#i have a lot of feelings about this stupid paladin and found family

[kayzowl]

talking to you isn't great (8347 words) by kayzowl Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Simon Aumar & Edgin Darvis & Kira Darvis & Doric & Holga Kilgore & Xenk Yendar Characters: Xenk Yendar, Edgin Darvis, Kira Darvis, Holga Kilgore, Simon Aumar, Doric (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves) Additional Tags: Minor Simon Aumar/Doric, Autistic Xenk Yendar, leading up to xedgin if youre looking for it, POV Xenk Yendar, Oneshot, Found Family, no beta we die like men, Post-Movie Summary:

Xenk has been accused of lacking conversational acumen in the past, and likely will be again. But for some reason, this time, he wants it to go differently.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-week Day 3 - mutual pining

i'm challenging myself to keep each of these at 660 words; see day one for more of an explanation!

Eddie's campaign notes:

Front:

Broad-chested paladin named steve stephano stevas with immaculate golden skin and chestnut hair, oath of the crown watchers, who decides to come along when he finds out the party is heading to

young rogue meets the party and wants to tag along but their overprotective older brother stolas (stop with the st names!!) insists on coming along in order for the rogue to join

jeeves carrington, eventual big bad who butles for the party while they're at the

Asshole King prince stefan havisham (great job getting away from an st name, idiot) who wants to join the party on their quest and get out of the palace for a while

He’s part of the kingdom of the sun so he takes his family’s heirloom, the Sun Blade along with him (he's trained as a knight and is already proficient in long swords) ((1d8 +2 bonus to attack and damage, radiant not slashing undead = + extra 1d8 rad. damage.))

Back:

He butts heads with all of them at first but learned a lot from the party and becomes actually a good dude)

The prince ends up falling for a tiefling bard they meet in passing on the road

Prince would’ve been an asshole to the tiefling at first, but when the bard saves him from a very obvious trap, he starts to back off “Watch where you’re stepping, sunshine.”, “Why do you call me that?”, Edmund (needs to be something different or they'll catch on!!!), who’s fallen head over tail for the prince already: “Because i’m a creature of the night and hate the sun, obviously”

him and Stefan butt heads the whole time he's along for the journey but when the bard is gravely injured it’s revealed how much he cares for the prince. The prince too has fallen for the bard and rides off with him to the nearest village to a healer

The prince and bard get married and live happily ever after

ugh, gross. too much, eddie

Steve's (L to R, top to bottom):

May 25th

It’s been a couple months since spring break and Eddie and Max are finally out of the hospital. We got lucky, I think, our plan working out and all, but seeing them both there really sucked.

Max’ll get her cast off eventually, and Eddie's “heroics” cost him a pound of flesh but they’re alive and so is Hopper.

Now we just gotta get Eddie's name cleared.

July 18th

I think there’s something wrong with me.

The assholes were over again today and that meant Eddie was too. Shirtless... In the pool.. Wet.. tattooed…

You’d think that seeing his scars would make me sick, make me think of the blood, the crying, that goddamn place.. But there was a whole different kind of swirling in my gut about it

Ew! Gross!

Robin, stay out of my journal

Oct 11th

Ok. yep. I definitely want to kiss him.

I want to kiss Eddie Munson on that stupid pretty face of his.

Robs and I went to indy and found this bookstore heading back to the car from that cafe we like and it was a gay store. it had books and pamflit pampflet brosures booklet things about gay stuff and the cashier was super nice.. we spent hours there. 

I’m bisexual.

Nov 5th

Gross!!!

ROBIN STAY OUT

Ok, this isn’t fair.

Every single thought in my brain recently is about him. How would he kiss me? Would I make the first move or would he? What would it feel like if it was his hand instead of mine? Would his rings hurt? Nope. they’d feel amazing.

I want to hug him, i want to hold his hand, i want to fuckin marry him..

Steve Munson Theodore Harrington? ❤ (<- can you believe that’s actually his first name?? I couldn't believe it when Wayne told me).

Wait. You can combine names when you get married (no, I haven’t been researching anything, shut up) So Harringson? Munington?

We’ll have a fall wedding.

it was still 660 words on wordcounter.net too 😌

on AO3 here!

[utilitycaster]

Something that I find misses the point so completely it is breathtaking is when people are like "this player hates engaging with their backstory" about the CR cast. It's pretty much never true, and what's worst is that I've seen it the most about Travis and Taliesin, two of the players who I think have the strongest grasp on how to create and engage with a backstory.

The choice to have a character who avoids elements of their past can be a valid, informed, and deliberate character choice. People run from their pasts! People decide not to pursue things for a number of reasons - because it hurts too much, because they're scared to know the answer, because they think the people around them don't care, and because their interests change. Caduceus very much is an avoidant character. He has access to Sending by the time we first meet him, and he never uses it to try to contact his family. That's not Taliesin being stupid or avoiding. That's Caduceus making a conscious choice to not ask the question "is my family dead" because he is terrified the answer is yes. He waits for a concrete sign to go after his family to the point of deep loneliness and self-harm out of this fear. That's a crucial trait that you need to understand him as a character! Ashton is also on some level similar in that he engages in no shortage of harmful, wallowing, and self-indulgent behaviors - and that is a choice. They also have obviously messy feelings about the Hishari and it's pretty plain to see they feel extremely conflicted about their growing bonds with Bells Hells because now they'll feel bad if Bells Hells leaves them. So of course he's hesitant to bring this to Orym, because then he's entrusted Orym with this information, and he has to care, and again, this is a major part of who Ashton is.

The same goes with Fjord and Vandran (and Sabian). One of the core themes of Fjord's story is deciding whether to run from or embrace your past, and which parts of that past you want to bring forward as you change, which means that to explore that, he has to do some running! He makes efforts to learn more about where they are (going to search for Vandran during the Zadash downtime; hiring a bounty hunter for Sabian) but those get interrupted by Fjord's shifting feelings about Vandran, and fact that this is an ensemble and the story naturally shifts.

Which brings us to the practical element. Fjord doesn't want to release Uk'otoa at the time, so it makes sense to return to the mainland and process next steps, and the focus of the story then turns to rescuing Yeza, and then finding Yasha, and rescuing Caduceus's family, and changing Veth back, and brokering peace, and TravelerCon, and Eiselcross. Through this, he still in fact does quite a lot of backstory work (changing patrons and taking a paladin oath, asking Jester to contact Vandran), as well as an immense amount of character growth and engagement with the ongoing story, but Travis doesn't wrench everything off its natural course just to check off every box on Fjord's list, because that would be selfish, obnoxious, and not fun to watch. And Caduceus achieves exactly what he set out to do! He found and rescued his family and found a way to hold off the corruption! Despite his avoidance, he covers all the bases! And as for Ashton...we've had precious little time to cover anyone's backstory in depth other than Imogen's, and we've actually seen a decent amount of Ashton's backstory regardless with their contacts in Bassuras and their interactions with Jiana. There simply was not time in Bassuras to stray from the main objectives and search for the Nobodies, and I think if we had people would be annoyed since that arc already took a very long time (and, for what it's worth, rather like Fjord, Ashton has explicitly asked after The Nobodies. Do not mistake lack of payoff for character disinterest).

It is, to me, incredibly telling this criticism is most commonly seen about the two players who I think also get the most "well they had an central arc/more focus than my fave" criticism.There's no way to make everyone in the fandom happy, and I think Travis and Taliesin are the players at the table who most understand that and give the least fucks about what the fandom thinks, and who (possibly relatedly) have some of the strongest grasps of narrative and what it means to play in an ensemble. Which is in my opinion a major factor in why their characters are so good - even the ones I do not vibe with are fully realized and well-crafted, because the players are not trying to make likeable characters, but rather interesting ones, and they're not trying to take center stage, but rather be generous at the table.

[feeble13]

NEW DURGE??? What’s their name, what class are they, do they have a backstory, are they going to resist everything??

OODkflvjgffgf OK SO (long rant incoming)

name: Kelran (Kel) pros: he/him (also trans cause i cant make one oc without projecting) romance: astarion because.. i miss my boy. also maybe halsin? havent fully decided that class: oathbreaker paladin!

resist or not? (and backstory): in the end, i want him to have resisted bhaal i think. i do want the slayer form just because of how i envisioned his character, but also i dont want to kill the grove (just because i personally cant kill the grove and i just want to make this playthrough enjoyable for me). i think him as a character is very prone to his father's pressure, so when he is asked to kill isobel, he feel obligated to. so its gonna be a resist, not resist, resist kind of deal. like after killing isobel hes like 'wow ive really grown to not like this..' lol when it comes to the grove, he sees himself in the scared children. in his lore, he was pressured by yk the temple of bhaal to BE bhaal's vision. so he became bhaals vision, as bhaal's chosen does. but kel was still a scared little boy under pressure. so when it comes to arabella, he sees her fear and doesnt know what he feels when he sees her, but what he is feeling is empathy. when it comes to orin, he was always the big distant brother, so absorbed in his own life and lust fo violence he never really bonded with her. he kind of just saw her as another person in the temple, and someone out of control, for that matter. in a way, he looked down on her for how easily taken over she was when it comes to her urge. the distance and the looking down is what made orin so hateful towards him. temple life for him was basically just intimidating others into doing what he wants, and he was praised for it. honestly if he wasnt engaging in violence, banging gortash or working on the master plan to take over the world or whatever, he was literally louging being treated like royalty. i picture him as elegant in a way? just oddly graceful. a BIG part of his character is the fact he has a lot of piercings and wears a lot of jewlery, so how i picture him is having nipple piercings and walking shirtless in the temple, and only wearing pants. even with just that, he is extremely talented in his violence, he can kill someone just in his 'casual wear.' another part of kel is he has LONG red hair, almost as long as orins. but he wears it down, and its wavy. he does wear it in a mix of braids and loose locks.

kel's personality is blunt, intimidating. like hes this BIG guy and he is an oathbreaker, so he has this unsettling aura to him. and he CONSTANTLY looks angry. but he just. has this soft spot for his companions. he'd never show it (unless its astarion later on), but ultimately it is his little found family. so he is overprotective of them in the end. at the beginning, he refuses connection.

when it comes to astarion, kel felt this bond over a craving for violence and blood. and kel had an immediate lust with astarion, just something about that vampire i swear. when kel found out astarion is a vampire, it became stronger because he also had that.. yk lust for blood in a similar way, this craving that could never be sated properly. so they bonded over that in their own fucked up way, but after a while kel just.. felt something deeper, past the lust and well, bloodlust, but he didnt know what it was. he thought it was a deep wanting to see his 'pretty corpse' (ref to first line when interacting with astarion as durge). but what he felt was love, deep, deep love. and only really expressed this to star AFTER the whole.. isobel kill your lover situation. so adding onto his fathers pressure was the threat of killing his lover, which he would do ANYTHING for star. astarion would say 'im cold' and kel would burn the whole world down, kind of love. like he LOVES this stupid twink vampire. and kel DESTROYS cazador. like he is in a fit of rage with astarion and lets astarion do the final blows, but im talking like. DESTROYS cazador. like pisses on his corpse and hangs it up for people to ridicule. and astarion and kel ultimately bond over that yk controlling, will never exscape presense in their lives (bhaal and cazador), if that makes sense. they bond over their hatred for their abusers and make a pact to each other to resist against what they were raised to be to be better for each other. so i think they are cute for that <3

i think kel also really bonded with each companion in their own ways, but mainly laezel and shadowheart. with laezel, its that need for battle, rn? and with shadowheart, its the memory thing. its HIS little fucked up found family and he will protect them with his LIFE. even as an oathbreaker, he made a quiet oath to protect them at all costs.

if you want PLEASE ask me more questions as i want to develop his lore like SO MUCH. but this is what i got so far. most of this i just developed as i typed out this post. but this is probably my favourite durge so far <3 i will drop art/pics if you want!

sorry its so long LOL if you made it to the end i love you 😭

[jamessunderlandgf]

—what’s at your character’s core?

HEYYYY besties 💋 tagged by @gwynbleidd to do this uquizzie uwu mwah tagging: @jackiesarch 💋 @unholymilf 💋 @corvosattano 💋 @florbelles 💋 @risingsh0t 💋 @adelaidedrubman 💋 @pinkfey 💋 @pitchmoss 💋 @cetra 💋 @bethesdas 💋 @lavampira 💋 @thedeadthree 💋 @marazhaiaezyrraesh 💋 @oh-mali 💋 @scalpelsister 💋 @ghostfvcker 💋 @kyber-infinitygems 💋 and you!!

—SPUN GOSSAMER

the easiest thing to do is stay quiet when something’s up. you’re not bothered, and you know what? you shouldn’t be! it’s none of your business, even when it’s entirely your business. it’s difficult (read: impossible) to tell if your cheery demeanor is a cover-up for something sadder, or if it’s simply your natural state of mind. you see a lot of things: people coming through town, people leaving the house and never coming back, lies and deceit of the highest degree. what happened to you? will you ever be that kid again? your presence smells like cotton candy, and your fingertips sparkle like stars. whatever white rabbit you’re chasing isn’t going to lead you to wonderland if you don’t start reaching out when you’re not feeling okay.

—FLIGHTLESS BIRD

the thought of your found family is what motivates you in your own little world. you touch the clouds, and the soil gives way under your footprints... this is utopia. if you were to erase one thing, it would be your memory. experience is important, but ignorance is bliss. identity, in heaven, should give way to happiness. you'd give anything just to sit by the swings and eat ice cream, but this isn't that kind of world. you have to get up and wash the dirt off of your scraped knees. i think you have an escapism problem.

—BEHIND THE MASK

you aren’t slick about whatever you think you’re hiding. glass shatters in your midst, blood spills, children scream. like some of your friends, your personality of choice is entirely artificial. the difference between you and them is that you can get away with it. you’re unknown, perhaps even to yourself, and your goals are complex and unknown. anyone stupid enough to fall for you is setting themselves up to be frustrated and confused, owing to your being ultimately unknowable. i hope you can find an identity that makes you comfortable.

—ACERBIC WIT

you're a mentor — an old scarred wolf, an injured soldier, a disgraced paladin. your teachings read as shamelessly pretentious, speaking in rhymes and biting down hard into anyone stupid enough to make the wrong move. this isn't your first life, nor your second, nor your sixth — you'll make the most of your time shackled to this world, no matter how many loops it takes to get it right. with every defeat, you reincarnate; a little smarter, a little quicker, crueler and nastier. will you choose to be brutal, equalizing, that final strike in the face of your enemies? will you go soft, become tender and domesticated? the choice is yours. it's not like i can stop you.

