#HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TYPE-- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anonymous-dentist · 6 months ago

Text

Or: a PJO AU

Cellbit hasn't been a demigod since he was eight years old staring a snake woman in the eyes in downtown Manhattan. It's been almost ten years since then, and he hasn't bothered with the gods since. (Good riddance.)

But then, of course, Richarlyson.

And then, of course, the spiders.

Oh, the spiders...

So now Cellbit has Richarlyson in the back seat of a stolen car with Pac and Mike on either side of him, Felps riding shotgun and shouting insults at the dozen or so dog-sized spiders chasing them down the highway. They're just under five minutes away from where Cellbit vaguely remembers camp being, which means Richarlyson is just under five minutes away from what is going to be the worst day of his life.

(Cellbit never got claimed, thank the gods. Mike says that he doesn't believe in divine authority, so he won't recognize whoever his parent is. Pac is long-claimed by now, but this also isn't his camp or pantheon. And Felps is... Felps.)

Richarlsyon has his headphones on, and he's watching The Lorax on his tablet (also stolen.) This is probably why the spiders are chasing them, but Cellbit doesn't have the heart to take it away from them.

Spiders... eugh. Of course, it just had to be spiders.

Cellbit watches a spider lunge for the driver's side door via the side mirror.

With a grimace, he takes one hand off of the wheel and slams his door open with his free hand.

The spider goes flying, and it's immediately run over and squished into a spider-shaped mass of goo on the road.

"Ewwww," Pac complains.

Cellbit wrinkles his nose in agreement. He pulls his door shut and stabilizes the car and tries not to think about how the squished-up spider is going to reform in a second and come after him and probably, like, murder him in his sleep after he drops Richarlyson off.

(The downside of refusing to associate with the gods for a decade is a distinct lack of celestial bronze weaponry. Except for...)

"Keep an eye out for a sign," Cellbit tells the others. "It's... strawberries? Something about strawberries."

The car jerks as a couple of spiders leap onto the trunk and start hissing.

Cellbit swears and sharply turns the car to the left, sending the spiders- and Mike- flying.

Mike shouts, and then he screams as a spider jumps up onto the window next to him.

"What the fuck?" he yells. "Pac!"

"Got it!" Pac cheerily says.

With only a little hesitation, he unbuckles his seat belt, leans across both an unbothered Richarlyson and a freaked-out Mike, rolls the window down, and stabs the spider through with the blade of his gladius. The spider screeches and dissolves into dust.

One down, so many more to go.

Pac grins and sits back in his seat. He ruffles Richarlyson's hair as he does so, retracting his sword back into his watch and re-buckling his seat belt.

Cellbit turns his attention back to the road. No signs yet... but it's also been ten years since he's been in New York, let alone at camp. Things could have changed. Things probably did change, and probably not for the better. Maybe the campers lost the war. Maybe the Titans won (but probably not considering the world hasn't been destroyed in the years since 2009.) Maybe Bagi-

"Delphi Strawberry Service," Felps hums. He looks at Cellbit. "Is that it?"

Cellbit answers by jerking the car so hard to the right that everybody inside, himself included, is pulled to the side. He grits his teeth and tries to stay as upright as he can.

(Why is he the only one who can drive, again?)

The car pulls onto a familiar gravel road. There's a tall tree on the hill ahead of them. Even through the windows, Cellbit can smell the scent of sweet, fresh strawberries and bonfire smoke. There are people on the hill braiding flowers.

The spiders continue giving chase. One must manage to puncture one of the tires with its fangs, because one of the lights on the dashboard goes red, and the car starts to wobble and slow down.

Cellbit groans and presses his foot to the gas. "Nooo, come on!"

They're so close! He can see the Golden Fleece waving in the wind.

He can also see a very large statue of a woman towering above the treeline. She looks... familiar. In a bad way.

Cellbit shudders and tears his eyes away from the statue. It's none of his business, anyway; he's just dropping Richarlyson off, and then he and the others are leaving before they're noticed.

Another tire is popped. The car stops.

Finally, Richarlyson takes his headphones off.

"Where are we?" he asks.

Cellbit tries to smile at him through the rear-view mirror.

"We're going to summer camp, remember?" he attempts.

