, and he also has one in his left palm.

Unlike the others who are mainly right-handed, he's left-handed. It's why he crosses his arms that way.

Never flinches at bitter or sour tastes, nor at strong alcoholic beverages, he actually likes them.

In total, he has 15 piercings. 5 in each ear, 1 on the right side of his nose, 1 in his right eyebrow, 2 in his lower lip and one in his tongue.

His first kiss was Eris. (And vice versa)

He got the sun-moon tattoo on his cheekbone when he was 15.

He has a second tattoo on his chest, of two entwined snakes.

Loves jewelry with a passion, he cannot go a day without at least wearing a ring.

Appearance: Umber skin tone, shoulder-length wavy jet black-blue hair, magenta eyes, inverted triangle body shape with a strong build

Familiar: Cynthia, a kind and sweet rainbow boa

Voice claim: Chace Crawford

Full sprite:

HERE HE IS, EVERYONE'S FAVORITE BUFFY SWEETHEART!!!

I didn't realize just how much more complicated his design would be compared to Eris' until I got down to actually design it.

But boy am I proud!! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

SHOW MY BOY SOME LOVE, PLEASE!!

Edit: I forgot to add his scars.. T-T

[urlocalnctstan]

NCT 127 Disney!AU

The Beauty And The Beast

Caged in his own home, Jaehyun ponders if there was anything in his powers that he could do to re-write his fate, to prevent the consequences his only family, his brothers had to face all of his despicable egoistic nature. The house that was once so lively and filled with only happiness and laughter was now nothing but filled lifeless statues and serene silence. Darkness was his only company, and slowly but painfully he was starting to accept his wretched fate. Blood thirst, Hunger can eventually be satiated, but not loneliness. And he realized it too late. To save his brothers, he must find the one who’ll break the spell, for which he must finally learn to love.

Pairing : Vampire!Jaehyun X Reader

genre : supernatural au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Epoch 1| Epoch 2| Epoch 3| Epoch 4| Epoch 5 (final)

FROZEN

How did it feel when your heart would do flips as you watch your crush pass by? Or when it would just fill you excitement because of the upcoming carnival? When your heart would be just about to leap out of your chest as your sibling scares you from behind? However, Taeyong did not have the privilege to feel any of these. Born with a frozen, he is immune to feel any kind of emotions, a gift that is to protect him from the cruel world as his mother said to him. Despite being a young king who’s loved by all, he craves to feel his heart, feel all the emotions even if it is for just a day, can the act of true thaw his frozen heart?

Pairing : King!Taeyong X Commoner!Reader

genre : fantasy au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Part 1

Peter Pan

One running from her life, another running from his crimes. You may heard of ‘the boy who never grows up’, but not ‘the boy who never regrets’. In the middle of night on the busy streets of Seoul, your paths happened to cross each other, much to your oblivion as you become Jungwoo's next most desiring and cherished prey. Like a wolf in a sheep’s clothing, his exterior innocence was just a façade staged for deception, concealing the monster inside of him. But if you happen to fall for a crooked mind, will you go with him where dreams are born and time is never planned, his own Neverland?

Pairing : Psychopath!Jungwoo X Reader

genre : criminal au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, (warnings : mentions of minor character death, killing/murdering, stalking, mental illness, toxic behavior, crimes)

Part 1

The Lion King

With the sudden demise of his father, Moon Taeil was forced to ascend the throne, to become the youngest chairman of Korea’s most influential conglomerate company. While others were not that contented with the outcome, he failed to notice his uncle’s jealousy, who had had set his eyes on this company for a long time. As the board members demand for the next chairman to be someone wedded, things take a huge turn for you as you both meet at the orphanage where you volunteered weekly, which actually ran on the company’s charity. As life gives you both a chance to overcome each other’s obstacles, will you try to look beyond what you see? 

Pairing : Chairman!Taeil X Reader

genre : arranged marriage au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, domestic au

Part 1

Cinderella

As the clock struck 3 in the morning, you crept out of house, its toxicity suffocating you. You were wandering around the streets looking for an escape, but so was Yuta, the sudden news of him ascending the title of CEO had taken a huge toll on him. And that one night, you both became each other’s elude. Finding love was never on neither of your minds as you were busy chasing your dreams, and he was too busy proving himself. Unbeknownst to you about what destiny was scheming, you both become messily entangled with each other, you only wish that it was a nightmare and you wake up a soon as possible, because, even miracles take a little time right?

Pairing : CEO!Yuta X Reader 

genre : fluff, fwb to lovers, angst, eventual smut, (warnings : toxic behavior, mentions of fighting, depression, self harm, physical and mental abuse)

Part 1

[morbidcorvids]

Eri going out for trick or treating with Hizashi and then a villain attack happens. Hizashi could only do was keep Eri safe since he didn't have his speaker. Then gets nabbed by the villain who has a spider quirk and tangles him up in his web while Eri is safe somewhere.

Prompt #1! I had so much fun writing this! Hope you liked it! This would also be publised on AO3.

Quick note: I am still taking prompts!

Title: Halloween Fright

It was probably the 20th picture he had taken that night, but he couldn’t help it - Eri just looked so darn cute in that cat costume. It was mostly a black onesie with paws, and of course the headband with cat ears, but Eri loved it the minute she wore it. Of course, Shouta was the one to suggest the costume when they went out looking for costumes a week ago. 

Even when he tried to hide it, Hizashi noticed how downhearted Shouta was when he learned he had to patrol during Halloween night. 

Shouta promised he would join them later in the evening, but Hizashi knew how unpredictable the night could be, especially on a night like this. 

For now it was only Hizashi in his custom made pirate costume and Eri as a black cat. They calmly passed by a busy street filled with an array of stores, where candy was being given. It was the first time Eri was officially celebrating Halloween, and learning that you could get candy for free opened a new dimension for her.  

As they kept walking, Hizashi didn’t expect to find Shouta’s mentee, Shinsou, among the crowd. Hizashi approached him, greeting him in his usual Present Mic style, and Shinsou explained to him how he usually volunteered in the near orphanage during Halloween. Given how late it was, Hizashi suggested he joined them, since being alone at night can be dangerous. He knew the boy was more than capable of taking care of himself, but he couldn’t help his hero heart to keep him close. 

Everything was peaceful and calm, and that in itself should have been the first sign that something was bound to happen. 

The trio stopped by Shouta’s favorite cat café,  where they were given out free candies and showing the cats in adorable outfits. Hizashi hadn't even stepped foot inside the café, when suddenly one of the parked cars flipped over and crashed into another car. 

Hizashi immediately covered Eri, making sure the little girl was protected not only from the crash, but also the chaos of people running and screaming that surrounded them. Hizashi hated the scene - parents running and carrying their kids to safety. Who could be so heartless to attack in a place filled with families? 

A dark figure loomed around the street - almost as if it was searching for prey. Hizashi couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like the person in question could change his arms and legs into long stick ones. They were a total of eight of them, and while they looked thin, its sharp blades at the end crushed the concrete as it walked. Hizashi’s head was spiraling as he thought of what the criminal might be resembling, but he knew it was mostly denial that he couldn’t outright say it.

They were like daddy long legs. They were like spiders. 

Hizashi gulped. This was not the right time to be an arachnophobe. 

He cursed himself for leaving his headphones and directional speakers, questioning what kind of hero would leave so unprepared like him. There was no time for these thoughts, though, because his number one priority was keeping Eri safe. 

He noticed through his peripheral vision Shinsou wrapping his binding cloth, and his heart instinctively sank. He knew how capable Shinsou was as a future hero, but being the only pro-hero in the place, he felt the need to protect him as well. 

“Shinsou!” Hizashi yelled, startling the purple-haired boy. Shinsou looked back at him, clutching his binding scarf tightly. 

“I need you to take Eri somewhere safe, and when you can, call for help!” 

Hizashi gently pushed Eri towards Shinsou, with the teen opening his arms to embrace her. Her eyes were wide in fear, but after living with her dad Aizawa for so long, she’s learned to calm down and think of her safety first. She just wished Aizawa was here with her at the moment. She grasped onto Shinsou’s shirt, hiding her face. If Present Mic trusted the boy, then she would also trust him. 

“But teacher, you don’t have your hero gear!” Shinsou shouted as Hizashi ran away from them. Hizashi turned around to look back at Shinsou, keeping a wide smile. Don’t scare them any further with your own pathetic fears, Hizashi. 

“I’ll be okay, little listener. Just go get help, okay?” Hizashi stated, placing a thumbs up. He wanted to assure the teen that everything was under control.

The only problem was that it wasn’t. 

As soon as he finished his uttering his sentence, he felt something grabbing his ankles and yanking him away from the kids. He heard Shinsou yell his name, but he was soon covered in sticky silk that left no part of his body uncovered except for his nose. He tried to free himself from the webbing, but it felt like the more he resisted the stronger it got. His fingers were probably bruised over the pressure of the silk, but that didn’t stop him from stretching them as much as he could. He figured that freedom was hopeless, and just hoped Shinsou and Eri got away, but those fears were soon overshadowed by new ones. 

The fear for his life. 

And the terrible, irrational fear he has for spiders. 

He heard the muffle crawling of the criminal approaching him, and he began frantically moving around - trying anything to set himself free. He didn’t know the villain’s intentions, but capturing Hizashi like if he was prey could only mean bad news. He was the desperate insect that knew his inevitable fate was coming. 

He could use his voice, but that might bring the consequence of destroying everything around him, and he didn’t know how many people were still inside buildings or in close proximity. He also wasn’t sure if Shinsou and Eri were nearby, and hurting them was the least thing he wanted to do. The blood-curdling sound of those spider legs grew closer, Hizashi’s breathing became erratic and all he could was gasp for air. 

The crawling suddenly stopped, instead filled by a screeching scraping sound that made Hizashi’s body shudder. He heard something being thrown into nearby cars, sizzling sounds, and shouts all blended into a terrifying mix. He felt someone above him maneuvering over the sticky webs, and then heard something faint that sounded like-

Cutting! Someone was cutting the web! Hizashi has never felt more relieved over a sound than now.  

