#I would love to hang out with him forever…

[alieinthemorning]

How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 

And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 

Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 

You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 

After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.

“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 

“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.

Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 

Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 

“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 

You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 

He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 

“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 

Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 

You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 

Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  

Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 

You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 

“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 

Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 

But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”

“Just admiring you.”

“Crazy, me too.” 

You both laughed at yourselves,

and the beauty of your relationship.

Happy Birthday, Ace!

And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol

Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!

So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!

I'll see yeah when I see y'all!

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[girliism]

a continuation of this

you and patrick orbited around each other that following week. you refused to speak to him. you felt humiliated, having to see her, interact with her, and with your new found realization you wondered how had you not seen it before? the less than platonic touches that lingered too long, how patrick seemed to hang onto her every word. the tension between the two of you was suffocating and impossible to ignore. “practice might run late tonight.” your friend eyed the both you. “ok.” you answered dryly. patrick placed a hesitant and awkward kiss on your head before leaving. your friend cleared her throat. “so, what’s going on with you two.” you looked at her. “what do you mean.” you knew what she meant. “nothing just you guys seem weird.” she shrugged. but you couldn’t avoid him forever, i mean you guys lived in the same house. “couldn’t sleep?” you were standing at the counter when patrick walked into the kitchen. you shook your head. “never realized how big our bed is.” patrick has sleeping in the guest bed. the tall brunette came to stand next to you. “don’t you think we should talk.” you sighed and looked up at him. “i’m tired, patrick.” you grabbed the tea you were brewing, going to make your way back upstairs before his voice stopped you. “are you gonna leave me?” his question rattled around in your head. would you? over something he said ment nothing. except sex always ment something.

“that depends entirely on you.” you mumble. “what?” turn to face him. “i see the you look at her patrick.” he huffed. “and don’t tell me it doesn’t mean anything because it does.” patrick ran his hand through his hair. “when can we let this go? it was mistake that i am forever sorry about, but you can’t keep punishing me.” he defended himself. you let out a breathy laugh. “you went out of your way to have sex with her patrick, that doesn’t sound like a “mistake” to me.” patrick rubbed his hands over his face, throwing his head back. “well it was.” his words muffled by his hands over his face. why couldn’t you just believe him. “are you in love with her?” patrick just looked at you. was he? or was this merely a crush, some sort of fleeting infatuation for his past lover. “you are my wife.” you closed your eyes ignoring how he ignored the question. “am i? because it’s like i have to beg for your attention, while she could call you and you’re out the door.” you said, tears building up, patrick walked up to you placing his hands on your shoulders. “i wanna make this work, i wanna put this behind us. please.”

so you guys made it work. patrick gave himself boundaries when it came to tashi, no more late night practices or business dinners alone. he spent more time with you, taking you on dates more which felt awkward at first having to start over. there was even a redo on family pizza night which the kids loved, though it brought back bittersweet memories for you. “dad, look i made a tennis ball pizza.” your son laughed. with patrick’s final season starting soon he was gonna be on the road, alone, with tashi. “patrick?” you whispered. it was the middle of the night but you couldn’t sleep, you kept rolling around your wedding ring, the piece of jewelry that once felt like a second skin now sometimes felt heavy. “hm.” he hummed. “will i be able to trust you on tour?” patrick rolled to lie on his back, placing his hand in yours. “of course.” you let out a deep sigh, squeezing lightly at his hand

patrick ended winning the us opening he had previously lost, announcing his retirement from tennis thanking both you and tashi for getting him here.

( i think reader staying with patrick and them working it out was the more realistic approach.)

[anniebeemine]

hi!!!!! I’ve loved all your Spencer Reid fics, I have been eating them up like a starved lion. That being said I have a request if that’s alright!!

Little self indulgent, but maybe Spencer with a reader who’s just been feeling like just so crazy like emotionally. Just having a lot of overthinking and having a lot of crying fits?? Hopefully that makes sense, but some nice comfort would be peak, thank you sm!!! 🩵🩵🩵

I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my work <3 I'd love to write a little something for you

The house was quiet, but inside your mind, everything felt overwhelming. You sat on the edge of the bed, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess, spiraling into one of those emotional storms that you just couldn’t seem to escape lately. Tears slipped down your cheeks, and as much as you tried to hold it together, the lump in your throat made breathing feel like a battle.

You didn’t hear Spencer come in, but suddenly there he was—standing in the doorway, his brows knitted together in concern as he watched you, clearly sensing something was wrong. His soft, familiar voice broke through your haze.

“Hey…” He crossed the room quietly, careful not to startle you. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head, struggling to form a coherent sentence. It felt impossible to explain why you felt like this—why everything was so heavy. "I don't know," you finally managed to whisper, your voice cracking. "I just feel...crazy. Everything feels too much. And I keep overthinking everything, and I can’t stop crying. It doesn’t even make sense."

Without another word, Spencer sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your back. He didn’t try to fix it. He didn’t tell you to stop crying or try to solve your problems. He just sat there, his presence grounding you, letting you know that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

After a few moments of quiet, he spoke, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re not crazy. You’re going through a lot, and sometimes it’s hard to make sense of it all. But whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers, and you don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

His words were like a balm to the raw edges of your emotions. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as another wave of tears came, but this time they felt a little less overwhelming. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you let it out, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside of you.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I’m right here.”

You stayed like that for what felt like forever, his arms a safe haven from the weight of your own mind. Slowly, the sobs quieted, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing syncing with his.

When you finally pulled back, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. I’m proud of you for hanging on, even when it feels impossible.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips despite everything. “Thank you… for just being here.”

“Always,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of love and sincerity that made you feel a little bit lighter. “Whenever it feels like too much, remember you don’t have to carry it by yourself. I’m always here for you.”

And for the first time in a while, you believed him.

You leaned back into his embrace, burying your face in his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you again. The warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath were comforting, anchoring you in the moment. As you relaxed into him, the words you’d been holding inside tumbled out in a quiet, shaky mumble.

Spencer’s hand gently rubbed soothing circles on your back, his voice calm and reassuring in your ear. You nodded against him, his words sinking in as the tension in your body slowly eased. Speaking the thoughts that had been rattling around in your head out loud, even if they didn’t make perfect sense, helped loosen their grip on you. And Spencer, as always, listened without judgment, giving you the space to feel everything without pressure. His words felt like a lifeline, pulling you out of the swirling thoughts just enough for you to breathe a little easier. You stayed in his arms, the two of you wrapped in a quiet understanding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight in your chest started to lift.

[dearsaintavangeline]

DAMIAN WAYNE SCHOOL HEADCANONS because school opened like 2-3 weeks ago and i need to cope

•since he is 15 years old, he is in 10th grade(not letting dc pull a tim drake and make him the same age forever)

•he used to love chemistry in the 9th grade because the first subject was alchemy if i remember correctly(dc can pry the "al ghuls are alchemists" hc(canon) from my cold dead hands)

but he lost interest in chemistry quickly after the subject passed.

•his all time favourite classes are math and art. im just sure damian's type of person that doesnt separate math and art from eachother

•why art is his favourite is a given but his favourite is math because math is a class based on problem solving(and also because he can do math easily)

but yeah ik his classmates are very very annoyed whenever he says "math is easy"

•I imagine him arguing with his english teacher the most for some reason. there is no reason other than damian is a very educated kid about the english literature(literature in general) so either he doesnt care or he correct his teacher on literally everything.

•i feel like he would either do a very detail research about the book he read and write a very long essay, or make a very short one and not enough detailed. no in between(because he misunderstood his teachers when they said to "keep it short")

•he begged his father to let him take an exam that lets him skil grades based on his level but his father refused so now he takes advanced math etc.

•him and duke see eachother in the morning regularly(insomniac duke and damian who wakes up at 5.30 is real) and they sit down to talk about random shit till 7 am mostly(duke explained him the fnaf lore and damian talked about creepypastas real)

•he texts with maps both on their way to their separate schools and make plans to meetup after school to just hang out

•damian usually reads or draws in most of the classes since he already knows everything they are teaching but when asked a question, he does yap a lot(dc should bring back yapper damian ngl)

•bathroom breakdowns were very real for 9th grade damian(literally canon event for everyone with social anxiety or people who get overstimulated at school)

•still bullied just doesnt care about it and insults them/messes with them back to get back at the bullies(it stops after him also messing with them)

•he loves playing football and volleyball but not with his teammates(ik hes no3 frat boy hater i just feel it) so he only gets along with 2 of his teammates. i imagine their personality as scott and stiles from teen wolf so yeah

•has one(1) friend and two(2) teammates he doesnt hate in total(girlfailure and girlsuccess damian youre real to me🙌😼)

•he always calls his mother when he makes it to school and whenever hes leaving it because talia worries and he wants ease her worries(ultimate mother daughter duo)

•after school he has a yap session with nika and they talk about everything that happened to them(yapper4yapper gravebird my beloved)

•him and stephanie rant about school daily and talk about how much they hate it(but they both wont drop it since steph wants that med school degree and damian also wants it in the future(med student sisterisms real))

•jon may be going to a journalism school(i think??) but hes still a science nerd so their study sessions always turns into an argument about an equation or a science problem

>>> so i think thats it!! please tell me your headcanons too and help me cope with school also because i love reading about hcs(esp thosr about damian) <<<<

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 5 | Read Part 4 here Not the final part. I unintentionally lied in my last post?? I explain at the end of this update. For now, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+

CW (For whole story): Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Grief, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 7.5k

*Reminder, this is part 5. ⋆ a few tags for some. @stanfordscrush | @lanafofana | @catch-all | @thoughts-of-bear | @agathaharknessfan96 | @niki-is-a-reblog | @avabjorna36 | @acrobatalien42 | @princesspeachtacular | @amorgansgal | @freshlemontea (some tags don't work but the thought is there!)

