#now i wanna draw him in paladin armor....................... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pixelatedrose · 3 years

Note

read this and respond (if you’d like) when you aren’t in the car anymore, i don’t want you to get sick :0 !

you don’t apologize for not be able to write a lot! you didn’t have to answer my ask in the first place but it means a lot to me that you did :) also! i wanna say two things! one, i think i’ve said this before but i really like how you explain things. i’ve tried to learn how to play d&d and i think i’ve got a solid understanding of it, but it’s still hard when people say things like “10 AC”. but i don’t have to worry about that when you explain things cause you sorta dumb it down in a way that doesn’t make me feel dumb.. if that makes sense. two, i love how you showed callahan being healed in your drawing cause it just adds so much more weight to the picture. and i can’t even imagine how that fight was, dancing with death the whole time, that must’ve been so stressful. anyway! that’s about all, but you still have a lot of explaining to do (if you want and when you’re ready) mister >:0 i hope you had a lovely day and you enjoy the rest of your night, love you ro :)) !

1st: dw bout me answerin asks in the car lol I have no fuckin self control sksjshs

2nd: thank you sm m8!!! I know you've mentioned in the past that you don't play d&d or know a ton about it so I try and give little explanations where I can and it's great to hear that I do it in a non-patronizing way

3rd: heheheee okay so imma go into some more detail on the Callahan & Shade training session-

Okay, so.

To understand how we got to this point in time, we have to understand where he was

The party entered the Shadowfell- a mirror plane of existence where everything is contorted and dark and just about everything wants to kill you. This is where we were trying to get to when Callahan first joined the party.

Now Callahan didn't have a full grasp on what the Shadowfell was, really, when he went through the portal. The only one who did was Sylas, and by all the gods did he try to warn us.

Callahan was still so very very unprepared...

The very first fight in the Fell- one of the first battles Callahan has EVER been in in his life- he gets one-shotted by this monster and drops below zero hp.

When you drop below zero hp in d&d, you're Ina state of in between life and death, right on the cusp of either one and a breath's wrong move could send you toppling over the edge. You stay in this state of dying until one of three things happen. 1) you get healed. 2) you succeed three death saves and you stabilize. Or 3) you fail three death saves and you die.

Callahan had succeeded two saves, but he had also failed two. One last roll would have determined his entire fate, and I'm not known for having the best of luck when it comes to dice.

Sylas, our lovely amazing wonderful cleric boy, barely made it in time and slapped Callahan with a healing spell right after the monster died and he regained consciousness.

This...messed him up.

Callahan was absolutely shaken to his core at this very close encounter with death and he did not handle it well.

He got furiously angry, ignoring the fact that it was him that brought him to the Fell, and instead shifting the rage to the rest of the party and blaming them for his being there and, by proxy, his almost dying.

He...said some things...that shouldn't have been said. At least not like that...

And the worst part? It didn't get better. He was fitful and angry and upset at everyone for weeks.

Finally, Haru was done with Callahan's baby-bitchfit and when Callahan snapped at Monty (again), Haru got up and dragged Callahan out into the forest a little ways away from the rest of the party.

And what did he do?

Well he punched him.

Well, more than that. He told Callahan to fight back too. Soon fist-fighting turned into hitting each other with sticks, which turned into Haru having to tackle Callahan to the ground, leaving Cal the perfect opportunity to steal the dagger off his belt and ramming the pommel into his ribs.

Cal would like to say he won that fight. Haru would have something else to say.

After laying there on the ground for a moment, Callahan started to laugh. A sound that Haru had not heard in weeks, and one he didn't know he missed.

Haru explained that he wanted to teach Cal to fight so that what happened with that first monster? Where Cal nearly died?? So that that would never have to happen again.

Something about it- maybe it was something about Haru- calmed Callahan down.

And then it really hit him.

Oh fuck.

I've been a jackass for weeks to literally everyone.

It also started to hit him just how weak he really was in a fight if it ever came down to melee.

So they came back to the party together, Callahan happier than ever with little scrapes and lookin very roughed up (I won't say but the rest of the party did not in fact think they were sparring-)

Callahan apologized to Monty the next morning. The things he said specifically to him were...well...let's just say it hit harder for Monty than the others.

Monty wasn't as quick to forgive and forget. Callahan doesn't blame him.

However, that night Callahan and this new party member- Shade- were on a watch together. Now Shade is a much higher level than everyone else in the party, and is far far more powerful. He's a Hexblade Warlock, but he's also a fallen paladin (or cleric I can't remember) as WELL as a fallen Aasimar (kinda like a fallen angel but watered down). But...also probably a Shadow sorcerer?? Listen Shade is an amalgam of magic and power and idk where all of it comes from-

In any case, Shade is big powerful lad.

Now Cal and Shade are on a watch together, and Shade begins talking about Callahan's magic. He picks up a small opal stone from gauntlets he wears and focuses his magic into it. The opal glows with a black light and swirls with shadows of purple and black. He then hands the opal to Callahan and instructs him to focus his magic like he did.

When he does, the opal changes again, but this time, it swirls with bright, ever-changing array of fantastical colors. A rainbow of things that have never quite been seen before. It's extraordinary.

Shade explains that his own magic is that of the Shadowfell, it's dark and thus his magic is sewn from the shade. And then he explains that he's met other mages- ones with powers of the storm, magic of dragons- but he has never seen someone with magic like Callahan's.

Why?

Well, cause Callahan has pure, unfettered, untained, raw magic inside him.

It's an inferno of unbridled magic and it is completely and utterly entirely untamed. It cannot be controlled and it is as wild as the wind and earth itself. And sometimes, that uncontrollablity lashes out and surges forth, and sometimes things that Callahan doesn't exactly want to happen, happen.

And Callahan listens. And his heart sinks. Uncontrollable? Pure?? Absolute chaotic force of magic??? He can't stand the thought of not having a handle on his magic, because if he can't control it, how the hell is he supposed to use it to protect people??

He expresses this to Shade and the "older" man tells him that he can and should use this to his advantage.

At that moment, Callahan's magic goes wild and he surges. The wooden log they are sitting on, under Callahan's hand it starts to faintly smoke. Callahan doesn't notice, but Shade does. He cuts a small piece of rope and asks Cal to hold it for him. The rope errupts into flames and Callahan drops it in vibrant shock and distress.

Shade calms him down and explains that he can use that. He gets Callahan thinking. Asks how he can use this to help in in battle- he can set things aflame with a touch, for God's sake, what can he do to use that?

And Shade looks at Callahan's small scratches and bruises and scuffs on his clothes and turns and says "I know that look...you've been sparring, haven't you?"

Callahan nods his head. He says that Haru said he'd teach him how to fight, that he wants to- needs to- be stronger.

Shade asks if Callahan would like Shade to help him as well, help him learn how to use his magic to fight.

Callahan says yes.

They start small, Shade borrows Haru's sword in his sleep and gives it to Cal to use. Shade goes through the motions of explaining how he uses his magic to help him wear armor and wield weapons- how he manipulates the pull of power inside him into his blade, into his armor, how he makes them seem lighter and easier to use and wear.

And Callahan follows suit. He goes through the motions of swordplay, focusing and directing his magic into it. And slowly, it seems the blade gets lighter and light in his palm.

After a little while of this, Shade says that he would like to try something to really help Cal in the middle of a real battle. And he summons a demon.

Now, as Shade summons this demon, he explains that he has control over it. That the demon cannot do anything that Shade does not want it to do. The demon is not pleased with this.

In fact, with shadowy chains around its neck and wrists and ankles, it seethes and hisses and spits that it will tear and murder and shred Callahan and Shade to scraps. Shade reassures Callahan that he won't let it kill him. But he asks one last time if Callahan wants to do this.

And with a glance at this horrible creature with blood and murder in its eyes, Callahan's grasp tightens around his borrowed blade and he nods yes.

And so the fight begins.

Callahan uses his magic and filters it into the blade in his hands and tries to strike the beast. He hits it a few times, but the monster keeps hitting Callahan back, and he drops down to 1 hp.

As the demon cackles and pulls back for one final attack, Shade pulls down on the shadowy chains and restrains it. It howls in fury at this.

Shade asks Callahan if he wants to stop, that if he really wants, Shade knows a way to help Callahan keep going.

Callahan, bloody, sliced up, fighting for consciousness and blinking red drops from his eyes, hands on his sword in a white-knuckled grip, the blade digging into the ground as the only thing keeping him upright, looks Shade deep and deadly in the eyes, his goggles hung slightly cracked around his neck. His eyes have a burning flicker to them and with no hesitation to his words, he speaks. "I need to be better."

Shade takes a moment and the faintest ghost of a smile flitters onto his face and he says "That was the right answer." And he begins to heal Callahan with Greater Restoration.

Now, I could be wrong either with what the spell does or what spell he actually cast, but what happened with this spell was this: he could restore an incredible amount of hp to Callahan, but he would TAKE half the hp he restored as damage to himself. So if he healed Cal for 10 points, Shade would take 5.

This first time he ended up healing Callahan all the way back up to full.

And back to the fight they went.

This happened four more times, where Cal dropped below 10 hp and Shade had to stop to heal him for a moment.

Finally, Shade asked Callahan one last thing.

"I can do one more thing to help you learn the movement of battle, but it would mean releasing him. You don't have to do it, but-"

"You're wrong. I do have to- what would that make me if I backed down at the first sight of risk?"

"...you've made a good choice."

With that, Shade released the Demon, who was battered and torn and nearly as destroyed as Callahan himself, if not far far more. And he let out a ravenous cackle, full of craze and bloodlust and victory. And he looked Callahan directly in the eyes and told him "This is where you die!!!"

Four more rounds.

Callahan had messed up his magic once before in the fight and his magic had surged, giving him the ability to teleport short distances for the next minute.

And his magic messed up once again, poisoning a random creature near him. Luckily, it wasn't Shade, but the Demon was immune to poison anyway.

But as Callahan took hits, he dropped below 10 hp again, but there was no more looking to Shade for help anymore.

He took one last swing, a move of the blade that felt more dance-like than any sort of movement to kill, and he cut the demon clean a sunder- a trail of the blade that ran from one shoulder across to the bottom of its boney hip- and the demon let out a croaking, creaking, collapsing gasp of air that could have been mistaken for a strangled last cackle of defiance.

And then it fell over, a position of defeat that Callahan may have been had he not made the surer move.

And Callahan stood above it all.

Alive.

Alive and by his hands alone was his enemy gone.

Alive and by a blade he used with magic in his veins was he that way.

Alive and the victor over a demon.

Shade healed Callahan one last time, nearly collapsing himself from the loss of life energy. He managed to gain some of it back by summoning small imps that he then proceeded to suck the life out of, but it still took a bit of a toll on both of them.

They went back to the party where everyone lay sleeping, none knowing the exchange that had happened that night.

The spoke for a while longer, Shade telling Callahan of his past while casting the mending spell on his destroyed and torn clothes.

Their shift ended and they woke up the next pair for watch and went to bed.

And now did Callahan forget to tell anyone else about what had happened?

Yes absolutely.

Did Haru end up finding out because 1) Callahan had a fresh magical scar on his cheek and 2) Callahan forgot to give Haru back his sword?

Yes absolutely.

Was Haru pissed off that Callahan basically almost died multiple times and go into full protective boyfriend mode after he found out?

Yes absolutely.

Anyway long story time but I hope you liked it ;D

#spooky-scary-bumblebees #Bee!!!#the Weave of Silence #Callahan McBlithe #Shade Walker #ask me things #LISTEN I REALIZE I HAVEN'T BEEN THE BEST AT UPDATING Y'ALL ON THE ONGOINGS OF THE WOS CAMPAIGN #BUT ITS REALLY FUCKING COOL I PROMISE #i mean this is literally something that happened IN THE GAME so yeah I'd say its pretty killer #anyway sorry for the long read but i hope it was worth it !!!

3 notes · View notes

voltrontranscript · 3 years

Text

VLD S8E5: The Grudge

Season 8 Episode 5: The Grudge

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: The Paladins and the crew of the Atlas arrange to rendezvous to discuss how the Altean robeasts are able to wormhole and the destruction of Olkarion. Acxa and the Atlas crew are still getting used to one another.

[Google Doc]

Iverson: Who’s a good girl? You are. I used to have a dog like this years ago. Old Sally would follow me just about everywhere I went. I couldn’t turn around without her being there, smiling her big, drooly smile, which was actually a problem sometimes. I once tripped over her, slipped on her drool, and went shoulder-first into the refrigerator. Yeah, and that’s where this clicking came from.

Veronica: Is that why you were struggling with the pull-ups, sir?

Iverson: No, that’s because I’m old and overweight. And watch your insubordination.

Veronica: Yes, sir!

Curtis: Was the dog alright?

Iverson: She was fine, thank goodness. Yeah, that dog meant the world to me.

Veronica: I know how you feel. My brothers and sisters adopted every stray animal they could find. There was this one cat, “Flash” we called him. He hated everybody except me. Smart cat.

Curtis: What about you, Acxa? Did you have pets where you’re from?

Acxa: I never had a creature companion, but one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal cat named Kova. That cat gave her the ability to experience the world.

Curtis: Oh. That’s great.

Acxa: Until Lotor killed Narti and we had to abandon the animal on our destroyed ship so we could escape without being tracked.

Shiro, on PA: Crew, report to the bridge immediately.

[Cut to Iverson, Coran, Curtis, and Veronica entering the bridge.]

Shiro: I’ve got an incoming transmission from the paladins. Go ahead, Allura.

Allura: Atlas, we’ve managed to track down an Altean robeast.

Coran: You found one!

Shiro: Where is it? Did you engage the creature?

Allura: Unfortunately, we were too late. It attacked the Olkari and stole the remains of the weaponized cube.

Coran: Is Olkarion okay?

Keith: No. Olkarion is gone.

Coran: No.

Allura: The loss of Olkarion is devastating to us all, but we were able to acquire some vital information.

Keith: We learned from Olkarion that the robeasts have been traveling via wormhole, which leave behind unique energy signatures. Pidge created a program that can identify those signatures and pinpoint their exact locations.

Allura: We’re sending over the readings from Pidge’s program now.

Coran: Are you telling us these are all robeasts?

Pidge: We’re not positive, but they could be.

Allura: There’s more. After studying the map, we noticed the signatures all radiate from a single epicenter: Oriande.

Coran: Wait, so Honerva could be on Oriande? But I thought only worthy Alteans could get there. Could she have the Mark of the Chosen?

Keith: There’s a lot we don’t know. We need to rendezvous to come up with a plan.

Coran: The Baltuf Nebula would make a good rendezvous point for both of us.

Keith: Send us the coordinates, Coran. See you soon.

[Scene transition to the mess hall.]

Veronica: Acxa! Come join us. So, how did you meet the paladins?

Acxa: I met Keith when I was stuck in the third stomach of a Weblum. He saved my life.

Rizavi: What were you doing in a… stomach?

Acxa: Gathering scaultrite to help enable Lotor to conquer the universe.

Rizavi: I once got stuck in a ball pit when I was a kid.

Veronica: Well, what do you think of the crew? It must be a pretty different dynamic being that we don’t try to kill each other, huh?

Acxa: I suppose, but the Galra had an expression: “Combat is the searing light that burns away imperfections.”

Ina: It would appear the mood at this table has become rather awkward. Most likely due to your Galra lineage. Yep. Definitely… awkward.

[Cut to Shiro in the bridge.]

Keith: Atlas, we had some technical difficulties. We’ll be delayed.

Shiro: Copy that. How long?

Keith: We’re still assessing that. Might be a few hours. We’ll keep you updated.

Shiro: Roger that.

[Scene change to the lions approaching a black and red planet.]

Pidge: Coming up on rendezvous point, straight ahead.

Hunk: Anyone else find it odd that Shiro changed the rendezvous point to this place?

Pidge: I’m reading high CO2 and low oxygen in the atmosphere. We’ll need our suits to breathe if we go out there.

Hunk: I’m not going out there.

Keith: They’re here. Atlas, we have a visual. Paladins, get airborne immediately! This is a trap!

Hunk: It’s just like when we were caught by those pirates!

Lance: We’re about to be captured again!

Keith: Emergency ejection!

Allura: Atlas, come in!

Keith: Atlas, we’re under heavy fire!

Pidge: The Atlas isn’t receiving our communications!

Hunk: The beam has the Lions pinned.

Allura: We must have been set up. But by whom?

Pidge: Guys, we have incoming. It’s closing fast.

Hunk: We need to lose it!

Lance: Isn’t there anything we can do to throw it off our scent?

Pidge: Yeah, I’ve got an idea, but I need a minute.

Hunk: I’ll buy you some time.

Pidge: Got it. It shouldn’t be able to detect us anymore.

Lance: Then let’s get out of here!

Hunk: Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Keith: I need something to draw its attention!

Allura: I’ve got it!

Lance: Huh, good job, Keith. I mean, I was just about to do that, too, but that’s cool.

Pidge: I might be able to hack into it.

[Scene transition to the Paladins gathered around the drone.]

Pidge: This is Galra tech, but it looks like it’s been infused with Olkari elements. The subatomic microfilament is single modulated before it goes through its attenuator. Wow!

Hunk: So, it’s pretty amazing, huh?

Pidge: Yeah.

Hunk: Oh, look at that, it’s single modulated, not double modulated. Huh.

Pidge: Oh, shut up, Hunk! This thing has been locking onto our key encryption protocol that’s built into our suits and bayards.

Keith: How did they get that?

Pidge: I don’t know. Only a genius could do it.

Lance: Can’t we just turn our suits off?

Pidge: Negative. And if the drone had our encryption protocol, then so does that cruiser and anyone on it. If we want to avoid detection, we need to lose our suits and our bayards.

Allura: Remove our armor? In this place?

Hunk: Has anyone read the atmosphere? Oxygen low, CO2 high. We’re not gonna last long, a few hours, tops. We need our suits to survive.

Keith: Yeah, at this point, we’ll survive longer without them.

Lance: So keep our suits on and risk getting blasted, or take our suits off and live long enough before dying from poisoned air.

[Scene transition to the Galra ship hovering over the planet.]

Olkari Technician: Sending you the drone’s last known coordinates now.

Captain: We’re going after them.

Fentress: Why would we do that? It’ll risk the entire operation. We already have the Lions. The paladins have no value.

Captain: They do to me. We’re going in.

Fentress: But we--

Captain: I am the captain, and my authority will not be questioned! You do as I say, or you will spend the rest of your miserable days right here on this planet. Is that understood?

Fentress: Yes, captain.

Captain: Do not let those lions move. No one takes them until the hunt is over.

Olkari Technician: Yes, captain.

Captain: And make sure the Atlas stays put.

Olkari Technician: Copy that.

Shiro: Keith, any updates on your ETA?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): We’re finishing some repairs and about to get underway. We’ll update our ETA when we’re en route.

[Scene change to a shooting range on the IGF-Atlas.]

Acxa: I know you have little trust for me, but your constant presence is tiresome. If you have a problem, let’s end it now.

