#apparently i can only write pidge angsty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lazyfox411 · 7 years ago

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Not You, Not Me, but Us.

So I wanted to whump keith but then it turned into this whole long angsty established klance 14k+ fic that I spent months working on....yeah...somebody be proud of me lol its the longest thing ive ever written and I'm finally done!!!! thanks to @hastalalaterkeith7152 and @chasethethace223 for sticking with me throughout this mess XD

a slightly more coherent summary: while Lance is away on a business trip, Keith unwittingly shares a kiss with someone else. Lance doesn't take to this kindly, and throws Keith out in the cold. Unfortunately for Keith, bad people roam the streets at night.

warnings I guess for violence and injury even though I'm bad at writing fight scenes ahaha and alcohol use I guess, also a kiss and interactions that could be considered non-con, basically just use your own discretion my lovelies <3 id love to answer any questions you guys might have about this story

length is 14467ish words

“Come on, Keith, don't give me that look,” Lance pleaded, doing his best to avoid his boyfriend’s puppy dog eyes.

“But I'm going to miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even realize I'm gone.”

“Are you sure about that?” Keith asked, hefting Lance’s suitcase from the trunk of the car. “It feels like you packed everything but the kitchen sink. Just how long are you planning on staying?” he teased.

“I won’t be able to go anywhere at all if I miss my flight. Hurry up, I still need to get my luggage checked.” Lance pulled his scarf tight against the sharp January wind, and scurried towards the entrance, Keith just steps behind him.

Keith tried not to be clingy. He really did. But Lance was one of the few people in his life who hadn't left him, and Keith hated saying goodbye, even if it was only for a few days while Lance travelled for work.

“You need to let go of my hand now,” Lance informed him, chuckling.

Keith let go, then promptly pulled Lance in for a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel,” Lance murmured. “Just a couple of days, okay? It’ll be fine.”

Keith nodded. “Have a good trip. And be safe,” he called after Lance had shouldered his carry-on and strided to the gate.

He and Lance didn't live together, though they had been talking about it for some time now, but they spent almost all of their free time together at one of their apartments. When Keith parked the car- Lance’s car, that Lance had lent him while he was away- and entered his apartment, he found it dark and completely devoid of life. A thin sheen of dust covered the furniture, and this time Lance wasn't here to scold him for neglecting to clean it. Keith didn't need to counter with the excuse he had no time to clean, he was always working or spending time with Lance. He flopped onto the couch and closed his eyes. Maybe he could catch up on some sleep. Work wasn't just an excuse, it was the truth. He’d had night shifts at the pharmacy for the past week.

The next morning, he crossed off Monday on the calendar, and put a little star on Friday, the day Lance would return. Then he sighed, and got ready for work. At least he didn't have night shifts this week. And he had something to look forward to at the end.

By the time Friday evening rolled around, Keith was exhausted. All he’d done was work; he hadn't declined any extra hours since he had nothing else to do. He was more than content now to let his body meld to the couch, lungs huffing out a relaxing breath. Only three hours until he had to pick up Lance at the airport. They’d texted a little bit, but Lance was busy with meetings most of the day and Keith had work, and the difference in time zones made the whole thing a jumbled mess. It would be good to talk to Lance for real, face to face.

The sound of a notification from his phone woke Keith from a peaceful nap. He searched for Lance’s name in anticipation, but it was a text from Shiro.

Shiro> Party tonight. Just a couple university friends. Want to come? I can give u a ride

Keith> Can’t. I need to pick up Lance in an hour

Shiro> Bring him with u

Keith> He’ll probably just want to rest

Shiro> Ok then bring him home and then I’ll pick u up

Keith frowned. Something was up. Shiro was never this pushy.

Keith> I wouldn't want to go without Lance

Shiro> Hang on I'm going to call you

“Great,” Keith muttered. He picked up on the first ring.

“I’m sure Lance wouldn't mind if you came without him,” Shiro said immediately. “You deserve a break. You’ve been working all week.”

Keith sighed. “Why do you want me to come so bad?”

Shiro paused before saying, “Allura is going to be there.”

“Of course,” Keith groaned, “and you want me to keep you from making a fool of yourself.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Yeah, no,” Keith replied bluntly. “I need to pick up Lance, and I am not going to a party without him. Find somebody else to put on Shiro-the-Love-Struck-Blubbering-Idiot duty.”

“Come on, Keith, you’re like my wingman. Plus I have nobody else.”

“What about Hunk?”

“Busy.”

“Pidge?”

“Also busy.”

“Well, I'm busy, too,” Keith said in frustration. “Allura is just going to have to love you for the hopeless romantic that you are.”

“Thanks a lot,” Shiro said sarcastically.

“Anytime,” Keith replied, matching his tone perfectly. The call ended.

He was just about to leave for the airport when he got another text.

Lance> Hey babe. Flight got cancelled bc of the weather. I was really hoping to see you tonight :( but the next flight out isn't until tomorrow

Keith sank back into the couch and dared a peek out the window, where a few shimmering white flakes were gliding from the sky.

Keith> Ok no problem. Just text me when you need to be picked up

He sent the message and pouted at his phone. One more night. He could wait one more night. Couldn't he?

Keith> I miss you

Lance replied with a collection of carefully selected emojis, and Keith sighed. There was a tight, cold feeling worming its way into his chest. Maybe he should get a cat, a goldfish, something to cure the loneliness bubbling inside him. After a full week of keeping to himself, waiting for Lance, only to have his arrival put off by another painstaking day...Keith was sick and tired of being alone. It was that thought that made him open Shiro’s contact.

Keith> Change of plans. Come pick me up whenever

The house was enormous, set on a lake, the driveway a mile long and revealing through the trees a colorfully lit balcony that overlooked the glistening water. The air outside freezing, filled with the muffled sounds of loud music, but upon stepping over the threshold, Keith was hit with a blast of noise and heat that was generated by people pressed together, laughing and dancing and drinking.

“I thought you said only a few people.” Keith had to yell to be heard over all the music and voices.

Shiro just grinned and shrugged apologetically. He had lied.

Of course. Ever since enrolling for med school, Shiro seemed to have changed, dragging Keith to parties and outings, only to have Keith play third wheel for him and Allura, whom Shiro had been head over heels for ever since discovering she lived on campus nearby him.

Shiro was immediately pulled from Keith’s side by a boisterous group of partiers, leaving Keith to be jostled mercilessly through the crowd. People bumped his elbows, brushed against his shoulders, and breathed their smelly alcohol breath in his face. He couldn't see where he was going, the room was dark one second then alive with neon lights the next. The music blared, bass rattling through his bones and piercing his eardrums, warping the room around him into a colorfully numb, tripped out alternate reality. It was too much. All he wanted was to relax, not get stuck in the middle of this, heart pounding and chest tightening. He had to get out.

He had to get out he had to get out he had to get out.

Keith shoved his way to the edge of the room, away from the lights, away from the people. He pressed himself flat to the wall, wishing wildly for Lance. Lance knew huge social gatherings made him anxious, Lance knew he hated to be surrounded like this. If Lance was here, he’d gently take Keith by the hand, lead him away, somewhere quiet, somewhere safe, and sit with him until he could calm down. But Lance wasn’t here. Even Shiro was nowhere to be seen.

People were starting to look at him weird. Keith did his best to smile politely, and ducked away from the confused and somewhat disgusted faces, finding himself stuck behind yet another wall of people.

“Excuse me,” he squeaked, pressing through. And then he spotted it. A doorway. An escape.

It was slightly ajar, and whatever was behind was shrouded in darkness, but anywhere was better than where he was now, Keith figured. He pushed into the door, which delivered him into a narrow hallway. The air here was less stuffy, still stale, but contrasted by the cold, fresh breeze streaming in through an open window. Keith leaned his face on the cool glass, breath fogging as he gulped the night air like a drug, like it was his lifeblood. The music and voices were still loud, but not so glaring, separated by the door Keith slammed shut. Slowly, his heart rate decreased to something more acceptable.

While one problem had been solved, it was quickly becoming apparent that another had been created. Keith was essentially trapped; there was no way he was going back the way he’d come. People were screaming and now something glass was shattering. He looked around for another exit. The window was out of the question, it was way too high off the ground to make a safe jump. There was a door to his left, but upon turning the handle he found it locked. He heard a toilet flush from inside and decided he didn't want to go in there anyway. That left the stairs at the end of the hallway.

The damp, musty smell of basement got stronger with every step. Keith nearly tripped down the stairs when he heard a series of hair-raising, ungodly cries coming from what could only be a bedroom somewhere.

When he dropped off the staircase he was enveloped by a large room, stained white carpet underneath him and ductwork protruding from the low ceiling above. His shadow danced around the faded wallpaper, cast by the dim glow of a lamp that sat amongst the scattered furniture.

It was quiet here, or quieter. The commotion upstairs had faded to background noise, replaced by an old Pink Floyd album playing from a CD player. Keith grabbed a seat on a sinking, tattered old sofa, sparing a quick look around. The room was vacant, save himself and a couple seated on a couch against the far wall, making out. They didn't even stop to glance at him, and Keith sighed with relief. Maybe he could hide out here until things died down, then just head home. He had no idea what he’d been thinking. Coming to a party, when even he himself knew he was a loner.

He was a loner, but he didn't want to be alone. If only Lance were here.

“Mind if I join you?”

The voice clawed at Keith’s already shredded nerves and he let out a sharp gasp. He jerked his head around to see who it belonged to, and found himself looking into the jarring blue eyes of a stranger. He smiled at Keith, revealing a set of dazzling teeth.

“Uh, sure,” Keith said. He really wasn't in the mood for company.

The boy sat next to him, a little closer than Keith would have preferred, but he didn't say anything. This boy, or young man, Keith deduced to be about his age, maybe a little older, smelled like mint.

“Hey, are you okay?” There was that stupid display of teeth again.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Keith said quickly. “Just, um, parties aren't really my thing. Especially not this one.”

“Huh. I guess I'm a pretty bad host, then, aren't I?”

Keith felt his face go beet red. “You...host? This is...your?” He stammered, eyes going wide.

“Haha,” the guy laughed good-naturedly, “no worries, gorgeous. You didn't hurt my feelings. But hey, look at me, still being a terrible host. Can I get you anything? A drink?”

“Yeah, okay,” Keith said. Maybe that was just what he needed. His nerves were about to jump off a ledge, and this guy wasn’t helping, with his unnaturally perfect teeth and pointed chin and shoulder slapping and long blonde hair, so blonde it was almost white.

The guy, Keith still hadn't caught his name, vanished gracefully up the stairs. Keith searched for an exit again, coming up empty-handed. Well, he supposed, being stuck with one person is a lot better than being stuck with a hundred.

He returned surprisingly quickly, carrying two glasses and an assortment of bottles. He poured them each a drink and handed one to Keith, who hesitantly sniffed the sweet-scented liquid and then took a drink. He had expected the alcohol to rake down his throat, but instead it slid down easily and settled in his belly, almost immediately kindling a slow burn.

“So, what do you do?”

“Huh?” Keith shook himself from his thoughts.

“You know, for work. Like a job.”

“Oh, right. I work at the pharmacy, in town. Mostly stocking shelves.” The flush that had finally begun to recede from Keith’s cheeks was returning. He hoped it sounded like a boring job. If he was boring enough, maybe he would be left alone.

“Neat.”

No, Keith thought, not neat. I’m boring. Go back to your party, dude, you’re creeping me out. It was true, this guy, Keith still had no idea who he was, was even closer than before.

“You really don't want to be here, I can tell.”

Keith blanched. “What? No, no, it’s not that, I uh...”

“It’s okay. I get it. You've probably got way cooler things to do with your Friday night.”

Keith couldn't help but scoff out a laugh at that. “Are you kidding? The only reason I’m here is because Shiro practically dragged me. Do you know Shiro?” Keith asked, just in case. He should know who Shiro was, Shiro had said the owner of the house was his friend, hadn't he?

“Of course,” the blond-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Everybody knows Shiro. How long have you known him, though? I haven't seen you around campus.”

“No,” Keith cleared his throat, “I don't go to the university. Shiro and I have known each other our whole lives, pretty much.”

“Your name is Keith, isn't it? I think Shiro’s talked about you before.”

“Yeah, that's me.” Keith smiled a little bit. Somebody actually knew who he was. He wasn't some loser who was only here to be a third wheel.

“He asked you to come because of Allura, didn't he?”

“He did,” Keith laughed softly, “how’d you know?”

“You’re not the only one he drags places. And I gotta say, Allura is a nice girl. Not my type, though. I’ve...got my eye on somebody else now.” He flashed his sparkling teeth again.

Keith felt his ears go red for some reason, and he looked down at his lap. He was surprised to find that he was holding an empty glass. When had that happened? Had it happened more than once tonight? He couldn't recall. They’d been talking for a while.

“I can get you another one,” the guy piped up. Keith made a point to find out his name soon.

Something deep inside him told him that maybe this was a bad idea. Something was off. But he felt warm inside. He wasn't anxious anymore. He felt okay.

“Sure, I’ll have another.”

When he had replenished their glasses, Keith decided to ask, “Hey, what’s your nam-”

“Can I ask you something?” He was cut short.

“Okay.”

“Do you think,” the guy set his arm on the back of the sofa, strangely close to Keith’s shoulders, “that some people, even though they don't know each other that well, are just...really good together?”

Keith sat quietly, sipping his drink. He was confused. What was this guy talking about?

“You mean like Shiro and Allura?” Keith asked.

There were the teeth again, paired with a somewhat exasperated chuckle. “I guess, but I was thinking of someone else, someone...closer...” he trailed off, eyes rising and settling on Keith’s. It was unnerving. Like a tiger locking onto its prey.

Suddenly there were fingertips resting on his cheek, burning into his skin. Keith froze, eyes wide as an owl’s. The fire inside of him flickered, then was doused to smoke. The guy was leaning in. He was leaning in and he was kissing him.

Keith couldn't move. He was stuck, time had stopped, he was trapped and he was kissing someone. Someone who wasn’t Lance. Why didn’t he stop? Why wouldn't he move? His limbs didn't want to cooperate, his head was filled with white noise, he was frozen in shock, he couldn’t even breathe. He couldn’t get free. Why was this lasting so long, why couldn’t he make it stop?

When their lips finally broke apart, Keith was still petrified. He couldn't figure out what had happened or why. What had just occurred? What had brought it on?

The fingertips were coming at him again, probing his face, searching for another kiss.

“No,” Keith forced the word out of his mouth. “No, I...I can’t. I have a boyfriend. I have…” He had to get out. He had been wrong. One person was way, way worse than a hundred.

Keith stood up, fighting against the room as it spun around him. Whatever he’d been drinking was catching up to him. He needed out. Stairs. The stairs would get him out.

He darted up the stairs, feet catching and sending him sprawling. He shakily rose and continued the climb. He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to.

Upstairs, the crowd had thinned to a more tolerable throng. Maybe it was late, or early into the next morning, Keith couldn’t tell. Time wasn’t exactly working for him right now.

“Shiro!” he cried, spotting his friend’s undercut and broad shoulders.

“Heeeey, Keifth,” Shiro dragged out the words, and his pronunciation was more than a little off. Great.

There was a girl latched into Shiro's arm, and she appeared to be the only thing keeping him from toppling flat on his face. Judging by her undeniably beautiful dark skin and silvery hair, this was probably the Allura that Shiro never shut up about. So he had managed to woo her without Keith’s help after all.

“I don’t fthink really I can drive, man,” Shiro slurred, “I’m have to thpend the night here.”

“Yes,” Allura chimed, “I really don’t think he’s in any state to be behind the wheel. Will you be able to get home, Keith? That is your name, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He honestly wasn’t sure which question he was answering. Damn Shiro, standing there with rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, stupid grin plastered on his face. Making him come here, only to ditch him and get hammered and leave him stranded without a ride home.

“Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith muttered. “Nice to meet you, Allura.” He turned on his heel, and didn’t even care if anyone stared when he slammed the door on his way out.

His first thought was to call Lance. Lance could come pick him up. But no, no he couldn’t because he was away, and if Keith called him then he’d know he was at this party and maybe would figure out what had happened, that Keith had kissed somebody, somebody he definitely should not have.

A cab was his next option. He quickly found a number on his phone and punched it in, then sat down on the front step to wait. He'd rather freeze to death out here than go back in that house ever again. Though surprisingly, he didn’t feel all that cold. He was shivering, but he wasn’t cold. It was a strange feeling.

Keith woke the next morning nursing a slight headache. He cracked his eyes open blearily and found he was draped unceremoniously on the couch, jacket and shoes still on. He forced himself to the bathroom and splashed some cold water over his face, and as he reached into the medicine cabinet for aspirin, last night’s events came flooding back to him.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked dirty. He felt dirty. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, but now all he could see were those horribly perfect teeth. What the hell had he done? What the hell had he done? What was he going to tell Lance? Keith groaned. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. He didn’t want to deal with this at all. Sleep beckoned him, and he yearned to go, to fall asleep and forget this entire week had ever happened. The shrill buzz of his text alert made him wince.

Lance> Good news!!! Planes are flying today!!! My flight should arrive around 2pm, do u think u can pick me up?

Keith> Yeah ill be there

Lance> Can’t wait to see you!!!<3

Keith let out a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl, shuffling back to the couch. He wanted to just crawl in bed, but he knew if he did that there was a good chance he would never get up. What was he going to do? He couldn’t tell Lance. Could he? Lance would flip. Or would he? Lance seemed to freak out over trivial matters, but when things got serious so was Lance.

Keith didn’t know what to do. He was tired and confused and achy, and through his muddled thoughts he wondered if maybe he was making too big a deal of this. After all, he hadn’t been the one doing the kissing. He’d been kissed, yes, but he hadn’t started it, he hadn’t condoned it, he hadn’t asked for it. Surely, Lance would understand that. Wouldn’t he?

Waiting in the airport terminal, Keith felt sick. His hands were clammy and wouldn’t stop shaking, he was cold and queasy, sweating through his jacket but shivering as nerves churned in his stomach. He still hadn’t decided what he was going to say to Lance.

“Keith!” Lance's smile, though bittersweet to Keith, brought a sense of warmth and comfort. Lance jogged from the gate, dodging cranky travelers and luggage carts, and let his own luggage fall to the ground so he could wrap Keith in his arms and swing him around. The room was spinning when Lance set him down. He must have paled, because Lance seemed to notice something was off. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied quickly. He snuggled into Lance's embrace, breathing in his familiar scent. Not mint. Better than mint; he smelled like Lance.

