#Yes I do in fact still think about Vargas every single day

[vargaslovinghours]

In case it was ever a question

[lovethetasteofnothing]

You have a thing for accents, they find out/ you have an accent - TF 141, Los Vaqueros + Farah + Valeria + Alex

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙

includes: captain price, simon "ghost" riley, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish, kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, valeria garza (everyone getting fed today; yes the boys get their smutty content too)

gn!reader, except for laswell x fem!reader (she's a lesbian, argue w the wall), fem terms of endearment

warnings: nsfw content, dirty talk (like a lot), degradation kink, praise kink (yes, you get both) reader has a tendecy to repeat words they like the sound of (pretty much copies the way they say it bc it sounds nice), multiple themes idk what i'm talking about atp

word count: 2.5k+, aprox. 250 words/ character

enjoy <3

Captain John Price

he doesn't notice it at first, he just thinks you're smiling because his dad jokes are good

you say he sounds like a regular British dad at a football match (yes, football, I'm European too)

it makes his day because if he hadn't joined the military he would have probably been one by now

you call him Bravo 0-6 sometimes, you say it in his accent because why wouldn't you

repeating his favorite phrases from missions that he brags about because you think it's cute

insert cute Price smiley face here when he hears you(bc i love it so much)

you asked him for wa-ah once, he still isn't over it

you call him a lad/old man if his accent becomes really prominent

but you can't help the way his words make your heart race and the way he says them...

your underwear is sopping wet, your honor!

you freeze up and blush when he pulls off the filthiest sentence in a British accent

when he starts talking dirty during sex you can't help but moan louder/twitch/squeeze around him

that's when he figures it out

it kind of just connects in his brain and he uses it to his advantage

"look at the way you're taking me so good, princess"

will not let you live, constantly teases you about it

he'd call you 'princess' and 'duckling'

you quack at him if you're reallly feeling silly

recorded you doing it once, his favorite video of you by far

Simon "Ghost" Riley

you call him posh just to annoy him

gives you the hardest side eye of your entire life and you take it back

you tell him the Queen died and he doesn't have to keep the act up when he really pushes it (he calls you a tosser)

insert one of his dad jokes in here

you only laugh because you love him and your humor is broken

probably uses 'bloody' on the regular; calls you 'luv' and 'pet" 100%

like that man could just pull out a "What in the bloody hell did you just do, pet?" and you'd turn back time to make him happy

calls you his princess. emphasis on 'his" because it's never missing

definitely also the type of person to just copy whatever you said if he likes the way it sounds

when you're arguing, you just copy the phrases he said as arguments

good that the mask hides his smile or he'd always lose

loves the fact that you use terms of endearment in your native language for him (for my multilingual babes)

struggles to learn your native language but still tries

listens in on your conversations just so he can learn it better

upset when he can't learn bc his job doesn't give him enough time

turns into a big softie if you scold him in it

you record phone calls and save voice notes so you can listen to them while he's gone on missions

just the sound of his voice is so hot comforting

dirty talker supreme! i feel like he'd praise you more but there's a hint of degradation

just like a sparkle and he'd ask you five times beforehand if it's okay with you

you can't help it when your brain goes blank, the sound of his voice filling up every single corner of your mind (his dick does the same)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

you also call him posh

actually pulls out a posh accent to egg you on

you're both laughing so hard by the end of it

pulls out the most British of British sentences and leaves you shocked because the only word you understood was 'and'

clap because that's impressive

loves your accent if you have one

makes you say a word three times because he's fucking head over heels for the way your voice sounds

dirty talk champ!

but only when he feels like it

makes you beg for him to do it because he thinks you look cute on your knees so pouty

"my love, look at you getting all wet just from the sound of my voice. isn't that cute?"

his laugh!!

makes you laugh too even if nothing is funny

sends you long voice notes with how his day went or cuddles you on the couch while doing it

and you just sit and nod while listening, not saying a word

not because you're bored but because you love listening to the way he emphasizes certain words

type of boyfriend to send you a podcast of a debrief of his activities

he does it while coming back from missions even though his voice is so tired

and it just makes your heart skip a beat because it tingles your brain in the right spot

groggy morning voice, his accent all over the place, stumbling over his words because he got home late last night and barely slept

mumbles incoherent compliments? confessions? before you kiss him and make him get more rest

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

literally pulls out the most Scottish sentence out of his ass

and you fold for some reason???

he's confused because he's used to Ghost telling him to speak English but you just nod along

you also ask him to translate because you don't understand

you pick up some of the phrases he likes to say and use them around your friends before you realize they won't understand

you try to decipher his accent sometimes

you either nod along even though you don't understand and hope you don't need the context

or you ask him to use less Scottish terminology/tone down his accent

you'd repeat certain phrases he says, out loud when doing random things

it melts his heart

he'd say the funniest joke ever and laugh at it for 10 minutes before realizing you didn't understand him

he explains it, you laugh because you don't want to hurt his feelings (it was a dad joke)

giggled a little the first time he talked dirty, you were flustered already and couldn't hold it back

you make him send you voice notes/ call you when you're masturbating now

his fucking pleasure tbh, has to hide from his team so they don't hear him spewing the filthiest shit known to man

someone caught him once, he said he was talking to his mom

Gaz is now confused as to why he would use 'cunt' in a conversation with his mom

starts saying his Scottish lover's speech and you mumble parts of it because you already know it by heart

you actually start saying it with him at some point

Kate Laswell

really concerned? but also not surprised that you have an accent/voice kink

like wdym call you 'her angel' again because you need to hear the way she says it

pulls out American mom slang on you

you call her mommy as a joke, it wasn't a joke

she catches on because it's not the first time you did it but doesn't say anything about it

understands people with heavy accents like almost perfectly

"i have to"

would pick up little words in your native language

you would also pick up her mom monologue

so when soap does something dumb and you start scolding him like Laswell would you're a little shocked

she'd be somewhere nearby and hear you, little proud smile on her lips

you have to explain whatever slang you're using to her

finally understands what gaz and soap say afterwards

i dont think she'd be big on dirty talk

so when it slips out once, you stare at her in confusion before processing her words

you beg her to do it more often

literally sitting on her lap while she does her paperwork (surprising that she even let you do that)

and you whisper sweet nothings in her ear, trying to convince her to take a break and relax

"come on, hun, you know I can't do that. people depend on me" in that cute concerned tone of hers <3 <3

pulls out the filthiest flirting tactics known to man when a little drunk

"how about you sit there and look pretty for me?" and you do

she pulls you in her car and fingers you until you're screaming while whispering about how cute you sound

it changes your brain chemistry

Farah Karim

disappointed but not surprised

she feeds into your kink thing just because she can

catches you staring in awe when she speaks in Arabic, finds it adorable

lowkey find the way she talks mesmerizing

like you can listen to her voice and watch the way she gesticulates for hours on end

has that leader/public speaker charisma to her that gets you hooked

barks orders at you because she forgets she's not on mission

apologizes immediately because you're her baby and she feels bad about it

also scolds you in Arabic before translating

bilingual queen chastises you in two languages because you did something dumb

but you die inside whenever she praises you

"my good girl, you did well" like yes ma'am, yes you did and you'll do it again if it means you can hear those words coming out of her mouth again

tries to do dirty talk but fails miserably (her face is too serious istg)

makes you un-horny not because it's that bad but because you're laughing so hard for like 10 minutes, you have to comfort her afterwards bc she's sulking not amused

you just weren't used to it

asks Alex for tips on how to improve (she's really sacrificing her dignity for you)

decided to use her new skills when you were close to climaxing because you'd probably be too dazed to care at that point

you weren't, you still remember her words to this day

you play back every single filthy thing she ever said when you masturbate

Alex Keller

our American boy™

you make him do the college bro accent

you both end up laughing on the floor because you joined in and made it funnier

pure chaos ensues

if you have an accent he'd look at you with the most lovestruck eyes

literally grinning ear to ear if you speak in your native language, this man is the biggest simp known to exist

wants to hear jokes in your native language even though they make no sense when translated

he can mimick some British slang/ can say some words in a British accent

you tell him to stick to his American English because he's hurting your ears

you mimick him lovingly when he uses really American phrases/ his accent becomes really white boy™ from the USA

he flirts in frat boy sometimes but it's Alex so you find it cute

another dirty talk champ!

like his voice is so smooth and soothing while he says it. his face is just unbothered, maybe a little smirk under his mustache

"such a sweet angel, already soaking for my dick, hm?"

insert ocean cosplay here

I feel like he'd mimick Siri and be on point

also reads you books while you try to sleep, his voice really does wonders whenever you have insomia

you make him record himself reading so you can listen to it on repeat while he's on duty

Valeria Garza

she figures it out in the first week of dating you

you still don't understand how she did it, you weren't that obvious

she said Chicago once (literally went feral over cartel mommy)

it plays on loop in your mind at random times and you have to ask her to say it again so it stops, she refuses sometimes just to see you suffer

you also copy her facial expressions and her gestures when you repeat something she says

lowkey impressed by how spot on you are, thinks of ways to use it for her own benefit

teaches you Spanish!!! she'd do it herself and give you hw while she's gone on business trips

she'd bend you over her lap and spank you for every question you got wrong

speaks whole dialogues with you in Spanish just to encourage you to learn, would not translate if you didn't understand (her lap looking hella empty rn)

so happy when you can finally understand most of her sentences but doesn't show it, just praises you

"Qué bonito... que bien ahí. Well done" (iykyk, I watch that scene religiously)

Spanglish all the way when she's fucking you

She'd just slide her strap in and degrade you

"Such a greedy slut for me. Aren't you, muñequita?" she wouldn't move until you confirmed it with words

"Eres una chica tan patética" (google translate pulls through until i actually learn Spanish)

she started arguing in Spanish with you at some point, you got wet

she had to stop when she noticed you were looking at her like that

Alejandro Vargas

literally frat boy flirting archetype

but he's so nice and you can't help giggling when he calls you those cute nicknames in Spanish

you start calling him Vaquero because really look at him, tell me he wouldn't be a ranch hand if he weren't in the military

spews out the most toe curling, smutty sentences in Spanish because he knows you don't understand

literally only does it so he can see your cute confused face

would also teach you Spanish

had a period of time when he would refuse to use English with you because you needed to learn

he stopped when you cried in frustration (literally lasted 3 hours)

big simp if you have an accent

just smiles while you talk and when you ask him why he just shrugs

learns random cute phrases in your first language and says them while you least expect it

you had to stop for a second and take it in before blushing

you sometimes share one singular multilingual braincell

when neither of you can remember the word in English or in any other language

the toaster is now officially the bread torch

figures out you have a thing for accents when you keep talking about how nice he sounds while speaking Spanish

it's being used against you

"Eres un cachorro tan guarro~

makes fun of you because you listen to his voice notes on repeat sometimes

he caught you doing it once and now he brings it up biweekly

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

my fav vaquero (sorry Alejandro) bc he's just so sweet

literally praises everything you do, bonus points if it's in Spanish

makes your heart beat so fast

if you get mad he'd wrap his arms around you while trying to calm you down

"Calma, bebé. Take it easy"

and it works? like the moment you hear his voice and his gentle words you're calm again

there's something tranquil about the way he says stuff

mostly uses Spanish right after waking up

gruffy voice + him whispering sweet nothings in your ear

and you understand most of it because he took his sweet time to teach you

corrects you in the sweetest way possible

so happy when you learned how to roll your Rs

begs you to say it again because it makes his heart flutter

soft dom who loves to praise you even if you're being a brat

"Ah mi princesita, you're being so cute right now. " while he's pinning you down and pressing kisses to your whole body

literally kills you with kindness

like you're really going to be a brat after he calls you all those sweet names???

literally giggling and moaning at the same time because you're flustered

like this man is really telling you he loves you while he's balls deep in you

struggles to learn your native language

powers through tho

stumbles on his words and you help him out (that cute boy smile on his face when he gets it right)

rarely yells but when he does...

he got mad at someone over the phone and you overheard him

changes your brain structure

and then he picks you up to complain about it, his annoyed voice literally fueling scenarios to your brain

[diredove]

Curious Fool

My first time attempting to write anything longer than headcanons, please note I’m going off of this AU! I’m in love with Crowley so I see this as an x reader story, but it can easily be interpreted as something else!

Warnings: Very Mild cursing, Crowley being scary (as in, threatening and a hand squeezing a throat), Me grasping at straws to make Potentially Evil!Dire make sense! Gender Neutral Reader as well!

You wondered about Dire Crowley more than you would like to admit. He was an enigma that your brain for some reason was terribly invested in solving. It started small, maybe because you were holding back your suspicion out of guilt, the man had given you a roof over your head and food to eat in this strange new world, surely he deserved better than you concocting conspiracy theories about him? But gratitude should not inspire stupidity in someone, and it didn't inspire in you.

Why exactly was he being so gracious? For all the pretty words he spoke to you, he certainly didn't act guilty. Every sympathy he offered to your plight felt like it was meant to silence you, "Shush, no more of that." he seemed to whisper between the lines. Yes, it was all too bad you were stuck in a world not your own and that poor, poor Crowley was working himself to the bone to find a way back for you to no avail, but what would you have him do? He's already being so kind.

And that was another thing, wasn't it? He wasn't all that kind at all, or if he was it was only in a backhanded way. Wasn't he just the sweetest thing alive for giving you a place to stay? As if you weren't breaking your damn back every single night sleeping on the couch of the teacher's lounge and waking to the racket of your dearest headmaster starting up that monstrous coffee maker at the crack of dawn each morning! Well, what about the food you were provided every single meal time? Quite generous, he'd say. And you would beg to differ because you had a diet of convenience store sandwiches and children's snacks and sodas! Everything you ate was from Sam's shop and didn't cost that old crow a dime!

And maybe, just maybe, you would have been more understanding and grateful for it given your circumstances, if Dire Crowley wasn't absolutely loaded. He could easily afford to buy you actual meals, put you up some place that wasn't a glorified common room, pay you! But for all his guilt and graciousness, he didn't. It felt like he was trying to trick into being grateful to him when he hadn't actually done anything for you to be grateful for, in the grand scheme of things.

But that's not all. If that had been it then you could have convinced yourself you were being dramatic and gone on with your topsy turvy little life. But no, Dire Crowley simply would not let you rest (on a proper bed or otherwise).

Why did he act like that? You were not someone to turn your nose up at an odd personality, considering how well you were handling being in a potential alternate universe, one might say you have one yourself. But there was just something... off about him. He always seemed a bit too happy, he laughed just a tad too hard, his stares were too intense, he went silent after whatever spiel he'd been on so quick you'd think he had a switch inside him. Alone, those were just the quirks of being human (though you didn't even know enough to call him that either), but they stacked up quickly.

And you had really fought with yourself on this, worried you were being prejudice against him out of paranoia, but then you saw him get angry.

Everyone gets angry, everyone yells sometimes, it's a fact of life and you're an adult who can accept that. But seeing the headmaster shift from harmless eccentric man to inflicting backbreaking labor on teenagers who didn't get to explain themselves at all was rather... jarring to say the least. He yelled in his oddly charming accent and his mask hid whatever anger would have shown on his face, and maybe you were being overprotective of the young ones and forgetting that that type of punishment was far more manageable in a world of magic. But you couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding back, like he was seconds away from sounding like a different person beneath the quirky act. Like a parent putting on a goofy voice to scold their child to keep themselves from letting their frustration show.

But, and maybe you're just dense from here on, all that did was make you squint a little. There was just as much of a chance of him putting up a front as there was of you misunderstanding things and reaching too far. But the seed had been planted, and now you were curious.

So, instead of coming up with crazy ideas you had no backing for, you thought: "Let's just ask."

Not Dire, of course, as if he would tell you the truth or appreciate you prodding him. Thankfully though, there were people close to him that you could interrogate instead.

And then you started hitting walls, thick ones.

"What's Dire's deal?" Seemed like a pretty clear question, so why was every single answer you got so convoluted?

Sam had tried to act unbothered, but you saw how his hand froze as he stocked the shelves of the Mystery Shop. He looked at you with his bright smile and waved his free had dismissively.

"He's something alright, I'll give him that! He's an odd one, I guess you could say! What's with the interest, Starlight?" He answered, though a question for a question hardly satisfied you.

Crewel had outright ignored you, even after you had repeated your question several times he kept maneuvering around you and acting like he was busy. He absolutely wasn't, he had moved the same four beakers back and forth between lab tables three times. Once he realized you weren't going to take his hint and scram, he looked down his nose at you as if you had ruined his entire week.

"You know, puppies that never stop yapping are troublesome. But do you know what's even more troublesome, Little Scamp? Puppies that sniff around where they don't belong. You'd do well to train yourself out of that habit, and quickly." He'd told you coldly, which shocked you into a stupor because you had thought him overzealous but friendly just moments before.

You had hoped Trein, with his unflappability and no nonsense policy, wouldn't beat around the bush and would be the one to change your luck so far. Instead, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He seemed to be taking extra care to choose his words, as though they were fragile as glass slippers. Even Lucius looked still in his arms.

"He is a man, as am I, nothing more and nothing less. It is best to leave it at that, My Dear." He implored you gently, you couldn't help but feel this was as close to a plea as the stoic man would ever get. Lucius stared at you unblinkingly, as if trying to determine your answer through your eyes alone.

You hoped the cat couldn't actually tell, because your answer was no.

You still had one more shot. Vargas was loud and a bit much at times, but his love of his own voice would work in your favor. However, you had learned from your mistakes and decided getting straight to the point wasn't in your best interest. If everyone wanted to play with you, it was only right to join the game.

"Please, tell me more about your school days, Ashton! Were you really the star of the Magic Shift team?" You asked in an awed tone, eyes wide.

The coach was eating it up like it was his last meal, you had been stroking the man's ego for over two hours already and if he tells you about the goal that turned the playoffs around one more time you think you'll snap. But his defenses are down, and his lips are loose, so you'll grin and bare just a little longer.

"That's right! I was king of NRC, undisputed! There wasn't a soul on campus who didn't want to be mine!" The man boasted, "Well, except for Beth. She wasn't all there though, not that I cared! She wasn't all that, I'm not bitter about it!"

He's definitely bitter about it, but you don't have time to unpack that when your opening is right in front of you.

"Right right, I totally get it. Hey, speaking of the past, when did you meet Crowley?"

Okay, you lied. There wasn't an opening at all, you burst in with a sledgehammer. But your cutesy act was getting hard to keep up!

Vargas takes the sloppy bait though, " Oh, that guy? He just kinda popped up and offered me a job to be honest. The pays good, so I deal with the old coot being a weirdo."

You have to stop yourself from lighting up, "Weirdo?" You question dumbly, finger on your chin and all.

Vargas looks both ways and then gestures for you to come closer, you can't tell if he's being playful or not with that glint in his eyes.

"Look, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay Dolly? Crowley's got some crazy going on around here, I swear. I don't know details but I've got suspicions." The coach whispers, you nod eagerly for him to continue.

"There's this... room. I don't know what's in it, it's always locked and not even the staff master key opens it. He goes in there every Friday, and I don't see him come out, he just appears again Monday morning. There's this bright light that shines under the door whenever he goes in, and after a few seconds, it stops." Ashton explains, and it's more than you had hoped for.

Creepy locked room, disappearing act, unexplained happenings? This is exactly the dirt you've been looking for!

"He thinks he's being sneaky about it, but I caught on, see? I was following him to ask about a some paperwork and I saw it. I know somethings up, Crowley is up to no good and I don't care how crazy I sound." Ashton stresses, as he goes on he seems more serious, you can't take time to be happy about your findings because he looks so pale.

"Vargas, are you oka-"

"Listen Dolly, I know you're curious, but you don't want nothing to do with this and neither do I. Freaky shit is going down, and if you're smart like me you'll act like you don't know a thing."

You stare at him. H-Had he been on to you the whole time?

"I'm trying to help you, stay away from the west wing and don't-" He stops. His eyes are on something behind you.

"V-Vargas?" You call, shakily.

"I've said enough. Stay outta the west wing, Doll. For your own good."

You don't stay out of the west wing.

In fact, you deliberately seek it out. Ace gives you a funny look when you ask him, but he points you in the right direction anyway. You wish you were more embarrassed about being a member of staff asking students for directions, but you've got bigger fish to fry.

You know this isn't smart, no matter how harmless the headmaster may seem, no one likes being found out. But your life is in his golden-clawed hands and you'd feel even less smart following him blindly and hoping you're safe with him.

The west wing isn't what you expected (though to be fair you had been expecting a torture chamber), it's an entirely normal hall like all the others in school. It's so mundane your face falls. There's also no way to tell if anything is amiss from a glance alone, so you'll have to use less tact than you were hoping to. Making your way down the hall you turn each knob one by one to see which won't turn.

After about twenty or so doors, curse the long hallways in this college, you see one that's quite out of place. It's at the very end of the hall, how cliché, and while it is the same size and color as all the others, it's surrounded with a ridiculous number of portraits. There are big ones above the doorframe and little ones squeezed into the narrow spaces along the sides of it, and if that wasn't enough, the ones that wouldn't fit in either spot were enchanted to float nearby. And the portraits themselves are nothing like the silly but sweet ones that gossip as they watch over everyone who passes in the main building, these are painted with snarls and angered eyes. Both human and nonhuman beings are depicted, each one staring straight at whomever would stand in front of the door. Their eyes seem to be looking in every direction at once even though their pupils are painted straight ahead, it feels like they can see everything without shifting their gaze. You can't even tell if they're alive like the others, they're so... cold.

You take a deep breath, that must be it. You've come to this far, and you'd planned everything so carefully there was no reason to be afraid. The students were having Magift practice today, so that meant Vargas was busy, but it also meant that Crowley was doing his rounds and would stop to "give the players some good old fashioned encouragement ". He would go on forever, there was plenty of time for you to investigate and cover your tracks before he ever even wondered where you were.

You could admit the only person you were convincing was yourself, but it helped you forced your legs to move toward the end of the hall. Even as you walked closer, you knew you shouldn't, the air around you seemed like it was trying to force you back, oppressively pushing you with every step you took towards that door. You wouldn't be able to open it, Ashton had told you already, what exactly were you gaining, being stared down by the lifelike yet lifeless portraits as you neared the door? Nothing, and yet your hand grabbed the knob impulsively, you hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath until it left your lungs in a rush at the touch of icy cold iron in your clammy grip.

You shouldn't have touched it, you shouldn't have, now what? Your plan was to turn back after your curiosity was sated, but you couldn't. The force that was pushing back against you before was now pulling you forward, beckoning you. The portraits no longer looked like a warning, but an invitation. You've come so far, now come a little closer, something that wasn't a voice nor a thought breathed around you.

You twist the doorknob, like a fool.

It turns.

Your heart leaps with excitement and fear, and you feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body. You can go in, you can go farther!

You feel yourself smiling widely even though you're sure you're not happy, you go to push the door open just a little further.

You stop as four pinpricks upon your throat flare with pain, your eyes go wide like a deer and you freeze.

"Crewel was right, you're truly nothing but trouble."

The voice sounds familiar, and yet nothing like the person it belongs to. But you'd know those gold-tipped fingers anywhere.

"I really am getting on in years, to make such a mistake." Dire sighs, his voice does not lilt and his tone is low. He sounds like an actor who's given up on staying in character.

You catch a whimper in your throat when the hand upon it slides up the front of your neck to grip under your chin and rear you head back at a terrible angle. You meet the dead-eyed gaze of Crowley's mask as he looks straight down at you.

"But you've made an even bigger mistake, Youngling, by testing me."

You want to apologize, or plead for your safety, because the man looming over you is not the one you've grown reluctantly fond of. But because we have established that you are a fool, you say instead:

"Your vest is a mistake. There's sequins on it." You snark weakly, you sound pathetic, half because of the grade school insult and half because you're gasping for breath.

Dire stares down at you blankly. Then he grins, not his usual one full of jolly cheer, but a wide toothy one that is just a few degrees off from a sneer.

"Oh, you really think you're just the cutest little thing under the sun, don't you?" He asks, he chuckles halfway through but it's dry and dark.

Why are you so foolish, why do you speak?

Abruptly, the pressure points on your neck are released and you fall to your knees, gulping sweet sweet air.

"Well you're right! You're just adorable, thinking you could catch me out!" Dire shouts cheerfully, hands on his hips and accent back in full swing. His façade is back in place like it was never gone.

You stare in disbelief.

"You know, anyone else would have to be put under a curse of eternal silence for snooping around like you did." He continues, "But I am so very kind, I'm going to let you walk out of here without laying a finger on you."

You shakily get to your feet, leaning against the wall for support and as something to curl in on to cower from the overly happy man before you.

He stares at you smiling for many moments too long, you know he's trying to scare you and you're angry at yourself for being so. Abruptly, he nods.

"I'll be off then, I'm sure you get the message? Of course you do! Make your way back to your room then, off you get! Goodbye!"

The man walks away quickly, waving his hand in farewell.

He left you without a fight, with the door left unlocked and you still in position to reveal what was on the other side. You balk at the obvious show of his power over you.

He knew you were too terrified now, he knew you would obey him like a dog told to stay, the smug bastard.

You bite your lip in frustration and confused tears fill your eyes. You just want to know what's going on, you just want to go home! Nothing makes sense.

You look at the door that's slightly ajar.

Then at the exit of the west wing across the long hall.

You can no longer hear Crowley's footsteps.

And because you are a fool, and because you are defiant, and because you want some semblance of control, you make a mad dash through the door before you can change your mind.

[abyssal-memories-and-dreams]

Thanks for writing the first fanfic on leona x shy mc reader. If you don't mind but can do do with the fem shy mc with silver pls.

Hi, Luv! Thank you once again for the amazing request! I hope that this is to your fancy, it certainly took a while for me to finish!

Without further ado...

Silver x Shy! Fem! Reader! Under the Willow Tree

There was one place that you often visited during your free time at Night Raven College. A place that would calm you among all the Overblots and other dorm quarrels. A place that would allow you to avoid all the chaos in your newfound life as a magicless student, free from all the recklessness of the A-Deuce duo accompanied by your furry familiar, Grim. You would often visit this place after school as a way to avoid the loud crowds and bask in the sunny afternoons. It reached beyond Coach Vargas’ fields and towards the edge of NRC’s borders. It was a bit of a walk, but you didn’t mind. After all, the view was worth the journey.

You happened to take in that view as you took a stroll to that place. Despite walking for what felt like hours, you enjoyed the gentle spring breeze brushing up against your face. The way that the sunlight peered through the cracks of the trees’ leaves and brightened up the foliage gave you a calming sensation, welcoming you further into the forest. It was just a little bit longer, you remembered, until you reached it. That special place.

How you were able to find it was not just your doing. You see, you had a friend introduce you to this place one afternoon - which was quite a surprise given that you were certain you wouldn’t have even one friend. Even more so, in contrast to Ace and Deuce, your friend was more mature and much more responsible for his own actions. He was also quite stronger than your other friends, which made you wonder why he even talked to you at all. Maybe it was the pursuit of a destressing environment, maybe it was just an appreciation for nature. Whatever it was, you somehow were able to bond after school in the library. 

That was where you met your dear friend, Silver.

Yet, for some reason, the title of “dear friend” didn’t sit right with you when referring to him. You tried thinking of him as a “close ally” or a “cherished companion,” but neither did those terms sit right with you either. A little bit distraught at the notion that you couldn’t find something to call the silver-haired boy, but that didn’t really matter that much. After all, today you were just about to meet up with him at your special place.

It took a few more minutes before you finally found it - a wide patch of land where the sun gently kissed every blade of grass beyond the edges of the small, green landscape. Right in front of it was a pond where you would often see frogs and fish wander about and the occasional doe would step on the land for a sip of water. What was the most special about this place was right next to the pond, where a single great willow tree shaded the ground underneath. It was the perfect place for you to relax, lying your head against the tree bark as the shadows made it possible for you to read a book for hours on end. 

That was exactly what you were planning to do.

You rested your head against the bark, grabbing one of your textbooks from your book bag as you got comfortable. You made sure you were close enough to the pond to watch the fish swim aimlessly, though soon your mind centered on nothing but the book as you awaited Silver. After all, this was one of the only places you would hang out together. Even when you first met him, he was always busy with something. Whether it would be his studies, his duties as a knight-in-training, or any errand he had to do that day, you rarely got the chance to spend that much time together. But that's ok - you were hoping that he would show up anytime now.

Just two classmates hanging out - as friends - under a willow together. He’s sure to come eventually, you thought. Any minute now.

...

The sun was wavering against the horizon as the day drew closer to evening and night. You had finished reading the chapter you needed for your history class long ago, so you picked up another textbook and started to read that. Then another. Eventually, you ran out of books to read and put your attention on the fish in the pond. One, then two, then a red and an orange and a blue - all kinds of colors and shapes and sizes that mindlessly wandered the limited space. Your heart sinks more and more with each passing minute. It must’ve been hours since you’ve been here, so where was he? Did he forget? No, that couldn’t be - he’s usually very serious on timely manners. Did he doze off somewhere? Even so, he usually doesn’t sleep for that long. Then it hit you - a question that you dared yourself you wouldn’t think of, for it pained your heart ever so.

Did he not want to see you?

Was he getting bored of you ever since you first met, opting to leave you by yourself in the middle of a forest with no way of contacting you? Or were you so desperate for the fact that you found someone else to bond with that you couldn’t tell that he was being disingenuous with you? 

Was this some way of mocking you? 

Tormenting you? 

Did he pity you? 

Where was he?

Where was your friend? Your ally? Your companion? Your anything?

“Hey,” a soft voice came from ahead as your mind went elsewhere for a moment before jolting back to your reality. You looked in front of you just as a similar silver-haired boy walked in front of where you sat. Despite the skies turning darker as time drew on, you couldn’t mistake him.

Silver.

Your friend.

“Hello,” you muttered back. You tried sounding as friendly as you could, but couldn’t help but feel as though there was a bit of annoyance in your voice. You hoped you didn’t notice.

“I apologize for making you wait so long,” Silver said. “I was caught up in an incident and had to help calm things down.” Despite feeling a bit down about the fact that it was nearing nighttime, you had to understand where he was coming from.

“Was it another Overblot?” You asked.

“No, just Sebek.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “I had to separate him from another student who mocked Malleus’ name.”

“Was he trying to fight him?”

“Maybe, if I didn’t stop him. I had to promise that we would train to get his mind off the ordeal.”

There was a silence between you two that must’ve lasted a while. Despite now acknowledging the situation, your heart still weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t even look at him without unintentionally staring him in the face. You wondered what was going on inside his head right now, why you weren’t looking at him as you realized your heart was starting to race against your chest. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you, so what was this feeling just now?

“Hey, do you mind if I sit there?” He asked, pointing to the seat next to you. “Unless you were planning to go - I know it’s kind of dark out-”

“No, it’s fine,” you blurted out, incidentally scaring yourself. Why did you even say that?

You watched as Silver stared back at you for a brief moment before nodding in compliance, taking his place by your side against the willow. You smelled the smallest hint of sweat behind all the layers of his uniform, wondering how long it had been since he last trained. Your heart continued to beat more frequently as you realized how close you were to him. Wanting to avoid eye contact, you turned your attention back to the pond, realizing now that you were having a more difficult time seeing the fish.

“Do you like this place?” Silver asked, breaking the silence as you turned back to face him.

“Yes,” you simply said. “It’s wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” he responded. “This is one of my favorite places on campus.”

“I can tell,” you agreed. “It’s become mine, too.”

Another pause. You start to wonder if he could sense your heart beating at this point.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad someone can enjoy it like I do.” You nodded, but kept feeling a sense of dread in your gut. Unknowingly letting the thoughts from before plague your mind, you began to dissociate for a moment as questions plagued your mind again. Is he being genuine, or is this pity?

“Silver… why did you introduce me to this place?” Silver turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, I thought it was easy to understand - I thought that you would like it.”

“And if I didn’t?” Wait, what were you doing? Why ask these questions out loud?

“Well, if you didn’t, you didn’t - I don’t control what you like.”

“But would you think lowly of me for not sharing the same interest?” Silver turned to face you, bewildered.

“Why do you ask that? Of course not,” he responded. “Do you think of me that way?”

You turn back to face him, only to realize that your heartbeat banged in your eardrums the minute you stared into his eyes. “N-no, that wasn’t what wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” you stuttered. “I was just… wondering…” You tried finding the words, and you were so close, but your mind was blocking you for telling them a first.

“About what?” He asked. You sighed, finally breaking through your hazy mind to say what you wanted to say.

“Well, you’re trying to become a knight for one of this world’s most powerful wizards of this time. You probably have everything going for you - a good education, support from friends and family, everything. And me… well, I have nothing. No family, no magic… I’m an outsider. Probably what this world considers the bottom of the barrel here-”

“Wait-”

“And I understand that, it makes sense! I’m not meant to be here. I don’t know how I got here. I’m just hoping that Headmaster Crowley can find a way to get me back home so I can be where I belong,” you took a breath. “It’s just… I’m not special here. I don’t have any crazy powers or an insane upcoming to justify me being here. I’m just me. And I don’t get why someone like you - someone so special - would try and talk to me…”

Another pause filled the atmosphere as you both sat there, avoiding his gaze as he tried to find a response to that. Your heartbeat bumped so hard it might as well burst out of your chest this second. Why did you say that? He probably thinks of you as some weirdo now- wait, did he just laugh? You turn to face him again, and as you suspected, he started to laugh. Did something happen a few seconds ago?

“I-I’m sorry, was something I said funny?” You asked, wondering if you should be offended by this or not.

“No, not like that. I’m just surprised,” he said. “Why would you think I cared about something like that? Do you take me as someone so shallow?” Your cheeks blushed a dusty pink.

“Wait, no, I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” he interrupted. “I should be the one apologizing. First, I nearly miss out on our company together, then I don’t realize you harbor these feelings of self-doubt.”

“Hey, it’s not like it’s something out of your control.” You responded.

“But I made you feel that way, did I not? And I don’t want someone I care for to feel like that.”

You paused for a moment before comprehending his words. “You care for me?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not obvious? I ask if we could spend time together on multiple occasions-”

“Silver,” you interrupted, now facing another dilemma. “What do you think of me?”

He paused for a moment to stare at you, his cheeks now turning a dusty pink. What was this boy thinking?

“It’s kind of funny… that’s the reason I wanted to meet you here today,” he said. Your furrowed your eyes, wondering.

“Go on…”

“Ever since I met you that one time in the library, I admired how much you wanted to learn despite your environment. I thought you were smart, and I wanted to believe you were kind. But you always kept to yourself most of the time, and I didn’t know how to approach you. I even went to ask my old man about it, which led me to the realization that I should introduce you to this place.”

You slowly nodded, taking in his words. “So we started hanging out here instead…”

“Correct. At first, I thought I wanted to do it just for platonic purposes, but… I soon realize myself growing fonder of you.”

Your heart felt like it couldn’t take much more than it already was. Was this what you thought it was? “Silver…”

He laid his hand on top of yours. “(Y/N),” he said. “What I’m trying to ask is this. Would you like to continue this relationship further?”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t mean…” He nodded. “But what about your duties? What’s the rest of the dorm gonna think?”

“I don’t think they would mind that much. I just don’t wanna pressure you into this relationship,” He looked to the side, poorly hiding his blush away. But for that alone, you couldn’t help but smile, bringing your free hand to his cheek as you intertwined your fingers in his, causing him to look back surprised by your actions.

“Silver, there is nothing more I would want now than to stand by you. Of course I’ll accept your offer.”

Silver’s eyes lit up in joy, a smile appearing on his face as well as he looks relieved by your answer. “You have no idea how happy you made me just now, (Y/N)...”

“I could say the same to you,” you responded. He chuckled, his forehead now closer to yours as he gripped your hand a little bit tighter. His eyes started to dart back and forth for a moment, his blush growing darker. “Hey,” he said. “Do you mind if we…?” He couldn’t finish his question, but his body language said it all. Despite your face flaring up as well, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course.”

Silver smiled once more as you timidly brought your face closer to his, your free hand now resting on his shoulder. Under the gaze of the moonlight that peeked through the cracks of the willow’s leaves and branches, only a few could’ve seen what was going on. The way that you kissed in almost complete darkness brought a sense of security for both of you, and now knowing that you two felt the same way, you understand that this moment might not certainly be the last. After all, you finally found a title to call the boy.

Yes, your dearest love, Silver - that sounds amazing for him.

[just2bubbly]

Celebrity Crush

Masterlist

Summary

“Did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad?��

This revolves around Kaider but from Torin's POV and Peony here refers to Kai and Cinder's child.

When Peony (gen 2) comes up with a very strange question to Torin!

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1590 words

Torin’ perspective-

"Torin-da, did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad?" The six-year-old asked the royal advisor with wonder-waiting eyes.

The Advisor on the other hand was very much panicked, wondering how the young princess got to know about the word 'crush'. He suspected she had picked on this word from one of her visit to Carswell Thorne. He wanted to rub the fact that 'Sending his daughter to Mr Thorne was not the best decision' in Emperor Kaito's face- but he would do no such thing.

"Where did you learn the word 'crush' Peony?" he asked dodging her previous question.

"Uh-.. Actually, Uncle Thorne said that Aunt Cress had a crush on him, so I just searched what the word meant." She said avoiding eye contact, just like any child caught red-handedly stealing from the jar of cookies would do.

"I don't think you should look into words like 'crush' as the age of 6" he warned, collecting his stuff to leave.

"But Torin-da, I am about to turn 7 next month" she swore, running off to block him from leaving away.

"Well, that does not make you any older to know about the word, young lady." He said with a bit of grand-fatherly authority to his voice. Not necessarily that he was scolding the curious child; she was hardly the one being scolded because of her cute actions and sweet voice.

"Torin-da but what of my earlier question?" she asked her voice full of determination.

"Why don't you go and ask Kaito?" he suggested, obviously playing the child around. He remembered how even Kai had taken up liking to the word 'shit' when he had heard President Vargas saying it. He had pestered Torin with his questions for weeks but due to royal protocol, Torin faced his curiousness with nothing but an emotionless face. At last, he had gone to former Emperor Rikan, who had laughed at Kai and explained a few things to the young prince, years ago.

"Torin-da!" she shouted in his face to get his attention, "Did Mommy have a celebrity crush on Dad?" she continued.

"Why do you think that?" he cross-questioned the little princess who was set on a mission to know if Cinder had a crush on Kai.

"Well, you see Mommy was a mechanic before she became the Queen and Dad- well he was THE PRINCE, so he was a celebrity" she explained slowly as if explaining two plus two equals four to a child. Even though little Peony looked like Cinder, she had taken after Kai in all ways possible. She had picked up her parent's sarcasm like she would not. However, her speaking style, her small conquests in the Palace reminded Torin too much of little Kai.

"Your Mommy was the Princess of Luna too, Peony. Why would she have a crush on Kai?"

She stared at him with a look of confusion upon that remark, another one of Kai's speciality again. After what felt like a few minutes of silence, she blamed, "Torin-da you are fooling me around. I can see through it. Tell me did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad? "

He sighed realizing that it was going to be one interesting afternoon with little Peony. Hence, he decided to keep his work aside for some time and sat down with the little child on the nearby sofa.

"You see Peony darling, I think it was the other way around." He stated.

"Meaning?" she asked, her curiosity perked up, now that Torin was giving her his full attention.

"I mean that Daddy had a celebrity crush on Mommy!" he exclaimed to the very confused child.

"Really?" she asked with her eyes full of doubt, she was only believing it because the royal advisor was saying things.

"Yeah," he said with the same wondrous tone as that of the six- soon-to-be seven-year-old.

"You are saying that Mommy was Daddy's celebrity crush growing up?" she asked to confirm with her wide brown eyes.

Torin nodded. He waited to continue till she had digested this new piece of information.

"Actually Kai idolized your Mom for some amount of time and he was so in love with her." He said, wondering if Peony was interested to hear about her parents or for that matter, her parent's love life or was he over-stepping some of his boundaries-

"Continue Torin-da! And what do you mean by idolizing?" she crowed, cutting short his train of thought.

"Idolize means someone who they want to be like-as in worship or admiring Peony" he explained to the child who had yet time to master the vast oceans of the English language.

This unknown information seemed to increase her curiosity ten folds. The little child had no idea how Kai had a crush the size of Luna on the young princess Selene and later on mechanic Cinder, who turned out to be the same person. He internally smiled- wondering what a calamity it would have been if Selene and Cinder would not be the same person!

She subtly asked, "But why would The Emperor idolize a mechanic?"

"Peony," he said somewhat scolding the child, "all jobs are important, just because the emperor is famous does not mean that the mechanic is not an important part of the society. Your mother was the best one in the entire New Beijing. I am not sure but I think she is yet the Best Mechanic in the city."

"Sorry", she muttered under her breath while he continued with his narration. The six-year-old had no idea what her parents had gone through. They had yet decided against telling her about their hardships, so he decided to keep the descriptions at the minimum.

"Your Mom was a Hero for the world. You might not know it, but she saved the world even while being a mechanic- She was brave. Your Dad liked her for that, he admired her bravery. Later, when your mom was fighting against evil, your dad could not help her but that did not stop him from thinking of her every single second."

"Torin-da, are you saying Dad liked Mom before her?" she asked now seeing the entire scenario in an entirely different light.

"I guess yes." He confirmed, smilingly at the little child's innocence to understanding her parent's life.

"As far as I remember, Kai was completely blinded by his love for the scrawny mechanic he had seen in a garage, which would be your Mom, Peony"

"Did he talk about Mom to you, when she was being a hero?" she blurted.

"Not exactly, he just thought about her. I was not very fond of your Mom back then." He confessed.

"Why? Mom is so lovely!" she exclaimed, already defending The Empress.

"We had different thoughts and I did not know her back then but it would be a story for another day, Peony."

She nodded, obviously not liking things being kept hidden from her. She was a born seeker for information- especially her parents. Why everyone adored them was much of a mystery to her until recently!

"Torin-da, I want to confirm so Dad liked Mom as a mechanic and not as a Lunar Queen?" she asked.

"Absolutely! He had that-"

"Celebrity crush!" she provided, clapping her hands.

Laughing at the child's antics, he said, "Yeah, your Dad had a 'Celebrity crush' on Mom."

"I am going to tell Mom this- Bye Torin-da!" She said running off to find Cinder. Peony looked like someone who had just learned a dear secret and was about to break it off to their best friend. She had no idea how her mom already knew that. The Emperor might still have a celebrity crush on his wife, he will never know.

Collecting his things, he was ready to walk out of the chamber. Until, the Emperor walked on him, a look of amusement on his face.

"Torin, "

"Your Majesty-" he said out of habit, doubting that Kai might have heard the entire conversation between the two.

"-I had a celebrity crush on Cinder?"

"Oh! Please Kaito, the child insisted to know the truth. Besides you do have a crush on Cinder."

"Stop telling my daughter that, Torin," he said, the tip of his ears slightly turning red.

"Well Peony might have guessed it sooner rather than later, Your Majesty-' he said, grinning at the Emperor.

"And if I were you I would stop her before she goes to The Empress," he advised.

"There's nothing to hide about what Cinder already knows of. However, if she comes to me lecturing about morals and values that Peony should learn, I am definitely sending her to you, Torin"

It was another interesting afternoon for the royal advisor with his new student. Only God knew how many more were to come yet!

__

A/N: This was not actually Kaider fluff but Kaider fluff at the same time and I also wanted to write something from Torin's perspective so here's my take. I think it turned out pretty good. I had to actually ask my cousin if he knew meanings of words like 'admire' or 'idolize' to figure out if Peony would know them. Torin-da was supposed to mean like ‘dada’ used in the sense of grandfather in many Asian countries. Phew! things I have to do for imagining things!

Be sure to like, reblog and comment, if you like it!

[bytheangell]

Wherever You Stray, I Follow

(SH re-watch inspired fic: S01E07) (Read on AO3)

Matching tattoos. It’s what Detective Vargas said to Clary at the sight of the runes on both her and Jace, and she hadn’t thought much about it in the moment, too stressed over Luke and paranoid about getting caught herself to really dwell on the implications. But now that the immediate danger has passed, Clary finds a few quiet moments really survey the runes on Jace. Then she begins to catalog the runes that now mark her own body.

She realizes that she’s only ever added them as they were needed, rushed and impulsive and occasionally without her own say, like the iratze on her neck. Most of the time she barely knew what the rune did before drawing it, let alone have the understanding and time to really plan their placements. She relied partially on instinct in those moments, yes, but mostly on what she’s seen - mostly on Jace. After taking a few seconds to glance at the rune on Jace she’d then copy it onto herself, at least the ones she hadn’t needed Jace to draw on her. After repeating that process quite a few times over the past couple of days, Clary realizes she’s making her body a sort of mirror of Jace’s, in a way.

It’s only now starting to sink in how these now very permanent parts of herself are so heavily influenced by Jace. She thinks back to the way he trained her, however briefly, to use the seraph blade, so that her motions mimicked his own. She thinks about her knowledge of the Shadow World and how most of it was explained by Jace, with the others still too unsure of her to trust her with too much information. She thinks about the demon that took Jace’s form to trick her, and how she already knew him well enough to be certain of her gut instinct that it wasn’t him.

Clary wonders if it should scare her (or at the very least concern her) how quickly she’s come to embrace Jace’s influence (and Jace himself) into her life. He’s important to her and she’s surprised, yes, but not frightened to realize how implicitly she trusts him. She doesn’t know a single thing about this world she stumbled into, but she doesn’t doubt a single word out of Jace’s mouth about it. She just… she just knows he’s looking out for her, that his concern is genuine and not just for show.

She also knows that the same goes for his belief in her, however misguided the others seem to think it is. One look at Jace, one second of experiencing the warmth and relief and sense of protection the mere sight of him brings her amidst the swirling chaos of her mind, and she feels the tension in her body ease as her thoughts settle. Every time she thinks she can’t do something, he makes it seem manageable. Every time she feels overwhelmed he reassures her that it is a lot, rather than telling her to suck it up, and eases her through it.

She doesn’t have a word for it, because it isn’t something she’s ever experienced before. If she’s feeling particularly dramatic she might liken it to the idea of a soulmate, of a person you’re destined to gravitate towards until they fill every small spot you ever felt something was missing in, but that’s absurd. That’s… really fucking accurate, though. She wonders how much of the sense of belonging, the sense of being seen that she feels right now, is because of where she is or because of who she’s with. How much of it is learning about her past and how much is the fact that Jace is the one looking at her as she does, seeing her as she learns to see herself?

Jace catches her staring, lost in her thoughts, and arches a curious eyebrow. Clary looks away for a moment, pauses, then slowly makes her way over to him, allowing the instinct that’s carried her this far to continue to pull them closer together.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 22: Convergence

Adam is sent to Daibazaal to research and eavesdrop. He totally does those things.

First  Previous  Next

Adam sits in a Daibazaani medical library, digging through records and case studies, nutritional guides and texts on growth spurts, season, and prenatal care. It’s tedious work, and most of it is only applicable to your average Galra, not one with a growing disorder. He'll gather data on what he can, and use it to make inferences in regards to what he can't.

He hasn't heard a single word. Not a whisper. Whatever rumors Lanval spoke of, they're either not here, or someone has gone to great lengths to make sure he doesn't hear about it. Figures. It's probably just some nonsense a few courtiers made up to entertain themselves. What a waste of time.

“I was told you were here.”

Adam looks up, adjusting his reading glasses to better see- “Takashi? What are you doing here?”

The captain smiles, stepping into the room ears-first. “I’ve taken some leave. I’m just out of my season and need a few days to recover.”

“Your- Oh, yes, of course. I forgot. You’re like Keith.”

“Yes. So what brings you to Daibazaal? Please, I’m so bored.”

Adam looks Shiro up and down. He seems quite tired, thinner than he remembers. Instead of leaning in the doorway of the reading room, he’s now leaning against the desk. “It seems boredom might be a good idea, given how you’re unwilling to stand for any length of time.”

“Season is… exhausting.”

A thought occurs to Adam, staring at Shiro. He sits back. “Tell me more. Lance sent me here in person to research such things, so a first-hand account could be invaluable.”

"I suppose. Why in person?"

"He wants me to keep my ears to the walls, listen for signs of unrest. That's all I'll say on the matter."

“Understandable. Well, it’s one of those things people don’t talk about…” Shiro’s smile widens. “But I don’t think it would do any harm. When you’re in season, you’re in this sort of haze. Time holds little meaning and your thoughts aren’t coherent. It can feel like it’s been days when it’s been minutes and minutes when it’s been days. You’re uncomfortable, like a fever but without the temperature. You forget to eat and drink, except for moments of extreme thirst. You’re ah, you’re wet, between your legs and you ache there. You can divine the rest of that.”

“So you what, lie in a daze and wait for a pack of other Galra to come ravage you?” Adam raises an eyebrow, frowning at the Galra.

Shiro laughs, displaying sharp teeth. “No, nothing like that. My gods, you Alteans really do think us animals, don’t you? Well, I wait for that, yes. But to say every sire within a certain radius is fighting for a chance to put a kit in me is absurd!

Our species mates for life, and we only ever have one mate. It’s an incredibly powerful bond, not something to be trivialized. You don’t choose someone at random. First mating while one of you is in season forges the strongest bond possible, but even then, it’s something decided beforehand, when actual consent can be given. When you do have a mate, they’re there to care for you, ensure you do not suffer too harshly. Everything else is meant to come second. ”

Adam stares, sighs. “Well, that was far more useful than everything I have read in the last six vargas. You have my thanks.”

Shiro simply smiles, one ear twitching as Adam types furiously on his datapad. “You really are a strange one. Not like the rest of your species.”

“No, I am not. My people are a foppish, silly gaggle of overgrown children who know little of the harshness this universe has to offer. Those who do are soldiers, and they have seen things they do not wish to speak of.”

“Alteans have never experienced invasion. They have the luxury of feeling safe in their homes.”

“A luxury indeed,” Adam murmurs. Silence stretches on for some time before Shiro speaks again.

“I think it’s high time you see something of Daibazaal's beauty, as opposed to our launchpad and the library.” Shiro stands, offers the slender Altean his arm.

Adam stares at it. “Where will we go?”

“Out of the city. Something… exceptionally rare is about to happen. I’d like for you to witness it with me. Besides, I could use the fresh air.”

“Seems to me what you could really use is a big meal and a good sleep.” Adam looks Shiro up and down, hazel eyes registering… hope. Shiro’s hopeful. He very much wants Adam to come with him. It’s enough to make him blush. He’s not used to this. “V- Very well.”

Adam cautiously takes the Galra captain’s arm. Shiro grins, visibly delighted.

They walk through darkened streets, the citizens still out of their dens, loose clothing drifting on a light breeze as they let pets out, fetch water, watch their children chase some kind of luminescent, flying reptile. It’s quiet, getting quieter by the minute. There’s a certain anticipation humming in the air.

The people watch as they pass by, glances giving way to stares as a well-dressed Altean walks by with a large Galra clearly fresh out of season. Adam ignores their gazes, looks straight ahead. The farther they go, the more red structures give way to red earth and scraggly plants. There is beauty here, Adam believes, if only his people could learn to appreciate something different. Perhaps it’s beautiful because it’s different.

“How has my… ‘brother’ -I think that’s the word- been these last few phoebs? He’s written to me, but it’s difficult to tell if he’s lying in writing.”

“He’s adjusting well. He’s begun training select men in combat on Alfor's orders. He threw a man across the room for disrespecting him. Lance particularly enjoyed it… Lance is the one beginning to struggle, I think."

“How so?”

“He’s essentially raising his spouse. It makes him uncomfortable. He said the other day it almost feels like he’s grooming him or manipulating him.”

Shiro throws his head back with a laugh. “Well you can tell your prince that there’s not a person alive that can groom or manipulate my brother into anything. He’s a stubborn little brat that does exactly what he wants. He follows orders because he chooses to. If he disagrees, he doesn't follow.”

“Sounds like he does what he wants either way.” Adam finds himself smiling at the humor, the fondness in Shiro’s voice as he talks about the youth he calls his brother.

“Exactly.” Shiro’s smile turns sly as they pass the last of the dens. “You know… there’s really only one reason I can think of that Lance would worry about such a thing.”

“And what reason is that?”

“They’re growing close.”

“They are, though independently from one another. Both are laboring under the delusion that they’re the only one developing feelings. Which begs the question: How can two strikingly intelligent, beautiful people be so singularly stupid?”

“A question for the moons. Speaking of which, we’re here. Sort of.”

In front of them is a rickety-looking bridge, wood and vines strung together, ends wrapped and woven around a pair of boulders on either side. They’re standing on the edge of a massive chasm. Leaning over, Adam can see water far, far below. “Hypothetical question: If I were to be thrown off this bridge, would I survive?”

“No. But don't worry. I won't let that happen. Now come on. You're about to see something incredibly rare and unbelievably beautiful.” Shiro somehow manages to slip Adam’s hand down to his own, guiding him onto the bridge. Adam hesitates, though he’s not sure if it’s due to the warm hand fully encompassing his or to the terrifying drop below. “You’re safe, Adam. I promise.”

Adam meets Shiro’s gray eyes, sees a smile there, takes a deep breath, takes a step. The bridge creaks beneath his feet, but he barely notices, following those ears that are always following him. Once they reach the middle of the bridge, Shiro does something almost as horrifying as being thrown off the bridge: he sits, tugs Adam down beside him.

Shiro sighs, swings his legs back and forth over the edge. He’s gazing straight ahead, fur glistening in pale moonlight. Adam follows his gaze, eyes growing wide. Two moons, enormous and full, hover over the canyon, nestled perfectly between its walls. As they watch, the silver moon begins to cover the golden one.

“Wow.”

“Tonight is a complete superimposition. Thanks to actual mass and some weird science stuff involving magnetic somethings and polarity and other stuff I don’t understand, we’re fortunate that our little system is stable with moons this size. And that superimposition won’t destroy us all. Instead it’s just… remarkably beautiful.”

Adam watches, sitting silent, the drop below forgotten as the two moons find the same center, blindingly bright, outshining the stars. Subconsciously, he leans perhaps a spot to the left, head and shoulder resting against Shiro’s side. He's not sure if he wants to keep his eyes open and watch or close them and savor the moment.

“Better than your research?” Shiro murmurs.

“Much better. Although if anyone asks, I never left the library.”

“Of course not. You only care about your work... Thank you for joining me.”

Adam hums, eyes half-closed as the moons gently slide past one another, quiet and discreet, rising high into the sky. It's a fleetingly short display, like an eclipse. He has no more reason to stay here, now that the show is over, but he finds himself unwilling to move, soaking up the warmth of Shiro’s body as more and more warmth leeches from the seemingly arid planet.

“We should get back before we freeze. It’s only gonna get colder.”

Adam sighs, nods, sits up so Shiro can stand. The moment is well and truly over, and worldly concerns -like hypothermia- have returned. Yet something lingers, hovering between them like warmth as they return to their realities.

It lingers as Adam returns tirelessly to his research, as Shiro brings him something to eat. When Adam finally surrenders to his burning eyes and aching head, he realizes that Shiro never left. He’s still there, asleep with his head on the desk.

For the first time in his life, Adam’s not sure what to do. So he leaves a note, steals some tablets, goes home. Wheeling his craft around for one last glance, he gets a ping on his comms device.

See you soon?

-Takashi

Adam bites his lip. He knows far better than this. Nobility though he may be, he's the crown prince's attendant. It's not his place to go fooling around with captains. And yet...

Hopefully

-Adam

The sad part is, Adam really is hopeful. This is going to be a major pain in his ass.

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E8: Clear Day

Season 8 Episode 8: Clear Day

Transcribed by @dragonofyang

Summary: The crew on the IGF-Atlas spends some time on planet Drazan during Clear Day to unwind, meanwhile Allura stays onboard and discovers that nothing ever truly disappears, and that there is power still that can turn the tide of the war.

[Google Doc]

Allura: Tavo, I want to thank you for speaking with me.

Tavo: Forgive me, Princess Allura, but we don’t have much time.

Allura: I’m sorry?

Tavo: Please. Once Honerva discovers I’m speaking with you, it will be over.

Allura: Slow down. What are you trying to--?

Tavo: Listen to me. Now that she has Lotor, she will use him to destroy everything--

Allura: Tavo! Wait! I feel something.

Sam: Get them out of there! Reverse the magnetic polarity once the room is cleared. The impulse prism might just stabilize the foreign object.

[Scene change to Sam and Allura observing the dark entity in its container.]

Sam: This unit uses the ship’s crystal to energize the optronic vacuum casing. It was designed to contain diseases, but it should suffice until we find a more permanent solution.

Allura: Thank you, Sam. That thing, it was as if it was communicating with me. Whatever this is, it might be how Honerva connects to the Alteans.

Sam: Perhaps you should get some rest. It’s best if everyone stays away from this until we learn more about… Allura?

Allura: You’re right. Best to stay away.

[Scene change to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Garrison Officer: Captain, I’m picking up an abnormal signal from planet Drazan in the zeta-three sector.

Shiro: Open a hailing frequency. We need to find out what’s going on.

Veronica: Copy.

Shiro: This is Takashi Shirogane of the Voltron--

Burr: Well, if it isn’t the Voltron Coalition. And here I was thinking you were afraid to show your face after ruining the last Clear Day.

Coran: Yes, sorry about that. That was--that was on me.

Shiro: We noticed a lot of activity on your planet’s surface. Are you in danger?

Burr: Opposite! We’re celebrating Clear Day!

Coran: Hang on, isn’t Clear Day four movements from now?

Burr: Time dilation, you snarflaf! It’s right now. So unless you’d like to waste more of my time, I need to get back.

Shiro: Are you sure hosting a celebration is safe? This sector has seen a lot of hostile activity lately.

Burr: Oh, here we go. I knew this was coming. In fact, I just told my wife. I said to her, “Just you wait. You don’t know them the way I do. They promise to show up. You tell everyone that Voltron is coming to Clear Day. Everyone gets excited. Then Voltron never arrives, and you’re left with your top two paws stuck in the rocks!”

Shiro: We don’t wanna ruin your holiday, but we’re concerned--

Burr: We’re having Clear Day, and that is that! If you’re so worried about our safety, then how about you show up and provide security? Free of charge!

Shiro: Veronica, make an announcement to the Atlas. We’re going to Clear Day.

[Scene change to Allura’s quarters, where Lance and Allura are cuddling in bed.]

Lance: Are you sure you don’t wanna head down to the carnival? I’m pretty sure the Swathian Meerakeet won’t try to eat us.

Allura: I’m sure. I haven’t been feeling well, especially after what happened to Tavo. I need to rest.

Lance: Right. Well, I could stay here with you, keep you company if you want.

Allura: Please, go have fun. Maybe you can win me a prize. Something sparkly?

Lance: Yeah, okay. Winning prizes is kinda my specialty. I am a sharpshooter, after all.

[Scene change to several ships flying to the surface of Drazan.]

Shiro: I want you all to enjoy yourselves today. The celebration ends in five vargas. It’s important to remember that while the Atlas patrols the skies, we are the eyes and ears on the ground looking for any suspicious activity. These people are relying on us.

Coran: I pulled some strings and got each of you ten complimentary Clear Day tokens. Use them for games, foods, rides--

Pidge: Where’s Allura?

Lance: She’s going to stay back and rest. I just need to find something to bring back for her.

Pidge: That’s nice of you, Lance. I’ll help, too.

Hunk: Me three.

Keith: Let’s remember why we came here in the first place: to provide security for the event.

Pidge: Right. Well, I better go find the arcade and make sure it’s safe, yeah!

Lance: Uh, me, too!

Hunk: Me three!

Coran: Uh, wait for me!

Shiro: Keith, relax. Go have fun.

Keith: If we’re not here for protection, then what are we even doing here?

Shiro: Morale on the Atlas is low after what happened on Oriande. Who knows? A few hours at the carnival might just give us the boost we need to get back on track.

[Scene change to Allura laying in bed.]

Allura: Lance? What are you doing here?I thought you were going to the carnival.

Dark Entity (as Lance): That’s a beautiful flower. Where did you get it?

Allura: Colleen gave it to me. It’s a real juniberry flower. I assumed they had gone extinct.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You should know better than anyone, nothing ever truly goes extinct. It’s good to see you again, Princess.

Allura: How? How did you get in here?

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You know, the ancients believed that all of life began with a single juniberry flower. I thought you’d be happy to see me.

Allura: What are you doing here? I demand to know!

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You and I desire the same thing. We both seek to destroy Haggar.

Allura: Haggar? Haggar is no longer. She’s Honerva now.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): True, though I could rename this a highlands poppy, you and I would both know what it truly is. The witch may change her name, but she will always be a witch.

Allura: Be that as it may, she’s too powerful. There’s nothing I can do to counter her abilities.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You are mistaken. Everything you need is here.

Allura: How?

Dark Entity (as Lotor): This entity holds the power you seek. It is an ancient form of energy that predates time itself. It hails from the Quintessence Field. Entities like this gave Haggar the ability to conquer worlds and control the universe for ten thousand years. She recognizes the strength it provides her, and she uses it. If you can become one with the entity, then the powers you gain can defeat the witch.

[Scene change to a vision of Altea.]

Dark Entity (as Melenor): Allura.

Allura: Mother!

Dark Entity (as Melenor): I am so happy you’re here. You have arrived just in time.

Allura: Just in time? For what?

Dark Entity (as Melenor): To save us. Only you can protect us.

Dark Entity (as Melenor): I am so proud of you.

[Cut to Allura waking up in bed.]

Allura: It--it’s okay. It was only a dream.

[Cut to Pidge in the arcade.]

Arcade Game: I’m Coran, Coran, the non-truth telling man. Pick up that mallet and bomp me on the cranker before I can tell you a lie. Bomp me enough times and you’ll win a great prize!

Pidge: Yeah-ha-ha!

Arcade Game: Ah! No! Come on! See here! Stop it!

[Cut to a big-top tent as Shiro enters.]

Burr: Well, look who decided to actually show up.

Shiro: Good to see you, too, Burr.

Burr: Couldn’t help but notice the Blue Lion ain’t here. That’s fine. Can’t expect Voltron to completely follow through on their promises.

Shiro: What’s going on over here?

Burr: That’s the arm wrestling contest. It ain’t for people like you.

Shiro: Why is that? Because of my arm?

Burr: No. Arm wrestling is for the young and strong. You’re old, like me. Those kids would break you in half, mechanical arm or not.

Shiro: Is it too late to sign up?

Burr: Mm, I’m sure we could work something out.

[Scene change to a screaming Drazan on a stage.]

Host: Nice job, Glurry. Very respectable scores. Not bad at all. Now for our next contestant in the yalmor calling competition, please welcome Corin!

Coran: Right, then. Just do what Pop-Pop taught you to do.

[Scene change to Hunk sampling something on a stick.]

Keith: Look, guys, I just wanna know if you’ve seen anything suspicious.

Drazan Girl: Well, there is one weirdo who’s going around and bothering people about if they’ve seen anything suspicious.

Keith: Okay, that’s a start. Did you get a good look at… It’s me, isn’t it?

Hunk: Hey-o! Whatcha doing, Keith? Making new friends? Sweet. You know, it’s good to see you finally letting your guard down.

Keith: I wasn’t making friends.

Ride Operator: Next! Come on, you’re holding the line up! Let’s go!

Hunk: The line? Line for what?

Woman: Yeah, get out of here!

Man: What’s taking so long? Move!

Hunk: Oh. Uh, no, no. You don’t understand. I don’t like rides.

Ride Operator: Then, why were you in line?

Keith: We didn’t know it was a line!

Ride Operator: Likely story. Keep your hands and feet in the mouth at all times. You use ‘em, you lose ‘em. Have a blissfully burrowful time.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] We burrow every day! Underground is where we stay, waiting for the time to say, “Clear Day, Clear Day!”

Hunk: This is awesome!

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day!

Hunk: Huh?

Ride Operator over PA: Sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll get this thing up and running in a tick. In the meantime, stay in your burrow buggy. And remember, have a blissfully burrowful time.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day!

Keith: I gotta get out of here.

[Scene change to the arcade where a Drazanite child receives a purple lion toy.]

Drazan Child: Oh!

Lance: Voltron doesn’t have a Purple Lion.

Game Operator: Wanna play? All you gotta do is throw one of these rings onto one of them sticks. Win one for your special someone?

Lance: You got any Blue Lions? I used to be the Blue Lion’s Paladin and now my girlfriend is, so it’s--it’s kind of our thing.

Game Operator: Oh, is that right? Let me see. I happen to have a one-of-a-kind, collector’s edition blue mechanical flying feline.

Lance: Perfect! How much? They only gave us ten of these token thingies.

Game Operator: Oh, wonderful! Ten tokens is exactly how much it costs to play the game!

Lance: Did these rings shrink?

Game Operator: Oh, no, friend. They just look smaller in your strong, muscular hands.

Lance: Hm.

Game Operator: Oh! So close. Care to try again?

Lance: Oh, this game is rigged! And I don’t have any more tokens.

Game Operator: Well, perhaps we can make a deal.

[Scene change to Pidge at a counter with a mountain of tickets in front of her.]

Pidge: What’s the best prize you have?

Prize Counter Girl: Every prize is the best prize, and everyone goes home a winner.

Pidge: Okay, but say I was giving the prize to a princess.

Prize Counter Girl: For a princess? Behold.

Pidge: I’ll take it!

Prize Counter Girl: Sure, but you’re gonna need about twice as many tickets as this.

Pidge: But I don’t have any more tokens.

Prize Counter Girl: Well, in that case, you could get one of these shovels and use it to dig your way out of the hole you find yourself in.

Pidge: I’ll find a way to get more tickets.

[Scene change to a shooting game where the MFE pilots are playing then to the arm-wrestling contest.]

Shiro: May the best man win.

Alien: Who are you calling a man?

Man: Alright!

Man 2: Yeah!

[Cut to the Holts at a photo booth.]

Pidge: Dad, I ran out of tokens!

Sam: Well, that’s what happens when you waste it all on--

Pidge: Dad!

Sam: Okay. How much do you need?

Pidge: How much do you got?

Colleen: You’ll have to earn them. I want a family picture.

Pidge: I’ll take the picture, but I pick the costume.

Colleen: I get to add one accessory and you have to smile.

Pidge: Half-smile.

Colleen: You’ve got yourself a deal.

Photographer: Say “Clear Day”!

All: Clear Day!

Colleen: I want another picture. Katie isn’t smiling.

Pidge: Sorry! Gotta go do paladin stuff!

[Scene change to the dark entity’s holding chamber.]

Allura: It’s been here the entire time.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): Everything you need, the ability you’ve been seeking, within your grasp. Go ahead, Allura. Free it.

Allura: I can’t. I won’t.

Dark Entity (as Lance): It won’t do any harm. The entity will help you. It will save all of us.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): Take it.

Allura: No. No. This is not real!

Dark Entity (as Melenor): Only you can save us all. Release the entity.

Dark Entity (as Melenor and Honerva): Come home to Altea.

Dark Entity (as Honerva): Join us.

Lotor: Follow me!

[Scene change to Hunk and Keith in the ride.]

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] We burrow every day! Underground is where we stay, waiting for the time to say, “Clear Day--

Ride Operator over PA: Looks like everything is in order. We apologize for the delay. Again, have a blissfully burrowful time.

Keith: Finally.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day--

Keith: That’s it! I’m getting out of here. You coming?

Hunk: Can we come back when the ride gets fixed? I wanna see how it ends. Aw, man. Alright, wait up! Oh… where are we?

Emcee: Ladies and burrowmen, this is it! Only two remain in the yalmor calling competition. Who will be our champion?

Keith: Is that Coran?

Coran: She’s done a twist on the Flogarian technique. She’s good, really good.

Emcee: Wow! A blagmore and two durgises. That score is gonna be hard to beat.

Center Judge: Just gorgeous.

Emcee: Three blagmores! The top prize for the best squoozle of the day goes to Corn-man Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe!

[Cut to a close up of a Blue Lion plush.]

Lance: And that’s the last one.

Vendor: Here you go.

Coran. Nice plushie!

Lance: Nice trophy!

Pidge: Look what I got for Allura. I bet she’s really gonna dig it.

Keith: Where’s Shiro?

[Scene change to the arm wrestling competition stage.]

Burr: Ladies and burrowmen, are you ready to crown an arm wrestling champion? First up is our challenger, former Paladin of Voltron and the current captain of the IGF-Atlas. Hailing from some tiny planet no one has ever heard of. It’s Shiro! And our reigning champion, who needs no introduction, let’s hear it for the Warden!

Warden: You!

Burr: Friend of yours?

Shiro: Not exactly.

Warden: You and your little friends took away my livelihood.

Shiro: You held an innocent person prisoner to help the Galra Empire. I’d gladly do it again.

Warden: Look, I know I did some bad things. The truth is, I thought you guys ruined my life, but, really, you saved me. After I stopped working for the Galra, I was at a low point, but then I found arm wrestling, and it helped me realize what’s most important in my life. Win or lose, thank you. Now, let’s put on a show!

Coran: Rip his arm off! Rip his arm off!

Pidge: You got this!

Warden: You’re alright, Shiro.

[Scene change to Allura, laying unconscious in the room where the Dark Entity was being held.]

Sam: Allura! Allura, are you okay?

End.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAPR PRT 2 DRAFT... its already just under 6k. shoulder i cut it here then save the real nazty stuff for the next chapter?

Keith was tired. The kind of bone numbing tired that came from having to supply additional cover during the mission they'd arrived back on Daibazaal from the previous night. Having slept the last several vargas away, the half-Galra knew he should be feeling somewhat refreshed, yet falling asleep had been more like chore. His mind wouldn't let rest, leaving him tossing and turning until his body finally gave up and decided that his mind was filled with crap. Which it was. He missed Lance like crazy, not being able to talk to him was wearing thin on his emotions. Lance understood that there were certain missions that needed to be conducted in complete radio silence. He was able to have his comms on in his ship, the cloaking device scrambling incoming and outgoing signals to the ship so the person on the other end of the line couldn't be traced, but the fact there was that signal in existence in an area was enough to tip off most people that something didn't quite add up. With Lance's mental health practically a roller coaster, and with his line of work more dangerous than most people's, Krolia had granted Keith special permission that in extreme circumstances he was allowed to pick up a call from Lance at his discretion. Not wanting to cause a scene, or risk compromising a mission, his husband hadn't once made use of his special privilege. When Keith had tried to call him, as he laid in his overly large and empty bed, his call hadn't been accepted. He'd hoped for at least a message from his husband, but it seemed like he'd disturbed Kosmo off his feet for nothing as both his comms were notification free. Well, not completely free. His mother had sent a message teasing him for sleeping so long, and Acxa had sent one teasing him over not having gone straight home to Lance. He'd wanted to. Every single piece of him wanted to curled around his husband, enjoying his warmth and the feel of Lance's soft skin against his own. Marvelling over the mystery of how Lance was still his despite him forever being at work, then their schedules clashing... He wouldn't be surprised if he his husband wanted to dump him for how often he was called in, and how long his missions were. Keith knew it hurt Lance to be apart for so long, yet his husband bit his lip and held his head high. But now he needed to debrief his mother over why the whole mission had gone to quiznak, and why their cover had been blown by recruits who's job was to observe, not directly participate. He also needed to check in with the rest of the team to make sure those who needed medical treatment had received it... Quiznak... that sounded like far too much work...

  Allowing himself to pull the blankets up over his head, and ignore the world for a little longer. Keith barely had a few doboshes of peace before his secondary comms were ringing. He hadn't been sure when Lance had given him a comms device connected to the bounty hunter network. He wasn't sure he wanted to know when Lance was throwing himself into danger until after the fact, when his husband was home safe and sound. He still regretted that he hadn't been there when Lance had been hospitalised. Daehra had politely explained it all to him, but anyone in love knows that when you hear the words "medically induced coma", your first instinct is to be there by their side. No matter how contagious they were. Besides, Coran had got to go. Lance hadn't thrown him out the room... Yes... he was slightly bitter about it still. He wanted Lance to rely on him. To talk to him. No matter what he was thinking or feeling. Sticking his hand out from under the blankets, he felt around for him comms. Kosmo thinking it was an invitation for him to climb under the blankets and make a nuisance. By the time he got Kosmo settled, he'd missed the call. His wolf licking at his hands as he they lay back to chest. Lance was much less trouble to cuddle like this. Plus, it led to early morning kisses and nuzzles, then Lance would turn in his arms, kisses deepening, Keith sliding up and between his husband's leg... Fuck... he should have just gone home.

  Seeing Daehra had called, Keith battled Kosmo to sit up. Daehra would keep him updated on Lance, and on things that she felt Keith should know about. Like when something triggered a change in his husband, or who Lance didn't like in the bar... The sorts of things Lance wouldn't admit to him because he'd think them trivial. It was hardly trivial when more than one bounty hunter had asked Daehra to put a good word in with Lance. Returning the call, Daehra scowled through the screen at him

"Why did you not answer? I only just called you"

"Nice to see you too, Daehra. I'm sorry, I just woke up. What's going on?"

"We require you come home immediately"

"Uh... Dae, you're going to need to make sense. I came back from a mission last night"

"Lance is soon to start his heat cycle. He was hospitalised during the time his last one was supposed to come, and he'd acting completely irrational about this one. He says he doesn't wish to burden you, but he's locked himself up in his room"

Pinching the bridge of his nose Keith closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly before opening them again. He had no idea it was supposed to come so soon. He barely had two quintants off before there was a coalition meeting Krolia wanted him to attend

"I take it you tried reasoning with him?"

"A customer told him he smelt like a "ripe whore". Normally he ignores comments like that, but he barely made it out to the storage room before throwing up. No one's allowed in your room, he can't stomach smells at the moment, or touched. I'm sorry I missed most of his symptoms. He's been acting strange lately, I guess this would be why"

"He didn't say anything to me about... anything"

"Keith, you know he wishes not to worry you. You know he would never ask you to put him before your job, no matter how depressed he is. From the emotions I feel coming from him, his heat cycle should be starting rather soon"

  That little shit. He knew Lance wasn't telling him everything. He'd asked him over and over if he was coping with his workload. If he needed help, or needed Krolia or Shiro to send out a team to assist, but Lance had brushed it off with "it's hard and there's a lot to do, but it feels good to be working towards something". What a load of shit. Sure, it'd be hard to get time off and it'd involve some major rearranging of the schedules on Kolivan and Krolia's ends. But Zethrid, Ezor and Acxa were all perfectly capable leaders. They'd be able to take his spot with ease...

  "Keith. I can feel your anger from here. He is working very hard. He still talks to his therapist. He's finished his injections. He barely drinks as much as he used to. He participates in your team calls with the ex-Paladin members and contacts Miriam each Earth movement. He is trying, it's just... these last three movements he's been trying too much. I know you were unable to avoid leaving due to the emergency with the trainee members, but it feels to me like he was simply going through the motions until you arrived. He was so happy to have you home, that he hadn't mentally prepared himself for you having to leave early. Lance understands your work load, and I feel he feels that asking you to keep your promise of spending his heat with him has either been forgotten, or is at an unopportune time for you"

Why was he being lectured? It wasn't as if he'd intention set out to let Lance down. He didn't know how this heat thing worked... why couldn't Lance have more faith in him? He loved him. He adored him... He hated that he'd broken promises and missed things... They'd barely been able to do the initial shopping for their bedroom before leaving Earth, and he'd had to rush back to work

"He's my husband... he's supposed to come to me for these kinds of things..."

"You're the most precious person in existence when it comes to Lance. He only wants for you to be happy, and to be focusing on your mission so you can come home safe"

"Does he... is he in heat right now?"

"Soon..."

Lance hated his heats. He hated his body was "betraying him". He'd even said it physically hurt. Keith might have been mad at his idiot husband for not contacting him, but it was entirely possible that Lance was laying in their bed crying, torn between not wanting to burden Keith, and desperately wanting him to come home. He'd messed so much up. He couldn't mess this up for Lance, even if he didn't know what he'd be walking into, his husband desperately needed him home

"I'll be there within the varga. I'm leaving now"

Daehra's expression turned to one of relief

"Thank you! I'll meet you in front of the outpost. I'm sorry to worry you with this when you've only just woken"

"No. I want to... I want to know. I should have known he'd shy away from it"

"That doesn't matter. The pair of you are still just as bad as each other"

Keith feigned insult

"I'm not that bad"

"Tell that to Rachel"

"I'm hanging up now Dae. See you soon"

  Ending the call, Keith forced himself out of bed. What Daehra had been referring to was he and Lance had bought their bed for the outpost. Having spent the day buying things for their new home and the bar part of the outpost, they'd filled the two bedrooms closest to their room on the Telula. There new bed in Keith's old room upon the ship. Exhausted from a day of shopping, Lance had thrown himself down on their new mattress, pulling Keith down on top of him where he would up elbowing his husband in the gut. Laughing as Lance whined at him, he peppered kisses to Lance lips as he tried to bring his laughter under control, his husband pushing at him, but giving up and instead wrapping his arms around him and rolling them over so Lance was straddling his lap. Somewhere between kissing Lance's stomach better, and tickling his sides, they'd wound up progressing into sex, Lance's jeans around his ankles, Keith's jeans barely pulled down mid-thigh in their rush to feel connected. Having waited until the day where the Telula was mostly open so they could load her up, Rachel had sprung her plan to "heist" Lance's ship. Appearing in the doorway just in time to catch cuddling during their post-sex high... Keith still between Lance's legs, his arse in the air... Leading to his sister-in-law screaming and running. Lance was initially mortified, starting to cry thinking that Keith was more ashamed of the compromising pose than he was. He loved Lance. He didn't feel ashamed over showing that love... maybe a little awkward because Rachel had seen his arse, but she'd seen a mostly clothed Lance, and nothing of his husband's more intimate areas. When caught by Daehra and Lucteal, demanding to know why she'd screamed, the pair had simply rolled their eyes at her. Her revenge for the situation was to cover the Telula in cloaking camo while everyone was eating lunch, which might have worked if the Telula didn't cut off the shadow of his own ship unnaturally. In the end Lance gave her a blaster to shut her up, though she really didn't deserve it. She hadn't won whatever sibling battle that it'd been. She'd only annoyed everyone by talking about them having sex, and leading to Lance banning sex for the rest of their time on Earth, which wasn't long due to him being called back for a mission. Even when they'd christened their room in the outpost, Lance was jumpy and expecting someone to walk in. Keith could have killed Rachel for upsetting his husband like she had, Lance had even been sleeping in his wardrobe like the bed was a taboo area... She'd fast become his least favourite family member.

  Given that he'd be preoccupied with Lance once he reached the outpost, he couldn't take Kosmo with him. The last thing they needed was Kosmo interrupting with a wet nose to places no wet nose needed to go. Dressing casually, Keith's mind was busy with trying to figure out how to tell his mother he needed to leave immediately, not paying attention as he jogged through the halls. Jogging straight into Acxa with their two new most promising recruits Krystaal and Regetta.

  Caught by Acxa, she stopped his backwards fall with a laugh. Things were going great for her and Veronica, her mood much more happy and outgoing, and her cheek had gone through the roof

"What are you doing? Krolia has been waiting for you all morning. You still have bed hair!"

"Leave him alone, Acxa. He's obviously sleep walking"

Ignoring Krystaal's jab, Keith crossed his arms. The Galra reminded him so much of Lance that it was cruel. He might look like the love child of Acxa and Lotor, with Lotor's build and Acxa's cuteness, as his mother said, it was his personality that really reminded him of his husband. His stupid recklessness to throw himself in harms way to protect someone else was just like Lance. He was a good guy, and it felt to him like he'd made a friend with no ulterior motives. He didn't suck up to him because he was Krolia's son or a past Paladin

"I have to go home. Lance needs me"

Acxa sobered

"Is he alright? He's not injured is he? Veronica is always saying he's working far too hard... He's not in hospital again is he?"

"No. It's not like that... well, it's kind of like that. He's not in a good place right now"

Keith appreciated how Acxa cared for Lance. Zethrid and Ezor had developed a soft spot for Lance too, though they were much more subtle about it...

"Will he alright? Can I do anything to help?"

Shaking his head, he realised he had no idea how exactly to explain why Lance needed him home without betraying his trust

"He'll be alright, but I need to leave right away. I don't know how long I'll be gone for"

"Of course. We'll handle things here, you go look after your husband"

"Thanks, Acxa. Oh... Let Veronica know I'm there, so Lance might not check in..."

"I know you want to reassure her, but when you're both together anything could happen"

"With Daehra there? No, seriously though, he'll be fine. He's just a bit stressed from over working himself so I need to head out. Can you watch Kosmo too?"

"Consider it done. Now go already!"

Slipping between them group, he started jogging again, throwing back over his shoulder

"I'll see you guys when I get back! Don't slack of training!"

   Krolia let him go with minimal fuss, Kolivan however didn't look amused that he needed to take time off for his husband. Explaining that he didn't know when he'd come back only increased Kolivan's scowl, Krolia smacking her boyfriend upside the back of his head in a move only she'd be brave enough to try. The air around her had changed lately, Keith was wondering if she'd fallen pregnant again... He hadn't told anyone her news, and he suspected that part of the reason why they'd both kept him so busy because they were leading up to revealing their news and asking him to stay on longer... Which he didn't want, and didn't know how to say no too. She was his mother... and Lance... Lance was his whole goddamn world. It was hard enough to be with Lance as it was. A year like this... Keith wasn't sure he had the strength to keep leaving Lance behind. His heart felt like it was breaking each time he did, and he knew his husband felt the same way. The photos of them that hung in the cockpit of his ship were painful on the long trips between planets. The videos Lance sent him lulled him sleep each night, he must have watched them a hundred times by now. He knew them off by heart. He was struggling so badly with this situation that he didn't want to go back to Daibazaal. It already felt like he wasn't made for a teaching role. Being with Lance had finally taught him the value of being patient, something Shiro had never drummed into his thick scull despite his personal mantra. He found himself quick to find fault with the latest batch of recruits, despite knowing that everything they'd trained in in their whole lives had to be thrown away as they learned how to live in peace. One simply couldn't blindly strike out, or act rashly, it would compromise the mission to act in haste. Yet the instinct was still there. The instinct and culture of proving ones superiority through strength. He was tired of it. He was tired of knowing that he and Lance would perform these mission with ease. He was tired of cleaning up messes. Lance might not have thought himself worthy of being a Paladin, but at least he'd been useful from the start. Not like some of the recruits. Shaking his head, he dismisses the train of thought as his wormhole to the outpost opened. His stomach felt queasy with nervousness over what condition Lance would be when he arrived, and his heart was racing slightly over the fact that he'd be spending the next movement having sex with his lover repeatedly. As excited as he was over that, he still felt as if he was forcing himself on his husband, who'd in his right mind, was still coming to terms with sex being part of their relationship. He didn't want Lance to ever feel forced, but his heat was about to do just that.

      *

Landing his ship next to the outpost in his designated bay, Keith nearly forgot how to human as he went to disembark. First he forgot to undo the straps to the harness, then he stumbled over his own feet once he was finally free. Berating himself for his idiocy, he bit his tongue as he missed the last step of ship's ramp. Waiting for him, Daehra was wringing her hands, rushing to him once he was few metres clear of his ship

"How is he?"

"I don't know. He's in your bedroom, but he didn't look well when he left"

  Falling into step with Daehra, the pair of them headed towards the side entrance of the main building of the outpost skipping entering through the bar area

"Did it come on suddenly, or has he been feeling the effects for days?"

"He felt jittery last night, but the rest of his symptoms seemed to hit all at once while behind the bar. He said the events were too much for him to handle, even with his mask on he could smell them"

"Do you think I need to shower?"

"I do not know. I would recommend it, but your clothes are in the bedroom..."

Which meant walking around naked. Every corner of the outpost was under camera surveillance, except for the staff quarters, bedrooms and bathrooms. Instead cameras were in the halls facing towards room doors in case of any incidents. Lance didn't want to invade people's rights privacy, the footage stored in the basement of the outpost where most of it would never see the light of day

"I think I'll try talking to him first. If he hasn't showered, I'll try getting him to"

"Good. I know there's food and water in the refrigerator in your quarters. Lance mentioned only once before that he isn't able to fend for himself properly during these heats, and that he often isn't in his right mind or control of his actions. As it is only starting, you should be able to converse. If you can't, and you need something delivered, I can bring it to your door for you to collect, but I'd rather not enter Lance's room"

"That's probably for the best. I don't know how my own instincts are going to react to the situation. I've told mum I might be here a while"

"Of course you are. You simply cannot leave once it's over. He needs to step back from his workload and I'm hoping your presence here will force him to do so"

  Keith frowned, holding the door open for Daehra before following her into the brightly lit hallway

"How much sleep has been getting?"

"I think he's been averaging 5 vargas a night, then an afternoon nap of a varga or two, depending on how busy the bar is. Lately he's been rearranging the storage area for trade items, but he insists on being hands on in every aspect of running the outpost from maintenance all the way through to cooking. He's been compiling a new menu that is better fitted to Tobias's skills, as well as helping to explain Earth food to the new man we took on in the kitchen. To ensure quality, he tastes almost everything"

"I know he doesn't mind cooking, but he used to leave it to your cook"

"Our cook left after being insulted. We swapped two of the housekeepers into the kitchen while Lance is looking for a new one, yet... They all fail when compared to Hunk or Miriam"

Keith rolled his eyes. Lance wanted to serve travellers a taste of home. He served mostly Earth alcohol, with special stock set aside for those he dubbed regulars

"Everyone fails when it comes to Hunk. Why don't you and Lucteal have a look at cooks? Like make a list of potential candidates, and I'll talk him into hiring someone"

"If anyone can make him see reason it is you"

"I don't know about that. He didn't even tell me about this"

"I know it's hard to handle. I can feel your emotions rolling off of you. He's been having a hard time readjusting to having his marks. So many people were commenting on it, he wears his mask in the bar now to hide them, or tries to cover them with make up. I don't think it helped either to learn that his seizures were more or less maintained by the blue medication he was previously on, and that's why the number rose after weaning himself off it it. Then there's the fact he was told he'd be feeling residual weakness for up to 6 phoebs after coming off the gold injections. Now that they've stopped, he refuses to take anything orally, even for something as minor as a headache. He's most frustrating"

"He has his moments. Has he relapsed again?"

"No. No, he said he's scared that he will if given the chance. A customer tried to pay in pills for his lodging with you know we do take. He fled the bar and refused to leave his room until their stay had passed"

Most of the pills they took nowadays only went to greasing deals or working as bait. The worst of them were destroyed so they wouldn't fall into the hands of people like Lance who were recklessly using them to cope

"He didn't tell me that"

"He was ashamed of the incident"

  Continuing the small talk until they reached the wing to where Lance was hiding, things hadn't been all bad for his husband. They'd travelled to a mostly water planet where Lance had made friends with a group of orphaned children. Having no homes, he'd made it his mission to find someone to take them in. Daehra had said he'd acted like Miriam as he'd fussed over the 6 children like they were his own. He'd brought all of them new clothes, toys, food, backpacks to store their own belongings in, then found a space for them at a rebel camp because most orphanages wouldn't have been able to keep them all together. He'd also given them a comms in case of any emergencies or if they simply wanted to talk. Some had sent through photos of drawings with Lance and his team. There were other things his husband had achieved, like saving those tribes that had landed him in hospital. They'd wanted to build a shrine to him once they were able to resettle, instead Lance had made them promise to talk and trade more with each other. Just because they lived the same lifestyle and came from the same planet, didn't mean they all got along. Not everyone they'd been able to evacuate survived, yet if Lance hadn't come all of them would be dead. He knew how his husband's silly brain fixated on the bad, without requiring Daehra's little push towards reminding Lance that the work he was doing mattered.

  Pausing to knock on their bedroom door, Keith let himself into their room to find Lance hidden under a pile of blankets. The scent filling the space so powerful he unconsciously took half a step back as his senses filled with it. Distress. Apprehension. Fear. Loneliness. Horniness... He could taste it on the tip of his tongue. Mentally kicking himself for stepping back, the half-Galra's legs shook as he approached the bed. His brain felt as if it was being invaded. A little voice whispering all the dirty things the could be doing to his husband as he forced himself to keep himself in check. Reaching the side of the bed, he knelt do undo his boots, his fingers clumsy and jeans far too tight as started panicking over how his body was reacting. He didn't want to hurt Lance, yet he'd barely been in the room a dobosh and all he could think about was how he needed bend Lance over and fuck him several ways to Sunday. He wasn't going to last.

  Stripping his clothes with his boots, Keith climbed up and crawled across their bed, his hand landing on the curve of the lump that would be Lance's hip. Beneath the blankets, his husband whimpered

"Babe, it's Keith. Can you come out so we can talk?"

"Go away!"

"Go away" was followed by a soft sob

"I can't do that, babe. Daehra said your heat's starting. I promised I'd be here for this"

Tugging on the top of the blanket, Lance started to cry harder

"Babe, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here now..."

"Go away... please go away"

"I can't do that..."

"Please! Don't look at me!"

That piqued his interest. Pulling the blankets back, Lance had both hands between his legs, fingering and jerking himself off as he cried into his pillow. He'd thought the scent bad enough before revealing the source of it

"Don't look!"

"Babe..."

"Don't look at me! Please... please... don't look at me..."

  Beneath Lance's hip and arse the light brown sheet was darkened from his wetness with each obscene squelch that Lance's fingers made. Whimpering away from him, his husband tried to curl downwards to hide away. Taking Lance by the shoulder, he forced him back onto his back. The Cuban's eyes scrunched closed tightly as he continued to cry

"Oh, baby..."

Hiccuping, Lance shook his head at him

"I can't... I'm sorry... I didn't know it was going to hit today..."

Lance had no idea how hard it was for Keith to hold back, but he wasn't an animal. He wasn't going to pounce on Lance simply because his dick was twitching with interest

"I'm sorry... I'll be good... just... stop looking at me..."

Hushing him softly, Keith stroked at Lance's hair

"Baby, you're not doing anything wrong. Let me help you?"

"I can't..."

"You can't what?"

"Can't... come... it hurts... it hurts so much..."

"I've got you... you just need to relax for me"

"I can't... you smell wrong... you don't smell like you... I can't... I can't..."

Running his free hand up Lance's thigh, Lance arched his back under his touch

"You're so tense baby. Open your eyes for me, ok? I'm here... your husband is here... come on, show my those blue eyes of yours"

  Sniffling sadly, Lance did as he was asked. Watery blue eyes staring up at him as he bit his bottom lip. Running his hand back up from Lance's thigh to his cheek, Keith tugged Lance's lip free with the pad of his thumb

"See babe. It's me. You're safe now. You're in a safe place. You can relax"

"I'm sorry..."

"Shhh. This isn't your fault. I want you to come for me"

"I can't..."

"Spread your legs for me, and let your fingers slide out your arse..."

"I feel..."

"I know you're all confused right now, but I want to see you come for me and I know you can"

"It's dirty"

"It's natural..."

"I'm... a freak..."

"No, babe. Your going to come for me"

"It hurts... it's never hit so hard before... it hurts so much"

"Babe, I'm here... I need you to let yourself go. Put your legs down, and slide your fingers out"

With both arms trapped between his tightly closed legs, the position hard to hurt as Lance tried to ignore what his body wanted him to do. Inch by inch, his husband wrenched his shaking legs apart, not removing his fingers but making space to jerk himself better. The sight was glorious. Lance's leaking precum rolling down his fist into his short pubes

"That's it... your doing so good"

"I can't come..."

"Don't think about anyone else. Think about me. Do you want me to touch you?"

Nodding, Lance's already flushed face grew redder. Shifting his hand from Lance's face, he wrapped it around Lance's, controlling the pace as he thumbed at his slit. Gasping, Lance's cheeks glowed brightly as his husband came, cum splattering down his chest and stomach as his whole body finally relaxed. Drawing all he could, Keith milked Lance's erection until finally nothing more coated his fingers

"Better, babe?"

"You smell wrong..."

"I came straight from Daibazaal..."

"Your smell... is making me feel sick... feel so hot"

"I'm pretty sure that's the fever from your heat. I thought we could take a shower together"

Lance whimpered as Keith propped himself up. His lover flinching as he tried to bring his legs back up to cover himself up

"Shhh. It's ok. I'm going to pick you up and carry you into the shower"

[mermaider00]

For the AU thing... #46 and #86 with Ven’tar and Lotor?

46. Blind Date + 86. I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On 

Ventor featuring Single Dad Zarkon from the Good Reality 

Note: Ven’tar’s planet is called Kompassia and her people are the Plantisects. 

————————————————-

Kompassia was unlike any planet he’d ever been to before. In all his years traveling the universe with his father, Lotor couldn’t help but be impressed by the planet that so stood out among so many wondrous worlds. Daibazaal, though it carried its own unique beauty, was the dry red planet, a desert climate in every region and completely ocean-less. Even Altea, with its lush green and other pleasing hues like a garden, could not compare with Kompassia. There was a place for every climate on Altea; mountains, ocean, country, city, and the cold of the north. 

What greeted a visitor here was a blast of the most majestic rainforest planet an explorer could ever hope to find. 

Prince Lotor was eager to begin working with them. 

“How many are attending?” Lotor asked, eyes scanning the large room. Not out of caution, but interest. There was always so much to look at here on Kompassia. And the scents. No matter how long he sat in one place and no matter how many times he visited the planet, the shock of such potent scents consumed. 

“Only one.” Sitting next to him in the plush booth, Emperor Zarkon stared intently at the crystal glass he held between two large fingers. “The Kompassian leaders have finally selected a representative to aide you. This is just an introductory meeting, so everyone knows who is who. This crystal is simply beautiful.” 

Everything inside one of Kompassia’s finest restaurants was beautiful. Built right over the shores of their grandest ocean outside the capital, the Galra royal family had been invited to dinner to continue their negotiations for quintessence mining, a task that would benefit both the Empire and the local population. The room was large and dimly lit with chandeliers that pulsed with golden light, the atmosphere cool and calm as other Kompassian elite dined with their guests while enjoying the elegant music fit for a high class dinner. On one of the private raised platforms reserved only for special occasions and esteemed guests of honor, the Galra Emperor and his heir sat alone in a booth, waiting for the planet’s representative to arrive and join them. Zarkon had suggested they turn up early so they could enjoy a varga alone before the work began. 

Of course there were whispers among the diners and of course there were curious eyes that wandered their way to get a good look at the Emperor and his son the Prince. But royalty were used to such things. 

Lotor looked over at his father. He knew exactly what his old man was thinking from the eyes alone. “A weapon forged from such material will shatter instantly upon any impact.” 

“Yes, I know,” Zarkon replied blandly, ignoring his son’s playful grin. There was wine inside the glass, but it was forgotten momentarily. “I was thinking this crystal, if used creatively, would make an impressive engagement dagger.” 

“Oh?” Lotor’s eyes wandered away, found the musicians as they played on the level below. The music was soft and soothing. “Are you getting engaged any time soon?” 

“Not me. I’ve had my time and my love.” Never again, Zarkon thought but didn’t voice, especially around his son. His marriage may have been short-lived, so short that Lotor had never known Honerva, but Zarkon still felt so strongly for her that he couldn’t find room in his heart for another. His wife had given him Lotor, and his boy had always been enough. “I was thinking more for you.” 

“Well I am certainly not getting engaged any time soon.” 

“Look at this place, Lotor,” Zarkon continued, gesturing all around them with the glass, eyes focusing on the rushing waves of the gleaming moonlit ocean outside the grand floor to ceiling windows. “This is probably the most beautiful damn planet I’ve ever seen. Look at this glass again. They make glass this lovely. If there is an ideal place to fall in love with an even lovelier woman, it is here.” 

Lotor didn’t have to hide a sigh. “Father, I can’t have this conversation again. I’m here to work with the planet, not fool around.” 

“And interplanetary relations are very important,” Zarkon agreed, lifting his other arm and setting it over the seat behind Lotor. Kompassians were a slender people, and his thicker frame was a little cooped up, even in an expensive booth. “But you’re no longer dividing your time between your duties and your lessons with Alfor. You can dive into this project of yours completely. And,” he added with a smirk as he glanced down at his son, “that is exactly how I met your mother.” 

“Ancients help me,” Lotor muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Alfor brought a brilliant Altean to Daibazaal with the intent of scientific exploration, but those plans shifted a bit the very moment I set eyes on her. I would not have you if I had not been so open-minded.” 

Lotor tossed him a look with a raised white brow. “You imprinted on her, I would hardly call that being the pillar of open-mindedness.” 

He narrowed his eyes, though it was meant to be playful. “Don’t sass your father.” 

Lotor couldn’t help but grin as he looked away. 

Zarkon’s face fell a bit as he stared at Lotor, at the sharp angles of his face, the white of his long hair, the distinct Altean features like the marks they all knew were now under his blue eyes with the help of Alfor’s alchemy teachings. He saw Honerva in him in every moment, even more so now as his boy grew older with a great thirst for knowledge. Lotor was a miracle, Zarkon thought, a fact he remembered every single day since a crying purple infant was placed into his hands, and his alliance with Altea was sealed forever. He’d been given a miracle, though he hadn’t deserved it. 

Shouldn’t everyone have the chance to see a miracle? The people of Kompassia were next to find out. 

“You are the best of two worlds, Lotor,” Zarkon told him, his longing for a wife he hadn’t seen in countless deca-phoebs mingling with the great pride he felt when looking at his boy. It was an overwhelming emotion, no matter how old his son became. “You very well might make something here that is the best of three.” 

There were times, especially as a boy, when Lotor had mourned not having a mother, especially one as brilliant as Honerva. It had been hardest during his training on Altea, the home of her blood, when amazing women like Queen Melenor would scoop Allura up in a way only a mother really could. But becoming a man gave a new perspective on just about everything. His father had raised him himself, never remarried, and led the Empire while also somehow never neglecting Lotor since infancy. 

You are the best of two worlds. Zarkon had constantly told him that for as long as he could remember. 

One great father was enough for him. 

“Well,” Zarkon said suddenly, tossing back the rest of the wine. “I will see you back on the ship.” 

Confused, Lotor asked, “You aren’t staying?” 

“This is your endeavor, son, as is all the glory that will follow. You’re the one with all of the plans and the representative is the one with planetary knowledge. I have nothing to add. Pay for the dinner,” he told Lotor, pulling him close and shamelessly purring against his son’s hair as an affectionate goodbye. 

“Father, you don’t know the area,” Lotor commented as Zarkon shoved himself out of the slender booth. “Allow me to have someone escort you.”  

“I can find my own way, boy, now look alive. Your partner is here.” 

As the Emperor walked away, Lotor immediately found the elaborate entrance doors, closing behind a body scurrying inside in a long cape and hood. Right before they shut, he noticed that rains had come, a harmless storm brewing over the ocean. He watched as the staff attempted to help his guest dry off, but their hands were only lightly brushed off. A young man was given the job of guide, leading the way straight to him. Lotor stood and nodded politely as the two bowed before the servant flittered away, leaving them alone. 

“My sincerest apologies, your highness.” 

A female, Lotor discovered from the sound of her voice. He smiled as she reached for her hood. He preferred working with women, their minds were so unique and logical, they made sense to him. Already he knew this mission would succeed. 

When the hood was removed and her face unveiled, she gave him a dazzling smile.  

The music must’ve suddenly stopped, the chatter around them too. It was now quiet, so quiet he couldn’t even hear the sound of his own breathing. In the silence, he stared at her, at the lovely green of her, the red of her eyes, the interesting marks on her face, each and every little droplet of rain sliding down her skin. Her clothes were wet, sticking to her body and outlining a slender frame, a tall one too. Tall and willowy and wet and… 

Lotor swallowed, and finally blinked when his eyes went dry from staring at her. No longer deafeningly silent. All he could hear now was the loud and hard beat of his heart in his chest. 

“My name is Ven’tar,” she said to him, her voice sounding just like the soothing breezes of her glorious planet. “It is an honor to work alongside you and the Empire. I’m sure we will do great things together.” 

She held out her hand. Lotor forced his own to gently take the middle of her forearm in greeting. When they disconnected, she went about removing her damp cape, draping it over the back of her chair. A servant rushed forward to pull it out for her. She clicked to him in thanks, the language of her people, as she sank gracefully into her seat across from him. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Ven’tar,” he said to her softly. 

The sounds of the world returned to him, though his eyes remained on her as he sat too. She looked like Kompassia itself. All the majesty and grace and all the lovely wonders coming together to create such a lovely being. His father had just said to him he thought this place was the most beautiful planet he’d ever seen. 

Lotor absolutely agreed as she tossed him another smile. 

“Now,” Ven’tar began, her eyes never straying from his, a hand running down her cheek to wipe away any more rain on her skin. The water bended to her will, lingering on the tips of her fingers. “Shall I tell you more about Kompassia?” 

Anything to hear her talk. Anything to learn more about her. Ven’tar. 

“Please,” he said softly, and heard nothing but the sound of her voice. 

From below, near the entrance to the kitchens, Zarkon peeked around the corner, a big grin across his face. He could see the two, he could see the look on his son’s face. She’d collided right into his boy, just as Honerva had before Lotor had been born. Of course Zarkon knew exactly who Lotor would be meeting with tonight. Ven’tar was an amazing woman, a strong and powerful one. She was perfect. 

The best of three worlds. 

“Excuse me, sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t… Emperor Zarkon.” 

Zarkon spun around, locked eyes with a servant and watched as the man instantly fell into a bow. 

“I apologize, my Lord,” the servant sputtered, wringing his hands together. “This area is… for staff only. You could get hurt. This door is constantly opening and closing.” 

He wouldn’t cause trouble, not here, not when it was Lotor’s night to begin his mission. Maybe even a greater mission that would take them far into the future if his hunch was right about his son and the Lady. So as not to give the young man heart failure, Zarkon kept his voice cool and calm as he pointed up to Lotor’s table. 

“That is my son up there,” he mentioned. 

The servant only blinked. “Yes, sir, I know. Would you like me to bring the Prince anything?” 

“He is meeting with a woman. A representative to your planet. They’re having dinner. Alone. Privately. Just the two of them.” 

Only more blinking in the ticks that passed on by. Finally a light went off, and the servant gave a nod and a slight grin. “I see. I understand. If you’d like, I can escort you to one of the offices above. It gives a view of the entire restaurant. I can bring you another glass of wine, as well.” 

He just wanted to watch for a little while, to make sure Lotor would be safe and sound. Of course he would, but it was a parent’s never-ending job, his duty as a father. History was being made tonight, and Zarkon wanted to witness it right at its conception. 

“That would be fine,” he told the servant. 

[ridleytheknight]

But Now I Know Who I Am

Part 2 to I Forgot Who I Once Was

Enjoy~

---

           It was so cold, so dark. His head throbbed painfully and his chest felt like it had been crushed. He could feel the blood, it was warm and leaking against his temples and skin. It felt sticky, gross, and vomit inducing. Lance felt sick. Alone.

           “H-help! Keith! Shiro! Hunk!!! Help me!” Yet, nothing changed. The castle had already worm holed away. It had been a solo mission. The castle and other paladins were going to throw the Galra off track while Lance gathered supplies on the planet with Blue. But Blue wasn’t anywhere Lance could see. And there was still a gash gushing blood from his head, and a rock crushing his legs. His helmet crackled from seven feet away.

           “Lance! Your- breaking- - - What’s - - you need - - - grab the - - - get out of there! - - - - taking so long?” Lance sobbed.

           “Pidge! Help! Please! I don’t wanna die! Pidge please!” Lance whimpered, his lungs starting to burn and his breaths beginning to wheeze. His last spoken words turning into a wheeze. “Please… I wanna go home.”

           Yet nobody came.

           And the pain only got worse. His body ached and felt numb at the same time. A burning tingle as well as sharp stabs every time his body jerked uncontrollably. There was a pool of blood beneath him now where his head laid. It splashed againt his cheek where his head lay on the ground. Lance no longer having the strength to hold up his head.

           Everything was spinning and going dark. Lance’s head was stuffed with more cotton and less blood and the smell of salt water was thick in the air. It gave that odd rushing sensation in his nose that filled Lance with nostalgia. Infecting Lance’s sense like a pleasant virius.

Except for the fact this planet had no ocean. Lance’s eyes slipped closed.

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die. Please. He wanted to live. He wanted to go home. He wanted people to stay. To love him. He wanted to go home where people did love him. Where people didn’t leave him. Please. He wanted something to take him home.

But it life never gave him anything did they?

---

           “NO!!! NO! NO!” The brunette shot up, screaming. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he hiccupped and sobbed. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want them to leave him. He was scared. His hands clasped over his mouth and he curled up. His knees coming up to bury his head into as his body shook. Arms grappling at his knees for any purchase he could get. Anything to ground him.

           Though, in just a moment the door slid open and arms immediately wrapped around him. Making Lance immediately let go of his knees and cling to Ezor’s waist. Hands twisting into the fabric of her clothing as he nuzzled his head into her. Still shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as Ezor pulled him closer. Letting him cling as she hushed him.

           “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t be stupid or bad or worthless anymore. Please don’t leave me. I don’t wanna die. Please.” Ezor simply hushed Lance quietly. Holding him securely and rocking the trembling boy gently before looked at Narti who hung back in the door. Listening sadly as Lance broke down in front of both of them.

           The nightmares that had faded had gotten so much worse after the mission where Lance was caught by Voltron. But the trauma seemed to be deeper set than just one meeting that had only lasted possibly half a varga. The scary part through was that Lance never remember waking up and sobbing to them. Never remembered what he dreamed about.

           Repressed memories.

           Narti stepped forward and pressed his fingers to Lance’s temple, immediately the boy went limp into her grasp. The crystal on all three of the generals calming down from their bright shining to a dim glow. The bond between them calming down once more as Lance fell into a dreamless unconsciousness. Ezor glared, looking to Narti.

           “I will find who did this to him I will find out what happened to him. And I will kill them for doing that to him. No boy like him should wake up screaming every night. Not one and definitely not Lance.” Narti didn’t say a word, only gave a single nod.

           It was a mutual understanding.

           Ezor pulled Lance a little closer, running her fingers through Lance’s hair while settling down into his bed herself, being sure to cover Lance with a blanket. Narti disappearing by the time Ezor looked again at the now closed door.

           She still remembered finding Lance. His body had been limp underneath a rock, his skin had been so pale and blood infected almost every part of his body. Ezor personally had never seen a human before. Lotor was the one who’d realized that the alien didn’t look so good and that he needed help.

           At first, Ezor hadn’t quite… cared. Sure, he was a boy that needed help. But she couldn’t connect with Lance. He was just a hurt boy that needed to get home. He wasn’t the first. God knows he probably wouldn’t be the last. But, then he started squirming into her walls, looking to her for reassurance. She was the first one to go to him. She was the first one he met when he knew nothing. He needed her.

           Ezor hadn’t know how much she cherished that feeling until she had it.

           Someone needed her. Completely. Wanted her to be the one he needed.

           She crumbled.

           Now she couldn’t picture his limp body without feeling sick with the need to check on him. Feel him breathing. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Didn’t want to. He’d clawed his way into her walls. Into everyone’s walls. Now he was there to stay. Ezor whispered against his hair.

           “You’re safe here cub. You’re safe.” She paused.

           “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to change that.”

---

           Of course, just when things started settling down, it blew up again.

           Lance was beside her in the training room, Zethrid was proving her strength and bench-pressing Lance above her head. Said boy laughing madly as she did so. One of those shrieking laughs you get when you can’t contain yourself that makes everyone laugh happily along. The training hall was filled with giggles and chatter as they playfully trained. It was a rest day after a mission, so they could have a little fun with training before it got serious again. It was also a mild celebration in Ezor’s mind. Lance hadn’t had a nightmare in three days. Though, Ezor accounted most of that to how they’d all slept in the same room during the mission. Lance always seemed to sleep better with someone there.

           It was something to think about.

           Lance was just squirming to try and get off of Zethrid’s shoulder when red light replaced the gentle purple glowing of the room and sirens wailed much louder than the laughter in the room, replacing it with sober silence as they all immediately ran to their positions.

           The ship was being attacked.

           Lance hooks his mask on and clicks the safety lock, grabbing his close range rifle and follows closely behind Zethrid and Ezor. Ezor felt herself dreading the strategy. But there were no sniping ranges for them to stick Lance into. Not anywhere safe and secure. The safest place was fighting beside them.

           It still filled Ezor with dread. Something was going to happen. She knew it. It was just the feeling she got… when she met Lotor. When she lost everything. When she lost her siblings. Her parents. It was this exact feeling. And it made her sick.

           But they had to fight.

           “It’s the paladins! Lance, are you good?” Axca’s voice cut through the white silence of their coms. Lance’s eyes hardened.

           “Yes.” It was going to be over this time. He wouldn’t be afraid anymore. He wouldn’t constantly feel that ache of bitterness and worry in his chest. He wanted to be free. And free is what he’d be. He’d fight for it.

           So, when they split up to fight, Lance did just that. Ignoring the shouts of the paladins, calling them to him. And shot back his own answer to their pleas in the form of bullets. He was done. Lance was sure to keep space between him and the three larger paladins however. The black one was the champion. And as much as he wanted to help Zethrid, it would not help him or her. As easy as it was for Zethrid to throw him. Shiro-the name came to him reflexively- could definitely do the exact same thing.

           The yellow paladin was also the same, he looked strong, and the way he handled the gun in his hands like it was nothing was definitely intimidating. Luckily Ezor was doing well enough against him. Hunk-another name- didn’t stand a chance for her speed and agility.

           And the red one… well. Fear never takes seconds to dissipate. The red paladin doesn’t look physically intimidating. But someone in Lance’s mind all he feels is fear, inadequacy, comparisons. He feels like nothing compared to Keith. A cargo pilot. Whatever that was. So, Lance turns tail and let’s Axca and Narti deal with him. He sticks to keeping the green paladin on their toes. Shooting a shot closer for every word they spew at him until his shots are mere inches from their armor.

           Everything is going fine. Until Lance glances over and sees it. The blue paladin. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see her. Her armor is pink, but she flew the blue lion. That fact feels wrong to him. Like… it wasn’t always her. She moves awkwardly compared to their other paladins. Her position feels new. But that isn’t what got Lance’s attention. What got his attention was the fact she was aiming a gun at Lotor.

           The man who rescued him. Treated him like family. Gave him a home and belonging.

           Not that man.

           His feet moved on their own accords, dropping his gun to sprint at Lotor. But Lotor didn’t see him until it was too late. Lance’s hands on Lotor’s back and shoving him off to the side of the staircase just as the loud shot rang out.

           It burned.

           The ground was cold compared to the burning in his chest. It was shocking and paralyzing. He was so disorientating. No, not him. It? He couldn’t decipher his thoughts anymore, it hurt so bad.

           Who was screaming?

           It wasn’t him, his mask was still on. But he couldn’t see who, the who room was spinning and blurry. He couldn’t only barely see a few people standing over him. They were familiar, but they weren’t them. Who was he looking for again?

           Ezor!

           Lance blinked his eyes, and he could see her. She was thrown over Zethrid’s shoulder, her leg was at an odd angle and she was screaming. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms looked like they were reaching for him. Leaving him. No. Being forced away from him. He wanted them safe. But… he was also scared.

           His arm reached out as tears glossed over his own vision. Reaching for her too. But no one heard the words under his mask. But the glowing crystal on his neck made the emotion shoot through his family like the bullet that had pierced him.

           Be safe.

           Don’t leave me.

           Don’t forget me.

           Ezor only screamed louder, clawing at Zethrid’s shoulder as if she could crawl over there and kill them all by pure force of will. Screaming and shouting curses as their bond went dead as Lance passed out, unconscious, but breathing. The dim glow of pain still present. Ezor shouting curses and death threats all the way until they were out of sight. The image of the paladin’s reaching to her fallen soldier fresh in her mind. And she broke down. Sobbing into Zethrid’s shoulder with cries that could only hurt anyone who heard them.

           She lost another one today.

           And it was her fault.

           All her fault.

---

           Panic, that was all he felt when he woke up in the nearly all white room. It was so bright, everything was too much. The feeling of restraints digging into his skin, the itchy fabric on his skin, the humming of the machines, the smell of medication and sanitizer.

           It was all so overstimulating. His senses were overloaded and he was confused.

           Why didn’t his chest hurt? Where was Ezor? Where was any of his family? Where was the kind guards around the ship? Where were his clothes? Why was he wearing a weird white suit? Where was he?

           The people around slapped him in the face with that knowledge. Voltron. He was with Voltron. And all that knowledge did was make his mental state worse. The mind boggling fear multiplying with anxiety, depression, the feeling of never being enough. The feeling of being disregarded. Neglected. Abandoned.

           It hurt.

           It hurts.

           And all they did was nothing.

           The blue paladin was probably the easiest to deal with, she never approached him. She just stared. The next best was the green paladin. Pidge. She would only watch in fear and confusion as he would struggle and call out for his family. She’d also console the yellow paladin, who only sobbed. Begging him to remember them. Their names were on the front of his mind. Hunk and Pidge. But he regretted saying their names as soon as he said it. Now they never left him alone. Trying to get him to remember.

           But if his head didn’t want to remember them, then didn’t that mean he shouldn’t? Lotor said if it hurt to remember, then it was better to leave it alone. Let it happen naturally and in time. Forcing it would only cause pain, and that wasn’t good.

           Nothing was worth pain.

           That’s why training sessions never went as far like some other forms of Galra training.

           Neither of those too were as bad as the red and black paladins. Both of them scared Lance out of his mind. And no one cared how scared he was. They didn’t care period. Keith was always angry. At who, Lance had no clue. But all he did was frown and scowl. Constantly question him if he remembered any of them at all. It was almost desperate. Shiro… he was worse in the other way. He kept trying to victimize Lance. Saying he understood how hard it was to be taken. That he was safe now.

           But he wasn’t safe now. He was breaking down. And no one seemed to care.

           No one was letting him go home.

           And they never left him alone!

           They were choking him. Shoving names and memories down his throat until he was drowning. Telling stories about how dorky and happy he was. All the jokes he said, people he flirted with. And it sounded like him. But it didn’t feel like the real him. It felt like how he acted when he was afraid and trying not to show it. That nervous fake courage he perfected in high stress situations. The courage his family always saw through like a mirror. Yet, they acted like that was him. He was drowning, they had tied him into a bed in the med bay, and their words is the water they had shoved him under. Stress only made his outbursts worst. And when he got worse his health declined, and then they’d get worried and hassle him more, and he would get more stressed out and over stimulated and the cycle would repeat. There was only one relief.

           Coran.

           Coran never shoved memories down his throat, only mentioned them in passing sometimes and looked for his reaction. Backing down as soon as he saw a negative sign. And he defended Lance. Shooing the paladin’s away when he noticed Lance nearing his breaking point and talking Lance back down. Comforting him.

           He was the only one Lance actually trusted in the whole place. Even his mind seemed to recognize Coran. The name coming naturally and only bringing calm. Images of the healing pods and the fuzzy memory of soft banter. The feeling of being listened to. Joked with in the best way. Being treated like a person. Like a son. And with Coran’s help, the paladins started figuring out how to approach Lance, how to talk with him even if he refused to respond to some of them.

           Eventually, Lance grew used to their presence, staying calm, they didn’t press his limits.

           But that stopped immediately once they violated the one thing they should have never touched.

           It was Shiro who’d even started having the idea. Looking at the choker like necklace on Lance’s neck. No clasp, and the royal Galra symbol plastered all over it. It screamed collar, like identification. Like a branding. A reminder.

           His arm had always been a reminder of the pain and torture he’d went through. As time went on, he’d used it for good, to protect his friends and remember that he’d survived despite all odds. But Shiro knew that if given the chance, he’d rip the arm off at the first chance he could. Maybe. The necklace still agitated Lance? Maybe he’d had set rules of how to act if he ever got captured and the necklace was only reminding him? Maybe he’d start getting better if he took it off? He told some of the other paladins and they had agreed. The only one who didn’t agree was Coran, who knew it was Lance’s only source of comfort. But no one listened to him.

           That’s why he only closed his eyes, crying as he listened to Lance’s screams as they pried the necklace off of him. Shrieking for them to leave him alone. Calling them monsters. Screaming bloody murder and thrashing so much he’d heard Hunk worry over the restraints integrity on Lance’s body. The straps they’d insisted was for Lance’s own safety. The thrashing only got worse once they removed it. Lance screaming for them to bring it back. And they didn’t understand.

           Reaching out, they tried to calm him. But Lance had been pushed too far. He only reacted with anger. Attacking with anything he could do if they even got within arm’s lengths of him. Eventually they stopped trying and called it a break for the night, escaping Lance’s anger quickly before Lance could actually get his hands on them. And as soon as the door closed, Lance quickly deflated. His echoing cries turning into heartbroken sobs as he collapsed onto his bed. Head turned as deep into his pillow as he could with the restrictive bindings holding him tight. And Coran drew closer. Gently taking a hand and brushing it through Lance’s hair. Lance didn’t move or show any sign of acknowledging Coran.

           But he didn’t attack either.

           Only took in the quiet comfort.

---

           It’s three weeks after his capture that they come, only three days after they took Lance’s necklace. The paladins don’t understand why they accelerated their retaliation plans so quickly, but Coran knows. He knew the crystal around Lance’s neck. And he knew how he’d feel if he felt the extreme angry and hurt that would resonate in the bond before going dead.

           He knows he’d fear the worst.

           So, Coran doesn’t argue as the paladins rush away in the red sounding alarms. Leaving him to tend to Lance, who was dead asleep, headphones playing gentle music in his ears. Lance had always had nightmares, luckily, even with how much worse they’d gotten. The solution was still the same. Lance sleeping soundly with music in his mind. Blocking out the harsh reality as Coran gently pawed through his hair.

           How long would Coran go without seeing Lance now? Would he get to see the boy who’d become a son to him ever again? Would he know how he was doing? If he was happy? If he was safe? Sleeping and eating well? All the worries that swarmed Coran’s mind once he remembered one thing.

           Safety and wellness was nothing compared to happiness and Lance could never be happy here.

           Coran had known that from the start. The paladins were each too involved in their own problems to actually need each other in the that would help form the family unit that Lance needed for his own problems. Lance needed security, needed someone to look up to, that didn’t pick someone else to favor. He needed family who didn’t make him feel stupid, or didn’t realize how much certain jokes would hit him far too deep.

           Lance needed people to understand and remind him that he wasn’t okay.

           And the paladins couldn’t do that.

           They were too set in human ways to realize that humans were flawed in how they dealt with people who hurt more than just the level of the body. They didn’t know how to deal with mental and emotional injuries more than just medication and failed empathy.

           It wasn’t the paladins fault per say, they were just children too. Allura even, she was just a child as well. They needed time to grow and learn how to handle themselves, their own problems, their effect on people. They were learning.

           But learning was more than what Lance needed now. Maybe, if they hadn’t left. If Lance had never been injured and somehow ended up in Galran care, maybe Lance could have talked about his past and his traumas too his whole team and this whole thing could have been avoided. This deep-set pain that his brain has blocked out. The abandonment. The nightmares. New ones than just the ones Lance talked about from before.

           Coran still worried if he was doing the right thing.

           He didn’t get to think too hard on that for long as the med bay door’s burst open, revealing one of the Galra soldiers. Ezor he guessed. That’s the name Lance called out for most of the time at least. She was breathing heavily, as if had just run a marathon. Clutching a weapon in her hand as if it would be her saving grace. Coran simply smiled at her, and stepped aside. Surprising the woman in the door way.

           “He’s asleep, and fine. He doesn’t need anything more to stress about now, so, be gentle.” The woman looked at Coran in surprise, she’d obviously been expecting, and prepared for, a fight.

           “You’ll… just let me have him?” Coran smiled at her again. Reassuringly.

           “He’s happy with you, and you have treated him much better than the new paladins I have to admit. Even before Allura commanded to wormhole away from him, they were still very distant. Hunk and I hopefully excused from that assumption. I only want the best for him. He’s a sweet boy. He reminds me much of my son. He is my son.”

           Warily, Ezor takes the offering. Stepping closer and almost crying in relief as she sees Lance, peacefully asleep, wounds healed so only small marks from old restraints on his arms were present. Slowly, Ezor wiggled her arms beneath Lance and lifted. Carrying the small boy and starting to walk away when she was interrupted. Tensing as Coran called out to her.

           “Wait, one moment, just let me, may I?” Ezor stayed patient as the older Altean approached again. Pulling a very familiar piece of jewelry from his pocket and reattaching it to Lance’s throat. “I found out where they put it. He likes it, and I know what it’s used for.  Also, music helps with the nightmares, if he sleeps with headphones he tends to sleep the night more often. And Ezor? If I find out you’ve hurt him? I will hurt you.” Ezor paused with surprise, before her own lips curved into a smile. Seeing the way Lance nuzzled, even unconsciously into Coran’s touch. Ezor made a split decision. Pulling a transmission device from her pocket and handing it to Coran.

           “You care about him, and he seems to be fond of you, even asleep. I’m sure he’ll be glad to talk and see you. As long as you keep this and us to yourselves.” Coran smiles, thankfully bowing his head and taking the device before giving Lance one last glance. The small gesture had eased any worries and doubts that had lurked within his mind. Peacefully, Coran relinquished his goodbyes laying a small kiss on Lance’s forehead and letting Ezor go before the paladins saw the sneaking ship and suspected an intruder. Watching the woman run with his son held securely in her arms.

Lance himself felt the motion and his eyes slowly blinked open, watching lazily as Coran got smaller and the halls passed him by. Lance gave a small wave, which Coran returned with a misty-eyed smile. Lance smiled into Ezor’s shoulder. Closing his eyes again as Ezor cradled his head protectively in her hand. Whispering softly into his hair. That he was protected. She’d never let him go again. That nothing was going to ever hurt him again. That he’d never feel that way again. And Lance only had one more thought as he slowly slipped back into the dark void of sleep.

           He was safe.

           [Lance was also ecstatic as time passed and he got to chat with Coran, often sitting with Ezor as he did so. Coran only smiling at Lance’s wild hand gestures and wild stories. And never once did the two use the other’s acquired information against each other.]

[strixmoonwing]

Been wanting to write something for season 3 of Voltron ever since I finished it and finally got around to finishing this oneshot. Hope you guys enjoy!

-----

“We’re coming for you, Shiro.”

That single thought had been blazing in Keith’s head for the last several vargas, ever since he and the rest of the Voltron team had come up with a plan to successfully in infiltrate the Galra warship that housed the team of Galra scientists in control of the so-called Project Kuron.

The same warship where Shiro’s clone had escaped from and where the real Shiro had to be kept.

It had been a tragic blow to the paladins when they discovered that the Shiro who had been living with and fighting along side them for months now had not been their Shiro, but a clone. Not even the clone, who had taken to calling himself Kuron, had known until twisted memories started to resurface and suddenly all the oddities of Kuron’s escape and the Black Lion’s rejection made sense.

Despite the surprise and agony of losing Shiro all over again, Keith knew that none of this was Kuron’s fault. In fact, the clone seemed to be taking the news the hardest out of all of the Castle’s residents combined. All his memories, his past, his entire life had been nothing but a fragmented lie. Nobody knew how to comfort him.

However, despite his own anguish and inner turmoil, Kuron had worked relentlessly the last few weeks to help Keith and the rest of the paladins search for the place of Kuron’s origin. It was the only place the real Shiro could possibly be at this point.

And at last, they were to finally locate it.

After much rejoicing at the discovering, the paladins, Coran, and Kuron all hunkered down and spent vargas coming up with a plan to get inside to stage a rescue. The warship was heavily armed and guarded, possibly with Druids as well. It had taken a while, with a lot of bickering and arguments, but soon they had a plan ready and that would go into action the next day.

That had been a while ago. Keith now stood alone in the control room, listlessly watching the endless space outside the Castle. He was sure that everyone in the Castle were now sound asleep. The leader of Voltron knew that he should be too, but right now a restless, nervous energy was keeping him wide awake.  He had never felt so anxious about a mission before, not even when they had gone up again Zarkon himself. Perhaps it was because he now had the lives of his teammates (as well as Shiro) relying on him for guidance that anxiety now plagued him.

Keith thought all these months of being leader and flying the Black Lion would ease his self-doubts and make him more comfortable in his new role, but unfortunately that did not seem to be happening. He highly doubted it would ever happen really.

“Hey man, shouldn’t you be in bed?” a familiar voice called out behind Keith.

Keith crossed his arms defensively as he turned to greet Lance, still clan in his day clothes, with a stern frown. “I don’t know, shouldn’t you?” he countered.

Lance yawned loudly and stretched his arms in an exaggerated manner. “Awfully rude to answer a question with a question, Mullet head.” He took his place beside Keith and grinned playfully at the Galra-halfing, “Besides, I don’t need my beauty sleep as much as a certain someone.”

Keith rolled his eyes and scoffed at the Red Paladin, but couldn't keep the amused smirk from his spreading across his face.

Lance grinned at the small victory, but then his blue gaze grew serious as he asked in a lower voice, “Nervous about tomorrow’s mission?”

The air seemed to grow heavy around Keith as he tore his eyes away from Lance’s concerned expression and let out a weary sigh. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “a bit." Keith tightened his arms around himself and continued in a worried voice, “The plan is risky and we don’t even know if Shiro’s really on that ship.”

“Don’t think that. Kuron remembered seeing him in one of his memories.” Lance told him, his voice as steady and calm as an ocean wave. “And yeah, the plan is plenty risky, but it’s not as if we’re rushing in blindly. We have Kuron letting us know what to expect and you Pidge will be tracking everything that goes on.” Lance shot Keith a signature confident grin, “All of us are prepared and ready so relax, team leader.”

Despite the worries and doubts that still troubled his mind, Keith felt himself return Lance’s grin. It was hard to feel too depressed when around the former Blue Paladin’s enthusiasm. But another thought tugged at his mind- something he had been thinking about for quite some time- and it caused his grin to sink back into a frown once more.

Lance immediately noticed the change in Keith’s expression. He tilted his head to the side, watching the former Red Paladin curiously. “Is something else on your mind, Keith?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah…” Keith answered after a brief pause. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

He turned to face the Red Paladin, his violet eyes flashing with enough intensity to have Lance slightly flinch back in a nervous manner. The Black Paladin took a long, deep breath before addressing Lance without a single note of hesitation in his voice.

“Lance, if anything happens to me tomorrow or in the future, I want you to lead Voltron.”

For several heartbeats, a heavy, stunned silence filled the chamber.

“…What?” Lance spoke at last, sounding as though he didn’t quite understand the words that had just come out of Keith's mouth.

Keith calmly repeated himself. “I said, I want you to take my place as Head of Voltron if anything happens to me.”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!” Lance spluttered in a loud voice filled with shock and on the border of yelling, “I just can’t believe you’d say something like that!” He snapped his head to glare angrily at his raven-haired teammate, “Do you really think we’d let the mission screw up so badly that you’d get killed?! As if any of us would let anything happen to you!”

Keith had guessed beforehand that Lance would be surprised by his declaration, but was taken back by how furious Lance sounded.

“Lance, I don't doubt any of yous guys at all! But if there’s anything I've learned since becoming the Black Paladin is that we have to be prepared for the worst case scenarios,” Keith explained, trying to calm Lance down, “This mission will be one of the toughest since our face-off with Zarkon- a lot can go wrong and I need to know that if anything happens, the team will be in good hands.”

“The team’s already in good hands!” Lance retorted, shaking his head furiously in disbelief as if he couldn’t believe they were even having such a conversation. At least he did not seems so angry anymore, only frustrated. “Besides, when we rescue Shiro and something happens to you- which it won’t- then the Black Lion will choose him to lead again.”

Keith closed his eyes and took a small breath as if to brace himself before answering. “Yes, that is true. That could happen.” He then opened his eyes and stared unflinchingly at Lance. “But this is also a good chance that Shiro won’t be in any condition to lead once we rescue him.” He leaned a bit closer, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper, “You saw how bad Kuron was when we found him. Shiro could be even worst. There’s just no telling how far the Galra are willing to go when it comes to him! We've seen that firsthand!"

“I…I can’t really argue with you on that.” Lance admitted in a strained voice, his gaze wandering off to the side. “Shiro might need a bit of vacation after this whole fiasco.”

“So will you do it?” Keith prompted. A stab of disappointment went through him at the slow shaking of Lance’s head.

“Keith…buddy…I appreciate the vote of confidence, but you know there’s no way anyone would agree to me being leader. Pidge and Hunk think I’m just a dumb goofball. Allura would be the better choice- she is a princess after all.” Lance’s voice was low with resignation and his body seemed to droop at his own words. A part of Keith felt infuriated that Lance could think so little of himself.

Then again, none of us really helped him think any different. Keith told himself, thinking of all the times he and the rest of the team had teased Lance, not knowing that their laid-back teammate would take their words to heart.

“I already talked with Allura about this. She knows if worse comes the worst who my choice of leader is.” Keith said, earning a surprised look from Lance.

“What?!” The Red Paladin’s voice cracked with disbelief. “She agreed with this?!”

Keith hesitated for a few ticks before answering in a wary tone. “It….took her by surprise, I admit.”

Lance let out a loud, bitter scoff. “Knew it.”

Keith settled a firm hand upon Lance’s shoulder, causing the former Blue paladin to turn to him blinking.

“But in the end she agreed that you are the best choice.” Keith said, giving Lance’s shoulder a tight, reassuring squeeze. Seeing the confusion swimming in Lance’s dark blue eyes, Keith continued in a quiet, earnest voice.

“Lance, don’t you understand how much you helped me since I’ve become the Black Paladin? I was literally tearing the team apart by the second mission until you knocked some sense into me. You supported me despite our stupid rivalry and every time after I completely screwed things over.”

“You didn’t screw up that much. And every one of us supported you, Keith. I’m nothing special.” Lance said his voice barely above a whisper, his sad gaze lowered to the ground. “Besides, it’s the Black Lion’s choice. And in case you’ve forgotten, it clearly rejected me.”

“It rejected you then. But who’s to say it will reject you now?” Keith argued, unable to keep a small hint of frustration from seeping through his voice. “The Lions’ change their minds.”

“Why would it? Nothing’s changed.” Lance argued, waving his hands around to gesture at himself.

“You have!” Keith snapped, his violet-grey eyes burning into Lance’s face, willing the Red Paladin to understand.  “Maybe you weren’t ready to lead back then. But you’ve proven yourself time and time again that you’re willing to put the team above everything. Even if it meant you quitting the team- which it wouldn’t!” Keith added shooting his companion an irritated glare, recalling the time when Lance approached him with such a suggestion. Lance made a small grunt of acknowledgement but did not speak- obviously it wasn’t a memory the former blue paladin liked to dwell upon.

So Keith continued, “Allura and I…well…we can be selfish. When Shiro disappeared, I focused everything into trying to find him and left defending the universe to you guys. And Allura was even willing to risk Voltron itself by going inside a weird, dangerous wormhole to see if Atleans were inside.”

“All those are reasons are still pretty important.” Lance pointed out, his tone not unkind.

Keith shook his head, “It doesn’t matter- both of us put the team at risk. But you’d never do that- that’s why the Red Lion chose you. Because she knew the team needed you.”

Keith paused and then blurted out, voice filled with emotion, “That I need you, Lance. I could have never led Voltron without your help. And I know the Black Lion will see that how far you’ve gotten us.”

Lance stared, absolutely stunned into speechlessness at Keith’s outburst. His lips were slightly parted with no words escaping, and his blue eyes were wide, shimmering with an emotion that Keith could not quite name.

Keith wished his usually talkative teammate would break the loud, overbearing silence now filling the chamber. If anything just to distract the Black Paladin from the feeling of his face flushing red with embarrassment.

At last Lance spoke, his usually boisterous voice quiet and tinged with disbelief, almost frightened-sounding. “You need me?” he asked.

Keith forced himself, blushing cheeks and all, to face Lance. It anyone deserved the truth, he did.

“More than you could ever know. All of us do.” Keith told him, “That’s why I’m asking you this.”

Lance fell silent once more, but his expression was thoughtful. When the former Blue paladin nodded slowly Keith felt a seed of hope flare up within him.

“I still think you’re over-worrying about this. I doubt anything is going to happen at tomorrow’s mission.” Lance said, his voice tight and clipped.

“But…?” Keith quietly urged.

Lance sighed, but when he turned to face Keith, his expression was as solemn as the one he wore the day Keith became Black Paladin.  His blue gaze burned with unwavering determination as he spoke, “…But if worse comes the worst, then yes Keith, I will lead Voltron and keep the team safe, no matter what. I swear.”

A wave of relief, cool and clear like a rare desert shower, washed over Keith. With Lance’s confident reassurance, it was like a giant boulder of a burden had been lifted off Keith’s chest and the anxiety he felt about the upcoming mission seemed like a distant memory. He now understood why Shiro had been so insistent on making sure Keith understood his wishes on making the former Red Paladin leader-ready, no matter how much Keith had resented it.  Shiro had understood his own fragile mortality in this war for universe’s safety and had felt the need to make sure the team would be in good hands. Keith wondered if Shiro would approve of his decision of having Lance take his place if needed.

And Keith glanced at Lance- the team’s goofball brother, their ninja sharpshooter, their bold Red Paladin, his noble and loyal right-hand man.

Keith had no doubts about his choice.

“Thank you Lance.” Keith said, meaning every word.

He allowed a soft smile to spread across his face and was happy to see Lance return the gesture. “No problem, Keith.”

The two paladins fell into a comfortable silence, content on watching the infinite stars and galaxies of the universe they protected. Keith could not recall who moved first, but within moments Voltron’s leader and second-in-command were leaning against each other, shoulders pressed together. Neither wished to leave the warmth of the other’s company.

Keith felt the weight of Lance’s head fall on his shoulder.

“But you know nothing’s going to happen to you.” Lance said his usual, playful confidence back in his voice. “Not like with Shiro.”

“You don’t know that.” Keith answered grimly. I thought the same thing about Shiro.

“Yes I do,” Lance answered and though Keith could not see Lance’s face, he could hear a grin coming from him, “You know why?”

Keith resisted the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why?”

Keith shivered as he felt hot breath brush his ear as Lance tilted his head closer to him.

“Because I’ll be by your side,” Lance whispered, tone soft and so, so warm, “watching your back every step of the way tomorrow. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Something inside Keith’s chest seemed to burst at Lance’s words, bubbly and pleasant, seeping through Keith’s entire body like a liquid joy. Despite the dangers that were vastly approaching, Keith felt a sense of security that he only experienced inside of Red or Black, their purrs rumbling through him. For the very first time since Shiro’s disappearance, since the Lion Switch, Keith finally felt like this was where he belonged.

Keith gave way to the happy feeling, holding it close to his heart in hopes that it never faded, pressed close to Lance. He rested his head on top of Lance’s, enjoying the softness of the brown, fluffy hair tickling his cheek and replied softly, “I expect nothing less from our cool ninja sharpshooter. My right hand man.”

Lance gave a sleepy hum in response. Keith’s smile broadened when his teammate made no move to leave his side, but merely snuggled a bit closer.

Neither paladin spoke after that. Keith knew there was nothing left to be said. A deep instinct within the former Red Paladin told him that this would be the last time him and Lance would ever have a conversation like this. They both knew their roles and where they stood in this fight for the universe’s safety.

And that was together, fighting and supporting each other side by side as leader and right-hand-man until only death itself could rip them apart…

…but not without a fight.

[ladyvialana]

Fic: Onward

Final part of the Hope series.

Voltron Legendary Defender fic. Keith/Lance

Summary: Team Voltron get glimpses into Keith and Lance’s developing relationship.

Notes: post season 2, outsider POV, fluff

Also on Ao3

The team had just come off a rather difficult mission, so it was decided that they should find a quiet bit of space in which to park the castle and have a few quinants of rest. For the paladins, this meant no scheduled training or missions. Hunk and Pidge had decided to work on some of the projects piling up in Green and Yellow’s hangars. Allura was taking time to catch up on her rest after overexerting herself—again—creating too many sequential wormholes. Coran had intended to do maintenance in the med bay, but it was the last two paladins who disrupted that plan.

Keith had talked Lance into some light training after breakfast, not that Lance had needed much prodding to spend time with the other paladin. Hunk and Pidge had declined, citing something about special alone time that Coran was certain, from the context and tone, was not at all what the training deck should be used for. Lance’s blush and Keith’s scowl seemed to back his deduction.

(It would hardly be the first time the room had been used in such a manner. He decided pretending ignorance would be kinder than informing them of this fact. This new set of paladins had some strange notions about propriety regarding certain topics of conversation. Or at least when Coran discussed them. Earthlings. Strange species.)

It appeared, however, that the two were in fact training, judging by the injury to Keith’s arm.

Coran stopped at the threshold, about to call out and inquire if they needed assistance but stopped. Something about their posture seemed wrong.

Keith was sitting up on one of the examination beds, arm outstretched, a healing salve already slathered over the clean wound. It didn’t look too severe; Keith didn’t seem all that concerned by it. He was, however, very concerned with Lance, whose hands were shaking so much that the bandage he was trying to wrap around Keith’s forearm kept sliding off.

“Damnit.” Lance threw the bandages aside, the roll of white cloth unravelling as it made its way to the corner of the room.

“Hey.” Keith reached up with his uninjured hard to cup Lance’s chin and gently pull him close. “Lance, what’s going on?”

Lance twisted his head from Keith’s grip and refused to make eye contact. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Keith snorted. Even if Lance’s lie weren’t completely transparent, his voice gave him away by breaking on the word “fine”.

Lance let out a breath and his shoulders slumped. Keith reached out again to brush his fingers against Lance’s cheek; this time Lance leaned into the touch.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just tell me.”

Lance sighed. “We … we never actually talked, did we?” Keith tilted his head as he often did when unsure about something. “About this.” Lance gestured widely around him.

“The med bay?”

“Yes. Well, us being here. You being here. Getting hurt.” Lance reached out and let his hand hover over the wound on Keith’s arm, not touching but wanting to offer comfort. “You have a tendency to throw yourself into danger without thinking about how it would affect anyone else. How it might affect me.”

Keith hunched in on himself. “If I recall, you were the last person in one of those things,” he replied defensively, gesturing to the pods.

“I know. And I swear on this team’s life that it will never happen again.”

Keith inhaled sharply. “Lance … you … you can’t promise that.”

Lance stood up straight, Keith’s hand falling from his cheek. “Yes I can!” His indignation fled as he took in Keith’s upset frown. “Well, I can at least promise that I will do everything I can to avoid it coming to that ever again.”

Keith took in his determined expression and slumped forward, leaning his forehead against Lance’s chest. He grabbed at the front of Lance’s shirt with his uninjured hand. “Please do. I hated every moment watching you in there.”

Lance leaned over and wrapped his arms around Keith’s back, engulfing him with his presence. “You gotta promise too. Just seeing you with a scratch like that makes me fall apart.”

“I promise.” The words were muffled by Lance’s shirt, but firm enough for even Coran to hear tucked behind the wall in the hallway by the open door.

Lance let his head rest atop Keith’s, his eyes falling shut as a relieved smile crossed his face.

Coran backed away from the med bay and the intimacy of the scene inside. Maintenance could wait. There was sure to be some work still to do on the teleduv. Or the engines. Or the control room. Or anywhere that wasn’t the med bay, really.

Coran hummed as he made his way back towards the elevator. He was glad Lance had taken their talk to heart. He wanted to see what wonders those two would do together. Being able to see such a romance blossom was worth every painful memory in his life. He could only hope that all of his new charges would find some happiness in their lives as paladins and not just pain and war.

Though, judging by by the scene he just witnessed, his hope was not unfounded.

***

Allura was exhausted. Their last mission was just the latest in a series of drawn out battles that ended in their retreat from battle as much as it did in victory. The Galra were starting to recover from the loss of Zarkon and had found a new energy for their fighting spirit. The paladins, however, were down a Lion and could not form Voltron. They were quick and determined fighters, so they often managed even without Shiro and the Black Lion, but recently the Galra had seemed much more active and pushed further in their fights than they had before.

Perhaps the lack of Voltron on the field of battle had bolstered their spirits.

Regardless of why, the Galra were persistent in their determination to destroy Voltron and far outnumbered the small castle ship and four Lions. They could barely manage a few vargas rest between battles it seemed. Their last downtime had to be cut short for a distress beacon, and then another, and then another.

Perhaps it was this endless slog that truly brought defeat rather than a single decisive victory. Allura recalled how worn her father looked before he sent her to sleep, how downtrodden her planet had become as she walked through the streets.

She hoped it would never come to that with this new team, but she had very little idea how to stop it.

With a sigh, she relinquished the controls to the castle ship. They were in a safe place for now. She was adamant that they got some rest. They had a meeting with the Blade of Marmora in two quintants regarding another joint operation and she intended to spend that time ensuring they were all ready for battle.

Coran smiled at her from his control panel as she stepped down and moved to the door.

“Make sure you eat something too, princess.”

“Of course. You get some rest too Coran.”

“I will. I just need to finish calibrating this new frequency disrupter Hunk and Pidge came up with.” He laughed fondly. “Those two have some of the strangest notions but they always manage to make it work somehow.”

Allura smiled. “We are lucky to have them with us.”

“Indeed.”

Allura slipped out of the room, listening to the fading sound of Coran’s humming as he rewired his console. Her footsteps echoed in the hallway. She still missed the days when the castle was full of people. Walking, talking, living.

In time, she was certain, the castle would be full again. They just had to get through this war first.

Allura decided to pass through the common room on her way to the kitchen. It was the most lively room in the castle. The paladins were always making a mess and leaving their belongings all over the room (often where she could trip on them). Shiro used to joke about the bad habits of teenage boys which confused Allura; Pidge was far worse than all the other paladins combined.

On one of the long couches, Lance and Keith sat side by side, fast asleep. They had removed parts of their armour but still had their boots and leg plates on. Lance still had one of his gauntlets attached. Their helmets and chest pieces lay on the floor in front of them.

Allura should have woken them to scold them about properly caring for their uniforms but she couldn’t bring herself to do it this time. They were slumped on the couch, barely upright only because they were leaning into each other. Lance’s head lay on Keith’s shoulder, his body curled so that his hands rested on Keith’s thigh, one of Keith's hands trapped in his own. Keith’s head rested on Lance’s hair, his slow breath ruffling the short locks in a steady rhythm.

Even in the midst of war there was happiness and love. Allura could never forget that.

Instead of waking the two peaceful paladins, Allura found one of the blankets Hunk took to storing around the room and laid it over the sleeping warriors. Neither moved as it settled around their shoulders; they were so exhausted that possibly only a castle alarm would wake them. Even then, she was almost certain they would only wake due to habit.

She dimmed the lights and left them to their rest, continuing on her trek through the castle.

It was not, perhaps, as cold and lonely as she first thought.

***

Hunk was trying to concentrate.

On their last mission, the team had made contact with a planet with abundant natural resources and the sort of civilised culture that Hunk loved to meet. Namely, they had a hospitality industry and a level of engineering that meant traditional recipes weren’t just variations of burnt meat on a stick with vegetables boiled over an open fire.

They had mills and ovens and agriculture. Irrigation. Indoor plumbing. Actual restaurants!

In particular, he’d been incredibly impressed with a cooking device that seemed to have multiple functionality as a food processor, a juicer and a slow cooker. It was like one of those ridiculous infomercial machines back on Earth and Hunk had to have one (for four easy installments of $19.95). Altean engineering was amazing, but there was something to be said about over-engineering. Like they did with “food”.

So while normally team Voltron would wave away any offers of rewards, Hunk had pleaded with the princess to let him have two of the machines as well as some produce. Considering that the Menvar had initially offered far more in regards to a reward (and were confused as to why such a simple and cheap machine would be of any value to a team of great warriors) and that he had the backing of all the other paladins, Allura had agreed.

Now, Hunk should have been happily engaged in the kitchen pureeing some fruit and baking up a feast with the first Menvar miracle food machine.

(The second machine was already sequestered in Yellow’s hanger waiting for him to pull apart to see if he could reverse engineer it or find a way to turn it into an ice-cream machine. Coran refused to let him pull apart or tinker with the food goo machines which might have been easier to repurpose given the consistency of goo. Hunk was glad he had potentially found another way. He missed ice-cream so much.)

Unfortunately, his plans had been derailed by two rather handsy paladins who had offered to “help” him with the celebratory dinner.

Admittedly, Keith was pretty good with a knife and Hunk knew he could trust Lance in a kitchen given how often he’d been roped into helping his family with all sorts of chores back home, including cooking. Individually, they made for great helpers and let him give the orders in his domain.

Together—especially now they were together—they were a disaster waiting to happen.

“Lance! Watch it!” Keith’s knife slipped on the chopping board, barely missing his fingers, when Lance brushed up behind him and slid a hand up the back of his shirt.

“Sorry.” Lance’s cheeky grin belied his remorse. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith looked over his shoulder with that stupid challenging grin that never failed to get a rise out of Lance.

And of course, Lance didn’t disappoint. He pressed in close behind Keith and slid both his hands around Keith’s waist, lingering on his hips and pushing down underneath——

Hunk slammed his cooking spoon down on his bench top with a loud smack that had the two jumping away from each other and staring over at Hunk in shock as though they had actually forgot he was there.

Hunk was in no mood to deal with this. “No! No! Out!” He pointed firmly at the door.

Lance had the gall to look offended. “What? Hunk, I——”

“No. I don’t care.” Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. “This is a place of peace and happiness and food and you two are disrupting the positive vibes.”

Keith, at least, looked a little abashed but Lance was still pouting. “But what about the taste testing?”

“Pidge is gonna be my taste tester from now on.”

“What?!”

“You forfeited that right the instant I saw you try to give Keith——”

“Okay!” Keith was bright red as he interrupted Hunk. He clapped a hand over Lance’s mouth and pulled him towards the door, not even stopping to remove his borrowed apron. Lance struggled in his hold, still trying to protest being thrown out of the kitchen. “We’ll leave.”

Hunk continued to glare at them. “If I ever find out you two have defiled my sacred space, you will be sorry.”

“I believe you. I promise, it will never happen.”

Hunk narrowed his gaze. Keith was way too embarrassed to be lying about this. Hunk just wasn’t sure he could trust Lance not to convince Keith into doing something stupid. “It better not,” he said in warning.

Keith nodded and yanked on Lance’s shirt to pull him completely out of the room. The door slid closed behind them but Hunk could hear Lance yelling indignantly as they moved away down the hallway. He waited until he couldn’t hear their voices any more before returning to his prep.

Hunk was happy the two of them were happy, really, but he was absolutely not kidding about catching the two of them in the kitchen. Maybe he could ask Coran about selective permissions on the door lock.

He also wasn’t kidding about Pidge being his taste tester but it probably wouldn’t be forever. Not that he’d tell Lance that. Seriously, he was happy his best bud was getting some loving, but Lance desperately needed to learn some restraint. Hunk did not want to see that sort of thing in public areas of the castle—especially not anywhere near his food. Why was no one else concerned with proper hygiene?!

(Maybe he should also ask Coran about investing in some extra sanitiser. Just in case.)

***

Pidge probably shouldn’t be up so late.

(To be fair, this was a self-flagellating refrain she repeated most nights, so it was no wonder she stopped listening to herself when it came to her sleeping habits.)

Thing was, she was so close to getting this internal sensor device working. It just needed a few more tweaks and then she could finally test it out. She hated leaving projects unfinished when they were so close to completion. She might have slipped off to bed a varga ago if she hadn’t just figured out a way around that weird frequency that distorted readings around the training deck.

She let out a breath and rubbed at her eyes. The lights in the hangar were starting to pulse and Green was grumbling as though she needed to sleep too. Maybe she could leave it, just this once.

Her software dinged. Her simulation had finished.

Green all the way. No problems. The program was ready.

Pidge grinned.

She scrambled to her feet and stumbled over to her workbench. She plugged her laptop into the lead that synced her hardware with the castle and hooked herself into the castle sensor systems—specifically into the sandbox she’d created and quarantined for testing her modifications. (Coran had insisted after that time she accidentally set off the fire suppressant system while trying to clean noise from the castle-wide intercom system.)

It took a few seconds to load, but a full map of the castle popped up on her screen.

“Yes! Pidge, you are a genius, if I do say so myself.” She let herself bask in the glory of success for a moment before her eagerness to dig into the system overcame her.

There were similarities to many other existing operational systems, which made sense given that many systems in the castle relied on the 3D mapping that lay at the base of most of the castle’s functionality. While Allura had direct access to the software that allowed her to scan for threats and tracking devices that were foreign to the castle, she didn’t have the ability to scan for entities, organisms, and devices that the castle considered friendly. Which could be a problem in case of an emergency and they got separated during a fire or trapped in one of the still unstable parts of the ship.

The functionality was there, already built into the system, it had just been turned off years ago (near the first launch of the castle, in fact) and the software had been corrupted over time. Pidge did understand why—theoretically, this was an invasion of privacy. But just being able to see where a person was in the ship wasn’t that much of a big deal, right? Most of the paladins knew anyway. It was hard to keep a secret with just seven (six) people around.

Ultimately, the decision would be up to Allura if she wanted to use the software or not and Pidge would abide by her decision. Allura would probably only ever want to use it in an emergency anyway and she had other ways to find threats so, really, this probably wasn’t going to impact anyone’s life in any significant way.

Pidge nodded, happy with her rationalisations, and dove into the software.

(She needed to make sure it worked, okay? And everyone was probably asleep in their rooms anyway. It was no big deal just this once.)

She flicked through the maps of each level, making sure the coding worked. She paid close attention to the training deck, but the weird frequency fluctuation didn’t disrupt the program this time around. The hangers were fine, all the Lions accounted for. Coran was in the break room by the engines. (She should probably bring that up with Allura; they needed Coran at his best. Those cots were seriously uncomfortable and the whine from the engines was not conducive to a restful sleep no matter what Coran said about his time on that cargo ship during his undercover operation as a mercenary.)

She reached the residencies and her fingers paused over her keyboard.

Everyone was not asleep in their rooms.

Lance was missing.

Pidge’s heart stopped for a moment and started beating faster. Where——

Oh.

A blue dot was snuggled up to a red dot in Keith’s room, so close that her first glance at the map missed it completely.

“Really?” She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.” Bad enough that the two of them started holding hands and kissing in the hallway, now she had to know for certain they slept in the same room (the same bed!) at night?

(It was absolutely not cute and heartwarming, okay?)

Pidge quickly finished her run through of the rest of the levels and closed the program, happy to leave any further testing for tomorrow now that she knew the software worked. She’d talk to Allura too and would be more than happy to never have to use the program except of in an emergency again.

Pidge yawned as she shut down her computer and unhooked the castle link. Her Lion nudged at her, filling her mind with the warm and cozy impression of her bed. Her back ached as she stretched out.

Yeah, okay. She should probably get a proper night’s rest for once.

She left the hanger and headed to her room, content in the knowledge that her team—her second family—was all safe and accounted for.

***

Shiro shouldn’t have been surprised at how easy it was to slip back into his role on the castle ship after being gone for so long, but there were many things about the team that surprised him after his long absence.

Well, his role—and the team—wasn’t exactly the same as before. Keith was still leading the team despite Shiro taking up the mantle of the pilot for the Black Lion. (Shiro was so relieved and felt so guilty about that, but Keith was thriving and the rest of the team supported him. Shiro knew he’d made the right call, but he still couldn’t help feeling like he’d just thrown his responsibilities into Keith’s lap and walked away without care. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t true, but every time he caught Keith with his shoulders slumped, giving in to his exhaustion, he couldn’t help the uneasy churning in his gut.)

So, yes, surprised, but more that the new role he now had in this team was so easy for him to fill—like they’d designed a hole around the possibility of his return even as they rearranged themselves and took on new responsibilities and positions within the group.

Shiro was incredibly proud to see what the team had accomplished in his absence and so touched that they still wanted him to be a part of it.

Pidge had cuffed the back of his head when he tried to say something to that effect and Hunk almost broke his ribs squeezing him in a hug.

“That’s not how families work,” Lance had said. “You’ll always be a part of us.”

Shiro had given up on pretending he wasn’t about to cry. He let himself go completely when Keith was the one to initiate the group hug that lasted almost half a varga.

(He loved them all so much; he didn’t even realise how much until he saw them again for the first time since defeating Zarkon. Hearing Keith’s voice, seeing Hunk standing so tall, Lance’s unbridled joy, Pidge running toward him. He sometimes still woke with the feeling that all of this happiness was a dream to keep him going during his captivity. But, whenever he walked out of his room, Allura was ready with a smile and warm tea and Coran was at his post, always watchful for danger. He started sleeping easier again. Each day was a step forward, a step further away from his nightmares, and Shiro was bursting to run.)

Missions were easier than he remembered. They weren’t a team still figuring themselves out now; they were warriors with experience and skill and a dedication to their cause. It was astonishing to see how much all of them had improved over time.

(Shiro had been right—Keith was a natural leader. He just needed the right team to trust in him. Lance was amazing in his support, he always seemed to know just what was needed in any fight—or even outside of battle. Pidge’s talents had been honed to deadly perfection and she was opening up to everyone; still so determined to find her family, she now let others help her and push her into taking care of herself even if it was only by distracting her and making her laugh. Hunk was amazing; he’d always had the potential, but he no longer seemed to doubt himself—he carried the title of paladin with a pride the drew others close and let them feel safe and cared for.)

The most remarkable change, however, was one Shiro didn’t notice until after their second major mission together with him back in the Black Lion’s cockpit.

There hadn’t been time to do much more than assess his team’s skills in battle and immediately obvious personal growth given that they’d had to fight skirmishes constantly as the Galra continued to push at the growing resistance. They’d only formed Voltron once before the last battle and it seemed to have shaken the Galra, who had likely thought the weapon gone for good.

This latest operation, aided by one of the rebel groups the Galra was so concerned with wiping out, had been a cause for huge celebration in the quadrant in how decisive the victory had been over the Galra fleet in the area.

Shiro had been back only two weeks, but he was already glad to have some downtime.

The planet they landed on was the meeting point for the coalition of planets in nearby systems they had liberated from the Galra. It was beautiful, with landscapes of blue-green grass rolling to the horizon to meet the pale green sky. The meeting place was an ancient city nestled near the hills in the grasslands, uninhabited but well-cared for by the locals. White stone rose from the ground in asymmetrical shapes to form buildings; roads twisted in circles, meeting up in crossroads decorated with flowers and bunting. In the centre of the city was a statue of an ancient deity with its head tilted to the sky and arms raised in supplication. A wide circle of cobbled stone surrounded it, filled now with people of many races come to show their gratitude and celebrate their freedom.

Shiro was delighted by the event; he hadn’t heard music in what seemed like eons. Food and drink were plentiful and all of the locals and coalition aliens chattered excitedly. It was cheering to see something good and joyful for once.

Someone cleared their throat nearby. Shiro had tucked himself into a nook on the edge of the circle, which was now filled with people dancing. Allura had sought him out.

She smiled and Shiro couldn’t help returning the gesture. It was so good to see her relaxing, to see her victorious in this war that had taken so much from her. He gestured for her to join him on the waist-high stone wall he'd claimed as his seat. She accepted his invitation and sat close enough for him to feel her warmth even under his armour.

“I never tire of sights like this,” she said, looking out at the whirling mass of people.

“I hope you never do.” Shiro stared at the brightly coloured lights strung up around the gathering place. The sun had sunk low enough that they had all been lit and now dazzled the crowd beneath with shifting hues. “I won’t.”

“I’m glad that we have some time to rest.” Allura picked up his flesh hand and held it between her own. “I wanted to see how you were coping.”

Shiro smiled at her, a genuine expression. “I’m actually doing well. Thank you.”

She stared closely at him, her lips pursed. “Truly?”

Shiro nodded, ducking his head bashfully as she continued to stare. “Honestly. Sometimes it feels like I haven’t been gone at all. And, despite the constant battles, just being with the team again has helped so much.”

“I’m glad.” She squeezed his hand but didn’t let go.

Shiro coughed, trying to draw back from the intimacy of the moment. “Things like this help too.” He gestured with his prosthetic hand to the crowd and the music and the lights. “It’s always nice to see how much of a difference we make.”

“Indeed.”

The two of them sat there, hand-in-hand, and watched the dancers turn around the circle under the light of the setting sun, watched over by a peaceful deity strewn with garlands of lights and flowers. The music flowed through the normally empty city and invited them all to join in and experience the joy.

Shiro sat up straighter as he spotted something unusual. “Oh.”

Allura perked up, following his line of sight to see what had him so startled. She relaxed when she saw what grabbed his attention. “Ah.” She looked at him with a mischievous smile. “You didn’t know?”

Shiro shrugged, still caught on the sight of Lance and Keith holding each other close as they danced. “I knew some, but I didn’t know this.”

He watched them move, saw how their hands clasped tight. He watched Lance dip Keith in a silly manoeuvre that almost tripped them and the three other couples around them. Keith swatted at lance’s shoulder, but he was laughing, eyes bright with happiness.

Shiro had never seen Keith smile like that, so unbridled and joyful.

And Lance: he moved with such grace and energy, but every motion of his body was attuned to Keith. His gaze never left Keith’s face and his own smile was so soft and delighted.

“He kept his promise.”

Allura looked at him quizzically.

Shiro shook his head, his own fond smile refusing to leave. “Lance. He promised that all he wanted was to see Keith smile.”

Allura’s smile was also fond as she turned to regard the two dancing paladins again. “I’m glad that Keith also makes him smile.”

“Me too.” Another thing that surprised him. He was genuinely happy for the two of them. They obviously cared so much about each other, and Shiro had also seen them in battle. They worked well together and looked out for each other. They made a fantastic team. “I’m glad they found each other.”

“I’m glad we all found each other.” Shiro turned back to Allura. “I can’t imagine my life now without any of you in it.”

Shiro squeezed her hand, doing what little he could to comfort her.

She hopped down from the wall, still holding his hand. “Would you like to dance, Shiro?”

Shiro’s eyes widened at the question. Allura waited patiently for his answer and he knew that she would accept whatever he decided to do.

He looked over her shoulder and Keith and Lance, still holding on, still smiling.

“You know what?” Shiro got to his feet. “I really would like to dance.”

Allura’s smile was more brilliant than every sunset he’d ever seen. It put the joyful festivities of this celebration to shame and left him breathless.

Shiro let himself be led into the crowd and wrapped up in the music and movement. He reveled in the feel of Allura’s hands clasped in his own.

He was home.

[okikouji]

Versatility: Lesson of the Heart (2/?)

Oh I will be I will be Silence will not cover me I will be I will be -I Will Be, Florence & the Machine

[ao3 link]

When Lance enters the control room no one raises their heads or even glances his way. As expected, really. He doesn't think they'd even notice the alarms going off, the way they're all huddled, sitting together and talking, sometimes one over the other or all at once. He walks towards them, hands tightening on the handles of the kitchenware he found. He listens in as he gets closer and abruptly stops. Slav's- he's going over a theory about where Shiro might've ended up with. Fine, they've all been doing that for the past few days. Nothing new there. The problem, however, is that he's already gone over this theory. Thrice now. The first time he'd given his theory was hours after they found the Black Lion empty, and by Slav's own admission, it was the most far-fetched theory he could come up with. He'd been there when they'd all agreed that it was no good (Pidge called it outright stupid). In fact, the very thing that told Lance that everyone needed to finally sleep was the fact that Slav had repeated said theory again hours ago, and Pidge and Coran, the first ones to shoot down said theory the first time, were nodding along. Hunk's rubbing at his eyes, Kolivan nodding off (Antok doing the same while standing), even Allura blinking her eyes rapidly like she was trying to keep them open only further proved his thoughts. Everyone was on the verge of crashing. Right now, Hunk has his arms resting on the make-shift table Allura pulled out from her usual place in the control room. He's got his head resting on one hand and Lance can see how he's got one eye closed. Pidge- Pidge is probably already asleep what with the way their head is down and glasses are falling off. Allura's rubbing at her eyes. Coran's moving his jaw around like he's got a weird kink to work out. Kolivan's got his eyes on Slav, while Antok stands rigidly behind him. Slav- Slav's still talking and he'd seem find if not for the fact that he's only got one arm moving and the others are just simply hanging, as if he doesn't even have the energy to cross them anymore. He's almost angry at all of them. Some of the brightest minds he's ever met and they can't tell that they need a break? But worry outweighs anger. He's got to get them to bed. Or maybe the pods at this point or- No, you know what he's equally worried and angry. With that in mind, he grips his chosen pot and pan as tight as he can and crashes them together, hard. (They're surprisingly loud, shocking even Lance.) Pidge jumps up at the sound and promptly falls backwards out of their chair. Kolivan jumps out of his so fast that he crashes into Antok and causes the other to fall. Hunk's face falls into the table with a thunk before he's suddenly sitting up. Coran- does something with his jaw that pops incredibly loudly, and freaky, before groaning and rubbing at his face as if in pain. Slav and Allura are the worst. Slav panics, jumps onto the table with no direction in mind, body moving in all sorts of ways (one of his arms manages to push Hunk out of his seat) until he almost crashes into Allura who promptly, or instinctively most likely, lashes out and punches him across the face. Allura, who doesn't seem to realize she just punched poor Slav in the face and is in fact trying to get out of her seat and swaying while calling out for the paladin to form Voltron. He almost can't believe it. He crashes the kitchenware together again and again. "Alright people, listen up!!" He shouts when they finally notice him, all looking at him with varying degrees of confusion and annoyance. It's fine. They'll thank him later. Or not. That doesn't really matter right now. "Lance! What is the meaning of this!?" Allura shouts at him. Hunk mouths 'dude, what.' at him. Pidge is glaring at him and rubbing at her head. "You're all going to bed that's the meaning of this," he says, putting his hands, fists holding the handles of the kitchenware, on his waist trying to call forth all the possible disappointed parent aura he has within him. He's a middle child not the eldest, but he does have little siblings. He should have some of that 'I know what's good for you right now so you better listen up' vibes within him. At the very least an iota of it. Allura bristles at him. "I beg your pardon?" Any other day and Lance would back down. Allura can get quite scary when she wants to be, and as probably her least favorite (he's self aware enough thank you very much) he really shouldn't be pissing her off. Today is not a day he's going to back down. "You heard me. You're all going to bed or so help me I'll figure out a way to get the castle to blast out my voice screaming at you all to go to bed for hours, don't tempt me." "Don't be ridiculous, this is not the time for games Lance!" Pidge calls out. "We've got to find Shiro-" "I know that!" he shouts. Louder than he meant to. He'll apologize later. "And we will! But right now you all need to rest, every last one of you, Keith too and I'll go scream at him next, but right now you guys are the priority!" "The Galra Empire will not give up," Kolivan says as if he needs to be reminded of that fact. "Finding your missing paladin and getting in touch with the resistance is a priority." Lance shakes his head. "You've all been up for days with no sleep and barely any food, I should know I'm the one who's been trying to get you all to eat!!" He huffs, continuing before Allura can interrupt him. "If anyone can find Shiro it's you guys I know that, guess what, I'm not actually an idiot, but the way you're all going none of you are of any help to him!!" "I don't see you helping any!" Pidge screams back, and almost falls, hands flying at her head and groaning. Lance shoves his worry down, and throws them all an unimpressed stare, raised brow and everything (his aunt Emily would be proud of how well he's imitating her right now). He sighs. "I know that. I know that," he repeats making sure they're all paying attention before continuing. "This is all I can do, trying to keep you guys ok. Keyword trying because none of you listen. Right now, I'm the only one who has probably gotten any sleep and very little at that. For crying out loud Pidge, you were asleep when I came in!!" Pidge, to their credit, looks chastised at that. "You're all dead on your feet, literally right now. Wait that's not how you use that word- Anyway! And you know what else?? Each and every single one of you is just throwing ideas right now and none of them are even being processed by your heads." "A lil' harsh there, dude," Hunk cuts in, "we don't have anything to go with here. No real starting point." Lance shakes his head. "I know, that's my point. I just heard Slav, for the third time now by the way, go over his theory of Shiro falling through the cracks on the universe at the same time that in paralleling universes in the exact same corresponding places in space had not only a supernova going off, a black hole swallowing down a planet made of diamonds, and, what was the last one? Ah, yes, a freaking soap bubble bursting. All down to the very same fraction of a tick, and with no clear answer of where he might've ended up anyway," he finishes, out of breath. "And let me just say, I'm good at physics, good ol' regular boring physics not theoretical physics and even I know that's quiznak. I mean biology's more my thing really, so maybe I'm just the idiot here but considering you'd already shut that theory down the very first time he said it, you'll will have to excuse me if I call you out on your bullshit." (Oh, that finishing touch was really therapeutic, no wonder his uncle Jorge curses open up a storm.) Everyone stares at him, wide eyed. "He's right," Hunk says, out of breath from how he'd been holding it in during Lance's rant. "I- I remember- oh jeez and none of us noticed-" "Fuck," Pidge mutters. "Oh dear," Coran says, voice hoarse. Allura and the Galra just quietly stare at him. Slav- the poor guy looks heart broken and Lance feels like an ass. "I was just- I was-" Lance sighs. "Look I'm not saying its anyone's fault or whatever, it's no ones fault ok. You guys are working so hard you just lost track of time and look, guys," he says motioning to Hunk and Pidge when he remembers something, "you know the Garrison's graduating exam right? The optional one I mean." They're confused for a tick before nodding at him. "No one ever passes that pain the ass," Pidge points out. The others looks confused. Hunk takes mercy on them. "It's not so much an exam as it is a game of sorts, you don't have to do it to actually graduate but lots of people do and have since the Garrison was established to- well, prove a point. You need a crew first of all, before you can partake in it. The exam is this: the Garrison will give your crew a theoretical situation that you and your crew must solve in the time given, usually about the same as one varga, get me?" he continues when the others nods. "Now each exam is very different per crew. Sometimes you have to figure out how to save a crew member who got trapped into the pull of a black hole while your ship is dealing with say engine malfunctions. Sometimes you gotta deal with your crew coming down with a disease you are only given the very and I mean very basics of the virus and how it functions and have to create a vaccine before your crew kicks it and you along with them. Sometimes it's totally stuff from like old school scifi, like how to escape a giant green hand in space." The others stare blankly at that. Hunk shrugs. "Point is," Lance starts, bringing the attention back to him. "That they always fail. I mean there's been like two cases of crews actually beating it, but the Garrison has almost a century of history to it so." He shrugs too. "But aside from the ridiculous stuff from old school scifi, a lot of those situations can be solved, and a lot of times crews will go back to the Garrisson with their results. Maybe it took them a day to solve their crew's exam, maybe a year or maybe ten, but they have solved them after they had time to think, and when they weren't working on a time limit or being super pressured. Having those results from the crews who try to solve their exams even after the time limit always give us answers to prepare the next crew should any of those situations ever come to happen in real life. And mind you, they're all usually one varga, sometimes less." "We're also on a bit of a time limit, my boy," Coran points out. Lance nods at that. "Trust me I know, but if you guys all fall really sick because you were desperately trying to find Shiro? I- I think he'd hate that. Maybe you've already come to an idea that could actually find him, and maybe you don't realize it because you're pushing all your pretty little brains to their limit. All I'm trying to say is this: Rest. Go get some sleep, I'm not saying sleep for three days, though like your body might really try for that at this point. Just sleep and eat when you wake up and get the ball going again. Who knows, one of you might wake up with a breakthrough." There, he said it. He can only hope they'll listen. "We've-" Allura starts. "We've worried you, haven't we?" Lance, he doesn't say anything. He evades everyone gaze, all suddenly heavy on him. Allura, the kind soul she is, takes pity on him and changes the conversation then, Lance sighs with relief. Now they just need to figure out who can keep an eye out for possible Galra attacks. "I'll stay here, princess," Coran says with a tired smile. "I'll make some of my famous Rexenill cocktail and keep watch in case anything happens." "I can stay with Blue just in case we need someone in the field fast," Lance cuts in. "Are you sure?" Allura asks. "You should rest too, Lance." "Nah, don't worry about me, I've been taken naps here and there. You guys all need the rest." "You sure, man?" Hunk asks, looking at him, his eyes on Lance's eye bags. "Psh, positive." Allura nods. "Very well then. I'll lead you to your rooms then," she mentions to Kolivan and Antok. "I can do that, princess," Coran says. Allura shakes her head. "No need, I can do this much. I'll bring you a blanket shortly, Coran don't worry." Lance coughs. "Uh actually," he says walking towards his station, putting the kitchenware down and pulling out his blanket and pillow from behind his seat. Everyone stares at him. Lance shrugs. "I did say I'd been taking some naps. Here, Coran, use this," he says handing them to Coran. The other smiles and pats his shoulder. "Thank you, Lance my boy." "Dont worry about it. Now!" he starts, all dramatic flare, "I got a Mulletman to get into bed."

Pidge snorts.

"What wha- Oh, not like that, Pidge," he frowns at them.

"Sure, Lance," they yawn out.

His frown deepens at them as they pass him by.

Hunk laughs as he passes him by too. "Make sure you get some rest if you can, dude."

"You got it."

Kolivan and Antok walk out with Allura. Coran takes the kitchenware from his seat.

"And I'll be taking this back! Would you like a cup of my famous Rexenill, my boy?" He asks Lance as they walk out.

"Nah, I'm good thanks. Oh, and if that's anything like coffee do me a favor and never tell Keith about it, he's totally the university freshman who dumps Monsters into his coffee to function."

Coran blinks at him. "I understood nothing and somehow everything at once, I'll keep that in mind then. Carry on, Lance."

"You got it," and for the first time in the last few days, he smiles and means it.

[junker-town]

The teams that wish they could have done things differently at the MLB trade deadline

Or, rather, the teams that I would mess with if I were in charge. Which I’m not. And you’re grateful for that.

The trade deadline was just 11 days ago. It feels like 40 months ago. The rumors were everywhere, hanging over the heads of losing teams, giving life to winning teams. Anything was possible. Justin Verlander on the Twins? Sonny Gray on the Rockies? The Mariners acquiring every single Tyler in baseball after Jerry Dipoto had a waking vision of a flaming trade eagle? Which he has every other week? It was all possible.

Now we’re in the middle of August, and the teams are mostly set. Sure, Verlander still might get sent to the Astros. Other players will be traded. But for the most part, the teams that made moves have to live with those moves, for better or for worse.

These are the teams that would do things differently if the deadline were just 11 days later. Maybe. I don’t know. Probably not. Teams are stubborn.

There’s are the teams for which I would do things differently, at least. These organizations made their decisions, and I’m here to retroactively change them.

Cardinals - All-in

The state of the Cardinals is something like this: They have a rotation that’s so full, they can’t work in their best young prospect, who’s probably ready. Their current no. 3 hitter is a rookie shortstop who was injected with Temporary Serum of Stan Musial’s Pancreas, which they’ve fully synthesized at this point, but there’s no way to tell how long it will last. It was a season for Randal Grichuk and two for Allen Craig, but the serum is still pumping through the veins of Jedd Gyorko and Matt Carpenter. Total crapshoot.

And the Cardinals are winning. Like, a bunch. I was so very excited to crow about my preseason pick of the Brewers finishing ahead of them, but, as always, the baseball seasons are too long. The Cardinals are battling for first place in the NL Central, which is one step closer to meeting the Dodgers in the NLCS, which is their destiny, even if it looked unlikely a month ago.

At the deadline, there were talks that the Cardinals were interested in trading Lance Lynn, possibly to replenish the farm, possibly in a three-way deal to bring back an outfielder. Now that I’m in charge, I dial it back all the way before the deadline and get them J.D. Martinez, who was kind of the perfect fit and didn’t take a bevy of prospects to acquire for the Diamondbacks. I understand why the Cardinals weren’t interested in a rental back when they were spinning their wheels in the mud.

They’re probably cool now, though. And they would love to have Martinez.

Astros -- More, dammit

This is an obvious one, and I’ve written about it before, so I won’t belabor the point. But ...

Astros first 85 games: 58-27, 3.91 ERA, third-best in AL. Astros last 29 games: 13-16, 5.20 ERA, 27th-best in MLB.

— Richard Justice (@richardjustice) August 11, 2017

Yeah, that. Add in the surly Dallas Keuchel comments, and you have a team that’s lost a little puff of steam. Their main addition — Francisco Liriano as some sort of super reliever — has been a small-sample flop because he has trouble throwing strikes and hasn’t been used in short relief for years.

I’m torn, though. Do they give up prospects for Yu Darvish? Or do they beat the Yankees’ offer for Sonny Gray? Both seem daunting, but I’ll go with the Gray option because he would bring the Astros’ guaranteed payroll commitments up to, oh, $60 million next year and $30 million in 2019. That would give them the freedom to buy whatever complementary players their hearts desire to supplement their absurdly young core.

And they would have Gray for next year. It made far too much sense to work. But when Derek Fisher is in the middle of baseball’s first 60/60 season, maybe they’ll look back at this moment and laugh.

Royals — Sell, sell, sell

Oh, I know better than to doubt the Royals. They shouldn’t be here in the first place. For the first 45 days of the season, when I was writing article after article about how the Giants were on fire and running straight for the oxygen tent, I was mad at the Royals because they were so bad offensively that it forced me to write things like, “The Giants are the worst offensive team in the National League” or “the Giants are the 29th worst offense in baseball.” Ruined the impact.

Then the Royals started winning and winning, and while they didn’t exactly go on the same streak as the Dodgers, they were 44-27 after a 10-20 start. They were in position for a wild card slot, and that’s if they weren’t pushing the Indians for the Central.

Since then, they’ve gone 3-10, including getting swept in a four-game home-away stretch against the Cardinals, which put both teams here. They have six more games on the road trip (against the two worst teams in the AL), and then they’ll start a 15-game stretch against contending teams. If they can’t make up ground against the White Sox and A’s, they’ll be in a dilly of a pickle.

If I have control of the Delorean and I’m redoing their trade deadline, I’m selling. There would be no way to sell it back then. It would have been worse than the White Flag trade of the 1997 White Sox, a punch in the throat of fans who deserve better. That’s why I’m taking all of you with me. To explain.

The Royals have been outscored on the season, and their expected record is more like 54-60. The players they traded for — Brandon Mauer, Trevor Cahill, and Ryan Buchter — have all been terrible. The most important part of this endeavor, though, is that the Royals are going to be decimated by free agency. Eric Hosmer, Mike Moustakas, Lorenzo Cain, and Jason Vargas are either going to be so expensive that they’ll prevent the Royals from signing some of the other guys, or they’re going away.

In this new reality, the Royals can swoop in with Mike Minor to appease the teams disappointed that Brad Hand and Zach Britton didn’t go anywhere. They could have dealt Vargas when his value was as high as it has ever been. Heck, they could have kept Hosmer, Cain, and/or Moustakas to keep the exclusive negotiating window and the potential that one of them might accept a qualifying offer in a weird market.

They would have had prospects, they would have been facing the same confusing offseason, and they still would have lost just as many games. There was no way to justify it back then, but we’re here, and even with the Royals just a game behind the Mariners for the second wild card, I would be ready to pull the emergency chute.

Now let’s all kick back and wait for the Royals to win 10 straight, just to make the pundit look stupid. They’re good at that.

Mariners - Trade James Paxton for all the prospects before he breaks, then crawl into a little hole and hide there forever, because baseball is not your friend, baseball will never be your friend, baseball is trying to tell you something, Mariners, you’re not wanted here

Wait, that’s not nice. Dial it back a bit.

Mariners - Get at least one more pitcher

There we go. And this seems unfair because I loved their creative approach to filling out a rotation on a budget. Marco Gonzalez and Erasmo Ramirez were both fine additions for a team that didn’t have a ton of prospect capital to spend, and I applaud them for this.

That written, James Paxton might miss time with a left pectoral strain. That’s not an elbow or a shoulder, so maybe I’m making too much about this, but I’ve got the heebie-jeebies about this. Felix Hernandez has shoulder bursitis. Hisashi Iwakuma has issues with his shoulder, too. One of the pitchers they got at the deadline, David Phelps, has an elbow impingement, which always sounds like the most painful injury in baseball. Nothing is going right for the Mariners, who are resigned to the fact that baseball is their personal kite-eating tree.

Yovani Gallardo is back in the rotation, for example. After all those deals, all that planning, they’re back to where they started.

My suggestion is this: One more pitcher. It doesn’t have to be as creative as Gonzales or Ramirez. Something obvious, like Yu Darvish or Sonny Gray. Maybe if we go back and tell the Cardinals that they lose 14 in a row, they trade Lance Lynn after all. The Mariners looked like a team that would do well making some creative additions. It turns out that the dumbest, most heavy-handed prospect-for-known-quantity deals were what they needed the whole time.

If Paxton just needs a little rest, forget that I wrote this. But if he has to miss even two starts, I’m a little fidgety thinking about how the Mariners are going to maintain their contending status for the rest of the year. Paxton getting hurt right after Hernandez is absolutely brutal.

Although, I must say, isn’t it their time to have a streak of dumb luck? Shouldn’t this be when Gallardo throws six straight quality starts? We’ve seen the White Sox, Red Sox, Giants, and Cubs get it this century after not getting a lot of it in the previous century. The Royals climbed out of the depths. Why not the Mariners? Isn’t this their time? Is that too much to ask*?

* Yes

[teachanarchy]

“We talk a lot about race in this country a lot, but we don’t include you [in] the conversation… I’m interested in how you feel.”

That’s the open-ended question award-winning filmmaker Jose Antonio Vargas poses to young white Americans in his (aptly named) new documentary: “White People.”

The content of the film is interesting, but only scratches the surface. (To read a smart critique of “White People,” go here.) But where the movie succeeds is in bringing up a basic truth that, unfortunately, many white people in this country are still terrified to face: We have to start talking about and interrogating our whiteness.

We are two white women. We are also self-described progressives and critical thinkers, who write professionally about the way sexuality, gender and race intersect with the world we live in. Yet we still recognize an internalized reticence to engage in conversations about race and racism. Neither of us can remember a clear moment in our young lives during which we realized we were white, and what that meant. When we’re pulled over by a cop, our biggest fear is that we might get an expensive speeding ticket. We have always seen faces that look like ours on TV and in movies. All of these things speak to the depth of our white privilege — and the fact that people of color certainly can’t say the same. We do not live in a “post-racial” world.

The same way men need to be forced to confront, interrogate and reckon with masculinity in order to address sexism, white people need to face their whiteness. And it is not the responsibility of people of color to educate white people about race. People of color don’t need to be taught that racism exists — they live it every day. It shouldn’t (and can’t) be on their shoulders to enlighten the rest of us. We have to do that for ourselves.

Here are 11 things every white person who doesn’t want to be Part Of The Problem should know:

1. Everyone has a race — even you.

“Racism is the fact that ‘White’ means ‘normal’ and that anything else is different,” writer John Metta wrote in a blog published on HuffPost. Because whiteness is viewed as the “default,” white people have the privilege of distancing themselves from the concept of race or denying it altogether. The first step towards combating structural racism is acknowledging its existence — and the ways in which cultural ideas about whiteness prop up those structures.

2. For white people, talking about race is uncomfortable. For people of color, it’s a necessity.

No, talking about race isn’t fun. Confronting privileges and structures far larger than yourself — ones which you may feel you have little-to-no control over or no idea how to change — will always be uncomfortable. But… tough shit. “The entire discussion of race in America centers around the protection of White feelings,” wrote Metta. (See: “white fragility.”) Many people don’t have the ability to ignore these issues, because they worry that the color of their skin could mean dying in police custody after being pulled over for a routine traffic violation, or being killed for walking down the street wearing a hoodie, or being massacred by a white man in their house of worship. Discussions of racism can’t be dictated by the emotions of white people.

3. You’re not “color blind.”

You do see race. You make snap judgments. Pretending that you don’t see race simply means that you haven’t had to. Guess what? That’s the epitome of privilege. People who are discriminated against don’t get to just wake up and decide race doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t exist. Neither do you.

4. You need to recognize that you benefit from white privilege in order to move the conversation forward.

As one student in the documentary noted, as a white person, “you don’t have to prove you’re one of the good ones.” Think about how often that applies. If you’re pulled over by a cop, your innocence is assumed. If you’re looking to move, your neighbors will believe you’re a good person without any proof. If you’re shopping in a store, you won’t be followed by an employee. You don’t get to choose whether you benefit from white privilege or not — it’s the structures in place that automatically grants it to you. Denying that only makes you complicit in continuing that cycle.

5. #BlackLivesMatter doesn’t suggest that other lives don’t — it’s about making sure that black lives do.

Presidential candidate Martin O’Malley learned this lesson after he said that all lives matter at the Netroots Nation conference. Of course they do, but declaring it misses the point.

6. People of color are allowed to be angry about racism. Don’t dismiss that anger, take it in.

Social change requires making some noise. As the Black Lives Matter protest at the Netroots Nation conference proved, activists of color are going to hold all influencers — allies or otherwise — accountable. And doing so probably will involve “disruption,” fueled in part by (righteous) anger. As white people, we have to accept that anger is a natural response to being systematically oppressed. And it can be an effective tool. “Frustration. Anger. Silenced. Talked over. Ignored,” reads a post on Eclecta Blog, about the Netroots protest. “Every single one of these emotions are felt acutely and painfully every single day by racial minority groups in our country.”

7. Everyday racism is subtle and insidious.

Blatant racism is easy to recognize, and easy to separate ourselves from. As President Barack Obama stated in a June podcast, “It’s not just a matter of it not being polite to say ‘nigger’ in public. That’s not the measure of whether racism still exists or not. It’s not just a matter of overt discrimination. Societies don’t, overnight, completely erase everything that happened 200 to 300 years prior.” Racism is everywhere — black actors and actresses are sidelined in Hollywood. In the workplace, the wage gap hits black women and Latina women the hardest by far. And people of color experience racial microaggressions on a daily basis. (Comments like: “What are you?” and “You don’t really act black.”)

8. Words matter.

Before you speak, think about the impact the words you choose could have on the people around you. At one point in “White People,” a black student breaks out in tears when a white girl doesn’t understand why casually calling her white friend’s behavior “ghetto” was a problem. As BuzzFeed’s Tamerra Griffin put it, when a white person says “That’s ghetto,” black people hear, “That is a negative thing I associate with blackness and/or the working class.” See Griffin’s list of 14 Words That Carry A Coded Meaning For Black People for more phrases you should consider banning from your vocabulary. (Yes, describing a trend as “urban” is racist.)

9. The conversation about race implicates you, but your voice should not be at the center of it.

As Taylor Swift learned from her recent Twitter back-and-forth with Nicki Minaj, when people of color criticize structural inequality it’s not about you, personally. Again: It’s. Not. About. You. Personally. So don’t try to make it all about you. White people need to take responsibility for the big and small ways we perpetuate racism. But often that means taking a step back and listening to the people who are impacted by racism day in and day out. If you’re going to add your voice to a dialogue — which you should — make sure you’re adding value to the conversation, and not just silencing the grievances of people of color.

10. “Reverse racism” isn’t a thing.

Watch comedian Aamer Rahman debunk the term (really, do yourself a favor and watch this):

11. Don’t think you know it all — or even most of it. Listen, listen, listen.