Veronica: Acxa, it’s not that I don’t trust you.

Acxa: Then what is it?

Veronica: Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you.

Acxa: By sneaking up on me at a firing range?

Veronica: I didn’t sneak up on you.

Acxa: Only because I’m always aware of my surroundings.

Veronica: Look, I’m sorry that I may have been following you around. It just seems like you could use a friend. I know it can be hard to fit in sometimes.

Acxa: I’ve spent my entire life not fitting in. I’m used to it.

Veronica: Right.

Acxa: I was an outcast, born and bred in war. The only way I survived was to become worse than my enemies.

Veronica: I don’t care about what you may have done in your past. I know there’s more to you than that.

Acxa: But some people only see Galra, and I understand why. Sometimes even I question if my people have the ability to change.

Veronica: By choosing to join the coalition, you’re living proof that it is possible. I guess I wanna get to know the Acxa who turned her life around. I have a feeling everyone would like that person.

[Scene change to the volcanic planet.]

Hawkins: They’ve abandoned their suits. Now how are we gonna track them?

Bounty Hunter: We hunt them the old-fashioned way.

[Scene change to the Paladins walking in their undersuits.]

Pidge: Are we sure the Lions are this way?

Hunk: Every direction looks the same.

Pidge: Oh, what I’d give for a GPS right now.

Allura: We cannot allow ourselves to panic. Clearly, we’ve relied on our tech far too much. We need to focus if we’re going to get out of here. Okay, I’m lost.

Hunk: What do we do?

Lance: Our Lions are that way.

Pidge: How do you know? Do you have a scanner you’ve been hiding?

Lance: No, I just looked at the volcano. It was on our left when we came in, so I put it to our right side, and that’s the way out.

Allura: You’re a genius!

Hunk: Oh, snap. Well done, Lance.

Pidge: Uh, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Lance: Hey!

Pidge: Ah!

Allura: More drones?

Lance: No, look!

Bounty Hunter: They’ve split up. Stay on their trail. Get them!

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress.]

Hawkins: We’re on the trail of four of the Paladins right now.

Captain: Which four?

Hawkins: The Altean, the big one, the tiny one, and the loud one. They removed their armor to throw us off their scent, but we’ll have them soon.

Captain: Good. The one I really want is this way.

[Scene change to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Olkari Technician (as Keith): Apologies for the delay. We experienced a glitch in navigation. I will have to get back to you.

Veronica: Everything okay out there, Keith? Do you need help from the Atlas?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): No assistance required, thank you. Lance will figure it out.

Veronica: Right, Lance, the navigation genius.

Keith: Affirmative.

Veronica: How long have they been delayed?

Iverson: They should have arrived when we did.

Acxa: Something doesn’t seem right.

Curtis: Look at this. It looks like their frequency has been pinging off a decoy. I’m intercepting it now.

Paladins, overlapping: Atlas! This is an emergency! Atlas, come in! Atlas, help! We’re under attack! It was a trap!

Iverson: We need all hands on deck immediately!

[Scene change to Keith jet-packing along the volcanic planet, then the Bounty Hunter and Hawkins as they chase Hunk and Pidge.]

Bounty Hunter: You think I forgot about you, tiny Paladin? I’ll make you pay for what you did to me!

Hunk: We need to hurry. They’re right behind us.

Pidge: The CO2 is poisoning us by the minute, and we don’t know where we’re going. We can’t keep running.

Hunk: Okay. What do we do?

Pidge: We have to make a stand.

Bounty Hunter: Your brother isn’t here to help you this time. And I’ve upgraded since we last met.

Hunk: Woah! Alright, nice work!

Pidge: Found the Lions. This way.

[Scene change to Allura and Lance running through a cave.]

Lance: Okay, if my volcano logic is correct… the Lions should be on the other side of this--[grunts] Allura, get out of here. Go!

Pirate: Looks like she left.

Pirate 2: Don’t worry, we’ll find her for you.

Lance: Thanks.

Allura: The Atlas!

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Veronica: That’s where the ghost protocol is emanating from.

Shiro: Hit them with the electromagnetic pulse.

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress walking in the forest.]

Fentress: Squadron Z, come in. Squadron Echo, come in. HQ, come in. HQ is not responding and the other pirates are offline. I never signed up for this!

Captain: Well, you’re in it now.

[Scene change to the loading dock on the IGF-Atlas.]

Olkari Technician: Sophisticated hacking and jamming abilities. Impressive. It’s nice to find others on my level.

Shiro: Yeah, it’s terrific. Now where’s your leader?

Olkari Technician: I don’t know. I lost her signal when you attacked. But she’s out there somewhere, hunting down the Paladin you call “Keith.”

Acxa: And who exactly is your leader?

[Scene change as Fentress gets surprised by Keith, who then stumbles into the Captain.]

Keith: Zethrid?

Zethrid: You took Ezor from me!

Keith: I don’t know what you think I did.

Zethrid: You took away everything. And now my face will be the last one you see!

James: Does anyone have the shot?

Rizavi: It’s too risky!

Acxa: Zethrid, don’t do this!

Zethrid: I knew you’d come. Now you will feel what I felt.

Acxa: It’s over. You’re surrounded.

Zethrid: You think this deters me, Acxa? I welcome death now that Ezor’s gone.

Acxa: Zethrid, I know you hurt. Ezor hurt, too. That’s why she left you. She couldn’t keep holding onto the anger.

Zethrid: Stop!

Acxa: Hear my words. Remember how we first met. We were all so full of hate and rage, half-breeds rejected by the Galra. Lotor used us. He led us down a painful path, a never-ending cycle of destruction and loss. Now’s your chance to break that cycle… with me, with Ezor. She wants you to leave the rage behind.

Zethrid: I’m too far gone. She’ll never take me back!

Acxa: Wait! Please! Don’t let the rage control you.

Zethrid: All I have left… is revenge!

[Scene change to a holding cell on the IGF-Atlas, where Zethrid and the Olkari Technician reside.]

Zethrid: You waste your time, Acxa.

Acxa: I know you’re angry, but I refuse to give up on you. And I know someone else feels the same way.

End.

#vld #voltron #transcript #keith #acxa #lance #shiro #iverson #pidge #hunk #allura #coran #james #rizavi #veronica #fentress #olkari technician #bounty hunter #hawkins #curtis #ina

9 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 3 years

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Fourteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains graphic depictions of abuse. Stay safe!]

"This would be so much easier if you would just comply , Vega." Maxson sneered.

"How the fuck else am I supposed to comply? Danse never told me he was a synth, Maxson!" Backhand protested, glaring up at the young man as best as she could with his boot pinning her head to the floor.

Across from her in the brig Brandis floundered against his shackles, the older paladin clearly furious but unable to articulate around his gag.

Maxson ignored him, leaning down and applying more pressure to the side of Vega's head. "My patience is growing thin , Vega. I refuse to believe that he did not confide in you. You're the only person who's been in and out of the Institute, no doubt keeping that traitor apprised of orders from the masterminds of his true agenda."

"After everything that Danse has been through, I can't even believe that you would think he's a threat to the Brotherhood! Whether he's a synth or not!" Backhand retorted hotly. "So what if he is one? Synths can be rescued , wiped, reprogrammed with new identities. They aren't all infiltrating units, some of them are-"

Maxson hauled her to her feet, shoving her back against the wall. The rivets of the brig ground through her Vault suit, making Vega grunt in pain. "You certainly have a lot to say in the defense of synths, Vega." He hissed, taking a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look at him.

At the tearing sensation on her scalp, two hundred-plus years abruptly melted away for Backhand. She was suddenly in the pristine kitchen of their first apartment and Nate , shouting as loudly as any drill sergeant, throwing his briefcase in frustration, grabbing her neck and dragging her--

No . She had fought back then and she could fight back now. Backhand jerked her head to the side, not caring whether she lost a handful or two of her hair. "Get your fucking hands off of me!" She snapped, and Maxson's gloved fingers slammed shut around her throat.

"You would disobey the elder of the Brotherhood?" Maxson asked, a sinister smile twisting his mouth as Vega choked for breath. "I think your insubordination deserves repayment in kind."

...

When Danse awoke, he was incredibly disoriented. His hands clenched tight into the blanket that covered him as he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, feeling his breathing stutter as he tried to remember what the hell had happened.

Haylen . The message the scribe had given him. Confusion. Terror. Panic . Crushing it all down, I am a paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel I have sworn an oath protect sisters brothers skills weapons body --

Finding the munitions. Elizabeth Knight Vega damn it departing to report back to Maxson, the paladin knowing almost definitively that she had no idea about what he was, about the hideous truth of his existence. Her giving him her lucky bandanna, wrapping it around his neck like a scarf, touch light and tender.

Fleeing the Sentinel site, abandoning his armor, the deathclaw, the walk of shame that culminated in...God, was he really a synth?

M7-97 .

A synth . With a sinking feeling in his gut, Danse cast his mind back over his first memories yet again, growing up alone in the Capital Wasteland …

If he wasn't a synth, surely he would have something more concrete than a hazy record of empty locations? Something tangible, maybe an encounter with a friendly trader or a scuffle with some other children, something . But nothing seemed solid until he got to the memories of opening his junk stand in Rivet City. Eerily similar to what Sturges had mentioned. At that point he had been an adult for several years, or at least he believed he was--

God, his head was pounding . He was so confused. Danse pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying in vain to rub the tension away.

"Oh, you're awake! Good."

Danse jerked his hands down, shoving himself half-upright on his elbows. His confusion only intensified when he realized that it was Mrs. O'Brian who was currently hovering in the partially-intact doorway, the woman pointedly keeping her distance.

"Wasn't sure how fighty you'd be when you woke up." She said by way of explanation, "you looked like you'd been through hell."

"Where am I?" Danse rasped.

"At the O'Brian homestead, just a little ways south of that Oberland settlement. How do you feel?" She queried.

"I…" Danse paused, taking a mental inventory. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. His face and shoulders were, admittedly, worse. Bandages pulled at his shoulders, the fabric wrapped over and under his arms. "I'm in pain, but the levels are manageable." He muttered, struggling to swing his legs over the side of the bed. "I have to-"

"Whoa whoa, hold it! I did a lot of work getting you all fixed up, you're absolutely not movin'!" Mrs. O'Brian scolded him, waving her hands in front of her like Danse was a rampaging brahmin. "You are going to sit and heal, so help me God, if I have to strap you down to do it!"

"Citizen, you don't understand . Having me here puts you in danger." Danse's brain finally caught up with the rest of him as he remembered, "you have children , a family, innocents--I shouldn't be here." He said in a panic, trying to stand again.

M7-97 .

Mrs. O'Brian scoffed, stomping over to the bed and giving Danse a careful shove in the middle of his chest. He was immediately knocked prone, his back hitting the mattress hard enough to make him grunt. "Don't give me that shit, Mr. Paladin. You're all kinds of banged up and you're not goin' anywhere ." She instructed him firmly. "Trouble might have been followin' you before, but you've already been out for two days and we haven't received any visitors."

Danse blinked dully up at her. Two days . His stomach growled abruptly, hunger pangs digging in on top of everything else.

"Now, you just sit tight and I'll get you some noodle soup, alright?" She patted his arm calmly, a fair contrast between her previous attitude. "If trouble comes, then trouble comes. Until then, we'll focus on getting you back to your old self."

He was almost too weak to move, aside from adrenaline-fueled bursts. Danse felt anxious, skittish, frantic . What the hell was he going to do?

He had to leave. But where could he go? He could return to the Capital Wasteland. Or maybe he should head north instead, run to the untouched expanses of Maine or the mountains of Vermont.

He had to leave. He couldn't stay here.

M7-97 .

He should be dead.

"Mrs. O'Brian," He began carefully when she returned with the soup. "You don't grasp the danger of this situation. I'm a s…" His voice hitched. "A...a synth ." Danse finally forced the word out, speaking it aloud and solidifying it as reality. His empty stomach pitched violently.

"That's nice. You can just call me Katie." The woman replied absently, patting his hand. "Should we get in touch with the Railroad?"

" What? " Danse asked incredulously. " How can you be so nonchalant about this? I should be dead , I'm a monstrosity -"

"Mr. Paladin, what you are right now is a hungry and scared man. So hush up and eat your soup." Katie interrupted Danse gearing himself into an elaborate diatribe. "If you were supposed to be dead, you would be." Her eyes were almost as green as Brandis', and she narrowed them at him. "I don't doubt that if you could have done the job yourself, you would have. And since you haven't ," she continued pointedly, "I'm going to assume you won't."

Danse mulled over her words as he slowly consumed the soup, more water than broth and noodles. She was right, he realized. He was too afraid to end himself, and too cowardly to wait to be destroyed.

M7-97 .

What the hell was he going to do?

…

He tried to slip away the following night, but his attempt was foiled by Mr. O'Brian's watchful eye. That and the fact that he was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Hell, just tying his boots up had almost made him pass out. He knew deep down that it was idiotic to attempt to leave while he was in such a sorry state, but he kept imagining the sound of vertibirds drawing near and the fear that the O'Brians could be in danger because of him kept him from getting any meaningful rest.

The older man startled Danse out of his skin when he cleared his throat from his shadowed spot beside the door. "I had a feelin' you might try somethin' dumb like this." He remarked, shaking his head while Danse cast wildly around for a way to explain his current ambulation. "Have a seat, big fella'."

"I can't stay, Mr. O'Brian. If the Brotherhood-" the paladin began desperately.

"Call me Tom, Danse. I'm of the impression that we're in this together now. If trouble finds you, then it finds you." Mr. O'Brian interrupted him, inadvertently echoing his wife's sentiments. "Personally, if it was me in a jam, I'd much rather I was surrounded by people that care about me when trouble comes callin'."

"I'm trying to leave so that you don't need to get involved-"

"No, you're tryin' to leave because you're hellbent on runnin' from this problem." Tom's expression was sharp in the warm glow from the lantern. Danse had no idea whether Mrs. O'Brian had told her husband that their unanticipated guest was a synthetic freak . "You wanna' get the hell out of here, maybe go back to the Capital Wasteland and pretend like nothin' happened. But the weight of the truth is heavier than any sin, Mr. Danse. You'll figure that out. I hope for your sake it's sooner rather than later."

"Mr. O'Brian, I...I don't know what to do ." Danse admitted softly, sinking down into the rickety chair beside the other man in defeat and putting his head in his hands. Everything ached.

"I can tell, son. You're all tangled up like Katie's balls of yarn. I don't have the answers for you. All I know is that runnin' away only prolongs the trouble." Mr. O'Brian rose slowly, muttering about his old knees. He clapped a hand on Danse's shoulder in passing. "The O'Brian family doesn't give a flying fuck one way or another about whether you're a synth, got it? And if anyone else in the Commonwealth has any sense left in 'em, they'd be wise to follow suit."

Tom left him to think beside the door, and Danse was there until sunup the following morning.

...

The O'Brians homestead consisted of an acre or so of land and an old, half-collapsed commercial brick building just outside of Forest Grove Marsh. Danse had apparently crash landed on their proverbial doorstep that fateful morning, though he didn't remember much after he had passed out.

Tom and Katie had eight children, four sons and four daughters of varying ages. They ranged from the eldest, a boy named Eamon who was nineteen, to the youngest, a tiny girl named Siusan who was almost a year old. Between them was Thomas Junior (known strictly as Teej), then came the triplets of Connor, Matthew and Bridget, and the twins Kathleen and Fionnula.

Danse had never had such a difficult time remembering names, consistently stumbling over Fionnula while the three-year old patiently coached him.

It didn't help that Connor and Matthew looked exactly alike, as did Kathleen and Fionnula. Bridget at least wore her hair longer than her identical brothers, so that gave Danse a fighting chance amongst the triplets.

Eamon was tall and lanky like his mother, while 'Teej' was on the stockier side like his father. All of the children were freckled and sported either blue-black or dark brown locks, further adding to Danse's predicament.

As the days turned into weeks and the paladin slowly regained his health, he found himself automatically settling into the schedule of the O'Brian family. It was comforting to have a routine. Maybe that was the military in him. Rise before daybreak, milk the brahmin, gather the laundry, weed the crops…

His nose mercifully healed as good as new. No visible damage remained aside from a small mark at the peak of the bridge, right between his eyes. His shoulders were much the same, functional even though they were now graced with long, jagged lines of scar tissue from where the power armor frame had collapsed. Danse knew he was incredibly lucky to have escaped from a deathclaw so unscathed.

Tom managed to find a few old pairs of jeans that would fit Danse somewhat after the paladin expressed his concern at his threadbare jumpsuit. "From my younger days!" The older man claimed, tugging Katie close and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Back when I had to stay in shape so that my beautiful bride wouldn't grow tired of me."

Katie chuckled, swatting Tom's arm. "If you thought a few extra pounds would scare me off, you don't know me very well." She teased.

Clad in blue jeans and a tattered assortment of too-small hand-me-down flannel shirts, Danse almost fit in. Almost. He still held himself a bit too rigid to really get away with assimilation, but Katie assured him he at least looked the part. He was still certain to make himself scarce whenever company came calling, not wanting to bring trouble to the O'Brians.

He refused to be deadweight to the already-struggling family however, and as he was not exactly gifted in the areas of agriculture and animal husbandry, the paladin quickly fell back on one of the many practical skills he possessed.

Hunting.

Only armed with his service pistol now, the man was up well before dawn on the days he stalked prey. He avoided the roads as much as possible, sticking to the brush. The last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to himself and, in turn, the family fostering him. Occasionally he was accompanied by Teej or Tom, both senior and junior relatively skilled hunters in their own right. Through their combined efforts Danse was able to contribute a bit more protein to the large family's diet, while simultaneously balming the concerns that he had about being a burden.

Eamon was a quiet, peaceable young man and helped Katie manage the younger children while Tom was away. He was adept at settling squabbles and redistributing toys to keep the peace. Danse couldn't help but picture him becoming a knight and sponsoring countless fledgling initiates.

He then felt idiotic for still thinking about young people and children in the Brotherhood way, as if they were all destined to be military assets thrown at the next enemy. Danse slowly forced himself to recalibrate, doing his damnedest to imagine a world where a gentle man could still have a future. Maybe Eamon would be a teacher, or a merchant in tandem with his mother's wares.

Matthew and Bridget were all but attached at the hip, the two of them dogging Danse's footsteps and peppering him with questions when he was in the yard or weeding. The paladin had taken over a ramshackle trailer that sat across the road from the homestead as 'his', and the two children were always eager to visit as soon as he sat down on the front step in the mornings with his cup of coffee. Connor was a little more shy, hanging back from his outspoken siblings.

Bridget was the first one to demand that Danse show her how to shoot. "Papa won't. He says I have to be twelve." She huffed. "But I'm almost twelve, and that's like being twelve."

"I'm sorry, little one. I can't go against his orders." Danse tried to soften the blow by asking her to teach him how to do something, which was how the paladin found himself learning how to make a poppet out of dried corn husks. Not exactly a practical skill, but he supposed he could do with a few less conventional lessons.