—CAUTERIZING RAGE

the house has burned around you, and you’re the only one left standing. is it gratifying to be the survivor? fear and anger are weapons in your capable hands, used only to serve your agenda of fighting back when deemed necessary. you're a powerful person, built from the ashes of your despair and your family's mistakes. with time, you'll bloom into someone softer, like the full blossoms that grow each spring and wither away with the leaves in fall. they won't disappear if you take your eyes off of them. you're enough.

—RIPPLING SUNSET

you’re the nicest person i’ll ever meet, probably. with an undying passion to protect those who can’t protect themselves, you’re energetic and bubbly to a fault. it’s cute, watching you run around trying to tie up loose ends. i feel bad for you — out of everyone you know, you probably have some of the deepest trauma, more than anyone’s aware of. this isn’t something that you want attention for at all, and you’d really just rather forget it exists at all… even then, it seems like you can never escape it. i wish you a pleasant rest of your life, full of rippling sunsets and free of prying eyes.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Keeping Faith

Summary: Grimbeard visits Meredith in her cell after she's been processed. He has some rather unfortunate news about her chances of being found innocent of the charges laid against her.

Words: 2,259

Warnings: one incredibly brief mention of potential suicide by starvation at the end. Also, creative use of language (i.e swearing) and angst. Lots of angst.

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @odysseywritings, @writeblrsupport

note: this is a continuation of the story started in Where Secrets Lie

Garl Grimbeard, while not the smartest dwarf in the mountain city of Fangthane, was a shrewd man. He knew that the only reason he now held the position he did was because he was useful to those with more power than him. He honestly didn’t mind that. It was easier than trying to amass too much power for himself. It did, however, mean that he had to deal with the problems those with more power didn’t want to deal with. 

The recently instituted High Inquisitor glanced down at the report slate he’d been handed by Fergus the moment he and his companions had returned from their foray down into the Contemplation Chamber. A smile crept across his face, twisting into a sneer,

“Oh what a shame indeed.” he chuckled, “That such an esteemed member o’ the clergy should fall so far.” he added, striding into the cell block that held the prisoner so recently captured. He stopped in front of one of the cells, pulling over a stool to sit on.

The woman on the other side of the bars scoffed, blue eye glaring daggers from beneath partially unbraided auburn curls,

“Aye, and hello to you too Grimebeard.” Meredith greeted, “Mind telling me whose dick ye sucked off to bag High Inquisitor?” she asked. Grimbeard tutted,

“No need for such insinuations about my sexuality, Gruksdottir.” He said, “I got this position on the merit of my achievements, as has every other High Inquisitor before me.” He glanced down at the report slate briefly before looking back up at the younger dwarf, smiling widely, “T’was a wee bit daft to think we wouldn’t notice you getting into the Contemplation Chamber, I honestly thought you were smarter than that. Or did yer girlfriend do the thinkin’ for you both?” 

Meredith resisted the urge to get up from her seat to try throttling the sneering git through the bars. She scowled at him,

“Did it no’ cross your mind that the only reason I’m in here is because I want to be?” she sniped. Grimbeard chuckled and leaned forward,

“Oh, most certainly. The fact that my Inquisitors managed to get a hold of ye without much of a fight is a bit o’ a giveaway.” He leaned back and tilted his head slightly, “Now then, I ken full well that ye’re like to try dragging my name back through the muck to save yer own skin. You’d be stupid not to. But there’s just one bitty, wee problem with that plan.” he paused for a moment, staring at Meredith, still smiling at her.

Meredith frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in the bottom of her stomach. Grimbeard was too calm, too certain that he would be able to have all of Meredith’s accusations against him utterly refuted. Her heart sank, slowly realising that, if Grimbeard held the position he did, Starhammer’s report had never made it back to Fangthane. She stared blankly at the still smiling Oozemaster in front of her. How deep did this corruption go? How many clerics and paladins that had supposedly faithfully served Moradin while in Toreguarde were using that faith as a shield in order to discredit Starhammer and Toreguarde? She knew Grimbeard was guilty, had seen and heard for herself what he and his family had planned to do, and what they had already done. 

Grimbeard chuckled again,

“Now ye understand.” he crowed, “Given that ye didn’t have much of anything on ye when we caught ye, I think ye might’ve left the evidence ye need all the way back in Toreguarde. Bit o’ a shame that, especially since ye can’t exactly go askin’ yer friends to bring it here now ye’re stuck in a cell.” The middle aged dwarf stood, quickly checked that the two of them were alone, then stepped neatly through the bars, his body squelching and sizzling where the bars passed through it. He leaned into Meredith’s face with a satisfied sneer,

“Ye’re finished hen, and ye’ve only yourself to blame.” he said quietly. Meredith glared up at the steely, grey-blue eyes, a flame of indignation burning in her chest,

“Ye might have won this battle ye hackit, bawbag-eyed, scabby wankstain, but ye’ll get what’s coming sooner or later.” she growled. Grimbeard shook his head with a derisory snort,

“You can insult me all ye want, hen, it’s not going to change the fact that ye’re gonna hang in a couple of weeks. I suggest ye take the time you have left to think about how ye’re going to say your goodbyes to your family, yer betrothed included.” Grimbeard turned on his heel and walked back out of the cell, pausing briefly as he heard Meredith’s surprised inhalation. His sadistic smile widened as he strode off wordlessly even as Meredith leapt from her cot, clanging into the bars,

“When?” she called, voice tense, “When, ye swarfy, saag-y, ha’rak?!” When she received no answer, Meredith snarled and shoved herself away from the bars as forcefully as she could manage, making them rattle with the motion. The cleric ignored the sting in her hands from where she’d gripped the bars that Grimbeard had slipped through, her mind too rattled and caught up in Grimbeard’s parting words to her.

He was back. Her beloved Yoruk was back in the mount. Only to come home to discover that his love was falsely imprisoned and to be executed. 

Meredith leaned against the wall of her cell and slid to the floor, her mind reeling. As much as she loathed to admit it, Grimbeard was right. All she had was her word of the events that had transpired between them; all of the physical evidence was stored somewhere in watchhouse eight, far beyond her ability to reach. What had she been thinking? Well, that was the problem; her decision to leave Toreguarde had been made in the spur of a moment. She hadn't really been thinking about the potential problems she would come across once she got back to the mountain. 

Meredith pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. As much as she wanted to rage and scream at the sheer injustice of it all, it wouldn't help matters. The best she could do now was try her best to convince the council that her word was true. She didn't dare think about what would likely happen if she couldn't.

Meredith didn't bother looking up when she heard the door to the cell block open and the echoing footsteps of someone approaching. It was probably just the guard making sure she was still in the cell.

"Here, it's not much, but you do at least get fed." A familiar voice said. Meredith frowned as she slowly raised her head. Vera huffed a melancholic sigh as she sat on the floor and placed the tray she was carrying next to her,

"I heard Grimebeard gloating to himself on his way past." She said after a moment's silence, "For what it's worth, I don't believe a single word he's said about you. Neither does the high priest for that matter." Meredith allowed herself a small smile,

"I didn't think so. Ragnarsson hates him, it's why the slimy sod was sent to Toreguarde at the earliest opportunity." She said. The younger woman heaved a sigh, "Not that having Ragnarsson on my side helps any. It's my word against the high inquisitor, and what evidence I did have to refute the allegations against me is all the way back in Toreguarde." Vera shook her head, sliding the tray of food through a hatch in the door of the cell,

"I'm sorry. I should've just let you go. At least you'd have had a chance to get out of here." She murmured. Meredith shrugged,

"Maybe, but I doubt I would have, and you would've ended up in a heap of trouble yourself if the others found out you let me get away." She pointed out. Vera grumbled, leaning her back against the bars,

"Fair point." She glanced over to Meredith, "Still you're in there because of me. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" She asked. Meredith grimaced,

"Aye, actually, there is. If you can, I want you to send this to my family." The cleric shoved a small, leather notebook into Vera's hands, "Fergus couldn't confiscate this since I'm permitted to keep non magical personal items." Vera took the book, a confused frown settling onto her face,

"Of course I can, but why?" Meredith closed her eyes and placed a hand onto the wall of her cell. The antimagic field could prevent her from using any magic, but it couldn't stop her from using her more innate abilities. 

"Show me where the guard is please?" She ground out in Terran. The elemental of Fangthane roused at the touch, grumbled a bit at the disturbance, but allowed Meredith to see where and what the guard at the entrance of her cellblock was doing. The dwarven man had both feet up on the desk, arms crossed over his chest, and was snoozing. Meredith smiled and opened her eyes again, only to see a stunned expression on Vera's face.

"We're good, the guard's asleep." 

"I never knew you were a Stonespeaker." Vera said, her voice hushed in awe. Meredith waved a hand dismissively,

"And a bunch of other things besides, but I need you to focus, because this is important." She hissed. Vera blinked at the younger woman and nodded,

"Aye, you're right. So why do I need to get this to your family?" She asked, holding the journal up. Meredith paused for a moment, debating how much she could trust this other woman. A gentle warmth blossomed near her heart and she felt, rather than heard,

You can trust her. She's faithful.

Feeling better, Meredith sent Vera a stern look,

"Because it explains why all this happened.” She stated simply, “To give you as brief a summary as I can; it has my personal accounts of what really went down with Grimbeard in Toreguarde and everything that happened thereafter. There’s a corruption in this church that needs to be completely rooted out if we want any chance at peace. Tell my parents that, if anyone asks about this journal, that it’s one I left there and that no one but the people they can absolutely trust with their lives can see it.” Meredith started to talk faster as Vera’s eyes widened, her throat burning with emotion,

“Once I’m… you know… get them out of the mountain. Get them as far away from here as you can because Grimbeard and whoever’s bankrolling him won’t stop with me.” Vera grasped at Meredith’s hand, her own shaking,

“No, I can’t… I won’t let this stand!” she exclaimed, “If what you say is true, then I cannot allow you to die for the transgressions that Grimebeard has committed.” Meredith shook her head,

“If you try to get involved with that, you’ll only end up in the same situation.” she said, voice tight, “All I need you to do is, quietly, spread the word to those you know can be trusted. Those responsible for this sickness will get what’s coming to them, but you can’t help Moradin if you’re dead too.” she pointed out. Vera choked back a quiet sob, tears already making their way down her face,

“What if we can get word to your friends in Toreguarde?” she asked plaintively. Meredith swallowed thickly and shook her head,

“They have enough problems of their own to deal with. I can’t let them get involved in this, because if they do, it means war. And none of us can afford that.” Vera opened her mouth to reply once more when the floor under the feet of both women vibrated. Meredith’s eyes went wide,

“Schist.” she hissed, “You’d better go, Fergus has come looking for you.” Vera leapt to her feet, stuffing the journal Meredith had given her into the inside pocket of her vestments.She wiped off her face before looking to Meredith again,

“Don’t give up yet. Wheresoever there is darkness in the world, the smallest light can shine.” she intoned, before making her expression as neutral as possible as the door to the cellblock opened with a clatter,

“What’s taking ye so bloody long?” Fergus demanded. Vera snorted,

“Tryin’ to convince our heretic friend here not to starve to death afore she could be brought to justice.” she replied irritably. Fergus rolled his eyes,

“Waste of time if ye ask me.” he muttered, “It would save us a bunch o’ bother and paperwork.” Vera shrugged, already walking out the door,

“Aye, well, his grace apparently wants to make sure she lives long enough to make it to trial.” she called. Fergus glared at Meredith, who glared right back at him. The longbeard kicked the bars, then stalked out of the block, yelling at the guard on duty and leaving Meredith alone once more. 

Meredith settled into a meditative position and bowed her head, 

“No matter what happens to me, please protect her and all those who keep their faith in you.” she muttered. Meredith grimaced as she felt the feminine touch of Throff in her chest, but no answering warmth from Moradin. Whatever it was Grimbeard and his accomplices were doing to the dwarf father, it was clearly worse than she thought it was. For now, all she could do was hope that things could be rectified before the worst parts of her vision in the Contemplation Chamber came to pass.

[faerune]

a lil info dump about thea ☀

angelkin aasimar! the first in her family to manifest said bloodline

her angel ancestor is lariel because i said so (grandfather? great-grandfather?) and also i love tying stuff into canon

neutral to chaotic good! fuck the alignment requirements for paladins i’ve always thought it was stupid and boring

very friendly, personable, and charismatic. a bit of a flirt too

rage issues

raised in oppara by a pit master who had bought her when she was very young

was always told her parents were poor and sold her to slavers, doesn’t have memories of her parents so she very much internalized this and considers him her father as he raised her

was trained from a very young age as a gladiatorial fighter and became very, very good

enjoyed fighting in the ring and relished in the violence and challenge, really leaned into the theater and drama of it all not to mention craved the approval of her father

she became his “favorite”

suffered a lot of abuse both in and out of the ring unfortunately so fighting and killing and maiming let her get some of her rage out

due to indeterminate causes that i havent decided on yet she snapped and killed her father, escaping north to the river kingdoms 

there she found succor in a temple of iomadae

after staying there for a few weeks she decided to commit and train as a paladin

years of training and thea started to feel out what her own divinity and heritage meant to her, finding comfort in iomadae’s teachings as it helped temper her rage and anger (at least a little :’) she still struggles a lot with it)

feels like she is still stained by violence

after her training she traveled north to mendev to join the crusade, feeling like to die fighting demons and helping people could atone for her being so “broken” (yells @ her YOU’RE NOT BROKEN BABY) and causing so much suffering

[vee-is-a-clown]

Merry belated Christmas y'all!

There's Klangst a fic under there \/

-----

When traveling through space, there's no sun to orbit that tells you how to measure your time. That's become an odd issue for the paladins. Luckily, the Altean's already have a database of quite a lot of planets' time measures. Apparently they needed it a lot for alliances. They didn't have Earth's time in there but Pidge was able to add it really easily.

That database is how Lance knows that Christmas is fast approaching for his loved ones back home. The team's trying to have fun with it and use this as an opportunity to teach Allura and Coran about Earth traditions but Lance doesn't really want to participate. It's not that he actually doesn't want to teach them but he'd rather be teaching them about Earthling traditions on Earth and doing it out in the cold vacuum of space is just a teensy bit depressing.