A downpour of emotions flooded Halsin’s heart all at once. His entire body trembled, heart pounding violently in his ears, and the bear within banged against an invisible cage, claws protruding, swiping, and slashing. The beast roared, the force so tremendous and powerful that Halsin felt it in his bones, surging through his veins like wildfire, and he tossed his head back and thundered an agonizing roar of his own. He felt his eyes burning, cheeks wet and stained with violent tears. When his screaming seized, his throat stung, and the muscles in his arms felt tight and sore as he clenched his fists so hard that the veins in his arms began to bulge. Halsin lowered his head, glaring through watery eyes at the vacant space you once occupied only moments ago.

His shoulders slumped and he finally unclenched his fists, though it only made the trembling in his arms and body worse. He nearly flinched when he felt a sudden warmth wrap itself around his frame, half aware of blue flames flickering on the side of his vision. “Oh Halsin,” the voice said. It sounded like Karlach, but he could hardly see, could hardly think. His mind was dazed, lost, the only function he was aware of was the endless tears leaking from his eyes.

Another set of warmth came around him, then something like a hand on his back. Halsin just sat there, on his knees, hair disheveled with several strands hanging in front of his eyes. Someone squeezed him tighter, sniffling near his ears. His stomach felt so unbelievably tight, his chest heavy and straining under an invisible weight. Images of your teary eyes looking up at him crowded his mind; the thin trails of blood that seeped down the side of your chin as you spoke your final words. It was a dream. No, a nightmare. It had to be.

The two of you were still back home, lying in bed, your naked bodies entangled in one another. The sun’s light was still spilling through the open windows, shimmering over your skin. You were still tracing lazy patterns over the hairs on his strong chest, blessing him with your beautiful gaze and occasional kisses. Nature was still singing just outside of your home, the sweet melodies inviting you both to enjoy the new day. Halsin would roll you on your side, settling himself behind you, feeling the bareness of your body curving so perfectly into him. He would—

“It should have been me… Vlaakith—” a familiar voice stirred Halsin away from the dream, painfully bringing him back into this nightmare.

The rocky surface of the Astral Plane flickered back into view, and he heard her speak again. It was Lae’zel— her voice was lower, faltering as she choked to get her words out. “That was my death. Mine.”

Halsin squeezed his eyes shut, his heart crumbling further. The bear within slumped on the floor, defeated, panting, and exhausted. “Do not say that,” he said, his voice dry and throat still burning. Halsin felt no rage towards Lae’zel, and he knew you wouldn’t want him to. There was only one person responsible, and Lae’zel had already laid her to waste.

He felt a gentle hand rest on his knee, tentative and almost fearful. He was more aware now, of the embrace and physical consolation around him. He could feel their sorrow, their grief, their pain both for him and themselves. No further words were said, only the sounds of quiet weeping and the eerie current of the Astral Plane. Halsin’s head swarmed with a million thoughts as his arms started to feel numb and heavy, useless. The magic that flowed through his essence felt hollow and drained like it too was drowning in the sudden loss.

Halsin thought back to the glowing, healing blue light that he desperately tried to pour into you. And yet it did nothing to heal you, nothing to sustain you long enough to get you out of the Planes. What good was it to be gifted with these powers, to wield such powerful magic that did nothing when he needed it most? They had the means to revive those lost, but there needed to be something to revive.

His heart lurched as the flat of his hands felt the cold ground. Where you should’ve been. Where he, Shadowheart, Gale, anyone could’ve brought you back. But there was nothing to bring back, for the damned Astral Plane robbed him of the chance. Stealing you away when you belonged to Faerûn, belonged to him; his greatest confidant, lover, and best friend.

Oak Father… Halsin thought to himself, desperate for aid, for another chance. He was Silvanus’ chosen, one of his most devout followers, surely he would not forsake Halsin now. But even Halsin knew divine intervention did not come lightly or often. And he knew better than anyone that Silvanus was a god of nature; of respecting its balance, the cycle of life, and sometimes the fierce unpredictability of everything nature brings. To even think of asking the Oak Father for such aid may be considered blasphemous, for he was not a god of necromancy but—

Halsin’s eyes shot open, his blood pumping with purpose. And with renewed strength, he rose higher on his knees, stirring those who embraced him.

“Halsin?” Karlach questioned, letting her arms fall away from him as Halsin now stood to his feet. “What is it?”

Halsin glanced at her, eyes frantic, heart racing. The others peered at him curiously, wiping their faces as they kept their attention on the risen druid. “Withers,” he uttered, his heart rate increasing by the second as he darted his gaze towards Gale whose eyes were red and patchy.

“When have you all seen him last?” Halsin inquired, an intense severity in his voice as his words came out rushed and eager. He quickly swept his eyes over all of his companions, waiting for one, anyone to respond first.

“It’s… it’s been years,” Shadowheart answered first, her cheeks and nose a deep rose, flushed with tears.

Wyll groaned as he moved to stand, and he swiftly used his armored wrist to wipe beneath his nose. “Not since our first reunion,” he added.

“You don’t think…” Gale pondered, eyes slowly widening with realization.

Halsin nodded firmly. “I do.” It had been two decades since they last saw and spoke to Withers. After the first reunion, the skeletal being teleported everyone to their respective homes and journeys, bidding them a very blessed farewell. They had long carried suspicions there was more to Withers than he let on. That he was more than a keeper of records or scribe, but an old, mysterious god perhaps. Still, none of them ever pressed the issue, content with the consistent aid Withers bestowed. But they needed that aid once more— Halsin needed it.

Astarion paced around the group, waving his hands hastily. “Then what’re we waiting for? Let’s go wake up the old bastard.”

Halsin strode towards Gale and Shadowheart, each step swift, his presence demanding before he even said a word. They both stared up at him with an anxious gleam in their eyes beneath the haze of sorrow. When Halsin spoke, his words came out rapidly, hands trembling. “She once told me you all found Withers in some sort of crypt only a few miles from the Grove, how- how quickly can you open a portal there?”

“Um- I- well,” Gale stammered, the wheels in his head turning.

Karlach stepped by Halsin’s side, blue flames still dancing along her skin and hair. “Would he even be willing to help us again? It’s been so long.”

“We must try,” a sharp voice responded. Halsin glanced at Lae’zel who was still kneeling on the ground, her head still bowed.

Shadowheart, frowning, closed her eyes briefly while she turned away. She exhaled a deep breath before speaking, gathering herself. “Halsin… our magic is sapped. We only have the portal we came here in. Perhaps we should rest first and then—

“No,” Halsin’s thunderous voice rumbled the ground beneath their feet. “There is no time for rest. We will merge our energies, focus on the task and make a way.” He spoke with an intense conviction, his tone low. It was not in the way one would speak to their friends, but how a leader would speak to their followers—how an Archdruid would enact their commands.

Silence followed his orders as Halsin eyed everyone in turn, taking in their wary and doubtful appearances. Only Astarion seemed just as impatient as he was, ready to follow whatever was needed. From beyond their group, he noticed Minsc’s lumbering frame posed in front of a horde of allied githyanki warriors, becoming a barrier against those who were curious over their crestfallen victors.

Halsin tightened his brows, his heart loud in his ears as the bear within huffed, displeased at the hesitance before him. “All of you,” he ordered, “reach into the Weave, and link yourselves with me.”

A tender and somewhat firm hand rested on his shoulder. Halsin turned his head to find Wyll, the scars on his face as sullen as his expression. “Brother please, let’s not be hasty. Time is different here, right? If we rest in the Planes, perhaps only a few more minutes would have passed in Faerûn.”

Halsin sneered and shoved his hand off him, marching a few steps away from the group. Fists and teeth clenched, he stared off into the ethereal Planes, a wave of anguish and rage threatening to throw him off his balance. A part of him knew his friends were right, that they needed to rest. His own magic felt faint and dull due to the many times he wild-shaped or desperately tried to heal you.

“Where are you, Withers?” he mumbled roughly, unable to ignore the heat boiling in his blood.

Behind him, Halsin could feel his friends’ silent thoughts, their concern and hesitation to approach him. If they couldn’t help, he’d have to figure it out on his own. Why did he have to bend to time’s will? No. There was always a way, and he would find it as soon as possible.

“H-Halsin?” he heard Gale ask, but Halsin only sighed internally refusing to respond. If Gale could not help him, then there was nothing more to say.

Karlach’s voice arose next, urgent. “Halsin, look.”

Just as she spoke, he felt a surge of energy consume the space around him. A great power that felt foreign to the Astral Plane. Turning, Halsin’s eyes widened at the sight of a massive, green, spherical portal hovering a short distance away from the group. A familiar gaunt figure emerged, dressed in worn dark robes as they sauntered casually into the Planes. Halsin’s stomach lurched and a rush of the most extreme sensation of hope filled his chest. It couldn’t possibly be…and so quickly…

“I have heard thine’s call.” Withers. His rumbling echo of a voice still carried a weight of eeriness and an underlying power. “Once separated by the influence of time, our paths once again merge. Does thou require my services once more?” His dark, hollow eyes passively swept over the stunned companions before deftly landing and remaining on Halsin.

Halsin took three long strides toward the undead entity, his breathing rapidly increasing. He moved like he was almost going to tackle the fragile-appearing figure until Karlach’s strong hand tugged at his forearm.

“Easy there, soldier,” Karlach urged. “Breathe first.”

Halsin swallowed, trying to steady himself while Withers observed coolly, undisturbed by Halsin’s intensity. Towering over the undead man, he took one deep breath, speaking with purpose. “You’ve aided us before- can you aid us now? A resurrection. Any price.”

Withers surveyed Halsin silently, then examined the appearance of his friends before calmly strolling in between the group. With his gaunt arms folded behind his back, he hummed to himself as though analyzing the results of an experiment. Halsin watched intensely as the undead man continued to take in his surroundings. His heart dropped as he watched Withers stop at the very spot Halsin last held you, where he lost you.

“Ah, a hero has fallen,” Withers droned. “A great loss indeed.”

Halsin moved towards him, heart hammering. “Can you bring her back? Please.”

“Please, Withers,” Karlach added, frowning as she stepped near Halsin.

Withers was still for a moment then closed his hollow eyes, extending his skeletal arm over the area you fell. A glowing, green light illuminated his arm and Halsin watched with bated breath as the bear within paced frantically.

Withers made a few humming noises, some faint mumbling as his hand glowed brighter. His hand swayed in side-to-side motions like he was brushing something away or searching through a pile. Withers twitched, and the light burst in his hand before dimming completely. Halsin’s heart dropped at the sight, a part of him sensing something was wrong. Then Withers, ever so calmly, opened his eyes.

“Alas, their spirit has not been found, for it does not linger in the realm of where my power extends.”

Halsin stumbled, his stomach twisting. “What? Then where!?” he bellowed, his thunderous voice powerful enough to shatter the rocks they stood on.

Withers answered, impassive. “I cannot answer, for I do not possess the knowledge of such an answer. Such truths are beyond even my grasp.”

“So there is nothing you can do?” Halsin raged, incredulous. His voice was caught between yelling and trying to control his erratic breaths. “There is nothing you can do? She is just lost, gone forever?”

Withers raised a hand as if to calm him. “The Astral Planes are but a single thread of existence in the great cosmos. Fear not, mortal one, for fate spins as it should. What is lost may simply be lost, not gone.”

“Tsk’va! What good is a master necromancer who cannot perform this very task!” Lae’zel was on her feet now, pointing her sharp nails in Withers’ direction. “Htak’a! Is there nothing you can do!”

“Well isn’t this just marvelous,” Astarion crooned, incredulous. “Our magic is useless, the gods are quiet, and the one oh-so-powerful undead who has helped us several times before suddenly- cannot. How wonderful.”

Halsin surveyed Withers’ decrepit face as he stood almost apathetically, his body unmoving. It was hard to tell what he was feeling within those dark, obsidian eyes—if he was feeling anything at all. Withers seemed utterly unfazed by the chorus of frustrations and the occasional insults directed his way. He had never been one to show a heightened level of emotion before, why would the undead entity begin now? After another moment, Halsin turned away, taking several steps while his mind drifted and the voices of his friends grew muffled with each passing second.

The realm around him suddenly felt so distant and veiled, like he was ambling his way through a cryptic, blurred dream. A dream where angry voices were shouting in the distance but he could not decipher what they were saying, nor did he have the means to care. Withers could not help him, which meant Halsin could not bring you back. You were not just lost to him, you were gone, even your soul was apparently nowhere to be found.

The weight of Halsin’s shoulders felt painfully burdensome, his muscles tight and sore, legs threatening to betray him. The druid was defeated, broken beyond repair. Halsin looked down, bringing the palm of his hands into view at the same time. His calloused hands were streaked with crimson, a notable tremor in both. He lowered his arms and inhaled a deep breath, feeling his heart sink as a tide of gloom and agony tore through his body, penetrating his mind. Even the bear and all his wild shapes retreated deep within his essence, burrowing into the darkest corners they could find.

Halsin lifted his gaze, noticing that Withers was standing before him again, a curious glint in his sunken eyes. His friends were out of his vision, behind him, still arguing amongst themselves about what to do next or which god to call upon. As for Halsin, he had a new goal.

“Withers,” Halsin uttered, quiet as to not alert the others. “May I request one last thing, and I will no longer seek your services.”

Withers did not respond verbally, he simply tilted his head and blinked as though he were permitting Halsin to proceed.

“May you grant me a portal to The High Forest? I wish to go alone. No followers.”

Withers seemed to consider, then very faintly bowed his head.“As thou wishes.” Withers turned, lifting his hand with his palm outward as though he was ordering someone to stop. Green orbs began to glow in the center of his hollowed eyes and in the next moment, a shimmering, emerald portal flickered to life before them.

The druid stared at the sphere of green light and mist buzzing with power, waiting to be used. Halsin, posture sullen, began to step towards the waiting portal but stopped just before entering. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of hasty steps rushing towards him. Withers lifted a hand, and his friends were instantly repelled by an invisible barrier, splitting them from Halsin.

“Hey, what the fuck is this Withers!” Karlach shouted, the pain in her voice palpable.

“Be at ease, child of fire. For the druid has requested to journey in solitude.”

Karlach scoffed, banging once at the transparent bubble that shimmered on each contact. “Journey huh? Wherever you think you’re going, big guy, we’re coming with you!”

“No,” Halsin responded, stern. “This is a path I tread alone now.” He turned away, fully facing the portal again, unable to hold her grievous eyes any longer. “Forgive me for this dejected departure, and goodbye my friends.”

“So, that’s it then?” Astarion yelled, taking a turn to thrash at the barrier. “You’re leaving us, too?” His voice seemed to choke and a harsh hiss escaped as he breathed.

“No, brother! We should stick together,” Wyll chimed in, a faint crack in his voice, “now more than ever.”

Halsin closed his eyes, stung by the pain in their voices, the desperate need to cling close together. But his heart was drained and weak, his body dense and heavy— soul shattered. And his friends, they were too much of a reminder of what they all lost.

The shouts and cries of their pleas tormented him, hearing their aggressive pounding on the magical barrier. He heard curses at Withers, vocal incantations, and consistent calls for his name. But the elf’s mind had been set, he wanted out of this blasted Plane- alone. And they could not convince him otherwise. So without sparing another glance, Halsin, head hung a bit low, walked through the portal crafted just for him. Immediately, he was greeted by tall trees and a fading sun as the sound of a loud whoosh erupted behind him, and the portal vanished.

Two years had passed since Halsin lost you. Two years since he walked away from his friends in the Astral Plane, effectively cutting himself off from any contact. The mighty elf found himself sitting in a tavern along the northern part of the Sword Coast, in the coastal city of Neverwinter that was a few hundred miles north of Waterdeep. He was pausing for the night to restock before he headed even further north, deep into the wilderness, alone once again.

Two years since he left the Astral Plane, and two years since he returned to a life of roaming, lacking the strength to return home. After spending days mourning in The High Forest, Halsin knew he couldn’t go back to the home you and him created together. His home was solely with nature now, in every and any region he could reach. Unfortunately for him, his current path had him passing through a city at his displeasure, for it had been quite some time since Halsin was surrounded by such dense civilization that the noise of collective chatter felt foreign to him.

Just the one night, he reminded himself. One night, then he would proceed north to Icewind Dale, the furthest reach of the northwestern coast, and deep into the forests along the mountainside. Winter was coming, and the bear was craving a long rest far away from civilization.

Halsin sat in the corner of the lively tavern, next to long open windows that gave a wide view of the beach and sea beyond. He hadn’t meant to pass through such a busy place, but aimlessly found himself traveling along the coast on his way north, directly into the heart of Neverwinter. While he was there, he chose to stop to fill his belly, and perhaps stay for at least half a night to rest before he packed up and moved on.

He would occasionally scan the massive room, drawn towards the bard’s lively tune on stage and the many patrons who linked arms and danced to the joyous melody. They laughed and swirled, some still holding their jugs in hand while their feet carried them across the wooden floors. Radiant musical notes hovered around the stage with some floating above the dancing patrons, the sparkling magic leaping to the same rhythm.

Halsin noted the bliss on everyone’s faces, and he wanted to smile, to bask in the jubilant energy… but joy seemed to no longer have a home in Halsin’s heart. It had been two years since he last felt a genuine smile smooth its way onto his face. Two years since he laughed and danced, losing himself to the enthralling tunes amongst wonderful company.

He closed his eyes, jaw clenching before he took a sip of the harsh gin, hot and brutal down his throat. He used to detest the stronger liquors but found more comfort in them these days. The potent burn of the taste was but a brief discomfort, a door that opened into the calmness that followed.

Halsin’s eyes swept across the coastline from his seat, his mind partially adrift. But he wasn’t oblivious to the curious glances and hushed whispers when he first walked in, even more so once he found a place to sit down. For an elf the size of a half-orc, he was used to the wondrous stares whenever he entered new places.

Feeling an oncoming presence, Halsin turned to find two patrons sauntering towards him—a drow and a half-elf. They seemed young; the half-elf couldn’t have been over sixty, and the drow could have been anywhere between thirty and two hundred. They both wore playful smirks as they approached, eyeing Halsin keenly.

The drow stopped in front of the table. Her pink eyes, like cherry blossoms, analyzed Halsin’s face with a sparkle of excitement. “We don’t mean to intrude but… are you the Archdruid Halsin?” Her voice was smooth as silk, white hair brushed neatly down her back.

Halsin cleared his throat, leaning back, and the wooden seat creaked slightly under his weight as he moved. “Former Archdruid.”

Their eyes widened in delight and the half-elf stepped forward. “But still a master I’m sure. We’ve heard many... intriguing things about you, one being that you can turn into a bear for hours,” the half-elf exclaimed with a praising voice, his green eyes full of interest. He then gestured to the vacant seating across from Halsin. “May we?”

Halsin thought about it for a moment, torn between clinging to his solitude and not wanting to deny a potentially friendly conversation. It had been weeks since he had a proper chat with anyone, perhaps it was time to mend that. So he nodded his head and the pair eagerly slid in across.

The drow leaned forward, the descending sun emphasizing the pink in her irises, extenuated by her lilac skin. Before she spoke, her lips curved into a slight frown. “Apologies but, we couldn’t help but notice you seemed rather… downtrodden. Lonely, even.”

“A hero of Baldur’s Gate deserves company,” said the half-elf, a friendly smirk on his face.

Halsin half chuckled, darting his eyes between the pair. He analyzed their postures, how they leaned closer to the table in his direction, but also how their shoulders and arms touched naturally… familiar. Their clothing was sleek and tight fitting, save for the long thin coat the half-elf wore. They were both matching with a deep royal blue, fashioned with golden embroidery patterns, wealth seemed to be of no trouble to them.

“I rather enjoy quiet time alone,” Halsin told the pair, their smiles mildly falling. “But I will not shy away from welcoming conversation.”

The drow smirked, blinking slowly through her long lashes. “If it’s solitude you seek, you’ve chosen a rather interesting establishment.”

Halsin released a soft, quick laugh. “Interesting indeed. But I am just passing through.”

“Oh? And to where is your true destination, might we ask?” inquired the half-elf, a genuine intrigue in his tone.

“Further north, near the mountains,” Halsin told them, terse, not wanting to divulge the specifics.

“Hmm, there’s not much fun up there,” said the half-elf. “And the cold can be frigid and unforgiving I hear.”

The drow nodded in agreement. “You should stay here, basking in the gentle warmth of the city. This place is called Neverwinter for a reason, courtesy of the elemental magic warming our waters.”

Halsin sighed, taking a moment to glance out the window towards the sea. The air was strangely warm there, considering how north they were and almost at the turn of the next season. “Tempting but… my purpose remains. I am here for the night and journey onward tomorrow.”

The drow pursued her lips like she was thinking, a hint of a sulk on her dark-painted lips. She glanced briefly at her partner before locking eyes with Halsin again. She slid her nails across the table in the direction of Halsin’s mug, stopping just shy of his fingers. “Well then, former Archdruid, since we are pressed for time, allow us to be forward with you. We’ve heard more tales than just that of your bear but that you are also quite… skilled in other aspects.”

Halsin inspected them closely, humming in response with a slight tilt of his head. The faintest smirk touched his face, but he said nothing, curious to hear more of the presumably oncoming proposal.

Beside the drow, her partner spoke. “If you are interested,” he began, his green eyes bright against the contrast of his pure black hair. “We’d like to invite you to share in our bed tonight. A hero deserves to be praised, after all.”

Halsin leaned back slightly, his finger obliviously tapping against his mug. A faint feeling simmered deep within his abdomen as he surveyed the couple. The lightest stir of a change in his pulse. As he began to ponder, the drow quickly continued their request.

“You needn’t do much, master Halsin. It would be our pleasure to take care of you,” she murmured sweetly, one slender finger of hers daring to stroke along Halsin’s. “But we also wouldn’t be opposed to more… wilder sides of your druidic charms.”

“Just for the night,” the half-elf added with a sly smile. He confidently placed both hands on the table, slowly clasping them together while he awaited the druid’s answer.

Halsin gave a deep intake of breath, slow and pondering. His gaze shifted between the couple across him, their eyes watching him eagerly, a hidden flush of want and need. Halsin, in his long life, was no stranger to the attention of being desired. Many considered him to be quite exotic, awakening things within themselves when Halsin was in their sights. And it had been long since he felt the touch of another, the touch of you….

He felt himself take another deep breath as a flutter of the faintest nerves danced in his abdomen. He could not deny that the couple before him were pleasing to the eyes, and they were open and willing to invite him into their private lives for the night.

Halsin had willingly secluded himself to the bellies of nature almost entirely, like he was betrothed to it alone. But he was never promised to it. And right now that very nature was reminding him of the many gifts it offered. To deny it was to deny nature itself.

Halsin raised his mug to his lips and then downed the rest of the strong liquid once and for all. He kept his eyes on the pair as he did this and watched as the drow parted her mouth, her bottom lip seemed to quiver with an unseen gasp.

“Alright,” Halsin said, feeling a warmth pass through his torso as he agreed. “Just for the night.”

The drow clasped her hands with an excited giggle as the half-elf simply smirked and nodded his head. Halsin watched him rise, then extended his arm out to the side. “Let us lead the way, we rest our heads not far from here.”

Halsin stood from his seat and immediately towered over the couple, especially the drow. He heard a pleasing breath leave the half-elf’s mouth as his eyes swept over Halsin’s frame with unabashed praise. The druid noticed a few patrons casting curious glances at the trio as they strode through the tavern toward one of the exits.

Halsin’s long cloak swayed with him as he marched with confident strides through the streets while the pair occasionally glanced over their shoulders to ensure he was still there. But despite the confident advance in his long legs, and the even and focused expression he wore, Halsin’s stomach proceeded to twist and flip. It was not the first time he experienced such a feeling before acts of physical intimacy, but it was rare when it came to strangers. He was confident in his performance and cared not for the opinions and judgments of those he did not know, so why was a storm brewing within?

“We’re here,” the drow suddenly said, turning towards a grand, three-story home that was connected to a row of other houses and shops.

Halsin repressed his anxious thoughts and walked up the few steps into the house. Inside was warm, and the smell of pure vanilla and something unknown to him filled his nose, but it was sweet and inviting, sultry even. Halsin strolled further in, stepping on a rather expensive-looking red rug that covered dark brown flooring.

“This way, please.” The drow winked at him before strolling up a wide staircase with the half-elf on her heels.

Halsin exhaled, steadily aware of the rising beat of his heart. He followed them up the stairs, the steps croaking beneath his mighty weight. A breeze from an open window tickled his face and swayed his cloak as they reached the top of the stairs. The gentle song of windchimes rattled throughout the quiet house, save for the sounds of distant voices on the streets and the trio’s concentrated footsteps inside.

The couple led Halsin into a lavish, quiet room with several accents of reds and purples: the curtains, sheets, and various flowers adorning two massive wardrobes. There was a large bed at the center, decorated with bulky pillows and another red rug beneath the bed’s stand.

Halsin came to a stop but swayed slightly as a shift in his heartbeat caused a quick intake of breath. His stomach was beginning to tighten, much to his dismay, but he willed himself to force those sensations away. This was far from his first experience with couples— two at once was neither a challenge nor spectacle, so why was his body acting as such?

A sharp but quiet sigh drew from his lips at the feeling of the drow knowingly brushing her shoulder along Halsin’s side as she sauntered past him and toward the bed. She spun around once she reached the end of the bed, her movement slow and alluring. The half-elf gave Halsin a sultry wink as he came to stand parallel to her but with enough room in between. With a tantalizing smile, the half-elf gestured his arm towards the space between the couple, an invitation.

“Come, master druid, let us care for you,” the drow droned, a sultry purr calling out to him. Inside, the bear stirred, curious at the hint of long-dormant sensations being gradually stimulated.

Halsin half smiled, rolling his shoulders back which made him appear even taller, a powerful presence. “Remove your garments first. When there are more than one involved, it brings me pleasure to stand as a witness for a short time,” he told them with a confident pitch. However, his words were not entirely true.

While he did enjoy watching one rid themselves of the fabrics that shielded what nature blessed them with, he wasn’t one to linger on the sidelines much when other parties were involved, typically joining the affair with haste. But he felt the strangest need to give himself time, to ease the lurking monster of nerves threatening to simmer across his torso.

“Show me how you care for each other, and how you would wish to care for me,” Halsin said, the vigor of his voice deep and unintentionally commanding.

But this only seemed to entice the couple more. Obliging, the half-elf reached behind the drow’s neck and drew her in for an immediate, deep, needy kiss. A soft whine left her lips as the half-elf moved his hand to fiddle with the back of her constricting gown, loosening the ties and freeing her skin from its embrace. Halsin huffed a small pocket of hair, watching as her perky, lilac breasts bounced lightly. The half-elf groaned as her slender hands moved deftly over his buttoned trousers. With experienced speed and grace, the couple wasted no time freeing themselves from what few layers they wore.

Halsin readjusted his stance in response to a familiar twitch fueling his blood. The scent of a swelling salacity fluttered in the bedroom as the couple fondled and caressed the smooth, hairless planes of their bodies. Halsin quietly admired the curve of the drow’s body and the tight lines of muscle in the half-elf’s lithe physique. He watched her pull him into a searing, wet kiss, slowly reaching upward to thread her fingers through his short, black hair. The half-elf left her lips, gliding his tongue down her neck and chest before closing his lips over one of her violet nipples.

A satisfied sigh left her mouth as she tilted her head back, exposing her long neck. She yelped as the half-elf's other hand slipped between her thighs, and Halsin could barely make out his thumb running down the middle of her folds, disappearing within. His large chest rose and fell as he watched the pair, a low heat tingling over his skin. He could almost imagine the bear within rising on all fours, enticed to watch more.

The half-elf licked a long trail back up her chest, capturing her lips in another heated kiss. The drow chuckled lightly as she placed both of her palms flat on her lover's chest, halting him from further movements. “Patience my darling,” she murmured, nearly breathless. “We have another to pleasure tonight.”

The half-elf gave a closed-mouthed grin before releasing her. She turned away from him, her naked body facing Halsin fully, chest slick from her lover’s kisses. She was a beautiful creature, Halsin could not deny it. Nature was often incredibly talented with its canvases. Her eyes peered at him, dark with lust, cheeks already so flushed, and Halsin released an unstable breath as she sauntered towards him.

“Join us, master druid. Grant us your touch,” she purred, closing the short distance in little time. She placed a tender hand at the center of Halsin’s clothed chest. “Grant us the pleasures of your taste.”

A peculiar feeling cut across his stomach when she touched him, like a spark, but it was unlike one of sudden pleasure or pain. He couldn’t quite interpret it and cared not to, for it was fleeting, already gone the moment he started to ponder about it.

From behind the drow, Halsin caught the eye of the half-elf sitting on the bed, leaning back on his elbow, his bare legs wide open as he observed his lover and the druid. The half-elf reached for his long erection that rested on his thigh and began slowly playing with himself, as though in anticipation to watch his drow lover seduce and praise the druid.

“So thick with muscle,” the drow breathed as her hand traveled along the wide planes of Halsin’s strong chest. Her eyes roved over him appraisingly, and she leaned up towards his face, a soft gasp leaving her lips. “And such scars… a true fighter you are.” Her breath tickled his skin and a shiver ran down his back, accompanied by the same bizarre flip in his stomach. Still, Halsin felt himself swelling, breaching against the confines of his trousers.

The drow raised one hand to the side of his face and gently coaxed him to bend down towards her. Halsin caught a light floral aroma hovering over her skin as she rose on her toes, closing the distance. Her breath felt surprisingly cool as she angled her chin towards his mouth. Halsin watched her closely, her pupils so dilated with a brazen desire like she was already intoxicated from the exertion of passion before they even began.

With bated breath, he watched her eyelids close as her lips pressed softly against his own. Another flip inside his stomach, this time stronger, fiercer. A shiver rocketed over his skin but it wasn’t pleasurable, and his abdomen tightened. Halsin stood still, the wheels in his head spinning, his entire body growing rigid with each passing second. It felt bizarre, it felt wrong. The drow’s touch felt wrong, his body rejecting.

“You can kiss me, druid,” the drow murmured, smiling as she stared into his eyes after pulling away briefly. She leaned forward once more but Halsin drew back, causing her to gasp softly in surprise as her hand fell away.

“Perhaps this was a mistake,” he said, as gently as he could. All desire that was rising in his blood was rapidly waning, his heart pacing for other reasons entirely. Even the firmness of his cock began to reverse, the interest in what was to come no longer enough to awaken it.

The drow simply smiled, whining playfully. “Aww, don’t say that.” She bit her bottom lip, staring at his mouth with supreme volumes of yearning. “I can be slower if you’d like. I can ease all of the tension I know is trapped in those broad shoulders.” She reached for his face again—

“You cannot.” Halsin gripped her wrist, not enough to harm her but enough to seize her movements. The sternness in his voice sliced through the room, the aura of an Archdruid, destroying all flavor of the carnal atmosphere.

A flicker of surprise and fear flashed in her pink irises, and from the corner of his eye he noticed the half-elf take a cautious step towards them, eyes narrowed, but Halsin continued. “There is only one whose touch I crave most, and I will not find that here. May you both enjoy yourselves.” He let go of her wrist, then glanced once at the half-elf before turning his large body away from the couple and headed out of the bedroom.

The last he remembered was their dumbfounded stares as he turned to leave, having not a single care about what else they might have to say to convince him to stay. They still had each other, far more than what Halsin had, and that would have to be enough.

Halsin was already back outside, marching faster through the streets than he realized, ignoring all curious glances and stares along the way. The indecipherable noises, faces, and scents were a blur as he almost blindly strode down the stone-paved streets. His heart was hammering, his breathing coming in rapid, trembling currents. He needed to be alone again, to throw himself into the solitude that he should’ve never released in the first place.

His large legs brought him back to the lodgings adjacent to the tavern. He stormed inside, ignoring any greetings, and made his way upstairs where the volume from the streets became muffled. Halsin rushed through his door, slamming it behind him, and immediately fell forward against it. His forearm was leaning against the large door, with his head resting against the taut muscle.

He stared aimlessly at the mahogany floor, so incredibly aware of his blood rushing through his veins. “My heart,” he uttered, shakily. “I need you.” Images of your sweet face flooded his mind, the harmonious sounds of your laughter echoing in his ears, a faint memory.

Maybe two years was too soon, maybe he needed more time. He immediately buried that thought, there would never be enough time. “You are still all I want,” Halsin whispered, feeling his eyes starting to burn, naively hoping you’d somehow respond.

“Silvanus give me strength.” He closed his eyes, desperately trying to level his breathing, to calm his thundering heart.

It had been two years since he felt the true touch of another. Two years since he felt your touch. For someone of his lifespan, one would think he'd be immune to the effects of two simple years. But it was far from simple. Two years felt like two lifetimes without you by his side. Nature offered him a chance today to reap its bounties, but his heart was unmoved, his flesh disinterested.

One night. Just one night of rest, and he would gather his things and continue north to Icewind Dale. He’d trek deep into the wilderness for the next few weeks or months, alone again with nature and the memories of you. He’d spend his nights finding you in his meditations, and sometimes when he was exhausted enough, his dreams.

The thoughts alone sent a shrill up his back as he proceeded to conjure more images of you, imagining you standing right behind him, comforting him. Halsin sighed, deep, his body prickling at the visual of you running your hands up his abdomen, pressing yourself against him while you whispered alluring praises and admirations in his ears. 

He could almost feel it, the ghost of your touch, an airy sensation hovering over his long body, blanketing him in love and desire. A voice tickled his ear, breathy and sweet, and he let his eyes flutter closed, bringing his other arm against the door to better support his weight. His mouth curved into a closed smile at the faint sound of his name again, from a voice he adored from the moment it graced his ears a little over twenty years ago. Your voice, a sweet tune blessed by the gods themselves.

A sensation of peace washed over him at the feel of your touch, almost swearing he could feel the pressure of it as though you were truly right behind him. His heart thumped in his ear, desire coursing through him once again. With his eyes closed, he could picture you much clearer, could feel you better. “Halsin…” He swore he could hear you whispering right along the tip of his ear. And he sighed happily, smiling wider now.

“I’m here, my heart.” His words were soft leaving his lips, falling deeper into the image of you and the surroundings he created in his mind’s eye.

“Halsin?”

This time your voice sounded much clearer, like it was a part of his realm, his space. Halsin released a deep breath, blinking rapidly a few times like he was shaking off a daze. The memory of himself leaning on the door washed away like sand being called to the ocean.

“Halsin?” you asked for a third time, tilting your head to survey his face. Halsin blinked, exhaling as his warm eyes found yours.

You smiled, running a finger teasingly down his center as you held his gaze. “I lost you for a moment… It seems like we’re both experiencing much tonight.” You stroked his cheeks tenderly, speaking so softly and he immediately weakened at your touch.

Halsin, chuckling quietly, nodded in agreement. “It would appear so.” His brief laughter waned and he shook his head, slightly frowning, surprised at how overcome with emotion he was that he let his mind drift in such a way. “I never thought I’d feel your touch again, and yet…” he trailed off, breathing deeply as took you in, his entire being teeming with pure elation. “You are here and I fear my very mind and soul can scarcely handle it.”

Your hands were solid against him, real, no longer just a spectral touch of longing memories and fantasies. And though he was larger than you by far, it was your touch that he felt so unbelievably safe in, your eyes that he trusted more than anyone. He traveled dimensions for you, and he’d do it again and again, letting no god or cosmic force get in his way.

“Then let us ground each other tonight,” you said to him. He felt your thumb swipe over his bottom lip before resting at the corner of his mouth. “I’m with you, my Halsin. Are you with me?”

Halsin leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, never breaking his gaze. “I am with you, my love. I am truly, truly with you.”

Okay, part 5 was supposed to be the final. Taking a mini trip into what Halsin went through wasn't a part of the original plan, but I had the idea come to me literally a day after posting part 4 and I couldn't shake it! Our favorite druid went through a lot! Was this part necessary? Not really, but I think it makes the reunion all the more sweeter and powerful. And lastly, I mentioned a few names in this chapter: Neverwinter, High Forest, Icewind Dale. I'm sure some are already familiar with the names, but if it helps with the visuals of where these places are, I wanted to share a link of a map this awesome person created! The places mentioned are all on the west to north-western coast of the mainland, along the Sword Coast. Baldur's Gate is far below Neverwinter, in the middle of the coast. See you soon!

[tismtron]

“What would they be like if they had a boyfriend?”

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, use of words faggot, homophobia, situationships, most of these headcanons are unhealthy asf.

Reader: male AMAB

Pete Dinunzio

•Pete would keep your relationship very down low. It’s nothing like shame or internalized homophobia in his case, it’s to protect himself and you from the club.

•will the club beat the shit out of you for being gay, no?..will the deprecate and degrade you about it until your six feet under because their insecure teenage boys? Yes of course. And Pete knows this.

•Behind closed doors and out of the public eye he’s tender and loving. Binged horror movies with you even if you can handle them or not, thinking that you would get so scared of the movie, you’ll cling onto him as he embraces you type of trope.

•will bring you things from he was hanging out with the club like a cat bringing its owner what it found. In both cases being small dead animals and you gotta explain to this man why you don’t want nor can keep roadkill in your bedroom.

•If he’s shorter than you he would get a complex and always try to prove to you that he’s the macho man of the relationship eve if you told him that you don’t think any less of him because of his height. Although bringing up his height at all brings fuel to the fire. When just the two of y’all go on dates he will rap his hand around your waist while you’re watching a slasher at the movies.

•this guy is inexperienced in relationships like the rest of the virgin club and tries to get advice from horror flicks.

•He calls people faggot derogatory while infact being one of the himself.

•Pete does genuinely love you but he wants to be sure that you’re safe from the club.

Jerry Stokes

•Jerry is a sweetheart but the club find out sooner or later cause for one; Jerry is a bad liar, and two they snoop on each other if one of them misses a meeting. And when they say Jerry holding hands with a boy they didn’t know what to think.

•Jerry is neurodivergent. You know this. You’re aware of his vocal stims, hyper fixation on fantasy, and stims with his hands and body when gets worked up or excited about something.

•when you come over he’s over the moon the see you, but he has to hide you from his parents aswell cause I think his parents are more conservative.

•sometimes when the two of you make out or get intimate he vocally stims and he got so embarrassed but you said he was ok.

•the club clowns on him about it when they found out saying things like. “Now we see why you like fantasy you fucking fairy.” And calling him a fag when he tries to be the voice of reason to their dumb ideas.

•He doesn’t let you near the club because he doesn’t want you to think less of him or he’s friends to dog on you like they do to him.

•please let him rant on for hours about his fantasy games and movies and he’ll love you forever.

Bill Dicky

•Internalized Homophobia in the most incel way possible. He will date you but degrade you to push himself up on his ego. Will not do any pda or nickmaes in public, almost as if you two aren’t dating at all.

•But behind closed doors it’s very different. He’s never had a partner, so he can take what he can get, but got thrown in a loop when you were a guy. If he really likes you he’ll be more closer to you by standing next to you and talking to you more than others.

•Bill is a very insecure man. So when you started dating him he used you as reassurance that he’s a good person, and if you point out something he did that’s clearly wrong he will get so defensive.

•His mom knows about your relationship and is surprisingly okay with it. His younger sister actually thinks you would help Bill get better in some way or at least more tolerable to be around.

•he whimpers (WHO SAID THAT)

Josh Levvy

•Josh like the rest keeps your relationship more private. Mostly out of shame of being gay himself than you.

•His parents are Jewish and very religious. Josh is more willing to show you to his parents than his friends. His mom calls you a Sheigtez and Josh would fight for you and stand up for a you against his mom whether you want him to or not.

•The most odd conversations with Josh will mean the world to him. Y’all can be talking about nothing and Josh would cherish the moment.

•For his short temper he has a very low self esteem. The fact anyone is dating him makes him question why him of all people.

•will talk your ear off about Star Wars,Star trek, DC, you name it. And when he shows you his collection and lets you touch them you know your in deep with him.

[ween-kitchens]

meet me halfway

3511 words

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet. goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

honestly I just really wanted to write an 'oh' moment and I haven't written grumbo in a while, so here we are

tumblr formatting is being weird so if you see any mistakes, no you don't <3

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet.

goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

grian just kissed him. and mumbo kissed back, and- and he liked it, and now he wants more, and he might just have a name for that nagging warmth that has followed grian's laughs and his smiles and when his hand would brush mumbo's, and that's just- it's bizarre. but it's so incredible, and it's so awful, and there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- and oh, god there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- 

because mumbo might just be in love with grian. that- grian just kissed him, and now he knows- he knows the way it feels to have grian's hand against his waist, and he knows how grian's lips feel against his own, and he can never stop knowing- and there's no way mumbo can ever stop thinking about it, and oh god is he cursed to forever sit useless and lovestruck on this beach and watch as grian walks away whilst knowing all of that?

and grian doesn't know. grian doesn't know that mumbo has spent nights upon nights thinking of his face and wondering what it means, and he doesn’t know that mumbo replays the moment of every time he made him laugh in his mind on a loop, and he doesn’t know that mumbo is staring at the blurry outline of him and wishing desperately that sand was easier to run on so he could grab his hand and tell him it all. never in his life has anyone fit so perfectly by mumbo's side, and grian doesn’t even know-

okay. he should- he should probably take a second. wow- okay. gosh.

almost absentmindedly, mumbo rubs a thumb across his bottom lip, half imagining what it would be like if it were grian's thumb. oh- and now he’s flustered again. you know- he should really have taken tango's advice when he got it: don’t hang out with pretty men, you’ll fall for them way too quickly. and mumbo thought he was just being hyperbolic- what a fool he was! god- no wonder jimmy and tango are such idiots- they've been dealing with this the whole time!

and- oh goodness, grian just kissed him! he just- it's like a romance novel, and now mumbo is losing his mind in a completely different way, because- well, grian kissed him! he did the thing where- he pulled mumbo in by the collar of his shirt, and he kissed him, and- oh gosh, he’s going bright red again. this is so embarrassing.

mumbo pushes himself off the ground (and that's even more embarrassing- he fell to the floor when his crush kissed him. gosh.), fully prepared to be the worst possible cliche and run after grian, when the man in question looks over his shoulder. and something in mumbo's brain combusts when he realises that grian is coming back.

y’know what- he was wrong; this is the most cliche he’s ever going to get. grian is running towards him, and mumbo is running too, and he can just imagine the stupid slow-mo cinematic shot that the two of them are creating right now, and he doesn’t care, because all that matters is that he reaches grian. because he’s in love! mumbo is in love with grian, and- gosh, how crazy is that?

grian is barely a few metres away, and all mumbo can think about is that kiss. so when mumbo glances briefly (so briefly! barely even a second of glance!) at grian's lips, his already fried brain finally explodes, and all of a sudden mumbo is face-down in the sand. grian is laughing at him, and that's only making it worse, because now he’s both embarrassed and enormously endeared, because- wow, he really does love grian's laugh.

when mumbo looks up, brushing the sand out of his moustache, grian is knelt in front of him with that life-ruiningly fond grin on his face, and mumbo is going to explode again. "i’m- I shouldn’t have ran. i'm sorry- I didn’t even-"

"shut up for one second." mumbo says, out of breath, pushing himself up so he’s face to face with grian. 

their eyes meet, and it's as if the whole world goes silent as mumbo raises a hand to cup his face. grian is staring at him with that indecipherable expression, but when mumbo begins to pull away, he presses his hand against mumbo's, keeping it in place. it's so- it's all utterly bizarre, and in the best way possible, because mumbo is tracing grian's cheekbones with his thumbs, and grian is staring at him with nothing short of adoration, and mumbo might just be losing his whole mind because-

"I love you." mumbo breathes, watching the way grian's eyes widen with such interest. "I can't- I never even considered something like this could ever happen- I was so confused!" he laughs. "I had no idea- and then you kissed me and I- I still can't believe that, honestly. you! you’re so beautiful- and you kissed me!"

grian is laughing too, and he’s blushing- and oh goodness, mumbo made him blush, how incredible is that? "i've- you know, i’ve been lamenting to tango a little bit-" mumbo gasps in mock outrage. "i- no actually, i’m allowed, you’re an idiot. anyway, we agreed- you’re just as bad as jimmy."

"what? I can't be that bad!" mumbo exclaims, but in all honesty, he can’t help but agree a little. it- he may or may not have gotten distracted staring at grian's lips midway through his sentence; he’s a complete idiot—especially if grian is with him. 