Connor actually approached him while he was being instructed, the normally-timid boy offering him a few pointers to make the task a little less challenging. "I'm not good at braidin' like Brigey, so I gotta' hold the ends real tight." He mumbled, tiny hands miles more deft than Danse's had ever been pushing and pulling his fingers to get the arms of the doll tucked properly.

Bridget praised Danse just like her mother praised her when she accomplished something, and the paladin got a little misty at the notion that his own tendencies towards praise while he was in the Brotherhood might have made a few of the aspirants more inclined to be encouraging to their fellow soldiers.

It was hysterical to be supported by a child for his proverbial 'field work', but the way Bridget's little brow furrowed sternly told Danse that she was deadly serious and he should take her as such.

"You are very patient for someone your age." Danse commented, holding up his latest attempt for her inspection.

"We gotta' work together, Mr. Danse. Mama says I'm the strong one, Matt's the brave one and Connor's the smart one." She replied, squinting at the length of husk he had tied around the body of his little creation. "Almost! You're getting better and better." The thin girl clapped her hands like she was applauding him and Danse couldn't help his sad smile.

"Show me again, please?" He requested.

…

Vega had no idea how many days it had been.

After Rhys had brought Brandis' evening meal (and snuck Vega something in the process), the knight had whispered that Maxson seemed to be waiting for something when it came to dealing with the two 'dissenters' in the brig.

"Not sure if he's trying to use her to draw the Institute into attacking us directly? I just don't get it." Rhys swallowed hard, glancing over his shoulder before continuing, "According to our field reports, Danse is dead. They bagged him out in the Sea and incinerated his body."

Backhand had been expecting this news, but hearing it aloud felt like a kick to the stomach. She sobbed out once before she could help it, drawing Rhys' attention back to her.

" Fuck , Vega, I'm so sorry." The knight apologized tremulously. "He sponsored Haylen and I, he was fucking selfless and loyal to the cause. I don't...God, I can't believe he's gone."

"Rhys, this cannot be allowed to continue." Brandis declared, "we are being held without trial, without evidence! Maxson has no right to-"

"Anyone who questions his judgement is threatened with the same treatment Vega is getting." Rhys interjected dully. "None of us know what the hell to do , Brandis. The consensus is that we need to forcibly eject him, but no one person seems to have the balls to do it." The knight tipped his head forward in shame. "Not even me. If something happens to me, I don't know what might become of Haylen and I...I can't risk it. I'm sorry, Brandis. And Vega, you don't deserve this shit."

"Don't apologize, son. I'll...I'll figure out something." Brandis replied sadly, letting the knight re-shackle him as loud footsteps heralded Maxson's approach to the brig.

"Out of the cell, Knight Rhys." The elder ordered sharply, his voice sending a new frisson of scalding fury through Backhand's battered body.

He killed Danse .

"Maxson, how long do you plan to stand on ceremony like this?" Brandis queried as Rhys obediently departed. "This is not justice! "

"I see the knight forgot to gag you again." Maxson shrugged. "No matter. Nothing that you say will have any real impact." He tugged open the cell door and sauntered in, standing over Vega's crumpled body. "We slaughtered that abomination out in the Glowing Sea." Maxson chuckled in a self-satisfied manner. "It thought it could run from us."

Backhand squeezed her eyes shut tight against the hot wave of tears that threatened to spill over, forcing herself to focus on the rage instead. "You're a real prick, Maxson." She rasped.

Maxson caught her arm and roughly yanked her upright from the spot where she had collapsed previously, gripping her shoulders in a pantomime of a caring embrace. "We incinerated it and cast its ashes to the wind." The young man answered smugly, those cold blue eyes boring into her own when she mustered up the strength to raise her head.

" You ," Vega seethed through her teeth at the elder of the Brotherhood, "were a fuckin' god to Danse, know that? You could do no wrong in his eyes. And you killed him ." The reality of it hadn't wholly set in for her yet and she clung to the rage she felt, nurturing it into a grudge in her chest. "But you're not a god at all, are you Arthur? You're just a scared little brat who got too much power too soon." She spat.

Maxson ground his teeth, grabbing her by the throat yet again and slamming her back against the bars of the gate. "Keep testing my patience, Vega, and we'll see who the scared one is!" He roared in threat as she struggled weakly in his grip.

...

The celebration dinner for Siusan's first birthday was surprisingly elaborate. The entire house was decorated with garlands of hubflower and ash blossom, painstakingly woven together by Matt and Connor. Katie had been baking with Eamon and Kathleen for the past two days, stockpiling a variety of sweet treats for the youngest family member's fête.

Danse, for his part, had done his best to stay out from underfoot. He helped Tom move several of the old tables together, and obediently smoothed the wrinkles out of the faded purple tablecloth that Katie asked him to cover the tables with.

Vega never even got to have this with her son , he thought somberly. No birthdays, no celebrations...nothing. First the divorce and then the war, one right after the other .

It was a saddening topic to think about and Danse found himself distracted by it. The fact that she had been so thoroughly robbed of raising her child, despite her oft-voiced trepidation of whether she was a good parent...

Well, there was nothing he could do about it, was there?

That night Siusan sat on her mother's lap at the table, staring wide-eyed at the child-sized mutfruit pie that was just out of her reach while everyone in the family sang her Happy Birthday .

Danse hung back in the doorway, feeling a little awkward until Katie urged him in. Fionnula immediately clamored that Danse had to sit next to her. Sandwiched between Kathleen and Fionnula, Danse slowly relaxed enough to smile and even laugh once or twice, his own attitude affected by the collective high spirits of the O'Brians. It reminded him of being at Sanctuary and with a melancholic pang, he recalled the simple meal he had shared with Elizabeth and her makeshift 'family'.

Not a day passed that he didn't think about her. Her smile, her voice, the pleased flush she got when he praised her performance in the field, her selfless nature...

Danse had convinced himself that she was better off without him, though. The Brotherhood would allow her to achieve her future goals of totally breaching the Institute's defenses, hopefully letting her enact that master plan of freeing any synths that wished to be freed. He just prayed that the Brotherhood wouldn't override her and decide to wholly eradicate the Institute instead.

Maybe once he got himself far away from the Commonwealth, he could send her a message. Something simple that wouldn't compromise her position. Would she even care, though?

Danse, lost in thought about Elizabeth once again, didn't notice the young man looming in the front doorway for several minutes. Not until Tom called, "Garvey! You're just in time for pie, pull up a chair!"

Preston removed his hat politely and Danse felt his heart plummet to his boots. "Evening, Thomas. Katie. I'm afraid this isn't a social call." Lieutenant Garvey said calmly. "I'd like to speak with you outside, Paladin." His eyes were flinty despite his mild tone. Dogmeat was at his heel, the large German shepherd's ears flat against his skull.

Danse surprised himself by nodding, the paladin rising from the table with a murmured apology. "I'll return shortly." He promised Matthew, the little boy looking like he might pitch a fuss. Danse then followed Preston outside, barely resisting the urge to jam his hands into his pockets and hunch his shoulders like a squire waiting to be scolded.

What he didn't expect was Preston's next sentence. "Alright, where the hell is she?"

Danse blinked at the other man, suddenly confused and off-balance. "I don't understand." He said finally.

Preston huffed angrily, "The general , Danse! She's been missing for weeks now, ever since you and your little tin soldiers were all getting prepped for heading to the Sea!"

Danse was sure all the color had drained out of his face. Was he going to pass out? Did something like him even have the ability to pass out? No, no, he had been unconscious before. But did that count as actual unconsciousness-

He grabbed the side of the building to steady himself, his voice shaking when he pleaded with Preston to explain. Dogmeat whined, licking at Danse's hand.

"How the hell do you not know?! She went missing on your watch!" Garvey protested. "She hasn't been seen at all, Danse. Not at any settlements, not around the airport... nothing . It's been a big fat radio silence."

"Oh my God." Danse's voice was frail.

"You...you really didn't know, did you?" Preston asked incredulously. "What are you even doing out here anyways? Shouldn't you be at the airport with the rest of your troops? I thought Dogmeat's nose had busted when he led me here ."

Danse opened his mouth, then hesitated. The reality of being a synth was something he was still trying to come to terms with, but lying to Garvey would no doubt make everything worse. "Lieutenant Garvey, I must confide in you." He fixed his attention firmly on Preston's boots. "Some information was discovered after the first journey into the Institute. Something pertaining to me. I of course, was not made privy to such information before we had departed for the Glowing Sea, but another individual of the Brotherhood managed to tip me off in time. When last I saw Vega, she was returning to Waypoint Echo on foot per the elder's orders. After we were separated, I...I was fired upon." He said gruffly, the words filling him with a morose sensation.

"Whoa, wait a minute. Danse are you saying you're a-" Preston lowered his voice, "are you saying you're a synth? " His heart hammering in his throat, the paladin raised his eyes to Garvey's and nodded wordlessly. "So what happened in the Sea, then?"

"We reached our target and cleared the area without incident. She was under orders directly from Elder Maxson to report back immediately once the area was secured. I was tasked with guarding the munitions. I was attacked by my own troops, so...I fled." Danse confessed.

" Damn . That is...that's a lot , Danse. She had to report straight back?"

Danse nodded. "Correct. Maxson was very firm on that."

"You don't think your elder guy would have...I dunno', locked her up or something?" Preston suggested, pointing out, "You disappearing probably looked pretty bad. She'd be a suspect."

The paladin swallowed hard, this new realization crushing down on him. "I had not considered the ramifications my sponsorship would impose upon her." He rasped. " God , Garvey, I didn't think...I didn't...I thought I was doing the right thing. Hell, I should have let myself be slain. I'm an abomination , I'm everything that I signed up to eradicate. Of course they would--God, I'm so sorry, if they suspect her, I..." His thoughts were a tangled mess, loping this way and that.

"Don't be sorry yet." Preston grumbled. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Danse? She's the only way into the Institute. I can't just let her cool her heels on that fancy balloon, not when we're so close to taking the Institute down!"

"If I had my armor, I might be able to sneak into the airport. But I don't." Danse said unhappily, burying his fingers in the thick ruff Dogmeat sported. "If I go anywhere near there without some sort of protection, they'll just gun me down. Kill on sight."

"Now's not the time to consider a sweeping policy reform, unfortunately. If we got you a suit…" Preston trailed off, then changed the subject. "Pack whatever you have. You're coming with me."

"Right now?" Danse asked.

" Yes , right now!" Preston retorted sharply. "The hell is wrong with you, man?"

"I just...I'll need to say goodbye, that's all." Danse felt immensely awkward, but he pressed on, "The O'Brians have been extremely kind to me during my prolonged stay in their residence."

"Oh. Oh . Okay, yeah. Go ahead. But make it quick!" Garvey blustered, jamming his hat down a little.

Danse crept back into the O'Brian family dwelling, his footfalls muffled by a rousing rendition of The Ants Go Marching that Siusan was enthusiastically enjoying. This struck Danse as odd, seeing as how the only ants he had ever seen were the size of stray dogs. And why on earth would ants trouble themselves about the rain? Most of the irradiated insects seemed to love it.

He managed to catch Tom's attention and pull him off to the side, explaining in low tones what was happening.

Tom surprised him by punching Danse lightly in the chest. "I'm shocked it took you this long to get your head straight." The older man chuckled. "Go get her, Danse. Paladin Danse."

...

The trek to the Castle, or rather Fort Independence, took almost six hours. Preston avoided a majority of the destroyed roads, the both of them tensing up every time they heard the whirring blades of a vertibird approach.

"They shouldn't be able to see us without using the searchlights." Danse informed Preston as Dogmeat flitted behind the supports of a ruined overpass. "They have no methods of thermal detection."

"I'm still not taking any chances." Preston grumbled. " I've got people counting on me, Danse." Danse fell silent at that, just following after the Minuteman and keeping his mouth shut.

I've got people counting on me .

Once upon a time, that had been Danse. An example to his brothers and sisters, the pride of the Brotherhood. Now, he skulked through the darkness like a fugitive. A traitor to his cause. A liar, by omission or by ignorance. A fraud .

Danse wiped at his eyes, frustrated with his own weakness. How the hell was he such an emotional wreck? He was a machine for God's sake. It was hardly fair that everything in him was screaming that he was human when he had already been backhanded with the empirical evidence to the contrary.

M7-97 .

He gritted his teeth, exhaling through his nose. He didn't have the luxury of contemplating his humanity at this point in time. Maybe someday, once everything had sunk in, he would be able to examine himself from a critical stance. But for the moment, it needed to be compartmentalized.

"If I cannot reacquire the general," he began cautiously, "perhaps I can still be of service. If I am a synth, maybe there's a way for me to…" A lump rose in his throat. "Return, I suppose? Breach their defenses accordingly?"

Preston hummed thoughtfully. "Vega did mention a synth reclamation department. And coursers , the guys sent out to reclaim the escapees." He shuddered, his grip tightening on his musket. "She had to put one of those bastards down to get what she needed in the first place. It was brutal. She said he almost killed her. I guess they're made for hunting synths or something?"

Danse felt sick to his stomach, remembering Vega talking about the courser mourning the loss of his friend. "Well, we have the option," He muttered, "should the need arise. Proctor Quinlan often said that the best edge is the unexpected one."

The walls of the Castle solidified against the night sky and Danse caught the scent of the sea on the breeze, the smell refreshing his memory of finding Vega half-dead in the Minutemen's crumbling excuse for a fortress. It appeared that they had done extensive renovations since his last visit, however.

"Well well well, look what the lieutenant dragged in!" Sturges chuckled without humor from beside the outermost guard tower, his eyes uncharacteristically narrowed. Danse didn't miss the way his grip on his old rifle tightened. "You've got some explainin' to do, big fella'!" The cheer in his voice was decidedly hostile.

"Stand down, Sturges." Preston said wearily. "We need your help. You still got that suit you were working on?"

Sturges chewed on his answer for a moment before he finally nodded. "Garvey, you'd better not be suggestin' what I think you are." He gestured up at Danse with the hunting rifle.

"We don't have a lot of options, Sturges. He's been kicked out of the Brotherhood." Preston replied curtly.

Sturges did a double take. "You uh, wanna' run that by me again sir? The holiest of rollers was kicked out? What the hell did you do? " The mechanic asked Danse incredulously.

Danse swallowed hard. "It would appear that I am...less human than I had been led to believe." He stated, trying to choose his words with care.

"Well, physically anyway." Garvey tacked on grudgingly.

Sturges' mouth curved into an 'o' as the truth dawned on him. " Ho then. That uh, explains that. Damn. Damn . But...shit. So where the hell is the general?" He muttered, as if to himself.

"According to Danse, he's been on the run since their foray into the Glowing Sea. That was also the last contact he had with General Vega." Preston explained.

"I've heard about how damn wild the Brotherhood gets over synths. How the hell did you even escape?" Sturges queried, his tone suspicious.

Danse cleared his throat. "One of the soldiers I sponsored tipped me off right before we set out into the Glowing Sea. Scribe Haylen saved my life. Originally I assumed that Vega was to be my executioner, but it turned out that she had orders from our elder to return as soon as we have verified the location." Danse paused. "We were separated and shortly thereafter, the Brotherhood attempted to end my life."

"Just like that?" Sturges gawked. "How long you been Brotherhood, Danse? Good ten years? Fifteen? I can't even believe that shit. Pitched to the wayside on account of some fuckin' speculation!"

"Not speculation, if Scribe Haylen's information was accurate." Danse corrected the other man. "My DNA matched the DNA of an escaped Institute asset known as M7-97."

" Escaped , though. So you're a Railroad refurb like me, you ain't some shitbag infiltrator unit!" Sturges protested, ushering Preston and Danse further into the courtyard. "How could they just try to snuff you? Brotherhood's gone balls-deep this time."

Danse hadn't actually thought about it like that, but he supposed it made sense. He wouldn't have been listed as escaped if he was assigned to infiltrate the ranks of the Brotherhood, that wouldn't make any sense. It was almost a relief to realize that maybe, just maybe there hadn't been some ulterior, coded motive behind him joining up with the Brotherhood. That and the fact that there wouldn't have been someone he was replacing.

So for all intents and purposes, he was the original and only Paladin Danse. A comforting thought.

Sturges wasn't done though. "If you're here and Vega ain't, that means your boys in armor have her. If she ain't dead, of course." The mechanic mused. "Might be that they thought she was in on your little secret and capped her instead of botherin' with interrogation."

"I would greatly appreciate if you would not suggest that Vega is dead, Sturges." Danse's palms started to sweat, his breathing rough for a moment. Calm down, calm down .

"Well I'd greatly fuckin' appreciate if she wasn't dead neither, big fella', but until we know for sure…" Sturges shrugged. "Anyway, to work. Got a real cherry suit here, a little pet project of mine, and if you're goin' to that airport, I imagine you'll want some protection."

"I'll need it just to get near to the damn place at this point." Danse mumbled.

Sturges' grin was a little less hostile this time. "I think you'll like your chances."

Part Fifteen

#fallout 4 #fallout four #spoilers #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #Eventual romance #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #paladin danse imagine #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #fo4 paladin danse #preston garvey #fo4 preston garvey #brotherhood of steel #canon-typical violence #slow burn

12 notes · View notes

enderprtl · 5 years

Text

chasing down the devil part three

we are Not Done (there’s one more part too), here is part 3 of me and @betweenlands‘s shadow au fic (by the wonderful @mine-sara-sp) for reason you shouldn’t piss off the shadow-vex

p.t 1// p.t 2

WARNINGS FOR FIC: BODY HORROR, ANOTHER BIG ASS FUCKING FIGHT, BLINDNESS (APEX CAN’T SEE).

iii.

Scar’s shadow and Paladin stood in eerie silence over Apex’s sleeping form, both heads tilted in curiosity at the aggressive shadow (who was currently out cold).

Paladin kicked him with their foot. “He’s strange.”

Scar’s shadow just hummed in response - its partner had come back with nasty wounds, the magnum opus being a gouge in the center of the shadow. Paladin, of course, had found it hilarious, sticking a shadowy hand through the hole, giggling wildly as the two shadow-vex conversed. The knight had begged them to be able to go see Apex, wanting to see if the shadowy arm Avarice had described was still there.

It wasn’t.

Paladin kicked Apex again with their foot, backing up quickly as Apex stirred. Paladin giggled. “He’s waking up! Keloid, look!”

Apex dragged himself up off the ground, head snapping towards the sound of Paladin giggling, lip already curled into a snarl. “Keloid. Move closer so I can kill you.” He still couldn’t see - the visor wasn’t exactly organic, it wasn’t going to grow back onto his face.

He could feel Keloid’s cold glare in response. “Why? I could easily crush you here. You cannot see.”

Paladin giggled softly, skipping across the room, dragging their fingers across the gouges in the wood. “Did you do this?”

Keloid stared down Paladin with disappointment, and Paladin’s grin fell into a soft pout - he went and stood behind a decaying statue, blending in with the shine of the room.