“Stay calm and still!” Hizashi heard a muffled voice order - and for someone as restless as he was, Hizashi stayed perfectly still. He had no idea who talked to him, only that voice sounded like a female. 

“Are you ready, Eraser?” The voice asked, sounding clearer than last time. Wait, Eraserhead was here-

Hizashi couldn’t even process his thoughts before a final snap released him from his binds. He freaked out when he didn’t feel the ground, and before he could grab onto the spider’s silk - gravity pulled down his body. . 

Instead of meeting the concrete floor, he felt the force of arms sustaining him. He opened his eyes carefully, meeting a pair of familiar ones. He gaped at Shouta for who knows how long, but that didn’t matter to him. 

Shouta was carrying him - bridal style. 

If he wasn’t frightened to death, he probably would have blushed...to death. 

“That was an ugly quirk,” Shouta commented, with his usual deadpanned tone. Though, for someone who’s known him for many years as Hizashi, he knew Shouta was joking to comfort him. Shouta was probably one of the few people that knew of his phobia for spiders.  

Hizashi smiled softly, punching Shouta lightly on his shoulders. 

“I’m glad my favorite hero got to save me,” Hizashi responded, “and on Halloween night!” 

Shouta rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, Eri needs to finish trick-or-treating.” 

Shouta helped Hizashi back on the ground, and went to pick up the pirate hat that Hizashi dropped when he was grabbed by the villain. He placed it on his head, and glanced back at Hizashi, with the hint of a smile on his face. 

“Follow me.”

Hizashi chuckled, and performed a dramatic salute. 

“Ay, ay, Captain!”

Fin.

[lazylazyhowl]

A work in progress— (sasusaku oneshot)

—because the Sharingan may let him copy a lot of things, but skills of the heart are not amongst them.  [Sasuke. On, accepting himself. And her.]

AO3 Link

—

"Maybe next time."

His words are calculated.

Maybe, he's said, and given himself a way out. Given her a probability that, should the odds fall through later on, he can point at and absolve himself of responsibility. The same shit Itachi pulled when they were younger, really, except he won't apologize for it.

He sees the way her face lights up with hope and feels a mirroring force of optimism inside him that he has to clamp down to keep from bursting through the surface and muddying the reality of what he's doing.

His journey cannot involve her no matter what. He's not ready to be with her in any capacity of the words. Perhaps never. But he also doesn't want his last—but only for a while, he adamantly tells himself—memory of her to be a frown.

She's been burdened enough where he's involved. So he'll let her see him off with a smile, even if it's only self-gratification.

There is no guilt when he leaves her with his own smile and gratitude and goes on his way.

.

.

The day before his departure, she demanded a spar. He was bleary-eyed squinting at her, in her ninja gears, standing in the damp cold of early morning in front of his door, the flush of her cheeks of strange particular interest to him for a moment before he simply nodded.

She cited professional purposes ("I want to make sure you're in proper conditions for travel, Sasuke-kun.") even though he had already agreed. Even though her reason was crap and made no sense whatsoever.

He wondered if that was the only reason she thought he would accept, even if not believe; and if her request the only one she thought he was least likely to turn down.

He wondered if she was right.

Thanks to her he never had to find out. He only had to hurry and leave for the training ground with her, knowing Naruto would appear soon after, demanding the same of him. But not for the same reason. (Whatever that might have been.)

.

.

He helps people during his travel, but otherwise generally stays away from them. It's for both his and their good.

More for his.

People ask too many questions, and even the simplest ones dredge up far more than he's willing to deal with.

"Who are you?" they'd ask. "Just a shinobi," he'd answer.

But he's not just a shinobi. Avenger. Missing nin. Akatsuki. Terrorist. War criminal. The list goes on and he cannot in good conscience cross off any one of the items. Those personas, damned as they are, are still a part of him, and if he closes his eyes, he can recall them all in sickeningly vivid details.

"What's your name?" they'd ask. "Uchiha Sasuke," he'd tell them.

And then it's a coin toss on whether recognition and fear flit past their expressions. For the first few times, he's even considered using an alias, but that would have been such a meaningless thing to do in a journey of redemption.

And cowardly.

He's done with running away.

Or so he tells himself.

.

.

It's a calm, sunny day when he stops at a dango stand in a village near the border between Fire and Rain. The decorative flags caught his eyes, he supposes, but he still can't quite pinpoint what has possessed him to purchase a stick of dango for himself.

Itachi loved these (his chest tightens the way it does whenever he's reminded that he can only refer to his brother in past tense), and maybe that's it. But then what?

He isn't one to waste food (though it's debatable whether this is 'food') so he brings it to his mouth and slides the first ball of dango from the skewer.

And he flinches, not from the taste but from the smile that flashes through the front of his mind, innocent and genuine.

His throat runs dry. Too sweet. He makes it through the second ball of dango before leaving the rest behind on the table.

.

.

The night before his departure, Naruto finagled him into joining the rest of team 7 for ramen as his farewell party. There wasn't just team 7 at the party.

She was there, of course, with same the dark rings beneath her eyes that he'd noticed rather belatedly during their spar in the morning. Those hadn't kept her from giving him a few bruises and grazes, but he'd be a little less bothered by them if she hadn't also healed him up afterwards.

("But you don't like the hospital, Sasuke-kun.")

She was out like a candle before they even got to the main course.

Being enthusiastic neither for the people nor the ramen, he jumped at the opportunity and volunteered to take her home.

As he left the shop with her, Naruto called after him not to try anything funny and the table erupted into laughter and catcalls. He did not dignify any of that with a response.

She was completely malleable in his arms (Susanoo), her warm breaths seeping into the chest of his shirt, and he didn't dash through the air and over the roofs of civilian houses to get to the shinobi side of the residential district.

Abrupt movements could wake her, and she would fight to stay awake again.

Susanoo used enough chakra already and he needed to be conservative for tomorrow.

Reasoning ironed out, he took a leisure stroll to her apartment, occasionally glancing down to ensure her eyes remained peacefully closed.

.

He supposes he did attempt something funny that night. He called upon his Sharingan and committed to memory things that rightfully should be of no consequence to him.

.

.

He enjoys the long stretches of solitude in his travel, even if his voice will croak from disuse once he hits civilization again.

He likes forests best, especially after rain. The musk of earth and tree sap reminds him that clean air exists, and there is no curious gaze on his Rinnegan, no whispering except for the rivers and trees.

A heavy flapping of feathers reaches his ears, and he holds out his arm to receive the messenger falcon.

Letters from his team.

Naruto rambles, illegible at places, about everything and anything that has happened and then some more; and Kakashi includes some personal postscripts after a mission briefing.

He reads hers last, after feeding the bird and sending it away.

He's forgotten if he was the type to save the best or worst for last.

It's the first time she's written to him, and she's surprisingly succinct. Perhaps reserved. A greeting. Comment on the weather. Well-wishing. Her name. And that was all.

But against all logic, he felt her longing for him.

He isn't sure if it's the way the ink seems to tremble at certain strokes, or how the creases where the paper was folded adds a depth to the spaces she's left between the sentences, that seem to be filled with unspoken sentiments. Or if it's just his inflated ego.

He burns every letter he receives, as the information might get into the wrong hands, but can't bring himself to do the same for hers.

Fortunate, then, that she's written nothing that would be of interest to anyone.

(But him.)

.

.

The feeling of her eyes on him was calming, almost spiritual, like a brush of warm smoke at the back of his neck, downy feathers on his skin. He could have pretended sleep forever if she wasn't likely to figure him out the longer he kept up the charade.

.

.

It occurs to him one night, looking out the dirty window of an inn, that he has no idea who he is, if not war criminal, not terrorist or Akatsuki or missing nin; if not an avenger.

He's certainly no hero.

The more people he helps, the less he feels himself. There's a disconnect between what he's doing and what he knows himself to be. More often than not, he'd ask himself—what would Naruto do? What would Sakura do? What would Kakashi do? What would Itachi do—have done? (Damnitdamnitdamnit.)

And whatever he'd think they would do he'd do just that. It makes for surprisingly simple problem-solving.

But at his core he's not selfless like Itachi. Not faithful like Naruto. Not loyal like Kakashi. Not kind like Sakura.

At the end of the day, he still doesn't know what he would do.

He scarcely acknowledges it, but he keeps chasing after the back of these great people. He's running himself ragged trying to catch up, but he's so aggravatingly slow that it's a wonder he hasn't lost sight of them all.

He fears it's only a matter of time. And then he will once again be lost and directionless.

He's Uchiha Sasuke, and he no longer knows what that means.

.

.

"Oniichan, you suck." This statement is followed by chattering agreements of the other kids crowding around him on the dirt floor of the orphanage.

Children are vicious creatures, he's beginning to learn. He struggles to recall if he was ever this much trouble to Itachi as a kid. They are also incredibly unhygienic, and they incessantly tug at his clothes and hair, poke at the stub of his arm with such disregard that he almost misses the fangirl treatment from way back when in the village.

By the fifth time that they make him redo the voice for the rabbit-dog-cat-looking thing in the story, he's teeteringly close to setting Amaterasu-fire to the worn book in his lap.

His rescue comes in the form of the old matron appearing in the doorway announcing dinner. The children abandon him like one would a sinking ship.

"Thank you for playing with them, Uchiha-san."

He nods noncommittally as he receives his own bowl of food from one of the older kids. It was hardly his choice when the little ones ensnared him within their circle of skin and bones, threatening to cry if he didn't comply, so he thinks her gratitude is therefore unneeded.

None of these is needed. The feeding him, the lodging. He's only sticking around for at most a few more days to take care of the group of mountain bandits that has been harassing the orphanage. He would have been fine setting up camp nearby and not having to deal with the children growing attached (because he knows they will), but the matron insisted.

He's always had this inexplicable soft spot for the elderly, and he wonders if it's not in parts due to the fact that so few in his world get to be old and grey.

.

.

 "So Little Piggy went to ask Mommy Pig."

The matron's lilting voice floats to his ear as he perches atop the roof of the orphanage, miles and miles of moonlit forest spanning out before him.

 "'What is happiness, Mommy?'"

 "'It's your tail, sweetie,' said Mommy Pig, and Little Piggy looked at her wiggling tail."

For the longest time, he's had an idea of what happiness should be.

It was the firmness of Itachi's back. His mother's warm meals, and his father's approving grunts. It was a compound brimming with powerful chakras, and memories of children play-training in the clan's private training grounds; and red tomatoes getting snuck out of his mother's garden.

 "Little Piggy looked at her tail and began to chase it around in circles until she was out of breath. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't catch it at all!"

Happiness was home, when home wasn't yet piles of bodies and dark corridors and slipping on cold blood.

He has no idea what happiness would look like now.

 "'Mommy, how can I ever catch happiness?" asked Little Piggy."

 "'Well, sweetie, your tail will always be there. Why don't you keep walking and let happiness follow you?'"

He closes his eyes and taps into the warm hum of collective chakra inside the orphanage, the tiny sparks flickering dimmer and dimmer as sleep slowly claims the children.

 "And so Little Piggy listened to her mother. She walked forward without worry, for she knew her happiness is always wiggling right behind her. The end."

"Goodnight, my dears."

Matron closes the book and gets up from her squeaky chair to stand by the window right beneath where he is, likely to stare out into the forest.

"Goodnight, Uchiha-san."

If he didn't have his shinobi hearing he never would have caught the whispered words.

He's turned the bandits in to the authorities and said all goodbyes in the afternoon. She doesn't know he's there, and he's all the more puzzled.

He stands guard for the rest of the night and silently slips away from the orphanage's grounds at the break of dawn.

.

.

The weather in Tea is shifting into spring when he arrives at its border. After a few days of travelling in silence, he stumbles upon a cherry blossom tree that has flowered early, its cloud-like plumage colourful in a sea of solemn green; low-hanging branches swaying in invitation.

He tells himself it's as good a resting spot as any, and feels a decided sense of betrayal that the spilling flowers don't smell the way he thinks they should.

.

.

A letter arrives suddenly, informing him of her kidnapping, and he doesn't remember another time that he's been more desperate. She's not someone who'd just let herself be taken, and he fears the worst.

Her letters that he's saved in his pocket weigh like a ball of lead near his heart. He's running as if his life's at stakes. Perhaps it is. For the first time since getting the Rinnegan, he wishes he knew how to control it better.

Then, watching her take down her captors, he learns these:

She's grown so much, has come so far from that little girl she once was and no longer needs to be rescued, least of all by him.

He's the very reason why she's been taken in the first place, her weakness, just that kind of toxic existence to her.

After making sure she will be safe, he leaves and doesn't look back.

.

.

Just as she has been born into this life to love him, he must have been born with the sole purpose of bringing her pain.

He only needs all of two weeks in Konoha to have her crying before him again. The weather is grey as if matching the storm in his heart. They're standing in front of that bench where he's left her once upon a time, and he can't say he doesn't notice how history is dangerously close to repeating itself.

Every muscle in his body is coiled for battle, ready to cite the 'maybe' in his promise and gain the slightest semblance of equal moral grounding with her.

She's chewing on her lip in an attempt to bite back her emotions (probably more for his sake than hers. She needs to stop making things easy for him). The tears haven't spilt yet, but they are there, glazing over jewel-like green eyes.

"I thought this time surely—" She cuts herself off when her voice cracks and chews on her lips some more, breaking eye-contact. "What went wrong, Sasuke-kun?"

.

 Before he could stop himself, he'd already slapped her hand away, shouting at her not to touch him.

She simply smiled, like a mother dealing with the tantrum of a child, and calmly finished changing his bandages while guilt still had him in its vice.

.

He went wrong, but what else was new? With her, he's both a madman and a smitten fool, angry and frustrated and thankful and disgusted and confused and elated and most of all scared. Terrified.

The way she hugs herself and seems to be on the brink of falling apart is nauseating to look at. He's getting worked up over what was supposed to be a simple goodbye. But that's the problem, isn't it? Nothing's ever simple when she's involved.

"You know that this is your home, right? You've never needed to earn any right to stay in it."

"…I know."

She raises a doubtful eyebrow. "Do you?"

.

It had taken him two years and countless good deeds to finally find the resolve to forgive himself and return to Konoha as someone he thought would be worthy of his friends.

Yet all it took was one smile from her to undo all the confidence that he'd built up like it was a house of cards. He realized immediately that no amount of atonement would ever redeem him enough to be worthy of her.

"Welcome home, Sasuke-kun."

 And the worst part was that he wanted to stay regardless.

.

"Don't be annoying, Sakura." And he can see her visibly shrink back like she's been hit. He might as well have. His fist curls at his side, itching to do something just to stop her from further torturing her steadily swelling lip.

Instead of leaving him alone as he expects her to (and how senseless it is to keep expecting something that will never happen), she steps forward and grabs gingerly onto his mantle.

"Are you…unsatisfied in Konoha? With m—with us?"

He doesn't respond, and she seems to take his silence as agreement and starts to cry in true. Big, fat droplets roll down her cheeks as she matches his gaze. The raw hurt in her eyes startles him.

"What will make you happy, Sasuke-kun?" She tightens her grip, pulling him infinitesimally closer, choking on her words. "Please, please tell me how I can make you happy."

"That's not your problem." That's apparently also a wrong thing to say. She looks resigned now, and the sight somehow claws at him even more. The wind picks up suddenly, nearly drowning out her next words.

"Do you even want to be happy?"

He thinks for a length and honestly cannot say for certain he does. He can hardly picture what his happiness would be now that the old one is so drenched in blood, and misery is a lot harder to take away from a person.

It's ironic, then – or perhaps apt – that he would chase after something he doesn't really want. Because he's full of greed and self-gratification.

She once again takes his silence into her own narrative and lets out a long sigh. Meeting his gaze again, her eyes are already dry, red-rimmed, beseeching. Her voice is but a whisper.

"Is there something you want, Sasuke-kun? Anything?"

If she puts it that way, he wants a lot of things, as a greedy man should. Full control over the Rinnegan. Restore his clan. A tomato garden. Her. To name a few.

But he looks at her, her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and bruised lip, and sees that she is all wrong compared to everything he's etched into his memory; and blurts out the single thing that floats up to the forefront of his mind right then.

"I want you to be happy."

It takes her a second to react to his words, her large eyes becoming impossibly larger as her mouth opens only to close again. He's not sure why she's so surprised. Of course, he wishes her happiness, even if that will be independent of his own.

A million emotions seem to flicker past her expression in a second, of which he only identifies disbelief, suspicion, melancholy and finally exasperation before she inexplicably bursts into a short fit of giggles. She lets go of his mantle and, before he can miss the anchoring hold, reaches for his tight fist and brings it up between her palms, squeezing.

"I can do that."

She's smiling that smile that unravels him to his core again, her eyes glittering. And he can blame his carnal desires for overriding all of his faculty, but he finds himself ensorceled.

"How about we work on it together, Sasuke-kun?"

His chest is strangely free of heaviness as he uncurls his fingers, almost in a daze, and encases her callused yet delicate ones.

"Hn."

.

.

A few days before his departure, he asks if she would come with him and she agrees easily, if not a little exasperatedly that he'd waited so long to ask, and he's mystified as to why he's stayed up all night worrying that she wouldn't.

.

.

Three months into their journey together, a newly formed part of him is startlingly assured that she will always have his back, and nothing—nothing can ever change that.

.

It takes a while longer, but the day finally comes that he figures it out.

He's Uchiha Sasuke, and he means everything to Uchiha Sakura.

—

Notes: I do not own the children story.

[lakeside-simmer]

✿ Life of Rae Characters/Backstories ✿

Raelynn Harper was just your average teenage girl. She fell in love with someone who she had expected to be her "forever". That was not the case at all. Around 15 years of age, Raelynn had started dating Terrence Hartman, who was 17 at the time. He was your average “bad boy” that everyone dreamed of being with. Out of all the girls who threw themselves at him, he chose Raelynn (apparently there was something special about her). During her freshman year of high school, Raelynn had caught Terrence with the head of the cheer-leading squad. She was heartbroken and ended their relationship after a year of dating.

✿

Although her freshman year started off on a bad start, Raelynn began focusing on herself and her studies rather than worrying about relationships. She happened to be struggling in algebra and needed to be tutored. Jordan Westfall had volunteered to tutor her. After weeks of tutoring sessions, Raelynn had grown quite fond of Jordan and his company. Since they enjoyed spending time together, they had decided it was time to progress their relationship even further.

✿

1.5 years later, Raelynn and Jordan have an argument like no other. She couldn’t deal with what happened; she couldn’t face their problems head-on. She did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t have done…she had confided in Terrence too much and one thing led to another. Regardless of their significant others, Raelynn and Terrence kept going back to one another. Weeks later, Raelynn had found herself pregnant with Terrence’s child. Now she must choose whether to face the consequences and confess her actions to Jordan, or she must end her relationship and disappear.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Terrence Hartman was the boy everyone had fallen in love with. He was everything you could ever imagine. When he was just 17 years old, he met 15-year-old Raelynn Harper and fell in love. She wasn’t like the other girls. She had seen him as a person and not as a failure. Terrence had only dated Raelynn for a year, but that one year was cut short when he was caught cheating with Tanya Langford, the head cheerleader at Oasis High. Terrence had no intentions of cheating, but Tanya had convinced him otherwise.

✿

After Raelynn had ended their relationship, Terrence felt alone and broken. He lost a piece of his heart. Sure, it was mostly his fault, but he regrets every single minute of it. He continued his relationship with Tanya, but he still felt empty inside.

