#Shiro muse being lonely

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Day 1: Fairytales and Myths

Tags: @loturaweek2024 Curses, fairy tale elements, Bearskin (the myth), political marriage but also for love sort of, magic, background Alfor/Melenor, background Keith/Shiro, betrothals, attempted kidnapping, rescue, Lotor’s generals are there

Read on AO3

***

“You are fortunate,” mused the angry and spiteful druid while Lotor snarled up at him, ensnared in glowing purple chains made of magic and aether, “that the same magic you came here to steal from me does not allow me to kill you outright.”

Lotor thought, not for the first time, that it would be significantly more Galra to just put a knife in his gut than rely on their magic for literally everything. But if they were so wrapped up in their world of spells and power that they forgot their own fangs and claws that they were born with, well, Lotor wouldn’t be the one to remind them. This druid in specific seemed particularly filled with his own hubris.

A pelt, some heavy, thick-furred thing thumped down on his shoulders, and he shifted minutely from the weight.

“I curse you,” the druid said, voice going echoey with magic. “You shall not bathe for seven decaphoebes, nor cut your hair nor claws, you shall not cease to wear this pelt, nor sleep under one roof for more than a single night, and no one may travel with you for more than three quintents. Should you break any of these bindings, this curse will kill you.”

“And if I succeed, for seven decaphoebes?” Lotor asked, still snarling, still bearing his (small, Altean) fangs.

The druid was quiet.

“You must include a win-condition, witch. I know your magic’s rules.” He would not have risked infiltrating this place if he did not have a contingency plan for if he was caught, after all.

The druid made a snarling, growling, impatient noise.

“If you should last all seven decaphoebes, then the magic you seek will be yours. Now get out!”

Another rush of magic and Lotor found himself at the mouth of the small cave that hid the entrance to the druid’s lair. He grit his teeth and stood, shaking as though to dislodge the remnants of the purple magic.

Seven years.

More than he’d bargained for, but less than he was willing to pay for his goals. He already grew his hair long, and he was not one to frequently stay in one place for too long. That was doable.

The claws and bathing situation would be the most intolerable, he did not doubt.

Seven years.

He could do this.

In the first year: he could do this. He was centuries old and, if theories on how he aged were to be considered correct, he would have centuries more. Seven years would be nothing. A drop in a bucket. He used it to prepare, especially the first few months, when he smelled more or less tolerable. Any time it rained he spent as much time as he could in the water, knowing that washing in a river or stream would count. Magic was always fickle, and always skewed in favor of the worst. While he could still passably show his face in civilization, he stockpiled supplies enough to last him seven years, or near enough to it he could supplement when the time came.

In the second year: he had to leave Daibazaal. His country of origin was hardly a home, and hadn’t been since he was young and innocent and still so painfully naive. But he did know it, and he knew that all the many flora that thirsted for his blood and fauna that would chew on his bones could smell him for miles in each direction. He knew it intellectually, and he knew it viscerally, blood steaming across the pelt he wore and sliding down the blade he wrested free from the fresh carcass of a beast that wished to eat him. Oh, how he wished for a bath.

In the third year: he couldn’t do this. He could not bear this. He was not even halfway through and his own stench and fatigue were driving him insane. Being so constantly exposed to the elements was killing him, though the pelt was so thick and heavy it kept him plenty warm. And he was lonely. In the third year, Narti finally found him, Kova hissing and prowling just outside the edges of Lotor’s reach, recognizing him but also not. She wanted to help him, as best she could, but he explained the curse to her, the druid putting no binding on his tongue at least. She then offered to go kill the druid for him, and he insisted that she not, not until the witch’s power was his. She stated she would stay with him, despite her nose being even sharper than Lotor’s, and he reminded her that it could be for no more than three quintents, or the magic would kill him (and he doubted it would be instant, or painless).

She left with the promise to tell the others, and to bring back supplies for him. Just to drop off and then leave again. She promised she wouldn’t stay.

In the third year: Ezor found him, always best at finding things, and with her she brought Zethrid and Acxa. It was the best three days of these miserable three years, even with his companions wrinkling their noses at his scent the whole time.

In the fourth year: he left the billowing wilds that existed between Daibazaal, harsh and dangerous but inhabitable, and into Altea, the lush and verdant valleys beneath the billowing wilds’ mountains. Not to say that Altea did not come with its own dangers, no, just that they were more like the mountain creatures, not quite so capable of killing a lone wanderer as Daibazaal’s would have been.

In the fourth year:

Allura tied up her hair and shifted her hands, magic tickling as it turned her palms into suction cups. She descended from her room as only wayward princesses could, and hopped down onto the vibrantly green grass of the lawn with a little thrill of success.

With the tensions between Daibazaal and Altea on the rise once again, and all citizens from both countries feeling like a resumed war was all but a forgone conclusion, her parents had been increasingly strict with her. On a certain level, she understood, she was a princess after all, it was her job to understand.

On the other hand: she’d gone to the little brook with the little waterfall dozens upon dozens upon dozens of times, without any harm nor threat to her person. It was right next to the palace grounds, and she only ever managed to squeeze in an hour or two before her knights quit canoodling and came to find her anyway. She would be fine, just as she’d been fine every time before.

There was nowhere in all of Altea, in Allura’s opinion, that was a better place for magic than that little waterfall. Something about the place seemed almost to glow with magic, every drop of water and blade of grass and rustling leaf full to overflowing with rich mana. It drew her in, excited and comforted her, enthralled her and cleared her mind. Magic poured from her fingers like the water she lifted, guiding it to dance about her in a spiraling river floating suspended around her person, twirling slowly as she dragged the water about in lazy loops.

Even the sunlight here felt different, warm and yellow but not beating down on her, even in summer heat. It sparkled and twisted around her like the water did, slowly spinning and dancing across the shimmering surface, Allura’s skirts shallowly twirling around her calves, and she smiled and let her mind sink into the magic present here, imbuing everything.

It was that magic, present even in the twigs of a bush and the berries crushed underfoot, that alerted her that she was not alone.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t dare try to fight against near a dozen heavy boots. One moment she was smiling serenely, surrounded by glistening spirals of water, the next she was running so fast the water didn’t even have time to hit the ground before she burst through it. Shouts behind her, unmistakably Galra, and heavy footfall followed, but she didn’t dare look. She was fast.

But Galra were faster.

A giant, purple hand clamped over her mouth, a scream wrested from her too late and muffled by the flesh, and she hit the ground with a cry of pain, knees and palms skidding in the dirt.

“Grab her!”

She fought back, because of course she did. Princess trained in the art of diplomacy and regal bearing though she was, Allura was no weak fighter, and she was not one to cow in the face of unfair odds.

But they were unfair. She knocked two briefly unconscious, but she hadn’t brought her staff, not believing she’d need it, and these Galra were armored and armed, one opening a deep gash across the back of her leg, another finally getting his dagger pointed at her throat and compelling her to behave.

“You won’t kill me,” she spat, even as her preservation instincts forced her to obey.

“No. But you don’t need both eyes.”

She screamed a protest—she was submitting!—as he raised the dagger to plunge it into her eye, but then a dagger protruded from his own, sinking much deeper than just the eye. He toppled off her, dead, and the Galra turned on their new aggressor.

A beast, wilder than all imagining, lept from the foliage, its pelt hideous and bloodstained, matted with mud and dried viscera, its claws long as knives and yellow and flaking, silvery lengths of something dragging behind it as it fell upon its victims. The Galra shouted, united now against this beast, and Allura staggered to her feet, or tried to. The gash in her leg made fleeing nearly impossible, and she leaned against the tree as she watched the beast dispatch of the Galra, one by one by one, until there were none left alive to contest it.

Its yellow gaze fell upon her next, and she realized belatedly that she looked at no monster at all.

“You’re Altean!” she gasped, the man before her so deeply dirtied with various filth that she could not see even an inch of skin beneath the horrible mess, but his face was, poking out from the disgusting fur, unmistakably that of, well, a man. An Altean’s proud cheekbones and narrow jaw, eyes yellow as a Galra but silver hair (it was hair!) long and ripe with magic.

The man chuckled at her. “I suppose it only fair that you confused me for a beast.”

“Good sir, anyone would.” Sounds of armor—familiar, Altean—and rushed footfall came from the direction of the palace grounds. “Please, you are my savior, come into my home and be bathed and rewarded for your service.”

“I cannot bathe, princess,” he said, with every reverence of her subjects, “nor did I do this for a reward. I will leave.”

“You saved my life!” Allura insisted as Keith and Shiro burst into the clearing, swords drawn and lips flushed and kiss-bitten, confusion on their brows as they took stock of the dead Galra on the ground and the beast man their charge now argued with. “You would do me a great dishonor by not allowing me to repay you!”

The man seemed visibly to hesitate at that, and then acquiesced. “If for your honor only, princess. But I cannot remain.”

“At least stay the night,” she insisted, now half-frantic to have this strange man remain for any time at all, curiosity burning through her as fervently as the magic had only recently flowed.

“The night,” he agreed, bowing low, the mess of fur and hair and viscera and fresh blood shambling with his motion, “but no longer.”

The man spoke of precious little, despite Allura’s best attempts at interrogation. She learned not even his name. He would not allow any of her staff to bathe or groom him, though she noted that while his hair was dirty, it was remarkably untangled. He was certainly Altean, but his nails were more akin to claws. And of course, the yellow eyes.

At dinner, her parents hosted the man who’d saved their daughter’s life, because of course they did.

“Traditionally,” Queen Melenor remarked, though she was severe and stately in the way Allura knew she held herself when she discussed things she’d rather not, “the reward for saving a princess’s fool life from a band of murderous kidnappers would be that princess’s hand in marriage.”

Allura heard the man’s breath hitch, and for a brief moment, open want lined his filth-obscured features, before he shuttered again to something vaguely polite and unreadable.

“I could never ask for such a thing, being as I am.”

“Being as you are?” Allura said, sounding more accusatory than she’d meant. “A kind stranger who saved my life?”

“You have no proof of any kindness,” the man said, with a low chuckle that made her feel strange and hot.

“Only my life and well-being.”

“You speak as though you would wish to wed me.”

Allura’s mouth opened, then shut.

“Exactly.”

“Perhaps I would!” she said, drawing herself to full height while seated and glowering at the man, challenge in her tone.

“Allura,” her father scolded quietly, as he always did when her temper and stubbornness sent her headlong down paths her good sense would otherwise steer her clear from.

“...Allow me three years, then, princess,” the beast man said slowly, gaze never leaving hers. “I have matters I must attend, and am unable to remain here, nor take you with me. If, in three years, when I return, you still wish to wed me, we might discuss it then.”

Queen Melenor sighed, and Allura winced only briefly at the tone of her mother’s breath. Oh the lecture she’d receive once this man departed would be mighty. “You have more good sense than my daughter, it would seem. Please be made comfortable in our home, and if there is anything you wish for, merely ask it.”

“A grimoire, Your Majesty, if I may be bold enough to request it.”

“You’ve magic?” Allura asked, reaching out to touch the man’s face, where his Altean marks should be beneath the dirt, and rescinding her hand when he flinched from her.

“Call it a future investment.”

“Grimoires we have aplenty,” her father stated, “I’ll have one copied for you by the morrow.”

“My thanks.”

Allura, kept up late by her own desperately curious, gnawing thoughts, had to drag herself, bleary and miserable, from her bed to prevent from missing the stranger’s departure. She witnessed her father hand him a grimoire, and he bowed, first to the sovereign queen, then to the king, and then, lower, slower, with something like heat in his eyes, finally to the princess.

“Damn,” she mumbled when the stranger was gone, but comforted herself that at least, for the next three years, she’d have an easy dismissal of all talk of suitors.

In the fifth year: Lotor was nearly killed by a huntsman mistaking him for a beast.

In the sixth year: Lotor was nearly killed by a team of monster hunters, who he had to persuade with Narti’s coin to leave him be, paying higher than the village who’d hired them. He wandered elsewhere with faster purpose, after that, and committed himself to greater stealth. Narti was unbearably smug when next she delivered supplies, forcing more coin into the hands of a man who had no reliable use for it.

In the seventh year: Nearly killed again, by huntsmen and monster hunters both. But he was on his way out of Altea. On his way through the billowing wilds, climbing and descending that mountain. He’d memorized the grimoire, but kept hold of it, a baffling yet precious memory now tied to its cover and pages.

At the end of the seventh year: he returned to the small cave where he’d first found the druid. His time was up, or near enough to it, and the moment the magic was his he would take vengeance for the seven years of misery he’d suffered. There he found Narti, there he found Ezor, there he found Zethrid, there he found Acxa, still loyal to him after seven years of absence, and he counted such loyalty more precious than all the gold in all the world.

“First, we kill the druid,” he ordered, feeling the curse sizzle along his skin as it warped into a blessing. “Then I take a quiznacking bath.”

At the end of the third year of waiting:

Allura was forced by circumstance to put her curiosity for her betrothed-to-be on hold, as political upheaval shook the land.

Her father’s old ally finally declared war upon her mother’s country, and Altea raised its arms for bloodshed. But as they prepared their weapons and rallied their armies, another missive came: Emperor Zarkon was dead, long live the Emperor.

Lotor, former prince, son of Zarkon who Allura had never met, shame to his family line and whose mother was Altean, had bested his father in ritual combat, according to Galra custom and law, and had seized the throne. Altea continued to rally, not sure if the bastard son would hold the same temperament as his father, but the tension that had built between their lands hung now, most definitely confused in perplexed balance.

Then an official letter from the Emperor, validated by report after report from their scouts: Lotor was coming, not with an army, but with a diplomatic envoy, to speak to the royals of Altea face to face.

Her mother was stern and stately, poised and graceful and elegant, the sovereign of Altea, bearer of the Altean royal line, pride and jewel of their nation, its Queen.

Her father was tense and stiff, militant and grave, leader of their armies and father of the nation, sire of Altea’s heir and husband to their sovereign.

Allura wasn’t quite sure what she was. But she drew herself up, a shadow of her mother’s grace, stiffened her lip and brow, a mimic of her father’s gravity, and lifted her chin, a prideful stubbornness that was all hers.

Whatever the Emperor Lotor came here for, he would find it on Altea’s terms, or he would leave without it. Or, if it might make for a swifter path for peace, she would slaughter him in this very reception hall. She had her staff with her today.

The Galran procession arrived in waves, wargs and beastmasters first, towering Galra broad each as a mountain and bearing heavy shields second, four mismatched women each bearing the new royal crest and colors third, and in their center: Emperor Lotor.

He was the singularly most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Long, plaited, silver hair that nearly dragged the ground, Altean bones and Galran eyes, soft velvety purple fur so short it could pass for skin, pointed ears pierced with glinting gems in silver casings, and on his cheeks, two marks that glowed with powerful magic.

She shivered, feeling less certain of her ability to slaughter him where he stood, should he pose threat. His magic was enough, indeed, to rival her own, and she was famed throughout Altea for her prowess, her own marks pink and luminous.

“My thanks for hosting on such short notice,” the emperor began, seeming perfectly at ease surrounded by distinctly uneasy Altean guardsmen.

“Our thanks for your peaceful arrival. Are we too optimistic in hoping it may bode for a peaceful future between our nations?” Queen Melenor of Altea answered, staring down at him with regal coolness from the dias they three stood on.

“Not at all,” he assured with a smile. “I am as hopeful for such as you are.” A sigh escaped the whole room, tension palpably leaving. Allura was not exempt, tension loosening from her shoulders.

“Though I would start by returning what was borrowed. I know you gave it to me as a gift, but I would return it as a show of good faith.”

That piqued Allura’s curiosity. As far as she knew, her parents had never met the then-prince Lotor any more than she had. But as the emperor of Daibazaal approached, Allura’s breath caught in her throat.

He extended, to Alfor, a grimoire. The same grimoire her father had given her intended three years ago.

“You!” she gasped, rushing forward and grabbing him by the wrist, making his generals tense but ignoring them, staring instead at his yellow eyes.

“Me,” he agreed with a smile, staring at her with that same reverence he’d held three years ago. “I hope my appearance is more agreeable to you, now, than it was then, as I have little desire to return to such a state.”

“More than,” she said with a wild grin. “Please, come in and be hosted by us, I would have my betrothed explain to me how I may find him in such different states as this!”

“Well,” she heard her father murmur to her mother as she beckoned their guests inside, “I suppose a wedding is one way to end all this.”

And so it would be.

But first, they went to dinner.

[void-tiger]

For all the many, many faults of the franchise and its creator…

…how the hell does Konoha invoke the feeling of home?!

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Kidge, 15, Emotional prompts - bliss?

Ah, something soft and sweet for these cuties~!

Most of his life had been spent jumping from one miserable moment to the next. As far as Keith could recall, that was just his lot. There’d been happy moments in his youth with his father, but once he lost him, there was very little to be overjoyed about. There were the moments of levity with Shiro once he made it into the Garrison, the joy of having a mentor who genuinely cared about his growth and development. But those moments were interrupted by his struggles with fitting into the strict regulations the Garrison had and the hazings from people like James Griffin. Once Shiro was gone, he’d been quick to flake out of the Garrison and bail out into the desert alone.

He was alone and it sucked, but he supposed it was better than being misunderstood. Then finding the Blue Lion and joining Team Voltron happened.

It was difficult at first. His newfound teammates were not the easiest sort to get along with. At least, not back then. They were all somewhat unruly and it was only the combination of the high consequences they were facing as well as Shiro and Allura reining them in that had started the changes. Then Shiro went missing and Keith himself was forced to step into the role of leader, foisted in the Black Lion’s cockpit by her stubborn decision. It hadn’t been particularly easy to settle into the role but… He always had one person’s support.

Despite how rocky their relationship had been in the beginning, she quite quickly came to be his most faithful and loyal confidante. She was just as stubborn as he was, unrelenting in the face of his spewing venom, but was also quick to his defense when she felt he was in the right. She was an intelligent woman with a set of skills that complimented his own quite well and, while she could get swept up in her emotions as well, she was typically a lot better at keeping emotions and facts exclusive from one another. He admired that about her as they got older and moved on from their work as Paladins of Voltron.

Even now, with his work with the Blade keeping him far from the rest of Voltron, Pidge was a constant in his life. She was his link with the Garrison to coordinate the Blade movements and garnering further assistance. And, if he was honest, she was his saving grace. It was good to have someone who just got him on the level she did. He felt like breathing was easier around her, like the world was brighter and softer for her being in it.

He loved her more than words could describe, really.

“You ready?” He jolted up and glanced behind him, smiling at the approaching figure. She looked so different outside of her usual lab coat and beige slacks, carefully adjusting the goggles she’d pulled over her glasses. Instead, she was dressed up in his old jacket and some black jeans. It was a more fitting outfit given what they’d be doing.

“Ready when you are,” he mused, tossing a helmet in her direction. She caught it easily and grinned wider as she finagled it on her head. He chuckled as she re hacked the straps before clicking it all together. "You don't need to check that every time, you know. You're the only one I take with me on the hoverbike."

"Yeah, but what if they come loose? Better safe than sorry!"

"I've watched you whip yourself, like, 65 feet in the air with ease during battle with no regard for what could happen to you, but a hover bike helmet is where you draw the line?” 

“And do you know what I was always wearing?” She paused a beat before rapping her knuckles against the helmet. “My Paladin helmet!”

He outright laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay. Point made,” he chuckled, twisting the throttle and bringing the bike to life. It let out one loud, sharp roar before settling into an even purr. It made a part of him miss the days of Voltron, of piloting a Lion through space. He thought back on the lonely child he used to be and wondered how he would have reacted to being told that, someday, he would have a patchwork family he wouldn’t trade for the world. And it was all thanks to following a calling from an intergalactic sentient mecha. He had so much he had gained from his time on the team that he could never thank those giant mechanical cats enough for. “Hey, Katie?”

“Yeah?” she asked with a hum as she mounted behind him.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, knowing she could see the look in his eyes through the visor. “Thank you, For staying with me,”

She blinked in surprise before smiling at him, her expression softening too. He couldn’t fight back a smile at the sheer warmth in that look alone. “I could say the same to you. Or, well, I guess it would be more ‘thanks for putting up with me’ in my case,” she said.

“I don’t have to put up with you, you know. I like it better when you’re around,” He was getting brazen with his words, he knew, but he couldn’t find that he necessarily cared. Her arms looped around his waist tight, her head coming to rest between his shoulders. “I feel like there’s no limits when I’m with you, like I can just be me and that’s enough. Is that weird?”

“Only if it’s weird that I feel like that too,” she said with a breathless little laugh. Then, because she never liked when things were sappy for too long, she gave his belly a little pinch. “Now show me what this old girl can do! You were bragging about all the work you and your mom put into this baby! Show me what she can do!”

He grinned as he revved the bike up again. There’d be more time to talk after the ride, maybe over dinner.

[willadisastercry]

Pidge is less okay than everyone thought... and that’s okay

Tw: detailed description of a panic attack, unintentional self harm (not intense or graphic)

Shiro and Lance are the only one’s who seem to be able to help when Pidge has an anxiety attack, they’re also the only people who know she even actively has them. But Pidge has overworked herself all week, not getting enough sleep or even bothering to eat much before today’s mission. So when she faces a hitch in an attempt to acquire possibly crucial intel that could put her family back together, she can’t steal her nerves quick enough before this one comes on and nothing seems to be working to calm her down this time.

“Really good work out there today, guys. Relax and rest a bit before we regroup later to discuss.”

Pidge had barely noticed Shiro was even speaking, too enthralled in the prospect of what could possibly be contained on the drive she’d secured with galra intel from today’s mission.

“Awh, come onnn Shiro. Can’t we just call it a night? I’m so wiped.”

Flight plans, prisoner logs, cargo shipment details, the possibilities were really endless and anything could get her one step closer to finding her father and brother. She couldn’t get complacent now.

“Would you rather wake up early tomorrow morning—“

“NO! No, forget I asked. Ugh,” Lance urged before huffing in frustration as he sprawled himself across the couch in the common room, everyone else already following suit and nearly entirely atop of one another.

They all seemed content to remain like that, but Pidge felt like there were bugs crawling under her skin. She didn’t want to relax, she didn’t know if she could.

Her heart pumped erratically in her chest as she felt more and more useless sitting on a couch relaxing when she could be analyzing the data that just might help her find her family.

“Anyone else have—“

“I’m going to go ‘relax’ in my lab,” Pidge announced resolutely.

“Uh, Pidge, you know the whole point of relaxing is ya know, not doing anything, right?”Hunk asked as Keith shifted to allow him to release her from under the weight of his arm where it fell in their semi dog pile onto the couch.

“I need to start my diagnostics on the encrypted files I retrieved before they corrupt,” Pidge’s words were pointed and direct.

“Lone galra cruisers don’t usually have tech guys, it’ll take some time to relay the news of the attack over to hq and even more time for them to properly investigate and figure out what we got away with... you’ve got plenty of time Pidge—“

“Well, we weren’t exactly stealthy and they could have failsafes already initiated ready to go at any moment! It’s crucial that I review and decrypt as much as I can before all of our work goes to hell—“

“I thought we were sorta clean with it...” Keith muttered deep in thought as he reviewed their performance over in his head.

“Woah, slow down,” Lance interjected everyone, “if you’re still mad at me about not catching that last sentry before you were done cleaning out all of the files from the server then, I get that, but you don’t need to be so—“

“Guys, guys! We’ll discuss it later, for now everyone’s only job is to chill out, and Pidge, you can go work in your lab as long as you promise to come to the meeting later with a cooler head, deal?”

“Yeah, whatever. Deal,” she gruffed before taking off towards Green’s hangar to retrieve the usb from today’s mission.

“Jeez,” Hunk sighed as he fixed his headband back into place from where it had slipped down.

“And I thought I could be hot-headed...” Keith mused almost in awe but also worry because why was Pidge this worked up over some data that may or may not even be helpful?

“I was still down from a blast during hand to hand with the second wave of sentries...” Lance stared at the floor, his face full of hurt as he recalled his moment of error in battle that he was certain causing Pidge’s mood.

“...I didn’t see the last one come up and when I did he’d already blasted the control panel to shit.”

“It’s not your fault Lance, the mission couldn’t have gone smoother. We did what we set out to and that’s all we can focus on for now, let’s just give her some space to cool off and wait for the meeting to dole the rest out.”

The boys agreed and stayed in the common room for several more minutes talking about how weird Pidge was being before finally heading off to get cleaned up.

Pidge wished she could get washed up, but she had so much work left to do. She was typing away furiously as she produced line of code after code, determined to not let up before she was done.

Her legs pumped restlessly against the floor while she worked, her entire body practically vibrating with nervous energy.

She just needed to configure a base for her decryption software according to the firewalls in this particular ship’s files so she could finally let it run and—fuck.

The altean computer screen wavered and then sputtered as it began rebooting.

“Nononono, no, NO! You’ve got to be kidding me...”

She could throw up.

The processor had overheated before she could get the last few lines of code typed to initialize her software which meant when it cooled off she would have to start from the beginning and by then... by then there could be nothing left to decrypt.

Panic swelled in her chest, the heat spreading as quickly as it appeared.

This could have been what leads her to her father, to her brother. And if she failed she could be what breaks her family... for good.

She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the strain in her chest brought her out of her staring competition with the blaring red across the screen in front of her.

Inhaling sharply, she clutched her chest. The initial breath hurt and so she breathed again to see if it would hurt again, and it did.

Shit, why does it hurt? Slower. Breathe slower.

But she couldn’t. She took another. And then another. And then she was breathing so fast none of her heaves seemed to alleviate the tightness that wrapped around her lungs and crawled up into her throat.

“Aha, fuck.”

The panic came on so quickly it almost made her nauseous.

The harder she tried to return her breathing to normal the deeper she seemed to plunge. But she still had work to do. And she had to be cooled off for the meeting or Shiro wouldn’t let her return to her lab.

She needed to, in her own words, calm the fuck down.

She’d done it before, managed to bring herself down from this point. But that was with Lance by her side to gently guide her breathing to something steadier and with Shiro holding her so tightly it was hard to find a good enough reason to remain so tightly wound.

And she was just very rude to both of them so she couldn’t ask for their help after that. Pidge had never done it by herself before, but she would have to at least try to now.

So she closed her eyes and forced herself to take in a large enough breath so she could count her inhale, hold it, and then exhale, but even doing that had hurt and seemed to just make deepen the ache.

“No... why... why isn’t it... working?!”

Her chest felt too heavy to do it, too tight and she couldn’t seem to manage the counts without making it worse. Her lungs would tighten up and ache before she reached the end of the time she was supposed to hold her breath which caused her exhale to be several rapid inhales instead.

Oh god.

She pushed herself away from her desk, in the process pulling the keyboard out as well as knocking over a pile of electronics that fell to the floor with a clank that jarred her now insanely sensitive ears.

There was too much input. Too many things making it impossible to do this on her own.

She scrambled to shut the radio off, but her eyes were blurry with tears and she couldn’t find the correct buttons, increasing the volume and switching it to a station of static instead.

She let out a scream she didn’t know she was holding back as she sank to her knees, clamping hands over her ears to try and block out all the noise that was now overloading her senses.

It was like everything had been dialed to 10.

The whirring of the computer processor as it worked, the cool air being pushed into the room from a vent over her head, the steady beeps and ticks of several different machines and... and the door of the lab opening followed by footsteps.

“Pidge?”

Keith.

“Pidge, hey... what happened?”

His voice was so loud.

“What’s wro—“

“Shh,” she begged, voice barely a whisper over her ragged breathing.

“Okay, okay,” he placated as he closed the distance between them.

“I can be quieter... and maybe if I turn this off, how’s that? Better?”

She nodded, removing her hands from her ears once he’d gotten the radio off. She hadn’t noticed when she’d started shaking but her hands were trembling so badly she had to hold them to keep them remotely still.

“I’m gonna sit with you, is that okay? Alright, do you think you can tell me what’s happening right now?”

She thought about it for a second and concluded that even she didn’t know.

She’d had anxiety attacks before, Shiro had been the first to name it for what it was. They were mostly inattentive ones where she’d dissociate, sometimes she would get worked up and hyperventilate, but it was only ever fleeting, short, over in a couple minutes. And other than that she’d always had some sort of an answer to nearly everything anxiety related. Except now.

Because right now she did not know what was happening, only that even her own heart pumping was so loud it made her want to disappear into a blissful cloud of nothing. She didn’t like not knowing what this was and why she was feeling it, and that realization seemed to break what little progress she had made in containing it.

“Wait no, it’s okay, you’re okay!”

But she wasn’t. She was so far from okay.

“Pidge, you’re safe. You just need to breathe.”

She knew that already and she’s been trying, but the more she tried and failed the more she became aware that there was nothing she could do on her own to stop it.

“This happens to me too sometimes, I know it seems impossible but you can do it. We can do it together, yeah? Okay, I need you to take a really deep breath for me, I’ll go first.”

And he did. He inhaled audibly and urged her to follow. And she tried, but her chest hitched and she choked on the air she tried to bring in.

Keith wanted to soothe her and placed his hand on her arm but she jolted so violently at the touch that he tore his hand away as if he was afraid he’d burned her. She met him with desperate eyes, sincere with frustration and impatience.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m helping much.... do you want me to get someone else? Hunk? Or maybe—“

“Sh-Shiro or Lance, p-please...”

Her hands were in fists on her lap and they were beginning to go numb, a tingle spreading from her wrists up to her shoulders and a similar one moving up her legs. She hated when that happened.

She hated feeling so much emotion when her body felt so stuck, so not there. Because she was there and she was struggling and now was not the time to go ghost on herself.

“I can’t-I can’t stop it, I just want it... to stop.”

“This feeling isn’t permanent, it’s just your body reacting—it’ll stop,” he moved his hand from the floor to her knee and she flinched again but let it remain there.

“I’m going to be right back with someone, is that okay? You’ll be alone for only a minute...”

She nodded through a strangled sob. Her mouth was starting to go dry and so she didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Keith squeezed her bouncing knee before taking off in a dead sprint. Pidge surrendered to the heaviness of her eyelids and closed them for a moment as she vaguely wondered how he would describe the predicament to their friends and how exactly he’d realized something was awry at all, relishing in the prospect of focusing on something other than her own panic for a moment.

But the relief didn’t last long because when she pried her eyes open to see if someone, anyone was back yet, the world tilted.

She watched in horror as objects seemed to wane out of focus while others seem pulled into hyper detail, the floor stretching out in front of her in an unrelenting wave of movement, the little dots of static that you usually see when you blur your vision or just before you pass out were now moving so quickly she could cry. Correction: she was already crying, but she couldn’t stop full on hysterics now.

She didn’t know when she had scooted herself against the leg of the desk but was thankful for the support, thankful for something to remind her that she was on the ground, in her lab, in... space.

The way her chest contracted as her mind continued to do its own whirring, continued to think about all of the things she couldn’t possibly control but felt compelled to try to caused her a whole new type of distress.

It was too much.

She squirmed as she tried to get away from herself, from this feeling, throwing her head back hard enough to hurt as she wailed, but it didn’t because she couldn’t feel anything. It was like her entire body had shut off an entire sense and the others were thrown completely out of wack because of it.

And she didn’t know why she was crying exactly, there seemed to be too many reasons and not any all at once, but she gathered that it was one of those instances where now that she’d started it was going to be really hard to stop.

Those were really the only circumstances under which she cried, especially now that she was in space with a ship full of teenage-ish males and two very parent-like aliens, after going so long without crying at all only to lose it over absolutely nothing and somehow end up crying about everything.

But this was sort of different. Because she felt so much more wrong than just an overdue cry.

She didn’t have much more time to deliberate this because there were voices pulling her out of her daze. Shiro was knelt in front of her and Keith was back.

“There you are.”

Shiro moved one hand to her shoulder and she shrunk under it, her eyes wild and fearful as she could feel the weight of it, but nothing more.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” he said as he moved to sit beside her against the drawers of the desk.

“Keith said you were getting really overwhelmed, so I’m here if you want—oh!” Pidge had rushed forward to bury her head in Shiro’s chest and his arms closed around her securely.

“I’ve got you, i’ve got you...” he gushed as he held her trembling frame, the tears still flowing freely and her chest still struggling under the immense pressure that had built in it.

She tried to ignore how trapped she felt, yearning for the usual ease that his tight embrace brought instead of this suffocating strain. She felt another scream bubble at the back of her throat as she let the weight of his arms take her somewhere almost worse, somewhere she wasn’t just struggling to breathe anymore, but now felt like she had absolutely no air to even try.

“Pidge?! Hey, talk to me, where you at?”

She pulled away from Shiro, his voice piercing her ears like a small explosion. He immediately retracted and searched her face for an explanation but it was just filled with fear as she drew her knees up to her chest, clutched her hands over her ears and tried not to give into the sobs until she had enough air to support such heavy crying.

But it soon became blatantly clear that she couldn’t get enough air in when her face had gone slack and her sobs had all but stopped except for the croak of her tired throat as she desperately tried to pull in air, the strong arms around her releasing completely now, more hands finding her back and tapping her shoulder.

“Pidge, you need to take a breath, the air is there. You’re—damnit it, you’re going to pass out if you don’t try. Is Lance on his way over? Okay, can you go get water and a...”

The rest was lost on her as black continued to impede her vision, Shiro’s usually warm and calming voice now just as sharp as the sting in her lungs and cut with worry. Tears still flowed down her cheeks to meet under her chin and continue down her neck, but they came silently, the hollow rasp from her throat as she struggled through irregular and rapid breaths barely audible anymore. She almost wished that she would just pass out already, let her body’s self preservation instincts break the unbearable cycle of panic it tortured her with.

But Shiro wouldn’t let her, he was just about ready to administer rescue breaths with how pale she had gotten before Lance arrived.

“Shit, Pidge, what the hell? You usually do so well with the breathing excercise I showed you... but it’s okay, this happens.”

Lance settled himself next to Pidge on the other side of Shiro and began to work one of her fists open, her hand was now lax for the most part, so it wasn’t hard and did the same with the other before putting his hand on her back while the other corded through her hair.

“I’m going to stretch your arm out so you can— damnit you’re really tensed up, do you think you can relax your arm a bit?” He questioned tenderly as he began gently easing her arm away from her chest, holding her hand while rubbing at the clenched up muscles as they released their tension.

“Yeah, just like that... you’re doing so good,” he murmured as he took her shaking hand up to his chest and pressed her pliant fingers down. After a minute she looked around lazily, her body still racked with trembling sobs before soft fingers were tipping her chin to meet a warm smile mouthing ‘hey’.

Shiro watched in a mix of awe and confusion as Lance handled Pidge’s crisis, ignoring the hesitation in his eyes because his voice was so steady and his so hands sure that it didn’t matter that he didn’t know in the slightest of what he was doing. He was just being him, this was his nature, to be able to read someone so well and provide them with such tenderness.

“Want to try and listen to how I breathe?”

She parted her lips as if to speak but a particularly pointed sob prevented it, Lance seemed to get the point though and shifted his legs around.

“I’ll let you settle in and you tell me when you’re ready for me to return the hug...”

Lance tugged on her other sleeve and guided into a cautionary embrace, his touch light and his hands remaining on her arms as she found the spot on his chest where she could practically hear his heart moving against his ribs, but... not quite.

Everything sounded muffled now, like she was under water but wasn’t prepared to take a deep enough breath before being shoved beneath the surface.

Except she was comepltely aware that she wasn’t actually under water. Like it was all a cruel joke where she was tortured while she watched everyone else around her breathe easily. Her mind still able to rationalize that even though she felt like she was, she wasn’t actually dying.

But Lance wasn’t flaunting the fact that he could breathe, he was trying to remind her how she could too. He squeezed her arms each time her hands tightened around the material of his sweatshirt, reminding her that she should be thinking about how his chest was working, pushing all the other junk in her mind away for now.

“Feel how my voice carries when I talk... how controlled each breath is... think about what you can feel and hear and touch... they’re things you can perceive... things you can control, don’t focus on what you can’t...”

Okay, he’s right. I can do that. Try to do that.

She shuddered through a round of hitches in her sobbing and pressed her face further into Lance’s chest, not even having the mind to worry about how wet it was getting with her tears.

Think about what you can feel...

She could feel the thumping of his heart even if she wasn’t quite hearing it at that moment, her mind making up the difference and leading her to imagine the sound it must be making each time it does... and how the air being pushed out through his nose must be whistling... and how the constant reverberations must mean he was... humming.

But then it stopped as he took a big breath and let Pidge rise with his chest as it expanded, sure to let it out just as steadily.

Her chest seemed to loosen then, her body rushing to take in as much air as it could before the panic spiked again.

“I’m going to hug back now, you let me know if you—oh, okay, I’m here, Shiro’s here too. You’re okay,” he ran his hands through her hair and pressed her tightly to his chest, his legs coming up to plant his feet firmly on either side of her as he began slowly rocking them back and forth.

It felt nice. He moved them carefully, slow enough that she could have been asleep in his arms and she wouldn’t have been disturbed, but also so securely that her mind couldn’t disappear the presence of his hands bracing her back and circling through her hair.

But the lull didn’t last long.

It wasn’t his fault, this is just how it went. When she got bad like this, the panic came and went in waves. If her body still had nervous energy left, it didn’t matter how much she managed to calm down, she would have to start from square one until there was nothing left in her to continue.

No!

Shiro was just as surprised as Lance when her voice cracked, the soothing sounds she was murmuring to herself as she worked her breaths closer and closer to normal broken by a wail.

Fuck!

Fuck you, fuck this, fuck—everything.

“-dge? Pidge?!”

“We’re still here, you’re still alright.”

“Give me a sec... there ya go, better?”

He’d turned her around so that her back was against his stomach and then held his hand up in front of her to show her before he closed it and lowered it to her chest, she knew what he was going to do and melted into him further as he began to rub gentle but firm circles over her sternum.

“Ahh... ahah, f-fuck,” she sobbed beneath him, she shuddered under the touch, her hands searching for something else, anything else to ground her and stumbling upon Shiro’s on one side and her thigh on the other.

She squeezed tight on both as she fought desperately not to slip again, feeling the way her body wanted to become light again.

Nope, we are just not doing that shit again.

She was so mentally done with this, but her body seemed to be losing energy too. She could feel it tiring, losing the warewithal to continue its draining overreaction. Turns out not having rested at all after their mission just to drop like this was a blessing in way, she was scared of how long she’d have been able to go if she wasn’t already worn out.

She forced her eyes shut and focused on Lance’s fingers, his knuckles pressing hard, but not hard enough to hurt. She’d almost wish he was. The rhythmic motion was heavenly because she couldnt ignore it as he kept the pressure there above her heart.

She gasped when she started coming back to herself, feeling the sudden shift when she seemed to be given the reigns back on her own breathing, sucking in huge gulps when she finally could control it.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good... listen to how I do it.”

Shiro was massaging the residual tremors out of her hand as he held it, the additional release of tension aiding in grounding her further.

She was faintly aware of the lab door opening but was too focused on not losing her pace, her breaths still manual and unsteady but a hell of a lot better than before.

“Oh...” it was Keith, he sounded worried.

She was confused for a moment before a hand was on her thigh.

“Hey,” Lance’s hand was at her wrist now. “Oh Pidge, don’t-don’t do that.”

Keith was trying to lift her fingers up but stopped when he saw that pearls of blood were starting to form beneath them and didn’t want his struggle with her to make it worse.

“Crap.”

“Pidge let—Pidge you gotta let go.”

The hurt in Lance’s voice stung. She wasn’t even aware she’d been doing that, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the iron grip, this peace was so tenuous and she couldn’t afford fucking it up.

When she didn’t respond Lance exchanged a knowing look with Keith who moved his hand under the palm of hers before both boys wrenched her hand up, surpressing how sharply he breathed when he saw the trail of red with sheaths of skin uprooted and purple crescents dotted about.

They sort of just stared, lost for a second, neither of them quite sure how to proceed.

“I got it,” Shiro offered as he took the offending hand from them, Pidge’s gaze still somewhere else.

There was a moment of silence before anyone talked or moved again.

“Pidge, hey. Keith brought water for when you feel up to it.”

Keith was kneeling next to them now, pouring cold water onto a rag and wringing it out before showing it to Lance.

“He’s got something cold to put on your face, maybe over your eyes? They must hurt...”

She blinked absently, silent tears making their way down her cheeks.

“This should help, ready?”

It took a second but she finally nodded and then the rag was descending on her swollen and bloodshot eyes. She jumped at first but he continued and once it was fully laid on it was bliss. The coolness calmed the angry puffiness and the pressure kept new tears from falling.

“I’m... gonna put something on your leg. It might sting, but it’s also cold so it’ll feel nice,” Keith said wiping up the small drops of blood that escaped the scratch wounds before pressing whatever it was down on top for a beat.

They weren’t bleeding much, the skin torn literally just enough to bleed. She also couldn’t really feel it, the area just felt numb and stiff. She hadn’t meant to draw blood, she just needed something that felt real to bring her back.

A spark of shame lit deep in her gut as realization dawned on her, she had hurt herself. Sure it was subconscious, but she still did, literally with Lance and Shiro right there trying to help. But she pushed those thoughts away.

She was far from perfectly fine, still working through the after shocks and residual anxiousness that followed. She sort of felt sick to her stomach and couldn’t stop swaying her leg back and forth as she lay against Lance, his grip as tight as ever, with Shiro still caging her unsteady hands in his.

Keith had gotten a blanket at some point to drape over her and kept removing the rag to re wet it with the cold water that she didn’t quite trust herself to drink yet.

“How ya feeling?” Lance murmured into her hair.

She hummed in response.

“Gonna take that as better, right?”

She nodded and then grimaced when Keith took the rag away once more and opened her eyes only to realize how much pressure had built behind them.

“What’s up?” Shiro asked when he noticed her face twisting up.

“My head hurts.”

“Hm, Coran has some sort of aspirin equivalent somewhere and... you could lie down, try going to sleep until dinner—oh! Hunk is making your favorite, he figured everyone needs a good meal after today.”

“Sounds nice,” she almost slurred, her head snuggling into the crook of Lance’s arm. She still shook as if she were cold, even with the blanket.

The three of them discussed something for several minutes but she tuned the conversation out, too busy relishing in how she could breathe again, only a small part of her worried about relapsing back into hysteria as the waves of panic returned smaller and smaller.

“Pidge? You awake?” Lance asked, trying not to eat her hair.

“Soooo, we were thinking of having dinner in the common room tonight, we think you should eat something before you turn in and we don’t want you to be alone just yet, also so you can be snuggled at all times... what do ya think?”

She smiled and scrunched her nose up with and enthusiastic ‘sure’.

“How bout I give you a lift?” Shiro smirked fondly as he squatted down and motioned for her to hop on his back.

They all had a good laugh at that, Keith and Lance joking about how they’ll never receive the same star treatment.

“I think it’s safe to say the meeting is rescheduled for the morning, sorry Lance!”

“Whateverrrr! The things I do for you, Pidge,” he laughed as they settled in on the couch, Hunk almost suffocating her when he was done serving their meal.

“I’m never letting go, I hope you are aware of that.”

“Not complaining, just... can I have my arm back? Thanks.”

“What was even on the drive—“

“We do not speak of... of that, Princess.”

“Pidge can run her diagnostics again before tomorrow’s meeting and then after that she’s on an electronic hiatus. Also everyone’s going to their rooms at curfew from now on, no exceptions. You people are humans and you need sleep!”

“But Shiro!”

“At curfew? Like at exactly curfew?”

“Yes Keith.”

“Space...“

“Lance. Lance, do not say it.”

“✨Space dad✨ has entered the chat.”

[shuuenmei]

we were two- reflect

TWST OC Week Day 4: Mirror

BEFORE WE BEGIN:

This is connected to “We were two-Prelude”.

For a TLDR of “We were two-Prelude”, the canon MC existed together with Yuu (Rei) and their presence is connected to how Yuu (Rei) got to Twisted Wonderland.

A colored version of this piece will be posted on a later date.

Due to length, the piece is placed under the cut.

Here we go!

“You know, I’m rather jealous of you.”

The reflection in front of her spoke. The teenager with raven hair spoke.

Their meeting is only possible through this dimensional rift.

The teen’s circumstances are a separate matter from her own, her lone connection being that the teen’s soul imprinted on her while their actual body lies dormant, sleeping among the many coffins in the Hall of Mirrors.

“What brought this on?” She wondered.

“Honestly, I went through the same experience as you do, from the entrance ceremony, the overblots, the daily lives with my new friends… everything. And even then, I was too blind to notice what’s going on behind my back, too afraid and too weak to consider seeking answers for myself until it’s too late.”

Their lips curve to a mirthless smile. “I didn’t have the same willpower or bravery as you do to question what is happening around me until it’s too late. I didn’t have the courage or initiative to find a way to defend myself without depending on my friends either. I’m just… me. A regular teen who wound up in a whole other world and blindly followed what I’ve been told to, like a sheep in a herd.”

Pausing to take a breath, they soon continue. “My ignorance and blindness kept me from noticing that I should’ve tried to stop Grim from eating those black rocks that did him more harm than good, and it prevented me from realizing that the Headmaster had his own plans so I’m under his complete mercy when I finally realize what is going on. And my weakness and lack of initiative costs everybody, and even then, I had to sacrifice them for Grim.”

“...You know, I don’t care about Grim as much as you do.” She interjected.

“I have my own priorities, and I was far more interested in finding out about what role I had in the centerpiece of the scheme that the Headmaster is likely playing at when I noticed it, and just because we experience the same thing, doesn’t mean that we had the same backgrounds.”

“I know, and I was told of it.”

“...By the one that imprinted your soul on me?”

“The very same.” They nodded and continued, looking down to the ground (Or what constitutes as a ground in this dimensional rift). “A life where society always seems to put you down no matter what you do, your trust in people that should’ve helped you lost, your relationship with people who once supported you strained… That person also showed me that I had other counterparts, each with their own motivations that are different from mine… and it made me feel small in comparison since unlike all of you, I’m just… average. Just a regular kid thrown into another world without a clue to what’s going on.”

She stayed quiet, listening to them speak before she gave the teen her piece.

“Just because I did differently from you, doesn’t mean that the things you do are completely worthless or irrelevant.”

The teen looked up to her. She gave no heed as she continued.

“Just because you and I do different things doesn’t mean we’re any less irrelevant. We may have different relationships with those we met along the way, but it doesn’t turn or make it any less worthless. Grim and Tsunotaro still care about you, and so does Ace and Deuce back in your world.”

She stepped forward, closing in the distance and held the teen by their shoulder. “No matter what we do, the fact that we’ve become an irreplaceable presence to the people we met doesn’t change. Even if our relationships are different.”

“...But you’re still going to sacrifice Grim, right?”

She pursed her lips, slowly nodding.

“My relationship with Grim is different than the one with yours. I may accept him as someone under my care, but ultimately, I don’t depend on his company all the time, and he still needs more growing to do. And he wouldn’t be getting what he wanted out of me.”

She lifted her hands from them.

“Once upon a time, my mentor and uncle told me that it’s often a better choice to end them first than to take the slim chance of saving them, since saving them and granting them peace may prolong their suffering instead, so I believe that he’d be better off given a swift end.”

“...And I can’t accept that.” They confessed.

“...I know.”

She learned enough about how much the teen cherished Grim and how they are willing to sacrifice the people of Twisted Wonderland, their new friends in this strange world.

Because to them, Grim’s the only one who would care about them the most, because they’re partners, two in one.

The same can’t be said to herself, who sees Grim as his own individual, separate from herself.

And completely independent from needing him, with a life and groups of her own. Away from Grim.

Regardless, she still offered. “But we can make a compromise, if you’re willing to hear that.”

________________________________________________________________

“Morning Yuu-san! Ace-kun! Deuce-kun!”

Without turning back, she returned his greeting. “Morning Epel.”

Ace yawned as he said his greetings as Deuce smiled.

“Morning Epel.”

Epel noticed the drowsy white cat on her shoulder and greeted. “Morning Shiro-san.”

The cat familiar gave a drowsy purr in greeting.

“He’s a lot sleepier than usual today.” She told him.

Epel nodded.

As they walked together, a teen, accompanied by a familiar gray furred cat-monster with blue flames adorning his ears resting on their shoulder zoomed past the group.

“Fnaaahhh, we’re getting late!”

“I know Grim!”

‘Isn’t there still time for homeroom?’ She mused inwardly before she turned back to see the figure.

She saw Grim and the teen. The original Yuu who was meant to be here, now renaming themselves as “Ray”, running ahead with two unfamiliar students waiting for the duo.

“Come on Ray!” They beckoned the teen as they started running forward, their figures fade in the distance.

She stared at them for a moment.

“Yuu-san? What’s wrong?”

She turned, shaking her head at Epel. “Nothing.”

She looked ahead, joining her friends. Suggesting, “By the way, what do you think of a group cafe outing after school today? That new cafe that opened downtown was pretty good.”

“Sure Yuu-san! I should call Jack-Kun about it!”

“I’m gonna get our class E duo later.”

“That leaves me getting Kasper then.”

“So you guys are leaving Shiro and I to get Sebek?”

“Hey, you’re the only one who can convince him to join our hangouts easily and make him tolerate coffee some more.”

“Not funny Ace.”

She made her decision to choose her friends, and by extension, the people of Twisted Wonderland.

They chose to stay for Grim.

The friendships they made may have changed in some ways, but they made their choice.

Like a mirror, they are the same, but not.

[changingourdestiny]

Guardian Games Part 1: A Secret Weapon

Summary:

A two-part special.

The Guardian Games have arrived! Determined to make up for the Hunters’ defeat last year, Blaze, Crow, and Marcia are all set for this year’s events. But after Marcia shares news about Cayde having a secret weapon for this year, the three Hunters can’t help but be curious as to what the wildcard Vanguard has in store...

Next Part: Here

It was a crisp early spring morning in the Last City. Despite the early hour, the Tower was bustling with Guardians, all excited for this year’s Guardian Games. Some were having friendly debates with their Fireteammates as to which class would win this year, some were grabbing bounties from the vendors to prepare for the events, Tess was busy handing out this year’s ornaments and armour for the games. On the platform overlooking the courtyard, Blaze was doing crunches on a railing with Crow counting beside her (but really, he was making sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself), “98. 99. 100-” “What are you up to now?” Blaze paused her workout as Marcia approached the two Hunters. “Hey, Marcia!” Blaze greeted as she pulled herself up with help from Crow, “Just getting ready for the games. Hunters are gonna win this year for sure!” “Usually, I stay out of Tower stuff. But after last year’s humiliation,” Marcia smirked, “I’m in.” “Aw, yeah!” Blaze cheered as Crow chuckled, “With that amount of energy, Eva might need extra material for the Hunter banner.” “That reminds me, did Cayde tell you about his ‘secret weapon’?” Marcia asked. “No. He has a secret weapon?” Blaze seemed utterly confused at the statement. “Yeah. He said it’s been in the works since January and he’s gonna unveil it today. Every Hunter I’ve asked has no clue. Hell, even Shiro has no idea. Thought you two might know.” A sharp whistle from down below interrupted the conversation. “Hey, you three! Get down here, it’s go time!” Cayde yelled as the Vanguard alongside other Guardians stepped onto the podium to begin the opening ceremony. “Well, looks like we’re about to find out.” Blaze shrugged as she made her way towards the stairs. Marcia shot a glance at Crow and she could’ve sworn she saw the Kinderguardian smirk.

Cayde, Marcia, Blaze and Crow joined the others on the podium. Zavala was talking to Eva about the games while Adam and Saladin were being blasted by Shaxx giving a motivational speech. As they stepped onto the platform, they were approached by Ikora and Osiris. “Have any of you seen Rae?” Ikora asked. “I thought she’d be with you. Is she on the Helm?” Blaze asked. “No, I just came back from there.” Osiris replied. “This is very strange. It’s not like Rae to miss an event like this.” Ikora muttered. “Maybe she got caught up with a meeting with the Stranger.” Marcia suggested. “No, her ship was in the hangar this morning.” Crow added. “I’m sure she’ll show up soon.” Cayde shrugged, “Let’s get this show on the road!” The exo excitedly trotted up to the Hunter banner. “Cayde’s not even concerned? Something’s definitely up…” Blaze muttered as everyone took their places on the podium. Eva took the mic and began to speak, “Welcome everyone to this year’s Guardian Games. It’s wonderful to see so many Guardians excited to take part.” As Eva continued her opening speech, Blaze felt Marcia nudge her elbow. Blaze glanced at Marcia who motioned over to Cayde with her head. Beside him was a masked Hunter than neither of them recognised. “Who is that…?” Blaze whispered. “No clue. A Kinderguardian maybe?” Marcia replied in a hushed tone. “Why would-?” The two were interrupted by Saladin giving Blaze a nudge and signalling for them to be quiet. “With all that said,” Eva smiled, coming to the end of her speech, “Let the Guardian Games begin!” The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. But before they could disperse, Eva handed the microphone to Cayde. “Before you go!” Cayde began, “If I could have your attention for a brief moment.” The Guardians looked at each other with confused expressions as Cayde continued, “So a few months back, I had a bet with someone. I know, I know. ‘Cayde making bets? Big surprise!’ But basically, it was over a Hunter vs another class match and whichever side won, the other Guardian had to switch teams for the Guardian Games.” A few interested and curious murmurs began to surface amongst the crowd. Marcia noticed Crow’s smirk was a bit bigger now as Cayde continued, “And as you can see, I’m still in my glorious Hunter gear so I won. And this mysterious stranger here was the loser.” The masked Hunter took a few steps forward until they were beside Cayde. “Who wants to see who it is?” Cayde asked, followed by a massive cheer from the crowd. “Wait. Don’t tell me it’s…” Ikora began but before she could finish her sentence, the Hunter removed their helmet. When they did, the crowd went crazy.

There stood, in full customised Hunter gear, was Rae Drakyx.

“What?!” Blaze exclaimed with a shocked smile while Marcia laughed while clapping her hands, “Cayde, you mad lad!” “This cannot be happening.” Ikora was a mixture of shock and impressed while Zavala was floored. “You’re joking!” Adam placed his hands on his head while giving a terrified laugh while Saladin and Osiris seemed just as shocked. Rae spun around, showing off her armour. It had the same colour palette as her Warlock robes. The cloak was blue with a purple rim and the Warlock symbol at the end. She wore boots that matched her jacket and a piece of fabric on the front that bore the Hunter and the Stasis symbol along with a leather pouch strapped to her right leg. “So, for the last few months,” Cayde continued, “Rae has been training in secret to be a Hunter fit for the Guardian Games. Only one other person was in on it: a training partner who was also undergoing Hunter training. Ain’t that right, Crow?” Blaze’s head whipped towards Crow who gave a small bow. “You knew?!” Blaze was gobsmacked. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep this a secret for the last few months.” Crow chuckled, “I thought Ikora or Zavala would find out for sure.” “With that said, Rae? Any words?” Cayde handed Rae the mic. She gently tapped the mic before speaking into it, “Warlocks, I hope you’ll forgive me one day…but go Team Hunter!” The Hunters in the crowd began cheering like crazy as Rae handed the mic back to Eva. “Well with that unexpected surprise,” Eva laughed, “Let the games begin!”

As the crowd excitedly dispersed to begin racking up points for their teams, Ikora, Adam and Zavala approached the group of Hunters. “I won’t lie, I’m impressed Cayde.” Ikora began, “More so surprised you were able to keep this a secret for so long.” “Have a little more faith, Ikora.” Cayde replied, “It was easy to keep this one on the down-low.”

“Not true. He kept talking about how eager he was to brag about how he got Rae onto Team Hunter.” Crow smirked.

“H-hey! Whose side are you on?!”

“So, we have the Warlocks having it out for the Hunters, the Hunters getting revenge on the Titans, and the Titans defending their title.” Zavala mused, a small smile on his face, “This year’s games will definitely be interesting.”

“That in mind, don’t think the Hunters have a leg up because Rae’s on your side.” Adam folded his arms with a grin, “The Titans are still gonna crash through you and win this!”

“Ha! In your dreams, Adam!” Blaze beamed, “This year, the Titan banner will be so low, you’ll have to be in the sewers of the city to see it.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” Ikora smirked, “Cayde’s stunt has given my Warlocks more of a reason to win: to avenge Rae. They won’t back down to either class.”

“It’s on!”

“Chaos Crew!”

“Wha…?” Marcia glanced at Blaze. “Cayde’s Chaos Crew! It’s the Fireteam name I made up for our group.”

“I…

LOVE IT!

” Cayde exclaimed. “Oh Traveller, what have I gotten myself into...?” Rae shook her head with a smile. “Take it like a Hunter.” Crow chuckled.

“MARCIA!!”

Everyone spun around to see a herd of Guardians surrounding something with a lone Drifter hand waving above them, “Cayde’s got ‘em a lil’ TOO eager to bet this year! A lil’ help?!”

Marcia turned to Cayde while pointing at the herd, “You did this.”

Cayde just gave an innocent shrug as Marcia let out a sigh. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up!” Marcia then began making her way over to the chaos surrounding Drifter, “Alright, you punks, in a line! Don’t make me turn y’all into popsicles!”

“I’m Drifter! I like gettin’ in over my head and getting’ others to bail me out!” Ghost popped up beside Rae who giggled at his impression. “Dude, I cannot get over your Drifter impression. It’s so convincing!” Blaze laughed. “Thank you! I take pride in it.” Ghost replied with a happy wiggle. Cayde turned to Rae, “Crucible, m’lady?”

“Don’t mind if I do. Last one to the hangar buys ramen for the team!” Rae grinned.

“Wouldn’t that make Marcia the one buying?” Crow asked.

“Exactly! Now let’s go!”

To Be Continued…

[palidinus]

🥀💘💗💌💕

🥀 - a ship you would never do?

as said over on my keith’s blog (see the answer here), i don’t have any real squicks, but i will note that shiro’s age is a big factor in who i am willing to ship with him and who i’m not, as is his gender preference.

shiro is gay. he is attracted to non-binary/gender non-conforming people, but he heavily prefers only masculine lined folks or masculine presenting folks, so anyone who lines themselves with the word “woman” or “she/her’ pronouns only are apt to be turned away. 

looks don’t matter to him— your muse doesn’t have to “pass” for him to consider them. pidge is a prime example of this; he’s very firm about his admiration for people who own who they are.

in addition, i want to point out that in regards to shance, it would be very difficult for me to write it out without proper age on lance’s part and vast character development.

shiro is not overly fond of lance.

💘 - what is your muse like in ships?

“i’m sorry, i just can’t help loving you like i do.”

i’m sorry is something your muse would pathologically have to endure hearing a lot. 

shiro has martyr, inferiority, and guilt complexes, all rooted to various parts of his trauma, upbringing, and stay wrt the galaxy garrison. 

he has a dramatic flair, is a masculine person, and generally speaking, his wounds influence all of his interpersonal relationships because, like keith, he’s closed off— for different reasons, no matter how similar they are.

he is a complex individual despite staff’s joke that he’s your cookie cutter version of a protagonist (goku from db/dbz, naruto from naruto, ichigo from bleach, setsuna f. seiei from gundam 00 - though he’s a bit more like keith- lol you likely know what i mean by ‘generalized protagonist trope’ when i say it). 

shiro’s brand of self-sabotage is saying “yes” when he means “no”, feeling victimized when things go exactly the direction you think they would as a result of that, feeling lonely because “no one understands him” by extension, and more.

however, shiro is one of the most loving, giving, selfless people there are.

he loves wholly and unconditionally.

your muse would likely enjoy being lavished with gifts, affection, poetry, being serenaded, all of that romantic, lovey dovey stuff we too often take for granted.

if your muse ends up with him, they are lucky, and hopefully, they will cherish him as he nurtures their soul!

💗 - do you have a gender preference when shipping?

oocly? i am bisexual, so no, i don’t have any squicks or oppositions wrt gender. it’s entirely dependent on my muse’s preference. i realize this is a copy/pasted version of the same question that was asked on keith’s blog, but it has a twist to it, since shiro’s gay. 

i’m considerate of canon divergent aus, but i would rather not breach shiro’s preference as a character entirely just for the sake of a ship. i hope that’s understandable!

💌 - would your muse write a love letter?

yes. a thousand times yes. all that and more.

💕 - how affectionate is your muse?

almost overly, lol, just. he’s not very big on pda... he has his own boundaries, just like anyone else! 

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Komelle Week 2019

Prompts by @shiroallura

Day One: Altean / Galra

The Galaxy couldn’t believe it. The Universe barely believed it. In the wake of the Galra empire’s fall, a wedding between a Galra paladin of Voltron and an Altean was the last thing anyone could have predicted.

It’s a simple ceremony, attended by friends and family. But they’re both simple people. A small house in the middle of the wilderness suit them both fine.

He has little knowledge of Galra heritage, being raised on earth his whole life. Even his history with the Blades of Marmora is clinical and professional, so he never quite fit in with either.

She has little knowledge of Earth, being raised in an Altean colony and her new husband’s only contact with such people is a century out of date at least.

But that’s okay.

There’s no judging in their home. No need to prove themselves or fit in.

She is her.

He is him.

That is all they need from each other.

That should be all the universe needs of them, too.

Day Two: Markings / Scars

 She kisses every scar that crisscrosses his body like cracks the desert ground. He runs his hands down each of the markings that run like rivers down her’s.

The markings on her cheeks glow with pleasure when he kisses them and the peace on his face when she kisses the scar on the left side of his face is pure serenity.

Day Three: Flight / Gravity

The flight back home from their honeymoon (an odd phrase, she muses, when they went to neither a moon nor partook of honey) is nearly interrupted when their ship stalls mid-flight, hit by an asteroid. Their artificial gravity stalls and they float through the air. She suggests they call his brother, Shiro, for a tow.

Day Four: Quintessence

She feels it growing inside her. An egg. A tiny meld of life energies brought together by the emotions and connection of two beings. She asks Allura, her queen, about human/Altean births and what to expect.

Allura smiles and shakes her head, telling her she doesn’t know. And that’s both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Day Five: Lost / Found

He can’t find Bandor anywhere! He took his eyes off of him for two minutes to keep Kosmo from chewing up the couch and when he comes back his son is gone!

He calls his mother, the other paladins, the Blades, he’s going crazy with worry.

It’s not until Romelle comes home to find he’s torn up the house that he checks the baby monitor (on her suggestion) and finds that Bandy has been asleep in his crib this whole time.

Day Six: Trust / Betrayal

It feels like a betrayal of trust when they find out what had happened on that last mission. Keith had been captured and there had been a time when he had been unconscious.

The people who had captured him had milked him! For eugenics!

It looks like him, but a Galra version of him.

Regret paints his face, shame colors his apology, and he says he understands if she wants to leave him.

She kisses him.

They name the baby Akira, after Keith’s father.

Day Seven: Home

Bandor is twenty now, sneaking glances at Princess Junera and enrolled in the Galaxy Garrison as Lance’s best student. Akira is seventeen, non-binary, and trying to get a vintage auto shop off the ground.

Keith is working to turn the Blades of Marmora into a relief organization. His mother was currently staying at their house to make sure Romelle isn’t lonely.

Voltron was long gone, the Lions flying off to parts unknown.

The other paladins had found new destinies, new routes to fulfillment and happiness.

And so had she.

She would begin looking for work soon.

Maybe she would be a teacher, working with children. There were many Altean children who needed to know happened to Altea and how the people had come back from the brink.

But the truth she knew, as her husband embraced her, was that this was home.

Her mother in law embraced them both from behind and Kosmo was leaping onto them and licking all their faces.

This was home.

[ladyemberswrites]

"A Touch Is All I Ask"

-

Summary: Basically, an Au of Au wherein an accident Lotor ends up traveling through the rift only for him to met and fall in love with Allura from another reality, but because life refuses to give him a break the rift creatures destroy both that Allura and her reality along with her leaving Lotor to travel the rift for centuries trying to find his way back home. Fortunately, he ends of being saved the Princess Allura from his reality. Which makes things all the more awkward as Lotor has to force himself to differentiate between this Allura and the Allura he had loved. The plot only thickens once Allura starts to develop feelings for him as she nurses him back to health.

Rating: T and Up

Words: 2k

Chapters: 1/?

-

He had lost everything in a single fleeting moment. A breath, a heartbeat, and soon nothingness consumed him. It ate away at the flesh and the bone, and pierced his dreaded, cold heart. His fingers reached for nothing, tiny cosmos, stars that have already long passed, and they bleed through his fingers. His fingers, these hands that have done nothing but bring about horrors, that only bring about destruction. Perhaps they were right, he is a curse. A blight on the world, a filthy obstruction. He felt the world around him drown, his body as heavy as lead and as weightless as a cloud. In space-time is obsolete. His mind and memories fragmented, and the voices that haunt him whisper in his ears in continual repeat.

The rift is relentless, a cruel, twisted mistress. An abomination, an unknown horror and they like a siren singing sailors to their deaths upon the steep rocks sing to him too as he wanders, and he drifts to nowhere. Howling, and lulling sweet tunes that fill the silence of his travels where there is nowhere and no one, and as the presumed days go by they fill the aching silence. He‘s long tuned them out-but-

~Lotor~ their eyes are amber like hers. Their hair a dark silver like hers had once been. Though, he had never heard her voice, he assumes that must have been what she sounded like. But, he knows that they aren’t his mother. Their image of her is picture perfect, not a single detail missed, but he knows. He’s no fool. He knows their games he knows their lies. They hiss when he pays the cheap imitation no mind, growling, and sneering.

~How dare you!~ they screech in union, a kaleidoscope of dissonant voices. His ears run red when the shrieking refuses to come to an end, but again he disregards them and simply keeps going, he keeps moving because he does not know when to give up. Because death is too easy, no matter how tempting it is to just collapse and sleep an endless dream. But, dreams offer him no repute, no reprieve instead they are nothing more than a reflection-a mirror world-a gateway to his own insanity. There is no peace. So, he must walk even though there is nothing.

~ 

“That's absolutely disgusting, Lance!” Pidge grimaces, her nose wrinkles as she spat out her tongue.

“Yeah, well, try actually being there and seeing it in person" he leans into her, his shoulder, bony and sharp, cuts into her side "let me tell ya, that changes a man" 

“Just because you experienced it, doesn't mean I want to hear it” Pidge mutters into her palm "and can't you sit on your side of the ship?" she shoves him.

He brushes aside her last comment making himself comfortable “I thought we were friends, Pidge? Besides you who else do I have in this big lonely castle?" 

"Why can't you bother, Hunk for a change" the girl surfs her screens in boredom.

"I would, but he's been too busy with his new girl-friend" he emphasizes his point by making quotation marks with his fingers "to hang out anymore-I mean whatever happened to the bro-code!?" 

Pidge rolls her eyes "so, what? He can become a lonely, desperate misogynist, womanizing jerkhole?"

"I prefer the term lover man, Pidge" 

"I think you missed the entire point of that statement..nevermind-the point being is that there are other men on the ship you could socialize with" 

"I rather get stabbed in the spleen again than hang out with Keith out of my own volition" 

"I wasn't talking about, Keith." 

"Shiro's way too serious to do anything fun with. It's all Lance stop. Lance your drinking way too much. Lance you can't spike people's drinks. Shiro's awesome and all, but he doesn't have a single fun bone in his body" 

"I don't think perpetuating liver damage is something I would personally consider fun" 

"It's not about the drinks, the drinks are just secondary, where there's alcohol there's hot women, come on get with the program Pidge"

"Shiro's gay" 

"I was gonna hook him up" 

"With a dude?" She rose a dry brow. 

"Of course a dude, unless he goes both ways, I can get him both" 

"...Y'know it's a wonder why your single?"

"Is that sarcasm?" 

"What about Coran" she dodges the question " he's a guy"

"Coran's fun-until he goes overboard. Y'know like the time he nearly killed us"

"That was your own fault y'know"

"How was I supposed to know pot would drive him into a murderous rampage-" The hiss and beep of the bridge door interrupts him. Hunched and bleary eyed, Allura wanders onboard in a complete daze, her heels clicking against the paneled walkway. Her characteristic bun hung lopsidedly off the side of her head, her ends frazzled and uncombed. Her eyes sunken with dark bruises and her favorite white jacket hangs haphazardly off her one shoulder.

Lance whistled “Boy, you look awful, Princess-or is that a new look your aiming for” 

Allura snaps her head towards him with lethal speed,  barely restraining the urge to strangle him 

“I’m far too tired to deal with your nonsense this morning, so please do shut up unless you’d like be placed on toilet duty again” 

The threat hangs in the air for a few minutes before Lance snorts, brushing her off awhile tugging at the hem of his turtleneck sweater in a nervous bout “Y-yeah, but no thanks, Princess, I've cleaned enough toilets and vomit to last me a lifetime" 

Allura didn’t bother to comment but casts him one last warning glare before turning back to the teleduv, reaching out she taps it lightly bringing the ship's screens to life. The skies were all clear except for a bach of asteroids floating in the distance, but to her relief so far no enemy ships or anything remotely suspicious, as they travel the cosmos to Planet Greta off hidden on another less known side of the galaxy.

Even so, she didn't wish to take any chances and made sure to double check her assessment, while ignoring Pidge and Lance's continued conversation  Bits and pieces dribble into the forefront of her thoughts here and there, but there's nothing she can make sense of being that the topic relates back to Earth. 

Her checks repeat nothing new-Sighing, she cuts the feed to rub her face in annoyance. Everything hurt. Her body aches in a way that's more aggravating than truly painful. But, sleep has been hard to come by lately, the moment she closes her eyes-the nightmares began again. Her father’s blood upon her hands, splattered upon the blue silk of her gown, the sight of his mangled corpse lying at Zarkon’s iron boots. His face darkened, indistinguishable from the other bodies that littered the marble floors-

 She clenches her fingers listlessly fearing that if she didn’t pay attention she’d find his blood on them again.  Her skin burned, having spent the night trying to scrub the red away. Now, they just itch, the skin of her hands rubbed raw and dry. And yet, there's that lingering feeling of wetness  that she just can't shake, despite knowing that it isn't there. Yet, she kept scratching her wrist as she stared out over the bridge watching nothing but stars pass them by.

“Lura?” she didn’t hear Pidge pace up to her. She turns in the girl's direction “you okay there? You’ve got that dead look in your eyes again?” 

“I’m fine, Pidge. Don’t worry” she wonders if her voice always sounded hoarse, or is it just her, and she’s hearing things again. Whatever the case she just shakes her head attempting to ignore it. That and the throbbing headache that pounds at the back of her skull.

“If you say so….” Pidge didn't  know what else to say or do other than offer the woman her space, and awkwardly returns to her seat.

"What's her problem?" Lance whispers.

"....I don't know. She looks sick-"

"She's not going to pass out again is she because-"

Perhaps, it’s time to give up and ask Doctor Alibhe for some sleep aid? Her nose wrinkles at the prospect, but what else can she do. She's tried everything: training until she's exhausted to the bone. Meditation only abandons her to her own traitorous thoughts which only leads to exasperation and a wish to lobotomize herself. So, no that was a no go. She's tried tea, acupuncture, oil massage. Worse case scenario, well, partially out of desperation a chiropractor who only charged her an exuberant amount of money and a nasty crick in her neck that took weeks to go away. Trial or error aside, she can't continue like this; people will notice, people are already noticing, if it keeps going the questions will never end. Pressing a fist to her brow, she huffs-if only the night didn't dreg up past horrors-

*Ping*

*Ping* 

Her temples throb, cracking her eyes back open Allura finds herself thrown from her musings back to reality. The pinging of the teleduv continues causing her to pause and blink for a moment flicking the scanners back on.

"What?” out of bloody nowhere something pops up upon the monitors signaling a disturbance in the area. Brows tightly pinched together, she didn't see any ships-

“Enemy ship?” Lance asks in a brief moment of seriousness. Both his and Pidge's eyes dart from her to the screens above, bracing themselves for impact.

“It’s-" she squints "no” she shakes her head 

“whatever it is-it’s far too small to be a ship-it’s-oh, 

no” her heart plummets to the pit of her stomach. 

“Oh, no what?” 

“It’s another rift opening….” 

“Well,  that's just flipping fantastic!” Lance barks “More rift creatures! Is it bad that I rather deal with Sendak, heck even Zarkon himself any day over dealing with those walking-talking living embodiments of nightmare fuel!” 

Allura swallows dryly. A lovely start to already dreary day-oh, stars, she's not sure how much more she can take of this insanity.

~ 

“Maybe we’ve been blessed by the Altean space gods!” Lance cries to the heavens “because I don’t see a single thing or y’know I'm not vomiting up my own entrails”

“Not if you don’t jinx us” Keith snaps. As quickly as it had come the rift had immediately snapped shut. Yet, no creatures of the rift made it out through the small opening. No horrifying illusions or imagery, just nothing. Just dead-end silence that did little to comfort her as she stares out among the stars and the blackness of space.

In their rush they took their respective lions on ahead with Allura placing Head Commander Hira at the helm and with the ship on high alert. When nothing assaulted them, Shiro suggested they take a look around by hand. Jetpacks loaded with full and pistols set on lethal everyone disembarked only to greeted by nothing. 

Allura worries her bottom lip out of nervousness, she’s only glad that she hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast or else she would have vomited in her own helmet. Holding her pistol close, she prepares herself for anything by as the minutes trickle on by, besides the cluster of  asteroids, nothing bizarre happens. An hour of searching and checking and rechecking the area's clear of any  potential danger.

“I’m starting to think it was a false alarm, Princess” Keith calls out to her. 

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Nada , zilch” Hunk tapped his scanner “besides the glitchy connection, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary” 

“Me neither” Pidge mutters “it’s all just empty space as far as the eye can see.” 

“Same here” Shiro adds, perplexed.

“Same with my end” Matt floats back to them “looked all over those asteroids over there, but like Hunk said zilch. Nada.” 

“Perhaps, something was trying to get out, but couldn’t” Hunk states with an uneasy hitch in his voice. 

It isn't unlikely, and it's probably the case, too. Though that does beg the question-if something were trying to claw its way out the rift what stopped it? Allura isn’t sure if she wants to find out.

“Hunk’s probably right” Allura agrees quietly, holstering her pistol “we should probably head back to the Lions. Oxygen's running low.” They weren't that far from the castle ship, but it's still a pretty good distance even with the lions.

"About time! This place gives me the creeps" 

"Second that-"

“...more like it was a waste of time…” everyone moves on ahead of her as she can't help but linger, taking one more glance over her shoulder she scans her surroundings. It's times like these that remind her how vast the galaxy is. Enormous and all consuming like a sea with no bottom, no end. Left could right, and right, left. Shoving down the existential dread, she moves to to turn and head back until a twinkling light catches the corner of her eye. Stopping, she swivels back to look again-this time the twinkling is hard to miss, she squints, it isn't a star, as the source of the glittering is a top an asteroid closest to her. With bated breath she slowly, carefully maneuvers herself over to it. It's rocky texture is rough, the cold seeping through her gloves. With a grunt she heaves herself upwards, her thoughts oddly quiet as she focuses on climbing and hauling her weight until she reaches the top. Heaving enough to cloud the glass of her helmet, she stills to inhale a deep breath before she decides to lift her head up and freezes-

A massive body is collapsed upon the mountainous structure.

It-can't be-

Galra?

Hesitantly, she crawls towards him on all fours both curiosity and fear churning in her gut. Carefully, she reached over to quickly tap his shoulder to snap it away fearing a swipe of his large hand. Or a lunge. Squeezing her eyes shut she expects the worst, but when nothing came she instead hears a low, pained groan.So, low that if it weren't for her being so close she probably wouldn't have heard him. Placing a hand to calm her erratic heart, Allura steadies herself before gently extending both her hands to flip him on to his back, however it isn't without some difficulty. He's super heavy. With a grunt she manages and once he's on his back she's met with a rather gorgeous face, but unfortunately one she did not recognize. Examining his body, his armor is old. Eroded with rust and dented all over with the color of it faded. His face as handsome as it is, is marred with bruises painted black and dark blue, and dried blood dribbles down his obviously split lip. Yet, strangely enough she didn't find anything indicating his rank. No badge or medallion, no even a family crest holding his cape together. There's a satchel hung around his waist, but it wouldn't be wise to open it out here. He definitely looks the part of a high ranking galra general, but that begs the question, if he is, what is a seemingly distinguished general doing out here in the middle of an asteroid field? Did someone dump him out here?

Frantically her eyes dart around- but, she was so sure she hadn't detected a galra ship in the area-

Breathing heavily, she only finds emptiness. 

-unless-

Her eyes fall back to him-the rift.  Her eyes widen as she eyed him closer now noticing the markings on his face, a telltale sign of quintessence exposure. They weren't too bad, but it isn't something that can be ignored without consequence. Frightened out of her mind, she shouts back to her team over her shoulder.

 “I found something!” drawing all eyes to her. I've definitely found something; she whispers to herself.

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Shklance Series 6 -- Try

Sorry, guys, this one is super long. I’m working on my dialogue, really trying to get my own personal style down. I think this is closer to what I want, but I write differently when it’s not fanfiction, and I’m still bouncing between fanfics and my own personal projects, so it’s taking some adjusting. Anyway, there’s going to be another chapter after this one, but I was already at 1600 words, which is huge for me, so I had to break it up. Anyway, part 6 to the Shklance series. Hope you enjoy. 

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              So they thought that they had it in the bag. Maybe that’s where they had really gone wrong, Shiro mused thoughtfully. It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment things had started to maybe fall apart, however. It had been maybe a month since he, Keith, and Lance had begun dating.

 For the first week or so, things went wonderfully. They spent hours with each other, learning more about each other and figuring out how they work together. Their dates were full of laughter, and fun, and – Shiro’s and Keith’s personal favorite – kisses. But then, Keith had gone out of town all week for a music performance and Shiro had found himself drowning in homework. Lance knew they were both stressed, and so he took it upon himself to try and cheer them up.

His first attack strategy was to call Keith daily to talk to him and find out how things were going in Florida for his performance. He thought Keith maybe sounded off the first couple of times he called, but he didn’t think anything of it until the third day he called.

“Hey, baby!” Lance wanted to sound anything but happy, but he forced himself to take on a chipper tone. He was lonely, he was tired, and he was disappointed with how his day had gone. He really wished he could just curl up on the couch with Keith and Shiro and binge watch mindless TV shows. “How’s Florida? How’re rehearsals and all the performances going? Are you having fun?”

“Lance,” Lance could hear the sigh on the other side of the phone, “I’m really not in the mood, so could you just leave me alone tonight?”

“You’re not up to talking? Um. Okay that’s, that’s fine. I uh, I just had something I needed to tell you really fast.” Lance tried desperately to work his way through his hurt and embarrassment. He knew Keith would be upset if Lance didn’t tell him about being jumped by Sendak’s crew, but he also knew that he was stupid to think that Keith would really want to hear from him. He’d already bothered him twice while he was gone, damn it! Of course, he would be sick of him…

“Look, Lance, I’m really, really not in the mood. Let’s just talk later, okay?”

Lance bit his lip, “But I—”

“Lance! I’m serious, okay! It’s been a long day, I’m exhausted, I haven’t slept in two days, we have practice first thing in the morning, I still have homework to keep up with while I’m out here in this stupid state in the stupid heat and I’m not. In. The. Mood!” The phone beeped, signaling the end of the call.

              Keith had hung up on him.

              Despite himself, Lance felt tears well up. He hadn’t meant to piss his boyfriend off. He just… Damn he hurt. So much. He curled up on himself, as best he could with bruised ribs and cuts across his shoulders and chest. Moving hurt. Knowing he had upset Keith further hurt. Knowing Keith was hurt, hurt. Knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to help, besides never bother him again, hurt. But then he remembered Shiro. If Keith didn’t want to know about Lance’s injuries, then fine. Whatever. He still needed to tell Shiro.

              But first. Lance needed to peel himself off the floor.

                Lance groaned, limping painfully down the corridor to where Shiro’s and Keith’s apartment was. They all stayed in the same dorms, but Keith and Shiro were lucky enough to be roommates, while Lance was down in the hall. His roommate had dropped out of class earlier in the term, so at least he had his own room, but Lance didn’t do so well with isolation. Made it easier to slip into depressive episodes.

              He stared at their door, trying to drudge up enough courage to knock. Keith’s words were still ringing in his head, but Lance forced himself to knock, pushing the door open when he was met with silence.

              The room was a disaster zone. Lance would have thought that with Keith being out of town, Shiro would’ve had the apartment a lot neater than it usually was, but instead textbooks and papers were sprawled all over their dining table. There were energy drink cans throughout, along with several pencils and highlighters. Shiro was chewing on one, fingers typing quickly at his laptop, slowing only long enough to gulp down mouthfuls of Red Bull.

              “Uh, Shiro?” Lance ventured.

              Shiro startled, swearing when his drink sloshed and threatened to fall onto the papers he was referring to. Lance winced, barely refraining from taking a step back automatically. He felt his side twinge painfully.

              “Lance. What?”

              “Um. I just. Wanted to see how you are doing? Haven’t. Uh, haven’t seen you in a while…” Lance trailed off when Shiro gave him a deadpan look, pointedly looking at the mess all around him. “Well, I mean, I just uh, okay, well I needed to talk to you, and I don’t know if you’ve talked to Keith at all today, but, well, anyway, I needed to tell you that I—”

              Shiro sighed. “Look, Lance, I already talked to Keith. He’s fine, doing great, having fun. Now if you don’t mind, I’m a little busy here. Three of my professors thought it was okay to assign major papers the same week, and the other two are preparing us for tests next week. I really need to get back to this, okay?” And then without even giving Lance another look – which was a shame because if he had he would’ve noticed the way Lance had gone pale – Shiro turned back to his laptop, fingers returning their frantic typing.

              “Oh.” And damn it but Lance hated how small his voice sounded. “Yeah. That’s. That’s fine. Got it. I’ll. I’ll leave you alone now. Sorry,” Lance found himself whispering the last word as he slowly backed out of the apartment.

              He barely managed to make it back to his room, legs trembling with the effort – he really should’ve taken a closer look at the bruises on his thighs – and slid down the wall, hunching over his knees, shielding his head, hiding his tears. His stomach and chest protested, his legs didn’t want to support the position either, but he was so done. He was an idiot for thinking that their relationship would last forever. Sure, it had been nice while it lasted, but it had to fall apart eventually, right?            

              Whatever. He was used to taking care of himself. He could do it again.

              Still, after he finished clumsily dressing and bandaging his own injuries, Lance downed a pint of ice cream and then hid under his covers, where he remained all the next day.

                Now, it was the last day before Keith came back to them. Shiro was overjoyed to find that this last week was almost over. It had been a hellish week, but he knew that once Keith was back with them, things would be perfect again. He couldn’t wait to snuggle under a mountain of blankets for a movie marathon with both of his favorite boys. But of course, things couldn’t be quite that simple.

              Shiro had had to go by himself to pick up Keith. Both he and Lance had been there to drop him off, but when he had texted Lance to ask if he wanted to come, too, the kid hadn’t responded at all. Which was unusual, but Shiro knew that Lance usually had class around that time, so he hadn’t thought too much of it. It wasn’t until Keith all but hurled himself through the crowd, desperately seeking out Lance and himself, that Shiro realized there might be more to it.

              “Shiro, where is he? Where’s Lance?!”

              “Calm down, Keith,” Shiro grasped Keith’s shoulders, trying to calm him down, “he’s fine. He just has class.”

              “Shiro, no, you don’t get it! Shit, have you talked to him at all?” Shiro paused, withdrawing momentarily before responding.

              “…no. But I’m sure he’s fine. We’ll go check on him now, all right?”

              “Shiro!” Hell, was Keith about to start crying? “I messed up, I ruined it, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it! And you had your essays and everything and you were super stressed so I couldn’t bother you and Lance wasn’t answering his phone anymore and, and. I just. I’m sorry.”

              Now seriously alarmed, Shiro tugged Keith into his arms. Keith went willingly, tucking his face into Shiro’s neck to hide the fact that he was openly sobbing at this point. Shiro rubbed his hands up and down Keith’s back, his sides, gently cradled the back of his head, whispering soft words the whole while. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. We can talk about it on our way back home.”

              It turned out not only had Keith snapped at Lance, when Lance apparently had something he needed to tell him, but that ten minutes after, when Keith had realized exactly what he had done and attempted to call him back in a panic, Lance hadn’t picked up. Nor had he responded to any of the texts Keith had sent, or the next 6 phone calls.

              Instead, Keith had gotten a text from Lotor, a kid in a few of their classes who was rumored to be the actual leader of Sendak’s group, though no one had managed to prove that yet. All the text read was ‘Would have thought Little Boy Blue would’ve been harder to break with you and The Champion protecting him. I’m almost disappointed to see I was wrong.’ And okay, yeah, now Shiro was worried. What had happened to their Lance?

[smolstrawberrychara]

Klance Au Month - Day 1 - Coffee Shops

This was not supposed to be so long. And I can in no way guarantee I will do prompts everyday, but I definitely want to do some! (rip my other fics)

Lance from Astro:

Keith gets soaked when he goes out for a run in the rain so hits up a coffee shop for shelter. Here he finds a boy claiming to know him and a barista who wants nothing more than for him, and his dripping wet self, to leave. When Keith realises he has no money, the stranger steps in...

Also available on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626292

Keith had always been impulsive. As a kid that meant punching the little shit who decided to steal his crayon. As a teenager, it was skipping classes when there was something far more interesting happening across town. And as a student, it was going out as soon as he even glimpsed the sun’s rays peeking out between the sheets of grey cloud. Yeah, Keith had calmed down a lot in his old age. Or maybe he’d just learnt to deal with the frequently irritating occurrences of daily life better. That’s what Shiro would say, patting Keith on the back whilst wearing that well-practiced big brother smile that said ‘I’m proud of you,’ that Keith read as ‘please punch me’.

Shiro had introduced Keith to running. At the time, Keith hadn’t been to class in three weeks. Just moped about the house all day like a lonely vampire. But the sun had been shining and Shiro along with it. He’d dragged Keith off the couch and shoved him into some running shoes. Five years later, here Keith was, shorts on, headphones in, hair up. And the sun was shining gloriously for a cool February morning.

That was, when he left.

Now it was pouring like they’d suffered a monthlong a draught. They hadn’t. It had been raining on and off for two weeks now, and every day had been more miserable than the first. So, when Keith spotted the golden rays in the morning, you’d think he’d realise that it would be brief. That objects in motion, stay in motion. Nope. Keith ran out all guns blazing. And now, he was currently dripping wet as if he’d dived into the deep end of the pool, clothes and all.

His feet squelched in his trainers, and every foot fall blasted muddy water up his calves. His skin was covered in a thin membrane of sweat, rain and dirt and his clothes chafed with every slight movement. He huffed down the path, river on his right, houses on his left. He was exactly halfway around his usual route and this seemed to only encourage the storm, wind picking up and sweeping cold tendrils between the now permanent creases off his shirt.

Panting along the path, he finally got out onto the concrete of the quay. Usually it was bustling with tourists and locals alike. Boats lined the canal, rusted tractors lay abandoned above them, kids rolled around the grass and parents yelled at them to keep away from the edge. One day, Keith hoped to see one fall in. Trying not to laugh at the thought, he powered into the main hub. Outdoor seating lay around untouched, shop doors were pulled shut against yellow light and not a soul was in sight on the roads. Keith was weaving around bollards, slowing his pace to avoid slipping on the cobbles, when something caught his eye.

A door swung shut, light bouncing off the shining window. Just beyond, a figure hugged a trench coat tight to their body and slipped away into the silver stripes. Keith looked at the building. It was a modest one, coloured a pale blue with flaking paint and flower boxes full of drooping flowers. White plastic chairs were propped forward against similar tables, water collecting in pools across the surface. The window was steamed up, and the streaks warping the glass were painted with licks of orange from the indoor lights. It looked warm, and the rush of air from the door had the smell of coffee winding up Keith’s nose like smoke. Maybe he could afford to wait out the rain inside?

Keith swung into the café and was immediately assaulted with heat. He shivered on instinct, dragging his feet against the welcome mat as he looked around the room. It was small. White tables and colourful chairs cluttered the space. The counter was painted bright turquoise and held large glass domes filled with pretty pastry’s and delicate cakes. Beyond it was a loud machine, standing sturdy like a bodyguard and squirting out drinks with high-pitched screeches and hisses. Lining the window was a honey coloured table, with tall metal stools standing bright red against it. Keith made a beeline for them, swiping a hand across his face and shaking out his hair. Removing his head phones, he dropped them down on the bench and dug his phone out of his soaked shorts. That can’t have been good for it.

“Sir, you’re dripping.”

Keith jumped at being addressed. Behind him, a thin man glared at him with piercing eyes. Blond hair was sleeked back against his head so tightly that Keith could see every undulation of his scalp. Undulation being a bit of an overstatement to say it was more like his head was perfectly round and there were precisely zero dips in which to undulate with. Everything about him was startling perfect now Keith thought about it. Well-kept nails, creaseless uniform, apron free of any kind of stain.

“Oh, I, uh…” Keith looked down to find a puddle forming. Oops?

The man made a noise. All nose and disregard. Keith watched him raise a single, well-plucked eyebrow before leaving. Keith shuddered. Maybe this was the wrong place to dry off?

He placed his phone on the table and grabbed a few napkins from a pot nearby. Drying off as best he could he sat down.

“Keith?”

He turned to the voice. Behind him, on one of the small square tables, was a boy. He had curly brown hair stuffed under a wooly hat, tanned skin stretched over pointy features and curious blue eyes that narrowed their way towards Keith. Leaning forward, he tilted his head at Keith and pursed his lips. Then they were suddenly splitting into a wide curve and Keith realised it was his turn to speak. He instinctively opened his mouth, waiting to say a name, but it never arrived. He realised too late he had no idea who this person was. He clapped his mouth shut again, dread filling his stomach. The boy seemed about Keith’s age, and did know his name. All evidence pointed to them being at least passing acquaintances. But Keith couldn’t place him anywhere. So, he did the normal thing and just stared.

“It’s me, Lance.” The boy said, raising his eyebrows. Keith continued to stare.

“From astro?”

Astro? Astronomy? Keith took the astronomy module. It was his favourite in fact. He loved stars and the mysterious objects space tried to hide from Earth. He never missed a class. And this person? He took it too? Keith brought the lecture theatre up to the forefront of his mind. Keith liked to sit at the front, near the edge - no-one to block his view and easy to make a quick exit. People rarely sat near him, and to be fair, people rarely turned up to lectures these days. How was Keith supposed to recall him?

“I’m in your tutorial class.”

Ah. The vision changed to a small classroom, whiteboard at the front with a permanent dent in the middle that gathered various conspiracy theories. The course leader, a shrewd rat-like woman with thin rimmed glasses, stood at the front writing equations. There was the guy who only showed up the first day and never again. The girl who always did her make-up before the start – oddly, without a mirror. The two guys who always arrived late. That first day when one of them turned and introduced himself to Keith. Oh. The blob cleared into what resembled a human before it blurred together with reality. Lance. From astro.

“There.” The guy sighed, “nice of you to remember me.”

Keith shrugged. He was beyond politeness these days. It’s not like they’d spoken more than that one time on the first day. Why would Keith remember him? Just as he settled himself back in his seat, Lance was talking again.

“How come you were out running in this?”

Keith let out a growl, “well it wasn’t like this when I left.”

The boy snickered behind him and Keith found himself turning toward the noise despite himself. Lance’s nose was wrinkled with the effort, eyes crinkling at the sides as he hid it in the table.

“Fair.” He said, “guess some of us would check the forecast first though.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “like you can’t just look out the window.”

The words were more for himself than anyone else, he wasn’t planning on starting a conversation, hadn’t planned to see anyone he knew. So, he was already looking back at the rain dripping down the glass when Lance snorted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mused when Keith regarded him again. He shook his head, trying to hide his smile behind a hand, “you’re just- not what I expected.”

“Excuse me?”

Expected? What was Lance doing getting expectations of him? They just met.

“No, no! I didn’t mean, like not in a bad way. I just…”

He bit his lip, face the faintest tint of red. Keith found it irritating. People always made some kind of assumption when they met him. He used to play to it – if people thought he was a bad kid then he was going to be a bad kid. He remembered Shiro’s sigh, the lines in his brow that were verging on permanent, the sadness in his voice when he said ‘why is this the one thing you won’t rebel against?’ It stuck with Keith. It was such a strange thing to say. Keith always misbehaved. He refused to be told how to be - where to sit in the dinner hall, how to dress properly to impress foster parents, when to smile even when you didn’t mean it. He rebelled against everything.

And that’s when he realised what Shiro meant. People were always telling him he was no good. They didn’t even know him, and yet he was labelled a ‘difficult’ child. Not a kid for ‘first timers’. He would struggle through school, make trouble in the workplace and never amount to anything. But that wasn’t true. Keith was smart. He believed in rules – when they were fair. And he knew that smiling didn’t make you okay, just fooled other people into thinking you were. Shiro made a damn good point. Keith was just toeing the line. So, he quit lying. And

did what he wanted. Like a true rebel, he went to class, studied hard, smiled at Shiro’s lame jokes and let the words of others run off his back like water.

But above all, he refused to acknowledge anyone who paid him, or anyone else, that treatment. Which now meant Lance. He turned to the window.

“I meant I thought you were smart!”

And now he thought Keith was dumb?

“No wait! That didn’t come out right! I meant…”

Lance sounded kind of desperate. Shame. Keith wasn’t going to turn around. He sighed, flicking a menu over on the table.

“Sorry.”

It was the tiniest noise. More like a whimper. It didn’t really match the rest of their conversation. Keith dared a glance back. Lance was frowning down at his notebook, eyebrows in a furrow like he was cursing the thing. That was different. No-one ever used to apologise. Well, they never meant it. They never looked that upset about it, like it hurt them to hurt someone else. Keith opened his mouth to speak.

“You gonna order anything?”

Keith glanced up to find smooth head looming. He looked as if Keith was a grave inconvenience, a stain on his perfect coffee-shop world.

“If you don’t order anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Keith breathed through the irritation, squeezing his hands into fists. The waiter had a fair point, but he didn’t have to make it with such disdain. Keith was still a customer, he just hadn’t bought anything yet.

“Alright,” Keith mumbled, stepping up to reach into his back pocket. His hand slid against his ass, and then straight down to his thigh. Crap. These were his running shorts. He had no money.

Keith looked at the waiter. The waiter looked at Keith. Keith looked at the window. The rain threw itself against the glass like it was going to attack him. He shuddered.

“I’ll buy.”

Keith spun around. Lance was leaning against the back of his chair, fixing the waiter with a face dripping with raw, smug energy. His card sat between two slender fingers and he twirled it in the air.

The waiter sighed, clearly uncaring for the whole ordeal. Keith on the other hand, was still in shock.

“No, no, it’s alright.” He said firmly, gathering up his few belongings, “I’ll just go.”

“No.” Lance interrupted, “I’ll buy.”

His eyes were resolute, daring Keith to argue. Keith took the bait.

“No. I don’t want to owe you.”

“And you won’t.” Lance said lightly, following the waiter to the counter. “It’s an apology, for speaking with my foot in my mouth.”

He stopped to look up at the chalk board. Drinks were written in curly white lettering, with pastel coloured sketches drawn next to them.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please.”

Fingers clicked across the till.

“With marshmallows and cream?” The clerk asked in a bored voice.

Lance turned to face Keith then, elbows leaning back on the counter. He poured his gaze over Keith, right from his head down to his toes. Keith felt exposed, stomach swooping at the glint in Lance’s eye. Too busy fighting the heat spreading through his body, he didn’t get the chance to interrupt when Lance was speaking again.

“Oh yeah. Add extra sprinkles too, I want it extra festive.”

Keith let his mouth fall slack. Where the hell did he get that idea from? For one, Keith drank coffee. Black. And he didn’t do all the fancy stuff. He wanted a plain and simple drink and he did not want to draw attention. Lance on the other hand, drew all of Keith’s. He had a huge grin plastered across his face as he threw his head back laughing. Round-head rolled his eyes, dialling up the order and sparing Lance one of his disdainful glares.

“I’ll bring it to your table.”

“Thanks, Lotor!”

Then Lance was flouncing back to his seat and Keith was still standing next to his own chair. What had just happened?

“You didn’t need to apologise.” Keith rushed. Lance looked up at him, blankly. Then a smirk pulled against his lip.

“So, you already forgave me?”

“No?”

Had Keith forgiven him? He couldn’t really remember what he was apologising for now. The whole… event, had him a little bit lost.

“So, then you’ll need a drink.” Lance said solemnly.

“No, wait.”

Lance grinned. Keith struggled. With this conversation, with this person, this whole situation.

“Take a seat, Keith.”

The chair opposite Lance moved out on his own, like a ghost. Keith approached with caution. He did not sit, but Lance shifted when he arrived, that same grin plastered on his thin lips.

“Come on, sit with me.” He crowed, swaying side to side.

Keith eyed the seat cautiously.

“Look, I really didn’t mean to offend you.”

He was looking down at his book again, pen drawing absent circles in the margin of his work.

“I was hoping we could be friends.”

Keith sighed. He shouldn’t sit down, shouldn’t be indulging in this. But despite that fact, Keith flopped down. Lance perked up then, shoulders bouncing. But before he could speak, Keith interrupted him “I get it. You didn’t mean to offend me. But I still can’t accept your drink.”

Lance considered this for a second. “Okay. How about, in exchange for the drink, you help me with my astro coursework?”

He tapped his pen against his notebook and Keith saw that there was also a textbook lying open above it. There were several papers strewn across the table and pens hiding between layers. Lance himself had pen marks all over his fingers and grey loops below his eyes.

“Fine.”

That was enough for another one of those blinding grins. Lance seemed abundant with them.

“So, how come you recognised me?” Keith asked, wanting a distraction from the radiance.

Lance gave a little wiggle and Keith could tell he’d stepped on a landmine. With eyebrows bouncing he sent Keith a mischievous grin, ‘oh, I never forget a good-looking face.”

Keith nearly choked. Was he being flirted with right now? By a strange boy who shone too brightly for a coffee shop? A strange boy he in fact knew and had somehow missed in the however many weeks they’d been studying that course?

“Clearly I do.”

Lance’s brows froze in their strange hooks and Keith realised with striking alarm that he’d said that out loud. Oh god. Keith really was too well adjusted to life alone. Maybe he should listen to Shiro more and make some friends? Lance’s face was still frozen on his and Keith pulled at his shirt. Curse the heating in this place. He really shouldn’t have sat down. He glanced back to the window. Was rain really that bad?

“Hot chocolate.”

Keith jolted as a cup and saucer landed on the table with a loud clink.  Liquid swished out the side as the tidal wave settled, swirl of cream sloshing above. A light dusting of cocoa covered the top, pink marshmallows cut into the shape of hearts thrown haphazardly across the drink. The waiter levelled them with a look.

“With extra festive.”

“Thank you so very much.” Lance said through a giggle. The waiter rolled his eyes, sweeping back to his post at the counter. Keith stared at the drink. Then he stared back up at Lance. The boy was just sparkling eyes above two hands that covered his entire face all the way up to his spiky nose. Keith shook his head fighting off a smirk. He picked up the drink, lifted it to his lips and stared right into Lance’s glistening eyes as he took a sip.

Lance snorted.

“Perfectly matches your aesthetic.”

Keith shrugged, now losing the fight against his lips. “I dunno, I think it’s a bit understated.”

“You’re right.’ Lance said, poking his pen into Keith’s face, ‘it’s just not enough. Shall I call Lotor back and get him to bring us some glitter.”

Keith shook his head. “I’m thinking sparklers.”

Lance burst out laughing. He was all teeth and no eyes and Keith found the noise buzzing in his chest too. He quickly swigged his drink before it could be set free. The taste wasn’t bad either, if he was being honest. Sweet and creamy, tickling his lip as he drank. He was quite content until, one of the marshmallows rolled off and hit him in the eye. Keith frowned, glanced up and saw Lance pretending to read his textbook whilst barely containing more giggles. Keith shook his head but couldn’t shake the warmth in his cheeks.

“So, I’m confused on Quasars.”

Keith frowned, putting down his drink.

“Who isn’t?” He said, shuffling around to get a look at what Lance was reading. After a moment of no more words, Keith looked up and found Lance staring.

“What?”

“Oh!” Lance whipped back around to his book, “It’s just, uh, it’s nice.”

“What?”

“Hearing you say that.”

“What, ‘who isn’t’?”

Lance nodded, still not meeting Keith’s eye.

“Yeah. Guess I thought I was the only one.”

Keith didn’t tend to speak to the people in his class. That’s how he didn’t know Lance. He just kept to himself. But that meant he was privy to his course mate’s conversations. Namely, that nearly every topic they’d covered since the start of term had at least somebody complaining. To Keith, it was a given that absolutely no-one truly knew what they were doing on their degree.

Lance wasn’t Keith though. Lance didn’t just talk to strangers, he went out of his way to make friends with them. Those kinds of people always eluded Keith. Shiro was the same – he took in Keith, and from their first meeting, Keith had been convinced he was some kind of next level angel. But whilst Shiro was adept at caring for others, Keith discovered over time he struggled letting other people look after him. It was something Keith hadn’t had much of an issue with – once someone was actually willing to do it, he liked being looked after. But not everyone was Keith. And just because they weren’t Keith, that didn’t make them perfect. Or evil. And with the words Lance just spoke, it occurred to Keith, that he might have misjudged him. The thought made his stomach twist in a guilt he immediately wanted to fix it.  

“Trust me you’re not.” He said firmly. “Everyone struggles, you’re doing fine.”

Lance looked up at him then, lips parted as his pen fell to the paper in a dull thud. Keith immediately wanted to claw the words back. He should have thought more before speaking. They were far more intense out loud. Almost threateningly so. Keith scraped the barrel for some sort of distraction. Steer them away from his creepy intenseness. “Why-uh, why’d you think that?”

Lance’s stare held a second longer – a second that burned itself straight through Keith. Then he was reclaiming his pen and speaking again with a sigh, “my housemates. They just- they get it all, y’know? One lecture and they’re good to go.”

“I feel dead after half an hour.” Keith said honestly.

There were those who seemed to absorb everything, regurgitating hours later and sweeping through their exams. But Keith was not one of them. And even then, he had a suspicion he only saw what they wanted him to see – not the hours they studied the night before. Maybe even years– some people were that dedicated after all.

Lance let out a short laugh. ‘Me too. Alfor opens his mouth and I’m just dead.”

Keith snickered and soon they were discussing the ins and outs of all their lecturers. It was fun. Keith found talking to Shiro about his disdain for academics was like bouncing water balloons off a concrete wall. He was never impressed. Lance, on the other hand, became invested. His enthusiasm grew with his pitch, hands thrown around in fury as he recalled a particularly awful lecture that wouldn’t have been out of place playing in the back of a hearse. Keith had said as much and Lance had laughed so hard, he spat coffee everywhere. The waiter, Lotor, as Lance called him, was far from enthusiastic about their patronage. He wiped up the spill with a huff, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. As soon as he was gone, Lance fell apart laughing telling Keith about the time he put glue in Lotor’s hair at primary school and the other was yet to forgive him. Lance had zero regrets and Keith would probably commit the same crime now.

The more they talked the more Keith found himself watching Lance’s mouth. He noticed now, how animated it was. It could go from a small ‘o’ to a wide-open grin in a blink of an eye. His teeth were bright white, lined up like crooked little houses along his gums. Then there were his lips. They were pink and looked soft and every so often Lance ran his tongue along them. Keith wanted to do that too. The thought surprised him, and he quickly found somewhere else to look. He could blame the warm café for his reddening cheeks.

Keith hadn’t kept track of time, he hadn’t felt the need when he was happily filling the moment. That was until he heard the door chime and noticed they were the last guests in the café. Must have been a long moment.

Lotor appeared at Lance’s back, a looming vampire.

“Five minute ‘til closing.” He said curtly. Lance jumped at the proximity.

“Jesus,” he breathed, holding a hand to his heart, “does he even have footsteps?”

Keith shook his head, looking out the window. “Wheels for feet.”

Lance laughed beside him. It was a nice sound, loud without even trying. It was like it burst out from nowhere to set the room alight. The more Keith heard it, the more he wanted to hear it. He was stuck in a vicious cycle that he didn’t particularly want to leave.

“Which way you heading?” Lance asked, shuffling his belongings together. The rain was still trailing down the windows and the wind rattled the windows, demanding its next victim. Keith sighed, as he got to his feet.

“Penny Road.”

“Oh! I’m just by the roundabout!’

Maybe he didn’t have to leave quite yet?

“I, uh…” Lance continued, talking to the ground. He was rubbing his neck, now fully dressed in his navy blue rain coat and backpack swung over one shoulder. “I’ve got an umbrella.”

He looked up with a smile. A bashful one this time, with pink cheeks. Keith didn’t know what to make of it. The expression was so different to his previous ones. It made him want to lean forward and squish it. But that would be inappropriate, so Keith focused firmly on the words

“Good for you?”

Lance blinked at him, before a more familiar expression tucked himself against his cheeks, “I meant we could share it.”

“Oh.” Keith’s cheeks burned hotter than coals. He ducked his head before it could be seen and stepped towards the door. “Sure. I’d uh, I’d like that.”

Lance’s feet tapped along the wood until he was at his side again, grabbing a brightly coloured umbrella from the bucket by the door before swooshing it open. Keith grimaced as he was hit with cold air and icy blades.

“Might be a bit windy for that.”

Lance laughed, “nah, it’ll be fine when we’re away from the river.”

Lance was right. It was fine once they were walking along the streets lined with painted town houses. Keith couldn’t help noticing how snugly the two of them fitted beneath the bright fabric dome. He also couldn’t help noticing his urge to link his arm with Lance’s. He told himself it was to just to keep the heavy umbrella steady but that was a lie.

Not too much later they arrived at Keith’s door, startling red against the black and whites of the rest of the street. Keith felt a little smug about bagging this one. It was the best house, even with the cracks in its cobble stone path and the overgrown bushes lining the street and most of the garden. The rain had died down a little, pattering rhythmically against the umbrella like a tent and Keith lingered beside Lance. The peaks of the clouds above were dyed a deep orange where the sun was finally cutting through the grey as if giving its last cry of the day before it sunk down for bed.

“Well, this was a nice way to end a date.”

Keith felt his stomach jump, throwing the breath from his lungs. “Date?”

“Uhh, I mean…” Lance’s face was so bright it was matching Keith’s door. He blinked widely before looking at the ground and mouthing many words but saying very few. “It doesn’t have to be, I just uhh, I thought it would be nice, but I mean-“

“Well, in that case...”

Keith leant in close, right up to Lance’s freckles. He pressed a kiss to a flaming cheek, smiling at how it was warm like a mug of hot chocolate.

“See you in class.” He whispered, before peeking up at Lance’s face. It was red with fluster, blue eyes wide and gleaming as his mouth wobbled into something that resembled a smile. Keith returned the favour, before pulling the umbrella down and letting the rain ping off it. “Lance.”

[lotidge]

Lotidge Playlist

Fickken Finally right guys? Did one of these for Shidge, so its only right that I do one for Lotidge!

- mod potential

1. If You Leave Me Now - Charlie Puth ft. Boyz II Men

He’s been hurt worse. He’s suffered wounds dealt to him by bigger and stronger opponents. But her? Lotor couldn’t even bear to label her as such. Even when she killed him like this.

2. Fire Meet Gasoline - Sia

That was the problem, Shiro mused. They were too much alike. They hurt the same way. Fought and killed similarly to. And when they met? On opposite sides of the war? How could their attraction not result in chaos?

3. Infected - Sidekick

It was their game. Catch him, catch her. Outsmart her, outsmart him. Over and over, such was the nature of this dangerous play of their’s. And Lotor relished the chase. Fangs flashing and claws sharpened. He loved it. And, deny it as she might, so did Pidge.

4. Morning Doves - Mikky Ekko

He was right there. Bleeding, weak, and defeated. It’d only take one shot, only one, and everything would be over. This war, this power struggle. All of it would be finished with a single mercy kill. But could Pidge bear to do it? When he looked at her, bleeding and broken and begging for it? I think you know the answer.

5. Take What I Can Get - Matthew Mayfield

There were moments when he was genuine. Where he was soft and boyish, and not at all this picture perfect Prince. Moments where he just sat back and relaxed, silver-white hair blowing all around him like ribbons. Moments where he simply laughed while sprinkling birdseed onto the ground. Naturally he never knew that Pidge had been witness to those moments, but she treasured them all the same.

6. Beautiful Girl - Broken Iris

In the void, Lotor knew only pain. Drawn-out, torturous pain. Pain that played with him. Chewed him up and spit him out. Even agony seemed unwilling to accept him. And whose form this this pain decide to take? Not Allura, she had all but died to him. No. It was someone different. Someone who had always been in the corner of his eye, and never fully in front of him. Someone with shining cold eyes and curling amber hair. Someone beautiful. Someone cruel.

7. Dark In My Imagination - of Verona

She knew that she should stop thinking about it. But Pidge couldn’t help it. He haunted her. She was losing even more of what little sleep she had. Lotor seemed to circle around her at night. She just...felt him. Hands cupping her neck from behind, claws cold and slicing against the soft skin. Velvety breath next to ear as he gasped her name like a tease. Gentle, silken tickles of his bright hair against her shoulder he leaned over and...Pidge shuddered. Willing her imagination to stop.

8. Hymn - Kesha

He had to wonder, would things have turned out different? If he had met her Voltron sooner? Would he have made the right choices then? The right friends? The right lover? The ‘what ifs’ hurt Lotor more than the ‘right nows’. Because he was stuck. Thrown away and forgotten all because no one thought of his worth. But maybe...What if...No. No. It hurt. It hurts. And no one can help him. Not now, not ever.

9. All Night - Beyonce

Pidge never thought they’d see each other again. She never thought that he’d look at her like that, Allura all but a blip on his radar. She never thought he’d touch her like that. So, so very gently. Like a promise. A terrifying promise he was scared of breaking. And she never thought her heart would hammer so loudly for him. For Lotor

10. Say Yes To Heaven - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

Shiro should’ve known, should’ve seen it sooner. Lotor was so gentle with Pidge now. The void had...changed him. Not just his personality but his priorities. He should’ve seen it sooner. But he didn’t.

11. Tell Me How To Feel - Maggie Eckford

Pidge couldn’t stop shacking for an entire varga after leaving the void. Everyone had written it off as stress from all the quintessence. But in her heart, she knew better. She had heard the name Lotor whispered after all that rage and fury and terror. And it haunted her. “Pidge”  

12. Roses - Lana Del Ray (Unreleased)

Pidge knew something was off before she even arrived at her door. There was this...overwhelming sweetness in the air. Somehow, someway it made her heart pound. The closer Pidge came to the source of it, her room, the warmer her body became. Flushing as if she was embarrassed. Then she saw it, when the door to her room slid open. The entirety of it absolutely covered in blushing flowers. Every shade of red, pink, and orange covered every inch of her room. Pidge stumbled back. Into a pair of warm arms. Silver hair flowing in her the corner of her eyes as she heard him. Lotor’s voice nothing more than a purr. “Hello Pidge~”

13. Requiem For Blue Jeans - Bastille

She was smarter than this. She had hacked the government, brokered peace deals, and helped defeat an evil warlord. She was better than this. But then Lotor threw her that look again and there went her heart. Flying up to her throat as he cornered her. All but pressing her up into the wall with his mouth, fangs sharp against her tongue. She’s smarter than this, Pidge told herself. But then whispered her name in such a way that made her want for something really, really stupid.

14. Angel On Fire - Halsey

Ambition burned in the both of them. Crawled under their skin like a disease. I can do better, I can do more, I can raze heaven and hell and force them to their knees. They were so alike in that sense. So prone to crashing and burning that it should’ve seemed obvious how brilliantly they collided with one another. Too kindred for hatred, and too spitting for infatuation. But just right for blazing, burning, scorching passion.

15. Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran

Pidge could understand it, she supposed. The loneliness of misunderstanding. Of no one giving you anymore than a single glance, a fleeting thought. Of being seen as so small and pathetic that you’re entire worth as a person became nothing. She could understand something like that. So it hurt her, deeper than words could explain, to leave Lotor there, in that void. Screaming for someone, anyone to please for the love of all that’s good and pure in this world listen to him, understand him please.

16. Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood

Lotor disliked gatherings like this. Women and pretty boys dancing on tables. The gag-worthy scents of smoke, booze, and other things he’d rather not name in the air. But this was where his informant wanted to meet, so the Prince relented. And then the imbecile didn’t show altogether. Gritting his fangs, Lotor was about to leave. Then he saw her. Hidden away and pressed onto the wall. A girl watching him. Those same lonely eyes reflecting back at him. Gilded and gold and unashamed. And, suddenly, Lotor found himself liking this place a lot more.

===

Feel free to add onto this or take any of these as writing prompts! Just be sure to tag ;)

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Yes lesbian!Kidge please 😍😍😍

Can I just say I’m so happy that so many people were interested in this self-indulgent little idea of mine??? It makes me so happy! x3

Also, this fic is based loosely in canon, somewhere between S7 and S8, since I started to write this out before S8 hit. Also, in regards to Female!Keith in this, I was vague so that the reader can view it however they’d like. If you want to read this as Cis Female Keith or Trans Girl Keith, you’re free to! x3

Keira Kogane had to have pissed off some cosmic force in herlifetime, with what she was facing in that moment.

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal aboutthis," She said, crossing her arms and glaring at the figure before her,poised over a large box filled with clothes. Off to the side, she saw Shiroleaning against a wall and skimming through a magazine, seeming quite contentto hand the reins over to another set of hands. She narrowed her eyes to flashhim a half-hearted glare.

Filthy traitor, leaving her to fend for herself against thewolf.

She perked up as the other hoisted himself up, hands settledon either side of the box, flashing her a chiding look with his bright blueeyes. "Because, my poor, misguided friend," He said before seeming tospot something in the box that he liked and diving back down, "a date is abig, big moment for a blossoming romance. And I can tell that your experienceregarding romance is... Well, let's just say it leaves a lot to be desired.Plus, gonna be honest, but your sense fashion could use a serious helpinghand." He pulled out a bright yellow and blue tube-style shirt and lookedat her with a bright grin.

She made a face and, with a small huff, he cast the shirtover his shoulder and resumed his searching. Feeling a bit braver, she walkedover and peered over his hunched form into the box, arms crossing on instinctover her chest. "What's wrong with the way I dress?”

"Have you lookedat your jacket recently? It's like a poorly constructed matador cape!" Helaughed, casting an incredulous look at her over his shoulder.

"It does not!" She snapped back.

“It totally does. Besides, it doesn’t fit you right anymoreanyway. You need to update your fashion sense as well as your ensemble. Getsomething that actually fits,” He retorted, tone dismissive.

"I really like my jacket. It's comfy and I can movereally well in it. Who cares if it isn't the height of fashion?" Sheasked, waving one hand in the arm as if to dismiss him in turn.

"Pidge will,"Lance sang back, the smug look on his face causing her to flinch back.

It hadn’t been something she’d been planning to do, really,despite how badly she wanted to. In the weeks following their last huge fightagainst the strange Robeast that showed up on Earth, the Paladins hadn’t seen awhole lot of each other. Or, rather, Keira hadn’t seen too much of the others.Galra contained a slightly elevated healing rate than humans and, due to herown heritage as a Halfling, she’d been cleared to leave the medical bay muchsooner than the others. And once she was cleared, Shiro and Commander Iversonhad scooped her up to help with this or that, as well as to give statements toEarth and coalition-based media outlets about the situation as it stood.

It was in this time that she stood back and examined things.In specific, an interesting conversation she’d had with Iverson about missedopportunities was what caused her to decide she needed to act. She’d spentplenty of time sitting on her hands, quietly wondering if she even stood achance if she were to put herself out there like that. After all, Pidge wasbasically living starlight; brilliant and vibrant and vivacious. She was loyaland intelligent and passionate. Oh, and how her eyes lit up when she gotrambling about her latest research project!

And then Keira was just… Well, she was just a mopey, lonelysort that got stuck being the leader of the most powerful weapon the universeshad to offer. She wasn’t the type of person that people like Pidge Gunderson,or Katie Holt or whoever she was took an interest in. But, when she’d dared tosay as much outloud, Commander Iverson had cast a curious glance at her. “Notlike you to give up without a fight, but it sounds like you’re ready to pullyour hat out of the ring before it even touches the dirt. Not as brave as Igave you credit for, huh?” He said, tone near wistful.

And Keira, a creature of pride and impulsiveness, hadstormed off to find the other young woman and ask her out.

She’d found Pidge by chance, heading to the hanger to checkon the Lions with Hunk. Hunk, dear sweetheart that he was, had sensed the moodand excused himself. Keira had stumbled through her words, barely managing toget it out that she wanted to go out with Pidge. Just the two of them. On adate. She’d been startled when the shorter girl had actually flushed and lookedaway, everything about the gesture coy and nearly painfully cute, beforelifting her head and nodding, still clearly embarrassed but also giddy.

“I’d love to,” She had breathed out, her voice a littlewispy. The two had agreed to a few days later, when they were to have a freeday to start milling about the rebuilt portions of town, and then parted. Asshe was heading back to her room, though, the reality of what she’d just donesettled in and she was faced with another challenge.

Which was how she’d ended up where she was in that moment,wincing as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Do... Do you reallythink so?" She asked quietly.

There was suddenly a hand on her shoulder, causing her tolook up at a smiling Shiro. "No, she won't. Lance is just beingLance," He said, calmly placing the shirt Lance had tossed aside back intothe box. Lance groaned and shoved the shirt aside as he riffled through andpulled out a neon orange spaghetti strap thing. He set that one down beside thebox; to offer to Allura or Romelle, Keira hoped. She then glanced back up ather mentor, taking his gentle squeeze as a way to get her attention. "Pidgewouldn't have agreed to the date if she didn't like you for you, Keira."She blinked then smiled, feeling a bit more reassured, as Shiro reached intothe box himself and pulled out a denim skirt. "Although I will concede,trying out a new outfit or two might be more worth it than you'rethinking."

"If I may also add, Shiro" Lance mused happily ashe turned to look at the two, "the outfit can help set the mood. I mean,you want to make it clear to Pidge that you're interested in her. It's why youasked her out in the first place, after all."

"Well, yeah," Keira said with a small scowl. Shethen cocked her head a bit. “But, shouldn’t the fact I specified it was a datebe enough to get the point across?”

“A date and a dateare two totally different things! You need to make sure to wear the rightattire to get the differentiation clear!”

Keira frowned and glanced up at Shiro. Ever helpful, hesimply shrugged and shook his head, as lost as she was. “O… Kay?” She trailed,turning her attention back to Lance.

"And you're the one who asked me for help on picking anoutfit, right?"

"Actually, you were eavesdropping when I was asking Shiro to help me. And then, as you'reprone to doing, decided that you just had to take over,"

"Eh. Tomato, tomatoe," He huffed, waving a handbefore grabbing a few items that he’d pulled to the edge of the box closest tohim. "Now let's see... Your usual color preferences are towards reds,blacks, and purples, from what I've seen. How do you feel about exploring andtrying out some other ones?"

She knelt down beside him, peering in curiously. "Aslong as you go with darker shades, I'm open to going a little bit farther outof my norm. Oh, but I'm not big on patterns" She said. Lance nodded,taking three of the items in his grasp and setting them at the other end of thebox. "And nothing that’s, like, super ruffly or frilly or has any kind ofglossy material to it. No dresses or skirts, either. Oh, and nothing toorevealing. Like, if I have to go with short sleeves, I’d rather have a coat orjacket or something to wear over it. And I'd really like to wear some boots. Ormaybe just my usual boots would be fine."

Lance dropped all the articles in his hand and let out along, drawn-out groan.

Keira shifted back a bit. "Or... I guess just whatlooks good?"

Shiro settled in on Lance’s other side and shook his head ashe started to look through the box as well. "No, Keira, this is good.You're the one going on the date, not Lance. You should like what you wear andhave final say on it,"

"Shiro's right. I just wish you were a little more...Diverse in style," Lance said, rummaging to the bottom of the box until hepulled out a pair of light blue denim shorts. "How about thesehigh-waisted shorts? Pair these off with some nice, dark colored leggings,maybe?” He prompted.

She reached out and gently took the shorts, holding them upto her hips. The looked like they’d fit just fine. "I like these,"She said, offering him a small smile as she settled them in her lap.

He whooped and pumped one fist in the air. "There wego! I'll take this little bit of progress!" He reached back in and pulledup a shirt, looking it over with his head tilted a bit. "So, I know yousaid no to patterns, but how do you feel about stripes?"

"Stripes are fine. I more just meant, like, floral oranimal prints," She elaborated, trying to get a glance at what he waslooking at.

He snorted as he pulled out a red and white striped shirtthat was knotted at the shoulders in lieu of proper sleeves. "Well Iwouldn't put you in those kinds of prints. It takes a very classy,sophisticated lady to rock those prints and you aren’t in that class by a long shot,"

"Rude," She hissed lowly.

"Not rude; honest. There's a difference," He said witha smug grin, holding the shirt up to her to make sure it would fit her alright.

She snatched the shirt from him and set it in her lap, aswell. “Kinda like the difference between a cargopilot and a fighter pilot,” Shesaid, waggling her eyebrows at him playfully.

Lance let out a faux-scandalized gasp, pressing one hand tohis chest. “Rude girl!”

She merely shrugged before leaning further into the box,spotting something that looked black and stretchy off to the side."Tomato, tomatoe,"

They both jumped in surprise when Shiro started busting uplaughing at the jab.

He blinked when they both stared at him, the tips of hisears turning pink. He then cleared his throat a bit. "What? You have toadmit that was pretty clever, Lance!"

The other hummed and turned his attention back to the box,his blue eyes mirthful as he continued his searching. "I'll take your wordfor it. Now, back on track, if we could?"

In the end, they found a pair of black leggings, as well asan oversized cardigan in a light grey. And, instead of boots, Keira agreed toswing for a pair of ankle-high converse-style sneakers. The sneakers clearlyweren’t name-brand, but they were surprisingly similar and comfortable to wear.Her hair was tugged back with nothing more but a simple red headband, whichfelt strange with how the little teeth gripped at her head. She normally justwore it back in a ponytail or let it loose. Lance had wanted to try and get herto accessorize further, but she’d opted into only wearing a modest silvernecklace with a heart charm at the end, a small topaz at the center.

It had been a gift from Krolia; the pendent one that Keira’sfather had given her before she left, so that she’d always have something toremember their daughter by.

She shifted a bit as she hovered by the small path that ledinto the city proper. It wasn’t much of a city anymore, admittedly, but it hada certain charm to it. Made her think of the kinds of elaborate villages Coranwould describe when Pidge and the others had played Monsters and Mana with hima handful of times. It reminded Keira, too, that she should ask about them allgetting together sometime to play. The idea of playing a game with the othersafter she’d been away from them for so long seemed kind of fun, and she’dalways been a bit of a sucker for fantasy-style worlds.

She’d never played a game like that before, but she figuredit wasn’t too hard to pick up. Besides, she was certain that Pidge would helpher figure things out, if it was that big of a struggle.

"Oh, wow, you look really pretty,” A voice gasped justa few feet away, snapping her from her musings. She must have looked surprised,see how immediately Pidge’s face was turning bright red and she held her handsup in an almost defensive manner. “I mean-! You always look pretty! You don'thave to try to look pretty but you look even prettier when you try! Oh, wait,that's not what I meant either!"

Keira blinked then giggled a bit, covering her mouth withone hand. "Hey, it's okay. I know what you mean. And thank you," Shesaid, cracking one eye to size Pidge up. Her outfit was a simply one, too; apair of dark blue capris, a sleeveless green top with a lightly ruffled edgealong the collar in white, and a pair of pale pink flats for an added splash ofcolor. The thing that really got Keira’s heart thrumming was how the blush onher cheeks made her freckles stand out even more. "You look super cute, bythe way."

She visibly relaxed at that, shoulders slacking a bit, butthe blush remained high up on her cheekbones. "Thank you," She saidbefore perking up and stepping a bit closer, so she was standing beside her."So, what's on the agenda?"

Keira smiled and gently led Pidge down the path, resistingthe urge to take her hand or offer her own arm. She didn’t want to be tooforward. "Well, I was mostly just thinking we could walk around, see how therebuild is going," She explained, glancing over at the canopy-coveredshops not far ahead. She knew most of what was here already from her check-inswith Shiro, but she knew Pidge hadn’t had the chance to come exploring justyet. She then offered Pidge a small smirk. "I may have also found arebuilt ice cream shop not too far from here, if we wanted to get some."

"For real?"Pidge gasped, eyes lighting up like the tail of a comet.

Keira nodded, having to swallow and compose herself a bit. "Yeah!I’ve been coming down here with Shiro since I’ve been cleared to leave the medicalbay, so we could do proper introductions with the coalition volunteers. Whilehe did that, I wandered off on my own a couple of times. They were almost donewhen I stopped by," She explained as they walked along. The paused for amoment at the first stall once they entered the shopping area proper, Pidgeleaning in to look at the alien ores laid out curiously. "They said theselection might be a little limited, though."

She sat back up and looked at her, still glowing at theprospect. "Pssh! Who cares? It's icecream!" She laughed happily. The darker haired woman could feel ablush creeping up to her own cheeks. It was ridiculously charming how riled upPidge was getting at the idea of something as simple as getting ice creamtogether. “Though, I suppose we do need to resolve one thing before we go anyfurther.” She said, tone suddenly somber, gaze at Keira expectantly.

She blinked a bit and cocked her head. “Uh.. Sure, what?”

“Rum raisin… Any thoughts?” Pidge asked.

Keira couldn’t help but make a face and stick her tongueout. “Ugh! Rum raisin is disgusting!”

“Thank you!” Pidge blurted, throwing her hands up in theair.

“Who in their rightmind was trying to defend rum raisin?”

“Matt! He was trying to claim that it ‘isn’t that bad’!Like, did all the space travel screw with his taste buds? I feel like I mighthave to disown him for this,” She said, using air quotes and flailing her handsabout as she spoke.

Keira snickered slightly. “I can’t believe Matthew Holt isfucking dead,” She mused.

Pidge let out a quiet yelp before bursting out laughing. “You’vebeen brushing up on memes! You’re so sweet!” She said, her smile turning tosomething a bit fonder.

Keira’s heart leapt in her chest as she watched Pidge’sexpressions shift, noticing for the first time that a few of the largerfreckles on her left cheek could be traced to form a miniature inversion of theLeo constellation, as if she’d been born with a marking of stardust to helpguide her to her fate.

Before they part ways later that evening, Keira makes sureto press a quick peck over the little mark, and delights in how theconstellation becomes more profound at the blush that crops up from the smallpeck.

[nobodys-pearls]

i hate space but oh how i love the starlight in your eyes

Ship: Adam/Shiro

Summary: The story of how Adam and Shiro first met, how they fell in love, and how they pretty much adopted Keith - all told from Adam’s point of view.

I began writing this fic this shortly after watching season 7 because if they couldn’t give us their story, then I was going to write one, and it was going to be full of fluff.

Read on [AO3]

Chapter: 2/10

Age Sixteen

The year came and went faster than Adam expected it to. Soon he was finding himself packing his duffle bag so that he could spend a few months with his family before the next year of training started.

He and Shiro - well, he wasn’t quite sure what they were. They were rivals, but they were also - friends? They learned a lot together during their first year, and they pushed each other to become better.

He’d never admit this to anyone, but when he was back home in his bed at night, he would begin to miss Shiro’s presence. He missed the idea of Shiro being in the room next door. He missed making tea for the two of them, and going flying together.

He hated space because he thought that it was lonely. And yet space was what brought him and Shiro together.

He loved his family. Although he would never say it out loud, he missed going outside with his sister to look at stars, more of which he could name now thanks to his training. He’d missed family dinners and eating his mom’s cooking. He missed lazy drives with his dad. He had a nice time at home and yet -

He found himself missing the Garrison.

When the day came to pack his bag for the next year in the SEP, he tried to mask his excitement. His sister knew that he made a friend during his time there, and that he learned a lot about flying and now had a deeper knowledge of outer space, but that was about it. There were times where he felt tempted to tell her all about Shiro, about their rivalry, but he would always decide against it. He wasn’t exactly sure why, it just felt like it was their thing. Telling other people would be like sharing a secret.

So yeah, he was excited, but his sister thought that it was only because he was going to learn even more about space exploration, that he was going to get one step closer to seeing space for himself.

But he had other reasons.

His family dropped him off and said goodbye to him like they did last year, except Iverson wasn’t there to greet him this time. He hugged them all goodbye, promised to call them, and then he took his duffle bag and walked down the now familiar halls towards his room. He learned part way through last year that cadets had the same room assignment throughout the duration of the program - it was simpler that way. That meant that he was going to be rooming with Shiro every year.

As he opened the door he wondered if Shiro would be there, sitting on the couch or putting the kettle on the stove - waiting for him.

But no one was there. He decided to ignore his disappointment as he walked to his room, setting down his bag and pulling out his sheets, starting to make his bed. It was as he was in the middle of folding his clothes and putting them in the appropriate drawers that he heard the door to the main room open. Then he could hear the familiar sound of the tea kettle being pulled out of the cabinet.

He smiled to himself and decided to finish unpacking later.

“Hey Shiro,” Adam said, walking out of his room. He watched Shiro jump and turn around, a surprised look on his face that quickly melted into a smile.

“I didn’t know that you were coming back today,” Shiro said, filling the kettle with water.

Adam shifted on his feet. “Yeah, I asked my parents if I could come a day early so I could get settled before classes start up again. How was your break?”

Shiro shrugged and turned around, putting the kettle on the stove. “Average, I guess. I’ve been pretty on edge for classes to start, actually.”

“Same here,” Adam said. Shiro raised a brow. “What?”

Shiro smiled. “It almost sounds like you missed me.”

Adam scoffed and crossed his arms. “I missed beating you, maybe.”

Shiro laughed. “I missed beating you, too.” They both looked at the kettle as it started to whine, and Shiro took it off the stove and went to the cabinet. He pulled out two mugs. Adam couldn’t help but smile. Shiro didn’t even have to ask - he knew that Adam would never say no to tea. He watched as he poured water into both mugs, steam curling upwards as he dropped in two teabags. Adam walked up to the counter and Shiro placed one of the mugs in front of him.

“Thanks,” Adam said, closing his hands around the mug and savoring its warmth.

“So what do you think we’re learning this year?” Shiro asked, blowing on the mug in his hand.

“Year two is usually more advanced flight training, harder space simulations - other than that I’m not sure. My brother -” Adam stopped, clenching his jaw as he looked down at his tea. He could feel panic rising up his chest, its fingers gripping at his throat.

“You’ve never mentioned having a brother,” Shiro said.

“No, I didn’t,” Adam replied as evenly as he could, and Shiro didn’t press the subject.

“Iverson told me that there’s a new kind of training that they’re starting up this year. We’re supposed to be the cadets to test it out.” Adam relaxed loosened his grip on his tea.

“Did he tell you what it was?”

Shiro put the mug down. “I have no idea.”

Adam took a sip of his tea. It was mint. “I guess that we’ll find out tomorrow."

“This year we’ll will be pairing all of you up,” Iverson said, looking down at his cadets. “You’ve learned how to function as a larger unit, but to be an effective pilot you also need to be able to work one-on-one with your fellow teammate. You will be working with your partner from now until the end of the program, unless a pair has proven to be unable to cooperate and then we will adapt accordingly. Make sure that we don’t have to adapt.” His look became stern. Then he put his hands on his hips. “Before you all began this program we had already paired you up based on the personality assessments that we gave you before you arrived.”

Adam fought the urge to glance at his fellow cadets. He wondered who he was paired up with, who’s personality was apparently compatible with his own. A small part of him hoped that it was one person in particular, but he squashed that hope before it got too big.

“Your flight partner is your roommate,” Iverson said. “That way you would get to know them during your first year before you started working more closely together, and hopefully iron out any problems before this part of the program began.” Adam could feel Shiro’s eyes on him, but he decided to keep looking ahead. He was afraid of what he would see in Shiro’s gaze. Would he be disappointed? Part of him dared to hope that he was just as happy as Adam was.

“Partner training will start at the beginning of next week,” Iverson continued. “You are all dismissed.” They all saluted and filed out of the room. Adam began to wonder what exactly this ‘partner training’ would entail. Was it a series of trust exercises? Would they be doing flying formations together?

Then he began to wonder if his brother ever had to do something like this.

“Hey,” a voice said, and Adam stopped where he was in the hallway and turned to see Shiro looking at him. “Want to grab lunch?”

Adam nodded and together they made their way to the cafeteria. Adam couldn’t help but smile when he looked at the windows, at the door leading to the courtyard, at the kitchens.

“This place just isn’t as clean as it used to be,” Shiro said, shaking his head. Last year Iverson had decided that the perfect punishment for the two of them was to clean the cafeteria, since they did such a good job the first time. Adam didn’t tell his parents this, but they got in trouble a few times. It was a good thing that Iverson seemed to have a soft spot for them.

“Don’t worry, Iverson will get us cleaning this place soon enough,” Adam said drly, and Shiro laughed. They walked up to the line and Adam picked out a variety of vegetables and some rice. Shiro did the same.

“How about we sit outside today?” Shiro asked. Adam nodded his head and they went out the door to sit on one of the benches in the courtyard. It was cloudy today, but still warm. “I never asked you, how was your time with your family?”

Adam puffed out his cheeks in thought. “It was nice. It’s always good to see them, but,” he paused, trying to come up with the right words. “It just felt, different, being there. I guess I just got so used to living here,” Adam mused.

Shiro nodded his head and chewed on a carrot thoughtfully. “The Garrison is like a different world. It makes everything else seem like -” He stopped.

“Seem like what?”

Shiro sighed and put down his carrot. “I feel bad for saying this, but it makes everything else seem like it’s not enough.”

Adam remembered what his sister had told him when she was trying to convince him to come here. ‘You’re going to wonder how this little house was ever enough.’ He didn’t understand her then, but he thought that he was starting to. “You shouldn’t feel bad for saying that,” Adam assured him. “I was kind of thinking the same thing.”

Shiro looked at him thoughtfully and then reached over to steal one of his carrots.

“Hey!” Adam protested. Shiro took a bite out of it and smiled.

“Looks like your reflexes aren’t what they used to be, level ten,” Shiro teased.

Adam scoffed and reached over to try and steal one of Shiro’s carrots, Shiro blocking his attacks with his arm as he continued to eat the carrot in his hand. Adam huffed in annoyance and grabbed one of his own carrots.

“You want my carrots so much? Have them!” He declared, launching it at Shiro’s face. Shiro looked at him in shock, and then he grinned and threw a carrot back at him. Soon they were were throwing their vegetables at each other, and once Adam ran out of ammo he scooped up a handful of rice.

“Don’t you dare,” Shiro said, holding his last celery stick out in front of him.

“It seems like you didn’t learn your lesson about calling me level ten,” Adam said, feeling the rice squish around in his palm. Then he threw it at Shiro’s chest, getting it all over his uniform. Shiro looked down at it in shock. Then he looked back at Adam, and Adam knew that it was time to run. He quickly stood up from the bench but Shiro tackled him to the ground. He felt something squishy in his hair and saw grains of rice falling in front of his face and onto the ground. He laughed and struggled against Shiro’s hold, shaking his head so that some of the rice landed on him.

“Gross! Shiro complained, laughing as well. Then they heard a cough above them and lifted their heads to see Iverson staring down at them, his eye twitching.

“If you wanted to clean the cafeteria so badly, you could’ve just asked,” Iverson said. “I think the cleaning staff has missed your help.”

Adam and Shiro hung their heads in defeat. Neither of them won the battle, but Iverson certainly won the war.

Now that they were in their second year of training, they were allowed to take cruisers out into the desert. They just had to give advanced notice and make sure to sign the vehicles in and out. Adam was itching to fly. So far all they had done their first week back was review flight techniques and learn more about the terrain of different planets in their solar system.

So at the end of the week he decided to take one of the cruisers back to that rock that he and Shiro had raced to last year.

Once he arrived he got out of the cruiser and took off his helment, watching as the dust around him began to settle. He could make out a cabin in the distance, and wondered if anyone lived there. Then he heard the sound of a cruiser behind him, and when he turned around he saw that it was heading in his direction. The cruiser pulled to a stop and Adam watched as Shiro pulled off his helmet, looking at Adam in surprise.

“It looks like we had the same idea,” he said, stepping off of his cruiser and leaning against it. They stayed like that in silence for a while, watching the sky shift from blue to orange, pinks streaking over them and behind the desert mountains. Adam’s thoughts drifted back to the cabin.

“Did you ever notice that cabin over there?” Adam asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Shiro moved to stand next to him.

“Yeah, but only a week ago,” Shiro said. “It seems kind of weird that someone could be living all the way out there.”

“Wait,” Adam said, “you were here a week ago? At the Garrison?” Shiro nodded his head, but Adam could tell that he was beginning to close himself off. He did that every once in a while. “Didn’t you go home to your family?”

Shiro smirked and crossed his arms, but Adam could tell that he was more tense than he was a few moments before. “I’m a special case,” he said. Adam looked at him in confusion, waiting for him to continue. He watched as Shiro put his helmet back on. “We’re only supposed to use these cruisers for an hour. We should head back. We don’t want to have to clean the cafeteria twice in one week,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Adam wanted to say something, but he nodded his head instead. Shiro didn’t want to be pushed, and he was going to respect that.

But as much as he didn’t want it to, a part of him couldn’t help but be hurt by it. He was beginning to realize just how little he knew about his roommate.

“Only if we get to race back,” Adam finally said, putting on his helmet as well and climbing onto his cruiser. Shiro climbed onto his cruiser as well.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Shiro said, and this time his smile looked more genuine. “Last one back makes us tea.” With that he sped off, Adam quickly following behind, making sure to yell about how that was blatant cheating. The desert became full of red dust and Shiro’s laughter.

Adam ended up making the tea.

“Okay so you need to make a slight left in order to avoid the rock fragments,” Adam could hear Shiro instructing, his voice somewhere behind him.

“I don’t like this,” Adam said not for the first time, fighting the urge to pull off his blindfold as he tilted his thruster slightly to the left. “Is this okay?”

“No! More!” Shiro said.

Adam tensed and quickly pulled it farther to the left.

“Too much! You’re going to get too close to the planet’s gravitational -”

“I can’t do this!” Adam yelled, moving the thruster back to the right and trying to swallow down his panic.

“You need to trust me, Adam.”

“I do trust you! It’s just -”

“Remember what you told me, patience yields focus.”

Adam stopped for a moment, surprised that Shiro had remembered. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Okay, okay I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked, and Adam could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes I’m sure, now tell me what I’m dealing with,” Adam grumbled, readjusting the grip on the thruster as he waited for Shiro’s instructions.

“You’re about to enter an area full of meteors of various sizes,” Shiro began, his voice calm. “But it’s nothing that we can’t handle. I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Okay,” Adam said, taking another deep breath. He felt a lot more at ease.

“Wait, I have an idea,” Shiro said, and Adam could almost hear the gears moving furiously in his head. “Get into formation eight.”

“What?” Adam asked.

“You heard me,” Shiro said. Adam moved the thruster slightly to the right and forward, remembering the necessary movements for that flight formation. He had those movements drilled into his head at this point.

Oh.

“Great idea, Shiro,” Adam said, smiling. “Now what?”

Shiro didn’t say anything for a moment. “Formation forty-two,” he said, and Adam adjusted accordingly.

“Thirty-one!” Shiro said quickly, and Adam hurried to change into that position. “That was a close one, but we’re almost through the worst of it. “Formation two.” Adam pushed the thruster all the way forward and suddenly he heard Shiro let out of whoop of victory that caused him to clutch his ear.

“What’s happening?” Adam asked.

“Great work Shirogane, Wadley. You’re the only pair that managed to get all the way through.” Adam lifted up his blindfold and saw the screen before him blinking the words “Mission Success.” Then he felt two arms wrap around him from behind.

“We did it,” Shiro said, pride obvious in his tone.

Adam smiled. “Although I hate to admit it, we couldn’t have done it without your quick thinking.”

Shiro pulled his arms away. “I can’t take all of the credit. You were willing to trust me.”

Adam kept looking at the words blinking in front of him, finding it hard to get rid of the smile on his face. “It looks like we make a good team.”

“Yeah,” Shiro mused, and there was something in his tone that Adam couldn’t quite place. “I guess we do.”

“Adam. Adam, please, wake up,” Adam felt strong hands on his shoulders shaking him, and he quickly sat up in bed.

“Casey!” Adam yelled, looking around the room with panicked eyes, clutching his bedsheets. Then he squinted to see Shiro looking at him in the darkness, worry on his face.

“What happened I -” Adam began, trying to catch his breath and loosening his grip on his sheets.

“I could hear - yelling - coming from your room,” Shiro said, shifting awkwardly from where he was sitting on the edge of Adam’s bed. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

Adam rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Oh.” He could remember flashes from his dream. Harsh red lights, his sister’s terrified face, the sound of his mother’s sobs, being pulled further and further into a black hole, trying to call for help but unable to make a sound -

“Who’s Casey?” Shiro asked. Adam saw the softness in his gaze and looked away.

“Casey’s my brother,” Adam said, keeping his voice abnormally even. He didn’t want to talk about this, he couldn’t talk about this. His family knew that.

But Shiro didn’t.

“Adam,” Shiro said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You know that you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you.”

Adam didn’t like the way that Shiro was looking at him. Like he was broken. Like he needed saving. Shiro couldn’t fix this, couldn’t fix him. And he was annoyed and confused that he was trying to.

“I mean,” Shiro continued, shifting on the bed. “We’re roommates, we’re flight partners, we’re -”

“Friends?” Adam asked, interrupting him. He could hardly see anything in the dark. “I don’t know anything about you.” He immeadiately regretted his words once he said them, but he was right. How did Shiro expect him to talk about his life when he knew so little about Shiro’s? He told Shiro that he trusted him, and yet Shiro couldn’t seem to do the same. Shiro stiffened and pulled his hand away. Adam could barely make out his silhouette. “Shiro -”

“It’s probably best if I go,” Shiro said, moving to stand. Adam hadn’t realized how close they were only a moment before. He was already beginning to miss to absence. “Goodnight, Adam.”

“Shiro, wait,” Adam said, and he stopped in the doorway, light peeking into the room. “Thank you for waking me up, but - I’m fine, I promise.”

Shiro nodded his head, rubbing his wrist absentmindedly. With that he left the room and shut the door behind him. Adam was in the dark once more. Alone.

“Wadley! Pay attention!” Iverson barked into the comms, and Adam quickly altered his course so that he sped between the two rocks, just barely missing the one on the left. They had been practicing on this advanced flight track for weeks now, and yet Adam was struggling today. Shiro had been distant all week. He kept wanting to apologize, but Shiro was never around for him to do so. He only ever saw him in class, and Iverson didn’t give them the opportunity to focus on anything other than the lesson at hand.

He was stuck. It was frustrating.

“Wadley!” Iverson yelled again, and Adam realized that he was flying too close to the ground and quickly pulled the thrusters upward. “Okay, you’re done for the day. Get to the ground.” Adam sighed and quickly lowered his training jet to the beginning of the runway, lifting the hatch and hopping out of it. “Where is your mind today, cadet?” he asked, a harshness in his tone.

“I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again,” Adam said, and Iverson looked at him suspiciously.

“Make sure that it doesn’t. Shirogane, it’s your turn.” Adam watched as Shiro walked past Adam and into the trainer jet, looking determinedly ahead. He put on his helmet and climbed inside. Adam watched as the jet took off, flying down the runway and entering the training course.

He was flawless. He got through every turn without any criticism from Iverson. By the time he got back Iverson had a wide smile on his face.

“Excellent work, cadet.” He turned to look at Adam. “I hope that you were paying attention.”

Adam clenched his jaw as he looked at Shiro, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes as he walked back to his spot in line. Annoyance flared in his chest. They hadn’t talked in days, and Shiro seemed to be getting along fine. He was doing great actually. Adam bit his lip and looked out at the desert. Fine. He didn’t need Shiro. They were rivals, after all.

“I told you to turn left,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

“You told me to turn right,” Shiro said, and although he was wearing a blindfold, Adam could tell from his tone that he was glaring.

“I said right, then left,” Adam said, his patience wearing thin. “Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“Well what am I supposed to do now?” Shiro yelled, his grip tight on the thruster.

Adam let out an annoyed sigh. “You need to get higher. More than that!”

“How am I supposed to know? I can’t see!”

“Just trust me!”

Shiro made a noise of frustration and Adam watched as he was heading for a very large meteor.

“Go up!” Adam yelled, but it was too late. He looked at the screen as it flashed the words: “Mission Failure.” Adam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s over.” Shiro took off his blindfold and looked at the screen. Then he stood up and turned on Adam.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was that huge meteor?”

“I tried to!”

“You didn’t try hard enough!”

Adam looked at him in shock, watching as Shiro glared at him. “Why are you acting like this?”

Shiro scoffed. “Why do you care?”

“Because we’re -!” Adam was about to say ‘friends’, but then he remembered that night. It had been weeks at this point, but it still hung heavily between them. Shiro crossed his arms and looked away.

“Shiro, I’m sorry about what I said,” Adam began. This was finally his chance to clear the air. “I didn’t mean it, I was just scared and confused and angry -”

“As long as we can get through these simulations and pass this partner flight training course then it doesn’t matter to me whether you tell me anything about your life,” Shiro said, his voice even. “I have to be the best cadet in this program, so as long as whatever this is doesn’t get in the way of that then we’re fine,” Shiro continued, gesturing to the space between them. “Okay?”

Adam looked at him with wide eyes, something in his chest constricting, but he nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”

Shiro gave him a tired smile. He didn’t look mad anymore, but his was more distant than ever. “I’ll see you later.” Adam watched him leave the pod, wishing that he could say something but knowing that he didn’t have the right words. He just wanted it to go back to the way it was, but he wasn’t sure if that was possible.

As he looked around the darkened pod, the only light being the words “Mission Failure” flashing on the screen, Adam wondered if this was what being in space was like. Drifting alone in the dark, only you and an infinity to think about your mistakes.

He hated it.

[impfiltration-archive]

📃 ( for green!! )

Send a ‘📃’ for a short drabble involving our muses|| @pafallende

pidge thinks about running away from the team, but green is there to help her realize how much she means to voltron

Pidge wasn’t sure if language was enough to describe her bond with the Green Lion.

She hope she’d never have to say that; those kind of lines always felt hackneyed, like they’ve been directly plagiarized from some low-budget romcom. Something, something, “There are no words to describe our love,” blah, blah, blah. Cue the sloppy makeout session in the rain, and Pidge could already feel her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Maybe if her Dad just cried over cartoons like normal people, then Pidge wouldn’t have to rely on a bunch of vague clichés. No, no—don’t blame Dad’s movies.

PIDGE:\Mind\thoughts_>>>You wish you could still watch them with him again.

PIDGE:\Mind\emotions_>>>homesickness>heartache

Pidge feels a rumble in the back of her mind, and a new warmth sparks in her chest. She is being embraced; the sudden comfort she feels can only be translated to being held. Pidge revels in it. As satiny as these Altean blankets were, they feel too weird, or unfamiliar, for her to really enjoy. The same can be said for the pillows, her room, and this entire ““quiznacking”” situation.

Shiro crashes an alien ship into the desert, stumbling out as a walking collection of paranoia and loose-ends (Pidge doesn’t think he’s fully recognized her yet).

PIDGE:\Mind\emotions_>>>heartache

Then, Shiro and her ended up on a scavenger hunt for a “Voltron” with a handful of randos. This led them to the Blue Lion, the thing that flew them clear across the universe in seconds—all the way to Princess Allura, who immediately claimed them as her paladins of war.

That’s the part that Pidge is having some trouble processing.

She was meant for space, that’s how her family raised her. Also, this random, chain of events was better than her original plan to get herself to the stars, which was roughly: Infiltrate, investigate, try to steal a Garrison shuttle.. Continue from there. She’s off Earth, now, though, and in addition to having her own ship, she finally knows what happened to her family.

Pidge is in the perfect position to go find her Dad and Matt. So, why should she bother staying here? Sure, the Galra sound like trash, but she doesn’t want to fight them—just take back what’s hers. Allura is asking for soldiers; she wants them to offer their lives for her cause.

Like they almost did today, when Sendak came.

Forming Voltron was exhilarating, but the build-up there had been terrifying. She still hasn’t shaken off the disappointment from opening those cell doors to everyone but her family. Also, it took her being scared of dying before she could actually “give herself” to the team to form Voltron. She thought she’d never see her family again, she thought she left her Mom to rot.

Pidge couldn’t make a life out of that.

That’s why the girl has been tossing and turning in her new paladin quarters for the last hour,  just mulling everything over. How she should she break the news to everyone? It’s clear she can’t stay. Maybe she should just casually mention, “Hey, I’m already on a mission,” or maybe not say anything at all, and just leave?

Green rumbled again. This time, it was less of a reassuring purr, and something more along the line of scolding. Pidge agreed wholeheartedly; she shouldn’t run away without a word. For about the millionth time that night, she rolls side over onto her side. This time, she up bunches her blankets up around her face, as well as closes closes her eyes. Instead of all the other hectic things going on in her life, Pidge tries just focusing on Green’s energy.

The vague presence of her lion in the back of her head seems to surge, and before she knew it, Pidge was asleep.

Unconsciousness was a plummet. Straight through a black, blot of nothing (Something that just barely grazed Pidge’s sense of perception), then emerging onto an entirely new plane. It was like diving into the water, when everything had this gleam to it and went fuzzy around the edges; only, the place Pidge found herself was a forest.

Tall trees, thick grass, that undeniable earthy smell of old leaves—it all hit the girl in one go, like her little dirt-patch seat sat in the very heart of all things nature.

There’s this immediate intuition that this place is safe. After her 33rd rash from ivy and over-pollinated flowers, Pidge has developed an almost inherent revulsion for all things leafy; however, that little spark of aversion is overwhelmed by feelings of admiration and compassion. It all just resonated with the environment, letting her know she’s precious as sunlight itself.

Pidge closed her eyes and breathed it in, feeling any and all tension drain away. When she breathed out, it was a deep sigh that morphed into a burst of laughter towards the end, when something started to nose at the back of her neck. It’s Green, Pidge just knows it—as if that knowledge was directly planted in her head.

She twists around to grin all wide and buck-toothed at her lion, finding an actual lioness in place of her giant, mechatronic form. Of course, this one was green, and the proportions were off compared to an earth lion. Green had a round face and wide eyes; also, there was a ridge of fur ran up from her stomach to her front. She was like some weird, alien-version of a lion, and Pidge loved her with every fiber of her being.

Like that, the girl is smothering herself in the crook of Green’s neck, and clinging onto her like some kind of massive stuffed animal. “I’m so happy to see you!”

Green’s purr is instantaneous. Her maw doesn’t open, but Pidge feels like the reverberations of a chuckle are just sprinkled along her stream-of-thought.

TRANSMISSION:\frequency\Green_Lion>>>You’re acting like weren’t just united, little cub

Pidge pulls away as her smile goes sheepish. “Well, yeah, it’s just– I don’t know.” She made some awkward gestures as she tried to pick out the right words. “It feels like I was always suppose to find you, and l just.. I fit here. With you, I mean.”

Before she can stumble over her anymore of her words, Pidge gets another faceful of lion. Green is gentle, though, as she nudges her forehead against  the side of her paladin’s face.

>I understand. A lion of Voltron is much more sensitive tothe cosmos than your human sensibilities would ever allow. >For all those years I spent in stasis, I could still see into the universe, and sense so much potential

Pidge loses track of the forest. Her eyesight just flips channels, switching from greenery and tree roots to a stretch of space that truly embodied infinity. Comet tails burned cyan streaks into nebulas; every cosmic dust cloud was shaped, folded, and thinned-out into different abstractions that drifted around like some kind of majestic eye-floaters.

The stars dotted everything else, almost creating their own, shimmering vortex as their immensity and luster sprawled out to encompass any and all perception. As her eyes adjusted, Pidge found herself focusing on a handful of them that seemed to be twinkling brighter than the rest.

>I believed several different lifeforms could’ve been my pilot

All the sudden, that cluster of stars began to fade.

>But none of them raised to the occasion

Then, they were gone—no grand death or anything, just gone. At that, Pidge felt a vague sadness well up in her chest. She was floating out there, another body among all the heavenly and celestial beings, and she felt lonely. That is, until, she was embraced by a new energy, something so bright and warm that all the comets, stars, and nebulas were dulled.

>Then I was able to find you, little cub. >A daring child with an inquisitive mind,so ready to fight for the truth>I knew you would come to me

Pidge finally comes back to the forest landscape. There’s a tear in her eye, and she’s pressed her forehead right between Green’s brow. Honey stares into gold, creating a spectrum between vigorous youth and aged wisdom. The former crumples to the latter after a few beats, when Pidge loops her arms back around Green’s throat, then burrows her face into the thin fur of her lion’s face.

The lioness trills this time; a short, chirping sound of approval.

>I was very happy when you found me>However, now that I’ve told you all the years I spentwaiting for you.. Will you explain why you just want to leave?

Green didn’t really have a tone. It was more like she thought into Pidge’s head while giving a live-feed of her emotions along a secondary train of thought. It was weird, but Pidge knew she was being chastised either way. She let go of Green as well as scooted back some. She looked like she had just broken her mom’s favorite hand-lens.

“W-well.. I need to find my family. That’s why I came here.”

So far, Green has been sitting like Bea-bea whenever she wanted a treat; now, the lioness was standing on all fours, and began to stalk around Pidge. Anxiety ran down the girl’s back as she raised up to her feet. The air had a new staticky feel to it. She’s precious and loved, but disappointing, too—it’s teeming through the atmosphere.

A lump forms in Pidge’s throat while she shuffles around to keep her eyes on Green. She knows she’s messed up, and she’s struggling to try and explain herself. “I want to be your paladin, but I already have my own mission. Won’t we still be bonded?”

>So you wish to put me back in stasis and watch you fade away?

Pidge felt a gut drop, a little, remembering how lonely the stars were.

“No, I don’t want that– What if.. What if I took you to find my family?”

Pidge cringed at the growl of anger that burst in the back of her head. Green kept on stalking as the air turned all the more stale. She was disappointing; she was selfish.

>And now you wish to tear me away from the other lionsafter 10,000 years of separation, for a hunt youcan barely lead yourself?

Pidge wanted to point how Allura was doing the same thing by expecting her to just drop everything and go along with her war. She also wants to say, no, finding her family wasn’t some kind of “hunt”, and she does know where to look. She’s got an eyeful of nervous tears.

She’s shaking like a prey animal, not sure about what kind of stand to make. Her knees are buckling, and breathing was starting to get hard.

“B-but.. My family.”

Green stops. Her ears are flat against her head, and Pidge swears she can feel the lioness stare right through her heart and soul. There’s a sudden and very distinctive lack of friendliness to Green. She lost that kitty-allure; big eyes were slanted, now, and her poise has gone from tender to predatory. Pidge holds her breath, fearing she might be mauled. 

>And what if I were to leave you to your family?

Atop of paranoid and distressed, Pidge also finds herself confused. Although, uncertainty stews for maybe a second before she drops to her knees. It’s like someone had taken a shot; just one second and her guts had been strewn everywhere, leaving her with a gaping hole right where her ribs should be. 

That’s how it feels. Opening her eyes up is a struggle, even more so with when it comes to focusing on anything. At first, everything is just a blur of light, and when she can make out shapes, they barely process. 

There’s too much going on. Her heart is screaming in her ears, and breathing is even harder than before. Pidge is sure her lunges are gone; she’s just a gasping fish on the floor of a boat. Despite the gore, her hands fumble for her chest—it’s instinct to curl up on herself. She gropes at the ground and her legs, then finally feels her fingers twist around the fabric of her shirt. Pidge focuses on that, and finds there’s.. nothing.

No blood, no guts, no signs of any damage whatsoever—nothing. Pidge whines like a lost kitten as she sobs all wet and snooty. There had just been this sudden burst inside her; Pidge was sure her insides had been blown apart.  

There’s a tug somewhere inside her, and Pidge feels a new compulsion to look up. When she does, she finds the Green Lion looming over, and even though she’s already folded-over herself, Pidge still tries to flatten out her back like that might hide her from view.

>Shouldn’t your connection with your family be enough?>Our bond has only been suspended for a tick, and you’ve crumpled.

Pidge tries to say something. Her mouth opens and there’s noise, but it’s nothing coherent—just more whines and little, wheezy noises. For a second, Pidge thinks back to that night on the stairs, when she overheard the news report about the Kerberos. 

She was so sure that was the worse moment of her life, when she lost everything by light of the 11 o'clock news. Right now, she hadn’t lost something, but felt like apart of herself had died. Green’s presence just dissapear, cutting her off from all her love and warmth.

Now, her voice wasn’t a soft undertone to her own thoughts, but something that was drilled into her head through prying claws. Now, there was no soft grasses or trees lining a warm horizon, but someplace dark and dangerous.

She was pleading for Green to give all that back to her, but words were so hard, now, without any guidance. The girl cried even more before she finally turned over to base-instincts: rolling onto her side, to show her stomach, as a sign of submission.

Pidge was still clinging to her front, but the message was clear. She concedes; she needs to be with Green.

There’s a purring sound, and Pidge feels an instant relief. She was warm and precious again, made whole by Green’s love as it flowed through every part of her being. The crying comes to an end; although, they still left her face wet and blotchy with a sticky-coating over her lip from all the snot. Green just lowered herself to curl around her paladin, dipping her head down to lick up the side of Pidge’s face.  

It was smothering and patronizing, but Pidge didn’t protest any of it. All that fear was still draining away, and she was thankful she could cuddle up with her lion like this. She took fistfuls of Green’s fur like you would a blanket, then more or less melted into into her side. From there, she sounded muffled and slurred, like a tired child about to be tucked-in. “Please don’t ever leave me, Green.”

The tree and grasses—now restored to their warm, spring haze—were starting to fade around the edges, blotting out to Pidge’s regular unconsciousness. Green just nuzzled her paladin’s side as she poured endearment and a sense of promise through their bond. 

>We will always be at each others’ side, little cub.

[bingbong21]

The Things We Fear

Summary: It's not just alien invaders that a person can be afraid of. It can also be the what-if's, the what could have beens, and everything in between.(Alternatively: Keith and James become friends with benefits in an effort to cope)

A/N: I 100% blame Keithy on the Sheithans server. This can be found on ao3 here and FFN here. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

Everyone had been hurting after the failure of the Kerberos mission, but all their grief paled in comparison to Keith’s. James understood why of course; Officer Shirogane had gotten him into the Garrison, saved him from a life of jumping from one prison sentence to the next. But now that he was dead, that whole plan seemed to be in jeopardy. So like the kind, caring man that felt a sense of duty to finish what Shirogane had started and who wished the best for his fellow classmates (which had nothing to do with wanting to be top of the class fair and square), James set out to offer Keith his condolences and a shoulder to cry on. And of course like the paranoid, socially stunted bullheaded asshole he was, Keith took it as an invitation to fight.

It hadn’t been pretty. There was no elegance to their fight, just a raw brutal animalistic force that only two teenage boys on the cusp of manhood could wrought. It ended exactly like their first fight at the Garrison had, with James on his back and Keith above him with raised fists. Then Keith’s shouts turned to sobs, his punches into desperate grabs at clothing, and next thing he knew he was staring up at his ceiling naked with a passed out, equally as naked Keith next to him.

When he woke up the next morning, Keith was gone. Gone from his bed, from the Garrison, and probably from his life forever. James didn’t let the bruised pride or the smarting marks on his body interfere with his career, and soon he was top of the class with Keith as nothing more than a distance memory. He had effectively forgotten about the guy, focused on preparing for whatever would come his way.

Five years later and life decided to give him a roundhouse kick reminder that no one was allowed to forget the name Keith Kogane.

James leaned against the windowsill, staring out at the vast expanse of desert before him. He was in one of the corridors of the Garrison hospital, sitting on one of the cushioned ledges they provided. He was there because…because…honestly he had no fucking clue why he was there. Him and his squad had been cleared pretty quickly after the final battle, diagnosis nothing more than some bruises and scrapes with a prescription of rest and celebration with the rest of the universe. The Paladins of Voltron were either sleeping off four years of an intergalactic war or catching up with the people they left behind and the friends they made along the way. There was no reason for James to be here yet there he sat, looking out to the desert as if it provided answers.

The squeaking of the wheels of an IV drip pulled him from his musings. He looked over and had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. There, walking as if he hadn’t just woken up from an explosion-induced coma was the head of Voltron himself, Keith Kogane. He looked so much younger in the hospital uniform, the bandages wrapped around his head giving him a sense of vulnerability. Just like when they were younger Keith paid him no mind, sitting on the same ledge as him and staring out the window. Either he was still unaware of what an awkward silence was, or he also didn’t know how to approach the sudden tension.

“Didn’t you just wake up from a coma,” James asked; subtlety was never his strong suit when it came to Keith. “What the hell are you doing walking around?”

Keith glanced at him from the corner of his eye before looking back out the window. “Felt weird, sitting there doing nothing. Feel like I should be planning another battle strategy or be in some diplomatic meeting.”

Makes sense; even when they were young Keith felt the need to be occupied by something, otherwise he was prone to getting into trouble. “Don’t you have some aliens to catch up with though?”

Keith shrugged, “Mom and Kolivan are out doing stuff for the Blades, Shiro’s busy being the voice of a new world order, and the wolf is probably either getting spoiled rotten by Lance’s family or playing with Bae-Bae. Don’t exactly have many options left to keep me company.”

“I could keep you company.” The words are out of James’s mouth before he even thinks to process them. Keith fully turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question; James holds his hands up defensively. “What? I’m not a complete and utter asshole you know!”

“We fought literally every time we were in the same room as each other.”

“Not every time,” James shoots back; something about Keith makes him want to argue, even if it makes him look like a dumbass. Those thick caterpillars Keith calls eyebrows furrow together before shooting into his hairline. James feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the light blush that blooms across Keith’s cheeks. He takes it as an invitation to scoot closer to Keith, hand resting dangerously close to his.

“Everybody else is celebrating or rebuilding right now,” he murmurs, “a party of one sounds pretty lonely, don’t you think?”

“Since when have you cared about me being lonely,” Keith responds; it’s quieter, not at all reminiscent of the confident leader he saw in battle. James shrugged, fingers walking between the spaces left by Keith’s.

“Since we saved Earth from a bunch of murderous space furries,” he quips, cocky grin on his face. He settles his hand right on top of Keith’s; for such a fiery guy, he really did have cold hands. “So what do you say?”

Keith’s eyes drop to their hands before slowly making their way back to James’s face. He gives a short nod, jerking his head back towards where he came. Soon the two of them are walking back to Keith’s room, with James thinking back to that night before Keith left. All thoughts cease when the door opens and he’s pulled inside, a mouth slanted over his and the door closing behind them.

When James had left his room after pulling the thin hospital sheets up to Keith’s chin, that should have been the end of it. Just a celebratory knocking of boots together for having not died and saving the universe from tyranny.

Except it kept happening.

Whenever one of those things fell from the sky, James would find himself being shoved into a broom closet or bathroom stall. When they actually managed to catch a break for longer than two days James was either being dragged to Keith’s room or pushed back onto his mattress. Not to say that James was some pushover whore for Keith to use at his fancy; James instigated a bunch of their liaisons himself of course. It’s just…Keith’s need to fuck was a lot higher than his. Like a lot higher. To the point that James wondered if it was a Galra thing to always be in a constant state of fighting or fucking. If so, no wonder those fuckers took over the entire universe.

Apparently others took notice of Keith’s stamina.

“So are you and Kogane just fucking or what?”

James spluttered, water going all over the table. Kinkade, Leifsdottir, and Rizavi all moved their trays accordingly in scarily perfect synch. James glared at Rizavi while coughing, who had the gall to just sit there and innocently poke at her salad. He took the napkin offered by Kinkade, wiping at his mouth.

“What are you talking about?”

“After every mission you and Kogane disappear for approximately ten to fifteen minutes,” Leifsdottir stated as if it were just another piece of data, “afterwards you both appear slightly disheveled with marks that are generally associated with sex. You and Kogane also have a tendency to disappear together for large swaths of time whenever there is nothing else to do, only to come out looking the same.”

“So cut the crap and give us the deets.” Rizavi jabbed her forkful of salad at James’s face. “Y’all fucking or what?”

James heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you must know, yes, we are fucking. It’s a friends with benefits sort of deal; he scratches my back, I scratch his. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rizavi hums, leaning forward on the table, chin resting in her hands. “And how’s that going for your big fat crush on him?”

James jerked away from the table, face erupting in flames. “I…How…I do not have a big fat crush on him!”

“Seventy-five to eighty percent of your complaints about him in flight school were about things that, upon further analysis, could be considered you actually talking about how attractive he is,” again Leifsdottir chimes in, as if she were just talking about the weather instead of one of her friends’ sex life. James shot her a glare, the blush still visible high on his cheeks.

“Yeah well, the numbers mean nothing. I don’t have a crush on Kogane, and this arrangement here isn’t making me have feelings.” He grabbed his tray, pushing away from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna finish lunch in the hangar.”

He ignored whatever snarky comment came from Rizavi’s mouth as he left the mess hall, thoughts bouncing wildly around his head. There was no way in hell he had a crush on Keith Kogane. Sure he respected the guy for his battle tactics, courage, and flight skills, but so did Commander Iverson and everyone else in the base. Did that mean they all had crushes on Keith? Of course not; it meant they were people with eyes and enough brain cells to rub together to have a decent thought. And fine, maybe he thought he was pretty easy on the eyes, but again that meant nothing. He’d seen Rizavi cycle through so many freak-outs about pretty girls without meaning to seriously pursue them that it barely even phased him.

Everything relaxed as he entered the upper decks of the MFE hangar. Something about being there, close to his ship and the opportunity of freedom just instantly calmed him. He looked around, hoping that he could claim a seat to look over his personal plane, when his eyes caught another Garrison cadet uniform perched on the walkway. More specifically, Keith in a Garrison cadet uniform with that kickass wolf perched on the walkway. Perched on the walkway right above where his beloved MFE sat charging.

Motherfucker.

“Thinking of stealing my ship are you?”

The dull thud that rang out in the hangar as Keith’s skull made contact with the rails above it had James wincing in sympathy. He walked over with his tray, afraid Keith might lash out in some sort of retribution. Keith merely clutched his head, groaning in pain before cracking an eye open.

“Why the fuck do people always think I’m trying to steal their shit,” he grumbled, arms slowly falling back to his sides. One hand came to rest on Kosmo’s head; the wolf pushed his snout into his hand. James shrugged, taking a seat next to him.

“You did steal Captain Shirogane’s care before we got here.”

“That was one time!”

“There was also the time you stole someone’s pens cuz they pissed you off. Oh, and the ti-” James was cut off as Keith slapped a hand over his mouth. He looked over at him, trying to avoid all connotations of intense eyes and hand over mouth with sex.

“Keep it up and I actually will,��� Keith threatens before removing his hand. He wipes it off on his pants before crossing his arms on the railing, resting his head on them. James took a moment to study his profile before turning back to his food. Kosmo comes towards him, eyes asking for food and pets; it takes everything in him not to give in.

“What’re you doing in here anyway? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your crew or something?”

“They were getting a little too rowdy for my tastes,” Keith responds, still staring straight ahead. He places a hand on Kosmo’s back, letting it rest. “It’s great to hang out with them, but when you spend two years on the back of a space whale with just your mom and a wolf, it takes a while to get used to it again.”

“Space whale?”

The corner of Keith’s lips twitch upwards, as if remembering fond memories. “It’s a long story.”

He turns to look at him, eyeing his tray empty of everything save a few scraps of meat James left for Kosmo. “What about you? What brings you here instead of being with your squad?”

James set his tray aside, watching as Kosmo descends on it like a vulture. He makes it a point to mimic Keith’s previous posture, resting against the railings. He shrugs, staring down at his jet. “Same as you. Rizavi made one too many snarky jabs.”

Keith hums, “So you can dish it but not take it huh?”

James’s shoulders tense; he’s not about to let some punk ass fuck buddy diss him in his happy place. He whips around to face Keith, only for his retort to die on his lips. Keith is laughing, a smile on his lips and good God he should not look as cute as he does. The Keith he remembers and the Keith he’s been fucking don’t smile or laugh like that. They’ve always been stony faced little bitches, only giving barest hint of emotion in the throes of passion.

“Relax Griffin, I was just kidding.” Keith’s snickers died down, face relaxing into something of…concern? James couldn’t tell, he was still trying to wrap his head around him laughing. “Rizavi really must’ve pissed you off huh?”

James wrenches his eyes away from Keith; anything to not confront the sudden emotions. “Yeah…guess it hit a little too close to home.”

More like a nail getting smacked down by a hammer, but Keith didn’t need to know that. A warm hand placed solidly on his thigh has him jumping form his thoughts. He looks over at Keith, eyes wide and faint blush on his cheeks. Keith’s jaw worked, eyebrows furrowed together as if he were chewing on a questionable piece of meat. James was about to ask what was up before he finally spoke.

“You ever fuck in the back of an MFE before?” James shook his head, too stunned by the sudden turn of events to do much else. Keith grinned, devilish and shit stirring and oh James was so fucked.

“Neither have I. Let’s fix that.”

It was cramped, hot, and humid inside his MFE, and so many different rules were being broken right now but honestly? James could give approximately zero shits at the moment. Not when he was leaning back in the passenger seat, Keith kneeling between his legs and sucking his cock just the way he liked. James moans, fingers combing through Keith’s thick hair. How the fuck did he get so good at this? Was that a thing for the Paladins of Voltron, just going around sucking alien cock? Or maybe he was practicing on one of his other Paladins; maybe he was practicing on Shirogane.

James growls low in his throat, grip tightening in Keith’s hair. Those two were awfully chummy before Kerberos, and now that Shirogane looked like some sort of Greek god? No wonder Keith’s asshole was always so ready to go; he’d been taking Shirogane’s monster cock on the regular for years now.

He yelped as a sharp pain shot up his thigh. James glared down at Keith who was currently sucking and licking a dark mark into the meat of his thigh. “The hell you do that for?”

“You spaced out,” came Keith’s smooth reply. He crawled up James’s body, settling himself in the other man’s lap. “I’m not doing this cuz I like the smell of sweaty balls you know.”

James pointedly looked out the window of the fight yet, trying to ignore the way Keith idly played with the ends of his hair. He could hear the frown in Keith’s voice when he spoke again. “What the hell has got you so worked up today?”

“Nothing!” James yelped again as Keith leaned in and bit into his neck. “Would you stop that! It’s not my fucking kink!”

“Not what you were saying a couple days ago,” Keith mumbles against his skin. He grasps James’s chin, yanking him to look him directly in the eyes. “Now tell me.”

James sucks in a breath, trying to resist the hypnotic lure of those beautiful eyes. “You and Shirogane ever fuck?”

Keith stares at James for a minute before his face scrunches up. James had seen the face before, when that orange-haired alien dude had cooked something up for the Paladins to try using Earth ingredients. “What? No! Why the fuck would I ever fuck Shiro?”

“Are you blind? Shirogane is hot! Plus…” James averts his eyes. He’s not sure why this part embarrasses him, but it does. “You guys have always had that really close weird bond thing going on.”

“Oh my God…” Keith mumbles, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighs, “You ever see that really old show Scrubs? Takes place in a hospital with a bunch of interns or some shit?”

James nods; it was Rizavi and Kinkade’s favorite old timey television show. Keith continues, “You know that one pair of friends on the show? Scrawny white guy and black surgeon dude? TJ and Thurk?”

“JD and Turk.” The correction slips out before James can stop himself; Keith rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, JD and Turk. That’s the kind of relationship we have. Definitely, hundred percent gay, we love each other to the ends of the universe and would do whatever it takes to save each other. But we’re not in love with each other, alright? He’s coping with Adam being dead and all that happened to him, and I’m…”

Keith goes silent, finally averting his eyes from James’s face. His jaw and face do that thing from earlier again. James cocks his head to the side, puzzled. “You’re…?”

“…Dealing with everything else, I guess,” he finally responds quietly. His shoulders are slumped forward; again James is struck just by how vulnerable and small Keith can look when he’s not leading them in battle. The thought is gone when Keith resettles in his lap, lining their bare cocks up together in his hand. His eyes are a smoky haze of lust and want; James is starting to wonder if that’s just a cover.

“Come on, we gonna finish or what,” Keith asks, lazily thrusting against James. James shudders at the feeling, prick perking back up in interest.

“Dunno, the moment is kinda gone,” James manages to mumble. Keith merely smirks, the fire of being issued a challenge lighting up in his eyes.

“Then let’s bring it back.”

More time had passed; the giant robots attacking them had slowed down to a trickle thankfully. Now it was just making alliances and a bunch of other bureaucratic niceties. Which was a pleasant change from the usual “Save the Earth or probably die trying” shtick they’d been doing, except that it kept the Paladins busy. Meaning that it kept Keith busy. Busy, and not needing a good lay to keep his head on straight. Which unfortunately for James meant he had plenty of time to ponder what his life had become and try to find meaningless mundane tasks to fill the time.

(“Why are you so obsessed with Scrubs recently? Is this a Keith thing?”

“It is not a Keith thing.”

“Oh my God it’s a Keith thing.”)

Right now he was engaged in his current least favorite way to pass the time; staring up at the ceiling of his room unable to sleep after curfew had been called. After so many years of being on edge, having to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, James had trouble relaxing when the days had been so…mundane. No secret rendezvous with Keith to tire him out, no life or death situations to deplete his mental energy, just nothing but peace.

He hated it.

James groaned, rolling onto the side facing his bedroom, eyes shut tight. No, hate was too strong of a word. He just…had adapted too quickly to wartime life and was now having trouble adapting back. He’d seen the others have the same struggles; they’d walk around aimlessly, looking for something to do but finding nothing. Funny how they were chosen for their skills at adapting to new situations but sucked complete ass at reverting back.

A warm moist puff of air hit James’s face; he scrunched his nose at the smell. Why the hell did his room suddenly smell like dog breath? He cracked an eye open only to come face to snout with Kosmo.

“Jesus.” He scrambled upright, heart racing. Why the absolute fuck was Kosmo in his room? Sure he’d gotten into the habit of giving the wolf a treat every time he saw him, but that didn’t seem special enough to have him break into his room in the middle of the night. Kosmo merely tilted his head, watching James with an otherworldly sense of intelligence. James sighed, reaching forward to ruffle his fur.

“I dunno what you want, but you should go ba-” A sudden pulling sensation deep in his gut, and soon James found himself sitting in a corner of the Garrison gym in his boxers and undershirt. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to grapple with the realization that he was here and not in his bed. He glared at Kosmo, who was quietly curled up in front of him looking innocent of any crimes.

“Hey, what was that for?!”

“James?”

His spine stiffened; he recognized that voice all too well. He turned towards the source of the voice, eyes the size of dinner plates. He watched as Keith walked over, hair pulled back in a low ponytail, sweat running down his face and soaking the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He noticed how his hands were taped, but more importantly he noticed how low his pants rode on his hips.

“The hell are you doing in here?”

Keith’s voice had him snapping to attention. He gestured wildly at Kosmo. “I…y-your stupid dog came into my room and brought me here!”

Keith narrowed his eyes at Kosmo; Kosmo gave an uninterested yawn. “I thought I told you not to wake people up?”

“Actually I was already awake,” James offered; even after being kidnapped by a wolf he felt the need to make sure Keith knew it followed the rules. Keith blinked, apparently taken aback by the statement, before looking to Kosmo again. Kosmo stood up to stretch before walking forward to Keith. He bumped his head against Keith’s hand, clearly looking for affection.

“I’m not petting you just because you know what a loophole is,” Keith chided; Kosmo’s ears lowered, a whine coming from him. “Don’t give me that look! You know exactly what I meant when I said that. Now take him back to his room.”

James swears up and down that Kosmo gets the same defiant look in his eyes that Keith gets before promptly turning away from him. With head and tail held high he walks over to James, plops himself in his lap, and immediately does not do what Keith asked of him. James and Keith both stare at Kosmo in confusion; Keith growls.

“No, that’s not-Stop petting him, you’re reinforcing bad behavior!”

James pulled his hand away from the soft fur, looking up sheepishly at Keith. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Keith called him out. “Sorry…”

Keith groans, walking over to sit beside him. He slides down the wall, shirt riding up as he sits, legs spread out in front of him. This close James can smell the pungent scent of sweat and body odor, dizzy from its force. Keith leans his head back against the wall, eyes slipping closed. The gym fills with silence; James begins petting Kosmo again.

“Why are you in here anyway?” The question claws its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to hold it back. “Curfew’s been in effect for a couple hours now.”

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” is the blunt response Keith gives. James looks over at him, observing the way he tenses at the question. How his body seemed poised to strike at a moment’s notice. It was so eerily similar to how he was as a child that James finds himself giving into his old habits of prodding when he shouldn’t.

“Why?”

Keith’s jaw tenses, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. James can tell he’s at war with himself, fighting a battle to tell a lie or a truth. It’s odd, watching Keith actually think before he moves. James had only ever known him to act rashly without a thought for the consequences. It was what made him a thorn in everyone’s side, yet at the same time made him such an incredible pilot. As the silence and battle stretched on, James pressed further.

“Keith…”

“Because of the nightmares,” Keith finally shouts; James jumps, startling Kosmo. Keith runs his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ground as he continued to speak.

“Because when I close my eyes I see my team dying, I see Shiro dying, or that stupid fight in that God forsaken factory, or my mom dying just within reach or,” Keith heaves a breath, fingers gripping the material of his pants, “or an entire planet being blown up because the Galra have just gotten that powerful now.”

“These alliance meetings…I know they’re important, know that they can change history, but they just…they make it impossible to exhaust myself so I can just black-out in bed.”

Realization dawns on James; he grips Kosmo’s fur harder than necessary. “That’s why we’re sleeping together, isn’t it?”

Keith nods, head still bowed as if in shame. James frowns as he processes the information, smoothing the ruffle he made in Kosmo’s fur. He’s not sure why this surprises him; maybe it’s because Keith has never failed to give off an air of confident nonchalance. Maybe it’s because he never suspected Keith of all people to use sex as a coping mechanism. Maybe it’s because he never thought Keith would involve him in any of his recovery steps. Either way he’s here and a choice needs to be made.

James turns towards Keith, reaching out with the hand not buried in Kosmo’s fur. He tilts Keith’s head up before slanting his mouth against his. He feels the way Keith freezes beneath his touch, lips chapped and slightly parted. Knows the exact moment Keith melts, moving his mouth in an all too familiar dance, allowing him to slip his tongue in. Shudders at the intimate feel of them meeting in the middle, twining around each other in greeting, combined with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Surprised when a sudden force has him pushing Keith down into…a mattress?

James pulls back, panting as he takes in their surroundings. They were back in his room, Kosmo nowhere in sight. He must have teleported them back before going back to Keith’s room.  He looks back to Keith, taking in the sight of cheeks flushed with something other than physical exertion, black hair spread out in a halo around his face. He traces his thumb reverently over the scar he came back with before daring to speak.

“You take care of the universe,” he murmurs; he settles more on top of Keith, straddling his hips. “Now, let me take care of you.”

A barely perceptible nod from Keith has James leaning back down to reconnect their mouths. He slips a hand under Keith’s shirt as their tongues pick up where they had left off. His skin is still tacky with sweat from the workout he did; James feels a desperate need to run his tongue over those hardened muscles. He pushes Keith’s shirt up higher, breaking the kiss only to remove it. He quickly yanks his own off, tossing them both to some part of the room before focusing back on Keith.

In the wake of Keith’s admission, the scars that mar his body tell a new tale to James. They tell the story of a man who’d give everything and anything to save the universe from tyranny. They speak testaments to his utter selflessness, how he puts lives above his own and asks for nothing in return. Before James had simply thought they were attractive, marks of his prowess as a warrior and ability to survive. Now though, he thinks as he traces the scar on his cheek and shoulder with his eyes, now he just hopes that someone had been there to soothe the hurts he suffered.

He presses a gentle kiss to the scar before peppering kisses down his neck. It’s different from the other times, no harsh bites or crudely given hickies. Tonight isn’t about staking claims or taking frustrations out on each other’s bodies. Tonight it’s about simply being there, taking care of the wounds they can’t see. Again James is reminded of that night they shared so long ago; he realizes then that he hadn’t treated Keith like he should have, like he had wanted to. He presses a kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, so dangerously close to his pulse point.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is almost lost in the harsh panting Keith provides. James feels fingers carding through his hair, blunt nails gently scraping his scalp.

“…For what,” comes the hoarse reply. James looks up, eyes locking onto Keith’s. He shrugs, hand idly moving to stroke at his abdomen; Keith’s muscles contract.

“For not treating you right,” he finally managed, moving to kiss a more recent scar further down. He continues moving, pressing kisses along every trace of injury, old and new, speaking between the kisses. The hand in his hair tightens as he moves ever close to Keith’s cock.

“That night, after the pilot error…I should’ve been kinder to you. I shouldn’t have said all the things I said to you, before or during. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to know.”

The silence in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. James wonders if Keith will shove him off now and tell him never touch him again. He’s surprised when he hears a isgh, and the hand in his hair pets him instead.

“I…” The hand stutters, before resuming its pace, “I’m sorry too. I know I wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and…I shouldn’t have left you that night. At least, not like that.”

James dares to look up; Keith is looking off to the side, finding the corner of his bed absolutely fascinating. He sees that vulnerable side Keith so rarely shows, and knows that he should tread carefully here. Still, seventeen-year-old James wants answers, wants to know why he was abandoned when all he tried to do was be kind.

“So why did you,” he asks as softly as he can manage, moving back up his body. Keith shrugs, still not making eye contact.

“I dunno, I was…scared? I didn’t know what would happen after, and I already was going to leave, so I just…did.”

James cups his face again. “You scared now?”

“Absolutely terrified.” Keith’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, leaning into the touch. “But…I don’t want to stop.”

James huffs, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms he keeps on his night stand. “That makes two of us then,” He uncaps the lube; Keith begins to shimmy out of his pants and boxers at the sound, “So at least…we can be scared together.”

He pulls his own boxers down, exposing his hard cock nestled in brown curly pubic hair to the air. He rolls the condom down, wanting to be prepared as soon as Keith is slicked and stretched. He takes his time loosening Keith, using one finger at first before gradually moving to two, then three. He never paid much attention to the sounds Keith made before and he curses himself profusely. The moans, the high pitched mewls he makes when James manages to strike his prostate, the expressions he makes on his face as he basks in pleasure…it’s enough to have him grasping the base of his dick to keep from cumming too soon. The rest is a blur; he’s only back to full awareness when he’s pushing inside Keith.

The feeling of that familiar wet heat gripping him tightly, coupled with the flood of newly discovered feelings has James feeling like it’s his first time all over again. Perhaps in a way it is; perhaps this was life giving them a second chance at something incredible. He reaches up, fingers lacing with Keith’s as he sets a slow pace, moans mingling beautifully with the punched out cries from Keith. With every thrust inside him James feels the balance of their relationship shift, changing from something to casual to something deeper than either of them ever dared to dream of. It brings a pleasure far greater than any physical action has ever wrought. He reaches down, taking Keith’s cock in his hand and stroking it, coaxing a gasp and moan from the man beneath him.

“James,” Keith pants; his hands grip tighter to his shoulders, legs moving to wrap around his hips to pull him in deeper. “I can’t…I’m gonna-ah!”

James slants his mouth over Keith’s milking him slowly through his orgasm. He feels his own drawing ever closer, abdomen drawing tight. His pace speeds up ever so slightly and, with a shout of Keith’s name, he spills inside the condom. Panting he rests, pulling away from Keith’s mouth; he chuckles as he sees that just like before Keith has already passed out in his bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He slowly pulls out and makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up. He pulls the covers up, and allows himself to fall asleep to the sight of Keith in his bed.

In the morning James presses himself against Keith’s back with a kiss to his shoulder, intertwining their fingers together, and feels like old wounds can finally begin to heal.