Richarlyson- six years old and too smart for his age- does not appear to be too happy about that statement. Makes sense, he didn't want to leave California in the first place. Cellbit doesn't blame him; the weather is much more tolerable there than it is in New York.

The car shakes as spiders start climbing it. They start trying to break through the windows using their evil little spider legs and their absolutely horrifying spider fangs: enormous pointy things oozing a purple liquid that bubbles as it hits the glass.

Cellbit bites back a whimper. They're so big...

Pac's mouth narrows. He presses the button on his watch and only flinches a little as his gladius pops out of it.

Mike steels himself. He clicks his seat belt off, and he picks his bag up off of the floor and puts it in his lap- ready to run.

Felps, though, smiles wide and turns around in his seat to look at Richarlyson.

"Are you ready to run again?" he asks.

Richarlyson is good at many things, but he's best at running away from his problems (just like everyone else in the car), and the killer spiders are definitely problems.

So Richarlyson nods and clutches his tablet to his chest. He should really leave it behind, but...

"On the count of three," Cellbit tells everybody.

He takes his seat belt off and gets his backpack from the floor by his feet. He checks his boot and lets out a tense breath. Okay. It's there.

"Um," Cellbit says.

The spiders manage to crack the back windshield. Richarlyson gasps and rushes to take his seat belt off.

"Dois."

Pac yanks his seat belt off and grabs the door handle. His eyes flicker between the spiders and Richarlyson and Mike and Cellbit and Felps, though they linger on Felps for just a moment too long to be normal.

(Oh, Pac...)

"Três!"

Cellbit shoves the door open and jumps out of it, pulling his knife from his boot and stabbing it right into the abdomen of the closest spider.

"Wait, you meant on three!?" Pac screeches, tumbling out of the car and swinging his gladius at the nearest group of spiders.

"Yes!" Cellbit snaps. "What did you think I meant?"

He rips the knife out of the spider, panting heavily from both fear and exhilaration. The edges of his vision are red and dripping with blood, but the spider simple crumbles into dust at his hands.

Mike stumbles out of the car, Richarlyson in his arms and his bag on his back.

"I thought you meant after you counted to three!" Pac shouts.

He spins in a neat circle and manages to decapitate two spiders at once. They dissolve, but two more spiders take their places immediately.

Mike takes off down the road towards the hill, grumbling about Richarlyson's weight as he goes. Richarlyson starts talking about Mike's weight in return, and there are spiders.

There are spiders.

Oh fuck.

Knife's effects be damned, Cellbit screams and jerks backwards in sheer terror as a spider scrambles onto his side of the car. He falls onto his ass on the gravel and scoots away, eyes wide. His hands shake and his vision flickers back into something resembling normalcy and he can't breathe- fucking spiders, of course they're spiders! What else would they be? Fucking spiders, of course!

"Cellbit!" Pac cries.

"I've got him," Felps says, finally getting out of the car.

He calmly raises his arms above his head and stretches. As he does so, he walks around the side of the car and crouches by Cellbit's side.

"These things suck," he tells Cellbit, voice so low that Cellbit is convinced that only he can hear it. "Let's just run away."

There's just that smallest hint of magic in his voice, but Cellbit isn't worried about it. No, he's used to it. He's known Felps basically since he ran away, he's more than used to it.

His body stands. Cellbit only comes back to himself as he's approaching the hill, Felps and Pac close behind.

He skids to a stop just in front of the camp borders. He can seen Mike and Richarlyson already safe on the other side, and he can see a group of campers gathered around them and attending to Richarlyson, whose fake tears are convincing enough to get three or so campers to give him all of their flower crowns and chains.

Pac crosses the border and shivers. He immediately runs to Mike's side, clicking his gladius away and taking Richarlyson from him.

Felps stops next to Cellbit.

"Come on," he whispers. "The spiders, man."

Cellbit gulps. He feels all tingly; the statue of the woman stares angrily down at him, furious over his very existence.

A spider hisses, entirely too close to Cellbit for his comfort.

He yelps and rushes across the border, and it feels like his first breath of fresh air in a decade as he does so.

He hates it.

Felps follows, sticking close to Cellbit's side. He smiles and waves politely at the campers staring at the two of them.

Or, well. Staring at the air over Cellbit's head.

One of the campers, a taller boy with messy brown hair and a blue bandana loosely tied around his forehead, looks positively befuddled. Why?