Ok, that's a lie. Everything about this is depressing. He's stuck in space while his family is celebrating and he's being reminded of it every time he leaves his room. They've put up faux holly-looking plants all around the castle. They're even doing a gift exchange. He's, of course, participating because Lance can't resist a gift exchange for the life of him but other than that, he's not actively part of the celebration.

His family probably think he's dead right now. While he's laying in this alien bed, feeling pathetic and homesick, they're either mourning their not-dead son or worried sick about where he could possibly be. They're probably using his terrible 9th grade school photo for a memorial.

All of this is bothering Lance much more than he'd like to admit. He's not the kinda guy who tells people how he's really feeling. Sure, he'll complain about things and he'll be open with his reactions but he keeps the depressing stuff inside. He doesn't want to bring down the mood.

If he did talk about his issues, nobody would take him seriously. Once he tried to tell Pidge and Hunk about his problems back in the Garrison and they tried to seem supportive but he could tell that they didn't really believe him. He's the upbeat energetic one. He isn't capable of being depressed like everyone else is. He knows that everyone around him has good intentions but he still doesn't feel comfortable.

He's stuck in the box that he's been put in which makes it so he can't be anything but the dumb goofball who thinks he's just as good as Keith. Every time he isn't excited about something, every time he's pessimistic, every time he's not overly expressive. It's like he's built up this mask and without it, he doesn't know who he is.

He *should* be excited about Christmas. That's why it burns so much. He can feel the weight of the expectations his teammates have for him. There's got to be something wrong with him. He's not acting "normal".

Lance would cry at this point but he hasn't cried in a while. He's found that aside from physical pain, it's hard for him to bring himself to shed a tear. As much as he wants to let it out, there's a part of him that won't let him. He's stuck.

That's when it happened.

Two really hard knocks in quick succession.

Keith.

Lance had learned that Keith knocked on his door the same way every single time. It's predictable, a pattern. It's how he knows that Keith's on the other side of that door, expecting to be let in. Lance doesn't want to let him in though. He's not going to let Keith try to unravel his facade. He's not going to let Keith give him one of his really bad talks that shouldn't work but work anyway. Nope. Not going to happen. He's just going to pretend he's asleep.

It's a shame his body doesn't agree. By the time he realizes what he's doing, he's already up and opening the door to let Keith in.

The door whooshes open to reveal Keith's stupid, handsome face and his stupid mullet.

"Hey Lance."

"Hi."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, Keith. You can go."

"Wait, what?"

"You won't gain anything from this."

"Huh?"

"Go. Shoo. Adiós."

"Lance, I legitimately don't know what you're talking about."

"That's a lie."

"Lance, could you stop being an asshole and at least explain why you want me to go?"

"It's pretty obvious, Keith. I've barely left my room since we heard it's Christmas season back on Earth and I'm not all peppy n' excited so you guys think I'm depressed or something."

"Lance-"

"What? Were you the last to say 'not it' and now you have to come talk some sense into me?"

Lance doesn't know why he's being emotional. He just wants to be alone and Keith's here, refusing to leave. Not exactly refusing, actually but he's not leaving. It's like the tiny little last straw to break the camel's back, the tiny little last crack before the glass bottle holding his emotions back shatters into a million pieces and spills all over the floor for everyone to see.

Keith didn't even have to try.

Just his presence is enough to make Lance fall apart.

What is wrong with him? Actually, it may be too late to ask that. Maybe that should've been asked during the contemplating life on his bed. But that's off topic. He probably just made Keith just about a thousand times more concerned than before.

"Wait, Lance! That isn't what this is about."

"Then what is it about?"

The acidity in his voice is apparent. He doesn't want to sound like that. He doesn't want to be mean. Keith has done nothing wrong. He's probably here to ask Lance if he wants to train with him or something and Lance fucked it up. Well done, idiot. Well done.

Keith seems to've forgotten how to do his famous "I don't have emotions because I'm cool and Keith" pokerface. His face is visibly negative. It's hard to describe but probably some mix of a lot of concern, a dash of disappointment, and a twinge of sadness. It's one of the many things Keith will never admit he's gotten from his brother. Shiro makes the same face when he can tell something's wrong but knows he can't fix it.

"Lance, you don't seem ok."

"Oh?! You think?"

Why can't he just be nice? Lance can't stop the sarcasm from leaving his mouth. Just stop it. He doesn't want to take his negative emotions out on Keith. That's the last thing he wants to do right now. If only Keith would leave. He doesn't really want Keith to leave though.

"Right, right. So what should I do about that?"

Keith leans against the doorway, his head tilting in progress. He crosses his arms like he's decided that he's not going to leave until Lance does something. He should know. Keith's done this before. He always seems to know just about when Lance's ready to burst, when he's bottled up his emotions for too long and can't take it anymore. Maybe it's from experience.

"Keith, this isn't going to work. You can't help me."

That was a horrible, terrible lie and Lance is really hoping Keith can tell. He wants Keith to help. Or does he? His brain is currently on the fence about that. He wants to have someone to tell everything to but he also doesn't want a another word to escape his lips. What a conundrum!

Keith's giving a doubting look like he's not buying it and will keep giving him that look until he lets Keith help him. Is that good? Lance really needs to decide soon.

"The only way you can get me out of this doorway is by inviting me in."

"I could close the door on you."

Keith smiles one of those smiles where it's funny but not enough to laugh and Lance's brain pauses. Keith smiled. Oh great. Now that's going to bounce around his brain with all his other thoughts. It can join the catalog of Keith's blush worthy facial expressions.

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"I will because I don't need your help. There's nothing wrong."

Does that make sense? He just said, "You can't help me". Is that an admission of there being something wrong? Is he contradicting himself?

"You literally just said, 'I'm having an existential crisis'."

"No, I didn't."

"Well that's what I heard. Tell me about it."

Does Keith ever give up? Lance has seen it a few times from a distance but those times it's been inevitable. When Keith can't beat the training simulation or needs to sleep. Keith only gives up when he runs into physical boundaries (even though he's really bad at it). Never has Lance seen Keith willingly back down when he runs into an emotional boundary. He's the one that pushes the paladins to open up.

Lance, however, has not opened up to Keith about his problems in a hot minute and it seems like it's his turn.

"Fine, but make it snappy."

Keith smiles that stupid "I won" smile that he gives when he -ya' know- wins. It's kinda like a sly smile but not really a smirk. Does that make sense? It probably doesn't.

Lance reluctantly steps aside. He doesn't plan to tell Keith everything but knowing himself, he probably will and he's got a long night ahead of him.

-----

@snoopkat14 Hey Kat, I'm so sorry. Happy holidays?

[rollingourinitiatives]

30 Days of Naberius

Prompt list can be located here! Shout out to spacegod-of-coffee for putting it together.

11. Friends

(Do they have any? Or are they a loner? Any reason why?)

Naberius has a lot more acquaintances than friends. Other anthropologists he's worked with, researchers he's met on digs and expeditions that he stays in contact with, academics he sometimes reaches out to. He's one of those people who will be able to solve a situation because he 'knows a guy', but isn't particularly close to them.

For people he actually would count as friends or family, there isn't a lot. A few Aarakocra back from when he spent some time with them - the main being Ikki, who he grew close to and now sees almost as a sort of motherly figure. But he hasn't visited her tribe in years.

The closest person he has to him is Senrab. He's known him the longest, and despite being friends since childhood, Naberius still wonders what it is about himself that has Senrab wanting to keep him around, especially with being so private himself. Naberius has long since realized that there's little he could do that would cause Senrab to push him away, so instead he takes comfort in the fact that he can be himself around him - even if that does lead to pulling him along on dangerous adventures with his own chaotic nature.

12. The Party

(Who are their party members? What are their roles? What are they like?)

Much like I did for Natalia when I answered this for her, I'm going to answer this question from Naberius' perspective.

Barsek is the group paladin, and probably the quickest new person Naberius warmed to. He enjoys Barsek's company; especially when it comes to crafting sessions, which is something Naberius finds fascinating to watch him so enthralled by. But Naberius doesn't really realize that he's become somewhat of a bad influence on Barsek when it comes to hoarding items they've found throughout their adventure together so far ...

Donald is the group's healer. Being Aarakocra, Naberius instantly found him interesting and wanted to learn more about him. They've also grown a bond of friendship in their time together - which is hilarious to me, as a player, as Donald is so trusting of Naberius despite him being such a secretive bastard. Naberius likes Donald though, and is always entertained by watching him engage in a fight with someone (especially if their name is Chaddus).

Enna is the group's ranger, and although they haven't spoken as much together one to one, Naberius likes her. He thinks she's kind and he respects her love for nature and animals. She's a wood-elf - which Naberius doesn't know too much of himself, since his father's side was high-elf - and he's so far really intrigued and interested in seeing how differently (positive) she treats others compared to those elves whom he grew up around briefly.

Senrab is a part of this adventure too, as the group rogue. Naberius loves that he gets to adventure with him again, although ... he's not too happy with the fact that their friendship feels somewhat strained right now. Naberius is keeping much of what has been happening to him since after ~ the incident ~ a secret from him, but he knows that he's not being convincing nor is Senrab buying that he's alright - especially not with his spy background. He doesn't really want to face talking about it with him though, and Naberius tries his best to push the attention off his own happenings, both as an act to stop Senrab worrying as well as just simply because he doesn't want to talk about it openly.

13. The Party Role

(What is their job outside of combat? Are they the lookout? The speaker? The piggy bank?)

The agent of chaos? Maybe? He's always doing something stupid. Otherwise, probably group linguist/translator.

[atlasifyllm]

This or That: Writer Edition!!!

open tag from @kudzucataclysm ! open tag for yall too bc i just wanted to ramble with this akjbfgksd

historical or futuristic

I tend to focus either a changed version of our era or the future, ORR just completely rewrite history with batshit insane worldbuilding. As for SUL I really like the mix between futuristic and fantasy elements, like RWBY or Lego Monkie Kid; but I don't really tend to go past the 2000s millenia for my stories lmao

2. the opening chapter or closing chapter

Whenever I have a story I feel like I have a vague plot and only the Point B. Openings are SUPER hard because you have to make sure you hook the reader with the most basic, not-developed-yet versions of the characters. Even harder in trying to study pilot episodes as an animation major @_@.

Fun fact, SUL's ending scene has been the same since 2017!

3. light & fluffy or dark & gritty

I really like exploring darker topics; it'd be a real challenge for me to make something 90% wholesome. However I always want some form of happy ending despite all the darkness. Even looking at the Winter Boys, Cobalt gets his arm cut off, Ventus loses his girlfriend and gets used by his former gang members, and Nix... Nix goes through a lot akjbgsdkgsd, but all of them still find happiness in the end

4. animal companion or found family

Found family! The struggle with animal companions is simply just, not forgetting that they exist lmao. Especially as someone who tends to just do normal dog/cat animals, none of the animal companions are sentient enough to carry themselves. My main stories (SUL, ETSS, AuAg) all have elements of found family :] bc at least I can explore the emotional range of a human more than my dog lmao

5. horror or romance

im a huge wuss ngl KBSGJKSGS all of my pure horror concepts tend to get fueled into Last Light because of how much of a wuss i am JBSKGJS. Even though I chose romance I never tend to make it the MAIN focus of a story; CoRi in SUL you see the middle point, fallout, and (hopefully) getting back together, though the main point of SUL would be exploring the trust issues between ALL Paladins and not just the ones romantically involved. Venpris is technically a side piece in AuAg's general crime plot (as tender and intimate as they are), and ofc ETSS has space-apple wars to wage in between all the LuxNex fluff

6. hard or soft magic system

I need a hard system bc Im too stupid to make a soft one JKBFGSKJGD

I guess for SUL actual "magic" tends to be pretty soft since it's implied witchcraft is something gods have gifted to mortals BUT in all fairness I'm still plotting the witchcraft elements of SUL

For actual elemental powers I'm still constantly adding rules and this or that for SUL characters simply because it feels more organized and thus more organized for me to put into a plot lol

7. standalone or series

Seriessss I grew up with MLP multiple seasons, Yugioh + Yugioh GX multiple seasons,,, heck also RWBY and Lego Monkie Kid multiple seasons. I dont tend to get SUPER attached to specific movies, especially standalones, so my brain just sorta automatically tries to write stuff as if they're multiple season projects. ETSS and SUL have the most obvious season-by-season plots, though AuAg so far I'm not super sure about BUT definitely feel like it'd span multiple episodes

8. one project at a time or always juggling two+

I always hyperfixate on one at a time JBSKDJSG in between bursts of SUL it's been ETSS, sprinkles of AuAg, then that brief period of JMON in Fall 2021.

9. one award winner or one best seller

I'm not really sure if I have a preference for either of these tbh LMAO I just wanna create and hope theyre successful enough to carry me throughout life

10. fantasy or sci-fi

Im too stupid for sci fi tbh JBSKJGS I always worry about getting this or that wrong so I tend to go pretty fantasy bc I have fun worldbuilding it knowing I can just do batshit whatever like the very first instances of SUL basically mixing YuGiOh and MLP logic akjbfskdg.

11. character or setting description

I may be an art major but I'm an art major who hasn't done proper backgrounds since high school JKBGKSJGS I think a lot of my descriptions are pretty clunky In General but characters are easier since I always have character designs first before environmental design

12. first or final draft

A lot of my work at the moment is based off of doing things quickly. The Atlasify comics, my own writing, heck my art too. I don't like spending too long on certain projects or such so technically all of my work is first drafts bc I wanna get stuff done first instead of never finishing one project

13. love triangle in everything or no romantic arcs

Technically both ETSS and SUL have somewhat love triangle moments but

a.) ETSS is more an exploration on identity than romance

b.) the SUL love triangle is literally between turqbalt's two identities and rina

BUT god I'd rather have no romantic arcs at all than actual love triangle moments. Do you know how many teleseryes have the cheesiest cliche love triangles? No thank u I wanna do all or nothing

14. constant sandstorm or rainstorm

i love the rain :] the air is fresh and the plants look greener. i dont think my asthma would love lots of sand tbh

[pawpunkao3]

!! !! i wanna see ur ocs !!

Since you did three pairs, I’m gonna give deets on three characters that aren’t technically OCs but might as well be because they get no canon personality at all: Kristen’s little siblings.

