#i am very lucky though that there are a lot of books written in french

[rmd-writes]

a love note (and some fics)

Sometimes I wonder if there's really anything bigger out there - the universe, some kind of higher power, fate - and then I think about how extremely lucky I am that I became obsessed with a certain tv show and its characters at just the right time so that I could befriend someone who then introduced me to a particular book at exactly the right time to fall in love with those characters as well. And then, because of my need to have more of those characters, I went looking for more stories about them at exactly the right time to meet a group of people (some of them together, some of them later, but that doesn't matter) who would go on to become my friends.

There must be something, right? To bring together a group of people who live in five to seven different time zones depending on the time of year. To create my safest spaces on the internet. To share not just our love for a book and its characters, but parts of our lives with each other. To have them all wedge themselves into the soft spaces of my heart and never leave.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the last two weeks, because those people conspired and collaborated to gift me a collection of 10 incredible fics for a milestone birthday (tomorrow!) - even though some of them haven't written fic for months and months, or don't write for this fandom at all anymore, or have recently been finding it hard to make words work and finish fics, or are just plain busy with other projects and life. That they took the time to find and make words for me means everything and more 💖💖

I've been absolutely overwhelmed with love these past 10 days (probably to the surprise of no one, I have cried at every single fic drop and I'm crying writing this now). So, I want to share the wonderful fics that they've written for me with you all because it's the least I can do to pay it forward and they're objectively stellar fics. If you haven't come across them already then you should definitely add them to your to read lists/open tabs/MFL. Please show my friends some love and read their work.

The Rae of Sunshine! collection, in order of publication (with my very short summaries):

Take It Back (4.2K) by @three-drink-amy

Henry is the head chef at a French restaurant and there's one patron who keeps sending his dishes back. How can they resolve this?

Dick, Dick Dick (You Down) (10.2K) by @everwitch-magiks

Alex runs the craft services trailer on the set of actor!Henry's latest movie. Is he the only person who sees behind the façade?

A deceptively soft story, given the title.

Precious Love (1.3K) by floatingaway4

The fluffiest follow up to one of my favourite AUs Amigos y Migas (aka the food truck au).

Midnight ice cream (5.8K) by @the-amber-fox

Emotional support Cornettos? More likely than you think.

Make it Right (5.3K) by @three-drink-amy (that's right, Ally wrote me TWO FICS)

A rogue little Tarlos fic in amongst the firstprince - a post-season 1 canon divergence that sees TK working in a taco truck while he finds his feet.

a taste of life (7.4K) by @indomitable-love

A journey through Henry's life, told through food. (This one is not my summary, indomitablelove already summed it up perfectly)

Risotto + Melanzane + Dolce (a love story) (16.8K) by @villiageidiot

Alex starts working at an Italian restaurant and is terrible at his job. Somehow, Henry doesn't seem to mind.

Cursed is a State of Mind (WIP) by @welcometololaland & @dustratcentral

A 5 + 1 treatise on cursed coffee consumption.

12 Year Starter (6.6K) by @clottedcreamfudge

When Pez can't make it to Henry's Michelin-star birthday dinner, he arranges for Henry's friend, Alex, to take his place. Featuring CCF's signature banter and fun, and a menu that I wish was real.

Pour Your He(art) Out (WIP) by @athousandrooms

A 5+1 ode to latte art (featuring actual art!)

You can find the entire collection here on Ao3.

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

[sollannaart]

Hello, I've scrolled through your blog to make sure, this question wasn't asked before, but it would seem that it wasn't (though I could've missed it). Can I please ask you of prince Poniatowski's attitude towards Napoleon?

No, this question has not been asked yet, and thank you very much for sending it! It will be my please to write a answer to this.

Relationship between prince Józef Poniatowski and the emperor Napoleon Bonapart

I am sorry, this turned out to be a very long read, and on the topic a little bit wider than asked, so I had to specify the title and give the short answer for those who aren’t interested in details.

So in brief - Poniatowski respected Napoleon, but wasn’t a blind worshipper of the emperor. And in situations when in the balance there might have been Napoleon and Poland, and only one thing was to be chosen for prince Józef this one definitely would be his motherland.

Bronisław Gembarzewski, prince Józef and Napoleon

Emperor Napoleon, as all fans of the epoch knows, first arrived to Warsaw in December of 1806. But to start the long-read about relationship between the emperor and the prince properly we need make a step backwards, to understand what these two thought about each other on the moment of their first meeting.

Prince Józef, in comparison with many of his country men, participated in none of general Bonapart’s campaigns. What’s more - when the count of Provence, future king Louis XVIII resided in Warsaw in 1801-1804 he was an often visitor of Poniatowski’s palace. (So it may be said that before 1806 prince Józef was kind of a “royalist”.)

However, with Napoleon’s victory over Prussia and the emperor’s arrival to the former Polish lands chances of Poland rising from the dead skyrocketed! And prince Józef realized that he couldn’t have stayed away any longer, that if he wanted to participate in his motherland reappearing on the map of Europe he had to join the French.

As for Napoleon - in 1806 the emperor of Frenchmen didn’t have any warm feeling towards the nephew of the last king of Poland. One of the reason was that Claude Carloman de Rulhière, with whose book Histoire de l’anarchie de Pologne Napoleon had studied history of lands he was going conquer, wasn’t sympnathising the Poniatowski family. As other reasons there may be named a fact, that that time in French Army there were other Poles, whom the emperor knew better, like generals Jan Henryk Dąbrowski and Józef Zajączek.

Nevertheless, because when leaving Warsaw the Prussians kinda left the city “in charge” of Poniatowski, Napoleon had to meet prince Józef on entering the city. And from the data I was able to find it looks like the first meeting of the emperor and the prince happened on the 19th of December.

Prince Józef with Napoleon during the war campaign - drawing by Wacław Lipiński

With this image I am obliged to make a small digression. Napoleon, as recent investigation show, was not that short as he was thought to be because of English cartoons. Józef Poniatowski, on the other hand, was described by the contemporaries as a man of the middle height. So, in my opinion standing side-by-side these two must have looked like as people of the same height.

With the emperor so prejudiced against prince Józef, you may ask, how did it happen that less than a month later, on the 14th of January 1807, the latter was appointed as a Director of War? (In October of 1807, after the Duchy of Warsaw was created, Poniatowski’s post acquired the name of “Minister of War”.)

The answer is that behind the event there was a long and complicated intrigue, in which were involved such people as Joachim Murat (with whom, as you may remember, prince Józef quickly became friends) and Charles Maurice de Talleyrand, that time Foreign Minister of France. (As for the latter - his protection was asked by Pepi’s sister, Teresa Tyszkiewicz.)

And I can’t help but mention that Poniatowski’s nomination nevertheless had some advantages, because in comparison with his “rivals” he was a representative of the aristocracy, what might have provided support to Napoleon from the Polish high-society.

And speaking of high-society I can’t help touching a rather delicate topic, related with Napoleon’s love life, with which Poniatowski - in comparison with what is thought about him - had nothing to do. Yes, I mean the story of prince Józef (and other Polish dignitaries) supposedly forcing Maria Walewska to give in to the emperor in exchange for “Poland’s resurrection”.

SCREENSHOT FROM THE MOVIE “MARYSIA I NAPOLEON”. From left to right - Zdzisław Makłakiewicz as prince Józef, Gustaw Holoubek as Napoleon, Beata Tyszkiewicz as Maria Walewska, Ignacy Machowski as Duroc, Kazimierz Rudzki as Talleyrand, Juliusz Łuszczewski as Anastazy Walewski

Many people believe in it because it is written in so-called Walewska’s memoirs, but the investigations of Polish historians (like, fir example, Marian Brandys) prove that not everything might have happened like it was described in the memoirs. And prince Poniatowski’s involvement in the story is one of the facts. (The closest connection he might have had with this is that Mme Henriette de Vauban, his mistress, might have tried to influence Mme Walewska. But this is definitely a topic to continue in - if at all - a separate post.

So, let’s return to relationship between Poniatowski and Napoleon.

In 1809 the Duchy of Warsaw was attacked by the Austrians, and the Army of the Duchy showed its combat strength, winning the war and taking back from the enemy a huge a part of former Polish territories. The emperor was impressed by prince Józef’s inferiors’ performance, till such a degree that he awarded the latter with the highest imperial order of merit, the cross of the Legion of Honour.

But this was done “by proxy”, and the next, after year 1807, meeting of these two happened only in 1811 in Paris, where Poniatowski was invited to attend the christening of Napoleon’s son, the king of Rome.

Prince Józef arrived to Paris on the 23rd of April, and in the evening of that very day received an invitation from the emperor to appear next day in Saint Clou. What’s more, Poniatowski’s visit was to be happen at once, without an obliged advance as the ceremony of representation by the Saxon ambassador.

Prince Józef with Napoleon during the ceremonial audience at the Tuileries Palace - drawing by Maria Artwińska

And this is the image I like, because both - the prince and emperor - seem to have there the “correct” height!

Why was Napoleon so eager to see prince Józef? Well, at least because the latter brought with him news, which was dangerous to trust to paper. Namely - about planning Russian invasion of the Duchy and the tsar attempts to persuade the Polish Minister of War to switch sides and join the anti-napoleonic coalition. (Can’t help but mention there that Poniatowski revealed Napoleon mere facts, but not the names of the people communicating with him, in order not to put them in danger.)

And what about christening? Of course, prince Józef participated in the ceremony, and was even allowed to have an audience with the child-king. And, no doubts, there followed other court events, huntings, balls, etc. Old friend, Murat, and Poniatowski’s sister’s love interest, Talleyrand, introduced Pepi to the highest Parisian society. Also Pepi paid a visit to the ex-empress Josephine.

Prince Józef in conversation with Napoleon and the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, Talleyrand - drawing by Andrzej Zarzycki

And though initially prince Józef’s stay in the French capital was planned to be a couple of months, in fact it prolonged to four, till the emperor’s birthday. And leaving finally on the 27th of August Poniatowski received as a farewell gift a beautiful snuffbox planted with diamonds and a loan to… pay the debts of his sister Teresa.

And then there came the year 1812. Prince Józef was made the commander of the 5th Corps of the Grande Armée, and with the rest of the Army went to Russia.

However, above “The Polish corps” there was a commander not very competent and lucky, emperor’s younger brother Jérôme. And when it happened that the Russian Army under general Bagration managed to escape from the “second center” corps led by Jérôme, Napoleon blamed on this... prince Józef. 

In the battle of Smolensk, however, the Vth Corps managed to distinguish to such a degree, that together with its commander it was mentioned in a bulletin of the Grande Armée.

Jean-Charles Langlois, The Battle of Smolensk, 17th August 1812, detail

But after that battle there happened a very dramatic scene between the prince and the emperor. Because, as you might know, the city of Smolensk was the most eastern town ever belonged to Poland. So, if Napoleon’s goal was, as it had been proclaimed in the beginning of the war, to restore Poland, the Grande Armée should have stopped there, at Smolensk. Not to go further east.

And Poniatowski, as a witness of the scene, count Ostrowski, recalled, “begged Napoleon on his knees if not to direct the whole French Army to the south, to the former Polish lands, then at least to separated the Polish corps and send it along the Dnieper river, in the direction of Kiev...”

But emperor was implacable. 

What happened next we all know. The battle of Moscow, fire, retreat…

In December Napoleon left his army and speeded to Paris. Prince Józef returned to Warsaw, to rebuild “the Polish corps”, to reenforce the people left with new conscripts and to be ready to join with these people the emperor. When the latter comes with fresh forces, to fight the coalition back.

But the emperor of French didn’t hurry to return to the East of Europe. Failing to wait him Poniatowski had to leave Warsaw, going with his soldiers to Kraków. And was waiting here, for almost three month.

To no avail.

At the beginning of May all the territory of the Duchy of Warsaw, except Kraków, was occupied by Russians. A lot of Polish officers, acquaintances and even friends of prince Józef, resigned from the army. A lot of them were persuading the Polish commander-in-chief to follow, to join the anti-napoleonic coalition.

And… well, here I can’t write that Poniatowski rejected these propositions, all and at once. No, he was listening, thinking over… Asking for terms and thoroughly pondering on what would have been better for his motherland - to stay with France or not.

And on the night from the 6th to the 7th of May, on the eve of his 50th birthday the decision was made.