Apex pushed himself up further, onto his knees, standing shakily without his sight as he tilted his head to the side, tried to pinpoint where exactly Keloid - Scar’s shadow, it had to be - was. He took a step forward, pounded one fist against his battered chest.

“I can still move. You aren’t safe.”

Keloid laughed - not a garbled or glitchy sound, but something soft, real, like Scar’s loud, jovial laugh from a room miles away. It stepped forward, using a hand to hold Apex’s jaw firm, making him face it eyes on.

“You have no weapons, you have no eyes. You are useless, android.” it said, voice a glitchy and droning sound.

Paladin smirked from their hiding spot. “What did you do to Avarice?” They climbed up the statue and sat criss-cross atop it, leaning forward.

Apex tilted his head towards the sound of Paladin’s voice, twisted his face into a grin. “Move a little closer and I’ll give you a demonstration.” He grabbed at the hand he knew was somewhere near his face and held onto Keloid’s arm with as tight a grip as he could muster. “Unless you wanna volunteer, shadow-vex?”

Keloid let out a low growl, only to compose itself. It wasn’t going to act a fool, not like Avarice; it tightened its grip on his jaw, another free arm holding up his right arm, gripping it with malice. Its voice was still soft, emotionless. “It came out of this one, did it not?”

Paladin kept giggling, their head rolling back with a loud laugh that bounced around the room and grated against Apex’s ears. “I want to see him do it! Keloid, make him do it!” They tilted their head and pouted, wide yellow eyes going wider.

Apex gritted his teeth, curled his free hand into a fist, tried to step closer to Keloid. He couldn’t see anything - his vision was filled with yellow light and pretty much nothing else - but he knew generally where the shadow-vex’s body mass was, now. “Why d’you want to know? Cub’s shadow is the bruiser out of you two, do you really think you’re going to survive this fight?” He spat towards the ground, doing his best to glare up at Keloid without actually having eyes.

Paladin giggled, jumping down from their little seat and skipping over to stand right besides Keloid - they looked over the dull and blurred yellow outlines of Apex’s eyes before drawing closer to him. “Oh, don’t underestimate Keloid! It looks harmless, but it could kill you in a sundry of ways!” They poked his cheek, voice too cheerful and bright, and he lunged at them - a bit too slowly, though, his hands caught nothing but empty air.

“So can I,” he snarled.

Paladin cackled, a cheerful, almost terrifying laugh - it bounced off walls, it rang in Apex’s ears… and it was infectious. He felt the ends of his lips pull up into a smile, fought back hard against the urge to laugh and instead curled his grin wider and angrier.

He lunged again, wrestling out of Keloid’s loosened grip as he smashed directly into Paladin, grabbed them by the shoulders. “You wanted to see what I can do, huh?”

Paladin grinned. “You fight dirty.” They tilted their head back, then smashed the bridge of their helmet into his face. “So I think I will too.”

Apex felt his nose break, saw stars against the yellow background of noise on his blind eyes, and something in him snapped again - he started laughing, a low, garbled chuckle as he wiped his face off, as his jaw distorted out of place. “All right. My turn.”

He pulled Paladin closer, yanking them forward by one arm as he raised his right arm again - felt it distort and crack, a new limb clawing out of his shoulder as his ordinary arm hung uselessly by his side - and slammed one shadowy fist into their face, knocking them flat on the ground.

Paladin spat something yellow, the shit-eating grin growing wider on their face. They reached up and brought down their visor, whistling softly. “Whoops.”

Something yanked Apex right off Paladin and slammed him into a wall - the thick, glitchy growling coming from it confirmed what he suspected, Keloid had ambushed him. He rubbed his head, pushed himself up off the ground once more, tried to figure out where the two enemy shadows were in the haze.

"This is what I mean. Your precious little Paladin really can't fight someone who's blind and wounded on their lonesome? Gotta help them out?" Back to his feet. One shaky step forward. "Trophy got a little rusty all locked away with nothing to fight? Pathetic."

He took a deep breath in, then roared again, as loud as he possibly could - felt his mouth open further than it should’ve been able to, teeth where there should have been none, he was screaming at the top of his lungs with a thousand voices in chorus - "COWARDS!”

Keloid snarled, baring every fang in its wide mouth and swung at Apex, talons extended in a flurry of blows, going at his strange arm, every blow getting more aggressive than the last.

Paladin giggled wildly, “Keep going!” They scrambled on top of a pile of rotting metals, watching the fight from a fair distance. They pulled their visor up, wide yellow eyes watching the shadow-vex claw at armor and shadow. Each hit made them erupt in a flurry of cheers and wild laughter, metal clinking against metal as they clapped, their grin growing unnaturally wide.

Apex was getting sick of that stupid laugh. His vision was still gone, but… just faintly, in his haze of anger, he could make out a fuzzy grey shape among the blinding yellow. A bit of a stretch away... it had to be them.

"Shut UP," he growled, pivoting on his heels and lunging at the distant shape. Keloid's claws came down on his back as he turned - leaving a scar behind, he was sure it'd hurt when he wasn't totally enraged - but he slipped away from the shadow-vex and barreled towards the wavering grey silhouette of Paladin.

Paladin laughed, and stood up, boots sinking into the pile of metal underneath them. They pulled out a thin, shining yellow blade and raised it up, waiting patiently. As Apex’s form barreled closer, they stuck just a sliver of tongue out, and brought the blade down slashing into his chest.

He didn't flinch. Didn't even pause anywhere but internally to register the pain of yet another wound on his body. He probably should've died by now, but that wasn't going to stop him - Apex was running on nothing but spite and rage and pure energy at this point.

He grabbed Paladin's sword-hand with his shadowy arm, let out another roar as he tightened his grip, aimed their arm back, and forced their stupid glinting sword into their chest point-first, pushed it right through their armor. "Shouldn't have done that.”

Paladin cried out in pain, eyes narrowing as the blade dug deeper, then looked up, smiling. Claws dug into Apex's back as Keloid once again grabbed him by the shadowy arm and pulled him off Paladin, throwing him into a pile of metal.

It was getting harder and harder to stand up again, but that's what Apex did - slowly, shakily. "I told you. As long as I can still move, you aren't safe." The wound across his chest hurt even more than he'd thought it would now that he was actually bothering to register the pain - he wobbled on his feet, but managed to stay upright.

Paladin pulled the blade out of their chest as their grin fell quickly into a pout. Keloid growled and stepped forward… and then stopped short.

It paused, stared over the wounded shadow, at the thousands of gold scratches on grey and black. Fragile. Glass-like. A stained glass picture of a bird, two bright yellow gems for eyes, its wings broken off from abuse and wear. Keloid hunched over, picking up Apex gently. It tilted its head curiously, and began to leave the room. Paladin stared in shock, hands now on their hips, “What are you doing? Keloid? Keloid!”

Keloid ignored the knight, walking out of the room. Paladin ran out, following the shadow-vex, eyebrows knitted, eyes locked on Apex’s blind ones.

Apex, for his part, was not enjoying this one bit. He struggled weakly against the vague shadowy blob holding him, trying to escape Keloid’s grasp - unfortunately, though, while it was holding him gently, this was still a firm grip, and every single motion he made was starting to hurt. He scrabbled at the ground with his shadowy hand, trying to pull himself away, but Keloid just kept moving. And frankly, he was too exhausted to ask where it was taking him or why.

Keloid slammed a free arm onto a button and a door clicked open, pistons creaking as the entryway slid open. Paladin walked in and groaned - this was their vault. The room with their diamonds, their gold, emeralds. All of their shiny things. Keloid placed Apex down with uncanny gentleness. “Be nice,” it said, looking over towards Paladin.

Apex was not feeling nice. The second his feet touched the ground of the new room, he lunged at Paladin again, lurching somewhat unsteadily on the new terrain. He didn’t have the energy left to actually say anything, but the snarl he made was a fairly obvious declaration of his intentions. As far as he was concerned, he’d been moved to a new arena - and he was still going to kick the snot out of Paladin, make them regret messing with him.

Paladin wasn’t in a good mood, either. Keloid put the shadow that’d stabbed them in their room, and told them to “be nice”? They weren’t in the mood to be nice, no, they wanted this shadow out of their room. The piles of gems began to rumble as they backed up from the charging shadow. Their pout fell even further - they weren’t acting anymore, they wanted this stupid shadow gone.

Paladin backed up against one wall as piles of gems started to shift around them and the gold chandelier began to sway in circles. They were angry; angry at Keloid, angry at Apex, angry at everything and everyone that wasn’t them. Paladin wailed, their foot slamming into the ground. “It’s not fair!”

Two dozen emeralds flew through the air, somehow reacting to Paladin’s explosive tantrum. One sliced right past Apex’s cheek - he couldn’t see these projectiles, and another one hit him blunt-side first in the stomach. Still, he stumbled forward, even as another emerald caught his shadowy arm in its elbow, ripped through so hard that it dissipated.

Paladin was outright frowning now; Apex had made them ruin perfectly good emeralds. They stomped forward, every step closer to Apex making more and more gems bounce higher into the air. They grabbed him by the collar, spitting in his face as they yelled at him.

“You’re ruining everything!”

Gems got pushed back in waves like a shockwave tearing through the room, pushing gems and statues up against the wall and spinning the chandelier in circles. Apex just gritted his teeth, grabbed Paladin by the helmet with one hand and slammed his fist into their face. “You’re going to regret taunting me,” he spat back. “I don’t lose my quarry.”

Paladin pushed Apex back into a pile of gems with surprising force. The diamonds and emeralds were sharp - they poked small holes into Apex’s back, and he winced in discomfort. Meanwhile, Paladin stormed forward, teeth bared, their cheerful nature completely diminished. They reared back, winding up to to punch Apex in the jaw, only for a claw to pick them up and set them aside.

Keloid, looking quite distressed, came over and scooped up Apex and threw him over its shoulder - Apex struggled again, but he was in a pretty inconvenient place and couldn’t quite reach any weak points.

Unbothered by Apex’s squirming, the shadow-vex left the room, sighing as it looked over the damage caused by the two shadows. It clambered up even more stairs before coming to another door. When it opened, Apex could hear birds chirping, and the sound of flowing water. He was set down in lush green grass. “Don’t break anything,” Keloid grumbled.

And it left.

#the fucking WILDEST ONE TO WRITE NOT GONNA LIE #HOOO BOY #I THINK PART FOUR IS GONNA BE THE LAST ONE #AND UH IDK WHATS OGNNA HAPPEN #WE GOING WITH THE FLOW #shadow!au #my writing #writing #buddies #apex #keloid #paladin/shiny #hermitcraft

45 notes · View notes

tillman · 5 years

Text

hi i ranked every single dark souls 1 character by who i think is the most kissable . its 79 characters all with a description of why theyre at the place theyre at with images for reference :-) its all under cut for u to enjoy.. thank u

this is all my opinion cus hehe im making the list but also im god so this is fact now .

counting down because u know what ! buildup is fun and i have to start off with everyones most favorite:

GWYN - 79

im kidding. fuck gwyn and everything he stands for. he wouldnt even be a good kisser he doesnt have FUCKING LIPS

SEATH - 78

oh you really wanna kiss the incel dragon who kidnaps ladies for his weird experiements?? yeah?? who are you, big hat logan?

EINGYI - 77

heres one i wont get hate for: this fucking asshole . die bastard . he cant even kiss his face is all infected and gross!

KAATHE - 76

he sucks.

SMOUGH - 75

not only is he too big to kiss! hes a cannibal!! hed eat you!!!! thats no kiss i want!

MANUS - 74

listen i know yall love daddies and all that but hes manipulative and not a nice person so id watch out. i GUESS hes kissable as he was a human before but def not a good kiss

BED OF CHAOS - 73

its just some vines that sometimes set on fire!! If it were still the witch of izalith she would be probally in the 20s as shes a good person who tried very hard to help the world but in this state... u cant even kiss her!

FRAMPT - 72

better than kaathe but the whole no lips and being a manipulative snake monster really throws me off and shoves him down at the bottom

FINA (GODDESS OF LOVE/BEAUTY (?)) - 71

(mentioned character - no image sorry :-( )

Listen as much as im all for love, this is love u dont want ! just trust me dont be lautrec dont do it you dont want to kiss fina listen to me. please dont kiss fina.

VINCE AND NICO - 70

way of the white members are NOTABLY unkissable but these guys. are just so boring. theyll be your white bread boyfriend as neil would say... bad kissers and bad people!

LAUTREC - 69

aw fuck wait can i make another character 69 he doesnt deserve it. anyways not only is he not over his ex (fina) hed probally gut you and steal your lunch money half way through the kiss anyways so whats the point . thats not how u treat a lover idiot

CENTIPEDE DEMON - 68

it eats your face and you die. next pleaaase

PETRUS - 67

another way of the white cleric. he at least starts off nice and he says fuck rich people but also he let that happen to rhea and i fucking hate his guts so no.

PALADIN LEEROY - 66

out of all the way of the white idiots hes the best in that he wears armor and seems cool but its the way of the white man. i cant get past that. sorry leeroy at least your armor is cool. he probably hasnt kissed someone in hundreds of years anyways

MOONLIGHT BUTTERFLY - 65

delicate ... but beautiful! i dunno how to smooch it but i def would if i could ! i dont think it can kiss back but, o well! we all have flaws

IRON GOLEM - 64

it cant kiss back but its COOL and can throw me like a javelin so like . yeehaw id smooch its little face place

UNDEAD MERCHANTS (BOTH) - 63

between moss and yulia i think they got enough on their plates! plus since theyre so hollowed, i dont think they have any lips to kiss back with!

INGWARD - 62

hes not like . bad persay but also i dont trust him after he helped with new londo. cool design tho. i wanna kiss that bird beak mask

JEREMIAH - 61

was a bullfrog, and never took off his crown long enough to kiss another person...... i feel like if he did though! oh boy!!!

Asylum Demon + Demon Firesage + Stray Demon - 60

more kissable than some bosses, but still not the greatest lips. good butts though on all of them.... so i guess thats fr u kinky people

SNUGGLY THE CROW - 59

(no image shes a crow)

please stop drawing her as an anime girl shes literally just a grow that likes warm things oh my god you freaks be nice to her

BIG HAT LOGAN - 58

hes hard to kiss around the hat! and on that note hes pretty much taken with his obsession with seath. good luck! hes nice though so better than most of this list so far

GAPING DRAGON - 57

ranked so high because past its giant underbelly of teeth and destruction is this very tiny head which i think is so funny i cant help but want to kiss its little snoot.... hehe baby

PRINCE RICARD - 56

oh now were actually getting into kissable range! ricard is a prince (maybe even of astora... kissability increase.) so his high ranking might get you some kissability points, but the hollowing is gonna lower that. 4/10 no kissable lips!

4 KINGS - 55

whats better than a prince..... a king... whats better than a king.................. 4 KINGS! just watch out for their overly anime spiky armor and the fact their in a never ending void nightmare but they do have faces so thats points above the rest!

SALAMAN - 54

(mentioned character only! sorry!)

hmmmm we dont learn much about him other than he was close with quelana and he was ............ hot! hes a pyromancer. being of the great swamp pushes him down a bit because he prolly smells like his name sake but u know what ! maybe hes cute! we cant be sure! hes in the running at least!

TAURUS DEMON - 53

hmm... bad lover.... good kisser................................................... the things i do for big beefy demon love.

GOUGH - 52

While you cant kiss gough cus all the sap in his helmet i cant bare to put him lower than he is hes just so sweet. a kiss on his helmet because i love him so much

NITO - 51

while he cant kiss back, nito deserves a kiss or two! plus he has a lot of hands so u can hold his hands and be hugged at the same time and u know what that might be just as good as a nice kiss. good on you nito!

STONE DRAGON - 50

again a non kisser........ damn beaks! the stone dragon does need a kiss though. they havent seen another living soul in years down in ash lake! so im giving them points on that alone.

VAMOS - 49

like the last two.... no lips! vamos though makes up for it in his charm and wit, and his exceptional skill in smithing! so even without lips to kiss, you still should kiss vamos! hes a good friend

ARIAMIS - 48

(mentioned !)

wow... a painter! and a skilled one at that! this man created the painted world used to keep priscilla safe and that is so noble it gives him points right off the bat! i feel like though, as an artist, he might be a bit weird about it. so watch out and be safe, but in the end, get free art and some free smooches out of him!

ELIZABETH - 47

thats my mom ... of course she gets a good cheek smooch for all her hard work keeping dusk safe!

DOMHNALL - 46

i love domhnall hes a good guy whos trying his best but also his mask is so fucking goofy i dunno if i can do it .

RICKERT - 45

as much as i think rickert would be a good kiss (hes smart, cute, and skilled!) he is trapped behind some bars willingly and probably wont let you in. i can dream though!

CEASLESS DISCHARGE - 44

if theres any boss that NEEDS a kiss its him. poor dude lost all his family and was turned into this laughing stock of a creature. youd probably burn your lips but .... please just be nice to him :-(

SHIVAS BODYGUARD - 43

ooo a strong yet silent type.... hes even cute under his mask! good kiss, but i feel like he might just care more about his actual job than a kiss ! hes dedicated !

CIARAN - 42

putting aside me knowing shed be a good kisser, i just understand she probably doesnt want a kiss right now, shes grieving over the loss of her friend and i respect her comfort. maybe a good pat on the shoulder and a cup of nice tea with her would be nice though!

PINWHEEL - 41

may seem like a weird choice to put a necromancer up so high on the list but.... honestly pinwheel needs some love. dude lost his whole family and in trying to revive them accidentally fused them to himself. while he might not be the best kisser, i honestly just wanna tell him everythings gonna be ok.

KIRK - 40

ok if you know me you KNOW how much it pains me to put kirk so low but. hes a busy guy! not only is he doing so much work to help out where he can with the fair lady, but you might just get pricked by his spiky armor while youre going in for the smooch! so, as much as he deserves a kiss for all his hard work, maybe pass until another time!

SIEGLINDE - 39

were getting there! she is just so strong... and so brave........ she may not even be undead! sieglinde is so strong and wonderful doing all that just to deliver a message to her unruly father, she deserves so many kisses! Shes got a lot on her plate though so please respect her......

BERENIKE - 38

(just mentioned!)

implied to be a huge strong knight who made it to even sens fortress! yes please !

BELL GARGOYLES - 37

hmmmmm,.......... if u can get past the whole lighting your face on fire, these are two loyal gargoyles! that seems pretty good to me!

BEATRICE - 36

a wonderful helpful witch friend! she is so nice to help you defeat flying bosses with her magic!! i love her so much! shes even cute to boot!

GIANT BLACKSMITH - 35

HE HELP ANYTIME................... I HAVE TO GIVE HIM A KISS FOR ALL HIS HARD WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LEGALLY I HAVE TO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RHEA - 34

putting aside my hatred of the way of white.... rhea really is just a babey.... shes adorable and kind and just wants everyone to be ok so im won over. maybe a little forehead smooch for being such a good person!

OSCAR - 33

oh oscar. a noble, heroic, and cute knight but in the end. would he be a good kisser........ i feel yes, but maybe not so much so! hes busy focusing on being a hero you know! hes a good friend and i cant help but fall in love with nice guys

THE FAIR LADY - 32

she deserves the entire world and all i can give her is my humanity and a kiss........... sobs. i wish i could do more to ease her pain but she is so strong and wonderful! please give her a nice smooch!

QUELANA - 31

i didnt wanna separate them ........ her wonderful sister! who even taught humans pyromancies! shes smart and nice, and honestly probably needs a kiss.

MILDRED - 30

uh my notes from last night are just

so yeah! thats mildred!

CRESTFALLEN MERCHANT - 29

hes sad as fuck but also... kinda handsome! he was a knight of berenike and made it almost all of the way through sens fortress showing how skilled he is! a strong man like this (inspired by maybe the best kisser in demons souls, boirr) has to be a good kiss!

SIEGMEYER - 28

hes going through a lot right now but... how could u not think siegmeyer is kissable. thats on you man. thats your own character flaw.

OSWALD - 27

ok this might be slightly controversial but i feel like oswald would be a good kisser. if you got past his slightly weird love for velka who well get to (thats just carimites (carimians? carimfolk???)) hes nice and kind and maybe the funkiest character in dark souls

KALAMEET - 26

another cant kiss you but.... kalameet is just so cool ! very shadow the hedgehog and u know what that is NOT a bad thing. you might have a rough time trying to get there, but..... aww whos a good dragon.....

DARKMOON KNIGHTESS - 25

alright the final stretch! the darkmoon knightess is the anor londo firekeeper, and a friend of gwyndolin! shes supposed to be “ugly and shit” (real quote. i would never lie to you) but her model is so cute! defiantly kissable as fuck!

SANCTUARY GUARDIAN - 24

GOFH ITS JUST A WIDDLE KITTEY CAT........... I GIVE IT A WIDDLE KISSEY ON ITS FOREHEAD AHOWHWWAWWW BABEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALVINA - 23

AWHAHWAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW SHES H(FADOESAGVFOSDHFSO CUET EIFEDKC LKOFIE JS I LOVE YOU FJEADFIDASHCODEUFCUSFKSDHFKSUHFC

DUSK - 22

oh yes!! the princess of a lost land...... will you be her knight in shining armor.......... oh i just love her so much. shes sweet and nice and cute and deserves a kiss or two!! please be nice to my daughter!

SHIVA - 21

hottie with cool armor and a cooler sword. since they cut his whole sidequest i can with all certianty say YES he is super kissable and is probably a great kisser

QUELAAG - 20

IGNORIGN HER GIANT SPIDER LOWERBODY........... SHES JUST DOING THIS FOR HER SISTER SHE JUST WANTS TO HELP HER POOR SISTER WHOS IN PAIN HOW COULD YOU NOT LOVE HER SO MUCH!! PLEASE KISS QUELAAG!

GRIGGS - 19

im putting griggs so high cus hes kissable in a factor unseen before...... baby factor. hes soft and nice and is just trying to find his dad! just tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight! its what he deserves!

ARTORIAS - 18

everyone already KNOWS why artorias is a good kisser. hes nice, strong, brave, and most importantly. cool as FUCKING HELL ! HE DOES SICK ANIME FLIPS!! if you can look past the abyss slowly taking him over, youll find a good good boy who deserves a good kiss.

ANASTACIA - 17

the good firekeeper who we spend most of our time with in 1! YES of COURSE Shes kissable. she deserves SO MANY kisses for all of her hard work in keeping the firekeep shrine lit! good job anastacia im sorry lautrec is like that

VELKA GODDESS OF SIN - 16

(just mentioned!)

if her title alone doesnt bring you in, youll be pleased to know shes implied to help watch over priscilla (who well get to hold your horses) and keep the poor girl safe! a strong sense of justice and a love of crows, shes probably an amazing kiss if you can find her!

ANDRE - 15

were closing in on #1 and i just have to throw andre in here. hes so nice and strong! just . please kiss andre! he deserves some he does so much work!

PRISCILLA - 14

poor priscilla. called a monstrous crossbreed and has to hide in a painted world to stay safe from those who would hurt her. including the internet! leave her alone you freaks shes not your fetish fuel!!! she deserves a good kiss on the cheek and a hug for all she has to put up with

CRESTFALLEN WARRIOR - 13

its my list i get to put the crestfallen warrior where i want. and u know what? he would honestly be a good kiss. hes kind and helpful and never once wishes you harm, he just needs to be held tightly and kissed passionately and u know what. dont we all.

GWYNEVERE - 12

she is beautiful but .... 1 shes married and 2 shes not even real! whatever. her husband the flame god flann is at least.......... hot! haahgdaefshdfcdhswfe im so fucking funny

BLACK IRON TARKUS - 11

listen i see a big beefy dude i go “hey thats hot please kiss me” so of course tarkus is this high up hes the beefiest dude around.... right?? anyways all knights of berenike are kissable hes just the MOST kissable of the 3 named ones!

ORNSTEIN - 10

this dude kisses the son of gwyn you KNOW hes a good kiss. the golden lion armor just helps so much. we love you ornstein .....

HAVEL THE ROCK - 9

HERE HE IS ... THE BEEFIEST GUY AROUND ... this bitch uses a DRAGONS TOOTH as a huge club to bash people with if that isnt big dick energy i dont know what is. armor made of stone. heart made of gold. havel the rock please god kiss me passionately under the moonlight .

SIF - 8

oghfoghfohg puppey..................................... SMOOCHIE THE PUPPY>...........

NAMELESS KING (!?) - 7

(hes just mentioned in ds1!!)

I KNOW HES A DS3 BOSS BUT LISTEN TO ME THEY TALK ABOUT HIM SO MUCH IM ALLOWING THIS. he defected from his awful dads team to go help the DRAGONS!! thats so cool hes so kissable. would be more kissable if he wasnt kissing ornstein but thats ok . i respect them both.

MARVELOUS CHESTER - 6

this MAY just because i have a huge crush on him but also here are some good kissable things about him: his fasion, his voice that sounds like a purr, his laugh, his malice, his funny mask, him. thank you for your time.

GWYNDOLIN - 5

FINAL FIVE! heres gwyndolin. the most kissable of all of gwyns children for the sheer fact of how much work they put in to making sure people stay safe and happy. they are so kind and wonderful they deserve SO MANY kisses! good on you gwyndolin....

LAURENTIUS - 4

now heres a fun one! laurentius is one of the nicest guys u will EVER meet in any souls game. he genuinely cares about you, he loves and respects u even if u dont respect him or his skills, hes nice cute and above all: i love him . please kiss laurentius he is a nice guy who just wants the best for u..... dont be mean to him.....................

CAPRA DEMON - 3

the highest one that cant kiss back and thats for the capra demons SHEER HORNY ENERGIES. this is a demon you can fuck! thats it i have nothing else to say i just think the capra demon is funny

SOLAIRE - 2

do i seriously have to explain why solaire is so high up. not only is he nice and cares about you, hes handsome, passionate, and just a good fucking person. he is hands down one of the most kissable characters in any souls game ever! fuck yeah! go off you funky little lover boy!

and finally.

its patches.

#i made this entire list for a joke and u know what the 4 hours i spent on it for the build up was so fucking worth it i dont care #dark souls #soulsborne

170 notes · View notes

pftones3482 · 6 years

Text

Making Friends

I had the sappiest, sweetest fic idea, and here it is. Post season 7.