Bricker is the oldest save Kristen, and spent the longest time buying into Helioicism. His parents didn’t make the same mistake twice and sent him to a Helioic school, where he excelled both academically and physically, and then on to train to become a paladin border guard like them. He was also good at that, but as soon as he went on his first patrol and realized being a border guard meant attacking or even killing people who just wanted to go to a different location (people that everyone said were monsters, too inherently different to humans to ever relate to them but Bricker stares down a Goblin who can’t be more than twelve years old as she stands in front of her little siblings and he would do that in a heartbeat, too) he pretty quickly broke his oath. Of course, he was on patrol with some other paladins, so... he had to get rid of the witnesses. He was technically on the border guard for a while, intentionally foiling attempts to catch people crossing over from the Mountains of Chaos, but then someone found out about his first patrol. Now he’s a wanted murderer and adventurer (same difference, right?) who helps people cross the border. He speaks fluent Goblin also :)

Bucky is the most normal of his siblings. He did okay in school, got an office job, and decided he was going to get fit. He met the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen at the gym. She also happened to be an Orc named Adaxi, prompting him to very quickly have to decide if he was going to side with his parents or acknowledge the facts in front of him (that Adaxi was perfect in every way). He chose the latter, but pretended to side with his parents for a few years because he didn’t want to lose his family. A while after they started dating, Bucky got fucking wasted at an Orcish party, passed out drunk, and met Luthic. When he woke up, he was able to rage, as well as had a lot more confidence. That prompted him to quit his job, cut things off with his family and seek out his older brother to adventure with him (and his girlfriend, when her work isn’t too busy).

Gemma is Kristen’s youngest sibling. I will not say what she is referred to in canon because A) I hc her as trans and B) it’s a stupid ass name. She knew something was Off at a very young age, but obviously the Applebees household isn’t a very safe place to explore that, so she kept praying for someone to make her normal. Eventually, an angel came down and was like “there’s nothing wrong with you, also your parents are heretics for preaching hate instead of acceptance. Do you wanna be a warlock.” Gemma said yes (because she’d never met anyone, much less an emissary of Helio, who had told her it was okay to be who she was) and became a warlock of that angel. She passed her powers off as clericism, but of course, after Kristen her parents viewed even that with suspicion. It wasn’t much of a surprise when their last child vanished as well, going to meet her brothers.

In the end, they meet the Bad Kids on an adventure and reunite with Kristen. She feels horrible that she never really tried to get them out, but they all ended up leaving anyway. Sometimes she joins their party for adventures! She’s so happy to have her siblings back :)

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 5)

This is the fifth chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

This and the fourth chapter are also inspired by the “Distance” and “Talk to me” animatics by @suerakocy, so please check that out and give the artist some praise. They deserve it so much, because those pieces are beautiful.

Summary: It takes Lance years to come back to the Garrison but, when he does, his friends are there for him.

We finally get Lance pining hour!

Trigger warning: Talk of PTSD and mention of blood, but no description of violence. The story really just starts right in it.

24 and 22 years old

Lance woke up to a dark, quiet room and for a moment he couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. The air felt stuck in his throat, because as soon as he inhaled the sound of his haggard breathing would break the silence and alert whatever awaited in the shadows.

But there’s nothing there, Lance told himself.

He had dreamt of the war, again. In his nightmare, there was another explosion and Lance hadn’t been quick enough to shield whoever was with him in the room. The darkness that followed was oppressing, dense enough that he’d felt like it was water flooding his lungs.

And then the water had turned into blood.

He sat up in bed, trying to control his shaking. It had taken years and a lot of therapy, but Lance had managed not to fall into panic attacks every time such memories made their way into his dreams. Still, he was glad to have built his own house on the farm grounds. His parents deserved a good night’s rest, especially after what Lance had put them through during his time with Voltron.

He reached for his cellphone with unsteady fingers. After their last battle against the Galra, Lance had learned to leave it on during his sleep, just in case he woke up like this: with adrenaline running through his veins and the vague sensation that something was terribly wrong.

He hesitated over his contact list, before finally scrolling down and pressing call. It didn’t take long for the other person to answer.

“Is anyone hurt?” was Keith’s greeting.

“No.” Lance swallowed once, trying to erase the grit from his voice. “Nightmare.”

There was a second of silence and then the rustle of sheets. “Okay.” He heard Keith exhale harshly, but Lance knew it wasn’t in annoyance. The whole team had gone through this more times than they could count. “Okay.” Keith seemed a little calmer now. “Are you all right?”

“Not really,” Lance confessed. He leaned against the headboard and pulled his knees up. It was easier to concentrate on his breathing when he wasn’t lying down. “It was Sendak’s first attack, again.”

“You’ve been thinking about that one a lot lately.” Keith’s observation made Lance grind his teeth. It was true, but he didn’t need to say it.

“Could you call her?” Lance breathed out. His voice sounded pained and he winced, thankful that only Keith was privy to it.

“Lance, we can’t keep doing this.” His friend’s tone was weighted with his own share of hurt. “If you want to know how she is, then you need to call Pidge.”

“I do call Pidge. Just not…”

“Not when you are feeling vulnerable?” Keith sighed into the phone, sounding more tired than normal.

“You weren’t sleeping, were you?” Lance latched onto this realization. He felt stupid not to have recognized it earlier, with how quickly Keith had answered the call.

“Don’t change the subject.” The reply came harshly and it only served to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m not! We made a deal to call one another if the flashbacks started again.” He lit up the lamp on his nightstand and frowned at the pictures he kept on the opposing wall, as if it could make the real Keith feel his irritation. “Would you have talked to anyone if I hadn’t called?”

“My mom is here with me,” Keith admitted after a moment. “She and Kolivan have kept me company while Xitry is away.”

Lance let relief replace his anger. “Are both Xitry and Acxa on a mission?”

“Yeah… My leg still isn’t completely healed, so I couldn’t join them. Acxa will take another phoeb to come home, but Xitry should be back in a few days.” Keith paused and there was the sound of other muffled voices. “Mom says you should call Pidge.”

“You are a traitor and a hypocrite.” Lance scowled, despite how no one could see him.

Keith scoffed and Lance could feel the mockery in his expression even so many miles away. “I have called my partners every day they’ve been gone. Can you say the same?”

“Pidge is not my partner!” he protested, feeling heat rise up his neck.

“No, she’s just the first person you think about when waking up from a nightmare and then you call me, because if you called Hunk he would just spill it to her first chance he got.” Lance did not appreciate all the sarcasm Keith was giving him.

“I just want to be sure that she’s okay!” He frowned down at his knees, picking at a piece of lint that stuck to his pajama pants.

“Then ask her yourself!” Keith, too, was being too loud for the middle of the night. His vexation almost felt like a victory to Lance. “Pidge is smart, she can tell there’s something strange about my calls.”

“How are you a spy with this kind of acting skills?” Lance chastened.

“I’m no longer a spy, remember? I’m part of a humanitarian organization!” He heard Keith take a deep breath. “This would be much easier if you just told Pidge you’re in love with her.”

The words gave him pause. Lance didn’t yet know how to describe what he felt for Pidge. She was one of his best friends, the person who had stuck around the most after the team went their separate ways. Shiro had his own family to rebuild, and Keith and Hunk had a whole universe to help stabilize.

Pidge and Lance had found their own goals, but staying on Earth allowed them to check in on each other much more often.

“She doesn’t see me like that, Keith.” Lance hadn’t meant to sound so defeated, but it came out that way.

“Yeah, well, neither did Allura, but you wore her out.”

The reminder didn’t bring the same pain it would have a few years earlier.

Lance knew that he would always love Allura, but his feelings had settled into a more comfortable kind of affection. With the privilege of hindsight, Lance was able to see that their relationship didn’t have the same base as his friendship with the other paladins. Even if she had lived, Allura would have left to be queen, too invested in the rebuilding of Altean society.

And Lance would have stayed on Earth. That had never been in question. He had put his family through enough suffering while with Voltron.

He had seen the greatness in Allura when he was only eighteen, but that also meant he would have stepped aside if he thought their relationship was putting a strain in both of them. He didn’t regret the time they’d had together, but her continuous rejections had also taught Lance to value himself.

Keith’s voice snapped Lance out of his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to bring up Allura.”

“No, it’s fine.” Lance rubbed his eyes. “I just… I don’t want Pidge to think of Allura if I ever do ask her out.”

“I can’t promise you that.” He respected Keith’s honesty, even though it did nothing to calm his worries. “But she will never see you as a romantic prospect if you don’t make things clear to her. As far as Pidge knows, you’re still in mourning.”

Again, Keith was right. Lance had been ruminating this notion for quite some time. There were times when he still felt indebted to Allura, like he was the one responsible for maintaining her legacy, but the years had given him enough maturity to understand that was a burden Allura would wish on no one.

It was difficult to take the first steps towards a new future when he’d spent so long wallowing in the darkness of the war. In the middle of it all, Pidge had been a beacon of light, a safe port for him to rest his mind. It was no wonder that he had fallen for her.

“I’m thinking of going back to the Garrison.” He swallowed thickly, the fear of this confession rising up to knot at his throat.

The line went silent for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Lance chuckled. “I’ve been working with Shiro and Doctor Holt, because the quintessence Allura left in me allows me to interact with Altean technology a little better than most. And since I’ve put my pilot license to good use in my travels, Shiro said the officers are ready to reinstate me.”

“That’s amazing, Lance!” It was weird to hear Keith sound so enthusiastic.

“I think that’s why the memories are coming back again, actually.” His next exhale came out shaky and forced. “I keep thinking of the Garrison and I just – I’m afraid that I’ll get there and it will be too much.”

“The place has changed a lot since the war,” Keith assured him. “Even if something happened, though, Shiro and Pidge are there to help you through. This could be really good for you.”

Lance snickered at his directness. Keith didn’t hide his opinions, didn’t coddle him like so much of his family. “So you think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” His friend’s voice was blunt, without the dramatics that Lance himself would have added to such a statement. “Which is not saying much,” Keith teased.

“Hardy har har.” But Lance felt a smile pull at his mouth. “Does that mean you will call Pidge for me?”

There was a groan from the other side of the line. “Lance, no. I’m putting my foot down.”

“What? Why?” he complained and, with his movement, one of the pillows slipped to the ground. Lance glared at it.

“Because I’m sick of watching two of my closest friends dance circles around each other.” Keith sounded increasingly exasperated. “Talk. To. Her. Pidge is a tough girl, but she has grown a lot. She won’t be mad at you for calling.”

“I know that!” Lance grumbled.

“Then do it!” Before he could disagree, Keith had already hung up the phone.

Lance stared at the screen in discontentment. The display told him it was just before 4 am in Varadero, meaning that it wasn’t even 2 am in Arizona. His talk with Keith had distracted him from the nightmare, but now that Lance was alone with his thoughts images of it had begun to flash in his mind.

Against the dimly lit wall of his bedroom, he could almost see the silhouette of Pidge’s younger self, her body contorted by the force of a blast Lance hadn’t been quick enough to protect her from.

His need to know Pidge was safe overrode his anxiety over disturbing her sleep.

The phone rang more times than it had with Keith, which was a bit nerve-wrecking, but also a relief. Lance hoped she was having a better rest than he was.

“Lance?” The breathiness of her voice made him swallow. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, at a loss of what else to say.

“Nightmares?” From her low volume, Lance could tell that Pidge must have been at her parents’ house. He felt bad for disturbing them.

“You’re okay, right?” His words were jumbled together. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, but– You are safe, aren’t you?”

“I’m safe, Lance.” He closed his eyes, feeling the last of his distress leave him with the sound of her voice. “I’m glad you called, actually.”

He tilted his head back until it hit the headboard. “Were you dreaming of me, Pidgey-Pidge?”

“No,” she cut him off brusquely, “but I imagine you were dreaming of me.”

“Why would you think so?” He grimaced at how strangled his voice sounded.

“Because I know you have had Keith calling me for the past couple months.” Her no-nonsense attitude made Lance feel like a deer-in-headlights.

“I can’t believe he ratted me out!” Once again, Lance directed his glare at a photo of Keith on the wall. “I have some choice words for that half-alien tattletale!”

“Keep your words, he didn’t say anything.” Pidge heaved a sigh. “I just know you two. As soon as he mentioned the explosion Sendak caused, I knew he was acting on your behalf.”

Lance winced, but didn’t protest. He should have realized that Pidge couldn’t be tricked. Not only was she a certified genius, but her loyalty to her friends often translated into being more observant than one might like. She and Hunk had that in common: the uncanny ability to get involved in other people’s business.

“Keith dreams of Shiro or his father. When I do appear in his nightmares, it’s usually about not being able to grab me when we were in Honerva’s mindscape,” she went on. “That dude still harbors a displaced sense of responsibility towards us.” Her tone shifted into accusing. “Which we should not be exploiting.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to do that.” Lance slipped on the sheets until he was lying down again.

“What’s going on, Lance?” Pidge sounded concerned. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

There were many reasons, but none that he felt comfortable sharing. It had been a year since Lance had realized how much of an effect Pidge had on him, how happy he was to hear her voice, how warm his chest felt when she visited the farm. It wasn’t even a new development. He had loved her for as long as he could remember, so he couldn’t really define when it had gone from platonic to romantic.

Maybe the roots of it had always been there, hidden by the flashiness of other infatuations.

A part of him had resisted the urge to call Pidge because, despite how she probably knew him like the charted universe, he had hoped she would see strength in his recovery. Lance still wanted to be perceived as the hero who survived the war with a smile on his face and his psyche intact, no matter how far from the truth that might be.

“Shouldn’t it be easier?” he asked, so low that he hoped Pidge couldn’t hear him. “Shouldn’t I be over it?”

“Lance…” Even the way she sighed his name sent a shiver down his spine. “No. It shouldn’t be easy. We’ve talked about this.”

He had heard this from a number of therapists, as well as every other member of the team, but it was difficult to go against the ideals he’d created in his head.

“But you’re doing good,” Lance argued and his gaze fixed on the ceiling, without really seeing it.

“So are you, most of the time.” When Pidge said it like that, full of confidence, he could almost believe it. “When I feel like the memories are hurting me, I reach out. I come to see my parents, I stop by Shiro’s office.” She paused to take a breath. “I call you.”