✿

The past two years with Tanya had become easier. He was slowly forgetting his love for Raelynn and he was falling for Tanya. It wasn’t until Raelynn had contacted him out of nowhere when his feelings for her started coming back. He offered his love and support throughout Raelynn’s struggles with Jordan, but that all ended when they were intimate with each other time and time again. Weeks after their many sexual encounters, Raelynn had announced she was pregnant and he was the father.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Tanya Langford lost her family in a tragic train accident. Her mother, father, and twin sister were on the train when it had collided with an oncoming train. Tanya had stayed behind that day. Her twin sister Viviana needed to have a lung transplant and she and her parents had to travel far away to do it. Tanya was told to stay behind so she wouldn’t miss school. In the middle of the school day, she was escorted out by the police. She had then discovered that it was her parents and twin sister who was the “unidentified individuals" she had seen on the news at school.

✿

After her parents’ death, Tanya had grown up in an orphanage for the majority of her life. Later on, she was moved into foster care until she turned 18. During these tragic years, she was surprisingly doing well for herself. She was head captain of the cheer-leading team at Oasis High and she had become one of the most popular girls in school. Not long afterward, she had met Terrence Hartman, the most popular boy in school.

✿

She had heard of Terrence’s relationship with Raelynn, but she ignored it. She kept making passes at him and he refused each time. She had to have him and she was going to do whatever it took to get him. One day, she cornered him under the bleachers in the gym. After many sexual passes, Terrence gave in and accepted her proposal. Soon after, they were caught by Raelynn and Tanya wasn’t the least bit sorry. After she ruined Terrence and Raelynn’s relationship, she convinced Terrence to continue their relationship.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Jordan Westfall was your average teenager. He was always shy and struggled to communicate with girls, especially the ones he found to be the most beautiful. Jordan was the smartest kid in his grade. Many girls rejected him because they didn’t want to be with a “nerd” or a “geek”.

✿

His whole middle and high school career left him with nothing but sorrow. It wasn’t until he was asked to be Raelynn’s tutor that things started to look up for him. He had a crush on Raelynn for the longest time and for him to be close to her was beyond amazing. He never had the courage to approach her because he wasn’t at all what she was looking for, or so he thought.

✿

Jordan was heartbroken for Raelynn as she told him about her ex Terrence and what he had done to her, but at the same time, he was also relieved because this was his chance to redeem himself and prove the others wrong. A few weeks had gone by and he and Raelynn were starting to become closer. They had soon made the decision to make their relationship official.

[zuzuma-katpaws]

The Day That Christmas was Not Ruined

Link to AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958318

AU - Dreamswap (Belongs to @onebizarrekai )

Words - Around 5,200

Summary -  Dream has been trying hard to help the orphans this Christmas, but it looks like he is going to need a lot more help than he planned.

“A Visit from St. Nicholas” is credited to Clement Clarke Moore

“Twas the night before Christmas,

When all through the house not a creature was stirring,

Not even a little mouse.”

The little toddler in Dream’s arms squirmed just a little bit before, his full attention once more to the story.

“The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar plums danced in their head.”

The other children in the orphanage were sitting down on the rug in front of Dream as he comfortably leaned back in the lounge chair, reading the poem that was printed in his hands. They were focused on Dream as he read the poem, however this didn’t bother Dream. He loved reading to the children, especially around the holidays. It gave the little ones a sense of wonder and happiness, which warmed his soul.

“Now Dasher! Now Dancer!

Now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid!

On, Donner and Blitzen!”

Dream looked up from the words to see Ink messing with the Christmas tree, rearranging the ornaments into something that met his standards…which were not high. The two met eye contact briefly but long enough for Dream to give a glare as to warning Ink of the consequences of burning another tree down. Quickly, Ink left the tree and stood elsewhere, fidgeting because of his boredom. Satisfied, Dream continued on with the poem.

“His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow!”

The children, who most didn’t understand the words that Dream was saying, were smiling with glee. Their imagination was indeed working to picture the poem in their head with Dream’s voice being the narrator in this fantasy world. A world that was much better than the one they lived in every single day.

“He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle.

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight.

‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’”

Once he finished, the children clapped along with the caretakers at the orphanage. “Boys and girls, what do we say to Lord Dream?” one of the caretakers asked.

“Thank you Lord Dream” all children said in unison. Dream smiled at this, a small joy filling his soul to the brim. He gently placed the small boy off his lap while saying, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must talk to the adults for a little bit.” The children were slightly disappointed, giving out pouts and whines but one of the Papyrus’ stepped around and said, “Now everyone please! Lord Dream is a very busy person. Go on and play while the bigger people talk.” The children begrudging agreed, and they scatter off to designated play areas in which the scene look rather chaotic at first. Dream got up from the chair he was reading from and readjusted his coat before approaching the workers.

“Thank you for coming and reading to the children today”, a Toriel said, one of the three working there, while shaking his hand in gratitude.

“It means so much to them whenever you come by a visit” another worker, an unnamed rabbit, said as her cheerful smile spread across her face.

“It’s the least I can do. These children have been through so much. They deserve a good Christmas after everything that’s happened to them.” Dream looked around the rather small building to see the children playing with well-worn out toys. For many of them, it will be their first Christmas in a safe environment while for the rest it will be the mark of another year of abandonment, rejection, and disappointment. None of them had many possessions such as their own toys or clothing, but thankfully the ‘Justice Reigns Orphan Rescue and Protection Program’ had enough donations, whether in the form of money or items, to help each child enough to get by. However, it was running low because of so many children in need and high-dollar contributors couldn’t see much of a point in it. Dream frowned just a little at this thought, which caught the attention of the Papyrus from earlier.

“Sir? If you don’t mind me asking, what’s wrong?”

“Oh! It’s something…that has been a bit disappointing as of late.”

“…Does it concern the children?” the young rabbit asked, a little worried about the change in the Dreams’ mood. Dream sighed, trying to push away the concern for now. “It’s fine. Nothing for any of you or the children to worry about.”

“Speaking of the children, when are we expecting…um…the delivery?” Toriel asked. Dream knew immediately of what she was speaking of. Every year, Justice Reigns had a fancy Christmas-themed fundraiser in an effort to provide toys to every orphan in the Multiverse. Then the presents were going to be delivered to every orphanage around. Even the orphanages outside of Justice Reign’s protection would receive a delivery (whether or not those places was willing to give the children the presents rather than selling the toys around JR’s back made things slightly more difficult on Dream’s part).

However, this year ended up in disaster. It started near Halloween when someone acquired a photo of Dream at run-down bar, getting drunk and being forced to leave. That someone ended up sending the photo to many paparazzi agencies whom did everything in their power to make Dream look like a relapsed alcoholic; the real truth was that the photo was taken long before Dream even met Ani not to mention that he hadn’t touch the stuff for more than a decade now, despite his cravings. Still, nobody would listen and rather believe a lie, thus tarnishing his name enough to cause problems. When the fundraiser finally came around, nobody wanted to help because it would only support Dream’s supposedly relapsed drinking. As such…they didn’t get far out of the starting gate when donations opened. The fundraiser itself didn’t make enough for one orphanage to receive presents, much less all the ones under Justice Reigns’ domain.  They couldn’t deviate any of the funds from other programs because of the tight budget from the previous year. This upset Dream greatly, causing most of his depression, stress, and insomnia as of late.  

Now, how was he going to explain this to these orphanage caretakers? Those working at Justice Reigns knew better than to believe such things, as this was not the first time paparazzi caused problems and they knew it would not be the last. They remained loyal to Dream, to which he was grateful. Most volunteers who worked in the programs provided by Justice Reigns knew that he wasn’t some drunk sycophant, because he would visit often, be friendly towards everyone, and smelling clean and being presentable, not like an ungrateful creature covering the stench of rotten alcohol and making a fool of himself. He hoped that they would understand as he explained in full detail of what was going on and why there wasn’t anything to delivery.

“That’s…horrible” Toriel said, in such a soft whisper as if she didn’t believe the words herself.

“No…” the bunny said, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“There…isn’t…the children need something for Christmas! There is something we have to do!” Papyrus exclaimed. Dream agreed, however it was so close to Christmas already – only a week away really. But what could they do? He had been trying to figure out a situation since the fundraiser. Dream had even resorted to pleading with many of his past contributors, however they would not budge. He talked to many toy makers in an effort to donate some of the older toys they had failed to sell, but they were more concerned about their profits. It pained Dream to see how truly selfish and cold-hearted people were becoming this Christmas. It was a time of giving to those who are in need…and these children needed something good to happen in their lives!

“I will find a way. I will.” Dream said these words to the caretakers and he was determined to resolve this problem. He was. But after he left that day…things happened. Many of these problems were the ones that forced Dream’s attention away from this predicament, which would sometimes take an entire day. Sometimes it felt that the entire Multiverse was against him. Despite being able to make some progress, Dream ran out of time.

He was lying down on the floor in his office once Christmas Eve came, disappointed and depressed. The lights were out, leaving the office dark and hard to see if it were not for Dream’s wings glowing; however the wings were also dim from their usual brightness. The office slightly trashed due to Dream’s temper, however nothing valuable broken. Facing the ceiling with blank stare, he knew that he failed. The happy and proud atmosphere that once filled the castle called Justice Reigns was nothing but bitter moods and terrible attitudes. For once, Dream didn’t care. He was more worried about the children. He put so much effort into their well-being that…it hurt knowing they were going to wake without anything for them underneath the tree, thinking that they not good enough for Santa’s Nice List. His hand had grabbed the necklace softly, wondering what Ani would think of this. He concluded that they would be disappointed in him for not doing better.

The door cracked open, revealing Ink. His blank stare reached Dream’s eyes, but nothing was said. Instead, Ink huffed and went to sit on the desk, as it seemed that every chair and the couch were destroyed. “Things not going as planned?”

“Things didn’t go as planned” Dream replied dryly, his teeth clenched in anger as he scowled. Ink looked around the room a little bit but finding difficulty in seeing in the darkness. Ink looked up, seeing the remains of the fan still spinning.

“You killed the fan?”