“You sure? You don’t look so good,” Lance murmured, pressing a hand to Keith's forehead to check for a fever that was non-existent.

“I just missed you.”

“I missed you, too. So much. And I’m so glad I'm back, because the whole time I was gone there was nothing more I wanted to see in the world than your face.” Lance smiled sheepishly when Keith didn’t respond. “Sorry. Too sappy?”

Keith shook his head. “Lance, I… I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” Lance asked gently. He was still smiling, encouragingly, sweetly. Keith ran his gaze over Lance's beautiful, perfect teeth, the teeth he loved to see, the teeth that would never be pushy, or creepy, that would always care about him. He stared into the sea of Lance's eyes, getting utterly lost as waves rocked the pathetic little raft he was floating on. Waves of love, unconditional, undying love, they were drowning him. But it was so warm. So safe. Not like the warmth he'd felt last night, no, this felt good, this felt right, not forced, not rushed. Lance loved him. Nobody else loved him, not like Lance did. Nobody else had ever really loved him.

What if, after what had happened, Lance didn’t want to love him anymore? Keith didn’t think he could handle that. He couldn’t take the chance. He couldn’t lose the best thing he'd ever had.

“What is it?” Lance repeated, frowning as he watched Keith space out right before his eyes.

“Smile again? Please?”

“Uh, sure,” Lance chuckled, parting his lips awkwardly. Keith was sure. Those were truly the most gorgeous teeth he'd ever seen.

“You have really nice teeth,” Keith said.

Lance smiled wider. “Thanks. Now, I don’t know about you, but I am totally ready to go home.”

Keith nodded. Lance picked up his bags and put an arm around Keith's shoulders as they started walking. “Do you want to hang out at my place?” he asked.

Keith gulped. That didn’t sound like a good idea right now. “I’m…kinda tired. It’s been a long week.”

“No kidding,” Lance huffed dramatically. “That’s no problem though, I have some notes to go over anyway. Stupid business presentations…” he then launched into a detailed recap of his trip. Keith listened without really hearing, leaning into Lance's warmth, knowing full well he didn’t deserve to. He didn’t deserve Lance's affection. He didn’t deserve Lance.

Guilt. It had settled in Keith's stomach like a ton of bricks, hard, heavy, and painful. Storms roiled in the back of his mind, rumbling feelings of doubt and shame. He told Lance everything. Everything. And in turn, Lance was open and honest with him. So why, all the times that he'd tried to say something, to call, send a text, why had his fingers frozen, his voice stopped, lungs shriveled away inside his hollow, guilty chest? It wasn’t even his fault. He hadn’t been doing the kissing. But he hadn’t pulled away either.

It was eating him up inside, stomach twisting into knots and gnawing at his ribs like a lion licking its kill clean. Keith couldn’t stand it. He tried to tell himself he'd done nothing wrong, that he wasn’t at fault, but then, surely it must be? He couldn’t bring himself to admit to Lance he'd done something wrong. Because then Lance might not want him. And that rejection would be even worse than the one he was feeling right now.

He lasted about a week. Until he was shaking because he couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t function, knowing he'd done something that could hurt the person he loved most in the world, and he still hadn’t come clean about it.

Keith rolled over in bed and picked up his phone to check the time. 2:36 am. Sleep wouldn’t come, he was beyond tired now, practically zombified and just roaming the streets under a barely human disguise. What would Lance do if he were me? he asked himself, like he'd done countless times before. And he knew. Lance would feel awful. He'd be disgusted with himself, just as Keith was now. But he would be honest. Keith opened his phone again.

Keith> Hey r u awake?

Lance> Barely. Whats up

Keith> Can I tell you something

Lance> You can tell me anything babe. U alright?

Keith froze for what felt like the millionth time that week. You weren’t supposed to break up over the phone. Not that that was what he wanted. No, that was the last thing he would ever want. But it was easily what might happen.

Keith> I think it needs to be in person. Can I come over

He knew full well it was late. Or, technically early. But this couldn’t wait. Not any longer.

Lance> Sure

There was only one bus that made a run at 3 in the morning, and Keith was the only one on it. He paid the driver and stumbled out onto the curb in front of Lance's apartment. If he didn’t do this soon he was going to be sick.

As soon as Lance opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Keith's eyes were red, not teary yet, but on the way.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked immediately, leading Keith to the couch and sitting close beside him. Keith shied away.

“I…I need to tell you something, Lance,” Keith choked out, struggling to stifle the thick layer of emotion that was stuck in his throat.

Lance looked like he was almost scared, rubbing Keith's arm. “What is it, baby?”

The words came out in a rushed, stuttered mess, and once they started Keith couldn’t make them stop. “While you were-were a-away, Friday night, Sh-Shiro d-dragged me to this stupid party, and, and I told him, I told him I didn’t want to go, especially not without you, but he kept saying something about being a wingman, and I don’t know, I went, Lance. I went, and there was this guy, and he…we…kissed.”

Keith felt his heart clench when the hand on his arm stopped stroking, and Lance's face fell. There was a new expression there, one he hadn’t quite seen before. Hesitant anger, festering sadness, overwhelming confusion, all stemming from betrayal. And above all, hurt. It was a physical pain, beating throughout his entire being, to see Lance hurt. It was excruciating to know he'd caused it.

“You…what?” Lance nearly whispered.

“Lance, please, I'm sorry,” Keith pleaded, taking his boyfriend’s hand, “it was an accident, I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear.”

“You don’t just accidentally kiss someone, Keith.” Lance's eyes were cold. His voice shook.

“It’s not my fault, Lance. He kissed me!”

“Well, did you at least try to stop him?”

“I couldn’t! I don’t know, it was like I was frozen, I couldn’t move, I didn’t know what to do! It didn’t mean anything, Lance, you have to believe me. And it’s just been eating me up inside, I had to tell you, I'm sorry.”

“So the only reason you told me was because you couldn’t deal with the guilt.” It wasn’t a question. Lance jerked his hand away, expression steeling over.

“No, that’s not what I meant, I…” Keith desperately searched for any hint of compassion in Lance's features. It was fruitless. “I'm sorry! I didn’t want any of this to happen, Lance, I didn’t! I love you! You know that!”

Lance shook his head in exasperation, staring up at the ceiling with a humorless laugh. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Too good…to…what? What are you talking about?”

“You,” Lance waved his hands between them, “us! This! This perfect relationship, with the perfect person. It was too good to be true, because you can’t just go around kissing random people without meaning it! That’s not how life works, Keith! What about when we kiss, does that mean anything to you?”

“Lance, of course it does! It was just a kiss, okay? What we have is real, that was just…just…” Keith felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. His throat prickled. What was this? What was he doing? He wasn’t a crier.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Lance wasn’t usually a crier either, and yet here they were.

“What do you want to hear, then? I'm sorry? I’ll say it a million times, Lance, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I can’t believe you! You think I'm just going to bend over backwards because you apologized? I'm not that shallow. I'm not you.”

Anger and pain flared in Keith's belly. Couldn’t Lance see how awful he felt about this? Why was it so hard to forgive? It was one stupid kiss, and this was one stupid, stupid fight…

“I'm not perfect, okay, Lance? Surprise! I have flaws. I make bad decisions and I do things I regret. But you’re not perfect either!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lance cried indignantly.

“It means…it means,” Keith searched for the words. He could feel his lips trembling. “You're annoying! You sing too much, and you never shut up about your family, and you always spam my phone, and post too many selfies, and what about Nyma, at the office? You're constantly flirting with her!”

Lance's eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. “You really wanna go there, Keith? I can play the game, too. You work too much. You're impulsive. You never clean your apartment, and you refuse to get a haircut. And don’t even get me started on how clingy you are. God, you are clingy. And you're talking shit about my family? And accusing me of cheating, when you're the one who went and kissed somebody behind my back? I can’t believe I ever loved you!”

“Take that back,” Keith snapped. His entire body jerked with the force of the statement. He couldn’t see properly; his eyes were welled up with tears.

“I will not! It’s the truth!”

“Please, Lance,” Keith tried one more time, “I'm begging you, you have to know I didn’t intend for this to happen. Shiro dragged me there, and then we started drinking, and I don’t know, things just got out of hand.”

Lance looked like he hated Keith in that moment. Keith felt a strong, genuine urge to kiss him. He held back.

“Get out,” Lance hissed.

“But—”

“Get the hell out, Keith! I never want to see you again!”

Keith shakily rose to his feet. Lance wasn’t joking. He spared one last glance behind him, at the boy he loved, the only person he could truly be himself around, who hadn’t left him, the only person he could ever be happy with, the only one he ever wanted to be happy with. Lance glared back.

“I'm sorry,” Keith said softly, his hand on the doorknob. “I love you.” He left Lance's apartment for what might be the last time.

It was a cold, starless night. Wind whipped at his hair, and froze the tears that streaked his face. They kept flowing, steady and frigid, no matter how hard he wiped at them. Why hadn’t he brought a coat? Or some gloves, or a hat, or anything that might ease the numbness that was taking over his body. But perhaps that wasn’t entirely from the weather.

Even with the wind buffeting past his ears, Keith heard the telltale whine of heavy brakes. The bus. He was still two blocks away.

“No, no, no no no,” Keith muttered, willing his legs to move faster. He skidded around the corner, but it was too late. He stumbled after the fading tail lights of the bus, only to collapse in defeat against the hard, frosty surface of the bench that sat at the bus stop. The street was shrouded in darkness now, except for a single streetlight that hung above Keith’s head. A spotlight, saying “hey, everybody. Look at this loser.”

Keith put his head in his hands, fresh tears spilling into his palms. How had he managed to screw things up so bad? He hadn’t meant any of the things he'd said about Lance, Keith loved his singing, and his family, and he knew that Lance and Nyma were nothing more than friendly colleagues.

“Stupid,” he muttered, raking in breath, “stupid, stupid, stupid. You just had to go and mess it up, just like you always do. What did Lance ever see in you anyway?” Keith asked himself, face tipped to the sky as a dusting of precipitation—rain, snow, he couldn’t tell, he didn’t care—came falling upon him. Maybe this was for the best. Lance deserved so much better than him anyway, right? Right.

Keith shivered, wrapping trembling arms around himself in a useless effort to get warm. He would just have to walk home. He didn’t have enough money on him for a cab and there was no way was he going to sit around waiting in the cold for the next dumb bus to come.

The side streets were darker, but also faster, and so Keith ducked through alleyways and under sparsely lit streetlights towards his own apartment. He was pretty much all cried out, and what he could now tell was snow was washing away the salty mess that coated his cheeks. That didn’t stop a little hiccough from heaving out of his chest every so often. He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried.

He hadn’t gotten very far before he heard the crunch of pebbles against the sidewalk coming from behind him. A stray cat, maybe? No, these were footsteps, much heavier than a cat’s. A person. Keith quickened his pace, and the crunching behind him sped up, too. It was too dark to sneak a proper glance behind, but he was pretty sure he saw the glisten of a smile, menacing, hungry. After taking several random turns without shaking the guy, Keith was sure: someone was following him.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, clumsily scrolling through his contacts. Without thinking, he clicked on Lance.

“Pick up, pick up,” he hissed, almost jogging now, hoping to lose whoever was trailing him. Of course Lance didn’t answer. Who else was there to call? Lance was closest, and by the time he got ahold of Shiro, or anyone else for that matter, he could be dead meat.

It had just occurred to Keith that calling the police might be a good idea when it happened. He felt it more than saw it, another presence, a figure surging towards him from the depths of an alley. And before Keith could react, someone had grabbed him.

“Get offa me!” he growled, struggling against strong hands that pinned his arms behind his back.

The only response he got was laughter.

“I called the cops!”

“No, you didn’t.” Someone, a man with a deep, rasping voice, was bending over pick up his phone from the ground, where it had fallen, unlocked, from Keith's grip. Keith could almost picture the smirk on the guy’s face as he asked, “Who’s Lance?”

Up until now Keith had thought he only had two assailants; one holding him and the other holding his phone. But a third voice piped up, a snarky, weaseling tone that said, “Oh, look, you’ve got a little heart by his name. Why don’t we give lover boy a call?”

“Leave him out of this,” Keith snarled, trying to jerk his arms free. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“Don’t worry, we just want to have a little fun.”

A fist slammed into his gut at the word, and Keith bit back a yelp, gulping for breath. This was not his idea of fun. If he could just get free then he could fight back. He stomped on his capturer’s foot. The hands around his wrists loosened, and Keith jerked free.

He could see the dim outlines of the three men. They surrounded him, still laughing, a sound that haunted Keith from the party. It was a funny sort of laugh, like maybe they were drunk.

Still winded from having the air knocked out of him, Keith swung his arms up just in time to block another punch. He wasn’t completely helpless. He could fight. But against three angry lunatics…

His strategy was defense. Duck, block, swing, repeat. The darkness wasn’t helping. As soon as Keith felt his fist connect with something, someone else’s fist connected with him. The fresh snow was slippery underneath his feet.

He took a hit to the face that sent him reeling, the sickening metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth. He could feel it, hot and sticky, trickling from his nose, his lips, his knuckles, busted open.

Shaking away dizziness, Keith readied himself for another battering. He wasn’t prepared when two of his attackers charged him, pinning him to the wall. His spine rubbed against the jagged brick and he gasped for air as he fought their hold.

With two people holding him back, the third was free to do some serious damage. Keith couldn’t hold back the cries of pain that escaped him as fists and feet pounded him, no sign of slowing, no sign of mercy.

He wasn’t sure how far these people were going to take this. He didn’t want to find out. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t know if these people wanted to kill him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it happen. Using the two guys on either side of him to boost himself up, Keith aimed a kick that sent the third sprawling on the ground, crashing into nearby trash bins with a loud clash.

They were all tired. Keith could see it in their body language, the way their shoulders slouched beyond a normal fighter’s stance, the way their chests heaved. The one he'd kicked was still on the ground behind him, the other two backed into a corner in front of him.

Maybe he could win this. Maybe he could make it out of here. Maybe…

Maybe the guy behind him wasn’t as out of commission as Keith had thought. Because the next thing he knew, something had clocked him on the back of the head, and he went down, body smacking against the pavement, ears ringing, vision filling with brightly colored stars.

“Oh, shit.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know, and I'm not sticking around to check. Come on.”

Keith blinked wearily as the three people took off into the night, feet pounding against the sidewalk. He lay there in the alleyway, pain throbbing through his head, seeping into his limbs, searing across his chest. Tiny snowflakes landed on his skin. It hurt too much to brush them away. It felt kind of nice anyway, cool and soothing on the bruises that were beginning to swell. But it still hurt. Keith moaned as everything melded into one swirling, nauseating haze.

“Damn it, Keith,” Lance huffed, hovering over his phone. “Just answer me.”

Keith had called roughly ten minutes after leaving, which had prompted Lance to throw his phone across the room. But after staring at the wall in silence for the better part of half an hour, Lance had gone to retrieve it and sent Keith a quick text.

Lance> Hey

It had gone unanswered, so Lance had sent another.

Lance> I'm sorry I flipped out. Can we talk?

Still no answer.

Lance> Keith?

Lance> Keith I know you're mad at me but can u please answer just so I know you're ok?

Lance> keith

Lance> KEITH

And so that had led him here, pacing the floor of his apartment. The rational part of him—the part that was still furious with Keith not just for what he'd done, but also what he'd said—knew that Keith was just upset, and was giving him the silent treatment, payback for not picking up his call. But another part of him, the part that still cared, and probably would never truly stop caring about Keith—that part was afraid. What if something had happened him? What if his bus crashed? The weather wasn’t exactly great for driving. What if he'd gotten locked out of his apartment? It had happened to Lance often enough.

Lance knew he would never be able to sleep. He knew what he'd said had really hurt Keith, but Keith had really hurt him. Kissing somebody else? Lance would never have done that. He was a naturally flirtatious person, and he was well aware of it, but ever since he'd begun dating Keith, he'd made sure to be polite and nothing more to anybody else. Keith was the love of his life, and Lance would never do anything to jeopardize that. Even now that Keith had, Lance wasn’t sure he was willing to let go.

Lance> if you don’t answer me in thirty seconds I'm coming to find u

That was it. Lance pulled his jacket on, grabbed his keys, and went out into the snow.

Keith wasn’t really aware of time passing, but when he squinted out of swollen eyes, a dull, grey daylight was just beginning to sneak its way around the edges of buildings, still too dark to make out anything but shadows. He could feel the hard ground underneath him, and a pool of wetness that had been last night’s snow. He shivered, even though the cold was starting to fade, replaced by a strange, stinging tingle.

Pain stabbed at his chest when he drew breath, and a soft, whining moan left him on the exhale. Obviously no one had heard last night’s scuffle, because here he was, body throbbing against the wet cement. The melted snow felt good on his bruised skin, but that was about the only comfort he could find. Too exhausted and hurt to move, Keith lay there and let the world spin around him, hoping that someone would find him soon.

He allowed his mind to swim in and out of consciousness, listening to the gentle flutter of pigeons, and water dripping from rooftops. He focused on that, or tried to, tried not to think, not to feel the pain that coursed through his being. It was starting to disappear now, replaced almost entirely by the tingling sensation.

Everything around him was a blurry mess when he heard the squeal of brakes and slam of a car door, as if they were far away, separated from the real world by a fuzzy tunnel of time and space.

And then Keith heard his name. Is this what death feels like, he wondered, was some angel-voiced deity calling out to him?

“Keith!” He heard it again, louder this time. He knew that voice. This wasn’t some higher power, calling him to the afterlife. No, this was his boyfriend. He needed that voice.

“Lance,” he croaked.

“Keith, oh my god, what happened? Who did this to you?”

“Lance,” Keith rasped, “m’sorry. I...didn’t mean to—” he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as Lance touched his shoulder, and winced at the way his chest rejected the sudden intake of air.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Lance murmured, quickly pulling his hand away. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

Keith mumbled something unintelligible.

“Keith, now’s not the time to play tough guy. I need you to tell me what hurts and how bad, right now.”

“Ev’thing,” Keith slurred. “Pretty bad.”

“Can you get up? Keith? Answer me, buddy.”