Lance turned on his side, sticking the phone between his ear and the pillow. He badly wanted her to be there. They had slept side by side once, though he couldn’t remember the details of it. Even then, what had stuck out the most was the softness of her presence and the calm she provided.

He closed his eyes and focused on Pidge’s voice. “I really miss you.”

“I’m right here, Lance.” Like this, he could pretend she was in bed with him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

--

“I can’t believe you put a firewall to keep me out of your virtual diary, Pidge. It’s rude that you would think so low of me.”

Lance stopped short. It wasn’t the content of the conversation that surprised him, but the fact that it was Hunk’s voice, coming from the laboratories. His best friend had been on a diplomatic mission of two months and was supposed to contact Lance when he stopped on Arus to refuel his ship.

“I was clearly right, because you wouldn’t know of it unless you had tried to hack in.” And this was Pidge, sounding more incensed than he’d heard in quite some time. “I learned my lesson during our Garrison days, Hunk!”

“Shouldn’t you be buttering me up? You called me for help on this aircraft, young lady.” Lance almost snorted at this. He could already imagine the indignation on Pidge’s face.

“If I had known you’d be like this, I would have found a way to neutralize drag simply to negate your role here!” she spit back. From behind the glass walls, Lance observed the redness of her complexion and how her freckles disappeared into the color.

He expected Hunk to back down, but the man crossed his arms stubbornly and looked down his nose at Pidge. “You’re only saying that because I’m right.”

Lance knocked against a metallic frame on the door, which had been open.

“Team Punk is back at it?” He raised his hands in mock despair. “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Lance!” Hunk rushed over to him, engulfing Lance in a hug. Over his shoulder, he saw Pidge hang back, but the anger had melted away from her expression. “Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, man. This little menace caught me on the way back from Firilar and she wanted me at the Garrison ASAP.”

“Yeah, I regret it now,” she retorted with a glare.

Hunk let Lance go in order to direct another exasperated look at Pidge.

“Hey there, Pidgeon.” Lance scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to do. She didn’t move from her spot on the workbench and he approached almost without thinking. “Long time no see.”

As soon as he was within reach, Pidge pulsed on the balls of her feet and threw her arms around his neck. Lance’s arms were around her with no hesitance, holding her up against his chest.

“Hello,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Cabul complex with Shiro and Curtis?”

Even as she talked, Pidge didn’t give up her grip on him. It made laughter bubble up Lance’s throat. He’d been all around the world, assisting the Garrison centers in completing Earth’s first fully functioning planetary defense system, so it had been months since he’d last seen Pidge in person.

“I flew over once the installation was done. They needed me to activate the shields with quintessence, but then Arizona called.” She slowly slid down back to her feet, putting some space between them. “Something about needing their star pilot to test a new jet.”

He watched as first confusion, then realization dawned on Pidge’s face. To the side, he could see that Hunk was also grinning.

“Are you back? Don’t you lie to me, McClain!” She pushed at his shoulders, but there was excitement in her eyes.

“I’m back. I got the go-ahead earlier today.” He felt awkward under the combined stares of his two best friends. “I do remember telling you I wasn’t ready to retire. Guess my vacation ran a bit long.”

“Oh, man, we’re back together! The last time it was just the three of us in the Garrison we were still cadets.” Hunk jumped in, waving his arms widely. “I still couldn’t go on a simulator without getting motion-sickness! Lance still thought Pidge was a guy!”

“Yeah, I’m not making that mistake again.” Lance gave Pidge a cheeky once-over, making her flush.

She had let her hair grow out again. It was tied back in a long braid, but some strands had already escaped and framed her face in a reddish halo. She looked pretty like this, but Lance thought she was always pretty.

It had taken her some time to find middle ground between the androgyny of her adolescence and the femininity of Katie Holt. Lance hadn’t always been the most tactful during this period, but Pidge had known he meant well and that he was supportive of however she felt like expressing herself. It was nice to see her feel good in her own skin.

Pidge socked him on the arm. “We’ve talked about this, loverboy. No flirting with me unless you want a new bruise.”

“But, Pidgeon,” he put a hand over his heart, “this is how I show my love.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Hunk put a hand on their shoulders. “We don’t want to start a fight right next to the billion-dollar prototype.”

“Fine,” Lance drew out his vowels, making a show of it. “Honestly, though, you two look good.”

He wasn’t just saying this. Coming back to the Garrison allowed him to juxtapose the images of who Pidge and Hunk had been with their current selves.

Hunk hadn’t grown much taller and he had maintained the same robustness from their first meeting, but the anxiety that had followed him as a teenager now gave way to self-assuredness. He didn’t curl into himself anymore when going past other groups of students, nor did he cower in the face of Garrison officers.

They were all still young and maybe a little broken up after Voltron, but it had also taught them a lot about themselves and their worth. It was nice to see.

And then there was Pidge. With her long hair, her high-tech glasses, her unconventional wardrobe. She was nothing like what younger Lance had thought he wanted in a girl, but that didn’t stop her from occupying all of his thoughts.

“You do too!” Hunk exclaimed, clearly a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen you this excited in years.”

“Yeah.” Lance chuckled, unable to stop himself. “It feels good to be back. We’ll see how things go with the other MFE pilots, but I’m not too worried.” He wiggled his brows at Hunk. “I’m pretty sure I can charm the pants out of them.”

“And if that fails, you can always count on Shiro and I to intimidate people,” Pidge cut in, a teasing smile on her face, but there was a deeper current of truth to her words. They had his back and Lance was grateful for it.

“I’m pretty intimidating myself.” Lance smirked. “We just need Keith and then the gang will be completed: the Garrison bad boys, who stole a prisoner and disappeared into the night!” He made a motion in the air, like a ship cutting through the sky.

“I take it back, I don’t want to be associated with you.” Pidge’s dry comment earned a laugh from Hunk and a pout from Lance.

“Oh, come on, Pidge!” He draped an arm around the girl to pull her closer, but Pidge didn’t react as he’d hoped. She leveled him with unimpressed eyes, making no move to acknowledge their proximity. Lance found himself as the one feeling flustered and hurried to mask his discomfort. “You could at least say you’re happy to have me around.”

“Of course I’m happy, Lance,” she conceded with little fanfare. “That doesn’t mean I feel like contributing to enlarging your already massive ego.”

Pidge was looking at him over the top of her glasses. Uncovered from the greenish tint of the lenses, the honey brown of her eyes appeared strangely expressive. There was an emotion in them that he had seen a lot through the years, when they were on video calls at night, by themselves, but that he hadn’t had the opportunity to see in person yet.

Lance felt his own expression soften as he stared down at Pidge.

Before he could figure out what to say, Hunk, who had been preoccupied with a series of beeps from his communicator, had turned towards them and snapped his fingers. “We have so much to show you, now that you have the clearance!” His smile was even more contagious in person than through a screen. “I don’t know how much Veronica has told you–”

“Told me?” Lance interrupted with a laugh, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “As if my sister would spill transnational secrets.”

Hunk’s mouth twisted disbelievingly. Pidge, too, shook her head.

“I know how it is to have a family in the Garrison, Lance,” she admonished, slipping out of his hold. “Everything is confidential until something slips out in the middle of Sunday lunch.”

“Well…” Lance squinted at the LED lights on the ceiling. “If something did slip out, like the existence of a certain wormhole-jumping craft that is supposed to make teludavs obsolete, then you couldn’t really blame Ronnie.”

“Especially since the only one with a high enough rank to know about that is Shiro.” Pidge groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “A lifetime in the military and he’s still the most trusting person I’ve ever met.”

“It’s not like he’s broadcasting it to the rest of the coalition,” Hunk pointed out good-naturedly. “It’s just Lance.”

Pidge didn’t look appeased. “I’ve seen Lance reveal all our identities because he wanted to impress an alien groupie.”

Lance grimaced at the memory. It had been a little after the war, when the Garrison was still arranging diplomatic meetings with the liberated planets. As a result of his words, he and the other paladins had been mobbed and Coran had to create a diversion to get them back in their ships.

“That was a long time ago,” Lance whined. “Besides, the so-called groupie was a child and you know I can’t resist children!”

Pidge fixed her glasses, her expression a mixture of aggravation and amusement. “If you ever have kids, you’re gonna spoil them rotten.”

Lance had to bite back his immediate response. His mind had come up with an image of what his and Pidge’s children might look like – brown haired and brown skinned and too smart for their own good – and the idea warmed him to the core. He had almost said that his kids would be fine, because of their mother’s genius.

His thoughts must have shown somehow because Lance caught Hunk looking at him with a smile that promised no-good.

Lance cleared his throat. “What were you two fighting about, anyway?”

“Hunk has been trying to access my daily annotations,” Pidge explained, moving to one of the nearby computer monitors.

Over her head, he and Hunk continued to share looks and mouthed words. He couldn’t really tell what his friend was trying to say, but Hunk pointed at Pidge, then at the computer, making exaggerated facial expressions that would have been comedic in any other circumstance.

At their apparent silence, Pidge’s fingers paused over the keyboard and she whipped around to look at them in suspicion.

“She means her diary,” Hunk interjected quickly, only to receive the brunt of her glare. “How am I supposed to know what’s going on over here if you won’t let me read it? I spend half my time out in space!”

“Can’t you just believe the things I tell you? Like, I don’t know,” this Pidge grumbled with a sour look on her face, “a normal person?”

Hunk snorted. “You want to talk to me about being normal?” He glanced at Lance, as if to ask if he had actually heard her correctly. “Pidge, we had to build you a dorm in the Mecatronics Advancement building, because you kept falling asleep in the lab.” Hunk turned back to Lance and pointed a thumb at Pidge. “She would be passed out with the new Rover just constantly knocking against her back.”

“So what?” She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin in defiance. “I like what I do. At least I’m not a busybody!”

Lance could feel a new fight brewing. Or maybe it was fairer to say that it was an old fight, one that every paladin had already had with Pidge.

“Katie.” His use of her given name made Pidge’s attention snap to Lance. “We’ve talked about this. Your therapist has talked about this.” He put a hand on her shoulder, then slid it down until their fingers intertwined. “I know you like feeling useful, but we’re not at war anymore. You can rest.”

“Exactly.” Hunk sighed, thankfully not making a big deal of Lance’s touches. He reached out to ruffle her hair. “We worry, girl.”

Pidge let go of Lance to bat Hunk’s hand away from her braid. The smile she gave them was tight-lipped but fond. “Then just say that, you idiot.”

“Why should I?” Hunk shrugged, sending her a sly look. “You only seem to believe it when it comes from Lance.”

He was saved from Pidge’s cold fury by his communicator going off. It sounded more like an alert than the normal message, filling the lab with high-pitched beeps that could have awoken even Pidge in her days of all-nighters working on the lions.

“Shoot!” Hunk frowned at the device. “I have a meeting on the other side of the complex!” He looked around with wide eyes.

Pidge picked up a folder that rested on her workbench and thrust it into Hunk’s chest.

“I hope you’re late,” she said in a deadpan, making both Lance and Hunk laugh.

“I’ll see you in the taxiway later, right?” Hunk asked, already half-out of the door.

Lance gave his friend a thumbs-up. “And we can go into town after the demonstration!”

When he turned to face Pidge, she was back at the computer, shaking her head at the screen with a smile still on her lips. He leaned against the table and simply stared at her as she worked, knowing full-well that part of her attention was still on him.

“What?” she caved after a few seconds. Lance batted his lashes at her. “Ugh, stop! If you want me to go into town, then I have to finish this calculation.”

“Eight years since we were cadets here and you’re still a stick-in-the-mud.” He watched her roll her eyes. “Please, you gotta come! I don’t know any of the cool spots anymore and Hunk has been off-planet!”

“As if that could stop Hunk from knowing the good restaurants,” Pidge muttered under her breath, frowning at something on the computer. She clicked one final key, before fixing her gaze on Lance. “Also, it’s actually been twelve years since we were cadets. Time might not have gone by for us, but things here certainly did change.”

“Quiznack, don’t even remind me of that!” Lance ran a hand across his face. “Rachel has finally shut up about how we’re the same age now.”

“Did she?” Pidge raised a brow at him, leaning her hip against the workbench in much the same way as Lance had. “Cause she still called me hermanita the last time I visited the farm.”

“Yeah, you ain’t getting rid of that nickname.” He chuckled. “It’s better than mami and pop-pop calling you Palomita, though.”

Machines whirred around them, a distant sort of sound that barely registered in Lance’s mind. His thoughts were stuck in the contentment displayed across Pidge’s features, like talking about their adventures on the farm filled her with as much warmth as it did him.

And maybe it did. The paladins and their families had grown closer during the years following the end of Voltron. They had all needed support in ways that only those who had also gone through the same grief could understand. His mother had talked to Colleen and Krolia multiple times, looking for advice on how to handle his PTSD, and Lance himself had reached out to Matt when he didn’t feel like speaking to his siblings or to the team.

It was odd to look back and remember how lonely he would feel back in Castle of Lions, when there were so many people now who he loved and who had gone to the ends of the universe for him.

“What are you thinking about?” Pidge tilted her head to the side, her eyes glinting with curiosity behind those glasses.

“About the team,” he answered, because it was partially true. “About how long we’ve known each other.”

Pidge nodded, but her gaze had shifted to the ground. Hesitance furrowed the line of her brow.

“Does being here–” She paused, then seemed to gather her courage. “Does being here remind you of Allura?”

The question caught him a little off guard. It was inevitable to think of Allura when looking back at their time as a team, but Lance hadn’t expected Pidge to focus on that. Keith’s words from a few months ago echoed in his mind, that Pidge couldn’t know he had finished mourning for Allura if Lance never told her.

“A little, I guess, but it’s not bad.” He made a humming noise, considering what to say. “It feels strange to realize we’ve been without her for longer than we ever knew her.”

She pushed away from the table, just a little, so that they were facing each other. “Time doesn’t have to limit how significant a person is to us.”

“I know, but no matter how important Allura was to me, I know now that she wasn’t the love of my life.” Lance let Pidge catch his gaze, willing her to recognize that he wasn’t lying. “Because my life goes on.”

“Which is why you’re here?” There was doubt in her tone, as well as something that Lance wished he could call hopefulness.

“Which is why I’m here,” he repeated with more certainty.

[pftones3482]

Commission for @extrasensorious-zoroark, who asked for a Luca and Lance fic. Gotta admit, this one was a little tougher for me, just because we have less than an episode of content with Luca, but overall I think it turned out well.

