#i don’t wanna think about matt perceiving me at all

[mattscoquette]

on todays episode of “what text am i gonna receive today from @55sturn that will make me bash my head into the wall”

[masschase]

Rowvember Day 7: Attractive

I could have done a few things with this prompt, but honestly? I wanted to talk about a section of Out of Time that's one of my absolute favourite scenes ever. It's the beginning/end sections of Chapter 14: Smashed(non-smut chapter but only the beginning and end will make sense out of context), which refers to both the slang for drunk and illusions being shattered.

I remember writing it around this time this year. It was definitely November, because it's set on Christmas Eve, and I remember that being the following month and then when it was actually Christmas I was reading it back and smiling to myself.

I never intended Matt and Casey to be super close before the events of my fic, not in the first draft. But the more I started writing these little excerpts of their life in the two years after SRIV, the closer they became as friends. I began to see the fanfic concept as way more than 'meddling with the past changing things' and way more about a deep requited love that Casey doesn't admit to herself is there and Matt doesn't know is requited.

I also didn't intend for them to have had anything definitively non-platonic happen between them except for the one off "romance" during SRIV. But this scene was pivotal for establishing that Casey switches from being almost completely clueless about her feelings to actively in denial.

To summarise the setting, the Saints have been watching Christmas movies and drinking. The final few have just gone to bed aside from Matt and Casey who are side-by-side in one of the egg chairs, and Kinzie who's passed out in one.

They have their usual banter and decide since they didn't manage to sneak away for Nyte Blayde night as planned (Christmas Eve 2021 was a Friday) they'll watch it on the projector instead of the couch. Casey decides to go back to the couch to get her Christmas pyjamas and a bag of chips she's been saving there.

She changes at the couch, but is surprised by what she finds in the wall above it, pulling the item out. At first when she returns, Matt is focused on a combination of getting Nyte Blayde to work and slightly making fun of the ridiculous outfit.

“Wait, stop trying to distract me and answer my question.” she reminded him, waving the offending item. He seemed to look properly this time. “Oh that...” he looked at her curiously. “I think it’s mistletoe. Do you um... need that one explained?” he asked, sounding amused. “Do I need the custom explained? No; Shaundi told me. Do I wanna know what it’s doing above our couch? Fuckin’ yes.” she clarified. His nonchalance to this whole thing was starting to bother her. He frowned. “Oh so it’s OUR couch now but when it needs all the crisp and popcorn crumbs cleaned out, suddenly it’s MY couch.” he said with a smirk, still evading the question. “Matt, why did you put this where we were gonna sit tonight?” she rephrased, done with his distractions. “What? I didn’t!” he protested. “...What?” He laughed. “You think I put it there?” “Well yeah... I guess I... assumed...” He shook his head at her. “Don’t you think if that were the case I’d have insisted on us watching there?” he asked, almost suggestively. He had a point. “Huh.” she replied thoughtfully, returning to sit beside him. “You know, there are free chairs now...” he said gently. “Although...” his hand brushed against the side of her thigh lightly. “You’re very soft...” She ignored him, looking down at the mistletoe in her hands. “Who d’ya think put this above our couch?” “I presume... one of the others messing about.”. He shrugged. “Does it matter?” “Uh... I guess not.” she replied, turning it over in thoughtfully, wondering for the first time how the rest of the gang might perceive their Friday nights together. “You’re sure it wasn’t you?” she asked again. There was a pause. “Why, did you want it to be me?” she heard him tease. “Shut up.” she smirked, looking over at him. His face was softened by the glow of the Christmas lights and the fireplace. His blue eyes sparkled through the haze of eggnog and mulled wine and brandy. Fuck. Her smirk fell right off her face. “Are you alright?” he asked gently, his expression turning from playful to mildly concerned. It was the booze right? It had to be the booze, and the lights, and the festive cheer or some shit. She knew objectively that her Matty was hot, or she wouldn’t have fucked him that one time. But he had no right looking all... beautiful like that. “Matty... I uh...” she heard her words slip out, disembodied. If there was an end to that sentence, she certainly didn’t know what it was. She picked up the mistletoe and held it above her head, smirking at him like it was some sort of challenge. God, what was she doing? His eyebrows raised in alarm. Then he smiled, drew closer and placed a kiss on her cheek, but he hovered there for a very long moment. Curious. Unsatisfied. “EWW!” she suddenly heard Kinzie shout, making them both jump. Her arm dropped back to her side as she peered forward for her, but it seemed she was still in her own chair. “You two let me watch Nyte Blayde? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

So yeah, this is the night Casey kind of realises she's very attracted to Matt, which turns into the wanting to fuck him again at New Years, though that actually becomes a very bittersweet kiss instead. From there they have other near misses, until the fanfic begins and kind of drags her feelings out in a few different ways.

That mistletoe and the resultant spacesuit left on the couch caused all sorts of problems on Christmas Day, believe me!

As for who planted the mistletoe... well that might just come up on a different day 🤭

[hournites]

Hournite Week Day 1: Light vs Dark - Hoax

Summary: When a distraught Beth visits the Farmlands one late night, Rick offers his support.

(read on ao3)

~.~

At the end of the day, Rick prefers to sit alone. There’s a chair in the living room, the room he used to play and sit with his parents in on the couch. The room he’d opened gifts on birthdays, watched television with his mother and sat by the window, looking out at the field for his father to come home. Matt has claimed that couch now. Rick doesn’t care to use it except when he’s forced to clean. It’s stained with beer and food that’s fallen through the cushions. His uncle brings women there, rarely ever the same woman twice. Rick knows it’s dirty and defiled and as beat up as the rest of the furniture Matt touches.

Rick prefers his father’s old recliner, shoved in the back dark corner where he can get the best bandwidth for the internet connection. Behind his uncle, it’s almost like Matt forgets Rick’s there. He studied those chemistry textbooks there, half-assed homework there, and fell asleep on rare occasions too. Outside of locking himself in his upstairs bedroom, it’s the closest to being invisible Rick gets. The closest to peacefulness he knows.

It’s on a Saturday night like that the doorbell rings, interrupting the tense quiet they’ve carved to share space.

Matt lifts his head from his phone, half-slouched on the couch, disgruntled when it rings twice more. “The hell?”

Rick stares ahead at the front door from the hall, startled by the foreign noise. “Um.”

Nobody uses the doorbell. They don’t even get visitors. The mailman drops parcels and bills off at the mailbox half a mile down the dirt walkway.

He looks at Matt.

“Ignore it.”

Rick stands. “It’s probably some real estate agent or something.” He’d notice a lot of the property nearby has gone up for sale. If he said they weren’t interested in buying, then they’d know not to come again.

“Exactly. So, leave it be.”

But the doorbell rings again just as he turns to walk away. Rick makes a move to the door.

“I said ignore it.”

He rolls his eyes. Well, now Rick was definitely going to do it. He glares at his uncle over his shoulder, twisting his wrist to unlock the door. “You can’t just tell me to—”

The door swings open and his eyes flit forward to address the figure at the arch. “Beth?”

Dressed in a dark purple cardigan and light-wash jeans, she’s clenching the rubber bars of her bike, fingers scrunched up like she wants to scratch it off with her nails. Like she’s moments from ripping it off entirely. She’s holding herself too stiff, head raised and chin jutted out. Rigid like she can’t move, twitching like she wants to fight. The irises of her big brown eyes skip from left to right, pleading.

“Can I stay here with you?”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Please —” she begs, voice cracking. “Can I stay over with you?”  

“Tell them to fuck off!”      

Rick glances back awkwardly over his shoulder, wary of his uncle, not sure what to say.

“Rick, please—”

Rick steps outside and shuts the front door behind him.

“Why are you here? Are you okay?”

Beth drops the handles and her bicycle falls to the porch with a clatter.

His eyes widen when she lurches forward, catapulting across the creaking wood. Rick grunts softly at the force of her hug. He stumbles back with her, wrapping her arms tight as they stand in the doorway.

Her body shudders and whatever storm she had been withholding inside releases with a bursting sob. Beth sniffles into his shirt, the angle of her round glasses pressed into his ribs. Rick looks down, at a loss.

“Hey,” he rasps out, taking a firm grasp at her shaking shoulder. “Beth. Okay. Shh. Jesus, don’t cry.” Matt’s going to hear this. He’s going to hear and come and see and make this a mess. The thought makes his blood run cold. Rick peels her off. It hurts and is jarring and she seizes at the rip of comfort he just tore away that he knows she needs, but hair stands up on his arms, hyper-cognizant. It’s not that he thinks Matt will—Rick doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he’d do and that’s been why he’s avoided letting the girls show up here.

“This can’t happen right now.” The last thing Rick wants is for Matt to find out about the hourglass or the JSA. The girls are his tether to that and he can’t risk Matt taking advantage or robbing anything he has no right to. Again.

Beth recoils. He’s quick to pull her back in, panicked. It’s not that he doesn’t care.  “I didn’t say that right. We just can’t do this here.”

“What do you mean?”

He leads her off the porch by the hand to around the side of the house. Rick can tell she’s biting down her lip to stop from asking another question, but it becomes clear where they’re going when they reach his parked car and she relaxes. He hops onto the hood and makes room for her. Beth looks reluctant, but joins him there, still brushing close, wanting him near.

“You don’t want me to stay?”

“It’s not that,” he promises. “I just don’t know how he’s going to react.”

Her wet eyelashes get stuck against the wall of her thick lenses. “Your uncle Matt?”

“I’ve told you. He’s not a good person.” His tone edges on sharp. “There’s a reason why I don’t want—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting down his belligerence. Rick takes a breath. This isn’t going to help her. “He doesn’t treat women right.” He pauses, wanting to say more, but can’t bring himself to say the words.

She stares at him. “You think he’s a racist.”

“Well.” That too.

Beth slides off the car.

“Beth. Wait.”

She rubs at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, turning back in the direction they came.

“I’ll go home.”

“Tell me what’s wrong first.” He follows her along the muddy grass. “You wanted to stay overnight.”

“You don’t want me here!” She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut. “This was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve asked first.”

“Beth, that’s not true. I do. I always want to see you. It’s just...” His implication is obvious, but it came out worse than he’d meant it to. The point is, she could’ve gone to anyone else. She could’ve gone to see Courtney.

She should’ve called Pat. They trust Pat. He’s safe and is a good problem solver as annoying as his methods are.

She came here instead. And yeah, he does wish she could’ve texted or called, but the fact she’s now thinking it was wrong seems strange.

Rick knew something wasn’t right the moment he saw her in front of his doorstep, but now he’s very worried as he hears her curse herself and blinking back more tears. Beth has always been so confident in herself, regardless of how others perceived her. He had never heard Beth call herself dumb or pathetic or stupid. He didn’t believe she had ever seen herself that way either. Why would she?

According to their high school, she might be a loser, but there had never been a day she wasn’t unapologetically proud to be herself. There’s nothing wrong with being outspoken or bold or self-assured, trusting or smart and self-sufficient. She’s all of the above and maybe that had intimidated or even annoyed Rick sitting across from her to overhear, but it didn’t make it less true.

Doesn’t Beth know that?

She looks at him again. “I thought we were—”

“We are.”

She lets out another long breath and swallows.

“We are. It’s not that I don’t… My uncle is a real asshole. That’s it.” He grabs her hand. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She lifts a helpless shoulder, glancing back at the mustang. She lingers on it like she wants to go in.

“What?” Rick asks.

“Do you wanna leave Blue Valley with me?”

She doesn’t mean a road trip. The question throws him. Not because it’s terrifying to hear that from her. Though it fucking is. It throws him because he’s had the same thought pass through his mind at night a thousand times. A thousand times a week. Everything could be better, away. Without the memories or the roads or the trees and the people who’ve made this town an awful place. But their perspectives on Blue Valley had always been Rick and Beth’s stark difference. What happened to her unwavering devotion to caring about the town and everyone in it? It’s what Rick liked so much. The light from within her pushed her bravery, eradicating her limits.

“Beth,” he speaks carefully. “Why are you running away?”

Beth turns her face towards the farms, letting go of his hand. “I love my parents so much.”

Rick’s face softens. “I know.”

“No. They’ve been my inspiration my whole life. How can—I can’t fathom how…it’s all...”

“What are you talking about?”

Beth tugs her fingers into the sleeves of her cardigan crossed over her chest, refusing to meet his gaze, miserable. She takes so long to answer, but Rick can see the fight in her mind in the way she sticks her jaw. Whatever it is she’s torturing herself with it, Rick can feel it just by standing nearby. “Beth?”

“It’s the ISA, Rick. I didn’t want to believe it but it’s been them all along. My—” She chokes on her words.

Dread sinks to his gut. “Which one?”

“Both.” The blankness that shadows over her face, Rick has seen it before. The ghost of Yolanda’s detachedness after she was betrayed. The shattering shake in Henry’s voice moments before he was gone. “Chuck found out a while ago but I kept pushing it back and pushing it back because it wasn’t true? It wasn’t true and I couldn’t accept that until...They’re close with Richard Swift.”

He touches her arm, lets his hand slide down the expensive sweater to reach for her hand when she cries again.

“Can’t we just go?” When she asks Rick again, he understands. The slimmer of hope she’s threaded through her request. What it’s costing him not to say yes.  

“Come inside,” he whispers instead, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. It's a dead weight like a stone in his hand. It shouldn’t be like this. Beth shouldn’t be like this. She’s not okay. “You can stay.”

She shoots a nervous glance at the house. “I don’t want to if it’s a problem.”

“I’ll make sure it’s not a problem,” he cuts in, sharp.

Beth mutters something, but Rick doesn’t catch it. He jogs back to the front porch and bends over to pick up her bike and lock it in the shed.

He returns, awkwardly holding her school bag, leaning against the wall.

“Stay here,” Rick says, “I’ll come to get you.”

He goes back inside and stands in front of Matt.

“My friend is staying over.”

“You have friends?” Matt scrolls on his phone with a snort. When he realizes Rick isn’t joking, he glances up. “No.”

“I’m not asking.”

“I babysit enough after you—”

“Is that what you call it?” Rick snarks.

Matt’s eyes flash at him. They say Don’t test me.

Rick steps away. He won’t. The plan isn’t to piss him off. He wants Beth to survive the night here. “She’ll stay in my room and I’ll sleep on the floor or something. It’s just for today.”

To Rick’s horror, Matt leers. “She’ll stay in your room?”

“Don’t.” Rick makes it clear. “Don’t. Don’t talk to her. She’s upset enough. She doesn’t need you in her business.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m serious,” Rick says. The flippant way Matt goes back to his phone has him unnerved. If it wasn’t for the fact he has the hourglass tucked away in his room, he’d walk right out and drive Beth to Pat’s instead. It’s not worth it.

But Rick can take Matt on now. If that’s something he ever needs to do.

“What’s her name?”

Rick doesn’t even want to tell him. He turns around and brings Beth in.

She wipes at her face and sucks in her hurt, attempting and failing to gather her emotions. “Sorry, Mr. Harris. I’m—”

“—No.” Rick pushes her past the living room before she could even finish her sentence. “Nope.”

“Is that any way to speak to your father? ” Matt yells after him.

Rick rolls his eyes hard and shuts the door to his room pointedly.

Beth sits gingerly onto his unmade bed. “You could’ve at least let me introduce myself. I’m in his house.”

“This is not his house.”

“Oh.” Beth picks at his linty sheet. “Right.”

He waits as long as he can before he can’t help himself. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she mutters. Beth reaches into her bag for Chuck and hands him over. “It’s all there.” Next, she pulls out a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. “Sorry. Can I change?”

“Uh. Sure.” Rick moves. “Tell me when I can come back in.”

Rick leans against the wall, waiting, wondering what he should do. Chuck is in his hands, half-lit. The last time he learned the truth through green hue, his life had changed for good. Was this what it felt like for her?

The projection skittered across the off-white peeling walls.

James Chapel. The American Dream. Hired by Jordan Mahkent, January 2006. James Chapel, MBA Keynote Speaker - Geopolitical Realignment in the Pursuit of an American Dream. Funded by Richard Swift. The Theoretical Abnormalities of Frontal-Cortex Reconfiguration published by Blue Valley Medical Centre Press. Authored by Henry King Jr, Bridget Chapel et al. 2000. Scholarship funding provided by Swift Inc.

It is followed by grainy photographs of a tall slender woman in a blue and red polymer jumpsuit with the youthfulness of Beth’s face. The pixels dissolve away and return with one that resembles her father. There’s more evidence, hard core pictures. Records of Henry Jr’s faked autopsy. Medical records on Joey Zarick. Notes on the political numbers in William Zarick’s campaign.

“I’m sure this comes as a great shock.”

“How didn’t you know?” It feels ridiculous to hiss accusations at a piece of tech no matter how special. He does it anyway. The damage, it’s done. He has half the mind to smash Chuck against the floor. He doesn’t hate Chuck, he knows how important he is to Beth. It’s just the gratification Rick craves to break something that hurt her.

“A glitch in my system. The Gambler had scrambled their affiliation well. It’s not until I’ve reloaded my servers and Beth brought me into Dr. Chapel’s work office that she uncovered any peculiarities.”

“This is going to break her.”

“Bruise,” Chuck corrects. “Not break.”

Rick shuts it off when his door cracks open.

She stepped out looking as cozy as one could with red-rimmed eyes.

Rick tilts his head up from his crouched position in the hall, passing Chuck back to her. She hugs the goggles close.

“Where are you sleeping?” she asks. “I won’t let you on the floor.”

“I have a chair.”

“Where?”

“The living room?”

She considers it, peering down the stairs. “Isn’t that where your uncle passes out?”

“I can bring it up here.”

“We shared a bed at Pat’s cabin.”

“That was before…” Besides, Barbara was there checking in like every two hours.

“Rick,” Beth whispers. “I just want you near.”

~.~

She is near, nestled in his arms. The sheer closeness makes his heart jump, the solid feel of her body beside his. Beth trusts him, confides in him. Looks up at him when he hears her.

“I don’t believe they’d ever hurt me,” she says at last. Rick bites his tongue. Physically? No. Indirectly? He’s seen the way she’s vied for their attention. Idolized herself after their values. The dependency they’ve fastened to leech onto their ideals of transparency and complete openness from her side when they don’t return the favour. Some of their FaceTime calls at lunch had been flat-out weird. Rick assumed it was his irritability flaring out whenever they bothered to check in on her. What if it was surveillance?

Beth catches his hesitation and frowns. “I know what you’re thinking. My parents are different. I know they’re…on the wrong side but they’re not like Tigress and Sportsmaster.” She’s defending them. Naturally, and in spite of her grief. He squeezes her arm, unthinking.

“I didn’t think they were.”

She turns and pulls on the sheet, staring up at his ceiling. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“Ever since I found out, my mind always circles back to you.”

“Me?” Rick’s brows crease against his pillow. “Why?”

“I was wrong about you too. I thought you were this unfeeling aggressive person that sat next to me at lunch all those years because you were indifferent.” She glances at him. “That’s not true.”

“It was a little true.”

She ignores that, carrying on. “But I wanted to be wrong about you from the beginning so I fought against my feelings to prove myself right that night. And I was. There’s so much more to you.”

He props his elbow up to study her quietly.

“I thought if there was more to you, there has to be more to my mom and dad. I didn’t think they could just leave me in the dark. That’s why I didn’t say anything for so long.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

He knows that she knows they’ll be talking to Courtney and Yolanda and Pat soon. That the world as she knew it was gone now. For now, Rick listens, being there for her.

Beth might’ve been left in the dark, but she navigates well in it. Her heart and wisdom are a bright light in themselves. And she’s touched him with it, seared him with her brightness and truth in a way he can’t ignore. Beth lightened him in a way he’s only more drawn to. And if she loses it now, if it dims out of her, Rick swears he’ll find it. He’ll find it and bring it back out if he has to.

[deniigi]

its about 2am and i read your polycule stuff and now i have heart palpitations thank u very much. it has filled a void i've been silently hoping for but never expecting and if you happen to decide that you will play around in your own little verse space and do more of those drabbles, i will eat that shit up so quick

Oho

Well you are in luck anon.

Because I wrote a short one the other day for the discord.

The prompt was: Peter and Sam being smart together, which my brain translated as ‘Peter being an asshole trying to get information out of Sam and Sam smiling at him tenderly while telling him to get fucked.’ ❤

---------

Sam apparently hid his suit from everyone, which Peter found ironic given that it was an invisibility suit and he lived with a blind dude.

Matt said that the suit tasted like batteries which was not unlike the time he’d told Wade that he smelled like depression and cocaine.

That is to say: invasive and unhelpful.

Peter decided that he was going to get actual information out of Sam.

Sam loved him. He said so. Jokingly. Directly after they’d fooled around and Peter had offered him a coffee for the road. But like. It was still a declaration, no?

Shut up, Johnny, no one cares about your opinion.

The goal here was to wheedle information on the suit out of Sam.

 --

It didn’t come.

Sam laughed and told him Peter suit was made of hopes and prayers and then asked him about cacti.

He was a cunning and wily adversary, since that way definitely lay a Wikipedia time-suck that took up most of Peter’s afternoon.

 --

 Peter thought that maybe his charm could make it happen this time. He coaxed Sam east of Chinatown and wrapped arms around his waist and set his chin on his shoulder and told him to give up the suit.

It made Sam laugh really hard, which was a sign that the charm was working.

But then he leaned back into Peter’s grip and whispered in his ear that he’d give up his secrets only on pain of death, so keep going.

“You’re not that pretty,” he said tenderly, playing with the ends of Peter’s hair. “So I imagine we’ll be here for a while.”

Rude.

Rude as hell.

 --

 He tried to go through Hannah, but Hannah blinked at him and asked him who the fuck he was. Once he’d explained that he was her sibling’s kinda-boyfriend, she was so scandalized, she slammed the door and called Sam there and then to demand to know why he hadn’t told her of any kinda-boyfriends.

Hannah then emerged from the apartment again and pointed a finger at Peter and said, “Break his heart and I’ll break yours,” while Sam tried to talk her down on the phone.

So that was a bust.

 --

 He decided that he needed to think smarter, not harder here.

He located Blondie. He gave him the job of going into one of the baby Peters’ verses and locating a baby Sam to interrogate for information about the suit.

Blondie said he was on it.

He came back really quick, too, and then introduced Peter to a six-year-old.

Gwen laughed her ass off at him.

He told her to watch her back and then hunkered down to ask this teeny, tiny Sam what his feelings on invisibility were. Teeny, tiny Sam told him that this was a Pokémon move, which Peter already knew. So that wasn’t helpful at all.

He told Blondie thanks for his help, but no thanks.

 --

 “So it’s batteries,” Peter said, following Sam around the office.

Foggy loomed menacingly over the copy machine. Sam shooed him aside and took over standing by, collecting the papers it spat out.

“Everything runs on batteries, Peter,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“Right, so you’ve got an electric pulse going through. How do you distribute it evenly? What material are you using? Is it a superconductor? Are the batteries powering a cooling system?”

Sam blinked slowly at him and snatched another page off the copy machine.

“You wanna know what it is?” he asked.

“Yes. Desperately,” Peter said.

Sam waved him in close. Peter leaned in. Sam waved him in even closer.

He got right up against Peter’s ear.

“None of your fuckin’ business,” he said.

He pulled back and nabbed another paper with a smile.

“Any other questions?” he asked.

Uh. Dinner?

“Delighted to,” Sam said.

 --

 Mirrors.

It had to be mirrors.

“Yeah, man, he goes out as a human disco-ball every night and fights crime,” Johnny deadpanned. “That would totally work.”

Peter dumped him off the couch and took his place to lean over it and address MJ and Ned.

“Mirrors,” he said.

“Probably not,” Ned told him. “Invisibility is more likely achieved through manipulating light than mirrors, Peter.”

How? Explain.

“Oh, well, it’s probably a filtering system,” Ned said. “But it could be some kind of material that he’s made that uses the spectrum of light that we can’t perceive. It might be actually reflecting, now that you mention it. Kind of like a mirror, I guess.”

Peter stared.

“I didn’t pay attention in Wade’s torture class,” he said. “Do you think I should call him to re-book or?”

“Or you could just drop it?” MJ said. “Sam’s tech is Sam’s tech. Leave him alone and ask him about fuckin’ willow or something like you always do.”

Peter huffed.

“But science, Michelle,” he said.

Her gaze stayed flat.

 --

 “Okay, so I respect your defense of your ideas,” Peter said. “Like, a whole lot. But I just want to see it. Please?”

Sam lifted an eyebrow.

“Me in the suit,” he said.

“I’m dying for it,” Peter said.

“You just want to see me in the suit. That’s all,” Sam said.

Yes, pretty much.

“Okay, sit there. Don’t move.”

Holy shit.

Yes.

 --

 The suit was black with white stripes that went in some kind of pattern that Peter didn’t understand. He swore that they moved every time Sam did.

Sam held his hands out to the side.

“Suit,” he said.

“Hot,” Peter said. “Come here.”

“No, you’ll steal my trade secrets,” Sam sniffed. “You stay over there.”

Peter whined and made himself as sexy and charming as possible. He patted a leg seductively.

Sam’s mask was unreadable, but Peter saw him roll his eyes anyways.

“I hate you,” he said, coming over to sit on the designated thigh.

Yes. Science.

“Babe, you’re so sexy when you’re hiding intellectual property from me,” Peter crooned into his hair.

Sam leaned back against him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t call me ‘babe,’” he said sweetly.

“Or what?” Peter hummed.

Then blinked. Because he had no Sam.

O…kay?

No ‘babe.’ Message received. Where the fuck—

“Boo.”

He shrieked.

Sam laughed. Peter clutched at his chest.

“How did you do that?” he asked as Sam climbed over the couch and sweetly draped his legs over Peter’s.

Sam took off his mask and wiggled his black-gloved fingers.

“Magic,” he said. “Now you, sir, owe me dinner.”

 --

[cat-soda]

(please, oh please) just throw it all away

Near and Mello are two halves of a whole disaster waiting to happen.

Pairings: meronia, slight lindaxmatt

Wordcount: 760

Warnings for: hanahaki disease, hurt no comfort, angst

[AO3 Link]

The orphans of Wammy’s House whisper amongst themselves as Roger and Near return from the hospital; Roger is haggard-looking with bags under his eyes, and Near is pale and blinking slowly. Not an altogether unusual sight, but one that brings Linda barreling down the steps like some kind of freight train anyways.

Or, at least, that’s what it looks like from the second story window, where Mello is watching the proceedings.

“Did you want to go greet him?” asks Matt. His gaze is firmly set on his GameBoy, but his fingers are paused, hovering over the buttons.

Don’t you want to go greet him, Mello?

Linda wraps her arms around Near gingerly, not wanting to break whatever it is about him they’ve just fixed, and Near, sluggishly, brings his own up to pat her on the back. He says something to her and she pulls back, smiling. Near responds with a smile of his own, small but genuine. Present. Mello’s finger ta-ta-taps against the windowsill. “Why would I wanna do that?”

Matt finally glances over, eyes half-mast. “Gee, I wonder.”

Mello glares, but Matt’s already turned his focus back to his game, and when he looks back out the window, Near and the rest of the procession have reentered the building. He rolls his eyes, then sharply closes the blinds.

—

The thing is that Matt has this habit of encrypting and scrambling rumors and secrets behind his playful tone, behind the blue light shining off his goggles, his gardening-glove-clad hands. He keeps it all hidden away, except for the one thing that’s mostly an open secret by now: that Near and Mello are two halves of a whole disaster waiting to happen.

Linda puts it differently. She argues, instead —with dark pencil sketches and decisive, unflinching strokes of her paintbrush— that it’d look something more like a supernova, whatever it is that those two will make. They circle each other like stars. Duh, she adds.  

Stars don’t do that, though, he points out.

Ever heard of poetry? she shoots back, then goes flustered when Matt smiles at her like daybreak.

What is not a secret, nor a hushed rumor, nor whispered in the halls —rather, it’s openly gawked at, gossiped about, and “did you hear? did you hear?”— Pkah and Key and Rose and Fuel and, yes, Matt and Linda, too— they all notice when Near stops returning Mello’s glances.

—

“So hey,” says Mello, because they’re partnered together for a project and, with Near having been stuck in the hospital, it was obvious that they needed to make up for lost time. That is what he’s telling himself when he catches Near by the shoulder and turns the other boy around. He stops, though, at the way Near’s gaze meets his, searching, uncertain —what reason would Near have to ever feel uncertain? — before blinking.

“Oh.” Near tilts his head, and his white-haired fringe falls into charcoal-colored eyes. Unrelenting and inquisitive, the stare almost makes Mello flinch. “You must be Mello.”

And what the hell is that supposed to mean?

—

Well.

Here’s a picture: Near sitting with his back against the wall, and his dorm room bathed in the light of a dying sunset. He clutches bloody edelweiss tight in small, pale fists, and whispers to himself, over and over, “I will not die, I will not die, I will not die for someone who does not love me back.”

—

It’d be easy to put the pieces together, if Mello could think, or take a steady breath, or do something other than focus on the scar that mars Near’s chest. “It’s a clever procedure,” says Near, matter-of-fact. “Minimally invasive and highly efficient.”

Mello feels a tickling start at the back of his squeezed-shut throat. He coughs to clear it. Near quietly redoes the top three buttons of his shirt.

They look at each other.

Near does his curious “Near”-like half-smile. “I suppose introductions are in order?”

And Mello can’t explain the disgust that wells up in him in that moment. Just that it makes his stomach roil with nausea, just that it chokes him from the inside-out, just that it soaks his tongue in poison as he spits, “Go fuck yourself.”

(He can't bring himself to say much else.)

—

Later finds Mello holding a fistful of white violets in his hands, the petals limp with saliva. Moonlight and Matt’s concerned shouting fill the room, and Mello leans his head back against the wall; when he laughs, the sound is hollow, bitter.

—

.

.

.

Near and Mello have matching scars on their chests.

---

a/n: uh. so i may have gone overboard with the purple prose ;; sorry

hanahaki is a really interesting concept!! i think its mostly about perceived unrequited love, and a lot of people write really beautiful and creative things with it,,, it does seem that no one can really decide what the surgery does besides that It's Bad so. for the purposes of this fic, i went with the surgery causing you to lose all memories of that loved one, yep yep.

i'm not used to writing angst, so it was really challenging to try to get those impactful, emotional lines without having them sound too hammy haha!! this was also a different style of formatting/storytelling to me,,, i tried to get that "greyscale" feeling across, but lol... i do have more lighthearted meronia in the works (i also have a near-centric bachelor au with near as --you guessed it!!-- the nation's hottest new bachelor LMAO), so pls look forward to them!! (i'm really slow at writing tho orz) ...anyways i hope you all enjoyed!! pls lemme know what you think, if you can, and have an absolutely groovy day!!! byeeee

oh btw the title is from juby's cover of patchwork staccato!! i also really recommend listening to jefferz's cover ft. k*chan as well as lambia's cover!!! (and for funsies, another cover by McKatherine ft. kagamine rin, aka the love of my life and another by Epiaeon ft. all of miku's voicebanks haha)

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.70

Keith gave up trying to keep up. First Lance up. Then he was down. Then he was getting angry and upset on Keith’s behalf. Then he was pacing. And now he was crying again as they sat in Lance’s Bronco. They hadn’t even left the VOLTRON staff parking area before Lance was apologising about “his ego” and “wanting to punch people in the dick”. He’s thought taking his boyfriend for a walk would calm him down enough that he’d realise he needed to take things easy. But no. He hadn’t even gotten that far. Sitting in Lance’s car, Keith had his arms full of his crying boyfriend. Lance hadn’t had enough blood as far as Keith was concerned, now that he stopped to think about it. Keith’s blood during his heat had made his boyfriend super horny, and a bit egotistical, which Lance wasn’t right now. Now he stopped to think about it, he was sure he was right when he’d been worried Lance was pushing himself. All Lance’s “extraness” was coming from him being determined to find something before Krolia and the werewolves arrived. He was hyped up on emotion, not blood. What he needed was to rest, not go investigating crime scenes.

Keith wasn’t great at admitting he wasn’t good at resting when he needed to. He felt like resting would only cost people their lives. He had to work harder and be better. He had to be there all the time and be hands on. Being with Lance showed him how much pressure that had been on his shoulders. He wasn’t saying Lance couldn’t shoulder helping, he was saying he couldn’t shoulder helping on the back of yesterday and him being overly emotional that morning. He’d made the mistake he’d nearly made the day before. He’d let Lance rush, when he wasn’t ready to. He should have pulled Lance into his lap instead of letting him pace. He should have pulled Lance out of his head instead of sitting there between Shiro and Curtis.

“Babe. I’m going to say something and I don’t want you to get mad”

Lance sniffled

“Okay?”

“I think you’re still emotionally exhausted”

“I’m okay...”

They’d spent so much one together Lance was sounding like him

“You’re not... and I think I worked it out. I think the blood was okay, but you’re not”

“I’m fine... I had too much blood”

“You didn’t though. I think maybe... you did a me. Said you were, then tried too hard to be”

Lance shook his head

“I’m okay... I’m okay”

“I think you ego wants to protect me... I think you maybe feel that you want to solve this really badly because you don’t want them to have anything against us when they get here”

Lance sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at his face

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I think so”

As they say “Take’s one to know one”. One of Pidge’s favourite lines when Matt accused her of cheating

“Sometimes I get too focused... I’ve seen Coran for it before. I think maybe... maybe I was looking for something I could throw myself into... especially if I could be some help to you”

“A wise man once told me I can’t be a superhero”

“I feel like a super zero. It’s hard when you can’t forget things”

“You’re not a “SuperZero”. Do you regret not taking that pill?”

Lance shook his head

“I believe you. That’s what Rieva was talking to me about. I didn’t think about how it’d be to be a werewolf in heat and deal afterwards with not falling pregnant. It kind of makes me feel lame for worrying over a broken condom”

That subject was still tender, he wasn’t ready for prodding there

“Does that make me the same for still trying to process it?”

Lance shook his head again

“No. No. No, it doesn’t”

“Then your not lame either. We’ve blown off two briefings now. Do we call it a day?”

“Can we go for a drive instead? Get out of this place and breathe?”

Keith could drive. He’d done enough talking. Taking his bike would have really gotten his mind off things, but Kosmo was too wiggly for a bike ride

“You’ll have to give me directions”

“I can do that”

Lance leaned in and kissed him. Keith happy to kiss him back. One near miss wasn’t going to get between them.

*

Lance directed Keith to the park where the bodies were found without thinking about it. It was a nice place. Plenty of grass and open space. Not the kind of space you’d expect to see two dead bodies, not with all the people there today. Kids played in the playground, parents sipping coffees as they played on their phones instead of watching their kids

“Babe, what are we doing here?”

“I guess I was thinking about this place. I didn’t mean to end up here”

Keith sighed at him. Lance didn’t blame him. They agreed he was trying to overcompensate for the lack of control in his life and his perceived uselessness. Though Lance couldn’t help it. Every time he thought of Keith being bullied by those wanker wolves, he got mad. Keith was mad too, but he’d let himself feel like he wasn’t worth people’s love or time. Lance loathed it. They’d spent so long talking, learning, and growing together, that sometimes they didn’t know how to follow through after letting themselves be vulnerable. Focusing on the reports meant helping Keith and moving forward. Focusing on reports meant he might be able to help Keith when the crucial time came, or at least show him he really did have his back, despite how much of unlikely pair they made.

Staring across the park through the windshield, Keith sighed as he turned to look at him

“We were supposed to be taking a moment”

“I know. I can’t help it. I miss Garrison, and the open air. Besides, it’s not like the park itself is bad. I don’t see a gaggle of lurking vampires or a scurry of werewolves. We can take Kosmo for a walk and he can do his doggy business. I’ve got plastic bags in the back. And I’ve got my jacket on, so it won’t be too bad out there”

“Babe. It’s not the weather I’m worried about. Krolia is full on. James has no time for anyone he thinks under him. We can’t walk out of briefings with them”

“I know... I mean, I don’t know. I guess I’m assuming. The park was on my mind, but I wasn’t thinking of coming here to work. I just needed air. We won’t even poke around, because that’s not what we’re here to do. Look at the grass. Look how uniform it is. I wonder what kind of lawnmower they use”

Keith raised an eyebrow

“Did you just... Your old man is showing. No one cares about how smooth the grass is”

“I do... my poor garden’s probably half bloody dead. The damn dandelions are probably having a picnic knowing I’m not there to rip the little bastards out”

“I still don’t think I understand what made you come back so fast”

“Rieva did. Honerva’s gone mad. Human experiments. Blood lust. Maids and tourists that go missing. Dead werewolves and vamps. Honerva’s barely... she’s not sane and she’s fae. Lotor’s her son. If he’s here, she’s sent people to retrieve him. People like Sendak. People like Sendak don’t have morals. That’s what Rieva is scared of. Killing us would be like swatting a fly. Lotor painted targets on all of us by showing up. Take into fact that you and Shiro are hunters and you’ll be drugged and off to Europe to be pets between bouts of experimentation. That’s the general gist. They’ve got so much power that they don’t care about the Blades or VOLTRON. They’d easily crush both groups without thinking about it. Between you and me, I think maybe they had something to do with Rieva’s parents being killed. She knows a lot about European wolf culture and even the big bad wolves there avoid Zarkon and Honerva’s territories”

Keith leaned back to rest against the seat

“They don’t teach us about them. They teach us history to a certain point, but it’s not until we’re heading out that we get a full briefing. It’s supposed to be in case someone turns traitor or something like that. Maybe I was too low on the totem pole to know? Krolia would know”

“Yeah, well, we’ve got Rieva. She was raised by werewolves. We’ve got Matt who can hack just as good as Pidge. Coran can use his fae magic to subdue wolves. And you’ve got me...”

Keith reached out, tucking a strand of stray hair back behind Lance’s ear

“Babe, you’re getting worked up again”

Lance couldn’t help it. What good were the Blades if they didn’t share intelligence on targets? No. Fuck. He was stressing Keith out. Keith had been brave opening up to him. He’d wanted to act as normal as possible to show Keith that what he’d told him didn’t change how he felt for him.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should find another stick, and smack me with it when I’m doing it again?”

“I didn’t know you were into spanking”

Keith gave him a crooked smile, acting like he wasn’t being a tease. Keith could spank him and he’d probably beg for more

“Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe I just wanna be smacked like a piñata? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out after we’ve taken a walk and taken in the sun. It’s good a source of Vitamin D-grump”

“I’m not grumpy”

“You’re not happy either”

“I’m getting there. I don’t want you pushing it on your walk. You need rest”

Just like that, Keith had him thinking about the broken condom again. This was why he shouldn’t be resting. He could wallow in his room, but he’d rather wallow on his sofa with his wine. He might as well be a wheel of Swiss cheese for all the whining he’d been doing... But if he was Swiss Cheese, he might earn himself a bit of God’s love with how holey he’d be

“I’ll tell you if a need a break. And you’ll tell me if you need one. I can’t wait until Kosmo is big enough to teach him how to play fetch”

Kosmo was trying to eat Lance’s shoes because they were taking so long

“Okay. Let’s head out”

*

Keith wished he’d had more than his phone camera as Lance played with Kosmo. His boyfriend would jog a few steps ahead and Kosmo would go bounding along after him. There were other people in the park, Keith kind of wishing he’d thought to arm himself before they went out, but it was a much needed moment of normality. Lance laughing and scooping up Kosmo when he chased him. He didn’t feel like a hunter, other than the fact he couldn’t stop scanning the park every so often for potential threats. He felt like he’d felt back in Garrison with Lance. He’d had so much time there to think and be with Lance. Now they were here as two boyfriends taking their fur son for a walk with the sun sitting low in the horizon.

Keith’s idea of Lance taking it slowly wasn’t having his boyfriend jogging, but Lance was so happy with Kosmo and had promised to take it easy. Jogging was probably as much exercise as a brisk walk for a vampire, plus being behind Lance and Kosmo meant he was able to take lots of photos of the pair of them

“Keith, look how cute he is”

Kosmo was nipping at Lance’s fingers, Lance having stopped meant he caught up to both of them

“He is. He is the precious fur son”

“Having a dog is great. But don’t tell Blue I said that. We should bring her. She’s really good on a lead”

Reaching out, Keith ruffled Lance’s hair

“Yeah. We’ll have to head back soon, we shouldn’t be here after sunset”

“Awww, but look at his face. 10. No. 15 more minutes. Please”

Lance raised Kosmo up, pulling “puppy dog eyes” and a pout as he did. Keith was weak

“15 minutes. That goes for both of you”

“Yay! We should totally take some photos too”

Keith drew his brow

“Haven’t you noticed I have been?”

“But they’re all of me and Kosmo. Not me, you, and Kosmo. I won’t forget today, but they’re precious memories for you too”

Keith was a push over as he set a timer on his phone. The next 15 minutes spent taking selfies with Lance and Kosmo. He wasn’t terribly photogenic, and didn’t like the way he looked in most of them, but He couldn’t erase them. Not with the way Lance was looking at him in them. He was looking at Keith like Keith was the only person in existence... and it felt good. He’d lived to survive, now it felt like maybe he was living and not just alive. Lance kissed his cheek, Keith blushed as he hit the button on his phone, just before the timer went off

“I guess that’s it?”

Lance sounded disappointed

“Yeah. We have to head back, but we should do this more often”

Nosing into Keith’s cheek, Lance kissed him again

“I’d really like that”

“Me too. This was nice”

“Yeah. Next time you should try having Kosmo chase you. He looks so happy running around”

“You looked pretty happy too”

“I am. I feel so much better now. I know we vampires are supposed to live in coffins and hate the sun, but I like the outdoors”

“Have you ever been hiking?”

“Years ago. We both know how I feel about unnecessary physical exercise”

“We should go. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it at the end”

“Fiiiiine. But if I let you find a trail, can you promise you’ll go easy on me?”

Lance didn’t need him to go easy on him. He could out walk Keith any day

“No way. You have the advantage”

Lance blew a raspberry on his cheek, before darting away from him

“Be nice to your elders”

Keith wiped at his cheek, nose wrinkled

“You’re fucking gross”

Lance laughed, setting Kosmo down. The puppy bounding over to Keith happily

“You brought it on yourself”

Picking up Kosmo’s lead, Keith huffed

“I’m going to find a stick and stake your undead arse!”

“Babe, you don’t need a stick for that. Hey, tripped over a branch lately? How about a root?”

Groaning at his boyfriend, Keith buried his face in his hands

“Baaaabe. No. That’s terrible”

Lance came back to his side, slinging his arm over Keith’s shoulders

“Why is sex in tents always great? Because it’s fucking in-tents. Pidge made me learn a bunch of pick up lines because she worried I was going to die alone”

“Lance, you don’t need to lie to me. You knew pick-up lines before Pidge, didn’t you?”

Lance sighed dramatically, leaning heavily against him

“Yeah, but I never used them. I mean, the only guy I would pick up, I can literally throw over my shoulder at any time”

“And now I can never show my face in that pub again... You’re lucky your cute”

Lance eased back, smiling as he did

“You’re the only one who’d say that”

Good. He didn’t want to share

“Hey, babe. Go ahead and feel my shirt. It’s boyfriend material”

Lance snorted with laughter, Keith a little embarrassed, but happier that his boyfriend was happy. Today had been salvaged and now he just wanted to go back to Lance’s room and ignore work.

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.2

The Partnership

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2250

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Daredevil is so-so warming up to the team... some of its members anyway. Steve is too busy being furious with you. Or is he?

Warnings: pissed off Steve, mentions of violence, swearing, fluff, mild angst…? 

Story Masterlist

���───── ·❆· ──────

If anyone was watching, they probably thought they were high and hallucinating. The quinjet basically landed on water, opening precisely for you to just leave the pier and enter the ramp lash entrance without faltering in your steps. You walked in, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on your tail, the tension in his shoulders obvious.

“Hi, Elsa. Looking as good as ever. DD, good to see you again,” Tony’s voice welcomed you, confirming your suspicion. Everyone was now here, probably. Wonderful.

“Mr. Stark,” Daredevil acknowledged him with a nod.

You, on the other hand, ignored the greeting. If he was starting with Elsa, you were not about to speak to him unless necessary, even when he told you that you looked good – hell, it had been like an hour since he had seen you. Jerk.

“Wow, look at you, kiddo. Good job. Daredevil, we haven’t met yet-“ Clint stood up from his seat, hand extended.

“Meaning you haven’t stalked me and tried to get me to join your team?”

Clint wasn’t surprised or concerned about the distance the masked man kept, withdrawing his hand easily. “Yep. Name’s Clint Barton.”

The Devil just nodded again, not giving up his own name. Shocker.

“Daredevil. Welcome on board. Hey, our new recruitment expert.” Tasha gave you a significant look saying ‘brace yourself’. You picked up on it immediately.

“Hey, Natasha. Is Steve mad?” you asked innocently despite knowing the answer for sure.

“Yes,” sounded from behind you quietly, a brief warning from the Devil, as the man in question appeared, his footsteps heavy and angry.

“You are in so much trouble, missy!”

You made a face. “Steve, do not call me ‘missy’. It’s the on the top of the bad words list, seriously, who the fuck taught you that?” you teased him lightly, the humour leaving you when you found yourself under his strict gaze. Not just strict; worried. Hurt. “I’m not sorry for turning it off. You weren’t exactly helping.”

“I appreciated it,” Daredevil supported you unexpectedly and you eyed him, fighting a smile, unable to resist the warmth of satisfaction in your chest.

“Yeah, well, the job is done. Congratulation. Now turn it on again, or so help me god, I’ll cuff you with powers-restrictors and you’re sitting this mission out,” Steve grumbled, spinning on his heels, returning to the cockpit without another word.

You blinked in surprise at the harshness, heavy guilt settling in your stomach. Surely it wasn’t such a big deal? No, there hadn’t even been a real danger; Steve wouldn’t be so pissed about something like this, not normally. Something was wrong.

You left Daredevil’s side, making your way after Steve.

“Leave him. He’s just a grumpy old man,” Tony hummed, drinking some energy drink through a straw.

You ignored him. This wasn’t grumpiness, this was anxiety. Steve was anxious about something and it wasn’t you turning off your comms.

You entered the cockpit, hearing Clint trying to socialize with the Devil while Natasha interjected with the plan so the Devil would be brought up to speed.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Anderson,” your captain growled, pretending to be perfectly focused on piloting a plane that could just easily run on autopilot. The tendons in his forearms were so tightened he could cut something with them.

You gulped. Anderson. The spy name you were given by S.H.I.E.L.D. after your real persona had to die. No one on team called you that. Ever.

Crap. This is bad.

You sat down next to him despite his protest.

“That’s too bad. Because-“

“I don’t care about apologies.”

You scoffed. “Good, ‘cause you’re not getting one.”

His statue-like posture shifted and his eyes turned to you for a fraction of a second before returning to staring ahead blankly, pretending to see what was in front of them. He didn’t say a word.

You bit your lip, covering his right hand with yours gently. His fingers twitched, but otherwise he didn’t react to your gesture. You ran your thumb over his knuckles.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on? And don’t try that bullshit about being angry because of me cutting you off. You knew it was a good move. Talk to me, Steve,” you whispered, observing his hard expression, wondering what he was hiding behind it. Steve had always been good at perceiving your emotions – and thanks to the way he had opened to you, it went both ways. But now, he was closing off and you hated it. “Please.”

Steve remained silent. It might seem he didn’t even listen to you, but you could tell he was struggling with something. Steve was… a sweetheart. A kick-ass serum-powered stubborn reckless sweetheart. He cared for people. He worried. And he thought the serum had not only made him the most famous American hero, but also transformed him into Atlas – he believed he needed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and protect everyone else. You knew that this was why your crush was pointless – he would always saw you as the newbie, as the little sister who needed protection and couldn’t bear the weight of what he was carrying – like for example right now.

“There’s something out of place,” he said quietly and you supressed the rush of joy into your abdomen at his honesty. And silenced the ‘you mean beside the fact the daughter of the Secretary of the Treasury was kidnapped from her private school together with three other girls, taken by a human trafficking ring?’, knowing now was not the time. The Secretary was out of his mind. This would be a STRIKE team mission, but he demanded Captain America and the Avengers. “Something just doesn’t feel right. Maybe paranoia is to getting me-”

The Secretary demanded the Avengers; for some reason, Steve didn’t think it was enough and wanted the Devil on it too; because he had a bad feeling about this. It all made sense now.

You squeezed his hand and he turned it up to catch your hand in his and reciprocate the gesture, not caring he let go of the controller – the plane was still on autopilot then. He really had been sitting here only for show. You mentally rolled your eyes.

“Well, you’re old enough for that, but I don’t think it’s paranoia, Steve.” His blue eyes met yours, allowing you to glimpse at the unsettling uneasiness inside of him. “You have good instincts and you have every right to trust them. I know I do.”

His posture slightly relaxed, the corners of his lips rising just inconspicuously. “Thank you.”

“I’ll keep the irresponsibility to minimum. Even smaller minimum than usual. I promise. I’ll be on the highest alert,” you reassured him softly, sensing his stiffness resolving completely. Oh dear god, this man worried for others so much. He needed something light in his life.

You squeezed his hand one more time, rising to your feet and patting his shoulder, determined to light up the mood by quoting him. “If they hurt me, I’ll hurt them back. And I’ll walk it off if they kill-“

“Don’t say it.”  

His hand shoot up to your wrist, stopping you before you could finish and leave. You met his eyes once more, curling your fingers around his own wrist.

“I’ll be careful, Steve. I promise. Just try to do the same, okay?”

He smiled at the open display of care; it was nothing rare, yet, he would probably always find it precious. He was Captain America, he was meant to worry about others; you could understand why he was moved by someone else taking the role of the concerned friend.

“Go meet the Devil properly. You’re paired with him.”

You blinked in surprise, tilting your head to side. “Why me?”

“ ’Cause he seems to trust you enough to join the mission,” Steve stated, sounding as if it was obvious.

Oh. Okay, you could see his point.

“Are you saying the others don’t trust me then?” you demanded, pretending to be wounded. Maybe not completely pretending. You were the newbie after all, you would understand if they would be reluctant to do so even after the missions you had had together.

“Oh come on, Snowflake. You know we do.”

────── ·❆· ──────

You entered the larger space only to find Daredevil in the company of Clint and Tony. Tasha had probably run him through the basics of the mission and now was getting ready, while the guys were trying to interrogate the temporary addition to the team.

The Devil shot you a brief smile as you appeared and the other men noticed you too.

“But seriously. Is it Lucifer? Or is something like Raphael, like the archangel, and you’re trolling everyone?” Tony demanded and you snorted, the corners of Devil’s lips rising higher.

“No, Mr. Stark. It’s neither. Give up.”

You pated the billionaire’s shoulder. “You should suit up. We’re almost there. Plus I need to talk strategy with my partner.”

Clint grinned at Tony’s shocked expression. The man to be Iron Man gaped at Daredevil, pointing at him accusingly. “That’s not fair! Why do you get to be with the cool one?”

You rolled your eyes at the lame pun while Clint just snickered, getting up to prepare his gear.

“No, seriously. I bet I’m paired with the old man again.”

Daredevil shrugged. “Birds of feather flock together.”

You burst out laughing at the daring man who pointed out Tony’s age.

“Motherf-“

“Language!” you called out, your voice supported by three more, including one from the cockpit. Tony raised his chin, his hand imitating an offended diva gesture, which somehow activated his suit that started wrapping around him.

“Savages, all of you.” He turned his back to you and you approached the Devil, sitting next to him.

“That okay? You being paired with me?” you asked quietly.

“Of course. I get to be with the cool one. Can I ask what your abilities are exactly? Just to know-“

“Sure. Though you pretty much experienced it. I can create and manipulate ice, lower temperature of anything to almost absolute zero. It… can get nasty, but I’m trying to avoid that.”

“Understand. I don’t kill either.”

“I know.” He huffed out a laugh, less wry than you would expect from someone who just found out you had done a lot of reading on them. “You have a very good hearing and you kick ass. Anything else?”

He licked his lips, wavering. “Pretty much everything is amplified. Not just my hearing.”

Your eyes went wide in surprise. What? How— as in everything? Like his vision, sense of touch, sense of smell, taste too? “I’m not sure-“

“Would you like a demonstration?” You nodded without thinking. “Alright. Uhm… your heartbeat-“ just stopped, you wanted to say, because what the fuck- “is slower than average. You’re using a shampoo with… lilac, but there’s something I can’t really place. It’s adding to your aura, which is somehow colder – not because of the temperature, that’s normal, I guess maybe the device under your right ribs has something to with that – but… something cold, fresh.”

You felt your mouth fall open. Holy shit. He… how the hell did he perceive all that? Including the device that kept your body temperature in check?

He extended his hand and hovered over yours on your thigh. You wanted to ask what was he doing, but the answer came before you found the courage.

“Your hands, they are a bit colder and I can feel them… bursting with energy even when you’re not doing anything. It’s— I’m sorry. I’m scaring you. I didn’t want to-“

“It’s okay,” you blurted out, your voice unnaturally high and in stark contrast to his quiet and measured. He was scaring you a little, okay, but you had practically asked him. And you lived with a bunch of strange people, this shouldn’t freak you out, and it didn’t, it was just… “Surprising. But okay. Shocking, maybe. Fascinating. Terrible – how do you live like this? Knowing so much about people?”

You were glad he didn’t mention he could probably see every pore on your skin and- “Jesus, wait, you don’t have an x-ray vision too, do you?”

He chuckled, relaxing as he realized you weren’t scared or offended. “No. No, I don’t have an x-ray vision. And I promise I wouldn’t peek… without your permission.”

You let out incredulous laugh. Did he just… flirt with you?

“Good to know you’re a gentleman, Daredevil.”

“What do I call you?” he asked softly, tilting his head curiously. It was incredibly cute.

“Hm?”

“I know you heard me.”

You shrugged and settled with honesty and light joking. “Anything you want, I guess. Frostbite. Snow Queen. Really, there are number of options.”

“But not Snowflake,” he suspected, his voice falling even lower, sending your heart racing.

“No… uhm, I would rather if you didn’t call me that, yeah. It’s…”

“Too personal. I understand. Anderson?”

“Fake last name. Agent Anderson. What I became after I… died. You can go with that,” you offered, pushing down the unpleasant feeling it gave you.

“You don’t like it.”

“I don’t,” you confirmed with a shrug. Then you offered him to call you your first name, because that made the most sense really.

He just smiled, a boyish smile you wouldn’t expect on a face of man who beat up people in back alleys on regular basis. Then again, you really should know better by now, considering who you worked with.

“I’ll think about it.”  

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 3

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​ @murdermornings​ @elisaa-shelby​

────── ·❆· ──────

Thank you for reading! Tagging remanis the same; you want in or out, just lemme know. Kudos to you :-*

[ancientwastedlores]

The Support System (Ch: 8)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Fic requests are welcome! 

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 

Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

______________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 8:

The agents are dropped off at the Avengers facility, while you, Nat, Clint, and Sam are taken to the Avengers Tower. Thor went back to Asgard directly from Hong Kong.

Everyone had a chance to take a shower in the jet, so you’re feeling pretty refreshed going in. Some agents in the building greet you on your way to your room. Some offer to help with your bags and gear, you say no thanks, you got it.

You open the door to your room and see Loki in your bed.

The watch next to him reads 11AM. He usually doesn’t sleep this late. You let him be, and place your bags at the back of the room, and on your way back to exit the room, you stop by the bed to look. 

Loki sleeps peacefully, wearing his soft cotton pyjamas. It's meditative just to watch him breathe, so you smile and linger a moment longer. You look closer and see him hugging one of your hoodies. Your eyes widen and you quickly walk out, shutting the door behind you. You lean against the wall, unsure of what you saw, and why it was happening.

You honestly don’t know what to think, and know ignoring it won’t make it go away. You decide to ask Tony if Loki has been acting strangely or anything knowing fully he will say "I told you so". 

xx

‘I TOLD YOU SO’ Tony yells.

You just accepted that his idea of letting Vision go in the mirror dimension with the stone was good, after reading Strange’s email out loud.

‘When do we start?’ he asks, his eyes gleaming. He rubs his hands together, a wide grin playing on his lips. Surrounded by all his lab equipment, sparkling and whirring, it makes him look like an evil mad scientist.

‘We still don’t know how to use the stone. And we can’t let Vision puppet for us when we still don’t know what to do’ you explain.  ‘Vision would know’ ‘You sound unsure...’ you pat Tony’s back. ‘We waited this long, we can wait a while longer till Thor is here’. ‘Isn’t it just hold and think’ he rolls his eyes. ‘Tony, it’s not a sonic screwdriver’. He looks at you questioningly. You shrug. ‘It’s a Doctor Who thing’.

He turns to walk away.

‘I did want to ask though, um…’ you hesitate.

He looks at you, waiting.

‘Did Loki say anything while I was gone? Or… do anything weird?’ Bruce, who has been listening, interjects. ‘He kept asking if we know how you guys are doing’. ‘Anything else?’ ‘Nope. We haven’t seen him around too much’. ‘We still see him at breakfast usually’ Tony provides. You furrow your brows. ‘Yeah, I uh…’ ‘What?’ Tony asks. ‘Nothing, I just saw him in my bed hugging one of my shirts... I don’t know how to perceive that’. ‘Well’ Bruce says. ‘If you don’t feel the same way, you should tell him before he finds out the hard way and goes insane’. You wrinkle your nose at the accusation. ‘Insane is a bit of a stretch. And I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know IF I feel’. ‘Are you gonna ask him about it?’ Tony asks. ‘I’m sure there’s a reason he hasn’t come out with it yet, I’ll just let him take his time with it’.

Tony nods, and returns to his work.

‘I will admit; I’m surprised you’re taking this so well’ you tell Tony. ‘Uhuh…’ Tony keeps working. ‘Uhuh? Why the change of heart?’

Bruce and Tony say nothing. You turn to look at Bruce, who is bending a little too much over his computer trying to avoid your gaze.

‘Bruce…’ you say. ‘Hm?’ he says without looking up.

You look back at Tony and catch him glaring at Bruce.

‘Oh my god, something happened, tell me, tell me RIGHT NOW’ you exclaim. ‘Bruce…’ Tony warns. ‘LOKI KNOWS HOW TO USE THE STONES AND TONY SAID TO TEACH VISION’ Bruce blurts out.

Your eyes widen, and you look back at Tony. ‘WHAT!?’  ‘He heard Bruce and I talk about it and offered to help and I said okay’ Tony says, his tone a tad defensive.  ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ you skip behind the table and hug Tony. ‘Good on you for giving him a chance’. ‘If you tell Natasha I allowed this, you’re fired’.

You roll your eyes, remembering Natasha give a similar threat in Queens. Tony and Nat are forever in some sort of unspoken competition.

‘So we don’t have to wait for Thor, we can start right away!’ you exclaim. ‘Yeah, there’s another thing though’ Bruce gets up from behind his desk. ���Loki said that the way Strange got his stone to talk was a hack- described it like the operating system of a computer’. ‘Okay?’ ‘Basically, Strange hacked into the Time Gem, so the other stones strengthened their own, in a sense, operating systems. It’s going to take longer, and be tougher, with the reality gem’. ‘We aren’t lacking time, so it’s fine’ you point out. ‘Strange did say he’s busy this month, so that gives Vision time to train’.

Tony and Bruce agree, and then politely kick you out of the lab to go rest after your week long mission abroad.

xx

Unsure of what to do, you just roam the halls, saying hi to random agents walking around. No one will train with you, because Tony ordered them to not let you. You don’t feel like reading another bunch of papers. You aren’t allowed in the lab. And Loki’s asleep, so you can’t watch Doctor Who.

So you go the kitchen and see what’s there to eat. Sam’s there, with Rhodey, describing the badass Kaecilius cage, and how it works.

‘Hi!’ you say. Rhodey waves at you. ‘Okay, come here, I wanna demonstrate how the cage got that guy to fall to his knees’ Sam motions for you to come over.

You walk over to them and stand before Sam. He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you to him. ‘So the tiny disk has these arms that go around your torso…’ he lets go and takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them back, ‘…pulls your arms back…’ he uses his knee to gently kick the back of your knees so you fall on the carpet, ‘…hits the back of your knees with force so you hit the floor, and damn, it looks like the fall hurts…’ you can’t help but laugh, thinking of how odd this whole scene would look if someone were to walk in. 

‘HEY’

The three of you turn to look at the entrance, where Loki is glaring at Sam, clearly unaware of the gag here.

The next second, Loki teleports right next to Sam and pushes him off of you.

‘STAY BACK’ Rhodey yells, standing up and pointing an Iron Glove at Loki. They stare each other down.  ‘Rhodey, it’s fine…’ you motion for him to put his Glove down. ‘It’s just a misunderstanding’.

Sam gets up. ‘I’m good’ he announces. ‘Loki, we were just showing Rhodey how this particular trap works, and Sam was using me to demonstrate’ you explain. 

Loki looks you up and down to check if you’re okay. You’re sustaining a few old bruises and cuts from your spar with Loki and your mission, but nothing too recent. He looks at Sam. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’. ‘It’s no trouble’ Sam sits on the couch. ‘Just so you know, though, we don’t revel in beating each other up’.

You sense Loki remember the "friendly fight" before the extraction mission, and he starts to walk away.

‘Hey’ you grab his arm. ‘You wanna continue Doctor Who? I’m not doing anything’. ‘Yes’ he smiles, relieved. 

xx

‘Matt Smith is undoubtedly my second favourite Doctor’ you declare, as the DVD loads. ‘You said the same thing about Capaldi’ Loki reminds you. ‘Ah, the second spot is interchangeable’. ‘Who’s the first, then?’ ‘Jodie Whittaker’ you grin.  

Loki plops down next to you, and you hit play. The opening theme starts.

‘When did you get back?’ Loki asks. ‘Around 11’. ‘Oh…’

You internally scold yourself for not changing the time, because now you’ve gone and made him feel awkward. But he says nothing, and you allow it to be that way. The show starts.

xx

Weeks pass. Business as usual continues, with regular training hours, Loki and Vision playing around with the Reality stone, and Tony breaking apart and analysing the new tech. He has barely scratched the surface, and often asks you and Nat to come to the lab and test it out.

Weekdays consist of work, weekends have the Avengers drinking and having a good time. Everyone seems cooler with Loki too, which thrills you. You just want everyone to get along.

One of the weekends, Tony suggested karaoke. He only did it so he’d get to show off his rendition of ‘Fly Me to The Moon’, but everyone excitedly agreed.

So on the week, you see every Avenger spend a lot more time in their rooms, retiring early and coming to breakfast late, to practice for the weekend. Tony did say there would be a prize. You chuckled at how seriously some people took it, comparing them to little children. But once Nat asked you to listen to her belt out the Postmodern Jukebox version of ‘Oops, I Did It Again’, you started to get into it, abandoning your Doctor Who marathons with Loki to practice in your room.

‘Can I watch you?’ Loki had asked once. ‘Absolutely not’ you said. ‘You can wait till the weekend’.

Not watching TV with you till late night left no excuse for Loki to spend the night in your room, and you saw him struggle to come up with a story for two whole days - it was quite entertaining, but a little sad too. It ranged from "You left your phone in the kitchen, I'm just here to return it" to "I worked all day on the stones, do you want to just relax with a drink and a movie?". You thought of just offering, but told yourself that if he wants something, he should just ask and not expect it to be handed to him. You just threw yourself into prepping your routine, because you saw Thor had a routine, and you weren’t about to be upstaged by him.

Nat asks you at dinner what song you plan to sing, and you refused to say anything at all.

‘Mine’s a secret too’ Tony said, grinning. ‘We all know you’re doing “Fly Me to The Moon”, Tony’ Nat says. Tony frowns, and everyone laughs.

Finally, one night Loki does just come and say he couldn’t sleep in his room alone, and asks if he can continue sleeping in your room.

‘Yeah. Why didn’t you just ask before?’ you ask. He shrugs. ‘I just didn’t want to ask too much of you’. No, that wasn’t it, but you smile. ‘It’s no problem. When I’m done with my practice, I'll let you know’. ‘Or you can stay in my room?’ he offers. ‘Nope’ you say calmly, but internally panic. In your room, you have control. You weren’t giving that up. 

He accepts and leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

______________________________________________________________

Next chapter, karaoke! <3 

[ohaewz]

tv-show questionnaire tag 🔖

ーi was tagged by the lovely @sarcwat thank youu, sweetie!💞🌸✨

rules: pick any 5 shows (without looking at the questions), then answer the following questions. don’t cheat! and tag some people.

2gether

tharntype

until we meet again

theory of love

why ru

• who is your favorite character in 2? definitely type. the contrary of his personality and of course, the development of it are the things that i like about him. the pure honesty toward himself such as the acknowledgment of mistakes that he has made and learning from them or even his own way of loving and understanding someone are one of the sides that i like. i mean, he knows himself, i remember that he was saying:”yes i’m a straightforward, hot-tempered etc. / but this is me.” and plus, by having all these sides, he tries to change and soften himself, although he is so soft in deep, through walking in his new and beautiful road with tharn. and also, generally being in denial to something like an emotion that he feels because of his shyness is so cute! i like how so natural and realistic he is.

• who is your least favorite character in 1? i wanna say mil. we’ve seen him just a few episodes but i don’t find good about how he behaves i guess. yes, there is an increasing lenience to phukong as time passes -which is so sweet, but i think there are still wrong things that he does and has. i want to see development of himself, hopefully.

• what is your favorite episode of 4? oof, wait it’s a hard question. i might have forgetten some scenes but, the one in which khai confesses his love to third by giving the same sincerity to him, like the way third did with the reference to love actually “to me you’re perfect.” scene. and at that time his speaking about how he feels and answering the question of “what is love?” by emphasising how so special and specific it is and after that giving him the necklace, again.. yes, absolutely this scene is one of my favourites, it is so touching. i suddenly remember how i felt while watching😔🤧

• what is your favorite season of 5? there is only one season of why ru right now hehe

• who is your favorite couple in 3? *cries, screams, jumps, heart’s broken* inkorn inkorn and inkorn! their relationship involves its own both matte and vibrant colours just like the lively and sweet personality of intouch and the withdrawn and dignified one of korn. therefore, the affection between them was deeply so passionate. they were the right ones and souls that complete each other.

• who is your favorite couple in 2? i love our main couple tharntype very much, but also we have khlui and seo!! they were so lovely!!

• what is your favorite episode of 1? ah.. another hard question.. i’ll go with the episode 7 in which the story that we have seen and virtually lived with them was explained wholly. i can talk every each episode one by one but, this holds the major status in my eyes. a reciprocal confession of love and pleasant feelings to each other that both sarawat and tine have, yes.. i’m still crying over this.

• what is your favorite episode of 5? probably, episode 8 where saifahzon hugs to each other and reveal their feelings by giving a kiss. and also when fighter wears a koala costume and lends a hand to tutor, these were so cute!

• what is your favorite season of 2? the second season is forthcoming, let’s wait and see🤓

• how long have you watched 1? from the very beginning, the first episode. so, it’s been a while i guess. and we have some episodes left, the reality of which breaks my heart into pieces. that’s why i’m currently thinking a bing watching🤤

• how did you become interested in 3? oh it happened when i was watching theory of love. while scrolling down on my youtube page, i saw it as a recommendation in there and wrote it in my watching list. and after a few days, a friend of mine messaged me that she had started watching and insisted on me to watch.

• who is your favorite actor in 4? third being delicate and sensitive; the sadness which he only shared with his own soul have inevitably reached me, but also after having met his love -the genuine love, evoking the most peaceful, gentle and thoughtful person inside by complimenting a big part of the quest of map of himself; thereby attaining the growth.. yes, i say khai.. he has an important place in my heart.

• which one do you prefer 1, 2 or 5? undoubtedly and undeniably 2gether the series, period.

• which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3? once again 2gether. i must have watched every episode at least twice or third times asdsjdd. i’m so into with this series, it’s perhaps my ultimate fave since i am a freshman in bl series.

• if you could be anyone from 4, who would you be? i suppose.. umm.. third? because i want to perceive and understand how it feels like to have someone in your life that you love from bottom of your heart.

• would a cross-over between 3 and 4 work? uhm.. it might be? unless.. no, i cannot imagine right now, i couldn’t create anything in mind kshdjssh

• pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple: have no idea but what about seeing air or fong with someone else? i love these two🥺

• overall, which show has the better storyline 3 or 5? i’ll definitely go with until we meet again. the mythical belief of red thread and the whole storyline is quite well and impressive.

• which has better theme music, 2 or 4? i love both, can’t choose,, “be mine” is vivacious whereas “getsunova” is just like rainfall in a warm day. both good, both nice!

ーi’m tagging: @seren-ii @altgulf @inkorns @saratinne and @musicdramalove ✨🌻 also, anyone else who wants to do it could say that i’ve tagged them 💫

[readbythestarlight]

c2e85

Ohhhh boy here we go guys

Liam...?

I don’t

Ah

Ricky and Morty

“The chained oblivion, no big deal” Matt Plz

A dark elf floating six or seven inches from the ground. I don’t like how familiar that sounds.

[[MORE]]

28. Christ.

YOOOOO Pumats gonna fight!

BE SAFE PUMATS

or... not? xD

lol gets up on the counter because the rest of them are

He gonna heal??

He gonna... make them invisible?

NICE made my boy Cad invisible but he had still fight

Pumat looking after his fellow firbolg

I love when they panick go invisible xD

Gonna hide on the bookshelf lol Nott

Ooooo bola shot I like that

Yay bane!

This is gonna be a long slow fight

Nice job Cad, canceling that crit

Ffffuck didn’t cancel the crit fuck

93?! FUCK

NO

MATTHEW

YOU CANNOT KILL NOTT AGAIN

JFC

Oh my GOD I hate everything

Cad getting Nott back up yay!

STUNNED YEAHHHH

Not hang on Matthew STUNNED

Okay okay okay this isn’t as bad as it could be...

Banishing smite?

Oh fuck her

YAAAAS FJORD

BANISH HER TO HER HOME plane

bitch slapped her onto another plane lol

I like Cad’s little defensive stuff. He’s such an excellent support.

Also okay so aside from her high damage attacks this assassin doesn’t seem as terrible as I feared so... what’s the catch? Because something awful is def gonna happen.

PS: “that doesn’t happen every day”

Cad: “it does to us”

I’m glad she left but I do NOT like that she can just sneak up on them at any time

PS: “And now they know where I live...”

N: “You could burn down the store, start fresh?”

PS: “I like where you’re going with that, but I might wanna save that for a last option.”

Pumat has some kind of knowledge about

Pumat can MIND CONTROL?

PUMAT GONNA HELP THEM FREE HER MAYBE?

Poor Laura :(

PS: “not like you burned it down or anything.”

Free shield, nice!

Pumat is a sweet guy I love him and I’ve missed him

Freeloading their way into a short rest lol

Jester for the love of the Traveler do NOT go in there as your mom

FJORD do not encourage this

Beau assuring Jester that she supports HER just not the idea is SO sweet

JESTER oh my god

WHISPERS

Cad’s gonna know before Jester does

Ooh dear their description has gotten back to the other side of the mountains

MOAR WHISPERS

I like how they’re pulling literally everyone they know, pretty much every ally they’ve ever made into this

I’m honestly glad The Gentleman isn’t interested in getting involved. It suits his character well.

EVEN MOAR WHISPERS

Jester’s real sad

Like she really was hoping it was him

(And it still could be, we don’t know what Cad perceived)

Oh god Jester

Oh honey

Poor Jester

xD the Tal’dorea council question strikes again

Aw Jester :(

J: “but if he doesn’t want me then I don’t want him it’s fine.”

F: “....we’re glad to have you.”

J: “I’m glad to be here.”

B: “Sometimes found family is better anyway.”

Shit wait fuck

“You should tell her”

IS HE ACTUALLY HER DAD??

holy shit y’all

oh lord Nott had a crush on Caleb??

HOLY SHIT

BEAU ADMITTED SHE HAS A CRUSH ON JESTER

Oh shit the BeauJester fans have been fed tonight

Laura is laying there giggling lol

That’s super sweet that Beau is crushing on her man

I mean I’m still so BeauYasha but

Oh boy okay who is this

Oh it’s him

Oh my GOD

here we go oh god

Also what if he’s her uncle not her dad? He mentioned having a brother...

Oh my GOD HE IS HER DAD

I CANNOT BELIEVE

GENTLEMAN BACKSTORY

I can’t believe I’m having Gentleman feelings

I wanna hug him

Oh god that’s so SAD

He sounds like he still kinda loves her too HELP ME

I’m CRRYYYYING

I’m really sad man

“She loves you. You should have trusted her. I don’t know... I don’t know how you guys could make it work or anything, but... [missed]. She’s never loved anyone since. Just you.”

Operation: Get Marion and the Gentleman Back Together.

TG: “Jester I’m not your father. Any man can have a child. Any man who isn’t around to help raise them doesn’t get to call themself a father.” Owww.

I think you should tell Marion and let her decide. She hasn’t had any say in all of this, I think it’s time she did.

I cannot believe I’m so emotional about the Gentleman.

Jester has this perfect little fairy tale for her parents and I’m literally just sitting here crying you guys

J: “Hey dad, next time I’m in town? Let’s play some Uno.” Crying and laughing and crying.

I stg if he and Marion don’t get their happy ending I’m gonna be SAD

Time to go after Yasha?

Oh dear...

Okay though if it’s addressed to Nott the Brave it’s not from Astrid

Maybe it’s from Caliana or someone again

The looks all the others are wearing

Like Beau’s face

This recording thing couldn’t possibly backfire at all xD

These hijinks omg

I can’t handle it first I’m worried then I’m emotional/crying about Jester and now I’m cracking up

Oh no oh god

Don’t hurt Pumat Sol Matthew I will not forgive you

oh my GOD MATT that PAUSE

Oh my god wait their lie somehow WORKED??

So she lives in Trent’s little compound essentially.

“Oh god it’s her” lol oh Pumat

I love him man he’s a soft boy

Oh dear...

Caleb getting overwhelmed mid trying to plan was excellent I love that call Liam

WHAT

PUMAT IS GONNA TRAVEL WITH THEM?

No no no what if he dies??

DO NOT GET MY COW MAN KILLED

it’s so sweet that he offered I ADORE HIM

I can’t believe he just straight up planned to come with them he was already packed

Like all these othe powerful allies are like “I’ll look into things while y’all do the actual dangerous work” and Pumat Sol is the one who decides he’s going to come and help

We stan two (2) cow men and they are Caduceus Clay and Pumat Sol

I’m really nervous about this though like heading to Rexentrum? Are they ready for this? Is CALEB ready for this??

Oh no Krynn attack that’s bad

I hope it’s not the Krynn

Call Essek find out

Oh god if they help stop the Krynn tho and it gets back to Xhorhas somehow

They’ll never see Essek again and I will CRY

I’m suuuuuper worried about Caleb

Like SUPER concerned look at his face he’s not at all prepared for this

This is definitely a false alarm there are no Krynn

Oh fuck what if Obann is coming for this Colbalt Soul

I am anxious

Go back down Caleb!

Why would you not go back up with the others

Nott, Nott HONEY

Not now!

It’s not the Krynn I will eat my hat if it’s really the Krynn

“Angel’s Eye” oh no

Cardinal Respa?

How far does this conspiracy spread I wonder

“The thing below and the path to it” fuck

“Diversions are already in place” knew it

Oh fuck

Pelor, the temple of the dawn father?

Oh shit they spent so much time in the happy fun ball that the timeline is messed up and this is happening NOW

Fuuuuuck

Oh god they are in it now

Like man even having warned so many allies it’s too late it’s happening NOW

I thought I was stressed last week but nope

Love you too Matt

IS IT NEXT THURSDAY YET?!

This episode in a nutshell: fighting an (immortal?) assassin; Jester’s dad; mail hijinks; TIME TO STOP THE END OF THE FUCKING WORLD

[chancellormatt]

Voltron Rewrite Episode Seventeen - A Black Day

Allura stares out of the shuttle viewport at the battle still raging outside. The shuttle is once again behind Coalition lines, which are now slowly retreating back from the colony planet. Energyfire tears back and forth between the two groups, as ships on either side continue to fall. Her eyes scan back and forth across the scene, as if searching for something.

The Atlas surges back to life, engine reviving in a flash of blue energy. “Atlas is back online!” Matt declares over the comm.

The Altas extends the blade from it's forearm and begins slashing apart encroaching galra ships. 

“Are we ready for retreat, then?” Ryner asks.

“Not yet! We’re still waiting on Shiro!” Matt replies.

“And Keith!” Lance says.

The Atlas lets loose an energy blast that destroys half a dozen galra ships. 

Nearby, the robeasts that were affected by the pulse begin to surge back to life as well. One moves for the Atlas and is knocked back by an arm blast. More rise to take its place. Soon the Atlas is battling half-a-dozen of the machines.

Allura watches it all, silently searching.

There is a sudden flash of light outside the viewport. Keith and Kosmo appear clinging to the outside of the shuttle. Allura stumbles back, agast. 

Another flash and they are both inside. Keith immediately collapses to the floor. Allura rushes down to his side, pulling off his helmet. Keith coughs, eyes distant.

“Keith! Are you alright!?”

He coughs again, holding his side. He gives a slight shake of his head.

“This is Princess Allura! I’ve got Keith!” Allura states over the comm.

“Took him long enough.” Lance says, mockingly.

“What about Shiro?” Pidge asks.

Keith’s eyes immediately widen before going dark. He stares at Allura for an eternal moment.

“No…” She whispers, seeing an answer in his eyes.

In spite of his wincing pain, Keith reaches one hand over to the other wrist, activating his comm.

“Shiro...is gone...” He takes a shuddering breath. “...dead.”

“WHAT!?” Comes the collective response of Lance, Pidge and Hunk.

“Keith, what the hell are you talking about!?” Matt exclaims.

“Zarkon...Zarkon killed him. I saw it.”

“That’s not…” Matt stammers.

“He…he’s gone?” Hunk says with disbelief.

“We’ve got to try going back!” Pidge says suddenly. 

“Yeah!” Lance agrees. “Maybe there’s a chance he-”

“I saw it!” Keith shouts. His eyes begin to well up.

“But we can’t just-”

“-Lance.” Allura cuts him off. “...now is the time to call the retreat. If we stay any longer the enemy will encircle us and we’ll all be trapped.”

The comm is silent for a moment. 

“...lets move out.” Lance finally says, voice without strength.

The whole of the Coalition forces move back. The Atlas lingers for a few moments, still holding back the robeasts.

“...Matt. We’ve got to go.” Pidge says carefully.

For a moment, the Atlas continues to strike down robests. Finally a string of obscenities comes from the mecha’s comm, followed by the Atlas turning back to join the retreat.

Inside the shuttle Allura lets out a breath, and slides to the floor beside Keith. Her eyes well up. Hesitantly, she reaches out to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He flinches, so she pulls back and sits silently beside him. He stares off into nothing, and begins to cry. 

It isn’t long before she is crying too.

***

Zarkon watches a feed of the Coalition ships as they retreat, then disappear. The holographic display vanishes, and he is left staring at the wall. He turns, watching a pair of galra soldiers, wrap up the body of Takashi Shirogane. His lifeless eyes stare at the ceiling before the bag finally zips up over his head.

Zarkon turns away, leaving the room. He walks with a slight limp, hand covering the spot where his armor was pierced. 

His path takes him down to the hangar, where the other Dark Paladins have already convened. Honerva and Sendak look equally impassive. Lotor, on the other hand, is pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Raimon sits on the floor, staring down at the sword in his lap.

They all stand at attention when they notice Zarkon approach. 

“That...was a disaster.” He says.

“I agree.” Lotor growls.

“Oh you do, do you?” Zarkon sneers. “Well you would know. After all, you had the simple task of making sure the prisoner didn’t escape!” 

Lotor’s eyes burn. “And she wouldn’t have if the dome had slayed closed! Last I checked, that was a job you decided to take upon yourself!”

“You will watch your tone with me boy!” Zarkon bellows in reply. “...and what you imply.”

“Why!? You berate us for failure and perceived betrayal! Rage at any miniscule mistake! But when you allow an enemy paladin to creep inside our fortress, pry it wide open and-”

“One more word! And you will find out what real rage is!” Zarkon’s hands curl into fists.

“Stop this.” Honvera says coldly, stepping between the two. “There is very much at stake here, and time for squabbling is one thing we lack.” Sendak steps up beside her. 

“Do not lecture me, woman!” Zarkon sneers. “If my boy is looking for a violent lesson, I will not deprive him of it!”

“I believe I have at least learned a moment of consideration on your part. From both of you.” She turns back to look pointedly at Lotor.

The Prince grits his teeth but says nothing and turns his gaze to the floor.

Zarkon is also silent for a moment. He gives curt gesture to continue. 

“...good. You know what our true goal is. You know that all of this theatre of war, these games, are nothing. Just a way of reducing the uncertainties. The array has been completed. I’ve run and rerun the numbers. The odds are in our favor. The time is now. The very structure of this reality will soon be at your fingertips. Shall we not forgo the games to finish what we started? To ignore these children?”

“...the problem is that all these ‘children’ are threatening to throw a wrench in the whole star-burned thing.” Lotor spat.

“Mind your tongue around your mother.” Zarkon says distractedly. He appears to be thinking. “...very well. Honerva, go to the array and prepare it for the robeasts. Sendak, marshall all our forces, we’re leaving this place behind and reallocating everything we have on defending the array. Lotor…”

He studies the Prince for a moment.

“...try to keep any more of your alteans from running away.”

Lotor stares up at his father. “...only if you make sure not to let any more of those ‘children’ get the better of you.”

The Emperor smiles. Lotor steps back, uneasy.

Zarkon’s Black Lion flies into the hangar, carrying the other Black Lion in it's jaws. It drops the other Lion onto the floor with a deafening clang. The other Dark Paladins stare.

“Got the better of me, did he?” Zarkon chuckles as he turns to walk away. 

He enters his lion and flies out of the bay.

Honerva lets out a breath. She turns to regard Lotor. “You know...your father’s temper is legendary. But you certainly seem to have inherited that trait.”

“I’m not like him!” Lotor’s scarred eye twitches. He turns away. “...not like him…” He continues to mutter the statement as he walks away. Honerva stares after him.

“Mistress?”

“Hm?” She turns to face Sendak, who is standing beside the powerless Black Lion.

“What shall we do with this?”

“Leave it there, for the moment. We can take it with us when we leave. As long as those other paladins don’t have it, they still can’t use Voltron.”

“Very well, Mistress. I shall see to our armies, then.”

“As you were.”

Both of them leave the Black Lion behind, dead and limp on the floor. 

***

Admiral Sanda watches as three of the Lions of Voltron and one shuttle touch down onto the rocky ground. One by one the paladins file out of their lions. 

Keith finally stumbled out of the shuttle, supported by Allura.

Sanda stepped forward to meet the downcast boy.

“...what happened?” 

***

“...I see. So you succeeded in your mission of saving the Princess. But you lost a Lion in the process.” Sanda says, addressing the paladins from within the briefing room. 

“And Shiro.” Keith says quietly, not looking up from the table.

“And Shiro.” Sanda repeats. She says nothing for a moment. 

“...without-” Allura’s voice cracks. “-without the Black Lion, we still cannot form Voltron.”

Sanda turns her back to them, to stare at the wall. “...so we’re back where we started.”

“No, we’re not back where we started!” Keith shouts, slamming his fists down on the table. “We’re much, much worse off! Because now Shiro is dead! ” Keith’s hands clench into fists. “And you really don’t seem to give a damn~”

Sanda replies cooly, still not facing him. “Lieutenant Shirogane was a soldier. He knew what he was getting into. He wasn’t the first one I’ve lost, and I suspect he will not be the last.”

“He wasn’t just a soldier!” 

“Boy you will watch your tone. We are still within my base. I understand you are emotional right now, but we will lose this fight if we don’t control our-”

“We’ll lose!?” Keith exclames. “We already have lost! We threw everything we had at Zarkon, and even Shiro couldn’t beat him!”

Keith stares down at the table for a moment, then storms out. He is quietly followed  by the other paladins.

Matt along with a few of the other Coalition officials remain.

“...what?” Sanda says, half-turning to Matt. “Nothing to say?”

Matt stares at her for a moment before shaking his head. 

“If...that’s the way you wanna play it...” He mutters, before getting up and leaving the room.

***

Keith marches down the corridor, darkness in his eyes.

“Hey, Keith!” Lance calls after him.

Keith keeps walking. 

“Keith!” Says Allura this time.

Still he doesn’t reply. Lance runs up and catches hold of his arm. “Hey!”

Keith turns on him. “What?”

“Don’t...don’t you want to talk about this, man? Shiro just-”

“Shiro just died, Lance. And talking about it isn’t going to bring him back.

“Yeah but we’re a team, we should-”

“Team? Maybe to all of you, that’s what Shiro was. A teammate. But for a long time, before I even knew my own mother, he was the only family I had. So if you don’t mind-” He pulls his arm free of Lance’s grasp. “-I’d like to be alone for a while.”

Keith walks off and the other paladins are left staring. 

“I...can’t believe he’s really gone.” Hunk says after a moment.

“It's a war Hunk, it was...bound to happen…” Pidge swallows hard.

“It's easy to say that, and understand the idea.” Allura says.   “But actually losing someone is so much different.  It feels like a hammer crushing your heart. It's a blow to the soul. And sometimes one that never fully heals...” She stares at the space where Keith used to stand.

Lance grits his teeth. “I know. That’s why we should all be dealing with this together.”

Hunk puts a hand on his arm. “It's Keith. This is just how he deals with stuff.”

Lance doesn’t reply for a moment. “...guess I just thought he was past leaving us all to fend for ourselves.”

Without another word, Lance turns and walks away in the opposite direction. 

Eventually, Hunk sighs. “I...think I could use a little time, too. He nods to the other two before walking off himself.

Allura still stares off in the direction Keith went.

“Hey,” Pidge says. “We’re all...still trying to process this. But how are you holding up, yourself? You were being held prisoner by Zarkon a few hours ago.”

“...anything that happened to me is nothing compared to Shiro’s death. There is...a great deal to discuss about my ‘stay’ with the Dark Paladins. But this is not the time. Now is the time for grief.”

“If...you say so.”

“Thank you for asking, Pidge.”

She waves a dismissive hand, before walking off. After another moment of silence, Allura walks, in the direction Keith went.

***

The Castle of Lions rises above the craggy horizon, dwarfing the Garrison base. Coran stands in it's shadow, massaging his mustache. 

“It's beautiful.” Allura says, stepping up beside him.

  “Thank you, Princess.” Coran sighs. “I just wish we could appreciate it under better circumstances. Shiro was...well he was a true paladin. He won’t be forgotten.”

“Yes he will be.” Allura agrees. “He was the man who always thought himself unworthy, but constantly proved otherwise…” 

She stares up at the Castle for a moment. “...Keith came by this way, didn’t he?”

“He did.” Coran nods.

“Do you know where he was headed?”

Coran nods to the Castle. “He wanted to know if the training room was operational.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“The truth. That it needs someone to test it out. He volunteered. And with the look on his face, I wasn’t about to turn him down.”

“Understandable.”

“You want to go talk to him?”

Allura considers. After a moment, she shakes her head. “...no. I’ll leave him be for the time being. As much I want to help Keith right now, I’m not ready. I’ve a bit more experience with death than the other Paladins. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. I’ve got to grieve just as he does. Besides…” Alllura notes a figure moving up the castle steps. “...I think someone else is on the job.”

***

Keith bashes his bayard against the gladiator bot’s staff. He swings his blade in a downward arc, like a hammer against an anvil. The bot’s legs buckle and it drops to the floor. Keith buries his bayard into the bot’s chest. The bot’s artificial muscles spasm, before it goes limp.

He stands in the middle of the Castle training room. The lighting is at a dim setting, leaving his face cast in deep shadows.

  Keith rips his blade free and shouts, “Another!”

A hole opens up in the floor, and another gladiator bot rises up. Keith dashes towards it, blade tearing across in a horizontal arc. He clashes against the bot a few more times before taking out one of its legs. Off balance, he easily disarms the machine and separates it's head from its body.

Scowling, Keith kicks the limp bot. 

“I think you got it.” A voice says from behind.

Keith whirls around to find Krolia standing near the entrance. He lowers his bayard. 

“I heard what happened.” She says, eyes soft.

“Who hasn’t?” Keith shrugs tiredly. “Another!”

“...do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? 

The floor opens up and yet another gladiator bot rises up from the floor. He charges after it. “...I went off to rescue Allura…” He says, his bayard locking against the bots staff. “...thought I was real smart by trapping Zarkon…” Keith forces the bot back, unleashing an onslaught of blows. “...only turns out I was the real one trapped!” The gladiator tries for a counter, but Keith knocks it aside and scores a hit on the bot’s shoulder. “And because I was too stupid, too overconfident and too weak, Shiro had to come save me.” Keith stabs his bayard through the bot’s head. The bot spasms and Keith pulls the blade free, letting it slide to the floor.

“...and then Zarkon killed him. Shiro died...because I wasn’t strong enough. Because I couldn’t beat Zarkon myself.”

Krolia steps up beside him. She doesn’t say anything at first, just joining him in staring down at the defeated bot. He opens his mouth as if to call for another one.

“-do you know what the two saddest days of my life were?”

Keith closes his mouth and gives a half-shake of his head.

“The first was the day I had to leave you and your father behind.” She gets a distant look. “It felt like I was leaving my heart behind. I never thought I’d ever feel so broken for the rest of my life. Until...until the day I found out your father died.”

Keith finally looks at her.

“That...that was like my heart being crushed. I’d left all those years ago to keep the two of you safe. But in the end he died anyway, and you were left alone. I couldn’t help thinking that I was wrong. That I should have stayed after all. And maybe if I had, your father would still be alive.”

“Maybe-” Keith’s voice cracks. “-maybe you should have.”

Krolia shrugs. “But that would have meant putting you in danger. I’ll never know what could have been. But I do know that I never was going to do anything that would risk your life. Even if...even if I knew I’d be leaving you all alone.” A bittersweet smile touches her lips. “But you weren’t alone were you? Not once Shiro found you. I was...so happy to find out that someone like him ended up looking after you. ”

Keith scoffs. “...but maybe that was his big mistake. Taking me in. Maybe if he hadn’t, he’d have found someone better to be his successor.” Keith's grip on his bayard tightens. “Someone stronger.”

“Even if I didn’t know him very well, I could tell how you meant to him. And I’m sure that if he were here right now, he’d tell you that he didn’t have a single regret. He saved you Keith, because he believed in you. And because he knew you could finish this.”

“But how!?” Keith demards. “We’ve thrown everything we have at them, and each tiny victory, every small win comes at a huge cost! I couldn’t even save Allura without losing Shiro and the Black Lion. We still can’t even form Voltron. And even if we could form Voltorn, I still don’t think I could beat him.”

“I don’t know Keith. I don’t have all the answers. But-

“-I...think I need some time to think.” Keith cuts her off.

Krolia studies him. “...alright.” 

She steps closer, hesitantly at first, then pulls him into a hug. “...I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you back then. And I’m so sorry that this war has taken so much from you. But just don’t forget that...I’m here now. And so are a lot of other people who care about you.”

Keith hugs her back, not replying.

For a moment they stand there in silent embrace.

Then Krolia steps back, releasing him. She takes one more look at her son, before walking out of the room. Keith stares down for a moment, then raises his bayard, the black bayard, to study it. 

“How am I supposed to do this without you, man?”

***

Pidge sits in the Holt family residence. She is on the couch, fidgeting with her hands. Matt lounges on another couch opposite her, eyes boring a hole in the floor. N-7 sits beside him, holding one of his arms.

Their parents are at the kitchen table, watching them with concerned expressions.

Pidge’s fidgeting grows more frantic. Her breath accelerates. She grits her teeth.

“This is wrong!” She shouts suddenly, launching to her feet. 

“Pidge!” Colleen exclaimes.

“Shiro shouldn’t have died! It just doesn’t...doesn’t make any sense.” She says the words exhaustedly. 

“Sometimes...these things don’t make sense.” Sam replies.

“But...If anyone deserved to live past all of this, it was him. After everything he pulled us through. All that he taught us. Every battle we won because of him. He deserved to live. It just...doesn’t add up.” She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think he even wanted to keep fighting. He gave up more than pretty much anyone, and just wanted to be able to leave it behind. But we wanted him out there.” She looks down at her hand. “...hell, I’m the one that made him a new arm.”

Sam chuckles. Pidge scowls. 

“Sorry.” Sam shakes his head. “But you’re crazy if you think that Shiro was ever actually going to sit back while the rest of you fought. Sure, he thought he was unfit and came up with plenty of reasons why he should leave things to you kids. But even if you hadn’t made him that arm, I doubt he would have been able to stand by forever. Sooner or later, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself. That’s just the kind of guy Shiro was.”

...I know that.” Pidge says reluctantly. “In my head. But it still feels so wrong. It's like an...equation that doesn’t have a solution.”

“Not every problem has a solution. I’m a lot older than you, Katie. Shiro’s not the first person I’ve lost along the way. Death isn’t something we scientists can fix. Sometimes all you can do is cry. And that’s okay.”

Pidge’s shoulders slump and she sits back. “But that just feels so...useless.”

“That’s life, kiddo. It's not a math problem.”

Pidge still looks unsatisfied, but she nods.

After a brief pause, Matt lets out a grunt.

“While sitting down and crying seems great and all…” he rises. “...I’ve got something to take care of.”

“What’s that?” Pidge asks.

N-7 also looks up with a curious tilt of her head.

“Don’t worry. Let’s just say I’ve gotta do something that Shiro would want me to do.”

N-7 nods in apparent understanding. With that, Matt leaves. 

***

Allura roams the halls of the garrison. She puts one foot in front of the other, as if the effort of walking is exhausting. Her path has no clear purpose. Her eyes are directed at the floor and have a distant light.

She almost runs into the door marking the end of the hallway. She hesitantly opens the door and peeks inside.

Inside is the mess hall, and at first glance it is empty. Allura is about to duck her head back out when something catches her eye. 

“Hunk? Is that you back there?”

Sure enough, Hunk is behind the kitchen counter on the far side of the room, working on something.

“Hey Allura.

  “What are you doing?” 

“It's late enough that there aren’t going to be any more meals served tonight, so I asked if I could use the kitchen. I spent some time with the family but…” He shakes his head. “They were doing their best to comfort me, but it got a little suffocating.”

“I see. Well don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Actually, I could use someone to test-taste all this.”

Allura hesitates, then after a moment, nods and walks over. Her eyes widen as he peeks over the counter.

“Stars above! How much did you make?

Before her are a plethora of cakes, cookies, muffins and other pastries and deserts of all kinds.

“A lot. Kinda been cooking nonstop.”

He hands her a piece of cake. She takes a large bite.

“How is it?” 

“Delicious as usual.” Allura smiles weakly and takes a seat on the bench behind her. “...at least that much hasn’t changed. You seem to be handling yourself well, in this most trying of time Hunk.”

“Well if it looks that way, it's just because I’m keeping myself busy. To be honest, I’m about this far away from a breakdown. Losing Shiro is...awful. But I can’t help thinking, does it end with him? Who else are we gonna lose before this is over?”

“Does...that mean you’re having second thoughts again?”

“No.” Hunk says immediately. “Even if I’m scared, even if I could die, I made my choice. I’m in this until the end.”

Allura smiles at that. 

“...so, any word on Keith?”

Allura shakes her head. “His mother spoke to him, but other than that, no one’s seen much of him. Last I checked he was hanging around the canyon…”

***

Keith guns the engine on his hoverbike. He tears off down the ridge, kicking up a storm of dust in his wake. He rides deeper into the canyon, no regard for his own increasing speed. The two sides narrow and Keith makes the jump to the other side. His hoverbike bangs against the wall of the other side. He rides on. 

He drives his bike back up to the top of the ridge, racing towards the cliff. Keith goes full throttle on the engine. It flies off the cliff, hovering in the air for a few quiet seconds. Then it dips back down, and Keith hugs his body against the bike. At the bottom, he can see the knife-shaped rock. 

Keith hits the brakes. 

The bike slows in the air, but not fast enough. The bottom of it smashes against the stone below. Keith’s body is rocked and he struggles to hang on. The engine sputters and gives out. The hoverbike crashes down to the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust. Coughing, Keith tries to reignite the engine. It wines for a moment, before giving out again. 

Growling, Keith jumps off the hoverbike to look beneath it. The vehicle's undercarriage is severely dented, and smoke is leaking out of cracks. 

“DAMMIT!” Keith swears, kicking the bike. He kicks it again and again. Finally panting, he turns away, putting his back to the broken bike. 

The knife-shaped rock lies in front of him. The same one that had served as the finish line for Shiro and his races. The bike broke down barely a dozen feet away from it. 

Keith stares at it a moment, before shaking his head and turning back around again, to walk back up the canyon.

Sometime later, an exhausted Keith pulls himself up onto a ledge, to sit down and stare at the setting sun.

***

Admiral Sanda sits alone in her dark office. The only light on in the room is a small lamp on her desk. She stares down at the small disc in her hands. 

Matt Holt kicks open her door.

Sanda leaps to her feet. “Holt! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Matt’s face remains expressionless as he sizes up the room, noting it's dark interior, observing everything except Sanda herself.

Her eyes harden. “If you do not explain yourself right now, I’ll have you thrown off this base! I don’t care how you rank in that Coalition I’ll-”

“-you can fool all these other people, Sanda.” Matt shakes his head. “Make them think you’re this iron-hearted commander, who only cares about results. But there are two people who you could never fool. I’m one of ‘em. The other is dead.”

Sanda’s expression loses some of its strength. “...you’ve got something to say, I take it?”

“Not much. Shiro was like a brother to me. And that cuts deep. But I know that despite how you might pretend that none of this hurts you, he was like a son to you. And I’m not about to let you sit in this dark room all alone, without talking about that.” 

Sanda swallows hard, staring down into her desk. 

“Annnnd just in case you needed a little convincing, I heard that Shiro owed you a bottle of some of the hard stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t have any scotch but…” Matt holds up a bottle of purple liquid that glows softly. “...I do have this galran ale. Tastes like jet fuel and gives you a mother of all headaches in the morning. In other words, it's good stuff.”

“...I’m on duty.” Sanda objects, without much strength.

Matt puts on a confused expression. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you got off five minutes ago.”

Sanda stares at him for several silent moments. “...shut the door.”

Matt grins, shutting the door behind him. He sits down across Sanda while she pulls out two glasses. 

Matt fills them both.

***

“Well why why the hell not!?” 

Allura is walking down a hallway when she hears the exclamation. She quickens her pace and finds the source of the outburst from around a corner. 

Lance is having what looks like a heated debate with Kolivan and a handful of other Blades. 

“As I’ve told you,” Kolivan says with just a hint of aggravation, “the logistics of one of our operatives stealing back the Black Lion is outlandish. It's reportedly being held in our enemy’s most secure compound-”

“-Which we just broke into!”

“...yes, using methods that will not work twice, and in the process of which we lost the Lion in question.”

“What is...going on here?” Allura asks, tentatively.

“Well I’m trying to get to the bottom of why these superspy space-ninjas, that Keith likes to spend so much time around, won't bother trying to get back the Black Lion!” 

“None of our men can fly the Black LIon. it wont fit inside a fighter or shuttle. The few operatives we have still implanted would need to steal a cruiser full of hundreds of galra soldiers just to be able to carry the blasted thing!”

“I’m hearing a whole lot of excuses, and not a lot of solutions!”

“Lance.” Allura says in a kind but firm tone. “I’m sure that Kolivan knows what he is talking about when he says that something isn’t possible. The Blades aren’t known to back down from a challenge.”

“Rest assured, getting back the Black Lion is our top priority. But at this moment there’s no clear way to do that. We’ll find out what Keith wants to do once-”

“Once he’s done sitting around moping, you mean!”

“Lance!” Allura scolds.

“What!? Last I checked we were still fighting a war!”

“We all need time to-”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have!”

“Then what do you want us to do, Lance? Do you have any idea what to do about the current situation? Because we all know what kind of situation we’re in. But shouting at people isn’t going to make anything better.”

He opens his mouth to speak, then seems to think better of it. He sighs.

“...sorry.” He directs it at both Allura and Kolivan.

“It’s alright.”

“Think I’ll...go to the shooting range. Clear my head.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Lance starts to walk down the hallway, but stops halfway down, with his back still to Allura.

“...any word from our fearless leader yet?”

“Afraid not.”

“Figures…” 

***

“That man...was the greatest pilot to ever serve in the Garrison.” Sanda remarked, with slightly slurred words.

“I’ll drink to that.” Matt says, downing the rest of his glass. 

He pours himself some more, taking note of just how little liquid there is left in the bottle.

“You know he thought I’d be mad, the day he broke my record on reentry?”

Matt chuckled. “Were you?”

“Hell no. That was one of my proudest moments as an instructor. Of course...I couldn’t let him know that. So I told him it was a little sloppy and put him on cleaning duty for the rest of the day.”

“And you call me a piece of work.”

“Oh he was fine. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get a big head. You gotta be careful with people as talented as Shiro. Otherwise they get overconfident and…” 

“Turn out like me?”

“...yeah.”

Both of them chuckled at that. Sanda’s face quickly gets serious again.

“He should be in this chair right now. Always wanted him to take over.”

“Shiro? Behind a desk? You’d have had a hell of a time keeping him out of a cockpit.”

“Yeah. It was probably a pipe dream, anyway. I’m just so tired. Tired of seeing good men die. Tired of sitting in this damn chair.”

“...then why do you still do it?” Matt asks.

“Because someone’s got to.” She shrugs. “And because my best idea for a successor went and got himself killed. I know I’m...a little hard on my pilots.”

Matt scoffed,

“But that’s because I expect great things from them. Was I really so bad to serve under? Did you really hate being my subordinate so much you never even considered coming back?”

Matt shakes his head studying his drink. “Sanda you’re a good commander. Whatever barbs I throw at you, they’re just because it's fun getting on your nerves. Ask Pidge, I do it to her all the time. The reason I didn’t come back was because I knew I could do more good with the Coalition than I could down here. Serving in the Galaxy Garrison was an honor. But there’s people that need me more now. More than just earth. And besides...” He laughs to himself. “...I’m impatient. Do you have any idea what it's like to go from our shuttles to starship with FTL drives? Who in their right mind would wanna go back after that jump?”

Sanda chuckles, then studies him for a moment. “...I want you piloting the Atlas. Permanently.”

“You’re letting the drink talk for you.”

“I’m serious. It hurts to swallow my pride, this much but you are undoubtedly the man for the job. The coalition trusts you, and I trust you. You’re perfect. Shiro said so himself.”

“Now that’s just cheating.” Matt says, leaning back in his chair. He downs his drink again. “...fine. But don’t think I’m gonna suddenly start saluting you again.”

Sanda only smirks. 

Her eyes fall on the small disc, sitting on her desk. 

“You want some more?” Matt asked, indicating the bottle.

Sanda shakes her head. “No.I think I’ll sober up. There’s something I’ve been putting something off…”

***

Keith stares up at the stars, feet dangling over the edge of the cliff. He looks to be searching for something in the night sky. He doesn’t find it.

The sound of footsteps prompts Keith to tear his gaze away from the stars. 

“Have you been out here all night?” Allura asks, walking up to stand beside him.

He nods.

“You should get some sleep. You took a beating in that battle.”

“Tried to. Didn’t take.” 

Allura nods. “...do you mind if I sit here?”

“Depends. Are you going to try to tell me this isn’t my fault?”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything, actually.”

“Then have a seat.”

She does so, folding her legs beneath her.

For some time they sit in silence. A cool breeze brushes against them. Crickets chirp in the distance. A comet cuts across the night sky. 

After what seems like an eternity, Keith speaks. 

“...you know what the worst part is?”

Allura blinks, caught off guard. “...what?”

“I...keep expecting him to come by and give one of his famous speeches. He’ll tell me what I’m doing wrong, encourage me to trust in myself, and assure me that I’ll do just fine. And then, everything will seem okay. Whatever misgivings I had before will just melt away...” 

Allura says nothing, only staring at Keith as he talks.

“...but that’s not going to happen. He’s gone. I’ll never get to hear one of those speeches again.” He picks up a stone and tosses it over the side. “So maybe you can tell me what I’m supposed to do. Do I just push all this pain aside and try to forget it? Tell the other paladins that everything’s going to be okay? That as long as we believe in each other, we’ll overcome anything? I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t think I’m strong enough to just let go of what I’m feeling.”

“...I wish I could tell you, Keith.” Allura says. “I wish I knew what to say, to make this right. But sometimes there just aren’t words. There’s nothing I can say that’ll make what’s happened better. I know that better than anyone.” Her eyes get distant.

It's Keith’s turn to study her. “...does it get easier?”

“...yes. Eventually.” She smiles weakly. “When altea was destroyed, I lost my father, my mother and everyone else I ever knew. It was just me and Coran when we went into cryo. Then, when I woke up there were five strange earthlings waiting for us. And I had no way of knowing they’d turn out to be the best friends I ever had. In the early days, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of everyone I’d lost. But you made it easier. All of you. You and Lance and Pidge and Hunk...and Shiro.”

Keith looks caught between smiling and crying.

“So yes, Keith. It does get easier. Especially if you’ve got the right people to pick you back up again, after the fall.”

Keith stares into Allura’s eyes, and for what seems an eternity, neither says a word. Finally, he looks away. 

“...you look tired Allura. You should get some sleep.”

“...only if you do too.”

“I will.” He says. “I’m just gonna stay out another minute.”

“Alright. Good night, Keith.”

“Good night, Allura.”

With that, Allura gets up and leaves. Keith doesn’t stay much longer. He gets up, tosses another stone down into the canyon, and turns around to walk back to the base. 

***

Keith is walking back down the garrison halls, when he nearly runs into Admiral Sanda.

“Keith.” She says with some surprise. “You’re still awake...good.”

“What is it?” He sighs.

Sanda stares at him for a moment, as if deciding something. She holds something tight in one hand. Letting out a breath, she opens her hand, presenting it to Keith. 

He looks down with curiosity, at the disc in her palm.

“What is it?”

“Do you know what a Last Word is, Keith?”

“It's...an Old Garrison tradition, right? When a pilot was going on an especially dangerous mission, they’d leave a message behind, just in case they didn’t make it.”

She nods, then indicates the disc. “This is Shiro’s.”

“You mean-”

“One last message he recorded, not long before the battle. To be seen in the event of his death. It's for you.”

Keith’s eyes widened. 

“Go on then, take it.”

Tentatively, Keith reaches down and picks up the disc. He turns it over in his hands, feeling it’s weight. 

Sanda looks down at her boots. “I’m sorry I held onto it so long. I suppose I felt like giving this to you meant it was real. Foolish, I know. But I guess I’m getting sentimental with age.”

Keith looks at her as if seeing Sanda for the first time. “It's...alright. I understand wanting to hold onto the piece of him.”

She nods slowly. “...well then. I’ll leave you to it.”

And with that Sanda vanishes back down the darkened corridor. Keith is left staring at the disc. He starts walking. 

It doesn’t take him to find a dark room with dozens of computers. He sits down at one, and turns it on.

Keith holds the disc up, staring at it. He lets out a long sigh and inserts the disc into the computer. For a moment nothing happens.

Then, Shiro’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro smiles. “If you’re watching this...well, I’m dead.”

Keith swallows hard. 

“Sorry about that.” Shiro gets a bashful expression. “Hope I at least went out like a champ. Doing something heroic, you know? Anyway, I made this video for you specifically, for a couple of reasons. Firstly because there’s some things that I need to tell you from one leader to another. And secondly, because some of this might be hard to hear….” 

Shiro takes a breath.

“...it's honestly a shock I lived as long as I did. This might be strange to hear, but for a while now it’s seemed like I’m on borrowed time. And I’m not just talking about having my soul pulled out and stuffed into a clone body. Although that..that didn’t help.” Shiro shivers. “...no this goes back much farther. Sanda could tell you all sorts of stories about how I almost got myself killed pulling crazy maneuvers back in the Garrison. But if I had to pinpoint when I first started feeling this way, it’d be when Sam, Matt and I were taken by the galra. Fighting in the pits, not knowing if next day would be my last…” He shakes his head. “...I thought I was going to die there. By all accounts, I should have. But fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it had other plans. Somehow, impossibly I ended up back on earth. And I became the Black Paladin. I had the job just long enough to make sure you could all do it without me. If there’s a reason I lived past everything I did, I think that’s it. To make sure all of you were ready to face what came next.”

He smiles and shakes his head. Keith’s hands tighten as he struggles to keep any sense of composure. 

“And, in spite of everything I just said, there’s a part of me that really wishes I could have stayed in the Black Paladin, forever. Being a part of Voltron is the best thing that ever happened to me. And I cherish all the time I spent fighting in Voltron alongside you, Lance, Hunk and Pidge...but that’s the hard part of being a mentor. Knowing that one day, you’re going to have to step aside and let someone else take over. I know you’ve always wondered why I picked you to lead Voltron. It might seem kind of strange, since you always were such a loner. Well it was because out of everyone on that team, I knew you’d be able to take whatever the universe throws at you. No matter whatever grief or anger you’re feeling right now, I know you can get past it. Because you’re the toughest dang kid I ever met. Voltron’s yours now, Keith. And if any part of you ever questions that, I’ll tell you a secret that I think might make it a little easier:” Shiro grins. “Black was never really my color anyway.”

Keith’s eyes are wet, but for the first time since Shiro’s death he cracks a smile.

Shiro takes a breath. “Keith, this is my last lesson to you. I know you better than anyone else. Which is why I know you’re probably reacting to all by isolating yourself, and trying to shut the rest of the world out. That’s not your fault. You’re human. But you also aren’t the only one that’s going to be hurt by this. You’ve got a lot of people relying on you now. They need you Keith. And even if you don’t want to admit it, you need them too. Take it from me, it hurts a lot more to hold onto this stuff inside, than it does to let it out. They care about you, so let them in. It takes five to form Voltron. ”

Shiro sighs. “And now the hardest part. Goodbyes. Assuming I don’t get a chance, tell everyone that these past few years were the time of my life. I’m proud of how far each and every one of them has come. Especially you.” Shiro gets a distant smile. “Never got a chance to start a family of my own, but in a way that’s what you all were, to me. A family. And if ever had gotten a chance to have a son...I’d have wanted him to be like you. Goodbye, Keith. It's been a hell of a ride.”

The screen goes dark. The room goes silent.

“...look at that.” Keith says, tears streaming down his face. “You had one last speech in you, after all.”

He closes his eyes and sits back in the chair. “Thank you for everything, Shiro.” He whispers. “And goodbye.”

When his eyes open, they are filled with determination.

At the same time, millions of light-years away, inside the dome on the colony planet, the Black Lion’s eyes flash. 

***

Lance blasts his rifle at the shooting range targets. About half of his shots miss entirely. Curiously, the other half either hit or are near the bullseyes. Lance keeps firing regardless of whether he hits or not.

“You know I could make you a new stabilizing bracelet.” Pidge says, approaching Lance from behind.

He half-turns to acknowledge her, then returns to facing the targets.

“It's fine. I’m sure you’ve got more important stuff to work on.” Lance fires at another target, missing entirely.

Pidge cringes.

“...it was getting better.” Lance explains. “Before...well you know.”

He fires again. Another miss.

“...you know what ticks me off?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re about to tell me?”

“The fact that no one else around here seems to remember that we’re fighting a war!” Another shot, another miss. “Shiro’s dead, yeah. But that doesn’t mean the bad guys are gonna stop working on their plan. We need the Black Lion back asap, or we aren’t gonna be able to stop them. We don’t have time to wait for Keith to get over the fact that Shiro’s gone.”

“Uh huh. And you are?”

“Huh?”

“You are over Shiro’s death already?”

“I’m trying to be practical.”

“No, I think you’re trying to fix a problem, so you don’t have to think about what happened. I know ‘cause my head was in the same place yesterday.”

“Oh yeah, and since when are you a master of psychology?”

“I’m not a master of psychology. Just a master of Lance being a doofus.”

“Wow, so now I’m an idiot for trying to actually deal with the problem at hand?”

“I didn’t mean…” Pidge sighs. “...I’m just saying I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, right now. None of us are. Some problems don’t have solutions.”

Lance hesitates. Then his eyes harden. “No...but I just thought of one for this one.”

He deactivates his bayard and marches out of the room. Pidge’s eyes widen. 

“Lance?” She calls after him. “Oh quizank. Lance!” 

She runs after him. Lance continues down the hallway, walking with a determined gait.

“Lance, what are you doing?” She says, running up next to him. 

“We need the Black Lion, or we won't be able to form Voltorn. So then I’ll just take Red and go get it.”

Pidge blinks. Then stares. “You...you’re serious.”

“Sure am.”

“Lance that’s suicide!” 

“Who says. Whatever anyone else around here believes, I’m actually a good pilot.”

“It's not a matter of skill, it's a matter of being literally impossible! We barely broke into the place with an entire fleet at our back! It would be insane to try it by yourself!”

“And that’s why they’ll never see it coming.” Lance quickens his pace, and Pidge has to struggle to keep up with the much longer-legged boy.

Some ways behind them, Hunk rounds a corner, looking curious.

“What’s going on, guys?”

“Lance is trying to do something stupid!” Pidge calls over her shoulder.

“Uh oh.”

Hunk starts to give chase as well. 

Lance kicks open the exit door and strolls out. 

It's raining outside. Clouds darken the sky, as their payload is released down to earth. The falling droplets beat against the four remaining lions, sitting in a row on the mud-covered ground. Lance moves towards Red. 

Pidge and Hunk follow on his heels. 

Pidge accesses her comm. “Allura you’d better get out here. Lance is about to take his lion and go after Black!”

“...wha..what!?” A groggy voice replies.

“Just hurry!” 

Pidge catches Lance’s sleeve. “Lance!” 

He stops in his tracks, frozen.

“Just...give this a second.” Desperation is thick in her voice. 

“We don’t need to lose anyone else, Lance.” Hunk says. “Take a minute to calm down.”

Lance doesn’t reply.

“If you rush off like this…” Pidge has to take a moment to marshal her voice. “I...I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Yeah...well I don’t want people to die either!” He pulls his arm free. “So I’m going after Black. Because that’s the only way we have a chance of beating Zarkon!”

He starts walking towards Red again. 

The door opens behind them and Allura stumbles back, looking disheveled.

“What is going on here!?”

“I’m going to do what needs to be done!” Lance calls back.

Allura looks to the other two for support, but they return helpless expressions.

“No one, is going anywhere...” A low but commanding voice says.

All turn to see Keith standing a few dozen feet to the side. He walks over, trudging through the mud.

“...not without thinking everything over, and coming up with a real plan for how to beat Zarkon.” 

He stops in front of Lance, blocking his path to the Red Lion.

“Well look who finally decided to show up!” Lance exclames.

“I haven’t been around. I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”

Lance’s expression softens for a fraction of a second, before he shakes his head with anger. “Well, you’re a little late. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go get the lion you left behind.”

Lance tries to step around Keith, but he moves to block him again.

“It's being taken care of Lance. So please, stand down.”

Lance scowls. “Maybe I don’t want to follow the orders of a guy who only decides to be our leader when it's convenient for him!”

Keith winces at that.

Lance brushes past him, but Keith catches his arm.

“...let go.” Lance’s voice is ice.

“I’m not going to let yourself get killed, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes flash with anger. 

He whirls around and punches Keith in the face.

The other paladins gasp. Keith stumbled back, looking shocked.

Even Lance looks down at his outstretched fist, as if not believing what he’d just done.

Then, Keith’s eyes harden. “Fine, if it's a fight you want.” 

Keith whips a lightning-fast jab that takes Lance in the chin. Lance falls back, flood slipping under the wet ground. He goes down on one knee. Keith doesn’t press, seeing if Lance will stay down. He doesn’t. Eyes burning with rage, Lance launches himself at Keith. 

“Keith!” 

“Lance!” 

Allura and Pidge yell respectively, moving to dash towards the boys. They are stopped by Hunk grabbing hold of both of them. 

“Hunk what are you doing?” Pidge demands.

“We need to stop this madness!” Allura objects.

Hunk doesn’t say anything at first, still watching the two boys swing punches at each other.

“Why are you fighting now, Keith? Don’t you just want to run away like you always do!? Like when you left to be with the Blades!?”

“I never ran from anything, Lance! I only ever did what I thought was right for this team!”

“Well you were wrong!” Lance tackles Keith to the muddy ground.

“...no.” Hunk finally says.

“No!?” the girls exclaim in unison. 

“No.” Hunk decides nodding to himself.

“They’ll kill each other!” Allura says.

“No, no they wont. Even if they’re a little emotional right now, they aren’t that dumb. There’s been a fire burning between those two since the moment they met. It’s been cooling down lately, since they’ve both been acting more mature. But now with Shiro gone it's been reignited. Everything’s raw, and they aren’t holding back anything anymore. They need to work this out now, or they’ll never be able to understand each other.”

The girls look like they want to continue to object, but Hunk remains impassive. Reluctantly, they stop resisting, and watch their friends fight.

Keith is trying to pull Lance into a headlock, but he keeps twisting free, slicked by the mud. 

“Why couldn’t you just let me go, Keith!?” Lance says shoving his hand into Keith’s face. “I was trying to save the day for once!”

“Because dammit Lance, you’re acting like me!” Keith grabs Lance’s wrist and uses it to twist his arm back, pushing Lance down into the mud.

“And what’s that!?” Lance grunts.

“Like an idiot!”

“At least we can agree on that!” Lance manages to twist free of Keith’s hold, and knees the other boy in the side. Keith rolls back and it’s Lance's turn to try and pull off a headlock.

“Be honest…” Keith says, voice straining from Lance’s arm against his windpipe. “You always h-hated me. N-never...could stand how much better I was.” Keith elbows him in the gut once, twice, then three times. Lance’s grip weakens and Keith breaks it entirely, before shifting around to try to swing at his face.

  Lance catches his arm, and forces Keith back down to the ground.

“Hate you? Keith, I wanted to be you! You were so good it was stupid! All I ever wanted was to prove I could be as good as you were! And then you go and become the leader, and I actually believed in you! I had no idea you’d run away to the Blades the first time it got hard!” 

Keith kicks Lance off him and lurches to his feet.

“I came back didn’t I?” 

“Yes, and that’s the worst part! I actually thought you were different now! But without Shiro you just turned back into the same brooding loner from before!”

“Well I’m sorry my grieving was so inconvenient for you Lance! I wish I had the privilege of not having to care that Shiro’s gone!”

“You aren’t the only one that misses him!” Lance bellows, throwing a punch at Keith’s head.

Keith sweeps Lance’s legs, but the other boy drags too. They both hit the ground hard, breath leaving their bodies.

“I know Lance!” Keith shouts, panting. “....I know. And...I’m sorry.”

Neither make a move towards the other. They both stay down, panting.

“...I’m not the best leader. Maybe not even a good one. But I’m trying, Lance. And I’m not going to stop trying, even if I keep screwing it up. It’s why…” He laughs hysterically. “...it's why I’m lying here in the mud with you right now.”

Lance doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“...you know I thought bringing the Black Lion back would break you out of what you were going through….but you couldn’t even let me have that could you?”

Keith chuckles at that. “...sorry to disappoint.”

Lance shakes his head. “I really am an idiot aren’t I? Did I really think I was going to go charge through the enemy’s army and bring back Black? And I was mad at you for not handling Shiro’s death well? Couldn’t even give you a few days of peace.”

“No, you were right. It probably wouldn’t have come to this if I’d been open with all of you from the beginning.”

“And miss this epic fight of ours?”

Both laugh, then wince. The droplets of rain start to fall away as the sky overhead begins to clear. 

Seeing that the fight is over, Allura, Pidge and Hunk rush over.

“Are you alright!?” Allura asks, holding Keith’s head. He nods and she helps him up to a sitting position.

Pidge also helps Lance up. Then she punches him in the side.

“Ow!” 

“Idiot.” She scolds.

“...fair enough.” He sighs.

“You two get everything out you wanted to?” Hunk asks.

Both nod.

“Good...so I guess now we need to think of an actual plan to get the Black Lion back.”

“Actually…” Keith says, looking up. 

Lance squints up at a dark spot in the sky that is growing larger. His eyes widened.

Seconds later, the Black Lion smashes down into the stone just a few feet away.

“...how?”

“A trick I learned from Zarkon. If he can control his Lion without being inside so can we. But I only unlocked the ability...after I saw Shiro’s Last Word.”

Everyone is silent for a minute.

“...you know It's kind of funny,” Lance finally says. “Shiro was always the one too keep us from being at each other’s throats. Guess we kind of missed the point when we ended up fighting over him.”

Keith cracks a smile. “He probably wouldn’t be too surprised. We always did take too long to learn his lessons.”

“Yeah, just think about how long it took us to form Voltron for the second time!” Hunk points out.

“Allura shouting at us sure didn’t help.” Pidge puts in with a coy smile.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Allura says in mock offense. “But it must have been awfully hard for them to connect with someone they didn’t even know was a girl!”

“Most of them did, besides Lance over here.”

They all laugh. Keith smiles.

  “Do you guys remember when Shiro got so mad because…”

From a distance away, Krolia watches the group.

Coran steps up beside her. “They’re more resilient than you might think, that lot.”

Krolia smiles. “I was worried about Keith. He had to deal with so much alone and I wasn’t there. I thought without Shiro he’d find himself alone again. But it looks like I was wrong. He’s found himself a great family to rely on, after all.”

With that, she turns on her heel, leaving the kids to talk and laugh and cry about their times with their fallen friend.

[animalexpert]

Wlrs; XI

I really love talking with one of my friends a lot, when I’m chilling with him I know I can bring up the most abstract thought or idea and he’ll be able to bounce back at me with something else to think about or something to help me expand the thought I’m having. We were talking recently about how every event or action is just the consequence, good or bad, of an amalgamation of other actions and events, and thinking about it, time can kinda of be described this way. It isn’t actually a non tangible constantly moving energy like my brain wants to perceive it as, but just an explanation for events prior leading to those current and predicting that which follows. It is cool though, but our brains even break the concept of time for us, we dream in a time free realm, it’s amazing the confines I can break out of when dreaming, maybe I can lucid dream again sometime, I’d love to actually fly this time, interesting how my dreams skip around time and space so casually yet the concept of flying is too hard to achieve when I’m conscious inside my own dream. Maybe because my ideas of how I would fly are influenced by super heroes and fantasy visuals I have in my head, so I don’t fly how I actually should in a dream, why do I even want to fly so bad in a lucid dream? There’s probably so many cool things to do, I wonder if I could travel the world as I know it, could I visit what my brain knows the Taj Mahal to be in a dream? Or would my faulty imaging break the strength of my lucidity and I’d fall back to reality. So cool to think about, I love talking about these things, anything whack, I wanna know about the weird shit. And brains are fuckin crazy, at least mine is.

I haven’t been very much in control of my dreams lately, even though I’m fascinated by the idea of having it. I’ve been dreaming about her more lately, I think it has something to do with work, not her and work being related at all, just that with work leaving me real beat some nights my sleep is much more intense and I hit my deep sleep cycles. But I don’t have anyone to share them with, I don’t even care about the taboo I was feeling anymore, I really just want to talk to her, but I don’t think she even cares anymore, rightfully. I wish I would’ve met her at the point that morning just to talk, I still wish I sent the letters, what am I going to do with them if I move? Just fucking stash these raw ass letters, do I really burn them, I don’t even know how to let go tbh. I dreamt that we built a chicken coop next to the woods because we wanted to have fresh omelets right from our back yard, I saw myself with the most raw smile, a chick was chasing her around the fence line around the coop while she laughed with joy, she named it Bach, it makes me smile lol, I’ve had this image come back to my head for days now. 

Every day I work I drive down roads of my past, I see events that led to actions that led to more events that brought me to each day I now exist. I pass the small church that her and I found a small shed on the back off and tucked ourselves into to smoke a joint on a beautiful snowy night. And I smile, and I think about the fight we had a short time after, and I still smile, because all of this taught me more than I could imagine when I look back at it. I pass and sometimes stop at the Royal Farms that we walked into high as fuck off shrooms, remembering how fucking crazy we were, sitting on a highway overlook weed in our bags tripping heavy, just living our wild ass life. I pass the spot our boards connected into a heart and feel happy to know that I could have ever had love in the way I felt about her. Maybe I should go a different way to work, but I would have to hit so many lights any other way. And like I’ve tried to look past so many times, I don’t even want to forget. What I really want is to show her this new album I’m digging on and laugh and talk with her while we’re chilling laying back on a park table looking at the sky. I wonder if having the windows open and the rain sound pecking at my ears has anything to do with the vibe I’m in right now, it’s not bad at all it’s actually quite nice. I’m in like a bittersweet kinda mood so it could make sense.

Two of my closest friends are going away this weekend and I wanted to go so bad but one work shift stopped me from being able to. Work holds way too much significance in our plans and lifestyle, and it fucks me up. I was talking to my other friend that I love talking to about it recently as well. People should not work as much as they do, I don’t think I ever plan to work 40 hour weeks doing something I’m not incredibly passionate for again. Selling pulls in a decent chunk of money and I’ve been able to consistently find good non set hourly wage work which I prefer. I had a job opportunity working commission in a marketing firm but I really don’t want to do that if I’m not selling something that I believe in, even if it made good money. I hate selling shit to people that they don’t or barely need. I would open up a restaurant, I’ve talked about it with several friends and they all push for it. A weed & feed style thing, I’ve been making some top tier dishes lately though, I made the best french onion soup I’ve ever had the other day. My friend Matt literally cleaned out two bowls, I barely had to wash the crocks, even the baked on cheese was clean removed from the sides lol. I’d also be down to be a personal chef, I’ve thought about that too. I honestly enjoy the fuck out of cooking and I could use my own fresh grown vegetables and eggs. Maybe even my own home grown avocados someday, that reminds me I need to get another bigger pot for my avocado it is growing crazy.

I don’t even know where I’m at lately, I wish I could talk about this stuff more but I barely even feel comfortable talking about it here and I’m not even fully disclosing all my feelings :/ At least I feel like I’m in a healthier spot, both mentally and physically, I’ve been boarding and catching Pokemon at the two new stops they opened up on the path near my house, and also working decently long days, I’ve been feeling less tired and more like I want to do things, which is a fucking godsend compared to just wanting to blob out everyday. I think I’m gonna catch up on my health and then reevaluate other parts of my life, cause it feels nice to be an existing human again. I haven’t played video games in like 4 days too, I’ve just been busy with friends and work and events, feels kinda nice, although I’m also excited to E-flex with Khazix one day soon.

[garrettsiwicki]

The Gandrew Conundrum

Or better named, the post where I talk out of my ass. Okay, so let me preface this by saying I am in no way claiming any of this is true. This is just a point of view my brain has created from what we’ve seen or headcanon’d about Garrett and Andrew. I don’t truly know anything about Garrett, Andrew, or anyone relating to them. This is just my opinion of where I personally see them right now. If you wanna take it seriously, okay. If you wanna take it as a headcanon and have fun with it, okay. It’s all in good fun and not meant to be taken as gospel. If anything just run with it for fanfics or something. :) 

 So anyway, here is my analysis/headcanon/conspiracy/whatever about Gandrew. It’s not all fluff and cuteness, so keep that in mind. I tried to write it as down to earth as possible. Enjoy. ❤️

Garrett. I think his feelings/situation is a bit more straight forward than Andrew’s. Garrett has openly said “if I was a girl, i’d put a ring on it [Andrew]” and has joked about being in love with one of his straight friends before (the friend who made him that bike). So it’s pretty likely he harbors some kind of feelings for his “dear close sweet handsome friend” Andrew, whom he appears to be closer and spend more time with. I think Garrett does have feelings for Andrew, and I think he knows he has feelings for Andrew, but of course Andrew (at least to Garrett’s knowledge) is his “straight guy” friend and obviously you can’t just announce that you, a gay person, have feelings for your “not-gay” friend. Hell, it’s difficult to announce you have feelings for your best friend when you’re in a straight relationship. Adding conflicting sexualities to that makes a whole new layer of confusion. Because of this possibility/fear I think Garrett has resigned himself to accepting that it’ll always be something fantasy, that he shouldn’t allow himself to entertain the thought because it’ll “never happen” and he’s just the “silly” gay friend who fell in love with his straight friend. 
(I’m not calling Garrett silly, it’s not silly at all, but he may think that) I think if Andrew showed interest toward a relationship, if it was totally Andrew’s decision to open up about it and pursue something, then Garrett would have no problem pursuing some kind of relationship. But of course, like I said, Garrett is not ready to start this conversation himself. (Note: When I say Garrett doesn’t fully acknowledge it, i’m not saying Garrett can’t brag on or compliment Andrew. He does those things all the times and we all see how smitten he is, i’m just saying he won’t go to Andrew and verbally tell him “I LIKE YOU ROMANTICALLY” lol) 
 Now for Andrew. 
 Andrew’s feelings are a bit harder for me to pin point, largely due to the fact i’m not 100% sure how to explain what I mean, and also my opinion is known to jump back and forth, but nevertheless i’ll try to make this sensible. 
 (A lot of this explaining has to do with discovering yourself/being closeted/etc so keep that in mind.) I think Andrew identifies as straight, and therefor is assumed straight by those around him, but I also feel like he’s never been dead-set on it. And what I mean by that is, the average straight guy will tell you they have no intentions of ever dating a guy. They’re straight and it’s not their thing. But with Andrew I feel he’s never been super defensive of his heterosexuality. Andrew has never shown signs of hyper-masculinity or really caring about what people perceived him as. Yes, that could purely be due to the fact he’s just a decent and accepting guy, but I feel like there’s a bit more to it. I feel like he doesn’t feel the need to establish his heterosexuality because while he has only dated women, and overall assumes himself as straight, I feel like he’s one of those people who has acknowledged to themselves that they wouldn’t be closed to the idea of dating a guy if one day they had feelings for one. (Note, hypothetically being open to dating someone of the same sex is vastly different than actually dating an entire real person) Now, that being said, many people in the queer community started off with a similar woke mindset of “i’m straight, but if I liked someone of the same sex I wouldn’t be opposed to it” before realizing they were actually queer. Just like many of us were big LGBT+ Ally’s and related to/liked a lot of queer media before realizing we were queer ourselves. It’s sometimes a stepping stone to realizing you’re queer, I guess you could say.
 This is where I think Andrew falls. 
 Andrew is obviously comfortable with the LGBT community, his current friend group appears to be very diverse and heavily queer, and he seems to not be afraid of liking things that may be perceived as feminine or “gay” by the average cishet person. Andrew is at a stage a lot of queer people have been at before, which is being a Super Cool Straight Ally until one day “Oh wait... maybe i’m not just an Ally.”. This is something that can happen when a queer person finds themselves around more queer people and more queer media than before. No, I don’t mean he’s being “turned” gay or some dumb shit like that, what I mean is if a queer person is in a more open and diverse environment (the squad, youtube, etc) that they maybe weren’t in before, that person can start to realize things about themselves they’ve never been able to really acknowledge, label, or be open about before. 
(This is why I smirk at the comments saying “Andrew is getting gayer” because yeah, lol. For lack of a better term, he is. He’s not being made gay, but he is getting more comfortable in himself.)  Andrew is at the stage where he knows something is different. He knows he puts Garrett in a different category than his other male friends, he knows he doesn’t /like/ seeing Garrett flirt with other guys. When Garrett hangs out with Jeffree, Andrew has to post about some other friend he’s hanged out with. If Jeffree makes a joke about sleeping with Garrett, Andrew has to mention he slept over with a friend too. He knows what he’s feeling is jealousy and he’s trying to put this new feeling in it’s place, but he’s still not ready to let himself fully admit that he’s gone and fallen for his best friend. See, Andrew has always struck me as having a shy, maybe a bit nervous, personality. I think it’s definitely possible he overthinks different situations in this life, and falling for your best friend is definitely something someone might overthink. I think it’s also very possible he’s slightly self conscious and tends to doubt himself a lot in stressful or confusing situations. So it’s not that he’s against what he’s feeling, he’s not grossed out by it or negative toward it,  but it’s that he won’t let himself *believe* it’s happening. If that makes sense. I think he panics and tries to rationalize it into something else because “I don’t have feelings for Garrett… do I? No, we’re best friends. That’s all it is.” 
“Garrett couldn’t possibly have feelings for me… there’s no way” 
 “I’m just being dramatic, Garrett doesn’t like me… ” etc. 
 Most everyone, including myself, has had the #gay panic when realizing they’re queer. He’s never experienced this before with a guy, definitely not with someone so close to him, and I think he’s a bit shell shocked by it. So he self doubts. He overthinks. He tries to rationalize it because there *must* be another explanation for it... there’s no WAY he’s fallen for his best friend, that only happens in movies, right? And when I say Andrew can’t admit it or is confused by his feelings, I don’t mean it in a homophobic or demeaning way. I mean coming to terms with yourself, even if it’s just the newness of everything, can be a lot to take in at first. It’s an experience with a lot of feelings and thoughts. Even if someone is open to it, it actually happening can take a minute to get used to. Hypotheticals and real life are two entirely different ball games. 
 Now for another big question…. do they realize each other has the same feelings, and do people around them realize it? 
 Like I said earlier, I think Garrett doesn’t allow himself to believe it’s there. He thinks Andrew is straight and it’s all just his silly feelings, so while he might notice hints here and there he doesn’t let himself believe it’s anything. He won’t assume anything until Andrew tells him directly to his face. (Poor Andrew, lol) 
 For Andrew I think he notices more than Garrett. He can see Garrett likes him a lot and it’s not that he doesn’t want that, but like with his own feelings I think he tries to rationalize it and overthink it. When Garrett compliments him and brags on him, he tries to tell himself that it’s JUST because Garrett is a nice guy. It’s JUST because Garrett is funny and extra. Garrett compliments EVERYONE, I’M not special (he is). Like with his own feelings, in the back of his head he knows what it is and he does hope for it, but it’s gonna take a bit of time for him to let himself believe fully it’s there. 
(may it be due to the #gay panic or just his own self doubt) As for their friends… obviously they notice. Garrett tweeted about wanting a boyfriend once and Matt replied with a tag to Andrew, so obviously anyone could tell they’re the couple in their friend group who everyone teases about getting together. Do I think their friends realize it’s THIS serious yet? Maybe not. Teasing and genuine belief are two different things. I think their friends definitely think they’re good together, and wouldn’t be surprised if it happened, and tease them about it, but like with everything else Andrew’s alleged straightness still adds a tiny bit of hesitation to everyone’s belief. So I think they know, but maybe they don’t notice it’s quite this serious yet. 
 As for the actual squad (Shane, Ryland, and Morgan)… I don’t know. I’ve never been able to exactly pin point my thoughts on their POV. I think they believe more than Garrett and Andrew’s other friends, simply for the fact Shane and Ryland are both queer and could see things from a different POV than Garrett and Andrew’s other straight friends. Not to get too fanfic-y, but I think Shane would definitely be one of the first people to realize “oh shit, this is for real. It’s not just teasing anyone.” (if he hasn’t realized already). 
Shane struggled a lot with his bisexuality and has been through this before, he would definitely be someone to notice the tell tale signs somebody else might not. - Anyway, there ya go. As of right now, this is my view of everything Gandrew. May it drastically change one day? Yes. Does it change a little bit everyday depending on the circumstance and new content? Yes. So again, take from this what you will. It may ring some truth, it may be entirely bs. But hopefully you all at least enjoyed reading it. :)

[kae-karo]

pls post your mine hcs!!! i would love to hear them b

hi b! for context (x) okay i should clarify, i shouldn’t have called them hcs as i think people take that with a lot of connotation to mean ‘i actually think this happened/would happen’ when really it’s more like...

okay. if i were to write a fic with dnp as characters who exist exactly as we see them (as in, we know everything abt their personalities, which irl we absolutely do not) then this is how i imagine the character of dan would see most of the songs on ‘a brief inquiry into online relationships’ and why he would say that he feels ