#*fought the magenta lighting they were bathed in and won*

[inafieldofdaisies]

[confusedblakex]

A burning quiet (Pt2)

Pairing: Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane X (Male) Reader

Summary: This 'human'... a being so soft, so delicate, and yet his power was not drawn from hate. He is like you.

Wordcount: 1848

Warnings: Imprisonment, Mentions of war

Requested by: Me

Notes: Galra commander reader; My final goodbye to Voltron as it leaves Netflix

Last edited: 25th November 2024

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Shiro awoke with a start.

“Matt! Sam?” he called out, eyes darting across the room… no, cell. Where was he?

The room was bathed in a soft purple glow, a smooth marble floor and cold metal walls. A rectangle of thin fabric lay over him and he shook it off onto the floor.

One of the walls was an energy shield, the reason for the purple glow. Without a thought, Shiro jumped up to his feet and pounded at the shield, his hand stinging at the contact. It felt like thick glass.

It only took a moment before he gave up, opting instead to see what he could find outside his cell.

The room outside his was a bedroom. Stuffed animal heads decorated the wall, and a large bed  in the centre of the room - directly opposite his cell. Between him and the bed was a two-person table with two chairs on a small rug, and little else in the room. The door on the right side wall was shut.

Shiro was alone. Alone in a cell in a bedroom on a ship in space.

He vaguely remembered the recent events. His capture, Sam being sent off to the labour colony, the area. He remembered attacking Matt to take his place in the queue. He remembered managing to kill the gladiator that he had been sent to fight, and he remembered two Galra commanders fighting for him like property.

That’s right, the purple man with the axe won.

Shiro’s thoughts cut short when the room lit up in a yellow light. The door to the bedroom slid open and heavy footsteps sounded on the stone floor.

---

You walked into your room, a bowl carried carefully under your left arm. With a wave of your hand, the lights in the room turned on and the door locked behind you. The Earthling you had caged was standing by the energy shield, glaring at you.

“Where am I?” he demanded, “Let me go!”

You languidly made your way over to your bed, opening a hidden drawer under the mattress and throwing - what Shiro made out to be - a knife into it. You looked up to see the man’s glare and rolled your eyes.

“Well I would if you’d let me get to the door,” you said, as you walked over to the cell and pressed your hand to the control panel. The purple energy shield phased away quickly, and the Earthling stayed standing still. Uncomfortably lingering in his open cell - you were standing too close. He didn’t trust you.

You backed away from the cell, moving towards the table and pulling out a chair.

“Sit.” you commanded. You pulled out your own chair, and sat down, trying your best to look polite and relaxed. The Earthling warily sat down across from you, physically on edge and prepared to run at any moment.

You gently placed the bowl you had been carrying onto the table, carefully pushing it towards him. The Earthling looked down at the bowl, small magenta grape-like things filling it to its brim.

“Oxoco berries,” you clarified calmly, “they will help you regain your strength after your fight, help your body heal. They’re sweet and a little tart.”

The Earthling looked down at the berries again, picking one out of the bowl and rolling it between his fingers, seemingly evaluating it.

“Do you remember how you got here?” you asked to break the odd quiet that had overtaken the room.

“Not fully,” the Earthling admitted after a moment’s hesitation. You huffed air through your nose quietly, realising you weren’t going to get any more out of his as he sniffed the berry in his hand.

“You are on one of the Galra Empire’s flagships. You were found by one of the Empire’s commanders on one of the outer planets of your solar system and bought here, where you were deemed fit enough to fight and fought in a gladiator arena for Galra entertainment,” you told him, trying to keep it concise but accurate, “after you somehow defeated Myzax, I fought for ownership of you.”

“You cut off his arm,” the Earthling said, staring at you. He popped the oxoco berry between his fingers, the deep red juice splattering down his hand. He was odd, almost like he was constantly judging your every move, so on edge.

“Eat,” you reminded him, “if I was going to poison you I wouldn’t have fought for you,”

Your rationalisation seemed to work, as the Earthling looked at you a moment longer, then back to the berry juice on his hand. He tentatively licked at it, smudging a little on his lips.

“They taste like cranberries, a berry back on Earth,” he said quietly, picking another from the bowl.

“Oxoco berries were once grown on the planet Noxxal, they are now only grown on dedicated agriculture planets.” you shared, not quite letting your facade drop.

“Noxxal…” Shiro remembered that name being mentioned before, he remembered it from your fight with that other Galra commander.

“It is the planet I am from.” you explained carefully, “It was once very similar to other green planets such as your Earth, but after the Empire took over, all the natural resources were harvested and the planet became a toxic wasteland,”

Perhaps this Earthling was like you. Your tactics of nicety and caring were seen as deception and a threat. Letting one’s guard down was something so rare on this ship, and if this Earthling was like you in any sense, he would only give his trust to someone who equally trusted him. Perhaps that is why you were drawn to him.

“I am Noxxian and Galran, though that is not public knowledge,” you shared, momentarily being entirely transparent, “you are not to speak of my impure heritage to anyone else, understood?”

You were ashamed, deep down. And that truth was not one told lightly. His attitude seemed to shift a little as he nodded, he relaxed slightly.

“What is your name, Earthling?” you asked, wanting to refer to this man by his name than his species.

“...Shiro,” he said slowly, “-And we call ourselves ‘human’, not Earthling.”

Though you kept it well hidden, you were happy. He spoke a little more this time.

“Thank you, Shiro,” you said, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I am Commander (y/n) (l/n), but when we’re alone you may call me (y/n).”

The human - Shiro - nodded again, taking another berry from the bowl. His eye contect still remained fierce, but it was no longer malicious.

“I’m sure you have questions?” you asked with a sigh, relaxing into your chair, fully prepared for anything he had to ask.

“Where’s Matt? The other human I was with?” he asked instantly.

“After you injured him, he was deemed unfit to fight and sent off to one of the labour colonies,” you explained, “very smart of you to do that,”

He paused at your compliment, processing the information.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” you asked. It wasn’t a simple question to answer.

“I may be a commander of this empire, but that does not mean I agree with what it is or what it does,” you began slowly. Shiro looked as though he was about to talk, but you stopped him.

“You’ll ask ‘Why are you here then if you don’t agree with it?’ but it really isn’t that simple,” you explained, “on your Earth you know very little outside of your own solar system, but out here, the Galra Empire has taken over a third of known space and is constantly expanding,”

“Your Earth is just beyond the edge of the empire in its current state, but that won’t last forever,” Shiro looked to you, concerned, but you continued, “it has taken my ancestors generations to get to this respectable of a position in the empire, but from within I see all of its flaws. When a ruler is so incredibly ruthless and a society from inception has been built on war and ego, normal good people become warped and support the wrongdoings of the powerful because they have never known any other life.”

“And I need you,” you confessed.

“There is a weapon - Voltron - it is the only thing powerful enough to even threaten Zarcon’s position on the throne and, by extension, the empire as a whole,” you made sure the human was keeping up with you as you spoke, “to stop Zarkon from ever getting his hands on it, it was split up and hidden. One of its pieces is hidden on your planet.” His brows furrowed. 

“When the time is right, we will send you back to Earth. I don’t know when and I don’t know how. All I need, is your trust.”

“Why me?” Shiro asked, not yet grasping his position in all of this.

“You’re strong, you can fight, but you’re kind,” you said softly, “this ship will wear you down, and you’ll still have to fight in the arena, but I believe that if you escape, you could save the universe.”

You felt deeply sorry for the man, to be pulled out of a human life and dragged into intergalactic warfare, to have no choice but to fight endlessly for cheap entertainment or to fight for the freedom of his home planet. 

You sighed and reached for an oxoco berry just as Shiro did, causing you to draw your hand back at the physical contact. He looked confused for a moment, before taking two berries from the bowl and holding one out towards you. You unfurled your fingers and he pressed the berry into your palm.

His skin was… warm and squishy, it felt so fragile. How did this man kill a Galra with nothing but a blade? With your cold, hard skin, tough and smooth, yet this odd fleshy creature had the strength to kill, but a warm and gentle touch.

You shook yourself from that headspace. You took the berry and bit into it, savouring the tart flavour before standing up frm your seat.

“When we are alone, you will be free to roam my room, you may speak to me however you wish, and I will do my best to make you comfortable. But you must stay here.” you instructed Shiro, “If other Galra find out that I am treating you well and that you are not just my ‘pet’ the consequences would be dire for the both of us.”

