#smarts and crafts will always be in my heart

[purplepixel]

Rise Mikey and Donnie + 6 Protective

:}

#6 Protective: Mikey and Donnie

FOR YOU MY DEAR CLAIRE :]

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts

Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.

So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.

Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).

Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).

And some additional things:

Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.

Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.

They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.

Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.

Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.

Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.

They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.

Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other

If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic

[imarvelatthestars]

Built to Fall

a submission for the 2024 clone bingo event hosted by @karttaylir-darasuum , as well as the bad batch @cloneficgiftexchange - my gift to @221bshrlocked !!!

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Content: tbb s3 happy-ish ending AU (our s2 survivors + Crosshair live happily ever after on Pabu), mutual pining, some angst; title inspired by "Mind Over Matter" by Young the Giant

“You’re getting better. You might end up better than me one day.”

Omega’s nose crinkles playfully. “I’m not sure Tech would call that a good use of my skillset.”

“Well, Tech’s not here. Arts and crafts are way more fun than ship schematics anyway.”

“You’ve got that right,” she says, and you think she sounds just like her brothers.

She’s a smart kid, probably the smartest kid you’ve ever met, so she catches on to new things fast. Her fingers are agile and quick, and her mind is always running. How she hasn’t outsmarted the entire island by now is a mystery to you.

Today’s lesson, if you can call spending time with the sweetest and funniest soul in the galaxy a lesson, is learning how to string kukui nuts and shells into a necklace. There are plenty others who have mastered this art, who craft elegant strands of nuts and shells that look more like art than mere jewelry, and Omega is definitely better at it than you are, but it makes you smile, gives you something to do when your hands are restless and your mind is prone to wonder. And it helps that you can barter with your nicer pieces.

The waves roll gently up and down the shore, bubbling over the rocks and soaking the sand that’s crumpled up by your feet. There aren’t many seashells left, which means you’ll have to go hunting for more soon. You’re just about to suggest it when an embarrassingly loud grumble comes from deep in your belly. You freeze; Omega’s bright, attentive eyes flicker to you, and you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

That’s how he finds you – lounging in the sand, your leggings rolled up to your knees, and cackling like a goblin.

“Having fun?”

Hunter’s shadow falls lengthwise over you. He’s placed his hands on his hips in a poor imitation of a scolding father, but his faux seriousness is entirely marred by the smile he doesn’t bother to hide.

Omega grins. “More fun than you are!”

“Now that I believe.” He steps around you so he can crouch in the space between you both and your heart very much doesn’t jump at the new proximity. Definitely not. “What’s all this?”

“We’re making necklaces. See?” Her latest creation is promptly displayed on her splayed fingers.

He takes a moment to study it. The shells are tiny already, but they’re even smaller in his hand, dwarfed by the length and breadth of his thumb and forefinger. You’re not sure why you notice that out of everything. It’s a silly thing to notice.

“You did this all on your own?” he marvels.

“Well...” Omega looks to you with a hint of shyness. “I had a little help.”

She's far too modest. “Very little,” you correct. “I just showed her how.” One of your baskets is quickly exchanged for Omega’s necklace, much to Hunter’s surprise. It is, after all, half full of stranded shells and nuts. “She’s a natural.”

Hunter’s brows shoot so high up his face until you’re half afraid they’ll jump right off. He looks to Omega, then you, then back to her. “You made all of these?”

For a moment it seems she’s not sure how to respond. She scratches awkwardly at the back of her neck for a bit, hesitant, even flustered, before finally nodding. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

“Omega,” her brother sighs, and it’s all tender and proud, the way a father should be. Something warm alights in your heart at the sight. “These are wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiles, and so does she, and that secret desire you pretend not to have, the one that delights at his nearness and the gentle affection he bestows so generously to his siblings, the softness hiding beneath his battle-hardened exterior, explodes inside your chest like a blossom finally unfurling.

“I hate to pull you away,” he continues after a moment, “but it’s time to eat.”

Omega groans but doesn’t protest beyond that. She’s quick on her feet, gathering up her things and haphazardly dropping them into the basket she then perches on her hip. You, on the other hand, are a bit slower than that. Pabu works many miracles, but it doesn’t make you any younger or faster, no matter how refreshing the sea air may be. Your own basket of seashells and kukui is organized and fastened shut, then your shoes gathered in your hand, and then – and then you find Hunter’s hand extended to you.

You brush off your shock as quickly as you can, hoping it doesn’t linger, that it isn’t noticeable, and take the offer with a smile that matches his own. The contact is brief, far too short for your liking, but it quickens your pulse enough that you fear your heart will catapult from the cavity of your chest all because he looked at you, touched you, and it’s all you ever dream of.

His fingerprints still burn into your skin long after his hands have withdrawn. You almost wish they would scar if only to have a physical reminder of him when he’s gone.

“Thanks.”

He nods, and the sun shines golden on his face. There’s a wordless moment where he extends his hand to you again and you think he’ll take hold of you a second time, guide you off the beach like that, and you’re not even sure you’ll survive such a thing, but then you realize he’s asking for your basket. And you’re disappointed, but so, so relieved.

“That’s okay, I got i-”

His fingers curl around the basket handle, gentle but firm. There’s no room for discussion, not as he tugs it free and settles it under his own arm, not as he tells you in everything but words that he will carry this thing for you, he will carry anything you need, anything you want, and you never need to ask. You only wish that he would do it because he cares.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know.”

Hunter’s brow furrows, but you blink and it’s gone. “I know,” he says.

The walk from the beach to Shep’s house is relatively short, but it always flies by when you walk it with him. Perhaps because he makes you feel safe, secure, because he makes you smile when no one else can. Perhaps because you never want these moments to end. Perhaps because, if you’re really honest with yourself, you know that he fills the part of your heart that longs for more, no matter how uncertain you are if he would ever allow himself such a thing.

Dinner at Shep’s is never a simple affair, but it’s always happy. Good food, pleasant chatter, the sound of Omega, Wrecker, and Lyana’s laughter, Phee’s gently barbed remarks and Crosshair’s witty retorts, Batcher barking and huffing between gulps of food, and even the more serious conversations shared between Hunter and Shep tend to be more comforting than not. It’s home, plain and simple. It was never meant to be, not for you, but somehow… somehow that’s exactly what it’s become. He doesn’t know, at least you don’t think he does, but none of it would’ve happened without him, without that too-good heart of his beating fast and strong below his bones, that heart you wish you could call your own one day.

Funny how easy it is to be foolish, isn’t it?

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Shep’s followed you to the balcony where you’ve chosen to watch the last remnants of the sunset as the colors bleed into the clouds and the dark, stormy shroud of night begins to fall.

You tilt your head back, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of the starts through the clouds. “Sorry. Just had something on my mind, I guess.”

He nods, as if he understands, and you truly think he does. He’s a wise sort of man, kind and smart in a way that only experience can provide. “You know you can always speak your mind.” His forearms find the lip of the balcony the same way yours have. “If something’s bothering you-”

“It’s not you, Shep.” You don’t dare say what it is, but you almost wonder if he knows. “I have a little too much to think about sometimes, y’know?”

“I do,” he says, and he nods again. You think he’s about to say something else, but he’s stopped by the weight of a hand upon his elbow, the gentle intrusion of Hunter’s presence as he steps into the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He gestures to the expanse of clouds as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. Though for him, you suppose it is. “We’ve got bad weather incoming. Probably best for everyone to head home now.”

Shep agrees, and the others are quick to hurry back to their own hovels or to the Marauder, but Hunter walks you home. You both know he doesn’t need to. And, you think, you both know he’s only doing this because he feels duty-bound. It hurts, but you revel in his company all the same, just for these few moments.

“I should go,” he says once you’re both inside, dripping the beginnings of the storm onto the stone floor, but he seems loathe to admit it.

You both spare a glance out the window. The rain’s already coming down harder than it was just a minute ago. It’s pattering hard atop the roof and there’s enough force behind it that you’re almost afraid it’ll blow your windchimes clean off.

“Hunter, you’ll get soaked. At least stay until it’s eased up a bit.”

That’s the least you can do, isn’t it? After everything?

But rather than immediately accept the offer, Hunter grimaces. His entire body stills and starts to shift away from you, not a lot, not even in a way that might be noticeable to anyone else, but you know him, his tells, all the subtle ways his body responds to the world around him. You recognize immediately that he’s uncomfortable and that knowledge hits you right in the gut, sharper than a vibroblade.

He shakes his head, politely. “No, I, I should go. I’ll be fine.”

It’s the fact that he refuses to even look at you that does you in.

And you know you should let it pass. Really, you do. Take the blow and roll with the remaining punches the way he and his brothers do, but you’re not strong like they are, and your heart is so much more fragile than theirs.

You sigh. “Why d’you have to be like this?”

Impossibly dark eyes flicker in the muted lighting, landing somewhere near yours. “What?”

“If you don’t like me, Hunter, just say it. You don’t have to pretend, okay? That just makes it worse.”

His tattoo crinkles as his face shifts, each line of inkwork rippling until he’s frowning at you so intently that the weight of it feels enough to crush you. Then his head tilts and the coils of his hair fall over his eyes, and he’s so beautiful that you think you might cry.

“What are you talking about?”

Maker, is he really gonna make you say it?

A brief turn of your shoulder gives you the spare moments you need to compose yourself, and as you survey the tiny hovel you’ve turned into a home, you find yourself thinking again of that last night on Ord Mantell. The night you realized Tech was dead and Omega was gone, and you knew your life would never be the same again…

It’s a goddamn Imperial fleet. You’ve never seen so many ships at once before. They crowd the sky, faintly and briefly illuminated by streaks of lightning and the few pricks of light coming from the city as they descend. You don’t know why they’re here, but you don’t really need to. You know there’s only one thing on Ord Mantell precious enough to draw the Empire out here and it’s not any one of the petty criminals or their shady deals passed under the table and off the books.