"Don't get any bright ideas," Cellbit warns the campers. "I'm not staying. None of us are."

Richarlyson raises a dejected hand. "Except for me. They're abandoning me..."

He bursts into a fresh round of crocodile tears. Most of the campers coo and gather around him and Pac and Mike; Cellbit watches as Pac steals the watch off of a girl's wrist, and as Mike snags a solid handful of golden rings from several different campers. (Nothing ever changes.)

But the boy with the bandana keeps staring at Cellbit.

Slightly unnerved, Cellbit shuffles closer to Felps, who ignores him and looks up at the statue with his hand acting as a visor over his eyes.

"Oh, look. The Athena Parthenos," he comments. "When did that get here?"

Athena...

He nudges Cellbit in the side with a grin. "Look, Cellbit. It's your mom!"

...What?

"No," Cellbit firmly says, completely ignoring the various puzzle pieces clicking into place in his head. "I don't have a mom. Now, come on, we need to take care of the..."

He trails off as he turns around and sees the gaggle of spiders pressed up against the camp's barrier hissing and quivering and oozing.

His voice trails off into a whisper: "...spiders."

He can't help it. He drops his knife in shock, and, as he does so, an ice-cold needle jams itself into the side of his brain.

Cellbit immediately drops to his knees and scrambles to pick the knife up. He wipes it on his jeans, holds it, looks at it, loves it.

His reflection in the blade is clear. The glowing golden owl symbol floating above his head is even clearer.

"Told you," Felps says.

Cellbit reaches back and smacks his leg. Felps kicks at him. Cellbit smacks him again.

Richarlyson starts crying again. This time, he sounds serious. (He is only six...)

Cellbit sighs and stands, carefully tucking his knife back into his boot as he does so.

As he raises his head, he's met with the boy with the bandana standing only a foot or so away from him with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, "so if you don't want to stay, keep away from the training grounds. The Athena cabin is down there, and I... well, let's just say the head counselor is gonna want to see you."

He winks, and he walks off to join the other campers.

The Athena cabin's head counselor... who? If he's, then... oh, fuck.

Cellbit grabs Felps' arm and looks up at him desperately.

"Kill the spiders," he begs. "Please. We need to get out of here."

Felps pats the back of Cellbit's head reassuringly.

He smiles. "No."

And then he goes to squeeze through the campers to get to Richarlyson, who immediately brightens upon seeing him.

Cellbit looks at the spiders. He looks at the- what did Felps call it?- Athena Parthenos. He looks at the campers.

He looks at the hill as there's a scream from it, a screechy: "What the fuck? Are those spiders?"

The boy with the bandana looks up at the girl on the hill and offers a wave. "Bagi! Hey! I thought you were training?"

"I heard screaming," the girl explains. "I came to help."

She has a sword in one of her hands and a shield in the other. She's gotten her nose pierced in the last ten years. She looks... happy.

Quietly, Cellbit starts backing away. If he can make it into the woods and then run, he might be able to outsmart the spiders before they can catch him.

The girl looks at Richarlyson. She looks at Pac and Mike and Felps.

And then she looks at Cellbit, and she drops her sword.

Yeah, no.

Cellbit turns on his heel, and he books it into the forest.

He hasn't been a demigod in ten years, and he sure as hell isn't going to start again now.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#qsmppjo au #<- that's it that's the tag #idk how happy i am with this? but i love writing these types of chase-action scenes

175 notes · View notes

justaz · 4 months ago

Text

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance “like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.

#long post #this is so long #im so sorry #it was supposed to be maybe four paragraphs #idk how i got here #this is like a ficlet but not #its not meant to be a fic i promise #it was supposed to be lance like character study sorta #lance going from prideful insecure egotistical pretty boy to confident in himself and his abilities and healing his deep rooted insecuritie #also klance #bc i cant help it #they make a good team #red and blue #soulmates #vld #voltron #klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #yea i touched on langst bc that was a core component to my vld fandom experience #and you can pry it from my cold dead hands #i havent read this over so pls forgice any spelling/grammar mistakes #i think i started typing this at like 4 am and its almost 7 now so yeah #this might not even make a lick of sense #its fine #bamf lance #black paladin lance #voltron rewrite #lol

52 notes · View notes