Under a cut for length.

~~~

There was nothing on TV. Granted, Keith supposed after fighting off a war lord and a giant robot, he couldn’t really expect much to be on television save for the news, but he was BEYOND bored at this point. He had been ordered by Shiro and the doctors to stay in bed. His concussion was worse than the other paladins, and his ribs were pretty badly injured when they found him.

Allura’s hips had been dislocated, Lance had a concussion and a fracture in his left leg, Hunk had a concussion – he was the least injured of the paladins due to Yellow’s incredible armor – and Pidge had a concussion and several sprained limbs.

They were lucky, Keith knew that. They should have been dead. They almost were dead, if what he heard was right.

But he was so bored. His mother and Kolivan had to leave during the daylight hours, in order to help with repairs and debriefings, and Shiro was essentially running the Garrison at this point, with the help of Sam and Iverson, of course. Coran had been by Allura’s side non-stop, and while Romelle and the space mice had visited a few times, Keith didn’t have much in common with them. They were sweet, but it was awkward when they were all alone together.

Due to allergies, Kosmo wasn’t allowed in the hospital wing, and Keith missed him desperately. He wasn’t allowed to leave his room without an escort, and his ribs hurt so much that he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Keith was lonely.

He sighed and turned off the TV, leaning his head back against the pillows and shutting his eyes, dragging his hands down his face. The hum of his monitors behind him were comforting but almost grating, and he would have given anything for anyone to come visit him.

He’d even take Slav at this point.

What he got instead was the pitter-pattering sound of feet and then the squeaking of his bedroom door. He lifted his hands and his eyebrows in time to see a little girl peep her head in, eyes widening when she saw that he had spotted her. “Um...hello?” he tried.

She squeaked and covered her mouth with a bunch of paper she held clutched in her chubby fists. She couldn’t be more than five or six years old, and her hair color, her eyes, the familiarity of her face...

“You’re...Lance’s niece, right?”

The girl grinned, revealing a missing tooth, and bounced into the room, bobbing her head. “Yup!” she declared, sidling up to Keith’s bed like she had known him for years. She stuck out a hand, very formal. “My name’s Lindy!”

Keith cracked a smile and took her hand, shaking it firmly. “Hi, Lindy. Did you get lost looking for Lance?”

She shook her head, nose wrinkling. “Nah. Everyone there is booorrrrinnnnngggg. All they wanna do is talk about fighting and stuff. And Alonso won’t give me a turn with the helmet.”

Keith wracked his brain. “Alonso is...your brother?”

“Yeah! You wanna color?”

Keith blinked, staring down at her hands. Sure enough, alongside the wads of paper she had a box of very tattered, very old looking crayons. Keith couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been holding onto them during the war, but he shook it off. “I’m...I’m not a very good artist,” he managed, accepting the red crayon that she offered him.

Lindy grinned again, blinding, and before Keith could say anything she had clambered up in the bed alongside him, snuggling contently into his side. “That’s’okay!” she bubbled. “Me neither! But Papa says practice makes perfect!”

Keith chuckled and twirled the crayon between his fingers, relaxing against the warmth of the small child. “I suppose he’s right. What should I draw?”

Lindy tapped her chin with her purple crayon, her lower lip puffing out thoughtfully. “Hmmm...ooh! You can draw Voltron!”

Keith coughed to hide a laugh. “Uh, that’s kinda hard.”

“I’ll draw him too, don’t worry! Here’s a green and a blue and a yellow annndddd a black! Now we have all the colors. I’ll race ya!”

She really was related to Lance, Keith mused in amusement as he reached for the black crayon and started drawing Voltron’s head. The pigtails, the giggles, the faint freckles on her cheeks, her laugh, her personality – must have been a family thing.

He moved on to the red lion, wincing as the shape turned into a sort of oblong noodle, and then green, down to blue and yellow. Lindy finished well before him, signing her paper with a flourish of the pink crayon, and then eagerly bounced on the bed as he finished up Yellow’s head.

“That’s good!” she declared, shoving the pink crayon into his hand. “Now you gotta sign it!”

Keith did as she asked, a smile flickering on his lips, and when he was done he was surprised to get a blank piece of paper shoved in his face. “Another!” Lindy squealed. “This onnnneee....can be whatever you want it to be!”

Keith hesitated, watching as Lindy bent low over her page - “No peeking!” - and started coloring furiously. He turned back to his own page and reached out, picking up the black, blue, and purple.

His fingers moved for him, brain struggling to make shapes out of the lines he was putting on the page. This probably wasn’t great for his concussion, but honestly Keith couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this at peace. Olkarion, maybe.

The lines turned into fur, which turned into eyes and a tail and ears, and then a very cartoonish but recognizable version of Kosmo was staring up at him, and Keith felt a small swell of pride in his chest. He had drawn a lot during his year in the desert, but there was a severe lack of art supplies – and free time – in space, so he had fallen from practice.

“That’s your dog!” Lindy cried in delight, and Keith jumped, almost having forgotten she was there.

Keith chuckled and took the offered pink crayon, signing his name at the bottom, a little neater this time. “Yeah, it is. I miss him.”

“Where’d he go?”

“He can’t come in because some people are allergic to him in this wing. That’s okay though. Coran and my mom are taking care of him.”

“The orange bushy one?” Lindy asked.

Keith stifled a laugh. “That’s the one. What did you draw?”

Lindy blushed and held out the drawing. “It’s for you.”

Keith stammered a bit but took the offered paper. He stared for a moment, not quite comprehending, and then tilted his head, face softening. “Is this...us?”

Lindy beamed. “Yeah!”

On the page, from left to right, was a big yellow circle with a smiley face on it’s head and an orange line across it’s head. He was holding hands with a much smaller circle, bright green, with two black circles on the face.

She in turn held hands with a red square that had a dark splotch of black on top of its head and a triangle on its face, holding hands with a blue square that was slightly more detailed than the rest of the figures, the legs long and gangly and the hair a brown mop.

The blue square held hands with a pink triangle that had a blue dot in the center of it’s forehead, the skin colored in with a dark brown crayon. Four tiny circles sat on top of and around it, and it was holding hands with a tall black square with a scribble of gray on the top of the head.

In the back, Keith could see an orange figure and a purple figure waving, and he recognized the mustache and the markings on the faces.

“This is...great, Lindy,” Keith murmured, something coiling in his chest. He handed her his Kosmo drawing silently, and she took it like it was a priceless artifact, setting it on his bedside table gingerly before turning back to him.

She beamed, her dimples showing, and Keith broke character for just a moment to wrap an arm around her shoulders and squeeze. “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said, soft. “I was pretty lonely before you came.”

Lindy clicked her tongue. “Lance says whenever people are lonely you gotta hug them. But he also says you gotta ask first, cause they might not like that. Can I give you a hug?”

Keith smiled, cheeks warm. “Lance is pretty smart,” he admitted. “Yes, I would love a hug. But careful, okay, my ribs are still hurt.”

Lindy nodded very seriously and crawled up onto his lap, leaning gently across his torso and wrapping her chubby arms tightly around his neck. Keith lifted a hand to her back and rubbed it, feeling a bit awkward for a moment before he settled into the hug.

Lindy was remarkably gentle, shifting when Keith hissed or winced in discomfort, until eventually she was snuggled up on his other side, doodling hearts and stars aimlessly on her last piece of paper, sprawled across his lap. “Is space pretty?” she asked, her jaw breaking in a yawn.

Movement at his door made Keith look up, only to find Lance hovering there on crutches, a genuine grin on his face and surprise in his eyes as he took in the sight of the two of them. Keith offered a sheepish smile and Lance rolled a hand, telling him to continue.

“Space,” Keith said, lowering his voice a bit and rubbing a hand up and down Lindy’s arm as he locked gazes with Lance. “Space is the prettiest thing there is, I think. The stars glitter for light years, and the planets are wild and colorful and unlike anything you’ve ever seen. There are mermaids and giant bugs and aliens that can talk to trees. They’re all cool, in their own ways.”

Lindy hummed, her drawing slowing, and Keith let his thumb circle her shoulder. “I think the nicest thing about space though is that I made some very, very good friends.”

Lindy yawned. “Can we be friends, Keith?”

“I’d love that.”

#vld season 7 #voltron #klance #my writing #yeet

306 notes · View notes

jenanigans1207 · 5 years

Note

"don't ever do that again" for the bingo thing please??

You and @profoundprincessface both requested this same one! And now you’re both tagged in each other’s posts because I feel bad not putting it directly under both of your asks. xD Anyways, I hope you like it!! (Sorry for being 1029310283 years late!)

--x--x--x--x--x

For the last half an hour, Keith had been staring out the same window, waiting for the moment he saw the Red Lion. Earlier in the evening, Pidge had pulled up a report that there was a Galra ship nearby but Keith had ordered it to be left alone. As far as he could tell, it wasn’t causing any harm and it had no idea they were there. Pidge had monitored it for a few hours, confirming that it wasn’t even moving and there seemed to be no other ships coming to or leaving from it. With too many other things on their plates, Keith would be able to sleep at night knowing they hadn’t checked it out. He’d thought that was that until a little later when he’d heard the buzzer indicating that the hangar doors had been open. By the time he got there, the Red Lion was already gone.

Finally, the Red Lion appeared out in the distance, growing larger with every passing moment. Keith watched it, hands clenched into fists at his side, until it was closer. Once it was close enough to be landing any moment, he took off out of the room, heading towards the hangar. He was fuming. Beyond fuming, honestly, but he didn't have a word for it. He stormed down the hallway, slamming his feet into the ground with every step. He could feel the impact rattle his whole body but he didn't even care. The anger fueled him, pushing him down that hallway and around the corner until he was practically crashing through the door of the hangar and sprinting across the room to Lance who was hopping down from Red.

“What on earth did you think you were doing?” Keith demanded from halfway across the room.

Lance, clearly expecting this reaction, tried to diffuse the tension. “Well nothing, because we're not on earth.”

Keith halted abruptly in front of Lance, slamming a finger into his chest. “Don't you ever do that again.”

“Do what?” Lance challenged, straightening his spine. “Save the universe?”

“Alone.” Keith emphasized. “Aren't you the one always going on and on about being part of a team and never doing things on your own?”

“Oh, so you do listen to me.”

“Lance.” It was more exasperated than frustrated and Keith withdrew his hand from Lance's chest, running it through his hair instead. He noted the way Lance's eyes followed the movement, the way he seemed to swallow thickly in response.

“You’re just mad I disobeyed orders.” Lance tried, seeming to force himself to draw his eyes away from Keith’s hair.

“No,” Keith said, clasping his hands together behind his neck in an attempt to keep composed. “I’m mad that you risked your life like that.”

“Well you weren’t going to let me go.”

Keith let out a frustrated sigh. “I would’ve gone with you, Lance. I can only have your back if you let me.”

A moment of silence passed between them, before Lance let out a breath, sounding more frustrated than anything. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s already over with though, so—”

“Lance—”

“—If there's nothing else you want from me, I'm just gonna—” Lance gestured vaguely towards the door.

Keith took in a long breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. He needed to get his temper under control and he knew it. But the idea of Lance risking his life like that— the thought that he could lose Lance and not even get a chance to tell him all the things he had to say— made Keith want to punch a hole straight through the ship wall. More than that, it made him want to go on his own crazy solo rampage, blowing up anything and everything in his path.

“You wanna talk about what I want from you?” Keith remarked, leaning slightly to his left to catch Lance's eye again. “I want you to stop risking your life. I want to know you're safe, here, on the ship, waiting for me. You know what? No, I don't want that. I need it.”

They stared at each other for a long moment and Keith was able to see the exact second Lance deflated, letting go of his attitude. He watched Lance's shoulders sag, as if he were collapsing in on himself. Keith's heart ached as he watched, realizing for the first time that there might have been some hidden reason for Lance's reckless actions.

“You're being dramatic.” Lance said after a moment.

Keith looked at him then— really looked at him. He looked at Lance's eyes and the bags that were underneath, indicating many, many nights of lost sleep. He looked at Lance's paladin armor, noting the way it didn't seem to fit him as snugly as it used to. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to tuck Lance away, to keep him safe and warm, giving him the break he so clearly needed.

“No, I'm not.” He said gently, surprised at the tenderness in his own voice. “I'm completely serious.”

Lance took a step forward, brushing Keith off and bumping shoulders with him as he did so. Keith spun immediately, reaching out and grabbing Lance's arm. He held firmly, stumbling a step forward but not letting go when Lance yanked roughly in an attempt to free his arm. Keith couldn't name the emotion overwhelming him, couldn't name the emotion that was clear on Lance's face as he spun around to square off. All he knew is that the very core of his being, all the way to the deepest depths of his heart, was telling him that he absolutely was not to let to of Lance.

“What do you care, Keith?” Surprised by the outburst, Keith took a step closer. He was ready to respond, but Lance wasn't done. His voice was jagged, as if each word cut him as he spoke it. They certainly cut straight to Keith's heart. “What about what I want, huh? What I need? Do you ever stop to think about that?”

“What do you want, then? What do you need?” Keith tried his best to keep his words level, to fight against the bite that wanted to sneak in there. He knew getting upset would only worsen the situation but the anger was still boiling under his skin, bubbling away in his blood, making his entire body feel hot.

“Just forget it.” Lance said and Keith was so surprised by being shut down that he slackened his grip. Lance took advantage of it, immediately ripping his arm out of Keith's grasp and stalking out into the hallway.

Each step Lance took away from Keith hurt as if Lance were stomping on Keith's heart. The doors slid open and Lance was halfway through them before Keith was able to snap out of his shock and chase after him. He could feel Lance's growing distance echoed inside of him with a spreading emptiness. It hurt, as if his own soul were being ripped out from inside of him, to watch Lance walk away from him like that. The whole point was that he didn't want to lose Lance and somehow he had managed to push Lance away.

“Just listen, then, if you don't want to talk.” Keith called down the hallway as he followed Lance through the doors.

Almost to the end of the hallway, Lance paused. He didn’t turn around to face Keith, but he didn’t continue away from Keith either which was all Keith could ask for. Keith took a moment to close the distance between them, coming up until he was just a few steps behind Lance. He wanted to reach out and touch Lance, to comfortingly run a hand along his back, but it was clear that Lance wouldn’t be welcoming to such contact. Instead, he jammed his shoulder into the wall, leaning into it and diving in.

“I know I’m the leader and it’s my job to care about the whole team,” He began, his voice steadier than he expected it to be given that his knees were quivering, feeling like they were a moment from buckling. “But that is nowhere near the only reason I care about you, okay? I care about you because— because your smile lights up my world, Lance. Because you brighten my day. I know I can handle anything as long as I have you by my side and I always have you by my side. You’re loyal, you’re brave, you’re clever and formidable. But at the same time, you’re gentle, and understanding. You reach out for me when nobody else does and god, Lance, if you think any part of me is willing to give that up, you are sorely mistaken.”

Lance’s head was down and Keith could see the way his shoulders were rising and falling raggedly, could see the heaving breaths he was taking in. “Do you… mean that?”

“I’ve literally never meant anything more in my life,” Keith replied.

He didn’t have time to prepare before Lance was spinning around and running to him. Lance crashed into him, his face finding the crook of Keith’s neck and his arms wrapping tightly around Keith. Startled, but not unpleasantly so, Keith wrapped his arms back around Lance, finally giving in and allowing himself to trail a hand gently up and down Lance’s back. Even with his armor on, Keith knew he could feel the comforting motion.

“I didn’t think— I just—” Lance took a shuddering breath, one Keith could feel against his chest. His heart cracked open at the sensation. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“Lance,” Keith pulled away slightly to meet his gaze. “I never stop noticing you.”

And maybe it wasn’t exactly a love confession, but it was as close as Keith thought he could come right now. He couldn’t bear to say the words, couldn’t bear to put it out in the open for fear of Lance rejecting him, but he could at least hint at it. And just like usual, Lance seemed to read between the lines— to see down to the deep corners of Keith’s heart and know what was written there. A smile broke out on his face a moment before he leaned up to catch Keith in a kiss. Instinctively, Keith pressed his hand firmly against Lance’s back, pulling their chests flush together.

After a moment they separated, Lance looking up at Keith with dazzling blue eyes. “Don’t ever stop noticing me,” He breathed after a moment.

“I won’t,” Keith confirmed, a hand settling onto Lance’s cheek. “As long as you don’t ever do that again.”

“Not without you. I don’t ever want to do anything without you.” Lance murmured.

“Then don’t.”

“Okay,” Lance said, leaning into another kiss. And even though Keith was furious with Lance for what he’d done, he could feel it melting all away into the sweetness that was Lance’s lips against his, the firmness of their chests flush together and the erratic beating of his heart that indicated that Lance was, finally, his.

#klance #klance ff #klance fanfiction #klance fanfic #fluff bingo #fluff #voltron #Voltron ff #Voltron fanfic #Voltron fanfiction #vld #vld fanfic #vld fanfiction #vld ff #soft

13 notes · View notes

royal-writer · 5 years

Text

Fear of Falling

As good as you make me feel I wanna make you feel better Better than your fairy tales Better than your best dreams You're more than everything I need You're all I ever wanted All I ever wanted

This is a terrible plan. She chewed on her lower lip, light golden brown eyes darting from one teammate to the next. Splitting up? Nothing about that sounded good. She was used to the numbers; the certainty of backup and readily available allies with different niches and talents. It didn’t matter how ‘equally’ they tried to spread the castors to the armor clad fighters of the group, it still didn’t feel… right.

Because she cared. She worried. They were her friends. They were… family.

And you didn’t split up family. It felt like leaving people behind. It left a hollow in your chest; radiating into your soul like echoes off a canyon wall. It felt like you were already handing them off to another fate. You wouldn’t be there to grasp their hands. You couldn’t be there to protect them.

Her eyes moved to Abernathy, eyebrows drawn together with concern. He clapped a hand gently to her shoulder with a heartfelt smile.

“We have the Earrings of Whisper. We’ll be in touch,” he assured her, seeing the reluctance in her face. “You’ve nothing to fear.”

Nothing to fear, he said. Nothing to fear. How could he say that? He couldn’t possibly see the fear reflected from the depths of her being. The terror. The worry. The concern. Fearing the loneliness; the lifestyle she lived with before this. Alone. Isolated. Scared. Yes, she was afraid; deeply afraid for them all. They were obnoxious and at times overbearing, but they were still her allies. What if someone got hurt? Lost? No. No she would not allow herself to think of the worst alternative, it made her throat tighten and churned the acid in her stomach into turmoil.

She couldn’t lose them, too. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

As the Paladin stepped aside, leaving her staring after him blankly, Lord Amon squeezed by him. He wore a gentle, sympathetic smile. It was hazy outlined expression; the focus of her gaze on the retreating elder man instead with his back to her. The ruffled strands of black hair casting shadows across the nobleman’s face, and obscuring his dark eyes.

She ran her tongue over her lips nervously.

“Essätha-”

“You had all better come back,”she hoarsely whispered towards Abernathy’s behind. Her hands wrung. She could not meet the Briarton Lord’s gaze.

She didn’t react as a rough hand brushed her face. She didn’t respond as it moved to pause; stopping to cradle the side of her face.

He leaned in. Lips grazed her cheek. Hardly worth of being called a kiss, it was so faint and delicate. The scraggle of his beard brushing her jawline. A warm dizziness overcame her. She lost her breath; the smell of rose water and musky earth trapped in her nose and burning her lungs. The inky depths of his gaze momentarily meeting hers as she searched his face with her jaw hanging and mouth parted.

“Stay safe.” Amon’s voice was grating. Coarser than his hands; filled with his own shock.

He stepped away; the swish of his cloak dragging against the ground briefly. It reset his reaction to breathe, and as she did his cologne fogged her mind. She saw a halo of light around him; cast perfectly by the angle of the sun’s rays. It was enough to take her breath away all over again.

“Come back,” she murmured. It didn’t carry, thankfully. He was too far gone; right behind Adela and Penimra. Too far from her hands. Unworthy hands to touch someone so beloved and endearing.

Her lungs expanded once more. Inhaling. Exhaling.

“Come back to me.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sulhadur and Abernathy clasped hands before her. Relieved expressions in their eyes. Pri’cha seemed just as eager to greet their fellow companions; grasping hands with all four of their appendages at once in greeting. The only part of her team that seemed calm and unaffected by the reunion was Rava; who although pleased to see everyone, hung back to offer encouraging words and a nice handshake or wave here and there.

She watched. Inspecting them all as they walked around. Surveying for wounds among her pack.

The silhouette of Lord Amon’s shadow fell in her direction. As she turns towards it, her eyes captured the lopsided grin he offered her. A tussle about his hair like it had been ruffled recently by hand or breeze. His approach much like a lion; prideful, steady, confident.

Her heartbeat skipped and sputtered.

“Are you okay?” Relief. Relief in his voice but intent. A knowing. Masks were easy to display. Injuries could be far worse than simply upon the flesh. The worst kind of wounds were embedded in your spirit. They ate at your identity.

Wordlessly her mouth worked. She tried to find the ability to speak, but nothing came.

He was striking. Elegant and suave with just enough ruggedness to make your insides quiver and melt. It was easy to be attracted to his sharp good looks. It wasn’t so easy to fall for the man, when he held up a wall between himself and who he really was. A shroud of mystery. But once you got inside; once he let down those barriers and allowed himself to show in all his colors, there was no denial or struggle.

All his quirks and his charm; his ludicrous sense of humor and lighthearted teasing oh gods, he made it too easy. He was layers of the atmosphere. Storms and sunny skies, the frosty snow and the twilight filled with starshine. Ever-changing into something new. No two experiences quite alike. No two moods quite the same.

Amon raised an eyebrow at her. Confusion was written into the concern on his face.

It was a stupid, selfish impulse. He was just close enough.

Grabbing the collar of his jerkin in his hands, she tugged him forward while inclining in on her tiptoes. The nobleman went wide-eyed as her lips formed to his. Firm at first then yielding; her lips moving against his.