Keith moaned and pressed his face further into the ground.

“That’s it, I'm calling an ambulance,” Lance said, whipping out his cell phone out of his pocket. As he dialed the three digits, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Keith's near-lifeless frame. “Hang in there. Help is on the way.”

“He’s sleeping, but you can go in to see him if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Lance sighed as the nurse let him into Keith's room. He eased himself into an old wooden chair next to the bed and let his hand find Keith's.

Keith lay there, fast asleep under a mound of blankets that moved with the steady rise and fall of his chest. He'd needed stitches in his lip, and in a few other cuts on his face. Lance couldn’t bear to look at the grotesque bruises that marred his soft, porcelain skin, and he busied his eyes with the cream walls of the room and pale blue curtains pulled firmly over the window. But he wasn’t able to keep his eyes off Keith for long.

He ghosted his lips over the tender skin of Keith's cheek in a delicate kiss, gently tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear.

“I'm so sorry, angel,” Lance whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“Are you two a couple?”

Lance sat up in surprise, averting his gaze to the doctor who had just entered.

“We’re,” Lance paused. Were they still a couple? Keith had kissed someone, someone who wasn’t Lance, and Lance had told him to get out, that he never wanted to see him again. A slight part of him had meant it, but…

“We’re really close,” Lance replied. “He is gonna be okay, right?”

“Yes. I know he looks pretty rough, but with plenty of rest he’ll be just fine. You're lucky you found him when you did, temperatures dipped fairly low last night. Too much longer and he could have begun to develop hypothermia.”

Lance pressed his fingers over his lips. He couldn’t do anything other than nod. Keith could have died. He could have frozen to death, all alone, because Lance had screamed at him and made him go outside in the middle of the night, in the beginning of a storm.

“It’s my fault,” Lance said. His throat felt tight.

“What do you mean?”

“I…we fought…and I told him get lost. I made him leave, he never would’ve gotten hurt if I would’ve just calmed down and let him stay. It’s all my fault,” Lance rubbed furiously at the tears starting to trickle from his eyes, “it’s all my fault.”

“Sir, if you can't remain calm, I'm going to need to ask you to leave.” The doctor looked at him, eyes caring but voice stern.

Lance nodded. He took a deep breath. “I know. I'm sorry. I just…when I found him, lying there, he was so small and so still I thought he was dead. I could never live with myself if he was dead.” Lance shook his head.

“I trust the police were contacted about the incident?” the doctor changed the subject.

“Yeah. They filed a report and stuff, and they’re trying to find whoever assaulted him. They're going to come by and ask Keith a few questions once he's feeling better.”

“Good. Well, that’s all I have to say, other than to remind you to keep the both of you calm and comfortable. Someone on staff will be by to check on Keith in an hour. If he wakes up before then, just make sure he knows he's safe, and tell him to go back to sleep. The pain medication will most likely make him drowsy, so it shouldn’t be a problem. If you need anything, the nurses are always walking the halls. Don’t hesitate to give us a shout.”

“Thank you,” Lance said as he processed the information. “Thank you so much, Dr…I'm sorry, I missed your name.”

“Smythe,” the man said, turning on his heel and leaving the room with a wink.

Lance settled down in the old, hard chair, sneaking his hand around Keith's once again.

The first thing Keith was aware of was a sense of weightlessness. He was floating. Maybe he really was dead.

That possibility was immediately ruled out when he tried sitting up. Pain flared through his ribs and seized his brain as the world began turning much too fast. He flopped back down with a groan.

“Keith?” The voice was soft on his pounding head. Exhaustion tugged at every fiber of his being, willing him to return to the blissful darkness of sleep, but he knew that voice. He needed that voice. He did his best to speak back.

“La,” was all he managed, still fighting the swimming haze that clouded his mind.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” Lance cooed.

Keith blearily forced his eyes open. He blinked, and slowly took in the view around him. “Where’m I?”

“You're in the hospital, love.” Lance hovered over him, speaking like he was calming an abused puppy. His face was pinched with worry.

Keith panicked. Hospitals meant you were hurt, bad. Hospitals meant doctors and needles and stitches and anesthesia and no knowledge or control over what was going on. He had to get out.

Trapped underneath the mountain of blankets, Keith writhed to get free despite the heavy ache of every bone in his body screaming at him not to. A pair of hands pushed him firmly back onto the bed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lance said quickly, “you're okay, Keith. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared,” Keith whimpered. He wanted to slap himself for admitting that, but he couldn’t think straight and he had no clue what was going on and he needed Lance to understand.

“It’s alright, baby,” Lance murmured. “You're safe. I'm right here, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Just lie still, you're safe now.”

Keith couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Lance was crying. “M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, no,” Lance said softly, cupping a hand under Keith's jaw, “you don’t need to apologize right now. Just go back to sleep. Can you do that for me?”

Keith nodded slightly, his movements already weak from exhaustion. Sleep overtook him easily.

When Keith woke up next, he felt a lot less weightless and a lot more aware. He tentatively touched his fingers to his temple. His head still hurt. Everything hurt, a dull, persistent ache that settled over him and wouldn’t go away.

“Lance?” he coughed. No answer. A glance around the room told him he was alone, the lights dimmed, doors and curtains shut tight. Had Lance been here at all, or was it just a dream?

Keith sighed. Lance wasn’t here; he had no reason to be. Any relationship they had was pretty much over. Lance wanted Keith out of his life, he had made that pretty clear.

After struggling to disentangle himself from the blanket mound, Keith rose to his feet. Or, he tried to. His knees wobbled and the room spun, and he gripped the edge of the bed to keep his balance. Being upright hurt more, and he could feel what little energy he had leaking away. He was shaking after just two seconds.

Keith froze when the door clicked open to reveal Lance, of all people, sipping steaming liquid from a styrofoam cup.

Lance's eyes widened. “What do you think you're doing?”

“I…um…” Keith stared at Lance blankly, knees buckling. He had no idea what he was doing. He might have been a little more out of it than he’d like to admit.

Lance sighed and set his drink on the bedside table amongst the many other empty cups and soda cans that had accumulated there.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Lance reached out to him.

“No,” Keith snapped, pushing the hands away. He didn’t want anybody touching him, not right now, not when he was hurt and confused.

“Yes,” Lance clipped off the word. “Bed. Now.”

“I don’t need to listen to you,” Keith said, warily eyeing Lance's arms coming toward him again. He really didn’t feel well. Too much longer and he was either going to pass out or throw up.

“Yes, you do. Doctor’s orders. And if you don’t follow them right away, I'm calling him in here. So get your butt in bed, grouchypants.”

Keith sunk into the bed with a grunt, and fumbled to pull up the blankets. It hurt to move.

“Let me help,” Lance offered. He arranged the blankets and fluffed the pillow with military precision, but there was something missing, a loving-kindness that Keith had grown used to. Lance pulled his chair closer to the bed. “How’s that?”

“Good,” Keith nodded. Then he frowned. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What do mean by that?” Lance tilted his chin back defensively.

“I'm just going to end up saying something stupid again. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. And I have a right to be here, I am both your emergency contact and the one who found you knocked out and shivering in the slush.”

“Lance, what happened?”

“What happened?” Lance asked incredulously. “Why don’t you tell me? You're the one who was half dead in an alley! Broken ribs, borderline hypothermic, concussion, multiple lacerations, whatever the hell that even means—”

“No, I mean…what happened to us?”

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh, Keith thought miserably. All Lance seemed to care about was that he'd gotten beat up. Not one of his best days, sure, but all that had stemmed from the now-missing link in their relationship.

“I don’t know, Keith. I don’t know. I love you, but I don’t understand how you let that happen, kissing some stranger while I'm halfway across the country. And it’s just killing me to see you all laid up like this, when it’s my fault for making you go out in that storm, in the middle of the night—”

“Stop.” Keith groped around the top of the bed for Lance's hand and eventually settling on grabbing his wrist. “S’ not your fault. I should have been more careful.”

“Can we just not talk about it right now?” Lance asked. “You need to rest, and I…I just can't.”

“Okay,” Keith whispered. He let go of Lance's arm.

“How do you feel? Somebody is supposed to come around soon to give you another dose of pain meds.”

“Spectacular,” Keith muttered.

“This is humiliating.”

“Keith, there is nothing humiliating about a wheelchair. There are a lot of people who would be very offended by what you just said.”

“No,” Keith groaned, “not the wheelchair itself. The fact that even though I am completely capable of walking on my own, I'm being forced to sit and have you parade me around the parking lot.”

“Completely capable? Keith, you almost passed out because you sat up too fast. Besides, I think it would be fun,” Lance said innocently.

“Well, it’s not. Just hurry up and push me. I want to get out of this damn thing.”

Keith was pretty sure he fell asleep on the ride to his apartment, because the next thing he knew, he was home and Lance was easing him into bed. Whatever drugs they’d given him at the hospital must still have been taking effect, because he was too tired to protest.

“Do you want a snack?” Lance asked. “Or a drink?”

“No. I just want to sleep.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Go home, Lance. You don’t need to look after me.”

“I don’t like the idea of you here all by yourself.”

“I’ve always been by myself, Lance. I'm used to it. You're probably tired anyway.”

“You got me there,” Lance sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Thank god for crappy hospital coffee or else I’d be flat on my face right now.” He chuckled. Keith couldn’t help but feel it was forced.

With some effort, Keith managed to roll onto his side. He looked at the other side of the bed, the spot that had always belonged to Lance when he slept over. Not anymore.

“I'm not going to leave you here alone,” Lance decided, raising his hand to block Keith's protests, “but I definitely need a nap.” He eyed the same spot Keith just had, but he seemed to think better of it, for he asked, “Do you mind if I use your couch?”

“Sure,” Keith said.

“Okay. Holler if you need me.”

“Sleep well, Lance.” Keith felt his face drain as soon as he said it. You weren’t supposed to say things like that to someone who didn’t love you anymore.

Lance looked a little surprised. Then his face morphed to something more neutral. Almost bored. “You too.”

Keith spent his first waking hours moping. He was bored, and wanted to get out of bed, but he was too tired and sore to really do anything. A simple trip to the bathroom was enough to wear him out. Looking at the spread of snacks and drinks Lance had left next to his bed, he was glad he hadn’t forced Lance to leave. But at the same time, having Lance here was driving him insane.

“Keith, you have absolutely no groceries!”

“This is a crummy apartment, Lance, not a five-star hotel. What did you expect?” Keith grumbled. He had to yell for Lance to hear him from the kitchen, and it was taking energy he didn’t have.

“I wasn’t expecting a four-course meal, but come on, you have to have more than Mr. Noodles.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Lance’s head popped around the corner. He looked blankly at Keith in bed, buried in the comfort of what felt like a million blankets and pillows. “Forgive me, your highness,” he deadpanned. “I guess I'm stopping by the store on my way back from work. What are you going to do while I'm gone? I can call Shiro to come stay with you.”

“No, don’t bother Shiro. I'm fine by myself.”

“He’s a med student, I'm sure he'd like the extra practice.”

“Shiro didn’t spend thousands of dollars in tuition fees to watch me hobble around the house eating Mr. Noodles.”

Lance sighed. He sounded tired more than anything. “Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” Keith repeated for the thousandth time. “Just go, before you're late for work.”

Lance nodded. He looked back at Keith, sadly, as if he were an injured animal. Keith caught his eye and Lance's face hardened. And then he was gone.

Keith didn’t mind Lance complaining about his lack of groceries. What he did mind was having Lance simultaneously taking tender care of him and then hating him for his betrayal. Why was Lance going through all this trouble for him if he hated Keith now? Keith didn’t know where he stood at this point. Maybe Lance was only here out of pity. Keith probably looked pretty pathetic, laid up in bed with only microwavable pasta to eat. But Lance had insisted he stay in bed as much as possible. Keith didn’t want to upset him any more than he already had.

Maybe that was part of it. Upsetting each other. Keith thought about what he’d do if he was in Lance's shoes. Yes, he would be angry. He would be furious, and hurt, and confused. But he couldn’t think that he would ever stop caring about Lance entirely. It just wasn’t possible to not care about someone who you had once loved. Who you still loved. If Lance still loved him then maybe he had a chance. Maybe he wasn’t going to be cast out, just as he had been cast out from his family, from school, even from Shiro after his first year at university. All those times Lance had tilted Keith's chin up, told him not to worry, that he would always love him, that it didn’t matter what his family said, because Lance was his family now—those had all meant something. They still did. Lance was a part of who he was now, and nothing was going to change that, whether Lance ever forgave him or not.

Moping aside, Keith also got in some restless nap time. It was in the middle of one such session that a knock at the front door roused him.

“Hullo?” he asked groggily. “Come in.” He wondered vaguely why Lance would be knocking. Maybe it was to be formal. Formal usually meant broken up. They might really be broken up. Then it occurred to him that whoever was outside might not be Lance.

Keith bolted out of bed so fast his head spun. He crept out of his room and towards the door, wrapped loosely in a blanket. Lance wouldn’t be knocking. Who would? Were tax collectors still a thing? Keith had never seen a tax collector. Maybe it was charity. Charity was good. What wasn’t good was if Keith had been somehow tracked to this apartment. Maybe the guys in the alleyway were really out to get him. For what, Keith had no idea. But they would come in, and beat him up again, or worse, and Lance would come home to find the mess and Keith would feel awful all over again.

He was on the verge of hyperventilating and jumping into a fighting stance when the door swung open gently to show Shiro, standing on the porch. He let himself relax.

Shiro looked him over, a sheepish smile quickly giving way to a grimace. “You don’t look so good. Lance told me what happened, how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.” Keith scowled, blankets dragging on the floor as he made his way back to the couch.

“Listen, Keith. I'm really sorry. This was all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. You're not the one who kissed some other dude, are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

Shiro blinked. He shook his head. “I thought Lance was just angry you went without him.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Keith said. He pulled his knees to his chest. It hurt his ribs, but he felt safer this way. Shiro wouldn’t see the gaping hole where his heart used to be. No one would see how broken he was.

“Keith, you okay?” Shiro lightly brushed against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Keith replied. His mouth felt dry. His eyes didn’t. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

“You know you can talk to me.”

Keith sighed. What the hell, he figured. If he didn’t tell Shiro, then Lance would.

“I…I messed up, Shiro.”

Shiro sat closer to him, nodding, encouraging. Understanding. For the first time in a long time, Keith caught a glimpse of the Shiro he knew. The Shiro he trusted.

“I'm sorry,” Keith whispered as he began to shake. This was too much. It was all too much. Why had he been so emotional lately? He hated it.

Shiro understood. Somewhere beneath the newfound frat boy attitude, his old self shone through. “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, Keith. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Keith drew a rattling breath, one that hurt just about every part of him. “Lance might be breaking up with me. I don’t even know for sure because he won’t talk about it. He stays here in my apartment and looks after me, but he won’t talk about us.”

“He just wants you to focus on getting better.”

“How am I supposed to get better when he's making me feel so awful?”

“Tell him that.”

“I can’t.”

“You're going to have to.”

Keith sighed. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. Not with Shiro anyway. “What are you even doing here?” he asked.

“Lance texted me to come check on you.”

“Of course he did,” Keith groaned.

“Well, since I'm here, is there anything I can get you?”

Keith miserably sunk into the couch. “No.”

“Do you want to play checkers or something? You must be bored.”

“Checkers, Shiro? I'm not five.” Keith was, indeed, bored out of his mind, but really all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. His bed seemed even more welcoming than it had before.

“Okay,” Shiro replied.

They sat in silence. Keith shifted restlessly, but each time he moved he only became more uncomfortable.

“I’m really glad you're okay,” Shiro said softly.

Keith glanced at him. “Thanks.”

“I'm sorry I’ve been acting so weird. It’s just…” Shiro huffed, and dragged a hand over his face. “I’m not doing too well in school, and I guess I’ve just been trying to distract myself. But I'm getting it together. Starting with you. I apologize.”

Keith felt his jaw part in awe. Shiro was apologizing? Keith didn’t feel worthy of anyone’s apology. Especially after he’d just told Shiro what an ass he'd been to Lance.

“I mean it,” Shiro pressed.

Keith nodded. “Thank you.”

Lance came home late. Shiro had left hours ago, and Keith was still sitting on the couch. He had picked up a sketchbook and was working away on a detailed picture of the tv remote in front of him. He couldn’t watch tv because of his concussion, so he'd settle for this.

“Hey,” Lance mumbled. He dumped his stuff on the kitchen table.

“Hey.” Keith looked over at him. He was leaned against the table, eyes shut, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing.

“Sleeping on the couch can't be too comfortable,” Keith observed.

Lance gave a sort of half-shrug, half-nod. “Certainly not what I'm used to.”

Keith bit his lip. How was he supposed to say this without it seeming like he was just trying to get on Lance's good side? “You can take the bed tonight. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

Keith was surprised to see that Lance actually looked appreciative. He was not surprised to hear the answer, “No, it’s alright.”

Lance had taken his first advance at reconciliation well, so he decided to try another. “You look like you could use a massage.” Keith grimaced at how awkwardly that had come out. But it was something Lance had often done for him, and it was calming, and Keith could feel the tension coming off of Lance in waves. Lance declined.

“Okay,” Keith said. “I'm gonna head to bed, then. Goodnight.”

Lance didn’t say goodnight back.

The alley was dark. Water dripped from the pipes that ran up the sides of the buildings. Keith looked down at his hands. They were dripping, too—with blood. He looked up. Someone was hunched in the shadows before him, just out of reach. Keith leaned forward to get a better look at the hooded figure. He took a step forward. On the next step he found he couldn’t move his feet, and they stuck uselessly to the pavement as if he were part of a statue. He tried again, but the more he struggled the more stuck he felt, until a suffocating blackness yanked him free and rushed him against a wall. He was pinned there, by enemies he couldn’t see, without hope of escape.

Slowly, in one fluid motion, the figure turned to face him. Its eyes were shrouded with darkness. The only parts of skin visible were the thing’s hands and mouth. They glistened with blood, too. Keith sucked in a breath as it advanced towards him. It paused just before him, and he felt the impending sense of doom, waiting like a roller coaster teetering at the top of a slope. The mouth parted.

Keith jolted awake, gasping for air. He couldn’t breathe, his hair clung to his body in a sheen of sweat, all he could see was a row of perfect, sparkling, pointed teeth. He shuddered, nausea creeping up his throat, seeping into his nose, he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t see he couldn’t think all he knew was there was something evil out there and it had kissed him and it was after him again and Lance was going to be mad Lance already hated him Lance was going to tell him he was stupid and mean and ignorant and uncaring and awful—Keith threw back the covers of his bed and stumbled out, bare feet hitting the ice cold floor, washed in gray moonlight. He managed two steps before crashing against a dresser and tumbling to the floor.

Keith was still shaking, he could tell as he raised a hand to dab at the mess of tears spilling down his face, wondering what the hell he was doing here on the floor. He had to get up, he had to move, had to run, those perfect shining teeth were coming to ruin his life all over again. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get up, still couldn��t get a proper breath, couldn’t hear anything over the guttural sobbing coming from his mouth, and so he lay, skin exposed to the freezing linoleum. His fingernails found the edges of the floorboards, and he gripped as hard as he could. And he wept. He wept, because of the dream, because of Lance, because he was tired of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, and just tired in general.

The bedroom door creaked open. A pair of feet shuffled in, clad in a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. Keith squinted through the hazy mist of tears and moonlight, eyes following from the slippers, up the legs, chest, and to the face of Lance. It was stuck mid-yawn.

“Lance,” he whimpered. “Lance. Lance, the teeth. His teeth and he kissed me and I love you and I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Keith sobbed, “I never meant to, I didn’t want to, he had teeth and he kissed me, Lance, he kissed me and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

Lance knelt down, tentatively resting a hand on Keith's back. “Hey,” he murmured. “Hey, Keith, hey. What’s going on? Hey, hey, look at me, you're okay. You’re okay, it’s okay.”

Keith looked fearfully into Lance's eyes. There was no anger there, only concern. “Lance,” he croaked.

“Yeah, it’s me. I'm right here. I think you had a bad dream, buddy. Is that what happened? Did you have a bad dream, Keith?”

“Y-Yeah, I- I think so.”

Lance sighed. He sounded relieved. “Let’s get you back in bed. You're okay.”

With Lance’s steady hand on his back, Keith crawled back into bed. He couldn’t make himself stop shaking.

Lance sat on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Don’t go.”

“Yeah, that’s what stay means, silly.” Lance swung his legs up onto the mattress and leaned back. One arm pillowed his head, the other draped over Keith. “Try to sleep,” he murmured.

When Keith leaned into him, eyes shut tight, soaking up Lance's warmth, Lance wasn’t sure what to do. So he didn’t do anything. He held still, felt his arm rise over Keith's chest as he breathed. He soon stopped shaking under Lance's touch, and his eyelids fluttered, lashes brushing against Lance's skin as he drifted off the sleep. Lance wished he could do the same. But now he was torn, inner turmoil wreaking havoc like a tornado through his brain. He should be mad at Keith, right? Keith had betrayed him, for lack of a better word. But Keith was sorry. There was no doubt about that. And Lance knew he shouldn’t be bending over backwards because of apologies alone, and he wasn’t.

Keith needed him, that much was obvious as he clenched his jaw in his sleep and clutched fitfully at Lance's t-shirt. Lance rubbed his back, and murmured to him, and he settled. He'd never even considered the psychological effects getting jumped in an alley would have on Keith. No wonder Keith was being so high-strung and looked like he was about to lash out.

Lance felt like a horrible person. He'd made Keith go out in the dark all alone. He'd left Keith to deal with the aftermath of being attacked all alone. But was that really why he was here now? Because he felt guilty? No. He'd been assuming Keith deserved all of it. But he didn’t, not really. It hurt to see him suffer like this. That brought the question again; why was Lance here? It wasn’t pity. No. it was something deep. A connection. Love.

He still loved Keith. He would probably never stop. It was impossible to just stop caring about someone who you had invested so much time and emotion and feelings into. Even if something had changed, the feelings were still there. Feelings don’t just go away. Lance had never been one to ignore his feelings. He wrapped his other arm around the sleeping Keith and pulled him close.

Keith was still curled around him when Lance woke, his head tucked neatly into the crook of Lance's neck. His breaths were soft and even, starkly different from how Lance had found him last night. He was warm, keeping Lance from feeling the chilly edge of apartment air.

Lance would never know the reason, but he felt a hint of panic when Keith stirred. It was replaced by a softer, easy warmth in his chest when he looked at the way Keith's forehead wrinkled as he yawned, and he felt Keith's fingers curl tighter around him for a moment and then let go. His eyes flicked open lazily, and he blinked a few times, until his eyes found Lance.

A red hue crept onto Keith's face when he noticed Lance was staring at him. He realized he was wrapped around Lance like a human sushi roll, and he quickly disentangled himself.

“Sorry,” he muttered, voice still husky with sleep.

Lance didn’t reply. Instead, he said, “I have the day off today.”

“That’s nice,” Keith said.

“Yeah.” Lance decided not to mention that it was because his boss had heard about Keith's little hospital trip, and insisted that Lance take the time off until Keith was better.

“I'm hungry,” Keith said. “Did you buy groceries?”

Lance sighed, “No. I was tired so I just came back here.” He felt bad about it now, especially since Keith was finally showing some sign of an appetite since the whole ordeal.

“Oh. I guess I’ll go heat up some Mr. Noodles.”

“Hang on. Let me get dressed, and we can go out somewhere and get real breakfast. My treat.”

“Okay.”

When Lance was ready and Keith was bundled up in more layers than was probably necessary, they buckled themselves into Lance's car. Keith didn’t know where they were going, but Lance looked confident behind the wheel so he didn’t ask.

“Keith?”

Keith raised an eyebrow in Lance's direction.

“Who was it? That you—that kissed you?”

Keith bit his lip. This was a story Lance wasn’t going to enjoy hearing.

“I won’t get mad. I just want to know.”

The way he said it was sincere, so Keith told him, “I don’t really know much about him. I only met him that night, and, honestly…I didn’t even get his name.”

Lance frowned.

Keith sighed, “I was kind of freaking out, because I couldn’t find Shiro, and there were too many people, and then I ended up pretty much alone in the basement with this guy. He was kind of weirding me out at first, but he was nice, and I don’t know, we just talked. And had a couple drinks. I don’t know,” Keith repeated. He felt awful talking about it, but Lance deserved to know. “He just sort of leaned in, and…kissed me. And I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. It was like I was paralyzed. And when he pulled away, I guess I came to, I don’t know, but I told him…I told him it wasn’t right, I told him…I told him I had you. And that was all I needed. I got out of there right away.”

Lance was quiet, which was unusual for him. Keith stared down at his hands. He didn’t even look up when the car came to a stop.

“Hey. Earth to Keith. You still hungry?” Lance asked softly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Keith mumbled. He hadn’t really been eating enough lately.

Lance waited patiently for Keith to extract himself from the car, and walked by his side through the parking lot. Keith thought about taking his hand, but then decided it probably wasn’t a good idea.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was when he stepped out of the car, just following Lance. Only after walking past the large yellow M above the doorway and smelling the aroma of fry grease did he realize Lance had driven them to McDonald’s. Keith couldn’t help but notice how the other people waiting in line were giving him strange looks. They were probably concerned about his face, he figured, he still looked pretty beat up. Normally he wouldn’t be bothered but today he just felt so out of place he wanted to curl up and be a hermit the rest of his life.

Lance had noticed. “Why don’t you go grab us a seat,” he suggested gently, “and I’ll order us hash browns or something.”

Keith nodded. He liked hash browns. He was glad the breakfast menu was available all day; the analogue clock on the wall said it was more like lunch.

He picked a little table in the corner, away from the people, save for a sweet-looking old couple a few seats down. Keith sat and waited for Lance, busying himself with flicking some stray crumbs off the table.

“Hey.”

Keith looked up, expecting to see Lance, but he was met with a blinding smile and a swish of long ash-blond hair.

“You,” he stammered out, “w-what are you doing here?”

A shrug. “I guess I just like the company.”

“You need to leave.” Keith's voice was low. Dangerous.

He was ignored. “Man, what happened to you? Such a pretty face, all covered in bruises.”

Keith felt a snarl crawl up his throat. “Leave. Now.”

“Aw, come on. Listen, I just want to apologize. I was drunk, and impulsive,” he got closer with each word, “and what can I say, I'm weak for something so beautiful.”

No. This was not okay. Nothing about this was anything even resembling okay.

“Get away from me. You’ve ruined my life already, so just leave me alone.” Keith saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Lance.

“Hey, babe,” Lance said with fake cheer, sensing that something was up. He sauntered over with a tray of breakfast food. “Who’s this?”

“Someone who was just leaving,” Keith growled. Lance frowned.

“Damn, you said you had a boyfriend, but you never said he was this hot.”

That was when Keith snapped. Injuries and etiquette be damned, he was going to flatten this guy. Hands balled into fists, he lunged forward.

Lance beat him to it. The tray toppled to the floor, and the guy went flying over the nearest table with a crash of chairs. He didn’t get up. The old couple stared with mouths agape. Lance gracefully picked up the tray and stray food, as if nothing had happened. He led Keith out of the McDonald’s.

Keith couldn’t keep up with him, he was walking too fast. But Lance stopped in the middle of the parking lot, still gripping the tray. He picked up a hash brown and bit into it fiercely.

“That was him,” Keith explained solemnly.

“Yeah,” Lance said, oddly focused on eating his hash brown despite it having fallen on the floor. “I know. I knew the second I saw him.”

They went grocery shopping after that. Lance didn’t speak other than to ask about milk, “two percent or one?” Keith answered two, so they bought two. When they got back to Keith's apartment, Lance insisted on spending the rest of the afternoon preparing a “proper dinner. No more Mr. Noodles.” He refused to let Keith help, insisting that he go to bed and rest. Keith didn’t protest. He was exhausted.

It was hours later, from a deep and dreamless sleep, that Lance came to wake him.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You hungry?”

“Mflmsflrem,” Keith mumbled.

“What?”

Keith groaned and tried to wake himself up. He was pretty sure he could hear his bones creak.

“I see how it is,” Lance said, “you think I'm a terrible cook.” There was a small smirk on his face.

“I like your cooking,” Keith protested, doing his best to sit up, “I'm just stiff. S’hard to get up.”

Lance frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. “What hurts?”

Keith didn’t answer.

“Come on,” Lance sighed, “don’t be like that.”

Keith sighed. “Shoulders,” he shrugged a little, “ribs.”

Lance bit his lip and reached out a hand. “Can I?”

Keith didn’t say no, so Lance gently set his hands on his shoulders and prodded at the tense muscles.

“Gee,” he said. “You must be sore.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Keith muttered, though his voice lost all its edge as Lance began to rub the ache from his shoulders.

“Better?” Lance asked after a minute.

“Better,” Keith nodded.

“Alright. Let’s eat.”

Dinner was nothing short of fantastic. Lance had outdone himself with an array of what could only be described as comfort food, taste fit for a king, with enough carbs to fuel a full-grown moose running a marathon.

“This is good,” Keith told him. “Like, really good.”

“Thanks,” Lance grinned. Then he chuckled.

“What?” Keith frowned.

“Don’t pout,” Lance was still laughing, “you just, you got a little something.”

Keith just pouted more and grabbed a napkin.

It was after dinner, curled up on the couch, that Keith felt fatigue take over his body once more. He stifled a yawn and raised his head to ask Lance what time it was.

“No clue,” Lance said, masking a yawn of his own, “but I'm tired.”

“Me too,” Keith said. “I'm going to bed. You…you, um, don’t have to sleep on the couch. If you don’t want to. You can sleep in the bed…with me…if you want.”

The corner of Lance's mouth quirked up in what could almost be called a smile. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” he said.

Keith got up from the couch and gingerly stretched his arms. He trudged off to get cleaned up and into bed, thinking he would wait up for Lance, but once he was nestled under the covers, the gravity of sleep pulled his eyelids over his eyes, and he was dragged down with them.

The early hours of the morning replaced the dark peace of sleep with restless waking. Keith shifted uncomfortably and tried to force himself back asleep, but napping for so long earlier had given him no reason for more rest.

Lance was next to him, he realized after a moment, not touching him but close enough to radiate warmth. Curled up on the other side of the bed, wearing an old t-shirt of Keith’s, his small frame rising unevenly under the fabric. Lance wasn’t sleeping either.

“Lance?” Keith ventured tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“I…I can't sleep.”

Lance sighed. “Me either.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Keith felt Lance's eyes on him, and he turned his head to meet them.

“You,�� Lance said.

“Me?”

Lance nodded. “Honestly, you're all I can think about. The past few days have been hell. It’s not the same without you by my side, Keith. I...I’m not happy. I'm tired, and grumpy, and I miss you. I overreacted to this whole thing.”

“You didn’t overreact,” Keith said quietly.

“Fine, I wrong-reacted, then. Either way, I ruined everything, and now I'm just running around pretending I'm okay, because if anyone knew…if they knew, that on top of everything else, I screwed this up, too…” Lance roughly turned to face the wall. His voice was muffled in the blankets, but Keith was pretty sure he was crying. “All I ever do is make mistakes. And this just proves it. I've lost you. And now I don’t know what to do. I'm sorry, Keith. I'm sorry.”

“Lance,” Keith tugged at his arm, “hey. Come on,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

Lance sniffed and let Keith pull him to his other side. He shut his eyes and bit down on his lip. He heard Keith sigh, and then there was a hand, small and warm, rubbing his arm, and a voice, soft and safe, whispering it’ll be okay.

“You didn’t…you didn’t lose me,” Keith mumbled after a moment. “I still love you.”

Lance looked up at him with wide eyes. “I love you, too. Always. I don’t want this to be the end. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Keith blinked, slow and sure.

“Does that mean we can…we can be us, again?” Lance asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Keith smiled, “I think it does.”

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some-cookie-crumbz · 7 years ago

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Brainwash

Brainwash Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Blood warning! Knowledge or death isn’t just the Blade mantra because it sounds cool. There’s a bit of reason behind it. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: This prompt is incredibly short and also incredibly angsty! Strap in for a fun one, kiddos!

He had no idea what to expect when he saw medics running down the hallway from his room. He knit his brow as they started to turn away from the doorway, his blood freezing his veins when he saw blood covering their gloved hands. It wasn’t Galran blood, either, which he learned was a lighter shade of red that bordered on orange. No, the blood was the distinct red that he recognized from his battles of youth and injuries during his time as an intergalactic soldier of justice and truth. “No,” He mumbled shakily, freezing for a moment before he charged forward, starting the two medics.

He was the only part-human member of the Blade.

He was one of the only Earthlings in space.

There were only seven other Earthlings that the blood could have come from.

Only one of them would have had reason to be here.

But she shouldn’t be here.

They hadn’t made plans because he’d just barely returned from a mission.

He darted over, only to be caught by the arm by Kolivan. “Do not enter the room. We need to finish documenting the scene before we move the body,” He said evenly.

His heart catapulted into his throat. Body? Move the body? “What… What happened?” He wheezed out, trying to peer around him. He didn’t see much, but he saw one extended arm from around the corner of his bed, covered in blood from the elbow back down to where it disappeared. There was more blood speckled along her arm going up towards her hand, fingers loosely clutching what looked like the little crystal paper weight she’d gotten for him from a mining planet Team Voltron had visited. The small silver band on her ring finger was the only confirmation that he needed.

There was no question that it was Pidge.

“It was Rilumer,” Kolivan said calmly, stepping aside so that the medics could go back in. This time, they had a stretcher with them. “Apparently they used him to call her here with the communicator the two of you use to communicate. He sent a message pretending to be you to lure her here.”

The medics lowered the stretcher and hope fluttered at the sharp, shuttering intake of breath he heard Pidge release at being moved. She wasn’t dead! She could still be okay! “It would seem that one of Zarkon’s scientists was able to get a chip placed on him on your previous mission together. The chip allowed them to take control of him whenever they so chose. Zarkon and his must have seen their chance when you went against order to retrieve Rilumer on that mission,” Kolivan’s words snapped Keith’s attention back to him. The older male regarded him coolly, only a small ember of rage crackling in his eyes. “There is a reason we insist that the mission objective be more important. Situations like this occur because of young kit-brained fools like you thinking you know better. Hopefully this will serve as a lesson to you that our ways have their reasoning.”

“Sir, she is still alive,” One of the medics said as they started to wheel Pidge out. It was clear she hadn’t expected anything, given the casual sweater and jeans she was wearing, but also that she had fought with everything she had in her by all the gory defensive wounds littering her arms and legs.

“Get her to the medical bay immediately. I will send word to Team Voltron to see if they can get here with their healing pods. For now, do what you can to stabilize her; we cannot let Zarkon succeed in killing a Paladin of Voltron,” Kolivan said strictly.

“She’s going to need blood,” The medic said worriedly.

“I can give her some of mine!” Keith insisted, causing them all to look at him. He pressed one hand to his chest. “Pidge and I… We’re both blood type A. If blood types don’t match for humans, the blood can have an adverse reaction and make the receiver really sick. Please, I’ll go with you and you can give her mine. If it’ll save her life, take as much as you need, as much as you want!” He insisted.

After a moment of staring, Kolivan nodded. “Hurry along before she is past the point of saving,” He said calmly. The medics nodded and hurried along, Keith hot on their tails. He glanced back briefly, watching as Kolivan pulled his luxite blade from its holder and strided into the room. Most likely to deal with the brainwashed Rilumer. He shuddered briefly and turned his attention back to Pidge, taking her hand and giving a small squeeze to try and alert her that he was there.

He needed her to be safe right now. He could deal with all the guilt once she was well again.

#Voltron legendary defender #Keidge #Kidge #Peith #Kidgemas #keidgemonth2k18 #kidgemonth2k18 #Pidge Gunderson #Keith Kogane #my fics #tw: blood

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wingedwishestakeflight · 7 years ago

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Hi everyone! I’m sorry I couldn’t upload this last night, but I worked really hard on a short fanfic for Keith’s birthday! I am working on creating an AO3 account, so I’ll tell you when I get that up. Anyway, this is purely giggles and fluff; I hope you enjoy!

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Hand shaking, Lance gently squeezed the makeshift piping bag as he attempted to write out the letters. So far, so good. Currently, “Happy” was spelled out on the white icing that Hunk had carefully spread. Lance had desperately wanted to help decorate Keith's birthday cake, but Hunk had been a little hesitant, (and with good reason). He peered tensely over the edge of the table at Lance's detailed, slightly sloppy work.

“QUIZNAK!” he shouted suddenly. Hunk jumped.

“WHAT? WHAT HAPPENED??? TELL ME IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE A WINTER MURDER SCENE! OH, I CAN'T BARE TO LOOK! WHAT DID YOU LANCE – TELL ME!!!”

“Relax, Hunk. I just got my hand in one of your frosting blobs,” Lance said, licking the red from the side of his hand. Hunk glared as Lance went back to his work. He hummed as he piped, just barely moving his hips to the song. Evidently delighted with his work so far, a wide grin spread over his lips.

“Keith's gonna love this,” he said happily. Hunk grinned.

“Ooh, KeiTh'S gOnNa LoVE tHis,” he mocked, batting his eyelashes.

“Shut up! You know what I think of Keith. He's an obnoxious, angsty jerk – however, he is my rival and fellow paladin,” Lance huffed defensively, not sure why he was so in denial over it.

“Right. You do realize that you told me, right? But sure... it's totally normal to want to make your rival a cake...” Hunk mumbled.

“Obviously. How is that not normal? I could care less about his stupid mullet and his gorgeous eyes...” Lance rambled as Pidge silently walked into the room. He looked suddenly up as her bright green hoodie broke his concentration. She smirked smugly, high-fiving Hunk in triumph.

“Called it,” she said, not a single ounce of surprise in her voice.

“What?” Lance asked.

“Do you not hear yourself when you talk? Honestly, you two are the most clueless people I've met in my life! All you do is pine when you're not together, and all you do is argue when you are. Please just save that poor boy from his misery,” she sighed, skeptically glancing at Lance's decorations. Lance huffed and stuck his nose in the air. He set down the piping bag on the table and admired his work, far too pleased with himself.

“Done! Who needs a bakery when you can get ya boi Lance on the job?” he grinned.

Hunk and Pidge stared at it blankly, not sure what to say. They didn't want to stomp all over his happy mood, but there was something most definitely wrong with the cake. Let's just say that one of them would have to break the news that cake-decorating may not be in his future. Hunk slapped his palm against his forehead. Pidge bit her lip, trying to hold back a giggle. Lance looked at both of them after a moment of awkward silence. It had not been the reaction he'd been looking for.

He looked slowly down at the cake. His complexion drained to a shade that Hunk did not think possible his tan face could reach. He looked slowly back at his two friends. Then back to the cake. It was as if the castle was crumbling down around him and his feet were plastered to the ground. He wanted to scream.

“HOW THE QUIZNAK DID I MANAGE THAT?!?!?!!” he screeched.

Staring in disbelief at the cake, Lance was assaulted by the offensive red lettering. It now read, in very shaky handwriting, “Happy Birth.” Even worse than the ironic message were the questionable red hearts surrounding it.

Pidge lost it. She bust out laughing, gripping onto Hunk's shoulder for support. Hunk couldn't breathe.

“Ha-happy birth,” she wheezed. “Such heart.”

“Shut up!!! I blame you guys! You were distracting me,” Lance said sulkily, glaring. “I want to re-do it.”

“NO!!! It's way too perfect. Anyway, we don't have enough time,” Pidge said, a little out of breath. “I originally came in cuz Shiro sent me to see if you guys were done. He needs help wrapping a gift or something, and he needs to decorate the dining room.”

“WHAT?!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! I can't give him this!” Lance screamed, on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“C'mon, it's not that bad. I actually think he'll appreciate it,” Pidge reassured him. “At least you tried. And it'll taste great anyway!”

“That's because Hunk made it. I can't do anything,” Lance mumbled quietly.

“Looks like someone's thoughts were occupied with a certain birthday boy,” Hunk grinned, not hearing Lance's last comment. “C'mon, let's go help Shiro.”

Lance looked down despairingly at his decorating failure one last time before following Hunk and Pidge, wishing that he had drawn anything other than little hearts in that stupid red icing that turned out to be more permanent than ink.

A depressing groan met them from Shiro's room. He was surrounded by a sea of crumpled paper and large leaves from the strange bushes outside.

“Uh... I got Lance,” Pidge announced their arrival, gently pushing Lance forward.

“Hey! What's going on?” Lance asked, looking back disgruntledly at Pidge.

“I – I've been trying for hours. I can't wrap to save my life,” Shiro sighed.

“Why would you need to be able to rap? I mean, if that's what you called me for, I guess that I can try...” Lance asked, confused.

“I need to wrap a gift! I made him a new sheath for for Keith's blade, and the leaves from that bush outside make good enough wrapping paper for space,” Shiro explained.

“Ohhhh, I get it. Wow, you mean there's something the Great Shiro can't do?” Lance laughed, walking over to where his friend sat in denial. “Whoa,” he said, peering into the box containing the leather sheath. “This is incredible! You mean to say that you can sew like this but you can't wrap a gift?”

“I can't do everything, Lance,” he shrugged.

“Don't worry, I'm an expert at this,” Lance assured him, folding the giant leaf's corner over the edge of the box. Finally. Something I can do, he thought. “I have a big family,” he smiled.

“Thank you. You're a lifesaver,” Shiro smiled, standing up. Lance beamed “Hey, how'd the cake go?”

The short-lived smile fell from his face in an instant. Lance groaned. “Don't ask,” he said, finishing the parcel. Oh no, he thought. I have to find a gift for Keith somehow!

“It can't be that bad,” Shiro said, frowning.

“Oh, it's that bad,” Pidge snickered. Shiro tried not to smile. “Pidge, Hunk, can you start decorating the dining room? I'll be there in a moment.”

“Sure!” Pidge agreed, pulling Hunk along behind her, who winked at Lance.

Shiro looked down at Lance. “Could you go check on Keith for me for a minute? Make sure he's still busy,” he said.

“Oh – uh... sure,” Lance mumbled. “What should I tell him?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something. He just needs a distraction, and I don't want him to spend his day entirely alone,” Shiro said, walking towards the door. “And Lance – you need to have a little more confidence in yourself. And don't worry,” he added. Lance's brow furrowed in confusion. Don't worry? He watched as Shiro walked out the door. What could he have meant by that? He sighed, trying to think of something that could distract Keith from leaving his assigned cell – his room. He could feel the heat flooding to his face already. He had to tell him sooner or later. But it could wait for a while longer.

His thoughts were interrupted by an outburst of laughter from the dining room. Apparently Shiro had seen the cake.

Lance knocked softly on the door to Keith's room. What could he tell him? There was a moment of silence before the door slid open to reveal Keith, graphite covering his hand and smudged on his cheek.

“Oh – Lance,” Keith said, standing awkwardly. Lance wasn't sure that any of the paladins, except possibly Shiro, had been in his room. The only time Lance had ever seen it was when he had sought Keith out, confronting him about his worries of having six paladins. “Come in,” he said, gesturing into the room.

It was organized, but a little cluttered at the same time. There were detailed drawings covering the walls which he hadn't noticed before, and a sketchbook was laying open on his bed, a pencil resting in between the pages.

“Did you need something?” Keith asked, trying to lift the silence.

“Oh, uh, I wanted to tell you...” Lance took a deep breath. He ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe he should just say it. How bad could it be?

“Happy birthday!” Lance blurted out suddenly. “Shiro told me,” he explained quickly, noting Keith's surprise.

“Oh... thanks,” Keith muttered awkwardly, running his own fingers through his hair. That was stupid, Lance thought. “Really, thank you,” he repeated, noticing Lance's silence. Lance wondered if he had been the first one to tell him that today.

“Can I ask you... is there something wrong?” Keith asked.

“What? No! No, what would make you think that?” Lance laughed nervously.

“First of all, usually you never shut up, and now I can't get you to speak. Second of all, the only time you've ever deliberately sought me out was when you were genuinely concerned about something,” Keith said.

“Hey! I -” Lance started, crossing his arms, but Keith interrupted him.

“I didn't actually mean that as an insult, I just...” Keith mimicked Lance's movement subconsciously. Neither of them could take the awkwardness of the current situation. “I wanted to make sure nothing was upsetting you.”

The only thing upsetting me is how blind you are and how much I want to pull you closer to me by that stupid mullet, Lance thought, frustrated.

“No. I just wanted to say happy birthday,” he said again. “I didn't realize you drew so much,” he changed the subject, gesturing to the drawings surrounding them.

“Yeah, art was the only thing that was ever constant in my life,” Keith said quietly, stepping in front of the wall almost as if to block his view from something. “It was something I could always fall back on. I'm almost out of paper now.”

“You're really good,” Lance said, recognizing some of the sketches as planets they had been on or aliens they'd met.

“Thanks,” Keith looked down, evidently unsure how to take a compliment. Lance was infuriated by his adorable, soft expression. An idea sparked in Lance's mind. He should leave.

“You've got some graphite on your cheek,” Lance grinned. Keith automatically raised a hand to his face, pointing to his cheek.

“Here?”

“Higher.”

“Here?”

“Higher.”

Keith raised his hand again, but Lance pushed it away, leaning closer and reaching towards Keith's face, gently rubbing at the smudge on his cheek.

He wanted to pull his hand back. That was a bad plan – his hand was cradling Keith's face, and it would only take one small motion to pull him closer.

“Something has been bothering me,” he said quietly, hand still holding Keith's face. He had made his decision, and there was no backing out now. “But I'm not sure that you'll like it.”

“Try me,” Keith whispered. That was it. Lance. Couldn't. Take. It. Any. Longer.

He pulled Keith towards him, kissing him gently, one hand still holding his face, the other running through his hair, spreading through the soft, dark mullet he had longed to feel for too long. Keith's lips were chapped, but soft against his own. He pulled away after just a moment longer, hating to end the moment but afraid to go any further. Neither spoke for a moment, and Lance's heart was pounding so hard in his throat that he couldn't even swallow. He couldn't relax his tense body until he saw Keith smile.

“The smudge is still there,” Lance dared to joke, a laugh tugging at his lips.

“I don't care,” Keith grinned, pressing his lips against Lance's. A warm hand pulled his body in, and another tugged the loop of his jeans, yanking his hips closer. Lance reveled in the moment, letting Keith take the lead this time, drinking in every detail. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the desperate undertone in his movements. Keith kissed Lance just like he did everything else: dangerously and without thinking. And Lance loved it. Pidge was right; there was no one quite as clueless as them. Shiro was right; he didn't have to worry – not about rejection anyway. The only thing he had to worry about in this moment with his lips against Keith's and his tight heart pounding furiously against his chest was that, after all he'd survived so far, Keith might be the death of him. But that wasn't such a bad way to die.

Quite a while after Lance had come knocking on Keith's door to distract him, (which he felt he did a very good job of), he had rushed back to his room to try and put together his idea. It had taken a lot of time, a lot of careful planning, and a lot of paper, but he finally had a product he was pleased with. He hastily wrapped his gift and tucked it safely under his arm. It was finally time.

Hours later, Lance once again found himself outside of Keith's door. But this time he knew exactly what he was doing. He knocked, more confidently now. The door slid open and Keith beamed.

“Lance,” he greeted him. He looked happier than he had for a long time.

“I have something for you,” Lance said, stepping inside and thrusting the small parcel in his direction.

“You didn't have to-” Keith started, taking it. He glanced at Lance, then back to the parcel and gently unwrapped it. He stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to say. The purple cover had a delicate engraving of two constellations on it: Cancer and Scorpio. He opened it carefully, flipping through the blank white pages.

“You said you were almost out of paper,” Lance mumbled, looking down.

“It's beautiful – thank you Lance,” Keith said, reaching up to gently kiss his cheek. Heat flooded to Lance's face and he looked determinedly at the wall ahead of him.

“Hey,” he said, grinning, taking note of the drawings that Keith had carefully covered before. “Did you draw me?”

“Shut up,” Keith said, faking annoyance. Lance smirked flirtatiously.

“C'mon, we have a surprise for you.” Lance led a confused Keith out of the room by his hand, finally okay with the permanent red hearts on the cake.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” the whole crew shouted as Lance pulled Keith into the dining room. Keith stood in shock, completely speechless. A banner was hanging (slightly unevenly) from the wall behind the table. Confetti and small parcels covered the table and a cake sat in the middle of it all.

“Hunk and Lance made a cake for you!” Pidge said excitedly.

Keith blinked, unsure how to react or what to say. He had never really celebrated his birthday, because he had no one to celebrate it with. He blinked back stinging tears, determined not to cry. He felt uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on him – being the center of attention was not a familiar feeling. “Thank you, everyone.”

As they all sat around the table, Keith began to feel more comfortable with the situation, now that they weren't staring only at him. He looked at the cake and suddenly burst out laughing.

Lance smiled. He hadn't seen Keith laugh this hard in a while.

“Happy Birth?!!” he gasped. “Much celebrate.” Lance laughed too this time. Everything was okay. Keith turned to look at him for just a moment, smiling.

“Happy birth, Keith,” he said lovingly.

“Thank,” Keith beamed back.

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starryeyed-char · 7 years ago

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The River’s Curse

This is the first chapter of a Voltron/PJO crossover AU I’m writing. Posting today because it’s Percy’s birthday and Day 6 of VLD Whump Week- Poison! They’re all younger in this AU (Keith and Lance are both 15), and pretty much every character is going to be in it. If you want more details, you can check out the tags on AO3. Yes, there are multiple works. All other chapters I’ll just post a link for. It’s going to be really angsty (but also a decent amount of fluffiness) so get ready. Enjoy!

Summary: Lance McClain never wanted to be a hero. But he ends up at Camp Half-Blood anyway, thrown headfirst into a quest of danger, destiny, and demigods. Everyone seems to think that he's the chosen one, but... he's just a boy from Cuba.

Keith Kogane never wanted to fall in love. He learned at a young age not to get attached to people. Whenever he does, he ends up losing them. So, of course he just had to fall for the one person he knows he shouldn't.

Chapter One

They had to have made a mistake, Lance thought, gathering his small number of belongings into a backpack.

Greek mythology was just that; myth. As in, not real. And if it was real, he couldn't possibly be involved. That would be crazy... right?

Sure, he had ADHD and dyslexia, but what did that have to do with anything? It definitely didn't mean he belonged in this weird camp. Lance's family was waiting for him back home— both his parents, and his siblings.

The idea that one of the parents that he'd known all his life wasn't actually... that he could possibly be the child of a...

It was just ridiculous. Lance shouldered the backpack, and stood. He tiptoed around the bodies of the sleeping kids in the Hermes cabin, careful not to step on any toes.

The fact that Lance had yet to be claimed was just more proof to him that he wasn't really supposed to be here. Obviously, they'd made some kind of mistake. They had him confused for someone else.

But there was still that small voice in the back of Lance's head that whispered to him that it would explain a lot.

The fact that he always saw things other people didn't. That he could do things other people couldn't. That he'd always felt... different. Like he didn't quite fit.

But still, it was ridiculous. Lance was not a demigod, and he definitely wasn't a hero. He was just... just a boy from Cuba, who wanted to go home.

So that's exactly what he decided to do.

He hesitated for only a second before putting the bow and arrows he'd been using back in the armory, exactly where he’d picked them up two weeks ago.

Even though Lance was surprisingly good when it came to archery, and his aim had impressed that cool child of Hades... even though he loved using it, and it made him feel important for once...

There was just no way Lance would be fighting monsters. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. So, he wouldn't need the bow.

Soon enough, Lance was standing at the crest of the hill, right beside the tall statue that somehow created a magic barrier for Camp Half-Blood.

Lance hadn't paid attention to the details, as usual.

He tugged his jacket on over the orange shirt he still wore, against the somewhat cold night air, and picked the backpack off the ground.

With a final deep breath, he crossed through the barrier, and walked quickly down the other side of the hill.

Lance only looked back once, but it was enough to make tears start to well up in his eyes.

As wonderful as the camp was, it still wasn't home.

So Lance kept walking, unsure of how he'd actually get back to Cuba without any money. He could try and call his family on a payphone or something... the angry kid from the Ares cabin, Keith, had broken his cellphone as soon as he was brought to camp, and neither Pidge nor Hunk could fix it. Apparently, having stuff like that was a red flag to monsters.

Lance fortunately knew both his mom and his house's phone number by heart, but he was still worried that it wouldn't go through, or that his family wouldn't pick up.

“And just what do you think you're doing?” A voice interrupted his thoughts, and he knew exactly who it was even before he turned around to meet the angry purple eyes of none other than Keith, from the Ares cabin.

His hand hovered over the knife sheathed in his belt, and for a moment Lance wished that he had brought the bow, after all.

Keith Kogane was kind of famous among the other half-bloods, as Lance had learned over the past two weeks, but he couldn't see what was so great about him. Supposedly, Keith had been on the run from monsters for a while outside of camp, after running away from home at a young age. He was a year round camper, and an expert when it came to using a both sword and a dagger.

Lance just reveled in the fact that Keith was horrible when it came to target practice, and had somehow managed to flip a canoe.

Keith was also, coincidentally, the only demigod at camp with two magical items. Many people didn't even have one, Lance included, but Keith just had to have two.

He had some sort of silver knife that no one knew how he got. Demigods didn't even use silver, at least not the ones at Camp Half-Blood. Apparently it glowed, and could grow longer, but only if Keith was using it. Lance personally didn't believe a word, but Keith always carried it with him. He also happened to have a celestial bronze sword, which could transform from what appeared to be an ordinary cigarette lighter.

Because of fucking course it could.

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Lance asked, trying not to sound too defensive.

“It looks like you're leaving camp,” Keith narrowed his eyes. “But that can't possibly be true, because you'd have to be even more of an idiot than I thought you were to do that.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Lance muttered under his breath. “I just know I'm not supposed to be here.”

“Not supposed to—?! This is the one place where people like us belong!” Keith stepped towards the other boy. Lance instinctively took a step back.

“But I'm not like all of you,” Lance told him. “I don't belong here! Look, Keith, just go back, alright? If you pretend like you never saw me then you can't get in trouble with Iverson.”

“Where would you even go?”

“Back home,” Lance replied immediately. “Back to my family, in Cuba. That's where I belong.”

Keith just shook his head in disbelief. “You can't possibly think you'll be able to make it all the way to Cuba from here,” he scoffed. “You're a demigod. You'll just get yourself killed along the way.”

“I'M NOT A DEMIGOD!” Lance shouted, finally snapping. Keith stared at him in shock. “I'm... I'm not. Coran must've made some sort of mistake.”

“There's no mistaking it. If you were mortal, you wouldn't have been able to even pass through the barrier!” Keith insisted. “You're a demigod, Lance. You can't deny that now.”

“I'm not, though,” Lance said quietly. “I haven't... I haven't even been claimed yet, and I've been here for weeks. I don't have a godly parent, my parents are back home.”

Keith visibly bristled. “Lots of kids don't get claimed for a while! And it's basically confirmed you're a child of Apollo, with archery skills like yours. Or... well, some other campers think you could be Aphrodite, but—”

“I'M NOT!” Lance was shouting again, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. “I'M A CHILD OF ROSA SANCHEZ AND ALEXANDER MCCLAIN! I DON'T BELONG AT YOUR STUPID CAMP!”

With these words, Lance whirled back around, and continued his fast pace down the hill. After a moment, he heard Keith's footsteps following.

“You're going to get found by monsters before you've even made it halfway,” he informed Lance. “And you haven't even brought your bow.”

“Monsters aren't real,” Lance replied bitterly. “They're made up, and even if they weren't, I don't know what they'd want with me.”

“You know that they're real,” Keith pressed. “Or do you not remember the night that you got here?” Lance shuddered at the mention of it. Those glowing red eyes had haunted his dreams every night for the past two weeks.

“Must've been hallucinating,” Lance mumbled instead. Keith just snorted.

“And you seriously don't know what they'd want with you? Your father is an all powerful being; god of the sun, poetry, healing, and—”

“My father is back in Cuba waiting for me,” Lance interrupted, voice stern. “Same as my mother, and siblings. So, if you don't mind, I've got to get back to them.”

“You seriously think I would let you leave?”

Lance was about to point out that Keith couldn't stop him, before he realized that Keith was the one with the sword. He could very easily do so. “You'll have to drag my corpse back there,” Lance said harshly, instead. “Because I'm not going.”

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him, and Keith's steps stalled briefly before picking up the pace to follow Lance again.

“Jesus, Lance,” was all Keith seemed capable of saying.

Lance just shrugged, and kept walking. Keith followed, trying to find the right words to persuade the taller boy to come back with him, without having to resort to violence.

Soon enough Keith stepped in front of Lance again, seeing no better way to do this. He spread his arms, blocking Lance's path. He reminded himself that this was for the others own good, but it didn't feel like it with Lance glaring at him.

“I'm sorry, Lance,” Keith said firmly, not sounding sorry at all. “But if you won't come back willingly, then I'll be forced to knock you out and take you there myself.”

Lance simply continued to scowl at the shorter boy, silently contemplating whether or not he could outrun him.

His escape plans were cut short by the earth behind Keith exploding to reveal a giant snake, at least twice the size of them.

Lance had to wonder what his life had come to when his first thought was, this is the second largest snake that's tried to kill me this month.

Keith started to turn around to look, but the creature was already prepared to strike, and he hadn't even seen it yet. Lance's mind registered in a moment that anything Keith did would be too late, and in that split second he acted.

Lance rushed forward just as the monster dove, forcefully pushing Keith out of the way and putting himself in the snake's path in one movement.

He felt a sharp, searing pinprick of pain, and looked down just in time to see the serpent's head darting away from his side, ripping a shred of fabric from his shirt with it in its fangs.

As the snake moved to strike at Lance again, he found himself once again missing the bow and arrows.

A sharp tug on Lance's hood had him reeling backwards, and he gazed up to see Keith pushing him behind backwards, sword already in hand even though he'd been on the ground just seconds prior.

“I TOLD YOU!” Keith shouted angrily, before swinging the sword down over the creature's head.

With just the one slice, the monster exploded into nothing more than a pile of yellow dust. Keith sighed, returning the celestial bronze blade to its original form as a lighter. “Will you come back to camp NOW?!” he demanded, breathing heavily.

“Hah...” Lance let out a short laugh, which made Keith spin around and glare daggers at him. But when he saw Lance his face paled, all anger replaced with fear in seconds.

Lance was clutching a hand to his side, where blood dripped from between his fingers. As he moved his hand, Keith felt panic begin to set in.

The bite mark was small, barely bleeding. Just two dots of red, really. The skin around it, however, was starting to turn a sickly shade of green.

Poison.

“You pushed me out of the way because it was going to attack me,” Keith realized. “And... it bit you instead. Why would you... why?”

“It's fine,” Lance said, voice already uneven. “I just didn't.... didn't h-have time to do anything e-else. We'll... we'll be o-okay.” His knees started to shake underneath him.

“Lance,” Keith stumbled forward, blood rushing in his ears. This can't be happening.

“G-Guess you'll... you'll really have to d-d-drag my c-corpse back th... there,” he struggled to get the words out, vision already fading around the edges.

The last thing Lance saw was Keith suddenly rushing forward, and then his eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed.

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alteanz · 7 years ago

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“Beautiful, fierce and interesting” || Takashi (Shiro)gane (vld) x reader

Anon asked: Hi! Could you write something where Shiro meets his (future) female s/o for the first time? Like maybe the team found her on a planet and she went into defense mode and it impressed him and his thoughts? Thank you so much for your time! I really enjoy your stuff!

A/N: Thankfully I was able to rewrite this (My computer shut down right before saving it). Thank you for your request!

“Day 60.” You sighed “My food and water supplies are almost running out. I thought I still had 2 months left but there was a minor… issue.” You recalled the moment you were attacked by an alien who tried to steal your ship, but seeing it was damaged he just stole some of the supplements you kept inside it. “I-I don’t know if I’m making it out of here alive” you said to the recorder on your right hand.

It had been almost 2 months since you had fallen on this cursed planet. It was a small, abandoned place where no one ever went. There were no living things there, the soil was unable to grow any sorts of plants and there wasn’t even water, it was like living on an asteroid. The only time you had contact with other beings was when another alien tried to steal your ship and leave you with his small one. It was old and rusty and looked so fragile you were scared it would crumble as soon as you touched it. “At least it worked.” You thought.

You were making a delivery from your planet, Kuatera, to the closest one, Meoclite, which was 74 years light from yours. It wouldn’t take you more than 3 days to get there but you were hit by an asteroid that badly damaged your ship, making you crash. For your luck, you were delivering food and you still had your 6 day supply so you could still survive for some time. Unfortunately, that stock was almost empty and you could only survive for 1 more week, maybe 2. Your hopes on anyone coming to rescue you died after 2 weeks had gone by. You were stuck on that planet and you were going to die there, alone.

You looked one last time at the starry sky above you before entering the ship. As you were closing the door you saw something strange outside that caught your eye. A large shadow was being projected on the floor and it kept growing bigger so you peeked through your window just in time to see a huge colorful robot with feline like heads on both hands and feet landing on the planet.

5 armored figures came out of it and looked around.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” the one with blue details on his armor asked “There’s nothing here.”

“Well, there’s that ship over there” the green spoke “Maybe we can check it out.”

“Let’s stick to the plan.” The one with the black armor spoke and by his voice tone and the way the others nodded you figured he was the leader. His voice was quite appealing and even though you couldn’t see his face you bet they matched.

They started walking around as if they were looking for something. The shortest one (the green one) was walking around with a device in her hand, like a metal detector, that was constantly beeping. It started beeping faster as she pointed to where you were.

“Guys, this way.” She called and the others followed her “It’s coming from there”

You grabbed your guns and hid next to the entrance, ready to attack. They all stopped in front of the ship.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” the blue one asked positioning himself at the door.

“Lance we don’t know what’s inside” the red one said.

“Oh, relax Keith, there’s nothing to worry ab-WOAH!” as soon as his feet touched the floor of the ship you jumped on him, pinning him to the ground with your foot and one of your guns pointed to his head. The other one was directed to the 4 people standing outside.

“Please, we come in peace” the black one spoke again, raising his hands. “We are the paladins of Voltron.”

“If so, then why are your friends pointing their weapons at me?” You cocked an eyebrow waiting for his response.

“You’re pointing your weapon to our friend” the green one stated.

“You are intruders” you shrugged “It’s completely normal I try to defend myself”

“Intruders? You live here?” the yellow one asked.

“For the past 2 months, yes. My ship crashed here and I can’t fix it.”

“Today is your lucky day, baby. We’ve come to your rescue! But I’m afraid I can’t help you if you keep your foot on my lungs” he said almost out of breath.

“Oh, sorry” you removed your foot and lowered both your guns but kept them close, in case you needed them.

“The name’s Lance” he smiled charmingly at you, or at least he tried.

You laughed at his failed flirting, rolling your eyes slightly “(Y/N)”

“I’m Shiro, the black paladin and leader of Voltron.” He said, removing his helmet. Your eyes widened at how much they looked like Kuaterians.Your guesses your right, he was good looking! That big scar that crossed his nose and the white tuft of hair were quite interesting and attractive and you suddenly wished to know more about them.

Each of the paladins introduced themselves and explained they were looking for a rare substance that apparently existed on that planet and that your ship was standing right on top of it.

“Well, I’d love to help but, as you can see, I can’t pilot this thing, not anymore.” You shook your head.

“That won’t be a problem” Hunk gestured to Voltron.

“The hardest part will be extracting the substance,” Pidge said, analyzing something on her device. “It’s 12 kilometers deep and it’s highly unstable.We might stay here for a while.”

You were annoyed that you still had to wait to leave that damned planet, but if you waited 2 months you could very easily wait some more hours. Removing the ship was easy and quick and Hunk had just started slowly digging the ground when Shiro sat next to you.

“Where are you from, exactly?” you asked.

“Earth” he answered but to you it was quite a vague answer. You looked at him, expecting him to continue. “Milky way?”

“That I’ve heard of” you slightly laughed “It’s quite far from here. What are you doing so far from home?”

Shiro’s eyes seemed to darken for a moment, remembering the real reason they were in space. If it wasn’t for him, Keith would still be in the Garrison and would’ve never found the blue lion. He cleared his throat and told you all there was to know about Voltron, including the past paladins, Allura and Coran.

“I can’t believe I’ve never heard about this before” you said in awe “In my planet we do not believe in anything before we see it, so I’m guessing the legend of Voltron died as soon as it reached my people’s ears.”

“Tell me more,” Shiro asked “About your people, I mean”

You smiled at him and told him the story of your planet. You told him everything about your ancestors and the first beings to step on Kuatera, about your society and basic things like your animals and plants. You soon realized both your planets were very similar and so were the both of you. Shiro stared at you with amusement in his eyes, he was loving to hear you talk with such passion about your planet. He had to admit that he was scared for a moment when he saw you for the first time. Sure, he’d seen lots of aliens who pointed guns at him, but you seemed different, more determined and truly not scared to start a fight with 5 armed strangers with a giant robot made out of mechanic cats. That truly impressed him due to your weaponry and your size – not that you were that small, but you weren’t much taller than Pidge and you sure seemed to be older than her. Another thing he noticed when he saw you was how beautiful you were. Beautiful, fierce and interesting – the perfect combination.

You two lost track of time while talking and laughing. The substance had been removed and carefully placed in a chemical container.

“(Y/N), do you want us to take your ship as well?” Hunk asked “I can try to fix it if you want to.”

“That’d be nice, thank you Hunk.” you smiled and entered Voltron, going to the black lion with Shiro.

“Ready?” he looked at you.

“Please, I’m ready to leave since I first stepped here.” you said, making him chuckle.

Voltron took off and a comfortable silence filled the lion’s cockpit. Minutes later you heard his voice ask.

“So, have you ever met any Alteans?”

P.S- I might do a part 2 of this? Maybe something angsty where their relationship develops but she needs to go back to Kuetara? Or should I do something else?Tell me what you think :)

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chubbywangji · 7 years ago

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afeastforchubs -> chubbyshiro

So, I decided to get a new icon and url since I’ve apparently fallen into Voltron Hell. I decided to have it be Shiro because, to the surprise of no one, he’s my new Precious Baby Favorite™.

The rest of the faves club, vaguely in order (and then alphabetized) are:

Allura, Hunk, Keith

Ezor, Lance, Pidge, Shay, Thace, Zethrid

Axca, Coran, Haggar/Honerva, Kolivan, Lotor, Matt, Narti, Ulaz

Kuro (the largely fan-created grimdark!Shiro), Kuron (maybe a clone!Shiro), Nyma, Plaxum, Rolo, Sven

And there’s a ships list underneath the cut, which I totally just copy-pasted from the ships page I have on my main because that was easier than making a new one. The only one that’s not listed is, “If I ever write fic about Lotor’s generals and an OFC, that OFC is totally a self-insert because I want to live in the reality where I get to date four morally questionable alien babes.”

& = non-romantic/sexual relationships.

ψ = angsty/grimdark only / “i love the thing & completely acknowledge that it is a fucked up train-wreck.”

AGATP’s (definition)

keith (& or /) shiro.

*most* favorite otp’s & otx’s

allura/shay * axca/ezor/narti/zethrid * hunk/keith * hunk/keith/lance * hunk/lance * shiro & owning a dog * thace/ulaz.

favorite otp’s & otx’s

allura, coran & the paladins * allura (& or /) lance * axca/ezor/narti/zethrid + lotor * axca/zethrid * black lion & shiro * ezor/narti * hunk/shay * kuro/shiroψ * kuron/shiro * lotor/shiroψ * matt/shiro * narti/zethrid * shiro/some goddamn rest.

ships i love: tier 1

alfor/coran * allura & coran * allura/hunk/shay * allura & keith * allura (& or /) pidge * allura (& or /) shiro * haggar & lotor * haggar-honerva/zarkon * hunk, lance & pidge * keith & the blade of marmora * keith/lance * keith/lance/shiro * keith/lotor/shiroψ * keith & red * lance & blue * lance/plaxum * lance (& or /) shiro * lotor & zarkon * shiro/ulaz.

ships i love: tier 2

allura/axcaψ * allura & blue * allura & haggarψ * allura/hiraψ * allura (& or /) hunk * allura/zethridψ * axca & lotor * black lion & keith * blaytz/his cute galra husband * coran & hunk * coran & lance * coran & pidge * ezor (& or /) lotor * ezor/zethrid * green lion & pidge * haggar & shiroψ * hunk & pidge * hunk (& or /) shiro * hunk & yellow lion * keith & kolivan * keith/lotorψ * keith/matt/shiro * kolivan/ulaz * keith & thace * kolivan/thace * kolivan/thace/ulaz * lance & pidge * lotor/sendak * lotor/thaceψ * matt & pidge * pidge & shiro * sendak/shiroψ * shiro/thace * shiro/thace/ulaz.

ships i like pretty well

alfor/blaytz * alfor/honerva/zarkonψ * alfor/zarkonψ * allura/ezorψ * allura (& or /) kolivan * allura (& or /) lotorψ * allura/narti * allura/nyma * axca (& or /) keith * antok/kolivan * axca/ezor * haxus/sendak * kolivan/shiro * lance/lotorψ * lance/nyma * lance & red * lance/sven * lotor/throk * luki/pidge * pidge & ryner * plaxum/shay * rolo/shiro.

ships i am casually shipping

allura/florona * allura/luxia * allura/plaxum * akira kogane/shiro [based on the fanon idea that the mirrorverse from 3.04 has a half-altean akira kogane who’s a member of the guns of gamara] * akira/sven * axca & keith * black lion & zarkonψ * coran & keith * coran (& or /) shiro * florona/plaxum * florona/shay * hunk/pidge * hunk/rax * hunk/rolo * keith & pidge * lance/pidge * luxia/plaxum * nyma/rolo * rax/rolo * shiro/sven * slav/sven.

“it’s complicated” ships

allura/keith.

“meh”-tp’s

keith/pidge.

“*HARD* PASS” notp’s

allura/coran * matt/pidge * morvok/any * any parental incest ships * pidge/shiro * prorock/any * shiro/slav * varkon/any * vrepit sal/any * but it’s not a deal-breaker if somebody else ships these things. I don’t like them personally, but if you do, we can still be friends and stuff. I just won’t engage with your stuff about these ships because that’s what you’re supposed to do if you don’t ship a thing.

#blog maintenance #voltron hell #about me #about this blog #in which the owner of this blog is shipper garbage and not even remotely sorry #text posts

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lordofthebigtimesupernatural · 8 years ago

Note

Stalker Anon here!! Dumb Tumblr, I sent a prompt where 16-17 year old Keith gets asked out and says no, and the person starts Stalking him. He wants to tell Shiro but he's also embarrassed and tries to handle it on his own, but then it all comes to a head. Sorry bout the trouble :,D Thank you!

Hello there Stalker Anon! Sorry for the wait as usual. Luckily, tumblr didn’t eat this prompt! Yay! This was hard to write because poor Keith! :( You guys either love some Heavy Angst (which I will proudly deliver 10x over) or Super Fluff (which warms my heart). There is no in between and I love it. No chill. Thanks so much for this prompt nonny and to everyone that sends in asks! I loved it and I hope that you enjoy!

x.V.x

When itcame to dating, Shiro had feared for the worst as soon as Keith had become ateenager. He was well prepared on dealing with a hormonal, angsty teenagerespecially after hearing complaints from other parents. He was prepared to playthe protective father who fought off any and all of Keith’s suitors, thatthreatened to deflower his innocent son.

However,Shiro was pleasantly surprised when Keith didn’t date anyone.

Not at14 or 15, or 16, or even 17.

Keithnever once showed interest. Sure, Shiro had been witness to some (unfortunatelyadorable) crushes that Keith had harbored on people over the years. However,none of Keith’s crushes usually lasted and Keith had turned down more people in three years, thanShiro had in his whole life.

It wasn’tthat Keith wasn’t attracted to anyone; rather he wasn’t interested in dating atthe moment. Shiro could handle that.

Shirocould definitely handle that.

Hedecidedly ignored the small voice in the back of his head that whispered, No Takashi Shirogane you’re going to needto let go one day and let him grow up. No…

Keithcared a lot less than his dad did about hisown dating life. At the moment he wasn’t interested, mainly because no onehad really caught his eye in the way that made his heart flutter or his palmssweaty. A lot of people made Keith’s palms sweaty, actually. That didn’t meanthat Keith was in love with a lot of people. No way.

Recently,Keith had been wondering if rejecting every person was the way to go.Especially after the Carla incident.

Carlawas a sweet girl – emphasis on was –and she was in several of Keith’s classes. She was cute and funny and alwayswore the prettiest dresses in school. However, Keith wasn’t interested in herbesides an occasional conversation with her if they were ever partnered up. Shecertainly wasn’t someone that Keith had considered dating. So it was quite thesurprise when Carla had asked him out one day after Math class.

It wasreally embarrassing for Keith if he was going to admit it. Carla had ambushedKeith while he was still at his desk, leaning over so Keith couldn’t evenescape out of the desk. She’d batted her eyelashes and smiled real big at Keithbefore asking the one question that had been on her mind for months. The onequestion that Keith had never considered.

“Howabout you and I go on a real date? You’re a cute boy and I’m in the mood forsomething delicious.” She said softly and Keith swallowed.

It waseven more embarrassing knowing that allof Carla’s friends were giggling like schoolgirls behind them and watching theentire scene play out. Keith’s heart was racing and his throat felt too dry. Itwas a few, long, agonizing minutes that was full of silence before Keith evenspoke. By then, even Carla’s smile was starting to falter.

“Um, I’msorry Carla. I’m not – I’m not interested.” Keith said instead of saying yes,as Carla had expected. Of course, the girl was stunned and her jaw had droppedto the floor. The other girls had all stopped giggling and Keith took this ashis cue to leave. In Carla’s surprised state, Keith was able to squeeze pasther and dash out of the room without another word. Carla was left stunned andstaring at the now empty desk.

Keith had rejected her?

Meanwhile,Keith had practically sprinted out of the school. Just before he reached thedoors, to where his friends were surely waiting, Keith tried to collecthimself. He took a few deep breaths and nodded to himself before heading outthe doors and towards his friends. It��sfine. You’ve turned down people before. This is no different.

All ittook was some lame joke from Lance and a suffering sigh from Hunk before Keithhad forgotten all about his incident with Carla.

Everything would be fine.

x.V.x

Carlaapparently hadn’t understood what no meant.

Foralmost a week straight she’d cornered Keith several times. Each time, she’dflirted her way to asking Keith out again and again or hinting for Keith to askher out. And again and again, Keith would politely decline and explain that hewasn’t interested. Each time, Carla was frustrated but always left Keith in ahuff.

WheneverKeith thought she’d give up she would come up with some other way to ask himout. Keith figured that she didn’t know what the word no meant. It must be hard.

Onemorning Keith found his locker full of paper hearts and tiny notes all in Carla’shandwriting. Each was about something that was cute about Keith. Your eyes are gorgeous. Your laugh makes meso happy every time I hear it. I love the way you chew on your pen caps.While this was all sweet, Keith was more concerned with the fact that Carla –or someone – had gotten into his locker without his permission. They’d invadedhis privacy.

Anotherday, a box of Keith’s favorite chocolates were sitting on his desk beforeclass. This made Keith’s stomach sink and he threw the chocolates out afterclass when no one was looking. Only Lance, Hunk and Pidge knew what Keith’sfavorite chocolate was and Shiro.

Morethan once, one or more of Carla’s friends would corner Keith in the hallways orclassroom and practically bully him into asking out their friend. All with fakesmiles and taunting expressions they would demand to know why Keith would turnCarla down or why he was so cruel to break her heart. You two would be so cute together! How can you be so selfish? Do youknow how much you’ve hurt her? Each time Keith was saved by the bell or hisfriends and would escape without saying a word.

However,the sick feeling in Keith’s stomach only grew when he found a note in his backpack after school one day.

You look cute when you go for your runs at7.

Keithwondered how on Earth did Carla knew what time Keith took his runs. At home.

“Heyman, you alright?” Keith blinked when Lance spoke up and a brown hand waswaving in front of his face. He frowned at Lance and immediately swatted thehand away, earning a laugh from Hunk and Pidge.

“What?”

“You’vebeen staring at your lunch for like ten minutes now. I know cafeteria food canbe a gamble to eat, but you just gotta hold your breath and eat.” Lanceshrugged, taking a bite of what vaguely looked like pizza.

“Oh,sorry.” Keith murmured and looked back down at his food. Hunk leaned over andgave him a gentle pat on the back. Keith felt the tension start to drain fromhim.

“It’sokay. You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Hunk smiled softly andKeith snorted. He ignored Pidge and Lance who had begun their own thumb war. “Anythingyou wanna talk about?”

For abrief moment, Keith hesitated. These were his friends. His friends of over 13years, who he trusted with his life. Youcan tell them. They’re here to help you. Keith briefly thought abouttelling them about the note from Carla. It was bothering him more than hewanted to admit and Keith didn’t want his friends to get involved in somethingthat could be petty or pointless to some.What if I’m just making a big deal out of this? Keith chewed on his lip. Hedidn’t want to be a burden to his friends.

“It’sCarla.” Keith finally admitted.

Thiscaught Lance’s attention who lost the thumb war due to his loss of focus. “Wait,she still bothering you? Dude you need to tell her to fuck off.”

“Lance!”Hunk scolded, rushing to put his arms over Pidge’s ears. “There are childrenpresent.”

“Oh,fuck you.” Pidge rolled their eyes playfully and Hunk gasped, while Keithchuckled. However, Lance looked directly at Keith with a frown.

“Seriously,you’ve turned her down, how many times? Like at least a hundred.” Lance criedand Hunk nodded quickly.

“Probablytwo hundred.” Hunk added.

“Yeah!The point is you’re not interested. She needs to let go. What’s she doing now?”Lance rolled his eyes and Keith hesitated with a lump in his throat. Should I tell them about the note? Or is itreally not a big deal and you’re just being annoying to your friends.

“Um, shejust keeps asking me after class.” Keith lied and bit his lip. Lance sigheddramatically and shook his head, accepting the lie.

“Man,she needs to drop it. That’s just annoying and rude.” Lance said, causing Keithto smile. “You need any of us to go after her?” Keith was touched that Lancewas offering, but he would never admit that out loud.

“As if.I can take care of this pretty boy.” Keith snorted and Lance huffed playfully. “Don’tworry, I’ll try to talk to her today.”Hopefully she’ll stop everything.

x.V.x

You look adorable when you’re asleep.

Thistime it was a text message from an unknown number. With a picture attached.

Keithalmost threw up when he opened the blurry picture of his bedroom window, withKeith asleep in his bed. The photowas obviously taken from outside, probably across the street and zoomed in.Without even wondering, Keith knew who the unknown number was from. It didn’ttake a lot to put two and two together.

“Heybud, are you feeling alright? You’re looking a little pale.” Keith shut themessage close as fast as he could when Shiro walked into the room. He shovedthe phone under his pillow, looking up just in time to see his dad walkingtowards him. The whole time Keith’s heart was racing and his mind was runningat a million miles per hour. He couldn’t believe that Carla had gotten hisnumber. Who gave it to her? Hunk or Pidgewouldn’t give her my number. Even Lance knew how important this was to me.

“Um,yeah.” Keith lied through his teeth, causing Shiro to frown. Shiro put up hisflesh hand to Keith’s forehead and Keith resisted the urge to flinch away. He couldn’tworry Shiro, not after everything that Shiro had done for him.

Keithcould handle this.

“Youfeel warm. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Shiro asked and Keith almostbroke at the look of concern in his dad’s eyes. His dad was always there forhim no matter how little the problem was Keith couldn’t keep burdening his dadwith his problems.

Keithcould handle this on his own.

“Um,actually, my stomach’s hurting.” Keith said slowly. Shiro’s frown deepened butthis time he brushed back Keith’s hair to stroke his forehead. Keith felt hisdad begin to push him back down into the bed and under the covers and Keithfelt awful. He knew he was running away from his problems. He wasn’t facingthem, like how his dad would have in this situation. Keith was a coward.

Keithcouldn’t handle this.

“Youshould stay home then. You look awful. How about you get some sleep and I’llmake you some light lunch?” Shiro said gently, causing Keith’s guilt to festereven more. He nodded slowly, unable to speak and his dad smiled softly. Hegently pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead before leaving Keith alone in hisbed. His phone vibrated with another message.

I can’t wait to see you, cutie-pie!

x.V.x

Keithhad gotten seventy-five text messagesin three days. Thirty of them were from the day that Keith had skipped schoolwhen he was “sick” and hadn’t showed up. The rest were constant messages fromCarla throughout the day. Some were just streams of messages while others camewith pictures Mainly of Keith when Keith wasn’t aware that his picture had beentaken.

Keithwas on edge because of this all.

He’dsnapped at his friends and shut himself in his room from his dad. Everyone wasaware of the sudden change in Keith’s mood and behavior but nothing could getKeith to admit what was happening.

Keith, where are you? You weren’t in yourgym class today!

Carla wasn’t in his gym class.

Keithy-baby I brought your favorite!Sukiyaki! :)

Shirowas the only one who made Sukiyaki for Keith.

Homey, why aren’t you answering my texts!You know who this is.

I love you!

Keithy?

Keith baby?

Boo, you’re no phone when you don’tanswer my texts.

But you’re a cutie pie when youvisit your dad’s work.

Thephotos made Keith sick and he couldn’t even bring himself to open anymore evenas his phone continued to notify him of a new message. Which was the reason forwhy Keith was curled up in the furthest stall of the bathroom, on the floor, hyperventilatingand sobbing.

Keithwas scared.

He wasso scared and so stupid. He couldn’thandle this on his own. Why on Earth did he ever even think that he couldhandle this on his own. Keith had never felt so foolish in his life and now hewas suffering for his mistakes. He couldn’t even begin to berate himself forhow stupid that he had been. His friends could have helped somehow, his dad could have helped.

Keith’sphone vibrated once more and another sob built up in his chest. He knew that heshould just keep ignoring it and that it wasn’t worth looking at but somethingwas telling Keith to look. There was something pulling at him to look at thisone message. So Keith did just that.

Your dad’s pretty cute. Maybe he won’tignore me like you :(

Keith’sheart stopped at seeing the photo of his dad, in their front yard, gardening.

BeforeKeith’s mind could catch up, his fingers were already dialing a number that heknew by heart and the phone was ringing.Pick up. Pick up. Keith squeezed his eyes shut feeling more tears fall downhis cheeks.

“Hello?Keith?”

Keithsobbed again at hearing his dad’s voice.

“Keith?!Keith, what’s wrong?” Shiro panicked into the phone and Keith’s entire bodyalmost melted to the floor. You’re notalone. Tell him.

“Dad, dad. She’s watching youtoo! She’s watching you.” Keith sobbed, breath coming out in short spurts.

“Watchingme? Keith, who are you talking about?” Shiro asked.

“Her!Carla!” Keith cried as if it was making total sense.

“Honey,you need to calm down. Please, I can hear your breaths from here. I need you totake big, deep breaths. In and out.” Shiro said softly. Keith could hearshuffling on the other side of the line, but he was more focused on trying tocatch his breath. “Can you do that for me. Deep breaths in. And out. There yougo, just like that. Once more.”

Keithmanaged to mimic his father’s breathing though the tears still fell.

“That’sit. Very good. Keep breathing, just like that. I’m on my way. Where are you?”Shiro asked and there was more shuffling on his side of the line. Keith hiccupped.

“B-Bath-Bathroom.S-School-school.” Keith managed.

“Verygood. Okay, okay. Keep taking deep breaths for me. There you go. Stay on theline, alright? Deep breaths now.”

x.V.x

“We…wedidn’t realize it was this bad.” Lance mumbled, sick to his stomach afterhearing from Keith and Shiro what had been going on with Carla. He felt likethe worst friend in the history of the universe knowing that Keith had been soupset lately and none of them had helped him. “Carla, she never looked so off.”

“None ofus knew.” Shiro admitted. Keith’s phone was clutched tightly in Shiro’s handand the only reason that Shiro hadn’t smashed it out of fury, was because thiswas the evidence that police needed against this Carla girl. The girl who had been stalking Keith.

StalkingShiro’s baby.

Shirowanted to throw up at knowing that his son had been hurting so much and was soalone in this nightmare. Why had this happenedto Keith? What had Keith done to deserve this?

“Thisisn’t fair.” Hunk whispered, looking over at their sleeping and exhausted friend.

“No. It’snot.” Shiro admitted. “However, there’s nothing that we can do to prevent thepast. He’s come to us now and all we can do is do everything we can to helpKeith from this point on. But unfortunately, this is a lesson for everyone. Ifthis every happens – and I pray to god itnever does for any of you - you tellan adult immediately. Your parents. A teacher. Even me if you’re comfortablewith that. These things are serious and this is in no way Keith’s fault but some people are sick.”

Everyonewas silent for a few minutes longer before Pidge spoke up. They were cuddled upagainst Keith’s side, not having moved once since they’d found Keith and huggedhim. “We just have to be there for him forever. Every step of the way afterthis.”

Shironodded, eyes bright with fierce determination. “Yes. This girl messed with thewrong family.”

Keith would never suffer aloneagain.

14 notes · View notes

fire-bear · 7 years ago

Note

A, E-G, I-K, N, P-Z? sooo basically most of them :'D

Why do you do this to me? ;A; I never read any of the questions before I post, urgh.

Right.

A. If you could rec a piece of music to accompany one of your fics, what would you pick? Why?

Uh. Well I know that Dance For Me has a song. I had the idea and the title and began writing before I needed a song and went looking. This is what I found:

youtube

E. Who’s your favorite main character you’ve written?

Arthur. Or APH England. He’s the easiest for me to write for some reason.

But I like my OC from my novel, Benrial. He’s pretty easy to write because, after thinking about it, he’s a more confident, more fun and just better version of me.

F. What stories are you planning for the future?

Well. I’m in the middle of writing my Christmas one-shots. I’ve counted and there’s 15. (I’m supposed to start posting them on Wednesday cause it’s twelve days till Christmas then - unless I counted wrong which is highly likely. Urgh, numbers.)

Then I’m gonna do this thing cause I wanna write more Voltron stuff but I have too many things started and not enough time, dammit!

After that, it’s Hunk’s birthday and I’m gonna do one-shot birthday things for all the paladins! ... Even if Shiro technically has no birthday... They’ll all be different birthdays from different universes. For instance, Hunk’s will be from a soulmate AU. Actually, I’ll just tell you all of them’s since I’m excited: Shiro’s will be canonverse because canon Shiro needs a break. Pidge’s will be a chat AU and... I’m not sure how I’ll do in that cause I’ve not done one like that before that I can recall... Lance’s birthday is in a fantasy AU where it’s his destiny (along with Hunk and Pidge and Keith) to save the kingdom but there’s a misunderstanding and angsty hurt and the Galra catch him and, well. Keith gets his birthday in a zombie apocalypse because he had to go and be born in the month of Halloween. (I would’ve written it this year but, urgh, time. There is not enough of it.)

They’ll be written between the continuation of the Sticky series because I have a lot of ideas for that AU so. I should point out that I mean a continuation from the second chapter of Glue and not the first one.

And in between this, I need to finish of the chapter I started of Shadow House 2, try writing more of my novel and I really wanna write more of Lance’s Fury.

So, uh, does anyone want to pay me to write instead of going to work so I have time for all this?

G. Where do you think you grew the most this year?

Probably my belly.

Nah, kidding.

I think I’m... pretty much the same? I think I might be getting better at mimicking other’s styles, like I apparently did with Thames’ Child. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Then again, I did write over 50,000 words of my novel and I never finished it so I reckon I did better than my first attempt which... eh. *shrugs*

I. What’s your favorite work you did this year? Why?

Hm.

*goes to AO3*

Hm. I quite liked Neighbour. And Glue. Which, uh, says a lot about me... Or says that I’m kinda dissatisfied with all the half-finished stories I apparently have lurking around. *sighs*

J. What are the best jokes you told this year? Any jokes you thought were funny that people didn’t catch? Vice-versa?

Uh... Hm. Heh, the one I can actually remember is the jokes they tell in the second version of Glue where it’s ‘not as if a vampire will lure me away’ or something to that affect.

Also! Any of the jokes in Thames’ Child because I managed to evoke the source material for the crossover quite well, I think. :3

K. Who have you killed this year? Why did they have to die?

... I think it best I not say... ;P

But, lemme see...

Wait, I can’t say without spoiling things! But, well, I killed Arthur and Gilbert at points because of the universe and the idea.

But, in Shadow House, wow. So many die. It’s meant to be a horror story - kinda like a horror movie where people are dying in horrible ways

N. Anything you were planning to write that never got written?

I have a document solely with Hetalia fanfic ideas which is 84 pages long. To be fair, some of them have been written but I’ve kept them in the document because I had vague ideas of what could happen next (these are usually one-shots).

I also have a separate document for every other fandom idea and that’s 14 pages long, including notes for one I’ve started. Or for one-shots I wanted to continue and haven’t gotten around to it.

P. What are your pet peeves in other people’s work?

When they don’t make it clear who’s talking.

By that, I mean, they have the person speaking named in the next paragraph for some reason. Or they close their speech but all they needed to do was take a new paragraph.

I get confused easily - don’t do that to me. :(

Q. Quote three bits of writing you read his year. Can be your writing, or not.

I’ll just use my own...

From Fortune:

"Then Arthur came to this action on his own," Alfred declared. "And he will be punished, in a way. But there is something else to note. Arthur, your toga..."

"What about it?" Arthur asked distractedly as his heart sank. He was more focussed on his previous comment. There were only two ways to punish a god: strip them of their powers and lock them away for a millennia or to kill them outright and replace them with another. Arthur would not mind dying but the idea of being unable to see Gil fulfilling his life while he was locked away would be a torture he didn't want to endure.

"Have you not noticed?" Alfred asked, a smile beginning to grow. "Look."

Without thinking, Arthur obeyed, looking down. His eyes widened when he realised what he was looking at: his toga was now white. And, now that he thought about it, he had once worn black, had he not? He stared down at himself, confused.

From Lance’s Fury:

Just as they reached the adjoining corridors, there was movement and Lance jerked away as something came towards him. Whatever it was, it was fast and probably deadly. He grasped for something to defend himself with but he didn't carry a knife and there wasn't a vast source of water around. Before he could even think of taking the water from the air around them, another movement cut in front of him and two blades clashed just a hand's breadth from his heart.

Blinking once, his eyes focussed and he found Keith wielding a knife against Pidge's dagger. Keith and Pidge struggled for a moment before they broke away. Lance staggered back, still in shock, his heart hammering in his chest. He had almost been killed... By Keith.