Set post-Voltron, is otherwise canon compliant (sorry, couldn't think of a good excuse to keep Allura alive within the word limit). Under a cut for length.

~~

When word reached the paladins that Luka hadn’t, in fact, been lost to them like they had thought, it was a stampede to make it to the med bay, with Romelle at the head of the group.

Lance thought Romelle might have felt a bit responsible for Luka’s death – she was, after all, the last one who had spoken to her before Honerva had done…whatever it was she had done to kill her. She’d spent the majority of their time in space looking guilty, and nothing anyone said could snap her out of it.

After Allura’s death, of course, Lance had sat down with her, and they’d done nothing more than just sit silently and cling to each other.

Now, as they gathered outside the med wing in the Garrison, Lance leaned over to Shiro. “How-?”

Shiro shook his head. “No idea,” he murmured. “Doctors didn’t say what changed, just that she suddenly revived right after we left for space.”

“And they didn’t tell us?” Romelle snapped.

Shiro’s hand fell on her shoulder and squeezed. “We had to have our focus elsewhere,” he said, and Lance watched her expression relax.

The doctor appeared at the door, looking weary. “Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I’m Dr. Reynolds. Luka is stable, has been for several weeks, but she still refuses to speak to anyone. With Honerva gone, we don’t believe her at risk for relapsing and suffering as she did prior. We still think it best if familiar faces be let in.”

Her gaze turned to Romelle and then to Lance and he blinked, lifting his hands in front of his chest instantly. “She doesn’t know me, she-”

He remembered, then, the marks on his face, and his gut twisted. “N-No, I’m not-”

Romelle’s hand gripped his elbow. “Please, Lance,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I need an ally in there. Just in case.”

He slumped, offering a weak smile. “Sure. Sure, I’ll go.”

He glanced back at his teammates as Dr. Reynolds led them inside, and they all gave him sad smiles that did nothing to quell the churning in his stomach.

When Luka laid eyes on the pair, she scowled and flung her pillow at them. Romelle and Lance both dodged easily, and the other Altean hissed at the doctor. “No. Anyone but them,” she spat.

Dr. Reynolds nodded quickly. “Of course. Another time, then.”

Despite not wanting to come inside in the first place, Lance felt his gut sink. He’d been feeling pretty useless since Allura, uncertain, and despite their history, he’d been hoping that maybe, just maybe Luka could’ve been helped. To see that she wouldn’t even try? That hurt.

He hesitated to follow Romelle out the door, setting his hand on the frame as he looked back to her and searched her stony expression. “Well. We’re here, if you need.”

She flipped him off.

~~

He went back two days later, some of Hunk’s fresh gumbo cradled in his hands, and hesitated outside her door. Lance hadn’t told anyone he was planning to come here, so if he got the steaming stew thrown back in his face, he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

Luka was reading something on a tablet when he leaned in the door, tapping his knuckles on the frame and offering her a weak smile as she looked up. “Um. Hey. I brought you some not-hospital food, if you want it?” he offered, holding up the bowl and spoon. “Fresh from my teammate Hunk.”

Luka sneered. “Oh, you mean from the people who only destroyed my home planet? The ones who now keep me imprisoned here? No thank you.”

Lance shifted on his feet. “W-Well if you decide you want it, I’ll just…”

He set it down on the dresser at the end of her bed and gave her what he knew was more of a grimace than a smile before bolting back to the hallway.

When he walked by later, the gumbo was gone and the bowl was outside waiting for pickup with the rest of her dishes.

Lance didn’t know if she’d eaten it or thrown it away, but something like hope lifted in his chest.

~~ “Dr. Reynolds said you liked reading,” Lance said, standing in the doorway of Luka’s hospital room with his arms piled high with Earth books that had survived the war. “I brought some of my favorites from…from before.”

Luka lowered her tablet and frowned. “You keep coming here. Stop.”

Lance licked his lips and set the books down, refusing to be swayed. “This one here is about the Greek gods? They were these ancient gods that people used to worship, a-and the book is about their kids. And this book is about a girl who is a necromancer – that’s like, a person who can raise the dead. And she gets sent to a group home cause people think she’s insane, but actually the whole group home is just teenagers with powers. A-And this one is-”

“Paladin,” Luka snapped, and Lance jumped in surprise. She softened, setting her tablet on her lap. “Stop. I don’t…”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Her marks glowed faintly. “Your team…destroyed my home. It doesn’t matter how kind you act towards me, you will always be the people who killed my family. Just…stop. Please.”

Lance winced, thumbing the cover of The Hunger Games absentmindedly. “Luka, I’m sorry. We didn’t do that, though. We never hurt your home. Honerva brainwashed you to-”

The tablet shattered against the wall next to his face with a sickening sound and Lance jolted away, the book smacking the floor next to the broken glass. Luka’s cheeks were bright red and her eyes were filled with tears, the sight of which made Lance's chest ache. “Don’t you ever speak her name, you little-”

Lance threw his hands up, backpedaling out of the room before she could say more. His heart was beating fast, too fast, too hard, and he was back to their paladin wing by the time he realized he was crying too.

~~

Despite Dr. Reynolds advising against it, Lance kept bringing her food. Kept bringing her books, especially when he noticed the slightly dog-eared pages of the ones she claimed to have never touched. He never spoke to her, just dropped off Hunk’s latest cooking endeavor and a new set of books, and then took the read ones back to the library.

His teammates noticed, of course they did, and eventually Lance found Keith at his side, pulling down books at the library and handing them over silently, Pidge knocking on his door late at night with a novel she’d just finished in her hands, Hunk approaching him with more Altean themed dishes. He appreciated the efforts more than they could ever know, more than he could tell them.

Luka was lost, just like he was. She’d lost so much, in such a short span of time, and Lance understood that pain. He just wanted her to realize that there were others in the Garrison who understood what she was feeling. Needed her to realize it.

He’d be damned if he let her spend her whole life locked up here. Not after getting it back.

~~

“Your friend is a good cook,” Luka said as Lance set down the Mexican food Hunk had made that day. He blinked, not having expected her to talk, and looked up. Luka offered him what could only be called a grimace. “He um…knows his way around the kitchen. The Fineom he made the other day…that was an Altean dish.”

Lance nodded, turning to face her. “Yeah. Coran showed him how.”

She pursed her lips. “Coran is…the orange haired Altean, yes?”

“Yes,” Lance confirmed. “Hunk wanted to broaden his cooking horizons, and Coran knows some of the oldest recipes. He’s awful in the kitchen though,” he said with a chuckle.

Luka’s lips twitched in what look suspiciously like a smile, and she looked down at the book on her lap – To Kill a Mockingbird. She’d long since stopped hiding that she was reading the books Lance was bringing her. “Your world is so young,” she murmured, which was a shift in topic Lance wasn’t expecting. “You have dealt with so much that Alteans had forgotten ever happened on our world.”

Lance looked back to the book and hummed. “Yeah. We’ve come a long way. Got a long way to go. Cleaning up after the war is helping with that, shockingly,” he laughed. “Humans were pretty blind to everything outside our solar system – I think finally being able to interact with other planets made us realize how stupid and petty we all were.”

“Pettiness and stupidity occur no matter how old the planet,” Luka said, and her tone was bitter.

When she looked up, her eyes searched Lance’s with a depth he couldn’t fathom. His mouth went dry, and she shut the book. “May I…join you for lunch today? In the canteen? W-With you and your friends? I think…”

She put the book down and clasped her hands together. “I think I’m tired. Of eating alone and being stupid.”

Lance felt his face relax into a smile, and he held out an arm for her to cling to. “You were never stupid. But you’re welcome to join us – I and my teammates would really enjoy that.”

She reached out with a tentative smile and took his elbow.

[freddiesaysalright]

Part of Your World - Chapter 5

Ben!Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Prince Ben is trying to escape an arranged marriage. A young mermaid wants to escape the sea. Their paths cross and they may just be what the other is looking for.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @radiob-l-a-hblah​, @xviiarez​, @butlegendsneverdie​, @sunflower-ben​, @godblessthisgardenpigeon​, @okilover02​, @xhaliemax​ if you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Y’all ready to see a classic fanfic trope? I know we love it ;) Also, I’m sorry this update took for fucking ever I’m just horrible at time management

Warning(s): None :)

Moodboard

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

The next morning, you woke to find Ben missing from his hammock. You rolled out of yours, careful to land on your feet, and then headed upstairs to the deck. The morning was misty and chilly. You shivered and hunched your shoulders as you pressed on. You found him at the bow, looking out over water, clouded by fog. His expression was hard. Distressed. You placed a hand on his shoulder to alert him to your presence. You felt his muscles relax beneath your touch as he turned to face you.

“Good morning,” he said shortly.

Is it? You questioned.

He shook his head. “No...no, I suppose it isn’t.”

Talk to me, you insisted. Why are you so upset by this?

“Because,” he said. “A king is supposed to protect his people. To run his kingdom with knowledge and care. Until I joined Behati, I didn’t know anything that was going on. I feel...stupid. And completely unprepared for the next step in my life.”

Well, you know now, you said, trying to be encouraging. Maybe now when you do get home, you can explain what you’ve seen to your father and work together to fix it.

“That’s another thing that’s bothering me,” he said. “I don’t like to think my father knows about this and is ignoring it, but what if that is the case? What if he isn’t ignorant and he just doesn’t care? What do I do then?”

I can’t say for sure, since I don’t know him, you signed. But if he's anything like you, then there is no way this information wouldn’t affect him. Look at how your heart is hurting for your people. If your father has half your heart, it will shock him, and he will do everything he can to correct it.

A hint of a smile passed over his lips.

“I hope so,” he said. “But who knows when I’ll be able to get back to him?”

You aren’t Behati’s prisoner, you reminded him. I’m sure she’d take you back home if that’s what you wanted.

He shook his head again. “No, not really. She’s so close now to finding Sycoria. And I’m not ready for this adventure to end yet. Crazy as it’s been, and as much danger as I’ve encountered, I’ve never had so much fun.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“It seems completely mental, I know,” he chuckled. “But...before, I was looking at the life that was being handed to me. It was soft and comfortable in the palace. With a pretty wife who would take my word second only to God’s, and give me heirs. I’d do the same things every day, with the same people, without any idea of what goes on beyond the palace walls. It was frightening. Running away from that - especially the marriage - was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

You don’t want to get married? You wondered, a little dejected.

“I do someday,” he said. “But right now it just felt like a way to trap me and keep me right where I was. I barely even had a taste of freedom.”

Believe me, that I understand, you signed.

“Controlling parents?” he asked.

You nodded. A controlling father, mostly. My mother died when I was little.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What happened to her?”

Pirates, you told him, because you couldn’t say “humans.” 

Ben heaved a sigh. The wind blew and you shuddered. 

“Cold?” he asked.

You nodded, hugging yourself. He offered a gentle smile as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You smiled gratefully at him. Then, he did something you did not expect. He pulled you into his arms and held you there. Your soft gasp was lost in his shirt as you rested your forehead against his chest. His embrace was warm and comfortable. You could hear his heart beating.

“The world is cruel,” he said heavily. “I’ve seen a great deal of wickedness and devastation since I left home, but I must say that you, Y/N, have been a bright light.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and you felt heat rise to your face. 

“Despite all you’ve been through, you’ve remained kind and gentle,” he went on. “You’re genuinely the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I know it’s only been a couple days, but you’re a very precious friend to me.”

You looked up and beamed at him. He held your gaze and seemed to inch closer. Your stomach turned at the thought. Was he going to kiss  you? Already? You were definitely fond of each other, but was it love? It certainly felt like the beginnings of it.

He pressed his lips to your forehead. You released a breath of relief. As badly as you wanted to kiss him - and you knew what was at risk if it didn’t happen - now was not the time. He was vulnerable, and he needed support. It would have felt like taking advantage of a weak moment. 

“You’re freezing, you should get out of the wind,” he remarked as he pulled away. 

I’m warmer with you, you returned. Besides, I miss the sea.

His brow furrowed. You had not meant to make that thought apparent, so your mind raced to come up with how to back track.

I just mean that I miss my old life, you signed, going vaguer. 

“Tell me about it,” he said. “Goodness, you’ve listened to me ramble on about my nonsense long enough.”

You smiled. What do you want to know?

“Let’s start with where you’re from,” he said.

It’s a whole other world, you signed. Beautiful in some ways and completely frustrating in others. I had interests my father didn’t approve of, and eventually I was punished for doing something I considered to be the right thing. I knew I had to get away. 

“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” he said. “Feeling like your parents are just trying to control you.”

Especially when they say it’s just because they know what’s best, you replied. How can they know what’s best if they don’t listen?

“Honestly!” he agreed. “All we want is the choice to make our life for ourselves.”

Absolutely, you signed. It’s about freedom. 

“Thanks for this, Y/N,” he said. “For listening and sharing. It’s been a real treat.”

You smiled again. Whenever you were around Ben, no matter how serious the discussion got, you always ended up smiling. You hoped that was how it would always be.

The sun began to rise over the water and the air warmed up. You returned Ben’s coat to him just as Behati was emerging from her quarters to address the crew.

“Ladies and Benjamin!” she began excitedly. “We now have the way to find Sycoria!”

Everyone cheered, including Ben. You clapped enthusiastically. Maybe if Behati was successful, you’d be free too.

“I’ve waited years for this moment,” she continued. “I’ve been a prisoner on my own ship all these years, but no more. But I wouldn’t be the captain I am without each of you. I collected my crew carefully, choosing those who I knew could work with me, and bring a fresh perspective. You have all proven more than worthy. Before we take on this final stretch of our journey, I’m letting you all celebrate. Our next stop is Dram, so you can all enjoy the Mermaid Festival, and then, we go after Sycoria with everything we’ve got!”

The crew cheered again. You shot Ben a questioning look. You had never been to a human festival before, and to hear they had one dedicated to mermaids was both scary and intriguing. 

“The mermaid festival celebrates Saint Asenora,” Ben explained. When your face lit up with recognition, he laughed. “My mother is named for the saint, but is not the saint herself. They both come from Dram, and my mother got her name because she was the first girl born to the Duke’s family there since the time of the saint.”

That’s incredible!

“We’ll dock in Dram tonight,” Behati said. “So you’ll have the whole day to celebrate tomorrow.”

You counted it up in your head. That would mean after the festival, you would only have another day with Ben.