Prince Józef sees “the White Lady of the Poniatowski Family” on the night on 6/7 May 1813 in Krakow (drawing by Ludomir Ilinicz)

Having obtained no written guaranties from the other side, feeling that unconditional surrender - the only thing they were ready to accept from him - was not compatible with the soldier honor, the Polish Bayard decided to stay with Napoleon.

Although to make such a decision was for prince Józef extremely hard (especially if to take into account that he still had not got clear instructions from the emperor what to do). As Poniatowski confided next day to one of his colleagues that night thinking was so difficult to him that he even thought about shooting himself. Twice.

What is not proved - so this fact still stays a kind of legend - that that night prince Józef saw a ghost, the famous “White lady of Poniatowski family”. The fantom that was said to announce with its appearance very bad things to come…

And in 5 month there came… the battle of Leipzig.

Jean-Charles Langlois, The Battle of Leipzig (?)

This image is often signed as „the battle of Leipzig” though judging by the emperor’s, the prince’s and their horses’ poses I suppose it might be another version of “the battle of Smolensk”.

Of course, before Leipzig there was truce, then the battle of Dresden, then retreat and preparations. And in the beginning of the battle there was a moment when French victory still looked possible. But soon it turned out that it was an illusion.

And then the emperor… named general Poniatowski a marshal of France. Thus making him the only foreigner among that cream of French military elite.

Prince Józef Poniatowski receives the marshal baton, French engraving from the XIXth century

How did Poniatowski react to such a promotion? Did he become happy? Or, at least, glad?

No, not at all. (It looks like he felt that this appointment has more with his future attachment to France, than with military achievements.)

So prince Józef continued to call himself a general, sign documents according his old position. Furthermore, in the written explanation that Poniatowski sent to Warsaw it was stated that “if there was not war for Poland, no one would ever see him in uniform”. Which literally meant resignation. (In the very same letter, though, prince Józef announced that before leaving the army he had to escort Napoleon back to Paris.)

So, dear friends, who was interested in what might have happened with prince Józef had he not been killed at Leipzig - this is the answer. He would definitely retreat with Napoleon to Paris, than resigned and… here the certainty is a little bit less, but something tells me that he would have preferred exile to going back home. But I am not one hundred percent sure.

January Suchodolski, Napoleon and Józef Antoni Poniatowski at the Battle of Leipzig

And what about Napoleon? In his memories dictated on St. Helene he wrote that he should have made prince Józef the king of Poland (ha-ha, what would he have done if the latter rejected the crown?), regretted not doing this.

But what is, in my opinion, more interesting, is to learn what the ex-emperor thought on other Poniatowski-related topics? Did he regret blaming prince Józef for Jerome’s mistakes? Had he doubts on not listening the Polish commander’s pleas to take back former Polish land instead of going to Moscow?

Alas, I am afraid, this is a thing we’ll never know…

[some-stars]

Fic writer questionnaire! Tagged by @deputychairman, thank you!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

65....just waiting for 69 so i can celebrate

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

288,609

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

okay, so, there's a lot so we're gonna collapse some. So, 16: The Witcher (games and show), Supernatural, Dark Angel, Glee, Stargate (both SG1 and SGA), MCU, Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf, due South, DC (comics and movies), House of Leaves, Sense8, Harry Potter, Les Miserables (book), Doctor Who, and X-Men movies. Oh, and I wrote a lot of NSYNC RPF back in the day but you will never see it. (Unless you literally read it back then and remember one and want to reread it, I’m not ashamed of them if you were also in the pit with me. If that is the case feel free to ask.)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?  

all some children do is work: this one surprised me, i did NOT think there was this kind of appetite for almost-gen turned-into-a-kid fic, but i do really like the fic itself so i'm contented with its acclaim

method: i mean, it's fake dating, written back when there wasn't much non-modern-AU fake dating in witcher fandom (possibly there still isn't?) so, not surprised

Emergency Pants: this is the one that the Claw chose back in 2012 bc i had written very pornographic tony/bruce about a month after Avengers came out so there was a big appetite for it. i don't much care for it these days except i do still think the tony voice is good

warm you like the sunshine: deeply unsurprised this one is popular (and it's one of my own fics that i reread a lot), it's extremely tender BDSM with a juggernaut pairing, that gets the readers

As often as from thee I go: honestly kinda surprised about this one, which is just a 2500 word confection i wrote for my own satisfaction, but it does have explicit sex and jaskier crying about his feelings so maybe it makes sense

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I almost always do, but usually just with "Thanks!" unless it's a detailed or lengthy comment.

6) What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

"Long black night, morning frost" (Les Miserables) for absolute certain. One of the very few fics I've written with an outright unhappy and pessimistic ending (although I found it very cathartic to write). For Witcher fics, "Kind" and "go ask alice" are about as sad as I get.

7) What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Almost all of them, honestly. There's a point in happiness of endings where you really can't distinguish degrees. Probably the most--not saccharine, but distinctly Happy Ending-ish is either "Water like a stone" or "Darling, if you only knew," which to my eternal shame are both Glee fics. In terms of Witcher fics...it's still hard to pick! I think the kidfic trilogy ended very, very happily; I think "If you live through this with me" ended TOO happily.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've written?

I do not, and I don't read them, at least not since the days of the late 90s/early 2000s when I once read a really good Highlander/X-Files crossover (oh, and Martha's cosmic horror fic where Stargate and Angel and I think something else all cross over but it feels quite natural and right). I don't like fusions, either, most of the time.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never! In 20 years! I've been extremely lucky.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

ahahahahahahahhaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

yes...yes you could say i write smut. on occasion. you know, when the urge comes on me. i write mostly kink or at least kink-adjacent fic, but i've done some vanilla scenes too, and i write m/m and m/f and (occasionally) f/f. fun fact, my only rimming scene to date was in a f/f/f threesome!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so? I can't remember, honestly, which sounds dreadful but like...I don't READ the translation, because I am sadly monolingual, but I get a burst of delight when someone asks to do it (or to make a podfic).

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have tried--me and a friend once got like 12k deep into a co-written Tiger and Bunny fic--but it doesn't really work out for me. I am a massive control freak when it comes to writing and absolutely miserable to work with. (Although I wasn't so bad back when we wrote the T&B fic, we just sort of never got around to finishing it. Which is sad, because it was GREAT.)

14) What's your all time favorite ship?

Max/Alec from Dark Angel. I shipped it when I only started watching DA for Jensen's episodes, I shipped it when I fell in love with Max, I shipped it when I frantically hand-wrote notes about the fic I wanted to write, I ship it right now as I'm typing, I will ship it in my grave. Also it's not a het ship bc neither of them are heterosexual, thank you very much.

15) What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I only post finished fics, but in terms of things I haven't posted, I still think my "For A Good Time Call" fem!jaskier/yennefer(/geralt) AU would have been truly incredible. If you haven't watched that movie go watch it immediately so you can share this beautiful idea with me.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Ohhh, this and the next one are hard, because I truly don't know. Well, besides "porn." I am genuinely good at porn, which is HILARIOUS considering how many more sex scenes I've written than participated in. But overall, I have so much angst and neurosis and tenuous self-worth tied up in writing, I'm a very bad judge of my own skills. Also, it depends on the fandom! In some fandoms I'm good at dialogue, in others not so much. In some fandoms I'm good at pastiching the tone of the source and in others...Not So Much.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

If I had to pick a weakness, though, I'd say concrete imagery/detail. Like, the things that characters are physically doing either out of emotional reaction or just, they're doing something in that scene. Dialogue is usually easier (not sure if it comes out better, but it's easier).

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?  

I used to be mildly annoyed at it but! Now! On AO3! You can put a footnote by the French or whatever, so the reader can jump down to read a translation and then jump right back up. I now feel that if you choose to include dialogue (or any words) in another language from the rest of the story, this is the only acceptable method.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I remember vaguely in 1996 or so writing a couple pages of Kit whump for the Young Wizards books. I wrote some execrable nonsense in X-Files, but in my defense I had just turned 13. I don't THINK I wrote anything for Star Trek, which was my first fandom. Oh, and I attempted to write fic for Homicide, which I watched in 7th and 8th grade and lied about my age to get onto the good mailing lists (they were actually the bad, racist mailing lists, I would later realize, but again I was 13).

20) What's your favorite fic you've written?

Sorry to disappoint anyone who follows me for Witcher content, but it's either "The absolute absurdity of end-series items" (House of Leaves) or "A quite unlosable game" (Dark Angel). They are both Big Idea fics, and I feel like in both of them I got the Idea across brilliantly, and I'm truly proud of them and think they're the best things I've ever made. (In terms of Witcher fic, it's the kidfic trilogy for sure.)

I am not going to tag anyone because that always makes me mildly anxious, but if you read this and you want to do it you can say you were tagged by me! :D? :D?

[humanlighthouse]

Get to know me memes

I was tagged by both @vishcount and @jockvillagersonly <3

Part I

name: Anna :)

pronouns: she/they, i don’t care either way 

star sign: Sagittarius all the way baby~ (sag sun, Gemini moon, cap rising for my fellow astrology bitches)

height: 181-3cms depending on who measures it, 6 ft for the Americans :p

time: 4:06 pm, it’s a rainy afternoon and i’m trying to relax~

birthday: November 23rd 

nationality: french 

fave bands/groups: i super super suck at picking out favorites for music because my playlists are a MESS and i listen to a lot of random things. still gonna say The Midnight because they’re the only ones i’ve ever seen live (with @czeriah <3)

fave solo artists: same problem. Zhou Shen or Liu Yuning, these days, maybe?

song stuck in your head: i’ve had Divine, by Girls Generation stuck in my head for the last THREE FUCKING WEEKS and it’s good, i like this song, but please, brain, i’m begging you-

last movie you watched: i think it was Yin Yang Master (Straight Edition) with @jockvillagersonly ?

last show you binged: i finished 2gether recently, i’m gonna binge the last five episodes of Vincenzo this week

when you created your blog: 2012, i think? 

the last thing you googled: “1er mai suisse” because the 1st of may is a national holiday in France, but i came back home late yesterday and wanted to go out for groceries only to find every shop on my side of the border closed ^^” so i was hoping the shops Swiss side would be open (they’re not) 

other blogs: i have some but none i actually use, i’m not organized enough for side blogs lol

why i chose my url: i don’t even remember anymore? i’ve never ever changed it, i just like the idea of lighthouses a lot, like a tiny light in the night guiding people back to safety <3

how many people are you following: as of today, 3936. yeah. i know. 

how many followers do you have: 864 apparently?? who are you people??

average hours of sleep: ahahahahahahahahahahahahah (either like...two, or sixteen. sometimes a very nice average of eight, but rarely between, like, 10 pm and 6 am…)

lucky numbers: NINE

instruments: ahah no. music is math and i Don’t Vibe with math. i can sing fairly decently though?

what i’m currently wearing: home clothes so nothing interesting :p (sweatpants, a floral jersey dress, a giant sweater, and bare feet, which is the most comfortable thing ever)

dream job: mushishi, or magical doctor, or something of the sort. doctor, in general, but i already spent a decade a uni and i’m NOT ready to spend another one lol 

dream trip: anywhere in Asia, or Scotland with @czeriah 

fave food: pizza 

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: DMBJ because i’m a masochist (and also a girl, so i would probably die within minutes :)), H2G2 but only if i get a ride on a spaceship too, Star Trek for obvious reasons, NOT Star Wars for equally obvious reasons, any romance drama universe (or Dramaworld, while we’re at it) ToT

Part II

Last Song: this 

Last Movie: answered above, so last thing i watched: an episode of Saiki Kusuo no Psy Nan while i ate lunch 

Currently Reading: The Fate of Rome for article writing purposes, it’s a book about what biological/ecological elements helped bring about the fall of the Roman Empire, but it’s very well-written and interesting! (also that guy is the only one to ever mention the particular plague i’m writing about soooo)

Currently Watching: so many things at once dear god where does the time go (Vincenzo, Word of Honor, Fairyland Lovers, Killer Healer, Saiki Kusuo, Devil Punisher, The Way of the Househusband, Cobra Kai…) 

What is antipoetry to you: okay, i ADORE poetry, and this is a really fun twist on it imo. ironically, i think it only serves to elevate the mundane rather than lower poetry, making it…. kinda poetic in the end? lol. back when i was doing Japanese Studies, my favorite was Matsuo Basho who wrote a lot of what could, i guess, be considered antipoetry? like mosquitoes annoying him, and sleeping beside his stinky horse, in the same way that he wrote about stunning imagery and very moving emotions. King. 

Currently craving: a new obsession, please, please, please, i’m begging you brain, i need the dopamine ToT also some focus to work on my fics would be nice? 