"I- mumbo." grian says, surprisingly breathless, and mumbo looks up to see him flushed pink. oh. oh- was that- is that because of him? "you can't just- oh my god."

"you- I blame you for this!" mumbo feels his own face growing hot, stomach fluttering. "I wouldn’t have known if you hadn't kissed me!"

grian lifts a hand to mumbo's cheek, and mumbo's engine of a brain is shooting sparks once again. "how could i not?" he says, almost to himself as he rubs his thumb against mumbo's lips, who might actually explode this time. 

"grian," mumbo's voice is barely a whisper, and it occurs to him that they must have started leaning in at some point, because their faces are so much closer than they were a moment ago. 

apparently distracted by mumbo's lips (which- wow. that's- that is happening. okay), grian gives a little hum of answer.

"can-" mumbo puts a hand on grian's, and he looks up. there's a look that flashes across grian's face when their eyes meet, and it's almost smug—as if he knows just how much fire mumbo's brain is on right now. "can you kiss me?"

grian's lips twitch into a half smile, and he tilts his head, leaning in until their noses barely brush. "gladly." his breath ghosts mumbo's face, but before he has time to even process this, the gap between them is closed.

somehow, it's even better the second time. grian's hand is cupping his cheek, the other gravitating towards his waist, and it's all mumbo can do not to explode as he leans into grian. it's honestly unbelievable- mumbo wonders, as grian's hand rubs gently against his waist, if this is all just an incredible dream. this theory is quickly wiped from his mind, along with any other hint of rational thought, as grian begins to run his hand through mumbo's hair. y’know- if this is a dream, mumbo would rather not wake up.

after what feels like a lifetime—and yet far, far too soon—the two of them are forced to pull away for air. mumbo is grinning like an idiot, and grian is flushed pink but smiling just as much, and they just kissed! again!

"so- um. what- are we-" mumbo seems to have forgotten the english language mid-kiss. which- okay, that's embarrassing. he thought that was just something people made up for romances. "would you consider us to be- um. what- what would you-"

grian presses a kiss against mumbo's lips, very effectively shutting him up long enough to say, "I would like to be your partner. if- if you also would like that." 

for a moment, it's all mumbo can do to nod enthusiastically, and grian (being the incredibly rude man he is) cackles at him. "I- I would definitely like that." mumbo manages, smiling shyly.

"good." grian says, and mumbo can just tell he’s trying to sound calmer than he is. it's cute. mumbo wants to poke it. "because- I mean, it's not like you had much of a choice. you’re mine now- it's not really optional."

mumbo tilts grian's chin upward and kisses his lips, grinning as grian blinks in flustered surprise. "i’m not mad about that."

never has mumbo ever seen someone look so pleased and so indignant at the same time before. "you- you did that on purpose!"

mumbo laughs, and grian can't keep up the silly pout he was attempting. "of course I did! you kissed me- out of nowhere, and left me alone!"

"oh I see," grian says, clearly trying to stay annoyed, but he can’t stop giggling to himself. "this is revenge."

mumbo kisses grian's nose, watching with glee as grian turns even pinker. "of course not." he says unconvincingly.

"oh my god- mumbo!" grian buries his face in his hands, and mumbo cackles. 

"okay- i'll stop! i’m stopping, i’m stopping." mumbo grins, and- okay, maybe he just wants to see grian's face again. what, are you gonna sue him? you- please don't, actually. "i’m sorry- I apologise."

grian moves his hands away from his face, giving mumbo a suspicious look. wow- he really does know him, doesn’t he? "I don’t trust that voice." he jabs at mumbo's chest, grinning a little.

embarrassingly, mumbo feels himself turn pink. "I- well, is- would it be weird if I said I just wanted to look at you?" 

within an instant, grian turns more red than mumbo has ever seen him—apparently speechless, because all he does is stare as mumbo starts to laugh at his expression.

"it's just-" mumbo raises a hand to stroke grian's cheek, watching with delight as grian melts into the touch. "you’re just so beautiful." he murmurs, beginning to trace the outline of his jaw with the tips of his fingers. mumbo reaches his chin, and tilts it upward ever so slightly. "I can't believe I never.." he trails off, distracted by how soft grian's lips feel against his fingers.

grian looks like he could very well melt into a puddle; voice slightly raspy when he says, "mumbo, you- you’re killing me here."

mumbo grins, stomach fluttering at the fact that he flustered grian. "I did say it was revenge." he leans in ever so slightly, glancing very intentionally at grian's lips before pulling his gaze away. honestly, it's a marvel to see grian so shy- usually that's mumbo. "I just.." his smugness softens into something far more affectionate than he would ever admit again. "I love you."

"if- if you don't kiss me in the next five seconds," grian starts, entirely out of breath and positively beetroot-coloured. "i’m actually going to die, and it will weigh on your conscious forever."

mumbo tilts grian's face upwards ever so slightly, and- okay, maybe he’s taking a little longer to do this than he otherwise would. it's- in his defence, grian's reactions are just too incredible to let slip by; mumbo can’t just miss them. "well, since you asked so nicely." he teases, pausing just long enough to watch grian's expression shift to something simultaneously flustered and exasperated before he leans in. 

grian kisses him with the air of someone who has seconds left to live, and mumbo can’t help but melt into him as grian presses closer—nails digging bluntly into the fabric of his jeans. it's all mumbo can do to kiss back, brain turning to mush at the insane reality that grian is kissing him- and that he’s kissing him because he loves him. it's all- there's no possible way that mumbo is coming out of this with his sanity still intact.

all too soon, grian pulls back, and mumbo makes an embarrassing noise of complaint. their faces are so close, mumbo can feel grian's breath on his cheeks. he might just explode. "just- just to clarify," grian pants, and- wow. okay, that- wow. "is there anything you- you don't want me to do?"

"not- not in the slightest." mumbo breathes, and his voice sounds almost desperate. grian, apparently, seems to find this fact intoxicating rather than embarrassing. "maybe- i’d prefer you not to stop."

at that, grian presses a kiss to the corner of mumbo's mouth, smirking mischievously. "i’d never dream of it, mumbo." he whispers. oh, gosh.

within moments, they are kissing again, and mumbo sinks into it without a second thought—quite frankly, if he could make this last for all eternity, he would. grian must be noticing the way mumbo relishes his softness, because he has begun to cup his face, rubbing a thumb across mumbo's cheek. mumbo, of course, is finding it very difficult to think about anything other than that gentle touch through the haze of quiet breathing and comforting embraces, but- well, he can’t just let grian do all the work, can he? that- that would be rude.

grian makes a little noise of surprise as mumbo slips his hand into his hair, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, but within seconds, mumbo feels grian begin to melt against him. he has to admit- it's pretty cute—especially when grian pulls barely back to mumble, "is- is this revenge?"

mumbo can’t help but giggle at how red grian is, coupled with how pleased he is with- everything that's happening right now. "I- it wasn't my intention, but- y’know, it could be."

grian practically pouts, and mumbo is laughing even more now- which he doesn’t think was the intention behind that. "you’re so mean to me, mumbo."

"I- well, you- you were being so nice to me," mumbo says, feeling his face begin to warm as he watches grian realise what he means with delight. "I had to return the favour."

grian is grinning now, pout entirely forgotten in lieu of making fun of mumbo. "oh, mumbo-"

mumbo claps a hand over grian's mouth, enormously embarrassed by it all. grian continues to grin, but the fondness in his eyes betrays his true feelings. "that- we don't need to discuss it, actually. we can just- we can let the moment pass."

"i’m making a note of this in my mind." grian says. well- mumbo is pretty sure that's what he said, after all, his voice is muffled by mumbo's hand. "but- okay-" the look in his eye makes mumbo expect to be licked, and he moves his hand very quickly away. "hey!"

"you were gonna lick me." mumbo says, grinning at grian's offence. "weren't you?"

grian makes a sulky face, which is- far too pretty for his own good. "I was gonna kiss you." mumbo laughs, and grian's sulk drops almost immediately. which- frankly, the mischievous grin that replaces it should not be nearly as endearing as it is. "I wanted to watch your reaction—they're always cute." 

mumbo barely has time to give a flustered huff of a laugh before grian is following up with, "but I was going to say, I have been paying attention." he says, and mumbo finds himself reeling.

"you- I hadn't even- oh my goodness." mumbo scrambles desperately to locate wherever his brain has ended up, because it's very obvious that it has completely abandoned him by now. "you- you actually thought about- gosh." he buries his face in his hands, and grian cackles.

"well, I just- you always liked it when I held your hand." grian is saying, and his grin is so abundantly obvious in his voice alone- he’s so audibly pleased with himself for getting it right. "and tango- I mean. I won't pretend we didn't talk-"

mumbo looks up so fast, he may have almost given himself whiplash. "what did tango tell you?" he says, pointedly ignoring how funny grian seems to be finding this whole conversation.

grian is still laughing when he finally answers, "well, he- he may have hinted a couple things. I didn’t know you guys used to date." he takes mumbo's hand and raises it to his lips. "he mentioned on the off-chance it'd be relevant.." grian presses a kiss against mumbo's knuckles, and oh he’s just so smugabout it that mumbo could melt.