Why is the saint celebrated at the Mermaid Festival? You asked.

“Because the legend goes that Asenora was a mermaid, and she fell in love with a human man,” he said. “She went to a witch to make her human, and the witch did it, but at great cost to Asenora. Her new legs were painful, and if the man did not love her in return, she would become sea foam.”

You swallowed. That hit a little too close to home.

What happened with the man? You asked.

“She found him, but he was already married,” Ben went on. “His wife was not as beautiful as Asenora, but she saw the smile on his face, and knew he was happy. Unwilling to disrupt his peaceful life, she sacrificed herself to the witch’s fate.”

That’s a horrible story, you signed with a pout.

“It doesn’t end there,” he said. “God had seen what Asenora did, and that her love was pure. He saved her spirit, and named her saint of the sea. Sailors across the kingdom pray to her for safe passage. Every year, they celebrate her at the Mermaid Festival.”

Well, that’s not so bad, you signed. But it’s still sad she never found love.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But lots of good came of it.”

You shrugged. Makes sense.

You and Ben spent the day together, working, talking, and laughing. Ben found himself impossibly more attracted to you as time went on. All he wanted was to be by your side. As he watched you help Ari with a rope, the way your face scrunched up in your way which was so cute. Your bright smile and sparkling eyes. The goodness and openness of your heart.

He felt a hand on his shoulder which drew him out of his stupor. 

“Y/N,” Behati said. “How do you feel about her?”

“She’s great,” he answered bashfully. “Really helpful and sweet and patient and -”

“Pretty?” she finished.

His cheeks got pinker. 

“She’s beautiful,” he said.

“There seems to be a real connection there,” she observed. “She likes you too.”

“Captain, what are you getting at?” he asked pointedly.

“I’m saying that what I see is the beginning of what we call love,” she said. “And I think you should pay attention to that.”

He blinked, astounded. He had never thought about it like that. But his attraction and appreciation of you definitely stood out to him. He had never felt that way about a woman before. But love? 

“I dunno if we’re there yet,” he said with a shrug. “But I...I really like her.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “Show her a good time tomorrow.”

“I will,” he said. “I’m actually excited for it.”

Behati smiled, nodded, and then left him to his work again. She walked over to you.

You beamed at the captain as she approached, but it faltered at the look on her face. She looked serious.

“Y/N, come with me to my quarters, we need to talk,” she said.

What’s this about? You wondered.

“Just come with me,” she insisted.

You put down your things and followed her. You shot Ben a questioning look as you passed him, but he only shrugged. He watched you disappear into Behati’s room.

“Hey, Ben,” Ari said. “Don’t you think that a sweet, charming girl that’s right in front of you might be better than some mystery woman you aren’t even sure exists?”

He sighed. “I suppose…”

Inside, Behati  sat on her desk, facing you. You stood before her, a questioning expression on your features.

“We’ve never addressed this, but I did see you that day you rescued Ben,” she began. “And you didn’t have legs. You were a mermaid.”

You looked at the floor and nodded.

“And I know Sycoria gave you your legs,” she said.

You nodded again.

“What was the price?” she asked. “And what are the conditions of your agreement?”

You took a deep breath. Then, you explained everything. How you’d always been fascinated by humans, that night you listened on the side of the ship and that was how you were there to rescue Ben. You told her your father punished you for it, and then you went to Sycoria to become human. You even told her the limits of your spell. That after the festival you would only have another twenty-four hours to get Ben to kiss you. 

“Well, you’re in luck, he likes you,” she said. “How do you feel about him?”

I’m starting to fall in love with him, you signed. He’s so brave and kind and caring. And we both value freedom and love. It feels like we’re meant to be.

“You very well may be,” she agreed. “The only thing is Ben is still caught up on the woman he thinks saved him. I think you should tell him the truth. During the festival.”

You nodded. I agree. I want to be totally honest with him so that he doesn’t feel tricked. 

“I like that,” she said. “To get this going, I’ve got something for you.”

A present?

She smiled and then crossed the room to her wardrobe. You watched eagerly as she opened the door, reached in, and pulled out a gorgeous gown that was on a hanger. Your mouth dropped as you looked at it. It was stunning - gold thread with soft pink lace and delicate frills along the sleeves and neckline. You had never seen such a garment.

“Wear this,” she said with a smirk. “That should put some serious hearts in his eyes.”

But if it’s yours, how will it fit me?! You wondered.

“It was actually part of a plunder I took a few years back,” she said. “I think it looks about your size. Dresses never suited me anyway. But they do suit a princess.”

You grinned. Thank you so much.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Shall we try it on?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

Behati had everything that went with the dress - the undergarments, corset, and even gold slippers to match it. As she finished lacing you up, you finished letting your hair out of the braids. Then she walked you over to the mirror that was on the wall. You gasped.

“My, my, you’re stunning!” she cried. “Look at you, gorgeous!”

You blushed, flattered by her praise, especially since you found her so beautiful. 

Thank you, you signed. I really feel like a princess now.

“You look like one,” she said. “You are one. Ben is a lucky, lucky prince.”

You blushed deeper. 

“We’ll be docking soon,” she said. “Stay in here as long as you like. I’ll have Ari and Kay get you dressed tomorrow.”

You giggled together, and then she departed. You looked at yourself again, twirling gently back and forth. You pictured yourself on Ben’s arm, looking like you actually belonged there. The way this dress would shift and move, the way it would swirl as you danced. The festival became a whole lot more exciting. 

When you docked at Dram, You had changed back into your crew clothes, but the dress was carefully packed and with Ari. Behati also handed Ari a pouch of gold to pay for rooms at the inn. She whispered some instructions into Ari’s ear that you guessed were about the dress. The captain shot you a knowing smile, and then you were all off into town. 

Dram was much more peaceful than Henrietta. There was a heavier military presence and the people were clearly wealthier. Most of the women had jewels around their necks and fingers. Their dresses were made of luxury fabrics, and most of them were escorted by a man. 

Not that there wasn’t poverty. There certainly was. The shopkeepers and merchants were dressed similarly to yourself and Behati’s crew. Although, the dress you knew was waiting for you would make you fit in right along with those fine ladies.

The inn was not too far from the dock, and Ari went to check you all in. The innkeeper gave Ari the keys, and she began assigning rooms. Your stomach turned when she said that you and Ben would be sharing. 

“Strictly for space,” Ari said. “You see, everyone else is rooming with their partners.”

You nodded slowly. I suppose that’s alright. Ben?

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N, then so am I,” he said.

There was a reassurance in his voice that eased you. 

“Y/N, come to my room tomorrow morning,” Ari said. “For your gift from Behati.”

She handed you the room key and winked. Ben looked between the two of you, confused.

“What?” he questioned. “Behati’s given you something?”

You nodded. It’s not important right now. Let’s just get to our room.

He agreed, and you walked upstairs together. You went to the room indicated on your key, and you turned the lock. You opened the door and walked in. The room was nice and cozy but to your horror, there was only one bed.

There must be a mistake, you signed. Ari would get us separate beds.

“Relax,” Ben replied, though he was also nervous. “I’ll go downstairs and see if there’s another. Wait right here.”

He left, and you stood in the doorway, anxiety coming off of you in waves. Being so close to Ben - sharing a bed - that would create a whole other level of intimacy between you. You didn’t have much time to fret before he returned.

“Sorry, no luck,” he said. “Between the Mermaid Festival guests and now us, all the other rooms are booked.”

You nodded and swallowed.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep on the floor,” he offered, scratching his neck. 

No, you signed. We can share. That is, as long as you’re okay with it.

“Of course!” he said, and at the look of surprise at his enthusiasm, he collected himself. “Sorry. I just, uh...I dunno, I like being close to you, Y/N.”

You smiled. I like being close to you too.

It was getting late, so you both got ready for bed. Ben watched as you slowly shed a few layers of clothing. He found himself blushing at the sight of your bare shoulder, and the soft skin there. He resisted a brutal urge to walk up behind you and press his lips to it. 

He shook his head and began to take off his own clothes. You peeked over your shoulder and tried to not drool as his shirt came off and you saw his body. He had tan lines from his work and time with Behati, but it did not take away the appeal of his strong build. You happily would have thrown yourself into those arms. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, bringing you back out of your thoughts.

You nodded stiffly. He allowed you to get in the bed first, and you hesitantly pulled back the blankets and slid into the spot. As he followed suit, you became acutely aware of his body heat beside you. You looked resolutely away from him, so you wouldn’t make him uncomfortable, but you felt his eyes on you as he settled in.

He chuckled. “You can look at me, you know.”

You turned your head in his direction, but your eyes remained fixed on the sheets. His forefinger and thumb came to your chin, and he gently lifted your face to his. 

“Look, I understand that this is a bit uncomfortable,” he said kindly. “But I think we should focus on the positives. At least now, we have time to talk without any interruptions or worrying about anyone overhearing us.”

Should we have worried about that before? You asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. But I like that it’s just you and me now. So tell me something new about you.”

You smiled. You considered confessing to him now where you really came from and the deal with Sycoria, but it still felt too crazy. And you wanted to know how he felt about you before taking the risk. So you talked about other things to pass the time. You talked with him until your eyelids grew heavy. You settled yourself against him and rested your head on his shoulder. Sleep took you. Ben watched you ease into slumber and admired your peaceful expression for a while before it came for him as well. He slipped out of consciousness with his arms around you.

You woke the next morning warm and cozy in Ben’s embrace. It was so comfortable you almost didn’t want to get up and go anywhere. But you were excited about the festival. And you thought it might be the perfect place for you and Ben to have your first kiss. And you could finally tell him everything. 

Ben’s eyes fluttered open and met yours gazing at him. He smiled lazily.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

Good morning, you signed back. I’ve got to get to Ari’s room, but I didn’t want to disturb you.

“I wish you could stay,” he said through a yawn. “You’re so cozy.” 

You grinned. I’d be content to stay here with you for days, but we do have a festival to see.

“That’s true,” he conceded. “I’ll come get you in an hour, yeah?” 

You nodded. 

To your own dismay, you got out of bed, dressed quickly, and went down the hall to Ari’s room. Ben drifted back off for a bit, but found himself missing the feeling of you next to him. 

When you got to Ari’s room, she, Kay, Sharna, and several other girls were in there waiting for you. Ari flashed you a knowing smile.

“How was your night?” she asked.

It was….nice, you signed with a sheepish grin. He just held me all night. 

“Awww,” Sharna cooed. “What a sweetheart he is.” 

“Well, let’s get you dolled up for your sweet man,” Ari said. 

They all jumped in. While Ari was getting you dressed, the others were helping you with your hair. You really felt like a princess, but not the kind you were in the sea. The kind from storybooks. Only, you didn’t have servants. You had friends. 

Before you knew it, there was a knock at the door. Ben had arrived. Ari went to answer it, and she allowed him in. When he saw you standing there, in that elegant dress, with your hair curled and styled, and just a hint of rouge on your cheeks and lips, his jaw dropped. The breath was stolen out of his body, and his face grew warm. 

“Y/N, you - I - wow - you look….you look…” he sputtered.

“Beautiful?” Ari finished.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes still locked onto yours. “Stunning, actually.”

You flushed under his gaze and tried to relax. Somehow, you were more nervous around him now. It felt like he was properly courting you or something. The feeling only grew when he bent at the waist and bowed to you, extending his hand. 

“Y/N, I would be honored if you would allow me to escort you to the festival today,” he said. 

You took his hand, and he looked up. You beamed at him and nodded. He grinned back, losing the dignified air he’d created, and you were back to normal. Only, there was a real feeling of couplehood blossoming. 

He began to lead you out the door. Ari wished you good luck and said they’d be around if you and Ben needed anything. You both waved to her quickly, and then you were off. 

Ben took the lead, since he had been to the festival before. It was mostly local vendors selling products relating to the legend. People were everywhere, shopping and talking. Children darted back and forth, collecting candy and toys. Laughter and music floated through the air. Ben took you first to get a seashell crown to wear. 

“That really suits you, Y/N,” he said, placing it carefully atop your head. 

Thank you, you replied.

You continued walking. It shocked you to witness how fascinated humans were by mermaids. There was mermaid art, mermaid jewelry, mermaid themed food. None of it was accurate, but it was certainly amusing to you.  

You stopped at another booth, where you purchased a pendant for Ben. It was silver, hung down to his chest, and had a perfectly round pearl at the end. It was delicate, but still looked handsome on him.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do all this,” he said, admiring it. “This is much too kind a gift.”

You have been most kind to me, you replied. I want to show you I’m grateful to know you.

He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you so much,” he said. 

You beamed at each other. 

Exploring the Mermaid Festival took most of the day, but it was a whole day you got to spend with Ben. You talked, laughed, shopped, and got to know each other. In the afternoon, you went to the town square to see the dancing. 

A group of string players were creating a jaunty and upbeat tune. The dance was known to the citizens, as they were all in step with each other. You even saw Ari and Kay out there together. Ben looked over and saw your eager expression.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked. 

You nodded so hard, he laughed. 

Taking you hand, he led you out. You got a bit nervous since you had never danced before and you didn’t know the steps.

“Don’t worry,” Ben said, as if reading your mind. “Follow my lead, and keep the beat in your head.”

His reassuring smile made you forget all apprehension. You leapt into the crowd, one hand in Ben’s, the other on his shoulder, while his free hand took your waist. Nothing else mattered. You danced and danced, and whether or not the steps were right was of little consequence. You were in Ben’s arms, moving together, with laughter in your eyes and on your lips. 

The song came to an abrupt, but jubilant halt, and you stopped, breathless and smiling. Ben was similarly delighted. Then you both burst into laughter. 

“That was great, Y/N!” he praised. “For someone who once struggled to walk, you’re a helluva dancer!”

You smirked. Well, I think with dancing, it’s about having the right partner.

He blushed and smiled in that way that absolutely melted you. Then, the music began again, this time much slower. You watched all the other couples return to the floor.

“Do you know how to waltz?” Ben asked.

You shook your head. He quickly showed you a box step, and you told him you trusted him. So, he took you out again. 

The waltz was smooth, with a romantic sway that was exactly what you had envisioned for the dress. You were much closer to Ben now - chest to chest. Both of you were rosy cheeked from the previous dance, but your breath was evening out. Your heart rate on the other hand was picking up rapidly.

“Y/N, I…” Ben began, but trailed off. 