He grunted deep in his throat with alarm.

Idiot. She’d misinterpreted the previous kiss. It was friendly and a bit awkward but she’d thought… Or maybe she’d just hoped…

Letting go of the garment, she settled back on the flats of her shoes. Amon gaped at her like a fish out of water, with splotches of red dispersed randomly over his features.

She was a damn fool.

Color flushed her face. She moved to step back, brushing loose tresses of her locks out of her face while turning away. Stupid. She swallowed thickly. Oh gods, what had she done. What did she expect? For him to kiss her back? He must think she was insane. What the hell was going to happen now? Would he leave? Put her down gently or stomp this into the dirt before it was too late? Or was it already too late? Fuck, if only she hadn’t-

“Essie.”

Conflicting emotions riddled his tone. Astonishment, being the key factor. And her mind dared to think… want.

“Look at me.”

It was a plea, not a command.

She barely turned her face towards him; stomach in fearful knots and lashes low.

He held her face suddenly but carefully, and planted his lips on hers.

Every nerve in her body responded. She could feel the tingles shoot through her like an electrical current. Heat pooled into her bloodstream. Magma moving just beneath the surface. Every inch of her was saturated with him; his aroma, his eyelashes skimming her face as they closed, his palms cupping her cheeks with care. The whisper of his beard tickled her skin. She was wrapped in security and patience. Snuggled in respect and compassion. It was an innocent kiss. No passionate craze, no wild illusions, no rush. Soft, unbelievably tender, and giving. Intimate.

She moved with him, letting him dictate the details. Synchronizing to his cues; sinking deeper and deeper into the feelings and craving she’d been swallowing for months. This was better than any dream. He tasted better than any fantasy; midnight skies and a strong drink that left you drunk and craving more.

Amon tore himself away first, gasping. Her pulse was thunder in her ears, drowning out the quiet murmurs of her friends standing around. Some of them were staring, slack-jawed, and others appeared amused or gleeful to see the pair of them close.

Their eyes locked, and began to move over each other. His nostrils flared as he panted for air. The pad of his thumbs rubbed against her cheeks rhythmically. It was almost enough to make her purr. Desire began to creep up from the gutter to loom over like a predator. And she could see the very same rise beginning to mirror in the way the nobleman looked at her. He didn’t have to say a single word. It crackled in the air around them; almost a pliable sensation.

Where the hell did they go from here?

And what did this attraction mean for their friendship going forward?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A moan tumbled out of her as Amon anchored her back to the door, raising her thigh to encourage her to wrap a leg around his waist. The angle was utterly too perfect. His erection even beneath the layers of his clothes ground against her undergarments. It was erotic as it was maddening. So close but still so far; furthering her arousal against her damp heat.

Gods how many times had she imagined just this sort of scenario? Those callused hands groping beneath her shirt as he pushed it up, his mouth leaving steamy hot kisses against her throat. She had to fumble with all his damn garb meanwhile; but the reward was worth it. When her fingernails scrapped his abdomen, he growled her name low and husky close to her ear.

The anticipation was overwhelming. She’d already seen him shirtless plenty of times, but this time she could roam with her hands and not just her eyes. And there was some other areas her whirlwind of dark libidinous thoughts couldn’t help but draw up with fascinated intrigue. An entirely new region to explore and admire.

His name exit her in a broken sigh as a hand finally weaseled up enough of her rumbled shirt to find her breast. The sweep of his thumb over her budded nipple left her keening for more, swallowing the anxious lump forming in her throat.

She didn’t know what to feel. Torn between the chemistry; the longing, the hunger that wanted to romp in the sack, and the connected emotional depth. Their relationship already was too valuable to her. What if this was all he wanted?

Could she just… accept that idea? Nevermind her feelings?

Teeth glazed over her pulse point and her breath faltered further. The rumble of his laughter vibrated from his chest into hers as he pressed closer. The heat of his torso and curls of his chest hair against her own made goosebumps rise on her arms.

What if this wasn’t enough for him? What if she wasn’t enough?

Her anxiety finally found its way to her voicebox, and she squeaked before uttering a high-pitched and frightful: “S-Stop.”

Her chest rose and fell. Amon frozen; a statue pressed into her curves so wonderfully that their every contour was fused. His mouth, just against the swell of her breast, slowly retracted as dropped her leg so her foot touched the ground.

“Alright.” Deep. Still gravely with sensuality. “Alright.”

There was a flicker of reluctance in his expression as he pulled away respectfully. They were both too disheveled and too close to nudity for it to be appear a formal situation, yet despite the tension in the air, it appeared so. Amon stood poised and dignified, his hands to himself as he looked into her eyes. His presence was all calm and understanding. No implication in his body language or gaze otherwise said he was trying to sway whatever she said next.

Pressing her lips together, they formed a hard white line. She relaxed her expression after a moment, glancing away.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Silence. The nobleman opened his mouth to speak, but she was ahead of him.

“I can’t just-” she struggled, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I like you. A lot. And I appreciate you, m’lord, more than I can put into words. But as much as I want to, I can’t… risk my feelings. I can’t just settle for a one-night fling. You mean more to me than that.”

While trying to collect her next words, Amon made a soft scoffing noise at her. She dared to glance up to him, pursing her lips together worringly.

“You don’t think I have feelings for you, Essätha?” he crooned softly. The roughness of his hands found her hips, and she exhaled deeply with surprise. It wasn’t sensual, it was comforting as he pulled her in closer in a sincere embrace.

“I…” Her mouth worked stupidly. She fumbled, swallowing while trying to grasp at something to say.

“I’m not looking for a one-night stand,” he concluded. He was too close. She was falling into the depths of his eyes. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to resurface.

She didn’t really want to.

“You’re not?” she strangled to say.

He shook his head slowly, gaze smoldering.

Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again to rasp: “You like me?”

The sound that escaped him was a choked sort of laughter that came out like someone fighting for their dying breath. Her face turned even more red in reaction.

“Has it not been obvious, melitse?”

“Has mine?” she taunted back, leaning into the circumference of his body once more.

The grin he offered in reply was sheepish. It went well with the flushed color on his cheeks.

“I didn’t want to assume…”

She pitied the discomfort in his voice. The weariness. The concern. Truly, she understood all too well. Fearful of being wrong; even more scared that revealing the depth of her feelings would send him packing. Losing a friend she trusted so dearly made her heart ache just to consider.

Alleviated, she pressed a chaste, affectionate kiss lightly upon his mouth.

“Well now, you don’t need to consider, because I’m right here,” she mused in a sultry voice. Her hands ghosted over his chest, reveling in the way he shivered against her barely-there touch. She flashed him a grin of lewd implications. “And although you are very handsome, m’lord, I quite like the charming, witty, dependable, kind, intelligent man I’ve come to know. It’ll be fun to see what creative ideas you might be hiding.”

Amon’s pupils blew at the implication. He inhaled raggedly, dragging her in to mold against her chest as her rear moved to lean back against the door.

“I believe I have a fair imagination,” he vowed thickly, his mouth moving against hers as he spoke.

She grinned, running her tongue against the seams of his lips.

“Perfect.”

#eci artz #Essie rw #amon illiad #essamon ship

1 note · View note

aaesaesthetic · 7 years

Photo

AUDI CONFIRMED FOR THE NEXT PALADIN

I tried a RPG shindan with Audi and got this. It was too perfect.

#I snortlaughed so hard when I saw he got Paladin #it could not have been better #I kinda wanna draw him in a Paladin uniform/armor now #just for shits and giggles #gotta finish all this shippy stuff with him first tho >u>#just you wait chibs #rpg #shindan #shindanmaker

2 notes · View notes

fallout4holmes · 6 years

Text

Journal 32

Valentine and Hancock took the opportunity to catch up on each other's respective cities as we walked to Goodneighbor. Danse was silent at first, encased in his armor, but after a while asked, “Holmes, the ghoul - er, Hancock - mentioned you traveled with a super mutant?”

I explained how I met Rex Goodman and Strong. Danse was incredulous. When I went on to explain that Strong was now travelling between Minutemen settlements with a seamstress, he was nearly furious.

“You assigned an unarmed civilian to accompany a delusional abomination?!”

“Of course she’s armed, and Strong isn’t going to eat her, Danse. If he tires of humans, he’ll just leave.”

“You can’t be certain of that! How can you trust a super mutant?”

“He was stationed at the Castle without incident, and then in the western settlements after. He never attacked any human that didn’t attack him first. Hancock and I traveled with him, and I am certain he is blindly dedicated to his quest for the milk of human kindness, which means he can’t go around killing every human he sees.”

“This is insane.”

“It’s not as though I’m opening the gates to any super mutant who wants in. Strong is an exception. He is an… aberration among his kind. He likes Macbeth, for heaven’s sake. He is brutal and barbaric, but not an immediate danger to any human. He has no qualms about fighting his ‘brothers.’”

“Brothers?”

“That’s how he refers to other super mutants.”

“Speakin’ of Strong’s brothers…” Hancock said.

Sure enough, the sound of automatic fire and super mutant shouting could be heard over the blast of a laser rifle in the distance. Danse moved forward, “I’m on point, you three fall in behind and to the sides. Stick to the shadows; I’ll draw fire.”

No one argued, though Hancock cursed when he saw who the super mutants were fighting.

A Brotherhood Scribe tended to a fallen Initiate while a Knight fired upon the mutants across the street. The cavalry came in the form of a vertibird, quickly shot down to crash between skyscrapers, its pilot crawling from the wreckage, miraculously alive for the moment. Danse and I didn’t hesitate, attacking the mutants directly and creating a second front. Valentine made his way toward the pilot, shooting at a mutant hound before it could finish the wounded man. Hancock joined us, firing his shotgun point blank at every mutant he could, leaving a bloody mess in his wake. The Brotherhood Knight continued his attack with deadly accuracy, though I suspect he also wasn’t too concerned with not hitting us as well.

When the last mutant fell and the dust settled, the Knight was less than thrilled to see who had lent a helping hand. “Thanks for the assist… what the hell?”

A panicked cry came from the pilot. Valentine was on a knee beside him, his hands up in an attempt to be non-threatening. “Easy friend. I know the face ain’t comforting, but I promise I’m only trying to help. You’re in bad shape.”

The Knight stormed toward him, “Get away, you abomination.”

“Well, good afternoon to you, too,” Valentine stood slowly. “He’s bleeding out and both his legs are broken. You gonna let me give him a stimpak or leave him to suffer?”

“We don’t need help from freaks,” the Knight said, turning to encompass Hancock in the insult.

“Watch your mouth, friend,” Hancock snarled, “it's getting you in trouble.”

Danse knelt by the pilot, to everyone’s surprise. Valentine handed him the stimpak, which Danse promptly used to stop the man’s bleeding. “Does your Scribe require assistance,” he asked in a quick monotone.

“He’s keeping Initiate Nelson alive,” said the Knight.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Unless you’re a doctor, there’s nothing else you can do here.” The Knight surveyed the soldier before him as Danse stood up. “Didn't think Minutemen use armor.”

“I prefer it. The General approved.”

I stood beside Danse, “Indeed, why shouldn't any Minuteman who can salvage a suit put it to good use?”

The Knight looked at me. “Strange coincidence, an armored soldier joining the Minutemen after the synth you were supposed to kill is conveniently disintegrated.”

“Are you suggesting that Elder Maxson is a fool, or a liar?”

“Ooh,” Hancock chuckled from his position behind us, “dissension in the ranks.”

The Knight was unamused, “He doesn't have to be a fool to be fooled. It's no secret he and the traitor were close. If a devious false brother planted the evidence he wanted to see, he might not look as closely at the lie as he would any other time.”

“Awful lot of ‘ifs',” Valentine lit a cigarette, “not to mention a pretty clear picture of who that false brother would have to be.”

“Why do you find it so much more likely that I faked Danse's death and ran,” I challenged, “rather than the fact that Danse is dead and I couldn't stomach Brotherhood philosophy any further? Paladin Danse was a loyal soldier to the end. He did nothing to betray the Brotherhood except exist, and confronting him about his true nature was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Maxson was there; he followed me because he doubted I would finish the deed. Either I am the best liar in history, or your Elder himself would have to be complicit in this ridiculous conspiracy. If you haven't any proof to support your paranoia, we have nothing further to say to each other. Shall we, gentlemen?”

We made it a few paces before the Knight shouted, “Danse!”

“With you?” Hancock called back, “No way I'm high enough for that!”

Once we were a few blocks further, Hancock nudged Danse's arm, “Shit, crew cut, they really got your number. What the hell did you see in a bunch of racist bastards anyway?”

“Hope for humanity and a chance to make a difference in the world.”

Hancock scoffed, “Don't see why hope for humanity means killing all the freaks like me - or you.”

“It made sense at the time.”

Hancock paused a moment before he said, “Look, brother, I get that ain't you anymore. I just can't wrap my head around it. Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit.”

Danse was skeptical, “Does that extend to your own citizens?”

“Got a real simple policy in Goodneighbor. If someone needs help, I help 'em. If someone needs hurting, I hurt 'em. It's not hard. Folks know what they're getting into when they walk into my town, and if they don't, then they learn real fast.”

It was nearing sunset when Goodneighbor’s neon sign greeted us. Danse stared at it a moment and said, “With all due minimal respect, Hancock, what the hell?”

“I know, wasn’t my first choice for colors, but do you have any idea how hard it was to rig that thing?”

“I was referring to the fact that there is a giant sign announcing the presence of your den of criminals in the first place.”

“Hey, not all of ‘em are criminals. Drifters, outcasts, freaks, anyone who doesn’t have a home to call their own. Besides, who the fuck are we supposed to be hiding from? Someone wants to take us out?” He smiled sinisterly, “Just let them try.”

We went inside, and Hancock sighed, “Home sweet home. Oh, crew cut, friendly tip. Security here is strictly ‘do it yourself’... but I'm guessing you won't have to worry about that. Everyone’s welcome as long as they play nice. Goodneighbor is of the people, for the people, you feel me?”

Though it was impossible to tell, I'm certain Danse was scowling at his surroundings. “Understood,” he said.

“I'm gonna head up to the office, take care of some ‘pending mayoral business.’ Look around, I'll catch up to you later.”

As Hancock went inside the State House, I said to Danse, “At the very least we should restock on ammunition and supplies. Then there's a friend of mine I'd like to check in with.”

“Affirmative… a friend? Here?”

“More of a former business associate. First things first, for ammunition you'll want to talk to Kleo, and for everything else see her neighbor, Daisy.”

Daisy was more than happy to meet the man who put Trashcan Carla in her place for insulting a ghoul, and pleased to hear Al, “the Vault-Tec ghoul,” was doing well. Apparently gossip travels among the caravans. Kleo unsuccessfully flirted when Danse expressed interest in some of her heavier weaponry, but ultimately he decided to simply stock up on fusion cells. Our supply needs met, I led the way to the Memory Den.

The proprietress was lounging in her usual position. “Good evening, Irma, is Kent in?”

“Where else would he be?” She smiled, “He’ll be happy to see you, sugar…” she stood as her attention drifted to the two men behind me, “... well, well! Hello, Nick.”

Valentine grinned, “Irma. Let me introduce the Lt. Colonel of the Minutemen.”

Danse removed his helmet, “Ma’am.”

“Welcome. And call me Irma, dear. Of course, if the rest of what's under the armor matches the eyes, you call me whatever you want.”

“I… appreciate the compliment. Exactly what sort if establishment is this?”

Irma laughed, “Relax, sugar, I'm harmless.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Valentine muttered.

“Oh hush, Nick,” she playfully scolded.

I left her to the explanation of her business while I looked in on Kent. He’d just finished introducing an episode where the Silver Shroud encounters a villain called “The Mechanist,” and greeted me with a smile. “Shroud! Long time no see. How’re things?”

“Doing well, Kent. Remarkably busy.”

“I bet. After destroying the Institute, being a General and all, and a detective, I bet you don’t have a bit of spare time.”

I laughed, “Some days it seems that way. Word has spread about the Agency?”

“There was a story in Public Occurrences a while back, that’s how I knew. Sometimes Diamond City Radio mentions you too. What brought you back to Goodneighbor?”

“Passing through, escorting your wayward Mayor home.”

“I sure do appreciate you stopping by. Is the suit still working ok? Oh, but I guess you don't use it a lot these days.”

“I do not, but it is still perfectly intact and functional. You did some impressive work, Kent.”

He smiled, “Thanks.”

We heard Hancock's voice from the other room, “There's two of you. Where'd Trouble get to?”

“Mayor Hancock,” Irma intercepted. “I don't often see you in my parlor.”

“Nothin’ personal. Just not my kind of high.” I could imagine; dwelling on the past held no appeal for that man.

“A moment, Hancock,” I called and turned to Kent. “I should be going. It was good to see you.”

“Sure thing Shroud,” we shook hands, “same to you.”

I joined my companions, we bid a good night to Irma, and followed the grinning Hancock out the door. “Come on fellas,” he said, “drinks are on me.”

“Which means they're on the house,” Valentine said.

Hancock shrugged, “Well, yeah, I own the joint, so same thing.”

As we descended into the Third Rail, Valentine said to Danse in a low voice, “Watch your caps in this place. Folks behind the bar are as likely to rob you as those in front of it.”

“You don't have to be a detective to see that much,” Danse grumbled back. Valentine chuckled.

An intoxicated patron made some comment about the “king of the ghouls” being back in town, prompting Hancock to smile, “It’s good to be home. What's worth drinkin' today, Chuck?”

The uniquely Cockney Mr. Handy behind the bar swiveled in surprise. “Mayor Hancock! I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be coming in today. We're out of your usual.”

“Don't sweat it, Chuck,” Hancock leaned against the bar. “Just gimme whatever tastes the least like it's been aged in a shoe.” He was handed a glass of something that might have been beer. “Here,” Hancock attempted to pay, but he was refused.

“Please, Mayor Hancock. I can't take your money.”

“Can't say I didn't try,” Hancock laughed, “Thanks Chuck. Oh, those three are with me.”

“What's the word, Charlie?” Valentine said as we joined the Mayor.

“Valentine. You actually gonna buy something this time?”

Valentine was amused, “It'd be a chilly day in hell before I buy any of your swill. So, anyone new in need of finding?”

“None that didn't want it or have it coming.”

This was clearly a routine between them. “Always the humanitarian, ain't ya, Chuck?”

“Set the humans up with whatever the hell you gave me is,” Hancock said with a grin, “and put it on my tab.”

You could almost hear a pained sigh. “Comin’ up.”

Danse, realizing he was taking up a large amount of limited space, moved to a corner to exit his armor. We joined him as Magnolia took the stage. Hancock and Valentine enjoyed the show while Danse and I spoke quietly.

“General, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn’t mean to usurp your command. I shouldn’t have let my emotions override my duty.”

“You mean when we were fighting mutants? For heaven's sake, you are far better equipped than I to issue battlefield instructions. As for your reaction to Strong, I expected as much. You have every reason to hate mutants, and to doubt my admittedly questionable judgement concerning this one.” I managed a swallow of the poor excuse for beer I was holding before setting it on the table and switching to a cigarette. ��Now. What’s really troubling you?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, chagrined.

“Only because I know you,” I assured him, and waited.

“… I used to sound like that. The Knight.”

“‘Get away, you abomination?’”

He nodded. “He didn’t react the way I expected.”

It took me a moment to realize to whom he was referring. “Valentine? He’s had a century of practice maintaining dignity in the face of hate.”

Danse took a large swallow of his beer, grimaced, and set it next to mine. “It was difficult to hear, now that I’m one of those abominations.”

I put my hand on Danse’s shoulder, “As Hancock said, ‘that ain’t you anymore.’ And if he can see that, anyone can.”

Magnolia finished her performance to rousing applause. “Hey, Holmes,” Hancock grinned, “should we try to set the soldier up?” He nodded toward Magnolia.

Danse rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

“Not your type,” Hancock nodded, making mental note, “got it.”

“Hancock, stop trying to make me relax.”

“I’m concerned! Can’t be healthy having posture that good all the time.”

“The possibility that you would be at all concerned with what’s healthy and what isn’t is laughable.”

“Alright you two,” Valentine stood. I noticed he wavered a bit, the effort greater than it should have been. “Hancock, the humans are gonna need a place to sleep.”

Hancock scoffed, “Hotel Rexford belongs to Marowski. Not even my charm can crack those rates. Of course, there's always the couch in my office,” he leered at Danse. Danse didn't try to hide his disgust, prompting a wicked laugh from Hancock. As Danse entered his armor, he asked, “Seriously though, crew cut, when was the last time you got laid?”

“Five days ago, before I left Sanctuary.”

Hancock was thunderstruck. “Shit, seriously?” He chased after Danse as he left the bar, “A tin soldier is getting more action than I am?! That just doesn’t seem right. Course, I was on the road with your General…”

I held Valentine back a moment, “Are you alright?”

“Just a couple gears acting up…” he sighed at my frown. “I’ll be fine. Let’s catch up before Hancock annoys Danse enough to say something he’ll regret.”

We secured the sole available room at the Rexford (not even the Mayor dares push the patiencel of Ms. Hutchins, the elderly receptionist - a deathclaw would be cowed by her glare.) Hancock bade us goodnight and good luck on our journey to the Castle in the morning.

Valentine is running a diagnostic; it's taking longer than usual. He assures me he's perfectly capable of making the trip to the Castle and then Murkwater, but I can't help but worry. I have to put it from my mind and try to rest.

#nick valentine #danse #hancock #fallout 4 #sherlock holmes #fan fiction #crossover

25 notes · View notes

silasnce · 6 years

Note

Kolivance, Koli unsure of what to do when Lance is sad/injured/crying/homesick? More delicious angst :3

Oh man. If you think this is gonna be like that “angsty” shance one I did a while back, then you’re wrong. Lmfao

Not sorry if feels are evoked, but I am sorry it took so long for me to get to this. Thank you for the prompt!

Send me a ship/prompt.

Golden eyes stared unseeing at the healing pod before him. The ticker on its display seemed to drag on the longer Kolivan stood there. Despite how long he’s been in there, Lance’s face still appeared too pale for Kolivan’s liking.

“Babe, I’m gonna need a little help, I think.”

Deep breath in.

“Just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

Slow breath out.

“Kolivan… I don’t feel so good…”

The Blade leader closed his eyes, heartbeat stuttering as Lance’s weak cry resounded in his head like a broken record. When he opened them again, his gaze immediately found where blood had stained through the white suit on Lance’s stomach. He couldn’t help the shudder that traveled through him and lifted the fur along the back of his neck.