"I- I can't believe this." mumbo barely manages. he’s fairly certain his face is cosplaying a beetroot by now. "you two- oh my goodness. why- how would you even- when did that become a- a topic of discussion?" embarrassingly, it seems as if his voice has abandoned him, leaving mumbo stuck with squeaks.

grian blushes, and mumbo feels a little better about his own disastrous response. "I- okay, it- it's not like I talked about you all the time, but I- you came up.. a lot." 

mouth agape, it's all mumbo can do but stare for a long moment. grian, of course, finds this hilarious. "how would- I never even- are you kidding?"

"tango said you’d probably react like that." grian is grinning, and mumbo is going to dissolve. in a good way. 

"I- y’know, maybe I should start telling jimmy this kind of stuff about tango." mumbo is still embarrassingly breathless, and grian laughs. "see now he likes it."

grian leans forward and presses a soft kiss to mumbo's lips, eyes ridiculously fond. "I think he'd probably appreciate you helping him out." he grins. "how do you think I got the courage to kiss you?"

mumbo can’t help softening slightly. "well. maybe i'll forgive him." he jabs grian in the forehead, grinning as he squawks in protest. "once I forgive you for leaving me alone after you kissed me." he exclaims.

grian cackles. "I- look, okay, I was freaked out-"

"you were freaked out?!" mumbo half-yells, unable to keep from grinning along. "grian- you just- you kissed me, and then left! and then I had to realise that I was in love with you- and you left, so I couldn't even tell you-"

"I thought you were gonna hate me!" grian defends. "I couldn’t- but then I turned around and you were running, and immediately fell over-"

mumbo grins. "I just- I was thinking too much about you kissing me, and then I- I saw your lips, so-"

frankly, mumbo has never seen grian look so delighted in his life. "you fell over because you wanted to kiss me?!"

"I- well- kinda." mumbo says, heat rising in his face from both embarrassment and pleasure. "has that- is that just me?"

grian snorts, face reddening. "I- okay, I might- a week ago, I was. thinking about you a bit whilst me and jimmy were looking for crabs, and I wasn't- I forgot to pay attention, and I sorta. fell into the sea." 

mumbo laughs harder than he thinks he’s laughed in weeks, not even trying to regain his composure as grian cackles along. "oh- oh my gosh- grian!" he squawks, trying to catch his breath again. "what- what I wouldn't pay to watch that." he grins. "do I really have that much of an effect?"

"well," grian glances away, looking suddenly  embarrassed. "it's- you had that shirt, and you’d ditched your jacket 'cause it was hot, and- with the sleeves rolled up- it- uh. yeah." grian hides his face with his hand. "I got- I got distracted."

mumbo's face hurts from smiling so much, and he honestly doesn't care. "I- wow. I will be- i'll be making a note of that." he says, flattered.

grian looks back, grinning. "you’re gonna use this against me, aren't you?"

"who would I be if I didn't?" mumbo smiles, fonder than he meant to be.

grian leans forward and kisses mumbo, cupping his face as he does so. when he pulls back, mumbo finds himself chasing his lips—much to grian's amusement. grian tilts his head, smiling. "I love you."

mumbo turns his head to kiss grian's hand, stomach fluttering. "I love you too."

[revasserium]

hi rain! i've been a lover of your opla and l&ds fics for quite some time & i recently found out you write for haikyuu as well :) congratulations on 30!

could i request a kuroo fic? maybe something cute and fluffy? i've been struggling with falling asleep lately since a lot of things are happening all at once and it is a bit overwhelming, so perhaps him just gently talking the oc to sleep would be quite comforting. of course, this is all up to you so please feel free to change it as much as you'd like! thank you, and once again, a very happy birthday!!!

(i hope it's fine if i sign off using an emoji!) — 🪶anon

rain's b-day event!

sleep less

tetsuro kuroo; fluff

When sleep does not come, and it does not come, you resort to doing these few things:

Drinking some hot decaf tea, because Kuroo had once sent you a whole box from his travels abroad for the JVA, and because he’d told you that a warm drink helps wind the body down.

Closing your eyes, and remembering the last time you spoke, which was only a few hours ago, but god does it feel like forever — and you both knew long distance would be hard, but you were also both willing to try. Because what other choice was there than to try?

Calling Kuroo, smiling when he picks up on the second ring, his voice lilted into that teasing smile he knows you love as he says “What is it baby? Can’t sleep again?” And when you tell him yes, he tells you that he wishes he were there with you, wishes he could hold you, wishes he could distract you from the insomnia monster (because what else is it, if not a monster; and what else is he, if not your ever-loyal knight).

Closing your eyes (again), as Kuroo chats to you about his day, the depth and cadence of his voice as deep and clear as a sunrise sea.

Taking a few deep breaths, and telling him that you’re starting to feel sleepy, but that you don’t want him to hang up. “Alright then, I’ll stay on the phone with you for just a bit longer. But… if you start snoring —” “I don’t snore!” “Yeah, sure you don’t.”

It never takes long after that, because your body knows, perhaps better than your mind, that so long as Kuroo is here, it’ll always be safe to fall asleep.

final wc: 298 || be part of my taglist!

[starry-kittens]

⚠️POSSIBLE EYE STRAIN!!⚠️Idk I love neon colors, anyways

STEALING!! STEALING!!!!

[somegrumpynerd]

Before I forgetttttt

So color thinks Killer is brainwashed, BUT, what if one time when Killer's soul is normal and he can feel and think for himself again, what if they are chilling at Color's place and then Killer gets up and says something like "I have to go home, don't want to worry dad"

What would Color think ? Would he rethink everything because "wait, why did you call him dad ???" Or would he think that damn, this brain washing is even worse than he thought because apparently Nightmare makes them call him dad ?? Which is weird even for Nightmare that could be a manipulation method ??

Okay that's it byyyeee

OH I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THESE GUYS OKAY SO!!!!!

(I'm still new to Color so if I'm wicked super wrong let me know!)

I feel like no matter what Killer said about Nightmare, Color wouldn't believe it. If somebody's been held captive so long they no longer think they want to leave, of course they're going to say they like living there. No matter how much Color cares about him, I think he has to consider Killer an unreliable narrator as far as his own situation is concerned.

But! Color's main concern is giving Killer his autonomy back and helping him learn to make his own choices. This unfortunately means if Killer keeps choosing to go back to Nightmare, Color has to respect it.

I feel like the only way he would begin to slowly unwind and trust that Nightmare had good intentions would be to see it for himself repeatedly. It's going to take more than a few good turns to prove that he isn't just putting on an act when Color is watching and then turning the whip on them again when nobody's looking. That's going to be hard to set up though since neither of them want to be around the other very much lol

I do think a good start for it would be Nightmare giving Killer the choice though. Like, not that they don't get to choose things regularly, but Killer isn't really one to think much about what he wants or come forward with it so Nightmare kind of assumes he's content and doesn't really think to check in with him. So if he actually made a point of asking Killer what he wanted and he said he wanted to spend a day with Color, I think that would be a good start. Obviously Color's not gonna jump to trusting him after one day, but hearing that Nightmare is also giving Killer his own choices and actually respecting them might give him a bit more reason to trust him.

That said, the image of Color's face as he asks "he makes you call him dad??" is sending me lol

[fear-no-mort]

loving it keep it coming

[carmenpeach]

auroras and an io

[rainc0at]

I LOVE THIS FUCKIJG FILM SO MUCH EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS PERFECT

[lilgynt]

honestly fine with gale as far as how he responds and feels about counter violence to the capitol like i get why katniss is like i hate how he treats innocent human beings like they’ve personally responsible for his suffering and doesn’t know about taking a life up close like she’s right but also he’s thinking big picture during a war and doesn’t help most of his thoughts about the capitol or said war are proven right - like when he’s like is it safe to have everyone gathered here at the hospital and katniss is thinking yeah this can’t be healthy or encourage healing and he’s thinking no they’re gonna be targeted bc they can’t run and are useless for capitol use and bam what happens. he’s right in his own way half the time but what annoys the fuck me about him is him being like so pushy about his feelings even when he KNOWS katniss is completely oblivious to that kind of stuff and keeps blindsiding her with it and getting mad at her for not knowing what to do with that info even with the fact that she found out at like. the worst time of her life when she was stuck in a situation she would have a very hard time getting out of safely with everyone she loves and holds it against her she cares about peeta at all and the whole you only care about me in pain and all i could think is i’ll never compete with how much pain peeta is in so i lost it’s like so you understand how katniss operates is mostly out of concern and worry romantically wise bc she hasn’t had a chance to care about this shit outside of like oh who i am hurting/killing with my choices and then are STILL like im gonna kiss her then stop bc she’s obviously not into it at the moment for the right reasons and it’s like kissing drunk i get he’s like a teenager and is a dumb shit but also leave that girl alone for the love of GOD

[4giorno]

i think while varis's main instrument is the violin, his go to instrument for downtime is the lyre

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

If I See You Again Tomorrow

YA contemporary/light sci-fi

follows a boy almost a year into a time loop, who has almost given up on finding a way out

until a new boy shows up at his school - which has never happened before - and he’s motivated to step out of his monotony and maybe find a way out

exploring loneliness and social isolation