You garnered no verbal response, but a curt nod was all you needed.

“As I’m sure you realise, none of this is to be spoken of outside of this room,”

“I understand,” he said, eyes never leaving you. He was trying to figure you out, the weird purple alien man who was kind in comparison to his warmongering species.

“I will do my best to keep you safe… though I fear my best may not be good enough.” you spoke quietly, half hoping the Earthling couldn’t hear you.

[chaosangel767]

Pyrrhic - Angst

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Prompt: Pyrrhic - A victory won at to great of a cost

Tw: Major Character deaths, Angst 

Word Count:1735

The air is bitter and cold matching the mood of the group of people gathered in front of the Civic Center. A large cloth is draped over a monument and the clouds are heavy. No one in the crowd is smiling, and while there are hundreds of people in the crowd, there is no cheerful sound, just hushed whispers. Three men mount the stage next to the cloth. The two Kings of Cradle and the record keeper, all dressed in formal wear. The little noise of the crowd dies away as the Record keeper starts to speak into the crystal mic. 

“Citizens of Cradle, today marks the day one year ago that 75 people gave their lives to protect Cradle from the shadows and ended the 500 years of fighting and bloodshed.” Blanc starts to open the ceremony, his voice solemn as he begins to speak, the two Kings on either side of him had lowered heads, grief from the day one year ago still fresh in their minds. 

“Today we remember these brave souls who risked everything they had to make sure that Cradle continued on. Today we remember Zero the Ace of Hearts, Fenrir Godspeed the Ace of Spades, Seth Hyde the 10 of Spades, Loki Genetta the Cheshire Cat, Alice the second…” There isn’t another sound in all of Cradle as Blanc rattles off the names of the 75 people that died, everyone’s head is bowed, the first row of the crowd is dedicated to the officers who fought, the deaths still fresh in their minds.  

The record Keeper stood in front of Cradle with an even voice and a calm demeanor, but he can still see the bloody aftermath the central quarter was in after the fight. The tower had figured out the plan at the last moment, and ambushed the unexpecting armies, a huge explosion went off injuring many of the citizens of Cradle and destroying a lot of the Central Quarter, Cradle’s famous inventor was still recovering. Blanc looks into the crowd where Oliver Knight was sitting, his face was scarred with the aftermath of the explosion and his arm had finally been released from its cast after months of trying to heal it.

Blanc looks over to where the King of Spades is standing, glancing down at the floor of the stage, pain and grief evident on his face. The image of a second explosion in the Forbidden forest fresh in his mind, Ray watches helplessly as Alice jumps in front of the armies with her kind smile and not an ounce of fear in her face. She managed to cast enough of a barrier over most of Cradle, negating the magic explosion and casting out the innate magic users in Cradle, saving their lives. The grieving King finally looks up, his gaze landing where his best friend and partner in crime would have sat, the vacant seat tears a hole in his heart. He looks down at his clasped hands, still seeing the blood that drenched his uniform. It should have been me. He quietly thought, remembering seeing the pain his best friend was in after taking the hit for his King. “Cradle needs you boss, it's not your time” Fenrir’s choked words and faint smile seared in the back of Ray’s head, his heart heavy as he remembered the fading magenta eyes. It wasn’t your time either buddy. You should be here causing chaos, it's hard to run Cradle without you. 

Ray shifts his gaze to his right, eyeing the second King of Cradle, the King of Hearts, who is standing tall, not a hint of emotion on his face, but under the cold mask there swirled a turbulence of regret, grief and anger. He gazes steadily across the crowd, thinking how only a few officers know the full scale of the war. The civilians only know that there was a group of terrorists and criminals who launched an attack on Cradle and that both armies and the sweet, caring Alice helped fight off the criminals, no one knew that the criminals were in fact the Magic tower, that is the secret the Army must bear alone. He should have been more careful and maybe the magic tower wouldn't have found out what was going on. He remembers the cruel smirk on Amon’s face as he made Lancelot watch the explosion from the tower, the way the smoke rose from the central quarter. Lancelot looks down at his hands, burns and scars covering his hands from where he lost control of his rage and collapsed the tower, taking the mad leader and disciples with him.  

Lancelot’s eyes drift from surveying the crowd to landing on his forever injured, but Faithful Queen. Jonah sat straight and proper as ever, not letting an ounce of shame fill him. The brave Queen had managed to find Lancelot and covered him from the explosion, costing him his legs, but saving his King. Jonah still acts like his usual self, only in the darkness of night does he let down his walls and reveal how frustrated he is, it is all his fault. He needed to save his King, he should have been there earlier and the tower wouldn’t have collapsed. Jonah meets the King's eyes and the two exchange a darkened gaze. 

The Jack of Hearts has jade eyes cast down to his belt where his fallen protege’s sword now lays. He runs his fingers along the hilt, not sure how to process the memories and pain he is feeling inside. The memory of his student taking the hit for him still makes his blood run cold. Taking one of his pristine white gloves off he runs his bare fingers against Zero’s blade, the cold metal does nothing to quell the aching in his heart. The gentle demon is no longer gentle, the kind smile he once wore no matter the situation now is a grim line on his face.  I should have told you how much I cared. I should have protected you more.

Next to the Jack of Hearts is the forever drunk medic, Kyle. His topaz eyes hold more sorrow, and everyday his heart grows a little heavier. He should have tried harder, if he was better at his job so many lives wouldn’t have been lost. He looks down at his hands, they should have been clean of bloodshed, but they hold more bloodshed than anyone in Cradle. He clenches his fists, turning over his hands and hiding them in his sleeves. I wasn’t good enough to save them, I am not worthy of saving anyone anymore. His eyes unfocused, he pulls a bottle from his pocket and takes a drink, the burning taste of alcohol slides down his throat and he hangs his head, still being haunted by the lifeless eyes of his friends. 

A man sits between the two armies, pain showing in his one eye. Harr Silver, the new leader of the Magic tower. Harr has barely spoken a word outside of Tower business since the fight. He was the one who gave Alice the crystals telling her it would help enhance her power, how was he going to know she would sacrifice herself? His eyes lower to the ground as he sees her body bathed in light, he should have known, her soul pure and selfless. He should have stopped her from absorbing the explosion. He looks down to the simple crystal around his neck, the crystal he gave her, the one she could have used to save herself, but instead she chose to save Cradle. The second crystal on his necklace belonged to his young apprentice, the one whose mischievous mismatched eyes he would never see again. He runs his fingers along the crystal, should he have helped them? If he helped them with the barrier maybe one of them would still be alive. 

Sirius the gentle Queen of Spades sits next to the quiet wizard and looks down still seeing the blood from the fallen Seth on his hands. If he had only been a few minutes faster, then Dalim wouldn’t have stabbed him in the back. Sirius clenches his hands and grits his jaw against the tears at hearing Seth's final strangled words apologizing for betraying the black army running over and over through his head. Sirius clenches his hand tighter, noticing the scars on his arm and seeing the invisible scar on his stomach from the fights, he looks up to the sky. Seth, I am so sorry, I should have been faster. 

Next to Sirius sits the quiet Jack of Spades, Luka. The shy and aloof Jack was now even more shy and aloof, he runs his unit and still cooks dinner, but he no longer seems to care about much else. He doesn’t enjoy cooking as much as he did when Alice was here to taste his food, her smile lighting up the kitchen as she helped him think up new recipes to try. Every night he still trains, his time asleep even less than before, his dreams plagued by the one he never said goodbye to, the one who should have been sent home. He can hear her words the night before the battle, when they argued about whether she should fight, the determination in her eyes as she demands to help. Cradle is my home now, I couldn’t possibly leave knowing you guys could get hurt. When you care about people it hurts to see them hurt. Luka fights back the tears escaping his vision, he traces the necklace in his hands, the one he gave her. He wasn’t strong enough when he needed to be and now she was gone. His amber gold eyes find their way up to the sky as he thinks of his friend now flying high. 30 days wasn’t enough time with you, eternity wouldn’t have been. 

 The 7 officers all look to the brand new memorial, to the names of the fallen. Cradle won, Cradle was safe, but the cost of the victory was high. The lives lost that day gave Cradle the ability to move on and live. The love paid the way for us remaining to love our families, laugh with our friends and spend our days doing what we loved. The war was won, Cradle was safe, but was the cost of victory worth it?