“I-I don’t wanna die!”

He, too, didn’t want his beloved to die.

Death was all too commonplace in war, and Kolivan had believed he had grown numb to it until now. Lance was so alive a person; the galran hadn’t ever imagined him as being able to die. And yet, here the paladin was: having almost died in his very arms.

A heavy sigh left him as he began to pace before the cryopod. What else was he meant to do? He’d already rooted through Lance’s room and remade their nest - consisting of their combined clothing and sheets - as well as he could on the tiny bed. He also cleaned the blood from the cockpit of the paladin’s lion and washed both of their armor twice. Lance had been in the pod for three quintants now and wasn’t due out until another couple of vargas.

Kolivan’s hands clenched and unclenched as he continued to pace, trying to come up with some task to keep his mind off of what had happened before. He was drawing blank after blank. He had stocked food and water in Lance’s room, so they - hopefully - wouldn’t have to leave for a while. He had made sure everything was spotless in mentioned room. He had even gotten help from the yellow paladin in making a couple of gifts Kolivan hoped Lance would enjoy. What more could he do?

“Ko…li-” Blood. Blood everywhere. Pouring from his body in rivers. Dripping out of his mouth to mix with the tears sliding under his chin. Wet, blue eyes turning glassy. No response. He wasn’t responding. What? No. Why…?

Why? WHY? WHY? WHY? NO! NO! NO! NO! HE COULDN’T DIE! NOT YET! NOT N-!

The galran growled fiercely, his claws digging into his palms as he screwed his eyes shut. He slammed his fist into the nearest wall, a thrum of pain shooting up his arm shortly after his knuckles collided with the cold metal. His breath came in short gasps as his body slumped forward against the wall, his mind whirring nonstop with what ifs.

Eventually, a loud click followed by hissing drew him out of his own personal hell. He whipped around with wide eyes to see the cryopod opening up. He glanced at the ticker in a panic, - Lance couldn’t be done already! - but it read zero. He sucked in a relieved breath and moved closer to catch the paladin in his arms. As soon as Lance fell against him, Kolivan lifted him up in a cradle and started towards their nest. As he sped through the halls, he felt Lance shift before curling his arms around his neck. Kolivan pressed a kiss to Lance’s temple before whispering, “Almost there.”

“What about the others?” Lance asked quietly.

“They can’t have you.”

A noise of confusion escaped Lance just as they reached his door. Kolivan typed in the 8-digit pin - 82723376 - and stepped inside. The doors shut behind them with a full thud, and he tucked Lance into the next before crawling in and curling around him. Lance’s soft hands pressed to the Blade leader’s face, directing his gaze into his own. His confused expression softened before he brushed his thumbs gently under each of Kolivan’s eyes. Kolivan blinked, only then realizing he had started to cry. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so. Lance pressed a kiss to his lips briefly before questioning, “Are you okay, babe?”

Kolivan took a moment to respond, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against Lance’s, “No.”

Lance’s hands slid to cup the back of the other’s neck. “…You’re scared.”

“Yes,” Kolivan admitted softly, “I almost lost you. I didn’t know what to do. I mean… I knew what to do, but I didn’t know how to handle it. How to handle…you dying…”

Lance’s sigh ghosted over his face. Kolivan opened his eyes to see Lance smiling just a little. The paladin’s thumbs pressed and circled into the galran’s skin. “I didn’t die.”

“You could have.”

“Yeah… but I’m not dead yet. We’ll plan better next time, - perform better - and hopefully, this won’t happen again.”

Kolivan wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist, reeling him in to press the other against his chest. He pressed his face onto the top of Lance’s head before whispering. “And if it does happen again?”

“We’ll persevere…like we do every time something like this happens.”

“But-”

“Kolivan, do you trust me?”

Kolivan lifted his head, eyes flying open to give him a puzzled stare. “Yes?”

“Then, trust that it’ll take a lot more than that to take me away from you.”

With a slow breath, Kolivan rested his cheek against the top of Lance’s head. “…I trust you.”

What else could he do?

#kolivance #prompt #my writing #spn-samifer

97 notes · View notes

impfiltration-archive · 6 years

Note

"I need you to be stronger. Tell me you understand."

Drabble Mania (Closed) || @the-lost-lieutenant

Let’s pretend there was enough time for Aryn to address her niece’s behavior during s5.

Setting: Before the prisoner exchange with Zarkon

Aryn takes a big, great sigh of disappointment.

She loves Katie, she really does, but for all the limb and life she’s willing to sacrifice for that girl, her patience is running raggedly thin. Her arms go akimbo, after the bridge of her nose has been sufficiently pinched, and stands tall to cast Katie in her shadow as she roots through her things.

“You know that’s not what I was looking for.” The she-demon only gave her lip when she first came in. Even after she’d spoken so gently, pouring all her auntie-tenderness into her words while asking how her charge was holding up after that disaster of an assembly (Who thought of asking Lotor about whether they should trade him or not?). Katie just muttered about how “useless” everyone was being, and that’s when Aryn’s shoulders went ridgid. She felt like smacking the kid across the head more than anything, now—easy enough to tell by the severe tone she picked up.

Katie just kept going through her things. After her last mission, she shucked all her armor and left it in pieces all around her room. Her bodysuit was already on, along with her her chest-plate, gauntlets, and boots, but she’s still missing her belt and helmet. The half-ready paladin stood up from her squat after her clothes pile turned up fruitless, sized Aryn up with a glaring sneer, then moved to check under her blankets. Aryn snatched up her forearm, though, and spun her around to look eye-to-eye.

“Katie.” This wasn’t the time for cutesy, family nicknames. “I am trying to talk to you, and you’re being completely unreasonable.”

There was an angry grunt that strummed up Katie’s throat, and with bared teeth, she jerked at her captive arm. It wasn’t freed from Aryn’s clutches, yet it still served to showcase her raising fury. “How am I being unreasonable?! Zarkon has my DAD, we have to go get him right now!”

Aryn’s heart aches at the thought of how worn and decrypted Samuel looked in his slave rags; still, after dragging in a very deep breath, she maintains her steely-demeanor. There’s a hard press of irritation rearing itself against her forehead that she’s trying to work through. It’s just how indignant Katie can be, so blindsided that she can’t be bothered to consider any aspect of their situation. Like how she’s coercing them into gambling with Zarkon, or that she’s somehow the only one invested in getting her dad back.

“I know that, and we’re going to get him back, but–”

Katie’s shoulders hunched up as her eyes narrowed, and she cut Aryn off with a searing edge to her voice. “But what? You and Shiro promised that you’d help me find my family! Now we know where my dad is, and you’re both trying to get out of helping me and Matt. Why don’t you ask Lotor to start calling you ‘Auntie’ instead, since you wanna keep him around so much?”

That right there was the final straw for Aryn Evans.

Her lips went thin and her grip tight. She matched the kid’s scowl with that of a seething drill sergeant’s glower, then pulled her to march in tow. Katie snarled and struggled, of course; however, Aryn only halted to snatch up the helmet forsaken around the door. Katie had been fuming too much to see that they were right in plain sight.

No matter, Aryn dragged Katie to the training deck—shoving her in there before there was anymore flailing or cursing. The girl rounded her stumble into a battle-ready pivot, already balling her hands into angry fists.

“What are you doing?!” This is about the sixth time she’s asked that, but the confusion lining her words is all the more distinct. Aryn doesn’t bother with answers, just getting the doors closed before she tosses Katie her helmet. The paladin catches her gear, though there’s no move to put it on. “We don’t have time for this, we–”

Aryn was the one to interrupt this time. “We agreed to meet Zarkon later; we have time.” She spoke in the cold, heavy way that means she was ready to punch through the wall. As if Katie would admit it in her current rage, but that tone made her gut churn—like whenever you’re about to get into trouble. This wasn’t the time to lose face, so she masked on her glare.

It’s easy when she thinks about how Zarkon has his gross, evil claws on her father.

Apprehension still cracks through the surface, you can see it by the small, awkward steps Katie takes in shape of a cockeyed circle. It’s so she can keep her sights on Aryn; the woman was walking a wide arch around her.

“Then what is this suppose to be, some ‘cool down’ yoga session?”

Aryn picks a spot somewhere to the far left, standing with with low knees and angled toes. She responds matter of factly with a stiff, “No,” as she raises her arms to match her stance. “We’re going to spar. Since you’re so sure that you can just take on Zarkon and those generals, then why don’t you show me? Last I check, you still couldn’t land a decent hit on me.”

Katie gaped before throwing her arms up. “This is a trade! We give him Lotor and he gives me my dad. If anything goes wrong, we’ll have Voltron to handle it.”

The paneling detail lining Aryn’s prosthetics come to life, radiating with the same, sick purple found on Galra ships. There was about half a meter between them that Aryn closed in nano-ticks, swinging up a leg with a heavy grunt.

Her shield barely activated in time, but Katie blocked Aryn’s kick before it rendered her a heap on the floor. She’s having to really to dig her side into the hard-light cover, though, dropping her helmet to the ground in the process. It goes unnoticed. Aryn had kept her balance, and was twisting her calf around to break Katie’s footing.

“What happens if he double-crosses us and you end up hurt down there? How are you going to form Voltron then?”

Katie was starting to slip and yelled between clenched teeth. “Then I won’t let that happen!” She dropped herself into a half-squat, deactivating her shield right as she spun around to dodge Aryn’s blow.

Her boot slammed into the ground instead, and Katie stood up straight—right hand held close to her chest. The shape of her katar was glowing between her fingers, when all the sudden it dispersed into glittering bits of neon green. Aryn had punched through her bayard before it could take form.

Since when could anyone do that?!

Honeycomb eyes were wide as can be; Katie could feel her weapon seeping back into her cuisse. It’s just a moment of shock, but then again, that’s all it really takes. Though Katie barely processes it, the stark purple along Aryn’s arm died down as she was suckered-punch right in the gut.

Like that, Katie doubles over to her knees. She wraps her arms tight around her stomach, tucking her head into her chest. There’s mostly just pained hissing; although, the keen ear could pick up on a variety of curses.

Aryn stands overhead, her fists having gone slack and akimbo again. She feels a touch of guilt: that wasn’t her challenging the paladins to improve their agility or strength, that was her needing to cut down her opponents or else. She’d cut the brawl off before there were any fractures or blood spurts; still, her mercy had been severely limited, and Katie only lasted a dobash at the most.

The woman frowns in a deep-seated way that suggests pity, or when her pinched brow is considered, exasperation. “Hey, come on, Kiddo.” She kneels down, slowly, while raising a hand to set on Katie’s shoulder. Aryn falters when her head shoots up, revealing an angry, tear-stricken face.

“What are you trying to do here?!” Katie’s voice is raw, the sort of strain you get when trying to hold back all the sad, little noises that knot up in your throat. She wants to look fierce, hoping her ire strikes regret into the very core of any onlookers, but what really drives into the old lieutenant’s heart is just how vulnerable the girl looks.

Her pseudo-niece draws in on herself, like she’d look bigger with a hunched-up back. “If you’re hoping to beat me out of finding my dad, then it won’t work! You know I’ll never give up!”

It’s starting to feel like Aryn was sighing a lot today. Some of her earlier frustration began to stir, though it’s well placated now that Katie’s bratty sneers and snide comments have been reduced to warbling sniffles.

“Katherine Holt,” the full name is more to catch attention than insinuate any warning, “you know full well that I’m very much invested in getting your Dad back. You’re not thinking all of this through, though. Do you really think you can just fly in there and out with Sam, without any problems?”

Katie’s eyes dragged to the floor, and that was answer enough for Aryn. Ever so gently, she cupped the poor kid’s cheeks. Her heart lightens, quite significantly, when Katie doesn’t flinch away, and actually looks at her without bared teeth.

There’s some snot that she sniffs up before it can runs it course, unlike the two very fat tears oozing down her cheeks. “But I’m so close.”

Aryn extends a thumb to catch one, while the other runs along Katie’s chin and down to her lap. God, that hurt, little girl voice had a way of breaking her better judgement. “Yes, but..” She closed her eyes for a tick, having to will herself to not cave in. “I need you to be stronger. Tell me you understand. This is how the Galra hurt so many people; because they find the right bait to make you lose all perspective.”

Katie was looking back at the ground again, but her eyes read more tired than anything. They sit like that that for a short while, before Aryn reels them both into a hug. Katie’s face fits easily in the crook of Aryn’s neck, and she snakes her arms around her Auntie’s back without second thought. Her breath is easy as Aryn rocks them back and forth—just a tiny bit.

Aryn seems to relax, too, though after a moment or two, she asks one more time: “Can you please tell me you understand?” Katie pulls away from her snug spot, and there’s a strong contrast from her frothing at the mouth rage and the tired-faced quiet she’s settled into; still, tension runs deep through her being.

She nods, giving the gesture unnecessary weight, but it’s good enough for Aryn if that means she can talk to Katie without having to raise her voice. Finally, she can breath with relief.

“How about we go back to everyone else, and figure out how we’ll handle this mess?” Aryn stood up, trying for an easy tone as she reached out an arm. Katie took it, and after swabbing her face with the back of her hand, walked a few spaces over to collect her helmet—slipping it on like she should’ve ten dobashes ago. She still needed her belt.

“Okay.” Her voice is flat and it’d put Aryn on edge if she wasn’t happy with getting Katie at least this calmed down; instead, the paladin just feels metal fingers press into her back as they walk for the doors. It was probably meant to be comforting, but Katie’s eyes still narrow as she swears, “I’m not going to lose my dad again, though.”

#thelostlieutenant #[ DRABBLE ╰☆]#(FINALLY finally gets to this omf)#(i had like a million different mental images for this bc i'm a dramatic ass about pidge actually getting her wrists slapped)#(plus i imagine aryn would've been rightfully done with pidge's uh.. outbursts in s5. would that have counted as mutiny??)#(either way: i'm weak for auntie and fake-niece hugs)

3 notes · View notes

checkfortraps · 6 years

Text

I have a new son. His name is Obsidian Mossvale (but please, call him Sid), he’s an earth genasi paladin of Tymora and an agent of the Order of the Gauntlet who’s smol but stronk, albeit clumsy (-1 Dex, RIP). Also, a fucking nerd because he speaks 4 languages. (What do you need that many languages for, Sid? Who do you wanna impress, hm?)

I don’t have a portrait for him because I can’t draw and am too poor to commission one right now, but he’s 29 years old, 5′7, short and stocky, with dark golden eyes, long dark green hair worn in a braid, and deep brown skin that displays fissures which glow with a faint green-golden light. His favored weapon is a warhammer because why the fuck not, let’s wreck some shit. He also has a shield emblazoned with the sword and fist of the Order and currently wears a pretty dinged up chain mail armor that he hopes to trade in for splint soon.

#tricky.txt #oc: sid mossvale #me making all my male ocs my height? it's more likely than you think #listen i just have a very soft spot for shorter men #anyway i'm playing sid in a one shot this weekend and i am stoked

7 notes · View notes

salty-dracon · 6 years

Text

ace hang plays secret heroes: the d&d campaign

(Lily’s a tiefling rogue, Brid’s a half-elf paladin, Val’s an half-elf wizard, and Arthur’s a dwarven barbarian. Based on this scene.)

DM: At last, it is the night of the trip overseas. You’re standing near the dock with all of your luggage. The boat is ready to leave whenever you are. So... you’ve already made preparations, so what do you do?

Brid: I guess we start putting our luggage on board.

DM: Okay. Anyone packing anything heavy?

(Everyone is quiet)

Arthur: Like, besides our weapons? Because I have a warhammer-

Val: Didn’t we have a donkey?

Lily: We sold the donkey.

-----

DM: Okay, roll me a perception check.

Lily: *rolls dice* 9.

DM: Okay, never mind.

Val: Oh god. We’re about to get ambushed, aren’t we?

-----

DM: The captain stands by the wheel. “Ready to go, me hearties?”

Lily: “Me hearties”? What are you, a pirate?

DM: Was that in character?

Lily: You fucking bet it was.

-----

DM: As Grustat is about to board... Lily, roll me a perception check.

Lily: *rolls dice* 15.

DM: You sense something behind you. Someone is following you.

Lily: Ah, shit, guys, an ambush.

Brid: I have darkvision.

Lily: I too have darkvision.

Arthur: I... think I do.

Val: I do.

DM: *sigh* You see two humanoid figures in the bushes. They’re sneaking around, keeping an eye on you.

Lily: Uh, fuck this shit, let’s just leave.

DM: ...

Val: No, I wanna fight them.

Brid: We’re on a rickety dock and two of us are wearing heavy armor, I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Arthur: I second that.

DM: Technically, only one of you-

Val: ... Yeah, let’s just hop on and get the driver to go. Okay, I run to the wheel and tell the driver we’re being followed.

DM: Okay, roll me a charisma check.

Val: *rolls* 19.

DM: *sigh* “Yarr, we’re being trailed, eh? Come, hide in the back! I shall lose them!” With that, he starts up the boat and it starts heading away from the dock. It’s only a few feet away when one of the figures emerges- a dragonborn.

Brid: What color?

DM: Red.

Lily: Shit, we’re on a wooden boat.

DM: Okay, everyone, roll for initiative.

-----

Lily: I’m still hiding.

DM: Okay. The dragonborn goes after Morgan and *rolls* hits... for *rolls again* 4 damage.

Val: Why me?

Brid: Well, Lily- I mean, Kory- is, well, hiding, Grustat’s a freakin’ barbarian, and who’s gonna mess with a goddamn paladin with enough AC to survive a half a dozen zombies?

Val: To be fair, Verity did get crit for 16 HP during that tavern brawl.

Brid: Verity got crit for 16 HP during that tavern brawl and SURVIVED.

Val: Okay. I cast-

Lily: I got your back.

Val: I cast magic missile anyway, directing all three bolts at the dragonborn.

DM: *rolls 3d4* Ten damage. Nevertheless, the dragonborn seems unfazed-

Brid: I HIT IT WITH MY SWORD

DM: It’s not your turn yet-

Arthur: The dragonborn doesn’t have wings, correct?

DM: ...Yeah?

Arthur: I push it off the edge of the boat.

DM: ... Okay, let’s roll a grapple check.

Arthur: *rolls* 20.

DM: ... Okay, that’s an instant win.

Brid: NICE!

Lily: Didn’t get to burst him......

DM: You... push the dragonborn with your barbarian strength and he falls off the railing and into the dark sea. Uh, we’re five turns in... yeah, the boat would have moved away from the dock by now. Okay, yeah, he’s off the table.

*Everyone exchanges high-fives with Arthur*

DM: As the boat begins driving farther and farther away, you see the other silhouette launch itself into the sky. It’s a winged humanoid. It’s flying about thirty feet above you.

Brid: What kinda wings? Like, from the silhouette.

DM: Birdlike.

Val: *groan* I cast Magic Missile.

Lily: Crossbow.

Brid: Not wasting my javelins.

Arthur: Um... do I even have ranged weapons?

DM: .... Okay, well, assuming Kory’s still hidden, she has advantage.

-----

DM: It’s a calm morning on the high seas. What are you guys doing?

Lily: Playing solitaire.

Val: Reading one of my books.

Brid: Watching the seas.

Arthur: ... Doing push-ups?

DM: “Yarr! It seems we’re out of food, me hearties! Good thing I have some fishing rods!”

Brid: I cast “Create Food and Water”.

DM: ... “Yarr, I guess not. Thanks, lass.”

Brid: No problemo.

DM: The captain of the ship is performing the same ritual he was doing yesterday. Everything seems to be going normally until he stands up. “Yarr! We’re in trouble!”

Val: I ask him what’s up.

DM: “See here!” He gestures to the bowl of water he’s performing the ritual in.

Val: I look?

DM: Within the bowl, you can see many shapes. Most of them are fishlike... but there’s one that looks really weird. *draws a shape on paper* Like that. It’s swimming towards the floating compass, on the left side.

Lily: Uh... um... a dragon?

Brid: Looks like a Pokemon.

Arthur: I have no clue. Angelfish?

Val: *shrug*

DM: “Yarr! It’s getting closer! We best deal with it before it destroys the ship!”

Brid: I run outside.

DM: “It be on the starboard side!”

Lily: I hide.

Val: Of course you do...

DM: “It be five feet away from starboard, lass!”

Arthur: I join her.

Val: Eh, I’ll just hang back.

DM: Okay, so Verity and Grustat are on the deck, right? Okay, so the two of you hear a quiet bump on the side of the ship.

Brid: I glance over the edge of the ship.

DM: Floating there in the water is a pale-skinned merman with fluffy blonde hair, flawless skin, and sea-blue eyes. There is a blue tail where a human’s legs would be. For now, it looks surprised at seeing you.

Brid: I... say hi to it?

DM: It doesn’t say anything, it just cocks its head.

Arthur: I’m not going near that thing on account of wearing heavy armor.

DM: You’re wearing medium.

Lily: Still hiding.

Val: ... I’m just gonna walk out there next to them.

Brid: I attempt to communicate to it that i’m friendly, by reaching my hand out.

DM: Roll me a charisma check.

Brid: *rolls* 9.

DM: It inches closer to your hand and touches it carefully with its own.

Brid: I attempt to talk with it again. “Hey, sweetie! Nice to meet you!”

Lily: STILL HIDING

Val: Okay, I’m 90% sure that mermen have blue skin and not, um... pale... skin. So... I don’t think that’s a mermaid.

DM: Roll me an arcana check.

Val: *rolls* 12.

DM: You’re doubtful, but you can’t shake the possibility that it’s not a real merman. You’ve never seen one before, anyway. Anyway, the merman begins to play with Varity’s hand and rub it against his face.

Arthur: Does someone have a crush on you?

Brid: Maybe?

Lily: Still hiding.

Val: “Oh, come on out here, you coward!” I say that in character.

Lily: I silently give Morgan the middle finger. I’m not giving up my advantage roll for shit, okay?

DM: You know the deck doesn’t have see-through railings and you can just sneak behind the crates, right?

Lily: Fine, I do that then. I sneak between the crates and the railing.

DM: ... Anyway, Brid, you’re interacting with the merman. What next?

Brid: I attempt to say something again. “Can you speak to me?”

DM: The merman continues fondling your hand. It seems to have taken a liking to you, and gazes up at you fondly.

Arthur: Awwww!

DM: It then releases your hand, grabs the railing, and climbs up the side of the boat.

Lily: I cast mage hand and push him off.

DM: ... Why?

Lily: Kory’s kind of an asshole.

DM: Wait, can mage hand-

Lily: It can lift ten pounds, right? So, I should be able to shove him.

DM: .... The merman lets out a squeak and falls back into the water.

Brid: Why the fuck would you do that?!

Lily: In character, I shrug.

Brid: In character, I call you an asshole. And then I apologize to the poor boy.

DM: He pops his head out of the water again. However, the moment he does so, you hear an explosion. It sounds like it’s coming from the bottom of the boat. When the merman hears the explosion, he disappears underwater.

Lily: I’ll go check. I stay ducked and run to the trapdoor.

Brid: Noooo! My friend!

DM: Okay, Lily, do you open the trapdoor?

Lily: Yeah.

DM: There is a hole in the hull of the ship. It’s not very big right now, but water is slowly filling up the basement.

Lily: Oh, shit.

DM: What are the rest of you doing out on the deck?

Brid: Looking for my friend.

Arthur: Panicking.

Val: Hey, where’s the captain, anyway?

DM: The captain runs out onto the deck. “Yarr! We’ve been breached! What be the cause?!” Suddenly, a figure pops up above the railing, grabs the captain, and slits his throat with a dagger. It’s your merman friend. And he’s got a pair of legs instead of a tail this time.

Lily: I knew he was evil!

Brid: Oh, come on! He must have a reason!

Arthur: You get way too attached to fictional characters.

DM: “Now I’ve got you right where I want you. Oh, and the flashy girl over there? You’re adorable.”

Brid: I was this close to getting a boyfriend.

DM: Okay, roll for initiative, everyone.

------

#ace hang

2 notes · View notes