If you had any of their comm channels, you’d be satisfied with asking if everything’s alright, if they need a place to stay. But you don’t. Instead, you run. It was a boring night off anyway.

The bar is trashed when you get there. Tables overturned, blaster marks scorched into the walls. Cid’s nowhere to be found and neither are the clones, and it leaves a terrible, sinking feeling in your gut. None of this is right.

Stumbling back outside, you see a handful of Imperial ships lifting off, one already shooting for the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Whatever they’d come for, they’d clearly found it, and Maker, you prayed it wasn’t any of them. Anyone, anything but them.

You come stumbling into the landing zone just as the boys come through the far end, already approaching their ship. Your throat is raw and your entire body hurts from being pushed far beyond its usual limit.

“What, what happened?” you gasp between desperate mouthfuls of air, hands clutching your knees as you double over. “The Empire-”

It’s then that Hunter comes swooping into your personal space, so close that he takes up every inch of it, totally filling your vision until the shadow of his tattoo and the dark glinting of his eyes is all you can see. There’s no time for your stomach to flip or your face to flush hot. There’s only time enough for him to grab you and push until your back hits solid durasteel. It’s cold, sharp, violent where it digs into your back, but no colder than the quiet rage you see carved into Hunter’s face now.

“You sold us out.”

You’re too confused to be offended. “What?”

His forearm finds your throat and presses until you’re properly pinned between him and whatever unyielding thing he’s backed you into, and when you look up at him, you find that you’re afraid of him for the first time in your life. He looks murderous.

“Hunt- Hunter! What are you talking abo-?”

“They took her.” He's clearly furious, but there’s a deceptive calm about him that rattles you to your bones. It’s not the calm and quiet demeanor of a battle-hardened soldier, but the cool and distant resolve of a man on the edge of desperation. “Because of your boss. Care t’ tell me why?”

You struggle to look over his shoulder to the others behind him. None of them have come to your aid, though Echo looks like he’s about to. And Wrecker... What the hell happened to put him in a neck brace? You look back to Hunter, seeking his face for something you’re not even sure you know how to name, only to find his body wrapped in bandages and his face bruised. Something’s not right, something more than just the Empire.

They took her. Took… who?

You glance at the others again. Wait. Where’s Tech? Where’s Omega?

His words pierce through your heart when they cycle round your head again.

They took her.

No.

Your boss.

She wouldn’t. She... she couldn’t. To them, maybe, but to Omega?

“Hunter,” you croak with a voice that cracks under the weight of your horror, “where’s Omega?”

Nostrils flaring, he presses harder into you until you actually choke, his teeth bared and gritted, flashing white against his skin. It’s the most monstrous you’ve ever seen him. “You tell me.”

You’ll kill her. If he lets you live, you’ll march yourself down to the parlor and kill Cid yourself. Doesn’t matter that you’ve never flared beyond the supernova of a rookie punch, you’ll level a blaster at her head. That is, if Hunter permits you to live past the next few minutes. You’re honestly not sure if he will. But then, if you’d kill for Omega, you don’t think you want to know what kinds of atrocities her brother would commit. Perhaps you’ll learn firsthand.

Echo stops him, but he cuts it concerningly close. Air rushes through your lungs so quickly that it hurts, and you find yourself wilting until your legs give out.

His voice wrapping around the syllables of your name is enough to bring you back to the present, to the cold, dismal reality of the disaster of a relationship your friendship has become. You look to the hand at your wrist, the long, calloused fingers and the scars that crisscross his knuckles, the swirling tattoos atop his bones that disappear beneath the cuff of his sleeve, then up to his shoulder, his chin, the flared base of his nose, and then to his eyes. You swear you dream of them every night.

“What is it?” he asks in that deep, rumbling timbre of his.

You’re so heartbroken that all you can do is smile. “What do you think?” Flashes of an offered hand, the lifting of a basket, the quirk of a smile when you crack a joke or the lifting of a brow when you manage to surprise him, the lingering of his gaze when the nights draw dark and your mind is dulled with sleep – they all filter through your thoughts in a single instant. “You don’t have to keep making it up to me. What happened on Ord Mantell is done, Hunter. I just…” You shouldn’t say it, you should keep it buried deep inside your heart and let the wound fester until you burst, but now that you’ve started you find you can’t stop. “I just wish you’d stop killing yourself trying to earn my forgiveness when I gave it to you a long time ago. Especially when I know you hate me.”

The storm rages on while you fall into silence. The wind whips and whistles against the windows, the rain pummels the ground, and all the while you wait for Hunter to finally admit what you’ve known to be true for the past year.

Instead, he loosens his grip until his hand falls away and you hear, rather than see, the dropping of his shoulders in the way he sounds utterly wrecked when he mutters, “Is that what you think?”

Your breath stalls in your chest. “Isn’t it true?”

“No,” he says too quickly. Like he’s lying, like he’s trying to cover his tracks.

“Hunter-”

“You really think that?”

“Fuck, of course I do!” You turn on him and gesture to the awkward, uncertain tilt of his body as if it were the most offensive sight you’d ever seen. “Look at you, you don’t even want to be near me! You act like I burn you half the time we touch. What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

If ever you’ve seen Hunter wish he could crawl into his skin and die, now would be it. All it does is further affirm what you’ve long suspected, and it kills you, the same way it’s been killing him to re-earn your favor. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like you’re not head over heels in love with him, despite how much he hates you, despite knowing he might have killed you once not so long ago. Despite everything, you love him. And he will never love you back.

You storm to the door and slap your hand against the controls. It hisses open as the sharp winds of the storm come bursting in. Half the house seems ready to blow away, but you don’t care.

“Get out.” Even though it’s the exact opposite of what you want. “Now.”

And because he hates you, he acquiesces. Head bowed low and his eyes cast to the floor, Hunter steps outside without so much as a farewell, and he takes your heart with him.

You’re not sure how much time passes between then and now. It could be a whole hour, or a few seconds of your heartbeat thundering inside your ears. Does it matter?

“I wish I’d never met you.” He’s almost certainly gone by now, but you find yourself wishing that he could hear you. You want him to hurt as much as you do now. “I wish I’d never fallen for your stupid face.” You rub the back of your hand over your eyes and nose, and it comes back wet with your grief. “Wish I’d never gone to Ord Mantell, and I wish I’d never fucking met you, and I wish, I wish…”

Say it, says the little voice in the back of your head. You’re too tired now to fight it.

“I wish I could’ve loved anyone but you.”

No one responds. There are no frantic confessions of mutual feelings, no gentle knocking at your door. Not that you’d expected there to be, but a part of you had hoped. No, Hunter’s gone and you’ve made a fool of yourself for no reason at all. You dread to think what tomorrow will bring in this storm’s wake, how the chaos will have torn your new home into tatters, how Hunter will watch you with the same distant, burning eyes that break your heart and stitch it back together all at once, how the island will feel as foreign as it did the night you first arrived. You’ve already started mourning the daily gathering’s at Shep’s, the way Wrecker makes you laugh and Phee tells her stories, and Hunter loves Omega like the daughter she almost is, and now it’s all gone, forever, and maybe, just maybe, you were lost to the depths of your heart that very first day that the Marauder touched down on Ord Mantell and the squad came into Cid’s. Maybe you were never meant for finer things like requited love and a place to belong to.

It’s this endless spiral of illogical conclusions and shattered dreams that Hunter returns to. You never hear the door open, nor the worsening of the storm, but you do hear the soft squeak of his boots on stone, the gently trembling exhale of his breath as he squats beside you. You turn as he comes to you, your face damp and snotty, and it’s embarrassing, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he takes your face in his hand like he was made to do it? His headband is soaked and his hair is dripping wet, the tight coils of his bangs now plastered to his skin.

“Don’t cry.”

You only cry harder, but this time Hunter pulls you to him. You let him. He’s soaked, just like you said he would be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with your head tucked beneath his chin and your shoulders shaking under his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

 “You left,” you sniffle.

One of his hands finds your neck. It’s cold, but the touch sparks tendrils of warmth down to your toes. This way, your head is tilted back and his is inclined toward you, almost as if…

“You asked me to.” His breath fans across your face, down your throat, dipping low like the path his eyes take as he assesses you. “I don’t hate you. I never have.”

You could fight him on it. You could, but you can’t find the words. You can’t find any words. You don’t know what to say. Kriff, you can barely think right now with the way he’s holding you, watching you, how completely he fills every one of your senses.

“I don’t… know how to do this. I’ve already hurt you before, I don’t- I can’t do that again.”

There’s a hesitancy there, though. You see it in his eyes, in the set of his bones, somehow managing to pull away from you while still staying so deeply entwined with you. He’s unsure all over again, perhaps even as unsure as you are.

“Hunter…” Your hand finds his face, unbidden but perfect all the same, and he leans into you. “I already forgave you. You don’t have to-”

“I heard you.”

He… Huh?

Frowning, you start to pull away as you blink through the confusion and the watery film along the bottom of your eyes. “What?”

He tightens his arms about you to draw you closer and while your pulse skyrockets, you’re not sure if it’s because you’re terrified that he’s so close or panicking because he’s just close enough. You can smell him, now – the faint tones of sweat and sea salt and the wine from dinner – and you swear it’s enough to capsize you. Hunter lowers his gaze, then his face, so, so close to yours that he’s the only thing you see. And you think, you hope, he’ll kiss you, but you’re afraid of what might happen if he does.

“I heard you,” he says again, softer this time. His brows have pressed together above his nose as he focuses upon the spot just below your own. “Cyare… All this time, I thought I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t know.” His nose bumps yours. “Cyare,” and you hope one day he tells you what it means, “can I?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. You only have to nod. “Yes,” you murmur, and that’s when he kisses you.

It’s a cautious thing, so hesitant and timid, but Maker it’s beautiful. Even if this is all he ever gives you, it would be enough to know that he tried, that you learned his taste and his touch when it felt like the world was crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” he says before trying again, more frantic, more eager as his mouth presses into yours.

“I forgive you,” you promise before burying your hands in his hair.

The next few moments are a flurry of adrenaline and kisses peppered on skin, the rustling of fabric and the creaking of the sofa when it takes your combined weight. Hunter seems to have found his confidence along the way, and you’ve found your courage, and it ends with his teeth at your lips, and your tongue at his throat, and confessions pouring from you the more he gives and the longer he takes.

“I couldn’t, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He nips at your jaw. “It’s always been you, Hunter. Always.” He kisses your cheek, then your brow, then the corner of your mouth, hands trailing across your hips and arms as he goes. “I love you. I’m sorry for everything, I just love you so mu-”

His kisses steal the tail end of your confession, drawing into his mouth to mingle with his own until you swear the two of you become one.

“’s alright, mesh’la, ‘s alright. I know.” The bump in his nose is a caress against your cheek as he nuzzles into you. “I feel the same.”

It’s not perfect, this thing between you, and it isn’t easy, but it was always worth fighting for. You were always meant to fall for Hunter, and he was always meant to fall for you. You hope you never stop falling. And he swears never to stop catching you.

prompt(s)/inspiration: “You’re always on my mind.” | “Why can’t you see that it’ll always be you?” + jewelry

taglist: @moodymisty @the-rain-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @kaminocasey @arandomnerdsblog578

[deconstructthesoup]

I've seen some good ones floating around, so here's my take on a Fantasy High Swap Class AU:

Adaine: She's a College of Creation bard, something that stemmed from needing something to keep herself sane growing up in the Abernant home. She channeled her studies of the cosmos and magic into songs, and she actually managed to pass herself off as a Conjuration wizard... until she got found out and sent to Aguefort. Luckily, it's the perfect place for her to hone her craft, and she winds up becoming an incredibly well-known songwriter---more on the indie folk side of things than punk rock, but still. (And she does also become the Elven Oracle, if only by accident.)

Kristen: She starts out as a Zealot barbarian under the Church of Helio, but it doesn't take long for her faith to waver, and she eventually falls into the unpredictability and beautiful chaos of the Path of Wild Magic---and eventually multiclasses into an Oath of the Ancients paladin, inspired by claiming Cassandra as a deity. She's got a lot of righteous fury and craziness at her disposal, and she's never gonna back down from a fight.

Fig: While still keeping her rebellious attitude, she decided to still accept the girly side of herself when her horns grew in and be more pastel-punk (kinda like K Tanaka), and she embraced her devil side by becoming a Trickster Domain cleric---specifically, a cleric of Asmodeus. She's still a lover of disguises, a shameless flirt, and has a shaky relationship with the truth, but it's cranked up to eleven due to her serving a deity of all that. She does eventually multiclass into being an Alchemist artificer, which is... just as chaotic as you might expect.

Riz: He's still a detective at heart, of course, but he winds up using his smarts and sneakery to become a School of Illusion wizard. This actually makes him perfectly suited to being the guy who's always trying to figure out the truth, even if his disguise habit is almost as bad as Fig's sometimes, and he takes on his secret-agent style way earlier than in canon. He's not strictly lawful---he's a big fan of finding out loopholes---but he's definitely the team's designated "smart guy."

Gorgug: His subclass was the hardest to figure out, but I decided he would be good as a Cavalier fighter---his martial prowess is still focused on helping and supporting his friends, regardless of whether it's through rage or skill. Eventually, though, he gets inspired by Adaine's creative ways of using magic and multiclasses into a College of Valor bard. And yes, he uses these skills in part to become a band member of hers. Fig is also part of the band.

Fabian: And last but not least, our Fabian got inspired by both Cathilda and a much more sober Hallariel to become a Swashbuckler rogue. His story is kind of an inverse of canon, with him learning from his mother and mother figure more than his father---partly due to the fact that Bill died before canon in this---and gaining a lot more pride from that (and yeah, that includes him introducing himself as "Fabian Seacaster, son of Hallariel Seacaster, the greatest swordfighter who's ever lived!"). But after his Bad Day, he realizes that there's worth in appreciating what his father has to offer, and he becomes a Fiend warlock of Old Bill---Pact of the Chain, of course, so the Hangman can be his familiar.

So, uh... yeah!

[tkaulitzlvr]

I request more Tom angst (sorry if your getting tired of them ^^) Tom finds out that the girl he really likes has a crush on Bill. Maybe no happy ending?

UNREQUITED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom finally builds up the courage to tell you how he feels after years of being silently in love with you, only to find out your heart is waiting for somebody else.

content: angst

a/n: i will neverrrr get tired of angst omg, i never normally write bad endings they make me too sad, and i never write from tom’s point of view so i hope this is okay since it’s like my first time doing it, hope you enjoy!!

she was perfect. every single thing about her, from her deep blue eyes, big and inviting, to her long brunette hair, sweeping downwards to her lower back, somehow always managing to make it look flawless. her lips, plump and pink, always coated with the same lipgloss, my mind wanting to do nothing more than kiss them, feel them against mine. her body, crafted by god himself, complimenting her with the most perfect curves, every single part of her almost too faultless to be real. her beauty was mesmerising, literally leaving me breathless, ever since i first saw her. even when she swore she looked a mess - to me, she was the most beautiful girl i had ever laid eyes on.

it wasn’t just her physical appearance that i had fallen in love with. her personality enticed me more and more each day. she was kind, with one of the best sense of humours that i had ever witnessed, the two of us often sitting for hours together, laughing at things that other people might find dumb, but any words that left her mouth were like music to me, the most carefully crafted melody to ever grace my ears. her smile, able to make me feel completely content, no matter how shitty i had felt before, because she could make me forget it all, making it something of the past, like my sadness was never there in the first place. she was selfless, willing to do whatever it took for the people she loved. and she did love me, just not in the same way that i loved her.

at first, i tried to get over her, not even daring to confess the way i felt, completely afraid of ruining what we already had, because being friends with her, even if it meant that i tortured myself doing so, was a million times better than throwing away what we had for the sake of my own feelings, which i knew could never be reciprocated, not even wasting my breath by asking her. she was out of my league, deserving of somebody way better than me, someone who could give her the attention she was worthy of.

it was different before i became famous. i could spend as much time with her as i wanted. but now, i was constantly touring, and i would go weeks without seeing her, understanding that a relationship just wouldn’t be right. so i kept my feelings to myself, hoping that they would fade if i slept with other girls, taking my mind off of her. but they didn’t. they only worsened my feelings as i would close my eyes, imagining that the girl i was with was her, knowing that it would be the closest i could ever get to being her’s. and it killed me, knowing that i loved her, and i could never bring her to love me back. so many girls fell at my feet, unbeknownst to the fact that i had my heart in somebody else’s hands - they were just too oblivious to realise it. i was convinced that i would feel this way forever, despite me being only thirteen when we first met, i knew that i wouldn’t be able to love somebody the way that i loved her.

and i was right. now, six years later, my heart still throbs at the sight of her, wishing that i could call her mine. though our friendship is stronger than ever, it isn’t enough for me anymore. we have grown up, young adults now. i have grown much taller, losing my light brown dreadlocks, replacing them with jet black braids. and she has grown, but in different ways. she has matured, turning into a smart and beautiful woman. yet the way i felt towards her hasn’t changed - not in the slightest. for the first time ever, confessing my feelings is crossing my mind, my heart running ahead of my conscience and telling me that i should.

“i think she likes you.” bill shrugs, his body spread across the couch in the living room of our hotel room. we were on tour, having one more show to perform the next day in italy before we would return back home - this being the first time i would see her in over a month.

“really?” i ask, shocked at his answer and how casually he says it, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“mhm.” he begins, shoving another candy in his mouth, chewing and swallowing it before continuing. “i mean, she’s the closest with you out of the four of us. you guys are inseparable, you have been since we were what, fourteen?”

“yeah but, she’s never given me a reason to believe she likes me more than a friend. after all these years, absolutely nothing. it’s driving me insane!” i sigh, grabbing the pillow next to me and digging my face into it, annoyed at how calmly bill is speaking about the whole thing.

“then tell her! you can’t expect her to be psychic, i didn’t even know you had liked her for this long until you told me. you don’t really make it obvious.” he laughs, shaking his head as i blush slightly. “i can’t believe my brother is in love!”

“fuck off, this is serious!” i groan, throwing the pillow at him as he laughs even harder. “what if she doesn’t like me back, and i ruin our friendship? i’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

“tom literally every girl on the planet likes you. i don’t think she’s any different, especially ‘cause she actually knows you, the real you, not just the version the tabloids see.” he says, becoming a little more serious now. “you need to stop being such a pussy and tell her, before it’s too late.”

“you’re right.” i nod, the decision finally being made, my mind willing to risk what we already have, unable to hide it anymore.

“i always am.” bill shrugs, smirking when i roll my eyes at him.

“so then loverboy, how was your tour? how many girls did you fuck this time, hm? can i count it on both hands or does that not even cover like, half of it?” she laughs, her body sprawled out on her bed as i sit in her desk chair, spinning around on it slowly, a cheesy grin appearing on my face.

“i’m not that bad!” i defend, shaking my head. “i do other things beside hook up with girls you know.”

“mhm, sure you do, i’m sure hot famous rockstars have way more hobbies.” she smiles, another laugh erupting from her mouth.

my eyes study her features, getting lost in them immediately. her hair is sprawled around her on the bed, still soft and perfectly styled, the ends curled slightly. her skin is smooth, a single mole on her upper cheek, another small one above her lip. her eyes are half open, showing a part of the beautiful ocean blue within them that i had fallen in love with. her lips are curved upwards into a smile, two dimples forming on her cheeks, this one of the first things i ever noticed about her.

“tom? tommm?”

i am snapped from my trance as she waves her hand in my face, laughing at the way i blink rapidly, my cheeks flushing red as i realise that she has caught me staring at her.

“you good? i thought i’d lost you there for a second.” she jokes, now laid on her front, her legs bent upwards as her thighs are in the air, head resting in her hands which are now propped up on the bed.

she awaits my response and, my heart moving ahead of my mind, i blurt something out before i can take it back. “can i talk to you?”

my question comes out more uncertain than i had anticipated, the room falling silent as her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“why did you get so serious all of a sudden? did someone die or something? did you get some girl pregnant? i told you to use protection.” she laughs, her smile slowly fading as she sees that i am not laughing with her. “tom, what’s up, you’re scaring me.”

she sits up on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs and scanning my expression.

“no! no nothing like that.” i force a smile, easing her nerves. yet i am unable to make eye contact with her, looking towards the ground as i fiddle with the material of my t-shirt.

“then what’s up with you?” she asks, becoming increasingly concerned.

the words are stuck in my throat, holding me back as my mouth becomes dry, unable to spit out the three simple words. my mouth hangs open, no noise escaping from it. she stands up, walking closer to me and putting a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, but it only worsens my nerves.

“seriously, is everything okay? i don’t wanna go all soppy on you, you know i hate that shit, but you can talk to me, you know that.” she says, stepping backwards a little and folding her arms.

“i like you.” i finally blurt out, looking upwards as her eyes widen, shock taking over her entire expression.

“what?” is all that she can muster, her eyes frantically scanning mine for any hint that this is another prank of mine.

“i’m in love with you. i have been since we were thirteen.” i confess, mumbling the last part and looking back downwards, unable to look at her face any longer, my stomach sinking as she stays silent.

the silence is louder than ever, tension so thick that it is almost visible, none of us daring to say anything as my mind is working overtime, wondering what the fuck i was thinking, my gut always telling me that she had never felt the same way. part of me wants to blame bill for convincing me to tell her, but the other part, the more irrational side, tells me that that would be stupid, none of this bill’s fault no matter how hard i search for someone else to blame.

“tom i-” she begins as i look upwards, her eyes glossy with tears, a couple beginning to roll down her cheeks. “fuck, i didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“tell me what?” i ask, panicking even more than i had been before, somehow fearing that her rejecting me isn’t even going to be the worst part.

“before i say this, i just- shit. i just wanna say that im so sorry, and i never ever wanted to hurt you. you’re my best friend and i-”

“what are you talking about?” i mutter, my own eyes welling up slowly.

“i like somebody else.”

those four words crash down on me, hitting me with more force than a bus would, the pain far worse, impact far heavier as my breath gets stuck in my throat, feeling as if my heart has been ripped out of my chest. i can no longer stop the tears as they cascade down my face, with her now sobbing as she realises how much she has hurt me, wether she meant to or not.

“who?” i manage to say, looking into her eyes. the answer would only hurt me more, but i wanted to know the truth, maybe it would help me get over her, or maybe that was the denial within me talking.

i wish i had never asked.

“tom you don’t need to know that, i’ve caused you enough upset-”

“just tell me.” i interrupt, feeling numb to the pain suddenly, wanting to get the answer out of the way. my face is emotionless, the only giveaway of my heartache being the tears which silently fall from my bloodshot eyes.

she pauses, pursing her lips together as the tears continue to fall, breaking eye contact for the first time, looking downwards, a look of guilt washing over her face, not even needing to look into her eyes to see it. the way she refuses to look at me gives me the silent giveaway that i should have just stayed curious.

“bill.”

my lips part, mouth dropping open as i pray that i had misheard her, that my ears had deceived me, and that i didn’t just hear her confess that she likes my brother, not me.

“tom please i’m so so sorry. i don’t wanna lose what we already have-” she begins, but i shake my head, staying silent and quickly exiting the room, running down the stairs as she calls after me. i ignore her pleas, opening her front door and slamming it shut, rushing to my car and hitting the wheel harshly, resting my head against it and beginning to sob, feeling like a complete idiot for confessing, knowing that i was way too delusional to ever think i had a chance.

now, i can take my anger out on bill, feeling such an inexplicable rage towards him, blaming him for this entire thing, the way he humiliated me, made me think i have a chance. in that moment, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he already knew she wanted him, not me, using it as a way to spite me even more. my eyes are blurry, tears blocking part of my vision as i turn my keys into the ignition, taking one last look at her house and driving away.

“how did it go? did she feel the same way?” bill says once i enter our house, quickly rushing over to me, stopping in his tracks once he sees my face, red and filled with rage, my eyes bloodshot, hands balled into fists.

“fuck off. you knew that she liked you, didn’t you, hm? you wanted to see me get fucking humiliated, you selfish piece of shit!” i shout, repeatedly pushing him, using more strength each time my hands collide with his chest, his back hitting the wall with a thud.

“can you calm down! what are you even saying?” bill shouts over me, grabbing both of my arms and holding me back as i desperately scramble to hit him harder, wanting to show him the pain he has caused me, knowing that no matter how violent i get, his wounds won’t even scratch the surface of my broken heart.

“she fucking likes you, now just fuck off and leave me alone.” i mutter, my chest heaving up and down as i back away, storming towards my bedroom and ignoring his confused shouts behind me, slamming the door with a thud. i collapse onto my bed, unable to hold back the sobs as i realise that i have lost her, no one left to blame as i have taken all my frustration out on bill, completely despising him, knowing that i will envy him for the rest of my life, willing to give anything to be in his position. he could live a million lifetimes and still never be deserving of someone like her.

she loves me, but she will always love him more.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[biboomerangboi]

This is absolutely nothing to do with the Netflix show I haven’t even watched that thing but I’m once again thinking about Sokka and Sokkas Master again and going insane.

Especially with how Sokka was never supposed to be a warrior. Like fundamentally he’s just not built for that kind of life. He was born into war and has been basically been told and trained to believe that one day he is going to die for his tribe and especially for his sister and that’s his destiny and he’s like okay that’s my job that’s what I do and everyone in the tribe knows this and sees this as my role as I am the only man left. (I sincerely doubt a bunch of woman and old people were actually looking at this kid as the last warrior seriously until he went to fight the fire nation BY HIMSELF but that’s not the point, the point is he was doing it)

But but the thing about Sokka is he’s not a fighter, he’s a scholar to his core. He doesn’t win hand to hand against Zuko but he does get a hit in with his boomerang that takes an insane amount of math to do perfectly and even though he loses the fight we realise already that Sokka is coming at this war from a different angle that anyone else is.

Like Sokka knows when he joins Aang he doesn’t have as much to bring to the team, he basically assigns himself the role of provider and bodyguard and is now willing to die for both of them because they are two of the most important people in the world and he could have been cynical the entire time. He was prepared to be cynical. Until he goes to Kyoshi gets his shit rocked by a girl and is like oh damn there’s different ways to go about fighting and war and I actually don’t know a lot of it can you super pretty warrior lady teach me your ways and from that moment on Sokka becomes a student.

He gets the mark of the wise with Bato, he figures out how to get Katara on that prison ship and that the fortune teller is a hoax and gets the water bending scroll all through thinking things through not fighting them head on. He invents the fricken war ballon and it’s so clear that all his thinking is now coming at things from an angle no one expects which is so perfect for this war in particular considering it’s been basically a slow tug of war between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation for decades. He’s looking at these things and he’s like hey I’m not a bender but I do know how benders think and how a lot of people think because I’m trying to figure out how the world works. Like by the time he gets to North he isn’t as great with the weapons because again HES NOT A FIGHTER AT HEART but he is a thinker and he points out all the holes in the Norths strategy with full confidence.

Like in book 2 all his thoughts are about winning and out thinking the enemy. He learns about the library and gets so genuine excited about it but he can’t be a true nerd cause of his responsibilities but he basically plans a way to win the war, learns haikus, try’s art, gets into wrestling and learns so much about other cultures and skills he’s always thinking and winning and no longer doing things on impulse.

But of course he still feels insecure about that and doesn’t see his brain as his true weapon because he was supposed to be the warrior. That’s his role.

So he goes to Piandao who sees all of that and sees how Sokka is so so smart and eager to learn and think in ways that no one expects and he nurtures that. He teaches him art and calligraphy and gives him a Jian! He gives Sokka a Jian "The Gentleman of Weapons" not Dao even though Dao are made for soilders and Jian are for scholars, nobels and people who have time for proper sword craft. (Not to mention the fact they are primarily used for Tai Chi which is also the base for water bending which is just a detail I love). Like the Jian is a sword for scholars it’s for scholars!!!

Sokkas a thinker not a fighter and that’s so amazing to me.

Like he starts as the boy that took on a fire nation ship by himself then ends the series as the guy who’s strategies won the war, a trusted advisor for basically anyone of importance because they know he’s smart and are willing to listen to his ideas and with such a happy future for him to grow without the weight of having to be a fighter weighing him down cause that’s not who he’s supposed to be.

[moremaybank]

heyy! if you have time, i'd really like some angst that will make me cry... lol i was thinking klaus x wife! reader where they have been together all these years and he lets his paranoia get ahead of him and hee daggers her to "keep her safe" and then years later he undaggers her and she is all betrayed and whatever else you want ❤️ thanks!

PARANOIA — k.m

pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!reader

summary klaus goes too far while trying to protect you and your shared family.

warnings angst, klaus and reader arguing, klaus daggering reader

author's note hope you like it, babes!

klaus masterlist

yours and klaus's story had always been sacred to you both.

you'd met as children, klaus teaching you how to craft paints from the countless flowers he'd found in the forest. you tended to cuts and bruises branded on him by mikael, wiping away his tears as you tried your best to take even a fraction of his pain away. you were turned together, struggling to adjust to the changes that came with being immortal. when klaus broke his curse, you were right there by his side, reassuring him that you would navigate through it together.

you'd fled each and every home you'd made together, constantly on the run from the man klaus called father. you fought tirelessly to protect his siblings, the ones you'd considered to be your family as well. you'd hunted down doppelgängers in search of breaking his curse, fought against the numerous enemies klaus had made over the centuries, built empires together...the list goes on.

but never in a million years had you ever expected to find yourselves where you were right now.

"i've had enough, klaus! for weeks now, you've been pushing me away. casting me aside like i'm some toy you're no longer interested in playing with. i deserve more! so you're either going to talk to me, or i'm going to have to investigate for myself."

"leave it alone, y/n. this does not concern you."

"of course it does! we've been building a life together for a thousand years. your battles are my battles. your triumphs are my triumphs. every single decision you make affects me, and vice-versa. we've always faced our problems together, so why is it any different now?"

"it's different because you've become a weakness!"

klaus's statement caught you off-guard, and you swore you felt your heart shatter at his tone.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

klaus squeezed his hand into a fist tightly, trying to calm himself down before he said something he would never be able to take back.

"i will not allow my enemies to use you against me. if they manage to take you away from me, they can use your knowledge about my family and me as ammunition to tear us apart. everything we've ever built will end up in nothing but ash, all because i wasn't smart or brave enough to take the proper precautions needed to protect my family."

"our family! ours!" you argued. "we're married! does that not hold any weight for you? because it does for me.”

klaus remained silent, avoiding your gaze as the guilt coursed through him. he didn't want this. not for you and not for himself. but what choice did he have? he'd betrayed his siblings left, right and centre any time it had served him, but even he knew that he was wrong. and he was trying to make things right. no matter what, he'd always protect them. even if it meant losing out on the things and people he'd loved. like you.

"this isn't you, klaus. this isn't us. we're supposed to be honest with each other and make each other better. forever. even when we lose our way. especially then. but we can't do that when you refuse to talk to me or even look at me, for that matter."

you approached him carefully, hands smoothing up his arms to rest on his broad shoulders. it took a bit of silent pleading, but you got him to look at you. "please, my love. whatever's going on, we can deal with it together, just as we always do." klaus refuses to answer you, and you sigh. "this is bigger than just us. it's about our family. now, i will go down swinging for every last one of you, but you need to let me."

klaus shrugged your hands off of him with a huff, "that's the problem."

"what? what is?"

"the fact that you won't ever let these things go. you would fight to the death for us, and that is the exact thing that is going to get you killed."

tears welled in your eyes as your expression changed. you crossed your arms in defence, brows furrowing as you looked away from him. "oh, so— so what? it's perfectly fine for you to risk everything to save our family, but when i try to do the same, it's an issue?"

"you aren't listening—"

"no, you aren't listening! you don't get to make decisions for me. you can't just cut me out of your diabolical plans and expect me to sit here and take it. this affects me too! why can't you see that?"

again, klaus had no answer. you struggled to accept it, because how could the man who always seemed to have something to say have absolutely no words for you now?

"you're letting your paranoia cloud your judgement. you can't give it the power. you have to trust that we'll be okay."

"trust can be a fickle thing, love. anything can change in an instant. and you're right, i am paranoid. i'm allowing my demons to control me, and the only way i can take my power back is if i try to beat it. and i only know of one way that i can." klaus started to walk toward you, much too calmly for your liking. a look of confusion washed over your features. a chill ran down your spine at his tone.

"klaus...what's going on with you? seriously." you backed up with each step he took forward until your back hit the wall behind you.

klaus's hand came up to your face, gently holding your gaze on him. "i refuse to let anything happen to you. you're too precious to me," he breathed. "and it pains me to do this. in fact, if i could be killed, this would be the very thing that would end my life. but i cannot afford to take chances with your life."

klaus reached behind him, his movements calm so as to not startle you. he pulled the dagger out of his back pocket and slowly brought it forth. you looked downward as you felt the tip of it pressing against your chest ever so slightly.

"klaus, no. you can't. you won't."

your eyes met klaus's again as he took a deep breath. "i need to know you're safe. this is the only way i can be certain."

a combination of fear and anger was caught in your throat, but you forced yourself to speak. "if you do this, you'll lose me forever. and you know very well that forever is a long time, especially for a vampire."

"i don't have a choice, sweetheart," he whispered. and with that, he plunged the dagger into your heart. he held onto your frame as it grew lifeless. tears were cascading down his cheeks as he shut his eyes, clutching onto you. "even if you grow to hate me, you'll be alive to do so."

-

ten years had passed. the mikaelsons had relocated again and again, defeating their enemies as best as they could while doing so. though it hadn't been all smooth sailing.

your presence was felt by the lot of them. the ferocity with which you would fight for them. the love and constant kindness you showed them. the way you believed in the good parts in all of them. there was so much to love about you, and in light of klaus's actions, there was so much to regret the loss of.

none of them could say they were happy about the circumstance you'd been in, yet they couldn't deny that it quelled the fear of their enemies bringing you to a permanent death by their hands.

but now that the fire had died down, klaus could revive you.

klaus stood over your half-living body in your coffin, his undead heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

"you cannot leave her like this forever," elijah spoke as he approached klaus from behind.

"i know. but i'm not ready to lose her," klaus breathed. "what if she never forgives me? i don't know that i can see myself going on without her. but i do know that i will turn into a man that even i won't be able to recognize."

elijah's hand came up to rest on klaus's shoulder. "you have to allow her to make her own decisions, brother. she will forgive you, or she will not. but she deserves the freedom to decide as she chooses."

klaus nodded his head, the movement barely noticeable. he knew elijah was right, and even if you chose not to forgive him, he could take comfort in the fact that you were alive and breathing. it would absolutely suck, but still, you wouldn't be dead.

"i'll leave you to it," elijah said, "but remember that all things aside, she loves you. no matter if she's hurt or angry. she loves you, niklaus."

klaus listened to the clicks of elijah's dress shoes against the ground as he left him alone with you. he took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever was about to come. his hand wrapped around the dagger, closing his eyes as he carefully withdrew it from your chest. he placed it on the small table next to your coffin, taking a seat on his chair as he waited for life to spring back into you.

a few moments passed, and klaus watched as your fingers twitched. the grey complexion that took over your body started to fall away, the true tone of your skin taking its place. you groaned as you woke up from your decade-long slumber.

"love?" klaus questioned, quiet as a mouse. he stood up, approaching your coffin. "are you—" he paused with a huff, "how are you feeling?"

you sat up slowly, turning your head to look at klaus. the man you'd trusted with your heart and soul. as you stared at him, you didn't know if you felt that same trust. not after he betrayed you in the way he did.

"how am i feeling? " you asked. "i'm feeling like you daggered me and left me in a lifeless sleep for god knows how long." you sat up, climbing out of the coffin and smacking klaus's hand away when he tried to help you.

"sweetheart, please. let me explain—"

"explain what, klaus? i've given you everything. every last piece of me, and then some. and it still wasn't enough for you to trust me. do you know what that feels like?" he doesn't respond, but he keeps his gaze locked on yours. "it feels like choosing to love and stand by you was a colossal and utter waste of my time. a thousand years worth."

klaus stepped closer to you hesitantly, as his hands found your face. "i know you're angry with me. i understand. but you have to know that i only did what i did to protect you."

you sighed harshly, removing his hands from you. "don't. you don't get to do that. you don't get to dagger me and shove me in a box when my existence isn't convenient for you. i deserve more than that. more than you."

"y/n. i'm sorry. i did what i thought was right. i did what i knew would keep you alive. i was trying to protect you."

"i don't need you to protect me, klaus. i need you to respect me a—and to see me as your equal. but you don't. you just see someone you can push around. and i'm done putting up with it."

you began to walk away, but you paused, turning back to face him. “as the centuries passed, i’ve seen you do terrible, unspeakable things to a lot of people, but i always thought that you had a limit. i thought i would be your limit. but i guess i was wrong.”

"that's not true, y/n. you are the most sacred thing on this planet to me. you're everything. i couldn't risk losing you, especially not when i had the means to stop it," he replied. "please don't do this. don't walk away from us and everything we've built."

you scoffed, "there is no us, klaus. not anymore." you looked into his blue orbs, the very pair of eyes that once brought you so much joy now being the ones to bring you pain. “rebekah tried to warn me all those years ago, and i shrugged her off because i believed in you and i believed in what we had. but now…”

“…what are you saying?”

“i’m saying," you paused, "maybe she was right.” and with that, you left him. lost, alone, and afraid of what was to come.

~

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[animezinglife]

I think what draws me in and completely captivates me with Once Upon a Broken Heart is the sheer, unapologetic fantasy of it all and the equally unapologetic appeal to the hopeless romantic in so many of us.

I actually find it refreshing that Evangeline is a little naive, but that that naïveté comes from that wish for and willingness to find a happily-ever-after. She IS very much that fairytale heroine who gets tossed into one scenario after another, but there’s always a very genuine (in my opinion) sense of love and hope flooding through her.

She won’t appeal to everyone, but she’s also not the ditzy, helpless protagonist I think some would make her out to be. She’s a believer in love. She’s getting a rather tumultuous crash course in what love is through her misguided deal with Jacks.

It’s not the fairytale romance with a prince or a first love.

It’s not something that ends once she has it.

Happiness is something she constantly has to work for. It takes gambles and risks. It’s messy and not always easy to understand. It’s a double-edged sword. It can both uplift and betray you; warm your heart and break it.

She’s learning. She’s growing. She’s figuring out what she wants; what it means and feels like to fall in love and fight for it.

I love too that Jacks genuinely is a trickster. He’s downright diabolical at times and Evangeline is never naive enough to think she can change that. She holds herself accountable for feeling too much for him or expecting him to act like her friend, husband, or lover. He’s not an easy person to love. He’s very obviously not fully human and can be hard to understand.

Yet she’s genuinely seeing that other, more human side of him when he doesn’t retreat from it. That side that’s capable of love and has fallen in love with her (which the readers can see much more clearly). She’s not misguided in her conflicted feelings. She just keeps moving forward with the directions her life takes her. She still believes in love. She still wants to believe in happily ever afters.

She’s learning that none of those things are easy and that they can constantly evolve.

I think a lot of women regardless of age can probably relate to just how much she’s learning about herself through this all.

I know I can.