“Yeah”

“…It was ugly. It needed to go.”

“Yeah”

They sat in complete silence for many minutes after that. Ink started up another conversation, perhaps out of boredom. “I don’t see what the big deal is. After all, isn’t this whole Christmas thing like a competition?” Dream sighed a little at this, understanding where Ink was going with this. “It does seem like it sometimes. Who can get the best gifts? Who can be the nicest?” Dream shut his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “Christmas isn’t supposed to be like that though. It’s supposed to be a time where you help each other, despite what bad times might come through the winter.”

“…What were your Christmases like?”

Dream smiled a little. “You mean before Justice Reigns happened, correct?” He could tell that Ink shrugged, even though his eyes were still shut. Memories flooded back to Dream, most of them good this time but it still felt like his soul wanted to tear apart. “Nightmare and I would get each other presents. It was so hard to hide his because he was so damn nosy. But every Christmas, we managed to surprise each other every time. We even had a Christmas tree, but no matter how hard I tried to prevent it or redecorate, Nightmare would always botch up the appearance of the tree. He always claimed that it gave the tree ‘character’ though honestly it looked like a mess. I remember one year he managed to set it on fire. It didn’t burn down all the way though and we didn’t feeling like getting another one so it just stood there. I don’t even know how we managed to get the smell of smoke out of the house.”

Dream opened his eyes, done with reminiscing. He turned his head to Ink and asked, “What were yours like?”

“Never celebrated it.”

Dream’s stern gaze faltered for a second. “Never? Why?”

“Like I said, seems like a competition more than anything else. Besides, if I want anything then I just buy it or something like that.” Dream sighed, however it was a fair point. Nobody but Dream ever got Ink any presents and Ink never bothered to give any. However the thought itself was disheartening. The phone rang on Dream’s desk, to which Ink grabbed in quickly to answer it.

“Ello’? Who’s this?” Dream rolled his eyes, but in all honesty he didn’t feel like talking to anybody. He would rather let Ink mess this up than get up from the floor that he found comfort in. Ink listened to the phone call and finally answered, “Ok” before hanging up. “Someone just broke into one of the orphanages. Wanna come or just leave me to do it?”

“I don’t ca- WHAT?!”

“Yeah, someone broke into one of the orphanages. The worker said it was probably a thief. They’re still there.”

“GET OFF MY DESK AND LET’S GO!”

It was official. Dream was pissed. Who would rob an orphanage on Christmas Eve? Assholes, that’s who. Since the children didn’t even have presents in the first place, the only thing left to steal was the children’s belongings! That was not going to happen on Dreams’ watch! It didn’t even take them an hour to reach their destination. There they noticed that the door was ajar, the lock broken and everything.

Dream motioned Ink to stay behind him, than quietly snuck through the door without making a sound. He noticed dirt and snow tracks leading into the foyer, so he crouched down and sneaked along, following the path. The tracks then lead to the chimney area which was big and mostly bare except for the Christmas tree, which gave enough light to see the bare minimum. There was shuffling sounds nearby so they huddled the corners where there was no light to avoid detection. Dream saw someone messing around the Christmas tree before going to the chimney itself. Dream could tell that this person was wearing a red and green outfit but he couldn’t clearly see. Seeing as though there was only one person there though, Dream jumped out of his hiding spot and drew out his sword, yelling, “This is JR! Freeze and put your hands up now!”

The figure froze in their spot, hands automatically shooting upward in the air.

“Turn around slowly and do not try anything, or I will kill you”

“…I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dream” the stranger said, with a familiar voice that Dream knew all too well. Dream was shocked as the figure turned around. It was Nightmare, in a rather ornate red and green outfit that was similar to his normal one, only the moon symbol was replaced with snowflakes. His purple eyes show their usual mischievous look and his black messy hair was mostly covered with an elf-hat while his circlet was probably in his inventory. Nightmare smiled a cocky smile, which told Dream he was up to something.

“What are you doing here Nightmare?” Dream demanded in a strict tone, not backing down. Nightmare lowered his hands and started speaking, but a large paintbrush swung out of nowhere and struck him down onto the floor. Ink looked so please with himself as he kneeled down and handcuffed Nightmare behind his back. “DUDE WAIT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! WE’RE ONLY HELPING OUT!” Dream motioned Ink to stop for a moment, and looked at Nightmare for an explanation.

“Okay so we heard about how bad the whole fundraiser thing went and we got to thinking about the kids at the orphanages and Error started panicking about the whole thing and went into a rant about ‘Kids need something for Christmas Nightmare!’ and so we decided do something about it” Nightmare explained quickly, not making full coherent sentences. Dream, however, quickly pieced together what Nightmare said. “You…you’re helping? How exactly? By stealing from them?”

Nightmare looked insulted from this statement. “No! What do you take me for? Sure I can be an asshole sometimes but I’m not soulless.” Ink narrowed his gaze at Nightmare, to which Nightmare turned his head slightly to face him and said, “You know what I mean.”

Dream had to think about what Nightmare said, which did make sense. Nightmare and his gang still had standards and if they stole anything it was for a decent reason or pure survival. They weren’t the type to hurt a little kid on purpose, unless it was an evil ‘Frisk’ or ‘Chara’ but that situation would fall under self defense. There was a problem with Nightmare’s story though. Nightmare had no toys on him nor was there any present nearby. “Pray tell how were you going to help then?”

“Well…here’s the thing…the presents that we brought are in the chimney…with…‘Santa’.”

Dream paused when he heard this before he directed his attention to the chimney. He approached it slowly and looked up, noticing someone stuck up there as evident by the casual swinging of his black boots. “…Who is up there, exactly?” Dream asked as he stared back at Nightmare; however he got his answer quickly as a person hollered out, “Nightmare! Nightmare, what are you doing!? Help me down already!” It was Cross’ voice.

“Yeah, ‘Santa’ had too much chocolate this year. Will you let me go now?” Dream was exasperated to say in the least, but he did motion for Ink to get up. Ink obeyed, but did not uncuff Nightmare. “Dude!” Nightmare hollered out as he got up from ground and glared at Ink. “Do it yourself.” “You have the keys!” “Why should I? I’m soulless after all”

“Boys, stop” Dream said in a low growl, not wanting to deal with this right now.

“Fine Boss”

“Fine Bossy”

Dream had to bite back a remark before returning to the task at hand. “Uncuff him, Ink, and help us pull Cross down.” Ink reluctantly done as he was told before Ink and Dream huddled in the chimney, each one grabbing a foot that was swinging and started pulling; Nightmare decided to go outside and investigate the top of the chimney to see if there was anything he could from there. Dream and Ink pulled as hard as they could but Cross only slightly moved downward.

“Stop Nightmare! That hurts!”

“Not Nightmare!” Ink hollered back in frustration.

“…INK? What are you doing here!?” Cross cried out in shock, clearly unaware of what was going on.

“Getting your fat butt out of there!”

“I’m not fat! My muscles are too big!”

“Yeah, your ‘table muscles’!” said Nightmare in a loud voice as he ran back inside and headed for the kitchen. Dream barely saw him go by, only to notice that they were not alone anymore. The children were all gathered downstairs along with the caretakers, watching the commotion with confusion and nervousness. “It’s all right everyone! Santa is just stuck right now but JR is working very hard to set him free” Dream explained nervously.  

“Is Santa gonna live?” asked a small little monster child, who wasn’t but a foot tall and probably only two years old.

“YES! He will live!” Dream exclaimed, only to notice Nightmare running out of the kitchen with a few gallons of something and bolting straight outside before he could say anything else. “What’s going on?” Cross asked, to which Dream could tell he was panicking slightly.

“Don’t worry ‘Santa’! It’s just the ‘children’! They’re worried about you!”

“…Children? …OH! HO HO HO! I’m fine kiddos!” Cross hollered out; however it was clear that he was using a deeper voice than normal to fit the persona he took on. Dream groaned, knowing that he was only one right now realizing how terribly this was all going. Soon enough Cross cried out, “What are you doing Nightmare!? What is this stuff?!”

“Just pretend its chocolate!” Nightmare cried out, which was fainter and clearly farther above Cross. Dream didn’t understand what was going on until he saw cooking oil dripping down the sides of the chimney. Both Ink and Dream continue pulling on Cross’ legs, despite the complaints that the other was giving. They tried to be careful but the oil started getting all over Cross and themselves as well. Unfortunately, Cross had only moved a few inches. “Now what?” Ink asked Dream directly, however Dream had no time to think of another solution before chaos happened.

“SORRY NOT SORRY!”

“HOLY-!”

Cross was forced out of the chimney finally, colliding with Dream and Ink underneath him with full force. All in all, everyone could see the three dirty, oily men in a defeated pile with Nightmare casually sitting on top of them, saying, “I call that a ten out of ten.”

“I am personally adding ‘physical assault’ to your criminal records when this is all done” Dream growled on his back while Ink was squirming to get out from underneath.

“Hah. Bold of you to assume that those charges weren’t already in there!”

They all managed to get up, but they looked awful. Their clothes were practically ruined with the debris and cooking oil sticking to their coats and jeans, their hair sticking out in different positions, Cross’ beard was practically black at this point, the Santa suit that Cross wearing ruined-WAIT.

Dream stared at Cross’ face in disbelief, surprised at the foreign hair that was attached to it. It was awful looking, being untamed and un-kept. It wasn’t even that thick too, making it harder to look at. He even had side-burns and a moustache to go with it, being whiter than what his beard is now currently. All-in-all, Cross appeared like a sixty year old hobo instead of his normal age. Cross narrowed his eyes back at Dream, agitated at the fact that Dream was even staring at him. Ink merely looked at beard and decided to yank it to test if it was real.

“OUCH!”

“Huh. It is real. Go figure” Ink thought out loud while Cross tried to rub the discomfort out of his face.

“…Why?” Dream asked, slightly disturbed by this new look. Nightmare shrugged as he replied, “He wanted to look the part. Error and I wanted him to wear a fake one but he absolutely refused.”

“…Santa?”

All the men froze in their spot and looked down at the little human girl who walked up to them and spoke in such a soft voice. Cross, immediately in character, kneeled before the little girl and asked in a deep jolly voice, “Ho ho ho! Yes, little one?” The little girl looked up in awe, her eyes bright as she saw the nice man that she heard so many stories about. “Did…did you come to bring presents for us?”

“I sure did! Ho Ho Ho! Little elf, bring the presents!”

“You might not want to call me little, ‘Santa’” Nightmare said in a cheery tone however his eyes were definitely twitching from the insult. The bag of presents that was trapped in the chimney with Cross, which wasn’t fancy to begin with, made it safely down surprisingly without breaking anything. Nightmare had begun passing out presents while Dream, Ink, and Cross needed to wash up and get changed out of their clothes before helping out. The caretakers and other workers at the orphanage managed to find some extra clothes that fit Dream and Ink while Cross ended up with the spare Santa suit that was two sizes too big. At this point, it was evidently clear that Cross looked ridiculous however at this point he didn’t care as he was too busy having fun and being ‘Santa’ to the little ones.

After many of the presents were given out, Dream noticed a few things that were…off with them…so to speak. One, all of them was unwrapped so either Nightmare’s gang ran out of time or didn’t bother to do it. Two, some were crotchet stuff toys in a familiar blue string, being strong, sturdy, and soft as well. They were friendly looking and the smaller children took to the dolls extremely well. Three, the rest of the toys were like Frankenstein abominations, such as a walking doll with duck feet while wearing a rain coat, toy pirate ships with monster truck wheels, and a lot of stuff ostrich toys that had a horse for a head and reptile feet that actually wiggled; Dream showed this particular one to Nightmare and asked for an explanation. “Oh! That one there is what we call, ‘Harry the Horsetrichsauras’. We’re pretty sure it’ll be in popular demand before long.”

“Why is there mutant atrocities disguised as toys coming out of that bag?”

“Well, we knew that Error couldn’t make enough toys for all the kiddos, so Cross and I broke into this warehouse full of broken or poorly made toys that were going to be discarded. We decided to make actual suitable toys out of them. It was hard but looking at this scene…it was so worth it.” Nightmare looked at the kids playing with their toys with an endearing smile on his face, something that was very rare for him. To Dream’s astonishment, Nightmare and Cross did a good job on the variety and quality on the toys as the children play with toys ecstatically. It made Dream smile as well.

Nightmare’s phone rang, which interrupted the scene and getting everyone’s attention. Nightmare answered it without hesitation. “Error! What’s up?”

“Where are you? I just got the last of the toys finished!”

“Uhh…the first stop…”

Nightmare flinched as Error practically hollered through the speakers of the phone. “ARE YOU CRAZY? You can’t there any longer or Dream will find out!”

“Already did” Dream answered, a little startled as well after the screaming. There was a pause before Error said, “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Listen Error, it’s a long story but we finished delivering the presents for here, so we’re going on!”

“Nightmare, you don’t have enough time! You’ve been there for more than two hours and at this rate you won’t even get half done when Christmas is over!” This caused Nightmare to wince, and when the duo looked over they saw Cross staring back at them with a worried look on his face. Dream straightened up when he realized what he needed to do. “I can help, and I can get Ink to help whether he wants to or not.” Ink groaned when he heard this while Nightmare looked at Dream with surprise, but Dream continued talking. “I can get these presents delivered to these orphanages faster than any of you can, and I can do it legally for that matter. The caretakers or workers won’t hesitate to let me inside and I don’t need to slide down tiny chimneys like an idiot.”

“Hey! It was a accident!”

“Let me help…I failed these kids once so let me redeem myself.”

Dream was dead serious…and Nightmare knew it. Nightmare smirked and said, “On one condition; you don’t arrest us right after this.” Dream smirked as well and remarked, “Only if Cross shaves that rat off his face.”

“Now you guys are just being mean…”

‘Operation Save Christmas’ was a go. The plan was relatively simple. Nightmare and the now beardless Cross would bring all the presents to Justice Reigns where Dream and the other employees (who agreed on the truce just for tonight) would deliver the presents to each orphanage quickly and silently. They, along with the orphanage workers (who were informed by the sudden news) quickly got the presents inside and under the tree before any other children woke up.

It was a race against the clock…and they were a few bumps in the plan that caused Dream to personally intervene…

…but they did it.

Every orphan got a present for Christmas. Everyone in Justice Reigns celebrated and before long a party broke out in the entire castle with booze and quickly made hand-size food. Dream was swept up in the thrill of it all and celebrated as well. Nightmare and Cross attended too as well as Error, who was so happy about the results that he could barely stand it. It was a blast as everyone celebrated Christmas Eve with each other, deciding to ignore past the hardships of the year and be thankful for the upcoming new year. The party itself lasted even after every orphan woke up and opened their gifts, which they all loved their toys dearly.

Eventually Dream was forced to retire from the party, leaving the employees still giddy in their celebrations. Even though Dream did not touch any form of alcohol, he still felt light-headed and emotional from the whole experience. He walked into his office, since it was closer than his bedroom, only to be reminded and disappointed by all the broken furniture that he cannot sleep on. He did see Nightmare though, lying down on the floor and curl away from Dream. He was so sure that his twin was asleep until Nightmare turn to him and simply said, “Hey.”

“…You too. Tired?”

“You have no idea. I can’t remember the last time I slept…maybe before this whole Christmas ruckus started.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…I was so sure that if I slept then there wouldn’t be enough toys and everything would fail. I was starting to have nightmares from the whole thing.”

“…Same here.”

They looked at each other for what seemed like several minutes in awkward silence before Dream asked, “You’re just going to sleep here?” Nightmare laughed before dryly commenting, “I was going to use the couch for a little bit but someone decided it shouldn’t exist anymore.” Dream smiled and shook his head, a little embarrassed. “It was not my finest moment.”

“Obviously. This whole thing must have made you upset and for good reason.”

“Yeah…were you the one who…you know…?”

“I didn’t get that picture or use it against you if that’s what you’re asking. You know that I will never stoop that low when it comes to embarrassing you.”

“I see…”

“Whoever that guy was must be pretty vindictive though. Or he could be just a general everyday asshole. Either or.”

“…Thank you.”

These words took Nightmare off guard for a moment. He studied his twin’s face, perhaps wondering if Dream really meant it. Dream swallowed his pride for a moment before saying, “Thank you for doing this. I couldn’t give those kids their Christmas this year and I was ready to give up. Then, out of nowhere, you swooped in and fixed it like some kind of superhero. While I was pitying them and just becoming more stress over the while situation, you and the others basically did the hard work for no reward whatsoever. So I want to say thank you.”

“…Uh…I really don’t know what to say”

Dream only sighed and decided to lie down beside Nightmare on the floor. This caused Nightmare to physically flinch but he did not move away from Dream. “Dude, your bedroom isn’t that far away.” “I know” Dream said, turning his gaze toward Nightmare after he got comfortable. To his surprise, Nightmare’s face started to heat up as he appeared flustered. Nightmare lightly punched Dream in the shoulders before curling up to him, slowly closing his eyes to rest. Dream smiled at this, closing his eyes and listen to the other one breathe in and out peacefully for what seemed like forever. Nightmare did wake up sometime later and grabbed Error and Cross before heading back to their hideout, just in case somebody got the bright idea of breaking the truce. However, Dream didn’t mind. Deep down, he was happy about the entire outcome.

[rosekard]

Consequences of our Actions: Chapter 9

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345253/chapters/62654701

Tw: Mentions of abuse 

Henry and Linda had a beautiful wedding. Susie had volunteered to sing during the reception, and Sammy played backup on the violin. They had the wedding in a local church, and the reception was held in the music department, courtesy of Josiah. Norman and Wally had small lanterns around the department, giving the room a lovely glow.

The newlyweds left that night, planning to take a week for their honeymoon on the beach. Once everything had been taken down and put away from the reception, the guests went home.  Joey found himself wandering the studio for a while, trying to figure out what the next short should be.

He had been alone for a few hours when he heard pounding on the door of the studio. Assuming that someone forgot something, he ran to open the door. When he did, he saw a young lady that he couldn’t recognize.

She had herself covered in layers of clothing, her hair covered by a black veil. Her eyes were a chestnut brown, and full of fear. She was holding something he couldn’t see close to her chest, it was also wrapped in cloth. He ushered her inside, and offered a cup of tea, to which she shook her head. Looking at her, he could tell that she was shivering.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” She shook her head before she softly spoke “I apologize for my intrusion, but I am in danger.” Josiah gently placed a hand on her shoulder “Don’t worry, you are safe here. How can I help you?” After a moment she locked eyes with him, tears pricking at her eyes “I need you to take in my daughter.” The two stood for a moment in silence before she spoke up again.

“Please, my husband will kill her and I if she stays. The past six months have been terrible and I don’t want her hurt.  I’m running from him, but I can’t keep her. I don’t want her to be in an orphanage, I know the cruelties of them. I beg of you, take care of her, or give her to someone that will!” Tears streamed down the lady’s face as she spoke in desperation. “I’ll take her in. You won't have to worry about her. I only ask you for three things in return.” She nodded “Anything”

Josiah smiled “Tell me your name” “My name? My name is Anne.” A lovely name, he thought “Come to see her one day. She is still your daughter, and I would like her to meet the kind lady who saved her life.” Anne nodded “Finally, allow me to help you before you leave. You will be safe here and if anyone tries to find you, I’ll keep you in my office till they leave”

Before she left Joey gave her food, a winter coat, and some money to help her along. Carefully she handed the baby, who had slept through the whole exchange, over to Joey. He held the baby as the lady left through the back door.

Holding the child in his arms he walked to his old office, which he converted into a bedroom. Still in his clothes from the wedding he laid down on the bed. The little girl’s soft brown hair had some gentle waves that he ran his hand over as he fell asleep.  He would have quite a bit to explain to his friends in the morning, but for now he would sleep.