Thanks for tagging me guys <3 I love you both so much <3 

Tagging @czeriah @tiredsosleeping and @etherealwhistler as usual, also @psychic-waffles and @golgafrincham if you guys haven’t been already! 

[aminiatureworld]

About Me

I realize that though I’ve posted a lot, and though I’ve linked my main account, I’ve ultimately said very little about me. Mainly because I don’t know what people would find interesting - they’re mainly here for my writing after all. Nevertheless since I’ve been so deeply lucky to have people following me, I think I might as well post at least a little about me. So that’s what this is!

General Information

Hello and welcome! I go by many names - mainly because I have trouble making decisions - but you can call me Bern.

As of updating I’m about a month and a half away from being 20, which is not completely terrifying at all.

My pronouns are she/they, and I speak English, though if you can stand the terrible grammar I’m technically bilingual in French, and I also speak a very little German. I am also unable to write concisely.

Writing Things

I’ve put this information all over the place - in my rules, on the main information page, etc. - but I thought I’d just put some stuff here, as I think it also would count as being “About Me.”

I currently write for Genshin Impact, the Ikemen Series, Mystic Messenger, MLQC, and sometimes LotR. I mostly write on request, so those are the main ones, but I have also written for the Witcher on this blog, and Kamisama Kiss if you go farther back (I would not recommend going farther back as the quality is shaky at best).

My writing schedule was trashed, so I’m now just doing the best I can.

Genshin Impact

I’ve currently been messing around with team compositions a lot, but here are the main two teams I’m currently using. 

Hu Tao, Xingiu, Ganyu, Zhongli

Ayaka, Ganyu, Xingqiu, Bennett

My favorite characters in general are Childe, Ningguang, and Scaramouche. Though honestly I love basically all the characters so much it’s hard to pick, and sometimes I go through different phases for runner up favorite. 

My favorite characters in terms of gameplay are Kazuha, Ayaka, and Hu Tao. 

My favorite element types is Cryo or Geo and my favorite weapon type is the polearm; my least favorite is probably the bow, so it’s somewhat ironic that I rely so heavily on Ganyu in my teams, as well as Childe and Fischl.

My playstyle and team comp style is nonexistant. I hit things with the Es and the Ults and hope they disappear. As that might imply I’m hopeless at both physical damage and artifact stats.

I’m stuck on Spiral Abyss Floor 10. This is because I do not use my resin like I should and everything is under leveled.

General Interests, Hobbies, Etc.

I don’t know my MBTI or anything in depth about my zodiac sign, but I would consider myself an introvert. I play the violin and flute, and I also dance, sing, and draw. I generally like the arts. Reading is my great joy in life. I adore Imperial Russian history.

My favorite films are Amadeus, Cyrano (2021), and A Silent Voice

My favorite series are Higurashi (2006), xxxHolic, Alias Grace, and the Crown

My favorite books are The Sunne in Splendor, Nicholas and Alexandra, the Bell Jar, and Pachinko

My favorite manga are xxxHolic, Kamisama Kiss, Yona of the Dawn, and Junji Ito’s works

My favorite pieces of music/songs are Erlkonig, Synchronicith, Mozart’s Symphony no. 25, Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata, and Every Letter

I don’t play many games besides gacha and otome games - ex: The Ikemen Series, Genshin Impact, Magia Record, Mlqc - but I do like Ace Attorney a lot

My mortal enemies are the Arthur Conan Doyle Estate (and people who try to extend copyright in general), bugs with too many legs or in too many numbers, and thunderstorms. Also the book the Catcher in the Rye

I don’t really think there’s anything else that interesting or notable about me - in fact this is probably too long already - but if you have a question you can always ask me. Hopefully this was somewhat interesting and... yeah!

[maddiethebull]

Satan (Obey Me!) - Prompt #9 - “I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel.”

I’m BACK Y’ALL After some InTrOSpeCtioN and HeaLiNG and LoTS of CRyINg ;)

Sorry for my absence. I hope you like it and thank you for making a request! Requested by @l3v1sblog

Here’s a song to listen to while reading if you’d like:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_R0Ix90hFu8 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You were cleaning around the lounge of The House of Lamentation, it was your chore for the day to help dust and reorganize whatever silverware or centerpieces that may be out of place. You always thought it was such a bore, you never found anything cool to talk about with the brothers while you cleaned there, unlike the many times you’d found an interesting book to talk about with Satan whilst you cleaned the library. Or the times that you found household items with huge bites taken out of them and asking Beel if he did it and him so innocently denying it… You were about to put some silverware away when something caught your eye, though, it was a red, leather bound book. There wasn't any writing on the cover, piquing your interest, so you opened it and the first thing you saw was a poem titled Suns and Seraphim dedicated to…… WAIT THAT’S YOUR NAME???. It read, 

“Could seraphim descend to earthly ground, 

For chance to brush thine lips with hues of rose;

Discard their grace and heav’nly guise, cast down,

They would; just as the sun is always bound.

The moon will rise upon the sun’s repose 

With gifts to thee inside night skies of opal tone

Of diamonds who’s shine dare not oppose  

That which resides in precious eyes, thine own. 

Si j'avais été dans le royaume des cieux 

Pour vous donner ces soleils souriants 

Et regarder votre beauté, 

Mon cœur volage me tenterait d'arracher 

Mes ailes angéliques et descendre; 

Je quitterais ce paradis creux pour être en Eden 

Avec mon amant, Mon ange de la terre, vous.

(written by Madeline Melcher (me lol) I dont know french so I used a translator btw)

Your jaw dropped, who could have written this?? It popped up in your head that it was most likely either Lucifer or Satan, it definitely wasn’t Mammon, Levi, or Beel. The maybes were Belphie and Asmo, but the chances they wrote that were rather slim. 

Curiosity killed the cat and you couldn’t restrain your fingers from flipping through the many filled pages of the notebook. Another page had read, 

“I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel when I’m with you. You are a glimpse of a Heaven lost to betrayal, a sun that, for so long, I’ve been missing. I promise, someday I’ll show you these and then I’ll take you on a picnic (maybe in the human world?).”

Involuntarily, a smile made its way to your lips and a blush to your cheeks until you heard a knock on your door, it was Lucifer,

“MC, Why aren't you cleaning?”

Your heart sped up, what if it was Lucifer who wrote this? You began stuttering, you liked him, sure, but not in the way these poems talk about. Oh god… what if you had to turn down the second most powerful demon ever? Oh lawd. 

“MC, we enjoy having you here but if you don’t finish your chores and put down whatever book you're reading-”

A HUGE sigh of relief escaped you, 

“So you don’t know this book?” You asked, still slightly on edge. 

He answered, “How could I know what you’re reading? There's not even a title on it.” He sighed and stepped closer, he eyed the book and,  “Is that Satan’s Journal? Oh dear, MC, I believe you’ve made a rather stupid mistake.”

Your eyes were open wide as you sat completely still and quiet staring at the book in your hands. Lucifer spoke up, seeing that you looked quite shocked and perhaps a bit scared, 

“If you would like, I can put it back where it was. Though I will be giving you extra chores because it seems that you also know what you did was an invasion of my annoying brother’s privacy.”

You thought a moment then spoke, 

“No, I don’t feel good about that… I think I should give it back to him. I don’t wanna lie to him.”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I am nobody to stop you, just be careful and if something happens then don’t refrain from calling me for help.”

“Thank you Lu-”

In a seemingly dejected and scoffing tone Lucifer said, “And do your chores.” 

With that he left you all alone to contemplate a plan to give Satan his journal back. Your mind was clouded with a million thoughts, the most prominent one being ‘he really thinks of me like that?’ A brush of pink crept onto your cheeks, thinking of him writing these poems. Thinking of him thinking of you. You wished so much that you could just revel in these thoughts, but the issue at hand was that, like Lucifer had said, you invaded Satan’s privacy. ‘What if he doesn’t feel that way anymore...’ Excitement and fear mixed inside your mind making you feel overwhelmed. How would you go about this?

‘Maybe I can just leave it in front of his door with a note on it. But, no, what if someone else picks it up?’ 

‘I could just burn it and forget about everything…….. No, MC, that’s NOT what’s gonna happen.’

You thought and thought and came to the realization that the easiest and most moral way to take care of the situation was just to knock on his door and hand it to him. You would tell him what you did and apologize and it would go very super incredibly smooth… yeah. You picked up the book ad headed towards Satan’s room with conviction, ‘you can do this MC!’ you thought. But when you got to his room, you froze like Mammon’s credit cards. 

You’d never felt more anxious in your life. You liked Satan a great deal, he was handsome and charming, he had a soft side that he showed you often, he was wonderful. Even though these poems were made out to you, you felt as if it couldn't possibly be real. And moreover, this was the Avatar of Wrath’s personal journal that you had gone through... You breathed heavily to calm your nerves and gave yourself a mini pep talk. Then, finally, you  meekly knocked on the door. Satan opened the door and saw you standing there, a smile crossed his face, 

His blonde locks messily hung around his bright green eyes with a beautiful happy go lucky look in them, 

“Hello, MC, find something interesting today? I certainly did and would very much like to give it to you.” A sweet chuckle ran off his words as he began to show you in but he froze and his expression changed drastically. 

With his eyes open wide he asked while pointing to the book, 

“What’s that?”

Stuttering and mumbling, fumbling your words you managed to get out a small “I’m sorry”

Silence. Silence that was louder than the rumble of a volcano.

He cleared his throat, 

“Did- did you read it?” his eyes fixated on the book you held, he looked incredibly worried. You weren't looking at him so you could only assume that his visage was pure rage, something you, a mere human, were terrified of.

“I-I-I-I-”

You were cut off by a chuckle, although this time it wasn’t sweet, per say, more nervous. But through your ever amazing perception skills, you again thought he was angry with you and as he said, 

“MC, I-”

You blurted out, “I’m sorry!” and ran away. 

Your heart beat a million miles per hour as you hastily made your way to your room, locking the door and looking down to see that your dumbass TOOK THE BOOK. You were silent on the outside, but screaming like Hell on the inside. 

Just then, a voice wriggled it’s way through the wooden door, it was Asmo. 

“MC, do you think I could borrow your hair straightener? Mine broke and I can’t go anywhere looking like this!”

Shakily, you replied, “Sure, it’s just on my bathroom counter.”

He waltzed in all happy and pretty but the look on your face made him stop in his tracks,

“What’s wrong?” With those two words, you nearly burst into tears.

“Oh hun…” he said as he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, letting you rest your head on his arm. “Why don’t we go to my room and talk about it? I’ll even give you a makeover, that’d be nice, yeah?”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “Yeah.”

You told him all about it as he did your makeup, making you feel slightly better, though, it wasn’t really the makeup, it was more seeing how much the brothers cared about you in times like this. He began to finish his own makeup as you sat down on the bed and your restless thoughts ran out of your mouth as if it were a marathon.

“And he got angry at me, I can’t stand seeing him angry, and and-”

“MC, honey, calm down,” he said as he finished doing his eye makeup, focusing on his reflection in the vanity mirror. 

“How can I? These poems, they’re beautiful but I just read his journal without asking and I feel so horrible about it. And I’m really scared of him when he gets angry… I just don’t know if I can face him right now.” You flopped from sitting up to splaying out on the pale pink bedspread.

“You said the exact same thing just five minutes ago! You won’t get anywhere from repeating that.”

“UGH but it's all I can think about right now… What if he hates me because of this…”

Asmo let out a light chuckle, “He doesn’t hate you sweetie, I don’t think he can.”

You frowned, “You don’t know that.”

After a moment’s pause, looking at how distraught you were with the current situation, Asmo spoke again,

“MC, let me tell you a secret, I’ve been watching this whole thing unravel, I could sense rom com vibes since the day you waltzed in! You should’ve heard the way he talked about you, it was constant ‘MC this and MC that’ ‘Oh I made MC laugh today,’ ‘MC let me borrow her pen’ ‘MC asked me to get coffee,’” Asmo said while doing a ridiculous impression of Satan, “But you can’t tell him I told you this or he’ll probably string me up by the ankles.”

You chuckled and when your smile faded, Asmo looked you in the eye and said in a sincere voice,

“He likes you girlie, I would even say he loves you. I’ve never seen him care about someone so much. When I said I don’t think he can hate you, I meant it. So go back there and tell him what you feel, this is the climax of your love story! And believe me when I say a good climax can fix anything!”

“Asmo ew.”

“Hehe, too much?”