Evangeline is a softer kind of heroine. She has a gentler strength and resolve. She doesn’t always make good or smart decisions, but she also doesn’t claim to.

She’s not a complicated protagonist. This isn’t going to win any awards for the most complex, intellectually stimulating, insightful narrative of all time or any esteemed awards in terms of craft.

But honestly? I love Evangeline, and I love these books. She’s kind of the embodiment of optimism and hopeful love, and she refuses to break. She’s kind and caring.

She’s that part of so many of us I think we tend to push aside or bury as we get older and more jaded on love.

A certain quote comes to mind about being old enough to read fairytales again. I think sometimes, that can also mean being gentle and nonjudgmental towards our own hopeless, inner romantics and that wish for something better that somehow keeps us going.

[rkistars]

TENSION IN THE RAIN ★ teaser!

Full fic release date - unfortunately delayed.

——————————————————

You hated Yang Jungwon. He was always better than you. He was smart, talented, and popular.

Throughout your life, your family members have repeatedly compared you to someone named Yang Jungwon. They always make it a point to mention how much better he is than you in every aspect of life. These constant comparisons have caused you immense frustration and anger towards Yang Jungwon. The feeling of being constantly belittled and compared to someone else has deeply affected your self-esteem and confidence and has left a lasting impression on your psyche.

You put in countless hours of hard work and dedication, pouring your heart and soul into your craft. You study endlessly, trying to perfect your skills and outdo your competition. But no matter how much effort you put in, he always seems to effortlessly outshine you. It's maddeningly frustrating to witness, and it leaves you feeling defeated and demoralized. You can't help but wonder what he has that you don't, and why all your hard work doesn't seem to pay off.

And another day is another time your parents are yelling at you for being second place again.

“Second place again?! Are you kidding me??!!” Your mom shoving your exam scores to your face.

“I'm sorry Mom. It's just I was really tired.. Next time I promi-”

“You're a disgrace to this family!! I don't wanna see you right now!” Your mom pointing to your door.

As you sign with tears in your eyes, you leave your home while it's raining, cold raindrops drenching your clothes and hair.

You have become used to this routine. Each time, you try your best but end up in second place. Then, Jungwon, with a smug expression, brags about his victory while mocking your defeat. Your mom, disappointed with your performance, scolds you for not trying harder. Finally, with a heavy heart, you leave the room, feeling defeated and humiliated. This has happened so many times that you have almost become numb to the cycle of losing, taunting, scolding, and rejection.

As you feel the tears running down your cheeks, you walk over to a nearby bench and sit down. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself. The bench is made of wood and feels slightly worn, but it provides a comfortable spot to rest. You can feel the cool breeze blowing through your hair and the rain wetting your entire body.

Your nose getting red and runny, you feel an umbrella over your head. Trying to decline the stranger's offer, you look up to the mysterious man.

But to your shock, your heart sinks. it's the man who caused your defeat, Jungwon.

Trying to hide your teary face, you look away from him.

“Go away Jungwon. I'm not in the mood.”

But to your surprise, Jungwon makes you look at him.

You couldn't read his expression. Was it amusement, anger, empathy, or worry?

“Who did this to you?” Jungwons anger bubbling up.

“It's none of your busine-”

“I said who did this to you.” Jungwons voice getting louder.

You getting annoyed by his sudden affection, you glare at him.

“Do you really wanna know?! Fine! It's you and my shitty parents!! I'm tired of you doing better than me at everything no matter what I do!”

Jungwon flinching at your sudden outburst, he wipes your tears and brings his face closer than you.

“What about I make it up to you?”

“What do you mean-”

Suddenly, you felt his lips on yours.

Oops sorry! The full fic is coming soon ;)

[jesncin]

please do tell about why woman of tomorrow sucks i love reading your takes they’re always so well written

Sure! And thank you for throwing me this bone because WOOF

(btw it's totally fine for people to like Woman of Tomorrow, and I can even see why! This is just my experience with it that I wish was talked about more)

Quick context: Woman of Tomorrow is about a space farmgirl named Ruthye who seeks revenge on Krem, a guy who killed her dad. Supergirl guides her on this journey so they can learn lessons about grief and revenge.

The biggest flaw of the comic is the narrative prose. Ruthye's dialogue is a rambly, over-indulgent, stylized mix of an attempt at medieval Shakespearian speak, but then in the last few issues the writer remembers she's a farmgirl so he decides she should suddenly say "ain't" more often and speak in double negatives to sound a bit more Southern. I can enjoy wordy comics! But Ruthye's dialogue and narration is blatantly excessive purple prose. So many scenes would hit harder with a less-is-more approach while still being stylized and characteristic. Sometimes the narrations pairs nicely with the art to create layered irony, but most of the time it feels like it's disregarding the comics medium altogether.

The other thing about Ruthye's narration is that it holds the story back. I get that the narration is Ruthye writing from the future, but the way it's done gives us a very passive relationship with the events of the story. We don't get to be with the characters in the action heavy moments because we're reading caption boxes of Future Ruthye rambling about poetry recounting The Battle of Capes. I'm not experiencing grief or dread with the characters, I'm being told about it. All of Ruthye's narrative rants boil down to "Supergirl is really badass, sad and kind. I promise this is deep." and "here's how my farm girl experience is relevant to this". Ruthye also speaks in glowing admiration, idealization and worship of Supergirl; it makes it really hard to get to know Kara in a humanizing way. I'm sure the purple prose hits differently for others, but I personally think the story would have more room to breathe without it.

You know how people like saying "Superman is boring because everything is too easy for him, he's too powerful" yeah that's Woman of Tomorrow. The conflict Kara faces are not challenges to her character, they're inconveniences. The resolutions to each story don't feel clever or earned. Kara just knows where to find the murdered purple aliens, Kara just happens to have a silver age-reference magical horse that can outrun the suffering-ball Krem throws at her, Kara just toughs out 10 hours in the green sun. Why be a smart storyteller when you can just give your heroine the upper hand every single time? There could've been a great bonding moment where Ruthye uses her famer-smarts to build shade for Kara, she could've crafted a salve to protect Kara's skin. But I guess having her guard Kara from dinosaurs is ok. Kara helps of course, even though she's dying because she's so cool, badass, sad, kind, etc.

Kara's internal conflict is that she was hoping that taking Ruthye on this journey would teach the farmgirl a lesson about revenge, but has Kara herself learned to move on? She's still thinking about Krypton after all. The problem with how this is presented is that it's not a flaw that we get to see evolve with the story. We see Kara act mopey, get an origin story flashback and then Kara tells us this- in hopes it'll recontextualize everything you've read before. By the time we make it to the end, the characters act like they've learned so much and I'm just standing here wishing I got to see all this growth they're talking about.

At the heart of it, I feel like Woman of Tomorrow represents the side of Super-fandom that wants to see the Kryptonians deified by the narrative. They hate seeing Kara do silly girly rom-com teenager things, she needs to be SERIOUS and EDGY and SAD and ALONE but like a god would be and not how a young woman would be that way. How else will boys take her seriously? Don't forget to remind the reader that she's STRONGER than her boy scout wholesome cousin! There's potential in a short revenge story about young girls finding hope in seeing a role-model woman survive loss, but not like this.

"You don't think I could've solved all those problems? C'mon I'm Supergirl." I sure love seeing female characters be badass girl-god legends who don't get to be humanized by being unflatteringly flawed people. Anyway the better Supergirl grief+revenge story is "Supergirl: Being Super". I don't think it's perfect because it misses the crucial difference between Kal and Kara among other things- but as a story about a teenage heroine learning how grief shapes her and those around her, it's way better.

Woman of Tomorrow's art is stellar though lmao would get a copy just as an artbook to reference.

[bluerose5]

When Anders didn't show up for supper that night, Gale tried not to worry.

Given all that he had been through, Anders needed time to himself, he tried to reason, but it was a futile effort.

He could only pour over scrolls for so long before he went in search for him.

Not that he had to go far.

Anders was still in camp at least, perched on an outcropping of rock that overlooked the nearby lake.

He waved his hand through the air in intricate patterns, and wisps of light burst forth in an array of colors, forming shapes as he willed it.

Before Gale had a chance to announce his presence, Anders angled his head ever so slightly to the side and spoke.

"Surprised it took you this long to come find me," he greeted.

After a split second of hesitation, Gale stepped forward to join him, taking a seat on the rock beside him as silver moonlight shined down on them from above.

"How did you know I was there?" he asked, watching the first wisp dissipate before Anders crafted another.

"I was what my people called a Grey Warden, remember?" he said as way of explanation. "Always had to be alert in case of a random darkspawn attack." His face scrunched up then, nose wrinkled in disdain. "And it always paid to be vigilant in the Circles."

Gale watched him closely, how he steeled himself at the mere mention of the Circles, how guarded his expression became.

It hurt in a way that he had no words for, to hear what he had suffered in that Thedas of his for simply possessing magic.

It was mind-boggling to Gale, the very notion...

In an attempt to turn both of their minds away to less infuriating subjects, Gale nodded at Anders' light display.

"Having fun?" he asked, glad to see it when Anders cracked a smile.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted in a small whisper. "It's calming, you know, to be able to cast for the sake of doing it. To not have to use my magic for battle for once. To not have to hide it for fear of the Templars or the Chantry.

"Maker, I can't even explain to you how happy I am to finally be able to wear robes out in the open again!" Anders laughed, even as his eyes started to glisten with unshed tears. "It might be strange, having to use a source of power other than the Fade, but..."

He trailed off with a shrug, then looked over at Gale, golden brown eyes drinking in the sight of him from head to toe.

Gale shivered when a nightly breeze trailed over him.

Goosebumps spread over his skin like wildfire.

Smirking, Anders leaned in and whispered, "But I had an excellent teacher."

Gale's heart skipped a beat.

"Is that so?" he breathed.

"Mm-hmm..."

Anders' eyes darted down to Gale's lips, and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip.

Gale swallowed thickly in response.

He couldn't help it. He was drawn in like a moth to a flame.

He leaned in closer as well, so close that he could feel Anders' breath upon his lips.

Their noses brushed. They adjusted the angle, but then uncertainty struck Gale at the most inopportune moment.

He averted his eyes with a bashful grin.

"I, uh, ahem." He cleared his throat. "Are we really about to...?"

"To kiss?"

"Uh-huh."

"I don't know," Anders answered. "Are we? Because I'm certainly not opposed."

"Neither am I," Gale said, perhaps a bit too fast, had it been anyone else, "but you deserve a more romantic display, surely!"

"Heh." Anders chucked and shook his head at him in disbelief. "Gale, what could possibly be more romantic than this? Here I am, embracing my freedom with a smart, handsome man such as yourself and getting swept up in the moment under the night sky. Let me spell it out for you: if there was ever a time for you to make your move, then this is it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, alright. On that note, I must confess," he told him, "that it has been a while since I've been with anyone physically. Turns out, self-imposed isolation isn't exactly conducive to matters of the flesh."

"No matter," Anders said. Reaching out, he grabbed Gale by the fabric of his robes and dragged him forward until their lips were only a hair’s width away. "I have to say it's been a while for me as well. Perhaps this is something we can explore again. Together."

"And Justice?" Gale asked, concerned. "Is he okay with this too?"

"Trust me," Anders said, huffing out a breath of a laugh, "you would know if he had an issue with it. He doesn't." Not now. Not when they had the luxury to focus their attention elsewhere. Not when they didn't have a current cause to consume their days. Anders tightened his grip, pressed himself against him. "Now, kiss me."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Their lips barely brushed when a voice pierced through the darkness.

"Mr. Dekarios!" Tara called out. "Mr. Dekarios! Where are y— Oh, there you are! And Mr. Anders, too. How delightful!"

They jumped apart, wide-eyed with shock, when their resident tressym made an appearance.

Their faces instantly flooded with warmth, neither of them quite able to meet each other's eyes.

Tara sat down a few feet away, staring at them intently.

"Mr. Dekarios! The gravest emergency has occurred, and I need your immediate assistance." It was then that she sensed the tension between the two, her ears perking up. "Wait! I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

"No!" they both answered, but Tara was far from dumb.

"Oh, my! I was, wasn't I? Well, by all means, don't let me interrupt," she said, yet she made no move to leave, watching them as her wings fluttered.

Gale grimaced.

Anders had to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle his giggles, ignoring Gale's glare while he got to his feet.

"Why, Lady Tara, our conversation can surely wait in the face of what sounds like a dire circumstance," Anders said, bowing lightly to her. "May I?"

She tilted her head up and said, "You may."

Anders gathered her into his arms.

"What a gentleman!" she praised as he pet her. "Isn't he such a darling, Mr. Dekarios?"

"Yes, Tara, he is," Gale said, following their lead as he stood up with a groan. "Now, what is this emergency you spoke of?"

"Ah, yes!" She ruffled her feathers. "Sir Astarion left at the most inopportune time to go hunting. Usually, he is up for such a task, but my feathers need preening and my fur needs brushing before I head to bed. It is a task of the utmost importance, you understand."

"But of course," Anders readily agreed. "Let's see to that at once, shall we?"

"Leave it to you to encourage her," Gale sighed.

"Try not to get jealous," Anders teased, leading the way to his tent. "I'll make sure to spare some time for you later. We still have much to discuss, after all."

"That, we do."

[enzenwriting]

the feeling when

03 for shits and giggles (0.6kwords)

You couldn't help but shake out the nerves once again. Steadying your own heartbeat, you release a long breath. You should have been used to it by now. Having met your group members months ago, TXT a day ago and NewJeans an hour ago. Nonetheless, here you are easing your stiff smile, preparing to meet another group. "Why do you look so nervous? These guys aren't scary trust me."

"Chaewon, I have to look friendly okay?" you replied quickly.

"You mean normal?" earning a side eye from you, her chuckle was short-lived. "Okay but what would looking friendly even do?" she raised her brow at your questionable logic.

"Make me seem likeable at least? " Chaewon's lips parted, about to comment at your words when you hear commotions outside the door. Your attention falls on the increasing sounds until the door is opening, revealing three males. You think you know which group they belong in, but you were never into boy groups to confidently name them.

"It's you guys huh" Chaewon's voice brings you back to earth

"You're not new!" The shorter male quickly snorts back

"It's not me, smart ass." Chaewon scoffs. She takes your hand and pulls you closer. "It's her. This is y/n"

"Well, nice to meet you y/n. I'm Jungwon. Enhypen's leader" Jungwon reach out his hands which you shook. "If you ever need a better leader for advice, always look for me"

"I'll spray you with water you cat boy" You hear Chaewon behind you, making you laugh

"I'm Sunoo!" the other boy beams. You already feel at ease with how friendly they were. With the weight slipping off your shoulder, you turn to the quiet blonde. Undifferenced by his silence, he's stood unmoving. Unsure of how you approach the blonde, you let yourself think about it while studying his face. He was good looking, really good looking. Your thinking must've been too long when you see the heat rising from his cheeks and a quick nibble on his bottom lip.

"Are you okay" Sunoo laughs, tapping the older boy’s arm

Jake was not okay.

The moment he stepped into the practice room and briefly met eye with you who was a few steps away from him, with a glint of sparkle in your eyes and a smile seemingly crafted yet effortlessly so captivating — he was breathless. Jake didn’t know your name or what you sounded like even but just staring at your pretty face was enough for him to be rendered speechless throughout your interaction with the younger boys.

“Hi?” You gently smiled, making his heart race

Jake tried his ultimate best to stare into your eyes even though it was incredibly intimidating to do so at that moment, “Hi.”

"I'm Y/N" You squeaked at the sight of him, his cute tinted cheeks and puffy lips looking so adorable.

"I'm uh- no my...Jake" Silence fills the room. Did he just forget his name?

One moment, he’s standing in front of you, next to Jungwon and Sunoo. Half a second later, he’s turning out of the door with great urgency.

Jungwon blinks, mouth parted in confusion but no sound leaves. It takes him a minute to absorb the situation at hand. Finally, mouthing, “What the fuck was that?”

The confusion one floor and two hallways away was no better. A hand over his pounding heart, Jake could feel the irregular heartbeat through the thick layer of his jumper. Jake is suddenly aware of his burning neck and ears from the encounter. There’s an exhilarating feeling in his guts, butterflies swarming in his stomach. He can vaguely hear Jungwon call his name in the background as he exits the room.

What was happening?!

03 for shits and giggles

Summary: Joining an already debuted group, you find yourself at the centre of attention, controversy and a series of unfortunate chaotic events every time a certain pup boy is in the sight. But Jake Sim can’t seem to stop following you?!

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an: sorry for long time no update!! I’m back to schedule now but I hope you all enjoy this chapter!!🤭 (not proof read)

Taglist! (Open! Please send ask to be join!🫶) @ineedaherosavemeenow @bubblytaetae @woneulz @kyuupidwrites @hoonvrs @nvmbheart @seungcheolswife @mika-t3t @theskzvibe @j-wyoung @haechansbbg @chaerybae @nujins @mimikittysblog @phenomenalgirl9 (unable to tag in bold! Please check your blog settings!💖)

[justaduckarts]

Art Block

Drabble for my homies with art block. <3

Sun-centric

The soft sounds of pencils and crayons mingled with the distant jingle of bells. If you listened, you could hear the softer version of the daycare's theme playing in the background. Under all the noise of kids crafting their hearts out.

Grumbling, you scribbled out the drawing you were working on. Sun watched with worry as you flipped to the next page and glared at the blank space.

You glanced up, catching him staring. Sun's rays retracted an inch. He nervously turned his attention back to his paper. Sighing, you set your pencil down. Maybe a break would help. Not like you haven't been on break from drawing for days.

"What're you making, Sunshine?"

You could see his rays slip back out from behind his face. They began a lazy circle around his head.

"I don't know yet!"

"...You don't?" You furrowed your brow. "Then how do you know what to do?"

"I don't!" Sun shrugged animatedly, picking up a crayon. "But isn't that the great thing about art? There are no rules!"

"You love rules," you laughed in disbelief.

"Hmm, sometimes." Sun swayed, rays spinning a little faster. "But I think that art is a special exception. You don't have to worry about rules, because you're in charge of what you make. You just do whatever you want- or you don't do what you don't want. Isn't that amazing?"

You picked up your pencil, turning it over in your hands.

"...What if it's not good?" You peeked up at him. He laughed.

"Oh ho ho! Silly you. Any art you enjoy making is good." Sun looked at you knowingly. "Isn't that why people make art?"

"Well some art depicts pretty harsh stuff," you pointed out.

"That's true," Sun nodded, "but 'enjoyment' and 'happiness' aren't the same thing! Sometimes it's good to make something out of our yuckier feelings, too. It helps us feel a little less yucky, wouldn't you say?"

"...When did you get so smart?" You propped your chin in your hand, grinning up at him. His face spun a merry circle, making the children around the table laugh.

"I'm wise beyond my years," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "So glad you finally noticed!"

His pretend arrogance made you laugh. He was always so silly.

You glanced back down at the blank page before you, twisting your pencil once more.

Before you could sigh again, a green crayon appeared in your periphery.

"Hm?" You followed the yellow fingers gripping it. Past shiny bells and smooth ribbons, over articulated metal joints. And up into that ever-smiling face.

"There are no rules," Sun said with a smile, "so maybe try something different?"

You took the crayon from him with a smile.

"Thanks, Sunshine."

[mooniebunny]

English translation of the letters Cellbit left for his friends (and Cucurucho)

Letter to Forever: 

Forever,

I don’t know how you must be seeing me now.

If everything worked out, things must have been very weird that you suspected about my infiltration plan.

You are very smart, I believe so.

The past few days has been a torture more than I could ever imagine.

What Cucurucho did with the chainsaw doesn't even compare to the pain of fighting and lying every day to the people closest to me.

 It hurts to feel the deception.

But it was the only way.

The initial plan was to surprise Cuzãorucho (Cucurucho) at the court but the Vivo meme gave me the perfect opportunity to make a little scene and make it look like I had a reason to fight.

Cucurucho doesn't understand feelings and desires very well, so that should be enough to make him believe.

And it worked.

I’ve never been so alone but seeing you taking the lead and fighting so fiercely made me proud.

It’s all been harder than I thought but that’s the only way we can get any type of real information. 

After all the effort, all the fight, all the puzzles, we still didn’t find ANYTHING about the Federation. Anything. 

I hope I can be there to explain to you in person but if you are reading this book, something must have gone wrong.

I was forced to do things that I’d never do and say things I’d never say. 

And even trying to get the lies through, even trying to make you guys suspect, very deep in my plan… It was still bad. And I know that maybe no one in this island would ever trust me again. 

I burned everything. But that was the only way.

I left a book for Richarlyson in the beginning of everything, I didn’t want him to be with his heart broken and maybe that was my biggest mistake.

But I was willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING to take this egg out of this island. Everything. 

And that’s what I did. 

Apologize to Bad for the things I said about Dapper, to Max for Sofia and to the French people for the suspicions.

I’m sorry for what I did to you XP farm, I know how much you and Richas worked on it and every spawner I was breaking was a knife in my heart.

Honestly, I think that they would break it already because it was VERY cool…

But they made ME break it… to test if I was really willing to do anything for the Federation.

Tomorrow is the day that I officially become part of the Federation.

It’s my “entrance process”.

We’ll finally get new information. I’m VERY anxious… and nervous. 

I did all this for RIcharlyson.

I did all this for Felps.

I did all this for the Order.

I did all this for you guys.

I hope it was worth it.

Explain to Bad, Max and Quackity. And tell Foolish he’s a lovely person.

Sofia’s password that is changed is now “Regret”.

And if those bastards from the Federation make the mistake of keeping me alive…

I’ll be back.

Eyes always open, Forever.

1st Page of Roier’s letter (forever didn’t read because it was for Roier):

Roier,

The Federation asked me to survey you, and send them reports about how you were feeling.

And I had to do it to try and infiltrate them.

But just know that EVERYTHING I said to you I meant it.

TazerCraft letter: 

Mo��os, 

I know that our past isn’t the best. And I know you guys must have believed I became that monster again.

But that’s not me anymore.

Cell died on that island. I’m not that (monster).

I missed you two a lot and I wanted to be able to play more hidden and seek and try to organize an EGG SCAVENGER HUNT with you guys on Chume Labs.

Sorry for not being able to.

I love you two and you guys are amazing dads for Richas too.

He loves to spend time with you, even though you are crazy,

I think that nobody amuses him more than Tazer and Craft.

At least I won’t need to catch the red wool again.

Take care guys. And explode this asshole Cucurucho.

You already fought with Herobrine so this shitty bear is nothing.

Cucurucho Letter (basically 22 pages of...):

VAI TOMAR NO CU - FUCK YOU - LO VA A JODER - VA TE FAIRE FOUTRE - VAI TOMAR NO CU - FUCK YOU - LO VA A JODER - VA TE FAIRE FOUTRE - VAI TOMAR NO CU.....

Richarlyson Letter:

Richas,

I tried my best. I’m so sorry son.

I wanted to take you out of this island. This place is not safe and the Federation won’t let us leave.

When I arrived, I never thought I’d have to take care of someone… but what you became was more than that.

I’m sorry for not being there all the time. Every neuron I burned with those puzzles, the hours I spent locked in that office…

It was all for you, Richarlyson.

Keep trusting you dad Forever, Pac and Mike… and if in some way i can bring him back, trust dad Felps too.

By the way, Dad Quackity really loves you and he wants to protect you. I was suspecting him in the beginning but I heard the truth in his voice.

If i’m not here anymore…. Dad Quackity now has my 20%, Okay?

I’m sorry if in any way I made you feel lonely.

Remember when I told you about that moment in my life where I felt completely lonely?

Loneliness is one of the worst prisons.

Even worse than the one me and dad Pac and Mike were and even worse than this island.

I’m sorry for making you suffer too.

This is my biggest regret.

I love you, your stubborn egg.

Go and learn how to fish anything that is not a crab.

Imortalyson forever.

Book Cellbit gave Richarlyson telling about his plan:

I need them to trust me. It's the only way.

I love you.

I love dad Forever.

I need them to believe in the opposite.

It’s gonna hurt and I’ll have to to terrible things but I will destroy them from the inside. All of them.

[estranha-de-all-star]

I love how Cellbit really appreciate everyone in the server and is always cheering them up

Like, how he is always telling Forever how smarts he is and how he always have such great ideias and is so good in construction and crafting stuff, and always discussing with him and sharing his ideias and always listening to Forever, it really makes me happy <3

And it was not today, but he said to Forever that they are Veríssimo (Q!Forever) and he is Arnaldo (Q!Cellbit), two people from his RPG who are really important (Veríssimo is the head of the Ordo Realitas and Arnaldo was his right arm and best friend and they have a strong bond!)

And today he did the same with Baghera. Like, he really trust her and thinks she is really smart (with she sure as hell is, holy shit, she is amazing!!), and he said that if him or Forever got disqualified of the election, he would vote and make campaign for her! And when she said that she was not sure if she was really going to try to be elected he started saying that she definitely should make campaign and try to win bc she has good chances on winning!

(And in another note, cellbit said that if he is Arnaldo and Forever is Veríssimo, Baghera is Chizune and BadBoyHalo is Aaron and that just makes me cry bc they are like, the best and a very powerful group and it warms my heart that they think of them like that)

And it was so funny when they started having a little fight, that was just them joking around, and she started making questions of why he was trying to be president if he was taken by the Federation before and that he come back a little strange and with his hair white and Cellbit just got quiet for ten seconds before saying "YOU KNOW WHAT BAGHERA? I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU, BAGHERA! YOU'RE TOO SMART! I DON'T LIKE TALKING TO YOU!"

And he just turn to chat and is like dammit! She really is smart she already figured out that something is strange!

And he just told her his and Forever's plan for them to become president, and later he told Forever that he told her just because she figured out bc she is really smart and Forever was like "yeah man, she really is! But nah, is okay no worries, I trust her"

So yeah, I maybe got a little emotional on how they all are really good friends, ok? I LOVE THEM ALL AND HOW THEY REALLY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER AND HOW GOOD FRIENDS THEY ARE!

[sushis-brainrot]

I know you are Danish, but as a Dane what do you think of Valhalla as a game? (I’ve always wondered what a local person would think of a representation of their country history). How does it feel seeing your history and potential ancestors on there?

Oh, I could write a novel on this. 😅

Even if Eivor hails from Norway, most Vikings who conquered, settled and raided in England - came from Denmark. A fact you'll oddly enough find most Danes proud of. Nonetheless, AC Valhalla has a super interesting take on it and still manages to apply real historical context - despite the game being fictional. With most Danes being able to track their ancestry back to Odin, and taking pride in their Viking heritage, AC Valhalla had a challenge ahead of them. But I genuinely feel like they've written us a beautiful love letter while staying true to the franchise.

Having grown up with Norse Mythology, though, and having had an insatiable interest in it since my first encounters with it as a child, that is what truly piques my interest. Norse Mythology is such an incredibly fun and human experience. A story and a world that translates well into a setting such as AC Valhalla. And not only because of the historical context.

The representation of mythological characters, the gods (æsir and vanir alike), the jötnar and dwarves are, in my opinion, fantastic.

Odin's arrogance, his hunger for power and knowledge, with just a touch of something playful.

Loki's mischievous nature, his cunning and intelligence - how he seems to believe the impossible to be improbable, and like a riddle to be solved.

Frigg's motherly determination.

Freyja's smarts and passion - how they remember that she's not only a goddess of love but also a goddess of war.

Each god has different qualities, weaknesses, and attributes. In Norse Mythology, an important characteristic is how the gods exhibit a plethora of human traits, behaving much like humans with emotions and interpersonal conflicts. The gods were meant to serve as role models, showing humans how to live and which rules to follow – and which ones could be broken. The existence of the gods was just as fraught with problems as that of humans, and their primary task was to ensure that chaos did not erupt. They're meant to be relatable - human - in their person and behaviour. And this is something I feel AC Valhalla shows and explores well.

The narrative of AC Valhalla doesn't shy away from presenting Odin's choices in a morally ambiguous light. The impact of Odin's decisions on the world around him, including the relationships with other Isu (Loki especially) and the well-being of Ásgarðr, serves as a reminder of the intricate web of cause and effect. While Odin's decisions, driven by a mix of self-preservation and concern for his people (or family), blur the lines between right and wrong. The game invites players to question the morality of Odin's choices, fostering a deeper engagement with and understanding of his character. Even as an Isu, a God, even as he believes himself infallible: Odin is human. He's flawed.

And it reflects in Eivor. She's confident in herself, and in her abilities, sometimes verging on arrogant. But through her discoveries and development throughout the game, she's humbled and realises what is truly important to her, which eventually leads to her rejection of Odin. Her whole experience and journey are so authentically human. Her emotions, her experiences, and her relationship with Odin. Finding herself, despite what whispers in her ear, and realising what holds her heart.

But this is something I feel the AC franchise does well: they tell stories that are unique to the human experience. Something that harmonizes well with the themes of Norse Mythology.

I feel they've done an amazing job with AC Valhalla. I genuinely love the game, I keep coming back to it; thinking about it. With AC Valhalla they've crafted a captivating and immersive experience that seamlessly blends the storytelling of Norse Mythology, Viking Culture, and the fictional aspects of Assassin's Creed, while beautifully conveying the complicated message of the human experience.

That's it.... I apologize for getting carried away 😅

What was the question again? 🤣