[lovely-luminary]

Okay so I absolutely adore the sudden popularity of healthier ndrv3 pre game headcanons? So here are some of my thoughts about pre game Kaito that I wanted to share :D

*He has facial hair to make himself look older so he can get a job before he’s legally old enough

*Has worked 2.5 jobs since he was 15 and one is at the nursing home his grandparents currently live. The other is a run down gas station where he studies instead of doing his actual job 80% of the time, and the .5 is any other seasonal work he can get from local businesses during Holliday’s such as working at a shrine during New Years

*Wears so many layers because his button up work shirt is on under his school jacket so he can just go straight to work from school most days

*Lives in a shitty apartment alone with about a dozen house plants. He started taking care of them for his grandmother when she first had to move into the nursing home, but he has actually become quite fond of them

*When he gets really lonely/stressed sometimes he’ll smoke his grandfathers old kiseru pipe (he swipes tobacco from the gas station) and the smell reminds him of when he was younger and more carefree and his grandparents still lived with him

*Considers himself ‘Too busy for relationships and friendships’ and can be a bit stand off-ish at times, but that doesn’t stop him from practically adopting anyone who he registers as being mistreated in front of him (he doesn’t have sidekicks but like in game he doesn’t call people his friends either, so that he can maintain at least the illusion of distance from others)

*Actually studies a lot in the hope that he can get out of his shitty situation and take care of his grandparents more easily with a decent job (Though people often tell him it’s impossible that a punk like him would ever make anything of himself)

*Used to be bullied years ago (Mostly for not having parents or having older/worn looking clothes/school supplies) but now has a reputation for being a bully due to his hot headedness and sometimes physical rebuttals

*Despite this he has a pretty strict moral code about how others (especially those he perceives as vulnerable) should be treated. It was exacerbated by seeing how other old folks at the nursing home are often treated by their family members (like those that seldom visit or are visibly annoyed by the issues their older relatives have)

*He likes to tear up rich people neighborhoods and smash mailboxes to let off steam when the unfairness of life gets to be too much for him

*like in game he has a lot of adventurous stories, but it’s mostly stuff he tells to his grandmother (who has memory issues) to both keep her entertained and to not have to keep recapping how crappy his life is to her

*Never really got into danganronpa until he one day rescues local sweaty nerd Shuichi from bullies (it was 5 against 1- clearly he Had to step in) and he consequently gained a friend who loves to info dump to him about it during lunch periods

*Kaito is mainly interested in the concept of the prize money and how he could use it to get his grandparents into a better home and to ensure their health is taken care of, though he is also really interested in the lgbt characters from the series (for reasons he has trouble admitting to himself at first)

*Though Kaito has heard of gay people before it’s mostly in a casual way with negative connotations, and it’s only after Shuichi presents the concept in a positive and non judgmental way that Kaito can gather up the courage to let himself wonder if he himself might not be straight

*Kokichi is Shuichi’s casual friend as the only other openly gay kid in his class (though they are both technically bi), so Kaito subsequently gains Another friend at lunch times

*Kokichi, much like Kaito, is often overwhelmed by feelings of injustice but is more likely to resort to tears of frustration than fists ((also Kaito is a bit of a sympathetic crier so sometimes they both get overwhelmed while arguing about something petty and end up crying at each other))

*This leads to Kaito calling him a crybaby, then later baby doll (on account of how he can almost turn off the tears instantly like a toy), and eventually morphs into calling him doll face or just doll once they start dating (I really like the idea of pre game Kaito having old fashioned nick names that he gets from watching old soap opera reruns with his grandmother)

*Maki works at the same nursing home that kaito’s grandparents are at (volunteering looks good on resumes and it beats just going back to the orphanage once school lets out). They are casual acquaintances

*Kaito would rather die than talk about any hardships he’s going through. Very much so wants to handle Everything himself without showing signs that he’s struggling

*Overall more reserved than in game Kaito and tends to only be as loud when he’s angry or too excited, like when Kokichi ropes him into pulling off a dumb prank and he gets to feel like a kid again (Because even though he is still technically a kid he never really gets to let loose like one)

*During his audition he tries to act really exaggeratedly bloodlust-y because he is desperate to get picked and knows that its his best shot for standing out

[thedistantstorm]

Keep On Rising (Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 13

Found Family | Zavala is Tower Dad | Father-Daughter Relationship | Childhood Trauma and Recovery | Canon-Typical Violence | Amputation

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

This time: Zavala asks for another favor. Eva takes matters into her own hands.

-/

Zavala is pacing. In the years that she has known him, Karena has never seen him anxious. It doesn’t have the humbling behind-the-scenes kind of appeal, or make him seem less of the immovable person that he’s always been, to see him this way now. Perhaps that’s because Zavala has always had this approachable, human aspect to him despite his stoic exterior. Now, in this light, she realizes that he holds himself together well. That he places his concerns for others before his own well-being.

Right now, she is the one who has to fight for him. He’d insisted they do this the right way, no matter how desperately he wanted to throw his weight around. It would only create serious drama, for them - Karena, the orphanage, and Zavala - as well as for Amanda, the innocent bystander caught in the middle of it all.

“I’m telling you,” She says, clipped into her comm, “Grace. Listen to me. I have an adopter. I have someone who will take the girl. I never even knew you’d been assigned to her. This is hardly fair to anyone, most of all her.”

The Commander turns back from the front window of the orphanage, his eyes narrowing on her features as the response comes. “Look. It’s almost always a twenty-one day window. You had more time than that, and the psychiatrist called me. That’s what they’re bound to do by civil law. As of yesterday at ten hundred hours, I became her guardian. She’s handicapped, therefore she comes to me. Honestly, you should have seen that coming, Karena. You’ve been doing this longer than me.”

The kindly matron scoffs. “I was with her prospective adopter, he was filling out the paperwork. I had planned to have this sorted, Grace. You should have waited for handoff. I can’t imagine it went over well with Amanda.”

“Yes, well, teary goodbyes would have gone over about as well as her little tantrum.” Grace’s voice is stern, not at all sweet like her nickname of Gracie. It’s for the best, as Karena never used it. “She thought the Tower’s hospital was the best this City had to offer. It’s sad, what these impoverished ones think.”

Karena looks over at Zavala, standing ramrod straight, watching the glow of the comms device underlight the woman’s face. He hides it well, but she sees the tic of his jaw in fury. “Her prospective adopter is military. The girl is likely terrified she won’t see him.”

“That’s strange, the only thing she’d say to the psychiatrist is that she refuses to be adopted. So I’m not sure who your mystery adopter is, but clearly-”

“She’s just saying that. We hadn’t told her yet. You know the amount of red tape there is.”

“I do. But you know our rules. I don’t make them. You’d have to talk to the governor of the orphanage. It’s not to me to bend them for you.”

“Oh bullshit,” Karena curses. “You and I both know that’s just a money-grab. Her prospective parent cannot tithe to New Monarchy. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“Well then they cannot be considered.”

“Just look over the application I sent you, Grace. I’m certain you’d change your mind.”

“You know I can’t.” She almost sounds remorseful, but it fades quickly. “This is the way it works. You know how it is. They’d strip me of my job in an instant. You need to remember how things work around here. It’s why you never made it out of that crummy little home.”

“I assure you,” Karena states firmly, looking over at Zavala and then back to the woman on the comms device, “That the location in which we do our work does not matter when the quality of care we provide comes not from physical resources but from the effort we put into raising our children. I have never thought it ethical to force prospective parents to pay for the opportunity. I’d rather they put their money into raising the child.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. If your prospective adopter changes their mind about New Monarchy, have them apply for the program. There’s only a four month wait for consideration to enter our foster-to-adopt program. I’m certain they’d match him with the right child.”

“Oh, you-”

The comms click and fall silent, the light on the screen fading.

“That bitch,” Karena swears, pushing the machine aside. “That wretched bitch.”

“I can talk to the Speaker,” Zavala finally says, after a few moments of even pacing through the small room. “Just as a temporary-”

“Absolutely not,” Shiori interjects, shimmering into the room, cones pointed in a serious pose. “You know you cannot sign up for New Monarchy. He would tell you the same. The Vanguard has a history of remaining neutral and supporting each faction equally. It would be a disaster.”

“Then what do I do, Shiori?” 

Karena clasps her hands over her heart. The tone of his voice is heartbreaking, it’s clear he truly does not know how to proceed.

“You can’t jump on the New Monarchy bandwagon.” She shifts around, making sure to stay in his line of sight. “Zavala, it’s literally the thing Hideo has been waiting for. He’d capitalize on this.”

“I don’t think he’s that heartless.”

“Do you want to find out?” Shiori asks.

“I don’t care.”

Shiori waits him out, sees the clench of his fists, the heavier breaths. “Yes, you do. You know this could very well cause a faction war, if you’re not careful.” 

“What about Amanda? I can’t imagine she’s faring well. They won’t even let non-backers volunteer.”

“Then we’ll get someone to back them,” The Ghost relents. “Just, sit, okay? You’re going to pace a hole in the floor.”

He drops into the chair across from the matron’s desk with a sigh. “Who do we ask?”

“Chin up, Guardian. We’ll figure it out.” Shiori turns to Karena. “You, too. I have an idea.”

-/

In all her years, Eva has done plenty of outlandish things. Taken certain risks - in influencing fashion and in life in general. Most of them had paid off, been worth it. She'd been asked by plenty for help, and always given what she could give - maybe even more than, if she's honest.

But, this, she thinks, looking at Zavala, his glittering gaze dead serious and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes far more pronounced in his exhaustion, is not something she should have to agree to.

Not because she does not want to. He is not a man who asks for things for himself - this might be the most selfish thing he's ever asked for. He should not have to ask her for this.

And he knows it.

He tells her as much. But he is not above rules, he cannot act around them. He will not, even if he holds himself personally accountable for the very negative impact it has on the child.

His child, he very softly admits to her.