"Keith-" Pidge began but the other academ had focussed his attention on what he seemingly deemed the greater threat and launched himself at her, his windcrafting ruffling her hair as he used his increased speed to fight her. Thankfully, Pidge was using her metalcrafting and was just as fast, keeping up with every swing.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Hunk was mumbling beside Lance. "What do we do?"

From Glue:

Unable to think of an intellectual response to that, Arthur merely said, "You're ridiculous."

"And you're actually smiling – it's pretty."

Arthur sucked in a breath, startled by the comment. His heart did an odd thing where it fluttered and clenched and seemed to swell all at once. It was way too soon for him to entertain thoughts for anyone but Kiku, in his opinion – even if he had been dumped. And Kiku clearly had no intentions of returning to him. So he was on his own and free to do as he liked. Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, Arthur turned to Alfred and held out his hand.

"I've not actually introduced myself. I'm Arthur Ki-"

He was interrupted with a loud laugh. "Dude, you totally don't need to be so formal. But, Arthur, huh? It's a cool name. Suits you."

Again, Arthur couldn't stop his lips from twitching up into a smile. "Your foam moustache suits you, too."

R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch, which one would it be? What would you do to it?

This lot. I’d make it more realistic. Like, do actual research into the porn industry? Or just make their reactions and stuff more... I dunno. I mean, it’s okay just now but I’m just gonna continue it rather than go over it.

Also, all my earlier stories on ff.net - I would scrub all the attempts at accents. Urgh. (Though, some of the stories, the accents are supposed to be exaggerated versions which would disguise them. Or something.)

S. What’s the sexiest thing you wrote this year?

....

Well: Neighbour, Glue, Thames’ Child, To An Ell Broad, Dance For Me.

T. Themes, motherfucker, do you have them? What are they?

... I don’t really get this question. Themes for what? In general? Because, if so, not really...?

Oh, wait. I think I understand it now... But I can’t think of what my stories have for themes...

U. Any stories that took a abrupt u-turn from where you thought they were going?

When I started The Keeper, I thought it was gonna be simple. It’s... not any more. Also needs to be updated. ^^”

V. Which story was the most viscerally pleasing to write? Tell us your narrative kinks.

... I honestly liked writing them all? I like the ideas finally being put down. Then they leave my head, poof! And people leave kudos and I’m like, “Wait, what was that one again?”

I can’t think of any... kinks...

W. Who are your favorite writers?

Hm, well, @zeplerfer, obviously. And... there are others but I’m just too lazy by this point to go looking for links to the ones on AO3.

X. What’s your least favorite work of this year?

Actually, one I’ve not posted yet. The first Christmas one I finished. The prompt limits you to ‘enemies in the same company�� and my mind just went ‘nope’ so what I got down was horrible. I feel bad cause it’s for an anon...

Y. Why did you write? For fun, for a friend, for acclaim?

For fun.

Also, always wanted to be an author, even if I took a course in something completely different!

And I think I’d go insane if I didn’t, to be honest.

Z. If you could choose one work and immediately finish it, what would it be? How would you end it?

Hm. This is difficult. I want all of them to be finished so everyone can find out what happens in them!

... But I’ve been thinking about A Harmless Archfiend and it would end in death and sacrifice and love.

Flipping finally! I thought I’d be at this all night! O.o I hope these answers are good enough?

0 notes

lordofthebigtimesupernatural · 8 years ago

Note

How would kid Keith or dad Shiro react if Lance let it slip that he was feeling kinda useless?

Hello there nonny! Aw, this tugged at the heartstrings especially after season 2. Poor, insecure Lance makes anything angsty. But no worries, Dad Shiro and little Keith to the rescue! Sorry this took a bit longer than the others, but I hope you still enjoy it because it was so much fun to write! I love these two buddies and this family! Enjoy and thanks so much for sending in these asks guys, I love them!

x.V.x

Lance didn’t often consider him to be a third wheel. Or a fifth, or even a seventh wheel. But that was only if you were counting Allura and Coran, but he decided that since they were just school teachers, he didn’t need to count them at the moment in their little group.

However, that was before Pidge won the science fair, at only eight-years-old. Before Hunk got an award for best gourmet meal in the third grade. Before Keith got the Golden chair in music class for his Japanese folk song he performed in front of the talent show audience. Lance didn’t need awards or trophies or Golden chairs to know that he was a good boy. Why his mother and father told him that every single day before school.

Though, they told all of his older siblings the same exact thing too.

No, no. Lance did not need all these fancy awards to know that he was validated and needed. At least, he thought he didn’t need any of it, but now…now he wasn’t too sure. Ever since Keith had gotten his Golden chair, Lance had begun to realize that he was the only one in his group who hadn’t really accomplished anything yet.

Pidge was on their way to being some major corporate, big scientist. Hunk was going to open his own restaurant that would be even better than his mom and dad’s, and Keith was already turning out to be an award winning soldier just like his dad. And don’t even get Lance started on Shiro. The man had more medals, awards, diplomas and gold trophies that Lance was sure to be able to count. He would know. He’d snuck into - er, peeked, into an old room in the Shiroganes basement and had seen all of Shiro’s accomplishments in boxes.

Lance was already eight-years-old and what had he accomplished so far?

A stead C in Math, a passion for action movies and the ability to recount the alphabet backwards. Otherwise, he’d done nothing! Nothing! Lance was already eight and if time kept going as fast as it was at this rate, then Lance was sure he was going to be left behind by his successful and big shot “Friends.”

Lance didn’t want to be left behind.

He didn’t want to be useless.

Not right now. He wanted to feel like he was a part of the group and not slowly falling back behind everyone, as if watching them from the back as they advanced on without him. He tried thinking about what he could do in order to become an elite, non-useless member of his friends group, but so far he’d run dry with ideas.

He thought about trying to join a boxing club because he was good at fighting, but then he remembered that Keith mentioned having to want to try boxing. There was no way Lance was going to try to outdo the mullet.

Then he thought about doing the astronomy club, but he remembered that Pidge would join if he did and there was no way that Lance would be smarter than Pidge. Next he thought about joining a dance club but Hunk was already in a Hawaiian dance team and he was awesome at it. So far, Lance’s list had more cross out lines that not, and he’d even tried to just point down redeeming qualities that he had which no one else had.

Is Friendly Hunk is friendly to EVERYONE

Winning smile Apparently Shiro can never take a bad picture

Good at sports So is Keith apparently, and he doesn’t even like sports

Good with animals Okay, so Red bit me once BUT it wasn’t my fault

Not a loser

Lance sighed heavily, clutching the list in his hands before dragging his pencil to strikethrough the last though. If he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t make him a useless friend then what else was there for him?

“Lance! Are you coming over today?” Lance almost jumped out of his skin when Keith finally walked up to him after class. Hastily, he shoved the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket and looked up to see Keith walking his way. Keith frowned when he noticed Lance trying to quickly shove something in his pocket but decided to keep quiet. His friend had been off for the past few days, and Keith was hoping that it would pass soon and that Lance would be back to his annoying, stupid self.

It was worrisome.

“Uh, oh yeah.” Lance sighed internally. He’d actually forgotten that last week he’d made plans with Keith to stay at his house with Shiro, until his parents got off work. A week ago the eight-year-old couldn’t wait to spend the whole day with his best friend Keith and Keith’s dad, however, he was feeling down on his luck and the array of awards in the Shirogane house did nothing to make Lance feel any better.

“Yeah. You okay?” Keith eyed his friend critically, watching him from head to toe. Lance squirmed under the scrutinized gaze and quickly averted his eyes by ducking his head.

“Yeah! I’m great!” In the next second, Lance shot Keith a bright, wide, fake smile. One that Keith easily could see through, but he decided to drop it. Keith knew not to push anyone into talking, because more often than not he clammed up when he was upset. However, that didn’t stop Keith from wishing that he could somehow help his friend.

“Alright. If you say so.” Keith said quietly before hiking his backpack up onto his back. Lance followed suit, still smiling even when Keith looked away when Shiro pulled up with Red in the car. Lance’s smile only dropped when Shiro exited the car and Red excitedly bounded up to Keith in order to happily lick all over his face. Lance slowly made his way over to Keith, noting how Red didn’t even spare him a second glance.

What do I care? It’s not even my dog anyway. It’s Keith’s so obviously it’s stupid.

“Hi there Lance.” Lance was startled out of his thoughts but Shiro’s gentle voice. Suddenly Shiro was right beside Lance, while Keith continued to pet Red several times in a row. Lance swallowed, quickly forcing himself to smile brightly.

“Hi Shiro dad!” Lance waved, causing Shiro to chuckle.

“Are you excited to get to play with Keith this afternoon?” Shiro asked as he took both Lance and Keith’s backpack to store in the trunk of the car. Lance and Keith waited patiently at the side of the car with Red while Shiro put the bags away.

“Yeah! I’ve been super excited for this, since last week!” Lance said quickly and Shiro frowned for a second when he noticed how tight Lance’s smile seemed to be. As if he was forcing it. Which was highly unusual for the bubbly, energetic boy.

“That’s good to hear. How are you Lance?” Shiro quickly tried to change the topics subtly, when he noticed the tense ridges in Lance’s shoulders as Lance and Keith got into the back of the car. For a second, and only Shiro could see this, Lance’s smile faltered until it was replaced with another fake smile.

“I’m awesome! Thanks for asking, Shiro dad!” Lance said, buckling himself up despite the sick feeling bubbling in his stomach. In the back of the car, Shiro noticed one of their old T-ball medals sticking out of a pocket. The one where Keith was voted MVP.

You couldn’t even get that.

“Are you sure? There’s nothing bothering you?” Shiro tried once more, looking in the rearview mirror. He was saddened to see that Lance continued to smile as if nothing was wrong.

“I’m great! Don’t worry about me!”

However, Lance quickly turned away to look out the window of the car and he missed the look that Dad and son shared with one another. Both knew something was wrong and they were determined to help him.

No matter what.

x.V.x

“Alright, what’s wrong with you?” Keith finally demanded a couple of hours later. He had kicked down Lance’s pitiful attempt at a sandcastle (he wasn’t even trying so Keith didn’t feel all that bad) and towered over Keith with his arms folded over his chest.

“Hey! You jerk, why did you do that?!” Lance shouted. He wasn’t really upset that Keith had knocked over his sandcastle, but with everything that was building up inside him was beginning to wear him out. He was feeling emotionally exhausted right now, more than anything and he just wanted to go home.

“You’re acting stupid. I wanna know why.” Keith didn’t move from his spot with his arms folded over his chest. Lance wasn’t an intimidator to him; he never was and he was more than a little worried about his friend right now. Lance was acting way too sad to be normal and Keith did not like it one bit. He wanted his best friend who was always silly, always smiling and making everyone feel better with his (lame) jokes.

“I’m not stupid! You are!” Lance shot to his feet, kicking sand in Keith’s direction, knowing full well that the other kid hated sand. Keith stood firm despite the attack.

“No, you are! You’re all moping and being stupid and stuff! Knock it off, what’s the matter with you?!” Keith cried out, jumping back this time when Lance tried to kick sand at him again.

“No! I’m not stupid and you need to stop being a jerk! There’s nothing wrong with me!” Lance hissed angrily, voice rising steadily.

“Liar!”

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“AM NOT!”

“Boys!”

Lance and Keith both jerked back when hands grabbed at the backs of their shirts. With ease, they were both lifted into the air and forced to look back at Shiro, who was staring at them in disappointment. Immediately Lance and Keith slunk back, already knowing full well that one was to not aggravated the already disappointed dad, and their lower lips wobbled. Shiro brought them both inside before setting them each down in their own chair facing Shiro, then he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, now, do either of you boys calmly want to tell me what that was all about?” Shiro asked. Both boys remained silent, pointedly refusing to look at each other. One of Shiro’s eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you two best friends? Best friends don’t yell at each other and kick sand at them.”

“Lance started it!” Keith cried out, to which Lance gasped. He opened his mouth to protest but was silence by a look from Shiro.

“Keith, we do not point blame at our friends like that.” Shiro scolded and Keith’s shoulders slumped.

“But it’s true!” Shiro could see Keith’s lower lip wobbling dangerously and his eyes were shinier than usual. He knew he was close to a freak out from Keith, but he couldn’t let Keith just get away with his behavior. It wasn’t fair to Lance.

“Keith.”

“Lance has been sad all day and it’s making me sad!” Keith finally exploded as a few tears dripped down his cheeks. Lance was startled into silence, watching his friend sniffling sadly, while Shiro remained calm and firm in not picking sides. Although, Shiro was a bit shocked to see how well Keith had picked up on Lance’s emotions.

“That might be, Keith, but that doesn’t mean you get to kick his sandcastle and call him stupid.” Shiro reprimanded softly. Keith sniffled again, finally defeated by his father’s disappointment and Lance felt his guilt rise tenfold. You even manage to tear apart a family. Keith sniffled a few more times before nodding.

“I’m sorry Lance.” Keith apologized immediately before Shiro bent down to give him a hug and give him a tissue. Keith latched on quickly and Lance saw a small smile on Shiro’s lips.

“There, now that’s not so bad. I’m know you and I are both worried because we know Lance’s is sad. But a friendship doesn’t work if you force someone to talk to you. You have to ask.” Keith nodded sadly in Shiro’s arms and Lance could begin to feel tears making their way down his own cheeks. As Shiro looked over at him in alarm, he began to try to speak to the boy.

“Lance, what’s -”

“It’s because of that!” Lance finally shouted loudly before pointing at the Golden chair award in the living room. Lance dissolved in hiccuping tears and Shiro blinked, torn between looking at Lance and the award. It seemed Keith was just as confused.

“You’re sad because of that award?”

“No!” Lance shouted stubbornly. “Yes. I mean, not the award itself but because you have it!” Shiro thought that he was starting to get a picture of what was wrong with Lance. Gently, he reached out to scoop Lance into his other arm and he sat down on the chair with both boys in his lap. Keith messily tried to wipe Lance’s face.

“Did you wish you won the award?” Keith asked quietly and Lance’s sobs grew louder.

“No!” He cried. “It’s yours and you won it but I didn’t get anything! I never get anything! Because I’m just a loser!” By now, Shiro was figuring out completely on what was bothering Lance and it made his heart ache that Lance was feeling so hurt and sad at his age. “Pidge is smart! Hunk’s kind and a great cook! You’re awesome and get lots of awards just like Shiro and I’m a nobody who will never do anything in my life!” Lance blubbered before burying his face into Shiro’s jacket. Shiro ignored the tears and snot that littered his jacket as he tried to soothe the boy.

“Do you want to have my trophies?” Keith asked hesitantly.

“No! I just wanna be important!”

“But you are important!” Keith argued hotly, glaring at his sniffling friend. Lance blinked through blurred vision and tried to glare at Keith but failed miserably and Shiro shushed him. “You’re very important to me, and to Hunk especially and Pidge. And Ms. Allura loves you and Coran and you’re important to daddy too, right daddy?” Shiro blinked before nodding quickly.

“Of course. Lance, you’re a very important boy in our lives, all of our lives.” Shiro said softly, wiping away the tears that racked down his cheeks.

“You’re really nice and always making sure that everyone feels good or asking them if there’s anything you can do to make them feel better. You make the most ridiculous faces that always make us laugh and tell the stupidest jokes, even if they are kinda funny.” Lance felt a small flutter in his chest when Keith spoke, looking directly at him. He hiccuped a few times but remained quiet.

“You always make sure nobody picks on Pidge, Hunk or Keith and you always have a smile on your face.” Shiro added softly, much to Lance’s surprise. “You always help me put away the bags when you come over and you say thank you at dinner and snacks. You’re one of the most polite boys ever and you were our best short-stop on T-ball.”

“Yeah and your drawings are usually pretty good and you are awesome at Gymnastics - which none of us can do by the way.” Keith continued excitedly. “Just the other day you did this amazing flip on the bars that I wish I could do.”

“It was pretty cool wasn’t it.” Lance smiled hesitantly and Shiro and Keith laughed.

“Yeah buddy it was. You’re a pretty amazing kid and I hope you know that.” Shiro smiled gently and Lance’s heart fluttered. He shyly looked away only for Keith to grab his hand. “I know it hurts when everyone else around you gets awards, or trophies or medals and seems like they’re succeeding when you’re not, but there’s much more to success than gold Lance, and many people fail to have that their whole lives.”

“Really?” Lance’s eyes widened dramatically causing Shiro to chuckle.

“Really. You have more love and greatness in you than men I’ve known for decades. You are going to succeed far in life Lance, you just have to be patient.”

“Yeah.” Keith cut in before the conversation got too mushy. “Besides, sad Lance is annoying. I much prefer happy Lance because he’s pretty cool.” Keith blushed at the little speech and Lance blinked, feeling touched at his friend’s words. He hadn’t expected Keith, nor Shiro to say what they had but he was happier than ever that they had. They made him feel warmer than he had in a while and gave him new hope that he would succeed.

“Thanks guys.” Lance blushed and couldn’t help but beam at their words.

Later that week after Lance had earned first place in his gymnastic tournament, with Keith, Shiro, Hunk, Pidge and his entire family in the stands, Lance noticed a note folded up in his bag. Opening the note, he couldn’t stop the blinding smile that stretched over his lips, lucky to call these people his home.

Is Friendly Hunk is friendly to EVERYONE (IT’S IN HIS NATURE TO BE KIND)

Winning smile Apparently Shiro can never take a bad picture (THIS IS TRUE)

Good at sports So is Keith apparently, and he doesn’t even like sports

Good with animals Okay, so Red bit me once BUT it wasn’t my fault

Not a loser NOT A LOSER, EXCEPT MAYBE AT MARIO KARTS.

AN AWESOME FRIEND

WINNER OF THE PERFECT SMILE AWARD

HAS THE BIGGEST EGO OUT OF ANYONE I KNOW

SUPER COOL WITH GYMNASTIC

KIND

LOVING

THE BEST FRIEND, SON AND BROTHER WE COULD EVER WISH FOR. WE LOVE YOU LANCE.

#single dad shiro AU #single dad shiro #kiddie!AU #kiddie paladins #voltron legendary defender #thanks nonny #angst and fluff rolled into one #poor baby Lance #needs all the hugs in the world #Keith that is not how you comfort someone #do not kick down their sandcastle #and Lance stop kicking sand at people #this was so good #i miss this AU

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