You looked at the red book cover, “He really said that?”

Asmo rolled his eyes with a smile, 

“Yes! So what’re you waiting for?? I can feel the stress seeping out of you and it's not good for my skin.”

Meanwhile in his room Satan was pacing like a worried cat, mumbling to himself. ‘I knew MC didn’t feel that way…’ ‘How could I be so reckless? I left my journal in the dining room of all places!’ With a frustrated grunt, he brought his hands to his face, lowkey slapping himself in the face.  He sat down on his bed and tousled with his hair, as he did so, his focus was taken by a single blooming Mirage Flower on his desk. He winced and flopped onto his bed face down. The sigh he let out after that held an almost tangible emotion of frustration. He was frustrated with himself, but also with you. He didn’t plan on you finding out like this and it made him feel, well, kind of lame. He imagined telling you many times, none were as embarrassing as you reading his journal. He wanted to sweep you off of your feet like a prince in one of Levi’s animes, with the flowers mysteriously blooming and all of that. He turned to the side, restless and angry with himself and again was there the flower he had secretly picked from Diavolo’s garden, only to give to you. His lips turned to a frown and he sat up again, taking the flower from it’s vase and like a child, he plucked each petal saying “MC loves me.” “MC loves me not.” As the flower diminished to just the stem he finished with “MC loves me.” ‘Hmph, I look like I’m losing it, don’t I?’ he thought. Still, this powerful demon’s heart felt aflutter from something as silly as the words “MC loves me” as he plucked the final petal from the pistal. Those petals that would soon dry out and crumble to dust reflected in his aquamarine eyes like lilies floating in a pond. His brow furrowed and he decided it best to lay down looking the other way. 

You got off of Asmo’s bed, dropping the journal with the spine facing the ground, making it open to the last page that had only one sentence on it. Your heart beat sped up as you read the short entry and what you read was enough to make you happy for entire lifetimes. 

“I've loved you every day before today and I will love you every day after.”

You didn’t know why, but it was enough to bring the hint of tears to your eyes. He really thought of you like that? Did you think of him like that? As intensely in love as these poems and pages had shown?

Now holding the book in your hands, looking at the same red leather cover but seeing something different. You smiled, and said “Yeah. I think I do.”

Asmo turned around with a confused look on his face, “You do what?”

A blush rose to your cheeks much like a rose in bloom, 

“I love him.”

You left the room determined, set firmly on a path to Satan’s bedroom. 

All alone in his room, Asmo chuckled, 

“Have fun dearie.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a long one, I wrote this over a long period of time and I changed it up a lot. I was feeling sad when I wrote a lot of this, so it’s a bit really sad and I decided to end it like this because it kind of felt right? Like instead of explaining the whole thing from beginning to end, it would be a better read and be a better experience for the readers to be able to imagine whatever ending they would like when confronting the character Satan. I’m open to writing an ending that includes MC finally confronting him, though, just say the word and I’ll finish the story in a different way :) Thanks for reading! <3

also as a BONUS:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9raS7-NisU this song is basically what Satan was thinking the entire time lmao 

[iamacolor]

30 questions tag

tagged by @astarlightmonbebe thank you!

i’m tagging (no pressure of course) @paintedimagining @rainbowv @kdongyoung (or @jeonyeobin as you wish) @younqjo @djxiao @ryujinsman and anyone else that i’m too lazy to think about or that would like to do it

1. name/nickname: violette

2. star sign: pisces is the only one of my signs that i know lol

3. height:1.77 m which I think is around 5ft10?

4. birthday: 13th of march

5. favorite band: i’m going to pretend this says favorite bands and answer: day6, l.e.j, standing egg, and n.flying

6. time: 22:33 (france) (edit: 22:53 it took me 20 minutes to finish this omg)

7. favorite solo artist: oooh that’s hard...yuna, paloma faith, adele, lim hyunsik, frances, maëlle, pomme, yseult, ultimo

8. song stuck in my head: BEcause by dreamcatcher and also I don’t like you by grace vanderwaal

9. last movie I watched: probably the box

10. free space: i’m about to go catch up on the latest devil judge’s episodes

11. last show: ted lasso! i’m waiting for season 2 to be fully out to watch it as I’m currently watching the devil judge

12. when I created this blog: i think summer 2014 or 2015

13. what I post: i reblog a lot about what i’m into, i sometimes liveblog dramas or gif stuffs and i talk a lot in tags

14. last thing I googled: my height in feet, i can never remember it

15. other blogs: not anymore

16. do I get asks: sometimes and it’s very nice

17. why I chose my url: my name is french for both the flower violet and the colour purple

18. following: around 340?

19. followers: around 1500? (im too lazy to open a new tab and check these numbers)

20. average hours of sleep: oh dear that’s a hard one, i’m still not really better at self discipline for helthy stuffs so maybe 6? sometimes a lot less and sometimes a lot more if i don’t have work

21. lucky number: i don’t have one but i like 13 despite it being an unlucky number for most people since i was born on a 13th

22. instruments: none

23. what am I wearing: my pyjamas!

24. dream job: very good question that i am very much asking myself since i’m just finishing my studies and because i studied to be a fashion designer but that can means a variety of things and i don’t know if i want to chose just one of these things to be. but i guess a fashion-embroidery designer/mender would be the dream? and i might just get to do something like that a little so...

25. favorite food: oh that’s another tough one i love a lot of stuffs but bread maybe? and pasta and cakes and fruits and also crisps and pancakes and a lot of things

26. tea/coffee: tea sometimes, coffee never

27. nationality: french

28. favorite song: oh i do not have one at all i’ve given up

29. last book: station eleven by emily st john mendel, very nice but i picked it up at the library not really checking what the storyline was and i’m not sure i would’ve picked had I known it was about a pandemic (written in 2018 though) but i’m glad I did it’s very touching and fascinating, very human

30. top three fictional worlds i’d like to live in: one with no covid or global warning or imminent natural catastrophes would be nice but i’m good where i am tbh i have a lot to do!

[ladyherenya]

Books read in December

I set myself some reading goals for the end of the year -- finish any books I’d already started, read the books I'd already borrowed, and to read ebooks I’d bought before buying any more. But I guess most of those books just weren’t the right genre? A few exceptions aside, this month I read a bunch of other things instead.

Also read: The Frost Fair Affair and Holiday Brew by Tansy Rayner Roberts, and Sweetest in the Gale and 40-Love by Olivia Dade.

Reread: Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn and Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston.

Total: thirteen novels (including two audiobooks and two rereads), three novellas, and three story/novella collections.

Favourite cover: The cover was what caught my attention for Finding My Voice and Old Baggage.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, Or What You Will by Jo Walton and The Disorderly Knights by Dorothy Dunnett.

Next up: A Most Improper Magick by Stephanie Burgis.

*

Queen’s Play by Dorothy Dunnett (narrated by David Monteath): In 1548, Francis Crawford of Lymond arrives in France, incognito in order to protect Scotland’s queen, seven-year-old Mary. I enjoyed this, even though I am not very interested in the antics of the French court and thought The Game of Kings benefitted from having more characters who I found wholly likeable and/or who matter, personally, to Lymond. Dunnett is an impressive storyteller -- vivid descriptions, lively dialogue, nuanced characters and twists that take me by surprise. Moreover, those satisfying puzzle pieces explain the plots and intrigue, give insight into personalities and develop the narrative’s themes (here, the consequences of power). 

The Kinship of Secrets by Eugenia Kim: In 1950, four year old Inja lives with her grandparents and uncle in Seoul, while her sister Miran is in America with their parents. War delays the family’s reunion. This is a fascinating portrayal of two sisters growing up in different countries, and an incredibly poignant story about a family separated. Compelling, and beautifully written, and despite moments of intense grief, hopeful. I liked how, in the end, Inja and Miran didn’t have all the answers.. But I wonder if I’d have found the ending more satisfying if I had a deeper understanding of who they both were as adults.

Teacup Magic series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Tea and Sympathetic Magic: Stephanie Burgis recommended this novella as something similar to her Harwood Spellbook series and it certainly has a similar appeal: romantic fantasy, bordering on comedy-of-manners territory. Like Georgette Heyer but with magic and diversity and an intention to challenge problematic and outdated attitudes. Charming and cosy, like a good cup of tea rather than a frothy hot chocolate. Miss Mnemosyne Seaborne, a reluctant guest at a houseparty. She joins forces with the other guests after an unexpected abduction occurs. Entertaining, and even though it was too short for me to really become invested, I immediately wanted to read the sequel.

The Frost Fair Affair: After her previous adventures, Mneme has new friends, a suitor and a campaign: overturning the social conventions which prevent women from travelling by portal. After someone in Town steals her political pamphlets, she gets caught up in a mystery. I enjoyed this oh so much! I found myself caring a lot more about Mneme and her relationships; I liked the mixture of intrigue and danger, and how in the cause of dealing with these, Mneme learns more about the man she hopes to marry; and the Frost Fair, on a frozen river, makes a delightful setting. I'd love to read more.

Belladonna U(niversity) series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Unreal Alchemy: Oh, this is my new favourite! Urban fantasy about Australian uni students who are connected to an indie rock band, Fake Geek Girl. These stories are funny, geeky and romantic, with great chapter titles and lots of fandom references. They employ different points of view and different narrative styles in a way that’s really effective. I love the characters and how important and intense their non-romantic relationships are. Between them they have a variety of romantic/sexual relationships and feelings, but friendships and familial relationships, like the one between twin sisters Hebe and Holly, also drive the narrative. The first collection contains four stories/novellas.

Fake Geek Girl -- Ferd moves into the Manic Pixie Dream House; Holly and Sage argue about the future of the band.

Unmagical Boy Story -- Viola has feelings about her best friend losing his magic, transferring colleges and making new friends.

The Bromancers --  The band and frriends spend a weekend at a magical music festival.

The Alchemy of Fine -- A prequel about the band’s origins.

Holiday Brew: This collection is more serious and less overtly fandom-y than the first, but arguably still very meta (especially if you consider Viola, Jules and Ferd as a response to the trio in Harry Potter). I sat down intending to read just one of these stories -- and ended up reading them all.

Halloween Is Not A Verb -- Holly invites various people to their mums’ place for Halloween.

Solstice on the Rocks -- A short story about university graduation.

Kissing Basilisks --  Begins on New Year’s Day, is compelling, and picks up the non-band-related narrative threads from Fake Geek Girl.

Missing Christmas by Kate Clayborn: This novella is loosely connected to Beginer's Luck but stands alone. It's sweet. Business partners and best friends Jasper and Kristen pay a last minute trip to a client and get trapped by a blizzard, which pushes them to reconsider the boundaries they’ve drawn in their relationship. I liked the moments which showed that they’re an effective team because they know each other so well and can communicate through subtle body language. 

Finding My Voice by Marie Myung-Ok Lee: Ellen is a Korean-American teenager in her final year of high school. Her story is about applying for college, gymnastics training, Ellen’s relationships with her best friend and her first boyfriend, dealing with racism at school and with her parents’ expectations that she will follow her sister to Harvard. It’s very short, first published in 1993. I was aware of all the places where a YA novel written today would be allowed to give more details and to expand the story, but it was still interesting.

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas: I’ve borrowed this several times this year, only to return it unread each time, and I was starting to wonder if I really wanted to read it. But once I actually sat down and focused, I quickly realised that I definitely did! I became completely engrossed in this Mulan retelling. It’s a tense adventure. I enjoyed the characters and their interactions, particularly the elaborate courtesy of formal conversations, and the way Mulan and her companions value loyalty and camaraderie. I thought this was a very believable take on the whole girl-disguised-as-a-boy thing too.

Dear Mrs Bird by AJ Pearce: In 1940, Emmy wants a newspaper job but is instead typing up letters for a women’s magazine and discarding mail from readers whose problems are Unacceptable. Frustrated that Mrs Bird won’t offer advice to so many women in need, Emmy's tempted to take matters into her own hands. Her optimism means she makes some naive mistakes, some of which made me wince, but it’s also an incredible strength. She's delightful company. I really like how much of this story is about her friendship with Bunty and I enjoyed the insight into women's magazines and the Auxiliary Fire Service.

The Lonely Hearts Dog Walkers by Sheila Norton: Recently separated, Nicola moves back in with her mother, starts as a teaching assistant at her daughter’s new school, gets a puppy and joins a group of dog walkers, who embark upon a mission to save the local park. This was very low-angst and, once I realised the sort of story it was, kind of predictable. I can recognise the appeal of this brand of realism, but personally would have preferred more humour or more emotional complexity. Were Nicola a colleague, it’d be easy to find things in common to discuss, but her story wasn’t quite what I was looking for.

Chasing Lucky by Jenn Bennett: When Josie and her mother return to Beauty to look after the family bookshop, Josie has plans -- keep to herself, finish high school, secure a photography apprenticeship, move to LA. But after Josie accidentally breaks a store-front window and her childhood friend Lucky takes the blame, Josie’s priorities change. I enjoyed this more than I expected to. I particularly liked how Lucky subverts people’s expectations, and how Josie’s family works at communicating better with each other.

Old Baggage by Lissa Evans (narrated by Joanna Scanlan): It’s 1928 and Mattie Simpkin, a now-middle-aged militant suffragette, lives in Hampstead with her friend Florrie Lee (aka The Flea). Mattie gives lectures about the suffragettes but realises she’s not reaching the younger generation. So she starts a club for “healthy outdoor fun” for teenage girls. Mattie is wonderfully forthright -- amusing, engaging and informative when it comes to things she’s passionate about -- but she’s also fallible.  A really delightful yet bittersweet story about friendship and loss and the opportunities available for women. I liked its awareness that being able to loudly be yourself is a privilege not everyone has. 

There’s Something About Marysburg series by Olivia Dade:

Teach Me: Rose is unimpressed -- not only must she share her classroom with the new history teacher, he’s been given her Honors World History class. There’s something particularly satisfying about people who have been hurt and lonely finding support and love in each other. I like that they get to know each other over many months. I like Martin’s relationship with his teenage daughter and Rose’s relationship with her ex’s parents is so touching that one scene made me cry. And it was interesting seeing the US school system from the perspective of experienced teachers; I appreciated the details about their jobs.

Sweetest in the Gale: a Marysburg story collection contains three novellas about couples in their forties.

Sweetest in the Gale -- Griff is worried when Candy, a fellow English teacher, returns for the new school year uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. A really sweet romance about people who are navigating loss and grief.

Unraveled -- Maths teacher Simon is assigned to observe and mentor the new art teacher, Poppy. I enjoyed the threads of mystery.

Cover Me -- After a concerning mammogram result, Elizabeth marries an old friend so she’s covered by his health insurance. Predictable as anything, but that made it a safe position from which to explore serious and sobering topics.

40-Love: I’m not interested in tennis or holiday resorts; I was disappointed that this novel wouldn’t show Tess being an assistant principal; and even though some of my favourite fictional couples have a significant age-gap, I’m wary about age-gap romances (and socially-programmed to think it’s odd for a woman to date a much younger guy). But I liked the other stories in this series and I was curious. It’s Not really My Cup of Tea, but I was convinced that Tess and Lucas were both capable of making their (somewhat unconventional) relationship work. An interesting exercise in challenging my social-programming.

The Viscount Who Loved Me by Julia Quinn: After watching Bridgerton (not always to my tastes but mostly fun), curiosity prompted me to read the opening of the second novel, and I was so entertained by Kate Sheffield verbally sparring with the viscount, whom Kate is determined to prevent from marrying her younger sister. I continued to be entertained up until the viscount acts a bit too entitled on his wedding night (that’s unattractive, if outrightly problematic). Which left me in rather an uncharitable mood for the final act, so I can’t identify if the drama of dealing with past traumas didn’t meet the standard of the earlier comedy or if I just hold such scenes to differing standards.

[pricechecktranslations]

I am definitely not the best at my listening Japanese, and it doesn't help that they speak SO DARN FAST that I have trouble catching all of the words. So, it's possible I'm saying all this stuff while having misunderstood things, missed things, etc.

But, these are my many scattered thoughts on the Daughter of Evil musical, written as I was watching it in full for the first time (so, might not be the best thought out or expressed but still):

-Despite all of the changes, it's interesting to see how many moments appear to be lifted directly from the novels. It does feel like they had a good familiarity with the source material, but for whatever reason chose to make the story different (perhaps in part to have it be a standalone adaptation rather than going into the entire Daughter of Evil series lore).

-"The Orange Coast" is a very nice song, and I like it a lot. In fact, I like a lot of the songs that are exclusive to the musical. The exposition song about the plight of the starving people, the duet between Riliane and Kyle (the irony in that both are fond of each other but as Riliane sings of her excitement for the wedding Kyle is eager to break it off), Clarith's lament after losing Michaela, etc. There's only a few that I really disliked, either because they weren't sung well or because they felt too anachronistic in their instrumentals. However, because they had their own songs the ones that mothy made felt out of place. The only one I think really fit was Regret Message and the eponymous Daughter of Evil.

-The candy castle is pitiful. It's supposed to be an extravagant display of Riliane's utter selfish greed, to have something so large that she can't even eat all of it while her people are starving. It should be at least twice the size that it is in the play--it's supposed to be much taller than the average person, with enough room that someone could conceivably be inside.

-Riliane being unrepentant might be one of the things that pisses off fans the most, but it feels somewhat more appropriate in this adaptation. This version of Riliane shows far more awareness of the evil in her actions and how it makes her look, even taking a more active role in them, as opposed to the more innocent and sheltered Riliane of the book. Her biggest regret in the end is not that she was a horrible person (because she seems to have sort of made her peace with that early on) but that she didn't appreciate Allen's loyalty and devotion to her when she had the chance. Her dismissal of him is far more explicit in this version, where he outright tells her to her face that he's on her side and she just scoffs at him, and she spends most of the story talking about how alone she is. Basically, their relationship is the focus of her character arc rather than her morality. Even her will to live at the end is almost solely because he died for her rather than finding her own reason to live.

-Josephine is a diva and I kind of love it. I don't necessarily mind the addition of ridiculous elements like a talking horse (well, who talks to other horses anyway)--this is a stage play after all. Breaking the fourth wall is kind of an intrinsic part of theatre, and I'm always of the mind that a live performance being entertaining is more important than it being dramatic. But that's just my tastes, I think.

-I will say, the guy who plays Allen is TERRIBLE at the songs they have him sing. That's not to say he can't sing at all, but songs like "I'm a Servant" really show that he just can't hit those notes to save his life. I also don't care much for his acting, it feels a little like he's substituting shouting for emotion. Germaine is sort of the same way, but I don't mind it as much from her because her character is supposed to be boisterous.

-The exclusion of Elluka doesn't really bother me, as she had very little plot presence in the first novel to begin with (note, I don't think she's removed entirely--there appear to be some allusions to her character existing, such as in the early exposition segment with Mariam and Leonhart where she's on the other side of the stage as a hooded figure in shadow). I think it might be possible that they did so as a part of the overall trend of the musical removing the fantasy elements to begin with--no Elluka, no magic, no mention of Michaela as a former spirit (although...there is that vision of her that Allen has, not sure what to make of that), etc. In fact, the inclusion of demons is deconstructed by Keel later in the story, speculating that such things are merely scapegoats people use to hide the evil already lurking within themselves. ...Although, well...Leonhart seems to show up as a ghost...So...

-Michaela and Clarith's dynamic is interesting. It's much more light-hearted than the heavy themes of abuse and emotional recovery in Wiegenlied--Michaela's more of a happy-go-lucky pixie dream girl with no social awareness at all than simply naive about human relationships, and Clarith is down to earth and shy rather than brooding and self-demeaning at every turn (I think maybe because they shifted her into the viewpoint character). Though that might be a result of seeing them after they've already moved to Aceid. One change I found entertaining is that it's Keel who hires them for Michaela's singing instead of Mikina hiring Clarith out of generosity towards an oppressed minority, and as a result Michaela ends up making this big show about how she absolutely must have Clarith with her and that she can't do anything without her. It's cute.

-Keel is supremely entertaining and I like his character in this a lot. He's an excellent choice for outside narrator. Even in the novels he was kind of the one guy that wasn't bogged down by a bunch of emotional drama.

-There are a lot of extreme tonal shifts. Funny things following really dramatic things (Michaela and Clarith's introduction follows Germaine's declaration of war, Kyle being a goofball in the revolution follows Allen's attempts at getting Micheala to safety while struggling with his orders to kill her, etc). I think the biggest and most jarring tonal shift is Josephine defending Allen from Kyle and his lackey, though--that's the one that kind of took me right out of the story, though I will say Josephine's actor is quite good with the dance-battling. This is a big contrast from Evillious--I don't think there are many, if any scenes where mothy deliberately sacrifices dramatic moments for a joke. I don’t know if it’s made worse by the fact that Josephine fighting with a sword may not have been a joke, and it may have been something we were supposed to take seriously.

-I wonder why they kept in the green onion. I guess because it's a good character joke for Michaela, but plot-wise it no longer serves any actual purpose without Elluka and Gumillia. In fact, its inclusion kind of makes Michaela seem a bit weirder as a person, because instead of it being a magical tool that she uses she's just excitedly showing it off to people and coming up with random things you could do with it. It's a little egregious too because, while the girl who sings for Michaela is actually quite good, I don't think her voice is well suited to the "Very Amazing Green Onion" song that goes with it. It's kind of used as a vehicle for Allen's developing crush, but...Well, I'm not sure I'd develop feelings for someone just because they ranted about a vegetable at me for a few minutes.

-Kyle is...a strange fish. I think the reduction of his character to a lovestruck fool makes some sense because this is how he comes off before his character development in the series, and his psychological issues are a little too complex to go into in a two hour musical that's not even about him. So, instead of "this guy was heavily emotionally abused and then possessed by a lust demon", they go with "he's a big enough idiot to cause all this political strife over a crush". He's an outright parody of himself in every way, in every scene (like him being all diva about his Karchess identity). Having his little toady around him (I'm not sure if that's supposed to be Arkatoir or not but I do know he mispronounces Kyle's name) serves as a good balance to the energy of his character, so I think that's well done. But I also can't help but find him obnoxious, and while I think he actually can sing, his voice cracks a lot at bad times. I certainly don't love him like I did his novel character, but then given that this is a stage adaptation I think all of them are a bit more shallow than in the story proper. This is, of course, not taking into account how thoroughly unpleasant he becomes after Michaela's death, but that's somewhat in character, so.

-I question a lot of the costuming choices that aren't based directly on the novel appearances. Minis, for example, does not look like a French minister at all.

-Reina is very good at playing both Riliane's harsh, cold side, and her playful, childish side. But these two sides don't always feel like they come from the same person, which I'm not sure is a credit to the way the character is played or a detriment. It does make for a frightening shift when her murderous declarations come after a childish tantrum (like her declaring war on Elphegort). She is, also, very good at singing, which is notable considering how at least half the other cast is not so good.

-There is a neat little callback during the revolution that I liked--Germaine is introduced as fighting the palace soldiers for fun (and winning) to show off what a brash tomboy she is, and she fights those same soldiers the same way later on (it's kind of sad, actually, as they don't want to fight her).

-The framing of events near the end is actually somewhat interesting--it blends together the green invasion with the revolution, intermixing Michaela's death with the main emotional climax of the plot. The whole play in general feels rushed and lacking in enough time to truly develop all it's trying to accomplish (like, for example, WHY Michaela's death is such a big deal for everyone), but this part is actually well executed. Also note that Michaela was burned alive in this version (Ney spreads a rumor that Germaine is a witch who set the fire).

-I'm not exactly an expert but the fight scenes are decently choreographed and enjoyable to watch (though some of the extras are a bit lackluster in their performance, imo).

-I do like how they blended Chartette and Mariam's fight with Germaine and Gast's--it's a good way to save time without Gast there (I mean, his primary contribution outside of being a Final Boss was the Venom mercenaries causing tension in the country, and there isn't enough time for that so I understand cutting him out too), and has some depth with Chartette moved by Germaine's strength and determination into helping defeat her instead of continuing to defend the palace. We also get to see Mariam as the badass she is, which is nice. Though, I think the song they sing while they're fighting would be better if they weren't clearly running out of breath from the actual physical fighting (I know lip-synching is taboo in SOME circles but having the song pre-recorded might have helped? I don't know).

-I don't know what to make of Ney--partially because she's one of those people that speaks too fast for me to really understand, but I'm also not sure how we're to take her character without all the backstory and latter-end plot relevance behind it. She's certainly creepy, which I suppose is the most important thing. She does seem to have the same role--a double agent for the queen of Marlon--but it's severely watered down by the lack of Prim's presence in the story.

-I know that it's leading up to something heartwarming, but there is something kind of creepy to me about Allen shouting "TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF" at Riliane. And in general, I find a lot of the emotional moments undercut by the shouting melodrama of the acting. But, there is something interesting in Riliane actively agreeing to Allen's twin switch after he talks her into it, rather than being tricked into it like in the novel. The depiction of the tradeoff is good too, showing Allen literally taking her place at the guillotine as he monologues his feelings to make it more clear what it is he's doing, with us actually getting Riliane's perspective on the whole thing whereas her emotions on his switch weren't really explored properly in the novel.

-Honestly, I didn't mind the way the revolution ended either. It's...kind of supposed to be a dreary end. That's the point--Germaine's quest for vengeance only served to bring harm to the people she loved, and while they did depose Riliane, who was a genuinely terrible monarch, the ultimate structure of the country with nobles on top remains unchanged for generations afterwards. Germaine being killed sucks, but then if this is a standalone there's really no more need for her character (and killing her is what Kyle tries to do a few years down the line in the books anyway, for the same reasons too. It's also sadly in character for the version of him in this musical).

-I would also suggest that instead of people calling him Kyle, they follow his toady's lead and call him "Kael" instead.

-I actually think Riliane's declaration that she's evil at the end is meant to be...more an expression of her lack of self-worth. When she's escaping she expresses doubt as to how to be a good person, and shock that Allen would give his life for her in spite of who she is. When she says "I regret nothing, because I'm evil", I don't think that's meant to be taken as a boast. I think really the big thing is that this story is made to be a tragedy, not necessarily the Daughter of Evil series' idea of growing as a person. Though, that doesn't mean I like the ending with her telling Clarith to bow to her necessarily--I think it kind of exists just to be a bookend of "this is the Daughter of Evil" rather than giving the audience something to chew on after they leave the theater. They had a perfect opportunity to capitalize on the idea of Clarith and Riliane being similar (lonely people that had someone die in their place, sort of) and bonding over that, but they missed it.

In conclusion: Eh, I liked it. I wouldn’t necessarily watch it again, but if I could ever see it live that might be nice.

[janephillipsblog]

Babette’s Gift

I recently closed my first semi-professional theatre experience with Fire Exit Theatre. It was quite a journey and a very rewarding and challenging one at that.

Back in August, I auditioned for “Babette’s Feast”, a play adaptation of the short story by Isak Dineson, conceived and developed by Abigail Killeen and written by Rose Courtney. It turned out to be a very unconventional audition as the venue was not open during my time slot. We auditioned in groups and my group ended up auditioning outside in a residential area. We worked on scenes from the script as well as doing group performance exercises for the director, Jeany Van Meltebeke, to see how we worked together as an ensemble.

Several days later I received an email from Artistic Director, Val Lieske, offering me a role in the ensemble, with the note that specific roles would be assigned at a later date. A couple of weeks later, another email was sent with assigned roles. I would be playing Babette as well as a little bit of ensemble work in the first part of the play before Babette makes her first entrance. 

Photo Credit: Andrea Cross Photography. With Kyla Ferrier and Sarah Haggeman.

“Babette’s Feast” is set in a small Norwegian town called Berlevaag and centres around two sisters, the children of a dean to a religious sect. The two sisters, Martine and Philippa, despite their beauty, offers of marriage, and for Philippa, a chance to be an opera singer, remain in Berlevaag as spinsters throughout their life, carrying on the work of the dean after his death. In their autumn years, they take in Babette, a French refugee from the Paris Commune, as a housekeeper. Babette was once a celebrated chef at the Café Anglais in Paris and had fought as a communard, alongside her husband and son, both of whom were killed in the civil war. The story culminates in Babette’s gift to the sisters and the community – a fabulous feast of French cuisine.

We had about a three-month rehearsal period before we moved into the Engineered Air Theatre at Arts Commons, throughout which, Jeany gently pushed us to “tell good story,” paying attention to the details and working on the subtext of the script. Looking back it was incredible how much we gleaned from between the lines of what at first appeared to be a simple script and story. Rachel Peacock, as well as being a part of the cast, was the composer and musical director for the production and her compositions enhanced the show no end, with the music performed with a harp, violin, glockenspiel, our vocals and even toy wooden blocks!

I made some personal discoveries as a performer during the process. Jeany would often tell me to work on being neutral emotionally at certain parts in the play. Well, people have always been able to read me like a book and I am a terrible liar as it simply shows too much on my face. Poker player I am not! For acting there is so much to work on within to achieve what the audience will eventually see. Part of that skill is learning to live in the present, moment by moment. What human doesn’t wander emotionally into the past or future? In the many years of doing theatre, I have learnt that this mental wandering out of the present can trip a performer up in a performance.

During the rehearsal process, imposter syndrome also raised its ugly head on occasion. This was my first production out of the community theatre world where most other fellow cast mates have other careers and acting is a hobby and a different way to socialize for a lot of people. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it is a fantastic hobby and there is nothing wrong with not wanting to pursue it as a career and a person can still strive for excellence in a pastime. From the day of the first read-through, I discovered that I was among kindred spirits. I was with people working in some capacity within the industry and who wore many hats like myself, often with many projects on the go at the same time. I felt at home, however often my anxiety would whisper negative things in my ear that I didn’t belong.

The biggest challenge for me was the fact that Babette was French. Whilst it wasn’t a goal of the production for the performers to have impeccable accents, I did not want Babette to sound English. I also did not want her to have a stereotypical French accent. There were also a few lines in French within the script which presented another challenge. During high school in Ottawa, probably in Grade 11 or 12 (I have moved from the UK the summer before I started Grade 11), I was kicked out of Grade 10 French for struggling with the work in the class. My mother is still angry about it and I realize now that it was probably more to do with the teacher wanting to keep her class averages up than my learning ability. I was a shy and self-conscious teenager who hated speaking aloud in class and had always been very self-conscious about the way I spoke even in English, let alone a foreign language, as we had moved around a lot and I always had a different dialect. Those early days in high school in Ottawa usually meant I had to repeat sentences about three times to my friends before they understood what I was saying! The result was that I no longer had confidence in my ability to even learn to speak a second language. I seem to recall that in the UK, I had quite enjoyed French and German classes, but in Ottawa, everyone was so far ahead in French. The last French course I took was in first year of university as a degree requirement. My inability to speak Canada’s other official language was one of the reasons I ended up moving to Alberta.

There is a section in the script where the ensemble repeat some of the French words spoken by Babette. At the first readthrough during which I most likely pronounced the French lines incorrectly and with limited understanding of the meaning, having the words repeated caught me by surprise and in a moment of self-consciousness, I honestly thought some of the others were correcting my pronunciation! This was not the case! Though certainly down the road, Caleb and John, other cast members (Caleb was also the assistant director), helped me with the pronunciation. Google Translate also became a good friend! I talked about my hang-ups with speaking French with Caleb about two weeks before we moved into the theatre. He asked me when I was going to let them go. Right now, was my reply! I had already upped the ante for myself by inviting French-speaking friends to the show and at this point it was time to really put in some work. I would record myself speaking Babette’s lines to ensure they sounded like Babette and not me.          

Photo Credit: Andrea Cross Photography

By the week of our final rehearsals, I felt that Babette had really arrived. I felt confident in my ability to portray her on stage. I was super-excited to be in a show at the Engineered Air Theatre. I had been in the venue once during the Festival of Animated Objects in March (I love the retro décor) and on the first day we were in the theatre, I remembered the intention I had set through a selfie on Facebook in May during the Bouffon workshop (held in the ATP rehearsal hall) that I hoped to again enter and exit the stage door of Arts Commons many, many times in the not too distant future. Well it came true! That is the power of manifestation, folks – I also manifested a free transit ticket that day.  

Opening night was on a Wednesday. Fire Exit has a tradition for everyone to wear red shoes on opening night (started by Val and her red boots). I found a really nice pair that day in the WINS thrift store and they went really well with my green Christmas leggings. We had a talk back after the performance, my first ever. There were a couple of complimentary comments about how humble Babette was. In the lobby after, a lady asked if I was French! All our performances went really well, despite sickness making its way around the cast (par for the course for a December show – I was lucky as I had been sick a few weeks prior). Once we had an audience, we discovered that what had seemed like a serious play for the most part, was actually quite whimsical and fun throughout. Our audiences were great, very loving and kind. My French-speaking friends told me that they understood every word and joked how they were going to converse with me in French now.

Photo Credit: Andrea Cross Photography. From left to right: John Moerschbacher, Kyla Ferrier, Daniel Kim, Caleb Gordon, me, Sarah Haggeman, Rachel Peacock, Kendra Hutchinson and Ainsley Daumler.

“Babette’s Feast” was over too soon after a run of only seven performances. It will be an experience that I will forever treasure and remember. Thank you to all involved for sharing this incredible journey with me! 

[leilas-digital-scrapbook-blog]

Giving Love a Bad Name – Confessions of a Fanfiction Writer

I know we’re supposed to blog about our major projects this week and I promise I will get to that soon, but I’d like to go off book for a moment to address something that’s been bugging me since last Thursday’s class. As someone who’s always tried to engage with fandom in as creative a way as possible, I hoped a class on user generated content would offer a fresher perspective than the usual amount of prejudice and self-righteous superiority that sadly seem to accompany the subject of fanfiction even amongst people that make stories and their passion for it their bread and butter.

Guess I should have known better.

In the world of professional writers, fanfiction is still a filthy word. It sums up everything that’s wrong with the people you’re sharing your stories with: the obsessiveness, the entitlement, the disregard for boundaries, the penchant for making everything about sex. Worse, gay sex, as unspeakably dirty as it’s hilarious. Be warned, writers: if you make it big, your stories will inevitably become a free-for-all at the mercy of those people. A worse fate than even George R. R. Martin could wish on his own characters.

I’m used to seeing the world of fanfiction belittled and disparaged, of course, and I’m the first to admit that the community is often its own worst enemy. But for some reason it still hurt a little to sit in class and listen to people I’ve come to like and respect during these past few months buy into every bad stereotype associated with the form. Not because I felt called out (though yes, I do write fanfiction from time to time, and I happen to quite enjoy reading it too), but because of the underlying assumptions that 1. something that’s not 100% original cannot be art, it’s a violence in fact, especially if it twists someone else’s creation into something it was never meant to be (in this case, queer representation); and 2. there’s something wrong with creating exclusively out of love, without ever expecting to be paid for it. And I have Strong Opinions on that.

So let’s talk about fanfiction.

Actually, scratch that, let’s talk about my favorite subject – yours truly. As you may have gathered by now, I love fanfiction. A whole fangirly lot. My gateway drug into it was my obsession with Lost about 10 years ago and its pesky habit of offing every character I was foolish enough to get attached to. But lo! Someone was keeping them alive through their stories! I felt blessed. I got to spend more time in a world I loved, and I stopped flirting with the idea of giving up on the show every time another character I liked bit the dust. Everybody won.

Even more than as a fan, though, I appreciated the world of possibilities that fanfiction opened up to me as a non-native speaker. I come from a small town in the north of Italy; the access I had to foreign books in their original language was limited, and if I wanted to read something in English I’d have to spend quite a lot of money on one of the very few novels (usually chunky airport bookshop thrillers or housewife romances – not exactly my preferred genres) that shared a single shelf in the bookstore with German, French, Spanish titles. But fanfiction was free, accessible, and there was so much of it. If I didn’t like a story, all I needed to do was move on to the next. Suddenly there was an infinite library of engaging stories to help me make my English better. True, they didn’t all read like a published novel would – there’s a lot of unpolished, error-plagued, stream-of-consciousness-y material out there. But there are also so, so many beautifully written works, and believe me, even for a non-native speaker it’s very easy to spot the difference.

Fanfiction also gave me the chance and motivation to practice my English writing in a way school never could have done. I’ve been writing my own stories since I could hold a pen, but I didn’t dare write in English until I was a fanfiction-loving teenager. It was a marketing decision, really – my first foray into writing fanfiction was for a fandom so small that I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’m the only Italian representative, so if I wanted any kind of feedback on my work I’d have to suck it up and try my hand at writing in a language that didn’t come natural to me. I would never argue that the feedback I got on my works made me a better writer – contrary to popular opinion, the fanfiction community is made up of the nicest, most supportive people, and alas, you’ll never get a comment on everything you did wrong with your structure or even just pointing out common grammar mistakes from them (though I was lucky enough to have someone explain to me how dialogue punctuation works differently in English than in Italian, so I guess something can be learned even from the Internet). It did motivate me to keep writing, though, and that made me a better writer. If you think I’m being too dramatic, dishing out this monster of a post nobody asked for just to declare my eternal devotion to fanfiction, it’s because it’s personal to me. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been told that I write in English as well as native speakers, and fanfiction is a big part of why that’s true. I doubt I would even be in this course if it wasn’t for it.

And then, of course, there’s the gay thing. I’m not going to argue about how heteronormativity sucks and representation matters because I’m sure everyone’s as sick of talking about it as I am, but please try to understand how it felt for a gay person like me, used to be depicted in media as a plot device or token secondary-character representation if at all, to be able to step into a world where queerness was the default for once. Where queer protagonists had meaningful queer love stories and queer friends and got to save the world from the Apocalypse too. Or to fight the Empire or go to Hogwarts or everything else fictional straight people have had a right to do since the dawn of storytelling in addition to romancing the hottie of their choice. I’m not asking you to feel as passionately about it, of course, but (especially if you’re straight) you might try and empathize the next time you think a fanart of two boys kissing is something deserving of your amused contempt.

I hope I’m not coming across as the person that screams “homophobe” at everyone who disagrees with her because I guarantee that’s not what I’m trying to do here, but I think the general distaste for slash says a lot about the way our society sees heterosexual relationships as love and homosexual relationships as sex. Yes, there’s a lot of gay porn in the world of fanfiction. But you know what you’re most likely to find? Romance. Not in the saucy literary sense of the word, but in its simpler, most literal acceptation. Fanfiction is just one more way for humans to express themselves, after all, and love has always been front and center in our art. Love, not sex – even if it’s gay. In fact, explicit material doesn’t even make up the majority of what you’ll find on a fanfiction website. Don’t worry, I don’t want anyone to taint their souls by visiting one of those dens of iniquity so I pulled some stats myself. Here’s the number of works for each rating in three of the most popular fandoms on Archive Of Our Own, the current go-to website for the fanfiction community (sorry Fanfiction.net) – Harry Potter, Supernatural and the Marvel Cinematic Universe as of 9/3/2019:

Even counting both Mature and Explicit works as straight-up porn (which I don’t think is quite fair, but that’s a discussion for another day), they only make up less than 1/3 of the material. Kinda disappointing, for a medium that’s supposed to be all about filthy graphic gay sex. Imagine if only one in three musicals actually featured singing and dancing, or superheroes weren’t in the majority of superhero movies. They’re lucky fanfiction is shared for free, or I’d be screaming for my money back.

Maybe I’ve just been brainwashed by SJWs, though, and this has nothing to do with my being an immigrant or a lesbian. Maybe my inability to see what’s so bad about appropriating someone else’s intellectual property for your own amusement is a cultural thing. I apologize – as mentioned, I’m Italian, and we all know Ancient Roman culture was basically just a ripoff of everything those inventive Greeks came up with. It’s in our blood. Hell, our 2€ coin, the biggest, has the face of Dante Alighieri on it, a writer most famous for having written 14.000+ verses of self-insert real-person-fic in which the girl he fancied as a teenager, his favorite author, and God himself all fall over themselves to tell him how awesome he is and he gets to prophesy an eternity in Hell for his political enemies. Talk about wish-fulfilling entitlement. Not to mention all those creatively arid Renaissance “artists” celebrated for stealing characters from the Bible and Greek mythology (seriously, the fact that Greece hasn’t unleashed an army of lawyers on us yet is nothing short of a miracle) and putting them in their cheesy paintings. Other countries can rely on a much stronger moral backbone and endless imagination – I’m sure Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, those creative geniuses at Disney and countless others never had to resort to something as cheap and despicable as borrowing other people’s characters to tell the stories they wanted to tell.

Either way, I can’t help it – I see the prospect of creating something that will resonate with people so strongly that they’ll make it a part of themselves, that it’ll compel them to make more art, to reach out and connect with other fans, as something incredibly beautiful rather than scary. Maybe this is my usual naiveté speaking, and I will come to eat my words. It’s certainly disturbing that a bunch of entitled fans bullied the Mass Effect developers into changing the series’ ending, and sending actors explicit fanart of themselves is straight-up harassment, but is fanfiction really the problem here? Or is it social network culture, with its power to destroy all barriers and foster hive mind? To give resentment a platform to spread and be heard? I promise that the average fanfiction writer wouldn’t campaign to get an ending changed. They’d just roll up their sleeves and write a better one themselves.

[quilloftheclouds]

About the Writer Tag

I’ve been tagged in this an overly ridiculous amount. That’s just because I waited way too long to reply to it. Clearly, I am a tag game dragon.

Tagged by @alternativeforensicscientist, @shadows-on-everkin, @igotablankpage, @understanding-not-understood, @oradall, @multimousenette, @astro-writing, @sundaynightnovels, and @txintedsxint! Thanks, folks!

I shall taaggggg: @writersloth, @isanyonetoknow, @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric​, @roll-a-bi20, and @snickertoodles, as per request by this post! Feel free to do it or leave it as you like!

There appear to be two separate versions, but I may as well do them both at once! For those I tagged, you can certainly choose one or do both!

This is very long, so under the cut we go!

Version One

Relationship status: Single, sure, but currently not looking!

Favourite colour: Ohhhh too many, mate! TOO MANY. Typically I go for a deep greenish-blue, soft turquoise, or a dark forest green, for this!

Top three favorite ships: Uh. Um. I actually don’t ship characters that often, I mean. Gimli and Legolas is always a hilarious favourite, you don’t know who this is but Hawk and Cynn Numair from White Noise, uhhhhh and sure let’s go with Peridot and Amethyst because why not. (Be aware my ships can include just close platonic love, too!)

Lipstick or chapstick: I’m trying to get into the habit of wearing chapstick more often, since my lips crack easily bleh. So chapstick!

Last Song: Listening to right at this moment as I write this: Waving Through a Window from Evan Hansen and originally by Owl City

Last Movie: YOU SHOULD GO ALL WATCH SPIDERVERSE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY IT’S GORGEOUS.

Last Book: All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr! Holy heck this book was SO GOOD, and the way it writes a blind main character!!! (Reference for my new wip? Yeah.) IT’S SUCH A GOOD STORY. Bittersweet and dark at some parts, but I definitely recommend it!

Currently Reading: I haven’t really had time to pick up something new recently, but I’m looking to get back into reading again sometime soon!

Fanfiction: I’ve written Warrior Cats and Steven Universe more recently (but shared with no one, sorry ^^’). Fun fact, though! Most of the main characters in One Siren’s Soul (my current main wip) are based on SU ocs I made a long while ago! Also, when I was much younger, Storm Hawks and Hotwheels: Battle Force Five were my go to. Oh sweet mercy, please don’t ever make me look at those again. ouo

As for reading fanfiction, though: I don’t really, no. I have nothing against it, I just am very new to the online writer community and haven’t had the chance yet~

Annnnd Version Two

This one had a lot of different questions, but I’ll try and answer all of them~

Nickname: Quill!! The Quirkiest of Quills

Zodiac: Geminiminiminimini

Height: I actually have no idea now. 5′7 probably. Maybe.

Time: ADT

Favourite band/artist: Oh stars, come on, I like too manyyyyy. Right now I really like Dodie and The Score! Wow, how’s that for some contrast.

Song stuck in my head: Stay by The Score is super darn catchy and I’ve been playing it on repeat way too much lately. -u-

Last movie I saw: Answered above!

Last thing I googled: What timezone I was for the above question. ^^’

Other blogs: Only this one, so far!

Do I get asks: Whenever I reblog an ask game I typically get quite a few! Of course, I try to send out ones when I see others reblogging them, too! I get a lot of those positivity chain ones, as well, and although I love the premise of them, the work of going through and messaging others isn’t really that pleasant to me. I don’t really want to put that on others, either. Kinda taking a break from those at the mo~

Why this username: Stars, when I first made this blog I was freaking out over what name to choose because it had to be aesthetic and fitting and stuff. Quill because writing (and porcupine quills are culturally significant, as well!) and also FEATHERS are so pretty and fancy and stuff. Of the clouds because I’m a daydreamer! My head is always in the clouds! I’m also a weather nerd, and I know all the names of the different cloud types, and I love trying to predict the upcoming weather from the sky alone!

Following: 623. Is that a lot? I feel like that’s a lot. Huh.

Lucky number: 24!

What I’m wearing: My trilobite collection shirt and fluffy pajama bottoms because I’m going to bed soon. c;

Dream job: Probably a geologist? An environmental scientist? Something along those lines?

Dream trip: ICELAND HAS SUCH COOL GEOLOGY. Also any place in Scandinavia would likely be really cool!!

Favourite food: Carbonara with pasta made from scratch, parmesan cheese, and bits of actual bacon~ I made it with my Dad for my birthday!

Instruments I play: Mainly the violin and the piano! But I can also play the harmonica, the penny whistle, somewhat drums of varying types, kinda the oboe, and grass blades. What do you mean grass blades aren’t instruments?

Eye colour: Dark brown but according to one of my friends they look yellow in certain lighting. Hmm...

Hair colour: Last time I answered this I had brown hair with turquoise dyed tips! Now those tips are brilliantly vivid Chalcanthite blue. 

Aesthetic: Think way too energetic earth sciences nerd with a passion for learning everything and way too many hats and plants. I live on weird weather and obscure nature facts.

Languages I speak: I’m bilingual in English and Acadian French, and I’m learning ASL and a bit of Russian, too!

Most Iconic Song: Honestly, Take to the Sky by Owl City, is a song from my childhood that I just... absolutely loved too much.

Random fact: I’m currently working in the Historical Archives of my city! A few days ago I got to personally handle and transcribe documents from the late 1700s. SO COOL.

[emovirgil-sanders]

Summary: Virgil is a human who is interested in the supernatural. He researches and looks for supernatural beings, unaware that some of his closest friends are exactly what he’s looking for. His friends have to keep him from learning their secrets.

Warnings: mentions of hunting, haunted/abandoned things, demons, angels, religion, ghosts, vampires, werewolves. Lmk if I need to add more.

Word Count: 945

A/N: I don’t have a title for this yet. It’s just a fic idea that I’ve had it my docs for a while now and I wanted to get out there. I am planning on writing actual, long chapters to this, but I don’t know when I’ll get around to it. Also, the first half of this was written months ago, so if there’s an obvious style change about half way through, you know why. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ PROLOGUE ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Virgil Hathaway yawned as he typed away on his laptop, a steaming mug of coffee sitting on the table beside him. He was currently working on an English exam, but that wasn’t what he’d be working on all night. It was only around 9:30 and he was waiting for his three best friends to show up so he could take them hunting.

And, no, it’s not the usual gun or bow and arrow hunting with bunnies or deer. No, Virgil hunted for something very different. He hunted for the things that crept around in dark corners. Things that were only heard about in stories and mysterious encounters.

Yes, Virgil hunted the supernatural. Demons, vampires, werewolves, sometimes even delving into Angels- despite not being religious at all. He was curious and he most definitely believed that all of them existed.

Virgil swore he even saw a ghost once.

But, we don’t need to get into that right now, as Virgil was shaken from his half slumber-half daydream mood by a loud knocking on his door. He sighed and shut his laptop before standing up to head to the door, picking up his mug of coffee.

Virgil peered out his door at three people. Logan Schmidt, a tall German enby who was currently wearing their usual dress shirt, tie, and jeans, along with a leather jacket. Roman Belmont, a French man come to study in the United States, though he hardly did any studying. He sported a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a red Letterman jacket with white sleeves. And last but not least, Patton Foster, a short English student who always did his best to make people happy. He wore a frilly, sky blue blouse with a pair of grey leggings and sneakers.

“Hello, Virgil. Are you ready to go yet?” Logan asks, taking in Virgil’s look. His long hair was messy and he wore a pair of black jeans, a ripped purple shirt, and his signature black jacket. His feet were bare, minus a pair of black Death Note socks.

“Almost. I just finished my English paper. Let me grab my stuff.” Virgil says, turning to quickly run to his bedroom and grab his book bag of supplies, his lucky charm necklace, and a pair of black tennis shoes. He shoved his laptop into his book bag and slipped his necklace around his neck before pulling his book bag on. He grabbed his keys and phone as he headed back to the door, stepping outside and locking the door after himself.

“So, where are we headed tonight, kiddo?” Patton asks, giddy with excitement and curiosity. Logan gave him a side glance before looking to the book they had been holding in their hands.

“An old abandoned warehouse.” Virgil says as he slips one strap of his backpack off so he could turn and retrieve his notebook from inside. “It has records of a bunch of teenage suicides in the 1970’s, but the more interesting story is of a woman who left her baby in there. Some say that you can still hear the baby crying.” Virgil explains, flipping open to his current notes on the warehouse. He glanced up at his friends, noticing Patton’s confusion and Roman and Logan’s shared worried looks.

“Okay, yeah, I know it’s not the usual vampires and demons, but ghosts are cool too! I’ve already seen one, you know-” Virgil starts to go into the story he’s already told them about fifteen times now.

“We already know this, Ever Dark and Dreary,” Roman spoke up, giving Virgil one of his very poetic nicknames. Virgil rolled his eyes and went back to reading his notes.

“Well, it also has had several cult sacrifices around the area, so maybe we can find a demon around there,” Virgil says after a moment, stuffing his notes back into his book bag and looking ahead as he walked. Patton shared a look with Logan, who just sighed and shook their head.

It took them about an hour to reach the warehouse and by then the sun was close to setting.

Logan shivered as a breeze blew through, ruffling their feathers that were currently concealed, but still very much there. They gazed at the group that had trailed ahead of them a little bit. Patton was talking with Virgil and pointing at something in the notes that Virgil had out. Roman was off in his own world, staring up at the trees around them. He had plugged his headphones in around five minutes into the trip and completely zoned out, except for the occasional bouts of singing. Logan had been studying on their phone, having brought a portable charger in case the battery ran low on it.

Logan looked up when they reached the warehouse. The building was tall, but clearly worn. Graffiti covered the sides and most, if not all, of the windows were broken. Trash littered the entire area- from bottles and cans to huge pieces of metal and wood. Vines and plants grew out of cracks, moss covering a lot of surface as well.

Virgil smiled proudly as he looked around the area before pulling out a clean notebook to document his time here. This was exactly what he wanted. Patton looked nervously around, obviously acting a little scared of the place. Even though both him and Logan knew he didn’t need to put up the act for Virgil. Roman was already exploring the place, climbing across scrap metal and trying to get into areas he really shouldn’t be in. Logan held back for a moment.

Something felt off. Logan could feel it and they did not like it. Something was going to happen here tonight and it wasn’t going to be good.

[homosociallyyours]

getting to know me

I was tagged by @sukiandmuzzy, @always-aqua, and @jlf23tumble in this 21 question cavalcade--thank y’all so much!! These dumb things are my fave bc I’m basic af. So. here we go. the rules are...answer the questions. that’s all. i’ll tag people too, but not a set number, so if you love these things and wanna do this one, DO IT!!!

Nickname: Meggles, Beene, Beenie, Beener, Dottie, Milton. All but the last are variations of my name (middle, last, first, in that order). The last one came from my ex, who actually got it from Winter’s Bone, because it was the book he was reading when we got together. There’s a scene where the main character is naming all the Miltons in her family. Somehow it got into his head, and then it just stuck. I left it in Austin, but I still have a fondness for it.  

Zodiac: Taurus sun/moon/mercury, Gemini rising, Venus in Cancer, Mars in Virgo. into it, obviously. I’m totally that guy who has gotten everyone in the office to do their natal chart and who follows 807 astrology meme accounts. 

Height: 5′5″

Last movie I saw: I haven’t seen a movie in a theater for a hot second. That was the new Fantastic Beasts. At home, I rewatched Elf on Christmas Eve. 

Last thing I googled: “williams console heater” -- we’re getting a new heater this week, and that’s the brand/model. I was showing my housemate. 

Favorite musicians: The Indigo Girls, One Direction, Dolly Parton, Gretchen Phillips.  

Song stuck in my head: She’s a Rainbow

Other blogs: @ohharrymylove is where I put 1d masterposts and history things as well as stunty stuff i don’t want on my main, @darlingdomesticbatch is the now defunct cumberbatch hey girl meme account i used to co-run with a friend, @heycheeselady is my oft-neglected cheese blog, and then there are 2 more blogs that are pretty empty but that i am kinda saving for a rainy day-- dirtbagharrie and sassymartinfreeman. i am also co-mod on a hypnokink blog with a pal but i never do anything with it, i’m sorry chu <3

Do I get asks: sometimes. I usually get a couple with ask games, and then every few weeks a random anon saying/asking something. it’s rare for me to get hate, though you wouldn’t know anyway bc i just delete it :) 

Following: 1024...oops. i got it down a while ago, but tbh i enjoy following lots of people and am very gregarious. if you wanna be mutuals with me just send me a couple of asks or messages and i’ll probably add you back unless you reaaaally don’t tag and you post stuff i would normally blacklist (reylo or zombies)

Amount of sleep: 6-12. rebel rebel. 

Lucky number: 5

What I’m wearing: lularoe leggings (listen they’re soft i can’t help it) and an old hoodie that i had kinda forgotten about but that i’m pleased to rediscover

Dream job: rn it’s being paid to exist. if i could make enough money to live just by being alive, it would take away a huge strain from my life. In general, though, my dream job is to be part of a team that goes into homes and schools and teaches cheese classes: developing palates and vocabularies, showing people how to care for cheese, providing knowledge and cool facts about cheesestuffs. I also kinda want this as a youtube channel. i do sorta have the goal to do that this year if i’m able. 

Dream trip: I usually say France and other parts of Europe for a very specific cheese trip, but right now it’s one of these 2 places--either Hawaii with @statementlou for 2 weeks of being relaxed cryptid gal pals or 2 weeks in Tacoma with @pompomoffinland and his spouse and their kiddo for some superb cuddles and flaming rainbows. 

Favorite food: I am contractually obligated to say cheese. It’s definitely the food I’m most passionate about, and I cannot think of my life without it in some form. 

Play any instruments: I know how to strum a ukulele. I’m not great, but I am passable if nobody else knows how to play. I can also play the spoons decently and am a singer. 

Languages: English, Spanish (un poco), the asl alphabet and some random words (coffee! tree! dance! I got a book from the library when I was 11 and have good retention). I also know the greek alphabet, so I can struggle through saying something that’s written in greek, but then have...no idea what it means. unless it’s obvious. Oh also I speak cheese (obviously), which means I can pronounce French town names sometimes and not sound like the uncultured American I truly am. 

Favorite songs: “Three County Highway” (Indigo Girls); “Fireproof” (1D); “Ain’t Life a Brook” (Ferron); “The Weakness in Me” (Joan Armatrading); “The Luckiest” (Ben Folds); “I Spent My Last $10 on Birth Control and Beer” (Two Nice Girls); “She’s Amazing” (Team Dresch); “1950″ (King Princess) to name a few. 

Random fact: “grassfed” is an empty term that can mean anything from cows grazing on fresh pasture year round to cows being kept in pens and fed a fermented grass product called silage that’s actually not much better for their stomachs than grain. so if you care about animals being pastured, know where your cheese is coming from and be prepared to pay a premium--grazing cattle is not cheap for a lot of reasons

Random fact about me? I didn’t date AT ALL in high school, partly because no boy ever expressed even the faintest interest and partly because I also wasn’t interested and honestly partly because I was actually queer and just didn’t have words for it. No regrets, tho, dang. I kinda think nobody should date in high school. UNPOPULAR OPINION, i know. 

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: pale skin spilling out from the top of a cotton dress; firm jersey milk cheese wrapped in rustic brown cheese paper; a bouquet of ranunculus; milky tea in a sturdy ceramic mug; brown sugar cubes; tangled seaweeds and algaes drying on the beach; a stack of fat quarters in various solid and patterned pinks; a photograph of a single white cloud against a bright blue sky with just the edge of tree in frame; hugging a tree

hmmmm I’ll tag... @captiveharts @deaflock @livingrepetition @billiethepoet @thearrowsheart @harryincamp @harryisapackersfan @pennywhistle @la-paritalienne and @goldbootsandvans

no pressure, pals! 

[sampagnereads]

Okay, so! This weekend, aka January 26 and 27 2019, there will be another round of the 24in48 readathon, which may be my favourite readathon, to be completely honest. Last time I participated, I succeeded in reading for a total of 24 hours within the weekend, and it felt thoroughly satisfying! Therefore, now that it’s back around, there’s no doubt in my mid that I need to participate. This time, I’m also aiming on succeeding, and therefore built myself quite an ambitious tbr pile. Honestly, it’s not super realistic, but it’s to give me a chance to pick up what I’m in the mood to read and switch between books if I’m not in the mood for the one I’m currently reading.

Under the “read more”, you’ll find the books I’m planning on reading for this readathon!

01. THE NAME OF THE WIND, BY PATRICK ROTHFUSS.

This book is a high fantasy novel that follows an innkeeper who tells his life story to a chronicler. This innkeeper was no ordinary person, though, and did quite a lot of remarkable things, which makes the story quite interesting.

I gave my dad this book in French (he doesn’t read in English) last Christmas, and he adored it. Since then, he’s been pressuring me to read it as well (though I’ll be reading it in English), because he wants someone with whom he can talk to about the book and who can suffer with him whilst waiting for the third book to come out. I’ve already started this one and am 185 pages in, so I’m pretty certain I’ll be finishing it this weekend. According to Bookly, I have 8 hours left of reading for The Name of the Wind, so yes. It might take up a third of my reading time this weekend, if I don’t feel like switching books too often, but it’ll be worth it, I think. So far, I’m really enjoying it.

02. CROWN OF FEATHERS, BY NICKI PAU PRETO. 

This book follows a girl who disguises herself as a boy to become a phoenix rider in a world that’s been changed ever since a conflict between two sisters. It also follows her as her sister, who had betrayed her trust, comes back and reveals some very troubling things to her. That’s all I know so far, and that’s all I want to know, since I prefer going into those books without knowing too much. 

I got an eArc of this, and I consider myself extremely lucky. I already started this book and am 55 pages in at the moment, and it’s giving me strong Eragon vibes, but better (in my opinion - and that’s saying a lot because Eragon is the book that got me into reading), in a really good way. So far, it’s really well written and captivating, and though I have some difficulty reading eArcs because I can’t transfer them to my eReader, and reading them on my computer can be difficult, I do think I’ll be able to finish this book within the readathon this weekend. Which is good, because the book is coming out on February 12th.

03. PRINCE CASPIAN, BY C.S. LEWIS. 

Prince Caspian is the second book, or fourth depending on whether you look at it in order of publication or chronologically, in the Chronicles of Narnia. I don’t really want to tell you what it’s about, since it’s not the first book in the series, but I remember it being one of my favourite Narnia books when I read it for the first time as a child!

I received the Barnes & Noble Leatherbound Classics edition of The Chronicles of Narnia this Christmas, which I’ve been wishing for for YEARS. I’m honestly over the moon with it, and my goal was to read all of it in January. Now, I’m not sure that’s going to happen, but I want to at least try. Therefore, I’ll try to read at least one of the Narnia books during the readathon, and I chose Prince Caspian since it’s the next one I need to read chronologically. I seriously love Narnia, and I know I’ll most likely fly through this book.

04. GIRLS MADE OF SNOW AND GLASS, BY MELISSA BASHARDOUST. 

Girls Made of Snow and Glass is, from what I’ve heard, a Snow White retelling that focuses on the relationships between women. It mainly follows a girl and her step-mother, and how things that happen around them affects them, but also the girl and another girl she falls in love with. 

This is Kat’s favourite book, and since she and I tend to like the same books, I’m highly anticipating reading this one! Also, I was supposed to finish this in December for a book club I’m hosting, so I really need to finish this ASAP. Plus, I really think I’m going to love this. I read the first chapter already, and it really caught my attention, which makes me believe I’m going to fly through this. And since I was supposed to finish this in December, I AT LEAST want to finish it in January.

05. THE GILDED WOLVES, BY ROSHANI CHOKSHI.

This is a novel that takes place in Paris in the 19th century, and follows a group of young adults (teenagers, I think) who go on a quest to find a lost artefact. It’s apparently super diverse and very well written, and I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about it.

I’m going to receive this book in a book box I’ll be opening tonight, and I honestly could not be any more excited about it. I’ve been highly anticipating this book since 2017, and I can’t believe that later on today, I’ll actually have the chance to get my hands on it. Everything about this book calls out to me, from the setting to the era to the characters to the plot, and I truly believe I’m going to love it with my whole entire heart. 

So, yes! There are all the books I’m planning on reading during the readathon! Some others I might get to if I’m not in the mood for those are the latest Aurélie Laflamme novel, as well as the rest of the Chronicles of Narnia.