He will do it right, and he'll pay her. She simply has to help him get her back via the correct channels, he'll compensate her for her troubles, and for whatever funds New Monarchy demands of her.

She isn't interested in that and tells him call as much. She has never shied away from telling him the truth. "This is quite literally the most ridiculous series of hoops the factions have ever had you jump through."

"It can't be like this," He agrees. "I'm working on a proposal to change things." And, softer, "It's madness."

"It is, my friend." Zavala sighs at that. Eva does not like seeing him so hopeless. "But I'll do it."

For a moment, Eva thinks he's going to hug her, he looks so relieved. When he doesn't, she hugs him, anyway. He hugs her back and she wonders for a brief moment if perhaps there isn't something she could do to expedite the process.

She returns to the Tower North, slowing as she hears the Executor's voice, mellow and smooth. She has heard plenty of praise for him, and certainly a fair bit of criticism, but he has always been cordial to her. She wonders how much of this he knows about. The policies, the reasons… she's certain he's involved. But she's also certain there's a hidden eighth in his Seven Tenants, and that's to keep Commander Zavala on his good side.

It's certainly an outlandish move - Zavala will probably not be thrilled. Eva will take that risk and face the consequences, whatever they are. Waiting on a waitlist for months isn't going to help the issues happening right now. Amanda's well-being is at stake. Eva knows, just from their brief meeting, how fragile she is. It's how these few remaining refugees are, the things they've suffered and seen. Especially the children. They're terribly impressionable.

The Speaker, in his infinite wisdom, steps down from his observatory and bids her good afternoon, as if seeing her decide that action must be taken and trying to find the right method of delivery. He tilts his head to the side. "Is there something on your mind?" He queries.

Eva sighs, looking up into his mask. Her surprised smile melts into a frown. "Well, you see," She admits, just a touch louder than normal, "I've just heard the most terrible thing."

[noradarhkpalmer]

a remedy for your memories

Title: a remedy for your memories

Rating: PG

Pairing: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer aka Darhkatom

Warnings: A lot of angst

Summary/Notes: Nora accidentally runs into Anna Loring on a mission to 2012 and witnesses the happiness between Anna and Ray. This leads her to one painful conclusion: go back to May 2014 and save Anna, no matter the consequences to the timeline or to her own life.

Basically Nora is a giant masochist and this might hurt a lot.

As always thanks to @princesstomaz and @timetravelingpalmer for encouraging my nonsense!

She spent a long time in their room. She knew it would be the last time she would be probably anywhere after she went back. She stared at the pictures of her and Ray that were pinned to a corkboard above their shared desk, tracing her fingers over the look of love on her face. She loved this man with all of her heart, all of her mind, and all of her soul, and that’s why she knew she had to do this. It was the right thing. He would get back years of happiness. Avoid months of pain and anguish. He would be so much better off.

She touched the turquoise necklace at her throat, remembering how she had briefly freaked out thinking it was an engagement ring. She laughed bitterly, glancing down at the engagement ring that glittered on her finger he had given her only two weeks later. She should be planning her own wedding right now but instead she was planning to go back and let Ray marry another. Someone so much better suited for him.

It all started when they went on a mission, back to 2012, Star City. Someone had displaced Queen Elizabeth I as a child into an orphanage. She had gone there, familiar with group homes, asylums, orphanages, and the like, to be able to get the future queen out of there when she met one of the volunteers. She had been kind, amazing with the kids, always going the extra mile, incredibly sweet to Nora, making her feel right at home and not like a newbie. Her badge had said Loring and she had her suspicions at first, and then the woman said her name was Anna and her gut bottomed out. Ray’s late fiancee. Because of course she would be volunteering with orphans.

Nora made herself scarce in case the worst happened, and it had. She had watched as a slightly younger version of her own fiance stepped into the room, gave Anna a kiss, and asked if she was ready to go. Her throat had constricted at the sight. Not out of jealousy, not out of anger, but because she saw how happy Ray was. His whole life was ahead of him. And a future with Anna. Nora Darhk, to him, was just a nine year old girl if he had even heard of her. Not a woman he was now, in her present, wanting to build a life with.

Nora hadn’t said a word about meeting Ray’s late fiancee, even when he asked because he knew Anna had volunteered at the same place. She had lied through her teeth, thankful she could still lie as well as she always could with that much pain coursing through her veins. The night she got back she couldn’t sleep, she thought about all the pain Ray had gone through, all the pain she had caused him. And it all stemmed from losing Anna. Losing her had been his catalyst to becoming the ATOM, which led him to becoming a Legend, which led him to her. But that path had been riddled with pain not just physical, but emotional; he had dated not one, but two women who had left him for another man (that always baffled her because it was Ray, amazing, wonderful Ray).

And here she was, the fourth woman in Ray’s life, the third fiancee, and maybe even his third choice? She knew that Ray loved her but if he had the choice to be with any of his exes, Anna included, would he still choose her? Unlikely.

Now Nora was leaving, to take the jumpship to May 2014 and prevent Anna’s death. She wasn’t sure how she would do it, she needed to let history run its course just enough so that it would still be Oliver that took down Deathstroke, but basically save Anna and Ray and get the hell out of there. Once history cemented she would more than likely be erased from the timeline but she didn’t care. Without Ray becoming the ATOM, he wouldn’t be a Legend, and there wouldn’t be anyone to take her father back to trade places with her in Zambesi as Mallus’s vessel. She knew she was sacrificing herself for good, so maybe that would make up for what she would do when the timeline changed.

She looked back down at her engagement ring, played with it, and eventually slid it off, placing it on Ray’s nightstand. Once history cemented, he wouldn’t be needing it anyways and neither would she.

Nora was on her way to the jumpship when she heard familiar heavy footsteps behind her. Ray. She tried to ignore it but the steps increased in pace until they finally got close enough for whoever they belong to, to gently grab her arm. Nora stopped, took in a deep breath, and turned around to face Ray.

“Where are you going?” He asked. “I was just coming back to the room to ask if you wanted Chinese for dinner and I found this on my nightstand.” He held up her engagement ring and Nora’s throat tightened.

“Ray…”

“Nora… did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I had, please, tell me and we work through this. I don’t want to lose you.”

But that was exactly what he was about to do, even if in the new timeline he’d never know it. Nora gently pulled her arm away from his grasp and took in a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything, Ray… I…” She looked in his eyes, the kind, chocolate brown, puppy dog eyes that always seemed to brighten her day. The ones that always had love for her in them. The ones that she always pictured on an adorable baby when she thought about their future children. Those eyes that deserved to look at Anna again. And she knew in that moment she couldn’t lie to him. She might be able to pull off a convincing excuse for why she was leaving, but she knew she just couldn’t lie to him anymore.

“Do you really want to know why I’m leaving?”

Ray, close to tears now. “Yes.”

Nora closed her eyes, willing herself to just tell him the truth. “I lied when I said I hadn’t met Anna. I not only met but I saw you with her when I went back… I… saw how good you guys were together. I saw how in love with her that you were and I just couldn’t handle it. You deserve to be that happy, Ray. And it’s not going to be with me. I know that. Anna was perfect for you. And I’m going to make sure that you can have the life you always dreamed with her.” “Nora… no… what? You can’t…”

She shook her head. “Don’t tell me all the reasons why I shouldn’t, Ray, none of them matter. There may be more reasons why I shouldn’t but I know that the one reason why I should matters the most. And it’s your happiness.”

“I’m happy with you! I want to marry you!” Ray stepped towards her but Nora took a step back.

Nora held up her hands, she feared if she let him touch her again she wouldn’t go through with it.

“Please, let me do this. You won’t even remember me but you’ll instead have wonderful memories of being with Anna, marrying her, and all the kids you’ll have. When we got together I should’ve realized that my place in your life was just a result of you making happiness out of some really crappy situations. This way all of that goes away and you can have true happiness.”

“How can be so sure?”

“Don’t know unless we try, right?” She shrugged and smiled sadly at him.

Ray shook his head. “No, if you try, you’ll erase yourself from the timeline. You dad won’t take your place and you’ll die, Nora. There’s not a timeline I can bare to be in where you’re dead. It’s why I took your dad back. I didn’t realize he’d sacrifice himself for you. I thought I’d be walking onto that jumpship with the both of you. But if I’m not there to do that, he doesn’t go back at all. And you die.”

“And if I go back and do this, Anna won’t. I promise this is for the better, Ray. The Legends have tried to warn me that it could be really bad but I can’t seem to figure out why a timeline where you have the happiness you’ve always been meant to have could be catastrophic to the rest of reality.” She finally inched closed to him, wanting to say goodbye one last time. “Let me do this, please.” She reached up and cupped his face, kissing him softly. “I love you, and that’s why I’m doing this.”

“Nora… this is my life you’re messing with, my life, and messing with it in a way I didn’t ask you to. I can’t imagine my life happier than it is when I’m with you. Please don’t do this.”

Nora considered his words for a minute. She let him pull her in close and she cried quietly against him. They cried together. She didn’t want to erase herself, she wanted to stay here and be happy with Ray but she knew that Ray would be happier with someone else.

“But… Anna, wouldn’t you do anything to get her back if you had the chance? This is your chance, Ray!”

“Not at the cost of your life. Anna was my past and made me who I am today. Made me someone who was worthy and ready to love you. You’re not second best to her or anyone else I’ve been with. I didn’t just make do with my circumstances, I chose you and I will choose you over and over again, Nora. I asked you to marry me because I want you to be my future as well as my present. So I don’t want you to change my past.”

Nora lifted her head up and swallowed hard. “I… I just want you to be happy…”

“I am with you.” He presents her engagement ring again. “Now will you please put this back on and abandon this masochistic plan of yours?”

Nora, now crying, looked at him through teary ears. “I’m really your first choice?”

“You’re my first choice, always.” He kissed her forehead. “And soon you’ll be my wife.” He smiled and she held out her left hand. He slid the ring back to its rightful place and kissed her knuckles.

Nora wrapped her arms around him and held him close and then let him lead her back to their room.