You poked him insistently in the shoulder. He met your eyes and you questioned him with a slight downturn at the corners of your mouth.

The truth was, as he looked at you now, the only thing on his mind was kissing you. 

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I like you,” he said. “I think...it’s becoming more than just a liking, if you know what I mean.” 

You did, but you wanted to hear him say it. You furrowed your brow and looked confused.

“Y/N,” he said again, and as the music slowed to a stop, so did your feet. “I think I’m starting to…”

He was leaning in again, and this time there was no confusion about where he was headed. He was going to kiss you. Properly. And you were more than ready to accept him. To break this curse and regain your voice so that he could know truly everything about you. And you weren’t scared to tell him anymore. Because you knew that he loved you.

Your eyes began to close as you got closer to each other. You felt his breath hot on your face. His lips just barely began to touch yours. Just a little closer. A little closer and then…

“Time for the mermaid tears!” cried a young boy who came bounding between you, forcing you back a few feet. 

You tried not to look annoyed because it wasn’t intentional, but the moment was gone. Ben cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Well, I suppose we can’t miss the mermaid tears,” he said.

What’s that about? You wondered.

“It’s when we all go to the beach and make a wish,” he explained. “Everyone takes a bit of sea glass, makes a wish, and throws it into the sea. The sea glass is meant to be Asenora’s tears she shed for her lost love. But we give them back to her - and you let go of whatever is weighing on you - then she’ll grant your wish. According to the legend.”

Does it have to be right now? You asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s always right at sundown.” 

How quickly the day had flown! You weren’t ready for it to be over, but maybe, once you got back to the room, there would be another opportunity for him to kiss you. 

With a sigh, you took his arm and headed for the shore. 

All the jewelers were handing out the pieces of sea glass as each person approached. Yours was a deep blue, which reminded you of home. Ben’s was a soft green, and matched his eyes. You walked out to the sand, kicking off your shoes about halfway to the water. You let the ocean come and swallow your feet. 

You decided you were letting go of your old life in the sea. Where you felt trapped by your father and had no control. Your wish was for Ben to try and kiss you again. You hurled the sea glass as far as you could. It disappeared inside a wave. Then you looked at Ben. 

“Go ahead back to the inn,” he said, still holding his sea glass. “I need a moment.”

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, nodded, and began walking back. He watched you go, making sure you met up with Ari and Kay, before you were out of sight among the crowd. Then he looked back over the water. 

His heart was torn. He was certain that he loved you, but he could not forget about the woman who saved his life. It clawed at him, made him feel guilty for falling so hard for you. But how could he help loving you? Even if there was someone out there he owed a debt to. 

That was what he was letting go of. He was releasing himself from the burden of having to love someone for that reason. If he ever found that woman, he would see his debt repaid. But he was committing himself to you. His wish was only that you loved him in return. And that you would have a long and happy life together. 

He realized that he was now alone on the beach. He reared back to throw the stone into the water, when a voice caught his attention. He turned around and saw a woman walking toward him. At first, he hoped it was you, but he knew it was not your silhouette. 

“Benjamin,” the woman said. 

Her voice was intoxicating. He noticed an odd, purple and gold glow coming from a shell around her neck. It hypnotized him so that he dropped his sea glass without even hearing it hit the sand. 

Behati was whistling to herself as she walked near the stern of the ship. She had a great view of  the beach from her spot in the harbor, and she had seen you and Ben making your wishes together. Now, as she was making a second round, a foggy glow caught her eye. She stopped and watched.

A woman she had never seen was talking to Ben. The woman was certainly beautiful from what Behati could tell. But when the glowing fog went straight into Ben’s eyes and his body went rigid, the captain knew something was horribly wrong. The woman began to lead Ben into the sea, walking right into the waves.

“BEN!” Behati screamed, but he paid her no mind. “BEN, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

He continued to ignore her. Then Behati watched with dread as the prince’s head vanished beneath the inky black surface of the water. A wicked cackle echoed through the air. A laugh Behati could never forget as long as she lived. 

“Sycoria!”

[that-sure-is-a-person]

DnD Headcanons - Damian Wayne

Build

Background: I think criminal makes the most sense for Damian, due to him being raised to be an assassin by Thalia al ghoul and the league of shadows which is  criminal organisation (cult really), however acolyte could also work due to the devotion given to the league and the bat clan

Race: human variant with either the linguist or animal handler feat. linguist because Damian canonically Arabic and I can imagine though his training he learnt many languages. Animal handler as Damian loves animals more then most people… batcow … ace … Goliath …Titus… Alfred the cat to name a few

Class: now if I didn't pick this class and subclass I would be stupid, Damian would totally be an assassin rogue, he’s just this super serious 5’2” ball of pre teen rage who wields theses Katanas and has been trained in the arts of assassination since birth.

Other: technically he could also be a hollow one with Jason as he has canonically died before

Headcanons

Damian is the second most dnd adapt out of the family after Jason.

When maps asked him to join the detective club for games night at Gotham academy he didn’t want too look like a fool so he asked Jason to tell him everything.

Damian is a very much go hard or go home intense person when it comes to interests so as soon as he latches onto something he likes to know everything he can and takes it a tad too seriously.

By time it comes around to game night he has a massive folder spell cards dice everything.

He would totally be a dice goblin i’m sorry, he would collect them make them buy them for people just an insane dice bag like Laura Bailey  but like serious and strategic.

Damian would defiantly main ranger or druid because he gets to be badass and have pets that kick ass.

I think when he first plays he would still be very uptight about all of it ( an absolute rules layer at first partially because he spent so long memorising all of it) so his first character might be a lawful good human paladin who is totally not an idolised version of his dad, as well as a completely min maxed tank who is a purely combat character but as he gets comfortable he makes these intricate characters with 10 page backstory whilst also being edgy and goofy.

Defiantly plays the weirder/ rare races but also would make at least one character a lycanthrope or vampire cause he thought it would be fun

Also very good at staying in character

If he where to dm I think he would run the coolest dark/edgy/ urban campaigns that don’t feel like there trying too hard, like I can see him running the curse of strahd and ghosts of saltmarsh

His first time DMing he would think it was dm v players and try and kill everyone

When it comes to home/ family days he is just 90% exasperated sighs and face-plants.

Jason is weirdly proud of him and is happy they found a common interest to bond over, also wouldn’t hesitate to help him with homebrew and writing campaigns

If he wrote a campaign he would take heavy influences from classic grime fairytales and folk stories, so it would just end up full gothic fantasy with lots of deeper meaning.

this is the second in this series of headcanons, my writing may not be perfect as i have dyslexia. any more suggestions for characters or headcanons feel free to add them in the comments or my ask box.

[mckinlily]

shalluraweek day 2: wings/bloom

Summary: wings/bloom The war is over, the paladins are back on Earth, but Shiro and Allura find adjusting to peace might be harder than expected.

read on ao3 here

Truth was, it took way too long for Allura to notice. The war was over, Zarkon and Hagar were safely (finally) dead, and the Paladins of Voltron had returned to Earth. Even negotiations with the Galaxy Garrison and Earth’s other ruling parties had, at long last, come to an end. (Earth’s pollical system was surprising complicated and rigid compared to what Allura would have expected from knowing her paladins. When she had told Shiro that, he had just laughed and laughed.) With the politics and negotiations over, the paladins were finally able to go home.

Keith was in the desert, soaking up the Earth sun and the quiet.

Pidge had reunited her family and was making up for lost time.

Hunk traveled to his grandparents's ranch to finally meet two of his youngest nieces.

Lance had gotten absorbed into the mass of parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, distance relatives, and possibly nearby neighbors and outright strangers who just got caught up in the fuss, showing him in the praise and attention deserved.

And Shiro was back at the Garrison, sharing his experience and knowledge with faculty and cadets both. Allura thought he looked very handsome in the sharp cut of his grey uniform, regal and commanding like he always should be. He was back as a hero, and already very well on his way to becoming a beloved instructor. Which to Allura made perfect sense. He had already fought for, inspired, charmed, and occasionally strong-armed the rest of the universe; it was time he received the same kind of recognition on his home planet. He belonged here.

(Allura wasn’t sure she belonged anywhere. With the war over and on a strange planet where the inhabitants felt just enough like Alteans to be continually unnerving, she could feel herself crumpling, like her core was turning into dust.)

(They had finally disposed of Zarkon, and what was Allura besides another ten thousand year old relic? Perhaps it was time for her to fade away as well.)

So Allura told herself all was well. The paladins were safe and happy, and they no longer needed her. She was just stretching out the inevitable when the end was in sight.

It was this line of thinking that almost made her miss the problem with Shiro.

Almost. But, thankfully, not quite.

Allura was used to seeing Shiro with bags under his eyes and stress lines on his face—as much as she might not like it, it was an inevitable part of the war—and it took her way too long to realize that he shouldn’t look like that now. That wasn’t Shiro’s default state. Oh, one might think that was if they only saw Shiro in Black Paladin mode or operating in strict professionalism, but Allura had long since learned how to get past that veneer Shiro held up like a shield. The real Shiro, the true Shiro underneath the stress and the trauma and the responsibility he felt towards everyone, was a very different creature.

And once Allura pulled herself out of her moping enough to realize, it was all very clear.

She hadn’t seen Shiro tease or pull tricks or use that deadpan delivery of his dry morbid humor that left everyone who didn’t know him questioning whether or not he was joking. Not in months. Though he attended all the meetings asked of him, his eyes had lost the light that Allura and the rest of team Voltron had depended on so often in their darkest moments. His involvement in the Garrison seemed more dutiful than engaged, and despite nearly every cadet (and quite a few of the instructors) wanting to know about and know better the incredible Takashi Shirogane, Shiro seemed to be pulling into himself more and more. He wasn’t even excited about mentoring, which was especially surprising given how he had immediately latched on to the other paladins when they were younger. Oh, he tried his best with them—Shiro’s kindness, at least, hadn’t diminished—but it was clear his heart was somewhere far away.

At first, Allura was confused. He seemed to have a great job, a home, a planet—But then Allura thought of what she knew of Shiro, what had made him happiest when they worked side by side, and her heart fell.

Shiro had been grounded. It was so wrong Allura was astonished she hadn’t seen it out before. Mentor, teacher, commander—none of that mattered when it meant he was stuck on the ground. The wings of the great Black Paladin clipped, and oh, Allura hurt at the thought. Shiro had always been happiest the rare times where neither the war nor diplomatic negotiations where pressing on him and he got the opportunity to simply be on whatever planet they had landed on. To learn, explore, try new things. And the Garrison had cut Shiro off from all of it.

Allura’s decision was made before she even had to think about it. She caught Shiro’s hand before he turned in for bed and twined her fingers between his.

“Let’s go,” she said, and Shiro had been working with her too long to question what she meant.

Shiro’s stress lines were etched deep into his face, highlighting the redness also growing there. He held his tablet close to his chest, looking uncertain. “I should…”

Allura shook her head. “Should nothing. You don’t owe them.”

"There’s—there’s paperwork. And schedules—”

“And you’re the Black Paladin. No planetary government can tell you what to do.”

Shiro still hesitated a moment. Then he brought the tablet down. “I’ll get my things.”

As it turned out, Shiro didn’t bring much. Just a few sets of clothes and a personal device with a few memories. Allura took his hand again and led them to the Castle. The other Lions were scattered throughout Earth with their paladins, but the Black Lion was in its hangar. Allura spotted its eyes flash as they walked past and smiled to know it, too, was grateful the Black Paladin had come home.

“You never did fly the Castle, did you?” said Allura as they approached the bridge.

Shiro raised his eyebrows, and he eyes finally filled with a bit of that light he had been missing. “Are you offering to teach me?”

Allura let Shiro walk up to what had been her station and put his hands on the pedestals. She then wrapped her arms around him from the back and pressed her face between his shoulder blades. “Hmm...no. Figure it out.”

Allura felt his laugh more than she heard it. But Shiro didn’t hesitate. He had been living in the Castle for three years and was a fast learner. Figure it out he did, and soon they were breaking through Earth’s atmosphere.

“Where to, Princess?”

Allura smiled against his back. “I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

It was one of those unspoken things they’d kept hidden, back when the war seemed determined to take everything they loved from them. Shiro took one hand off the pedestals and squeezed her fingers, an acknowledgement. Then he leaned forward.

“There are still a few planets I haven’t been to.”

“Be careful on the gravitational assists. The Castle has its own field.”

Allura could feel Shiro’s grin, even if she couldn’t see it.

“Sounds like a challenge.”

That was her Black Paladin. Her rock and her best friend. Her Shiro. Allura hugged him tight and only laughed when Shiro complained he couldn’t breathe.

By the time they reached the Kepler belt, the tension had leaked out of Shiro’s muscles. He twisted around. “What to take a closer look?”

“Black Lion?” Allura asked.

“Black Lion,” confirmed Shiro.

The Castle might be an incredible feat of engineering, capable of delicate movements that should be impossible for its size, but it had nothing one the agility of a Lion—especially not the way the Black Lion could dance under the direction of Shiro. Together, they soared, darting between frozen clumps of methane and ammonia, going faster—faster—faster! as Allura urged and Shiro laughed in delight until their rumbling stomachs called them home.

(Home, Allura remembered now, had stopped being a place and long since become a person.)

They docked in the Castle and made their way to the kitchen—only to find they weren’t alone.

“Hey, next time give us some warning before we take off, yeah?” said Lance, sprawled out with his feet up on the table.

“I was quite lucky Lance found me before leaving—otherwise I might have been stuck on Earth forever!” said Coran.

“You idiots,” said Keith, stepping forward to shake Shiro. “You thought we wouldn’t want to come with you, didn’t you?”

“Hope you don’t mind I brought my entire family,” said Pidge. “I figured there was room, and they wouldn’t let me leave without them. Also Matt said Shiro required ‘adult supervision.’”

“Hey, he’s only—!” Matt paused and made a face. “How old is Shiro now? Ugh, stupid time dilation.”

“Just because the war is over, doesn’t mean the universe doesn’t still need Voltron,” said Hunk. “There’s still a lot of good we can do, right?”

Shiro looked at Allura, a wry smile on his face. “So maybe we were a little bit dumb.”

Allura finds herself smiling in response. “Maybe a very little bit,” she concedes.

But their family is back together, the war is over, and she’s taking off for adventure again, this time with Shiro’s hand in hers.

From this point forward, Allura knows where she belongs.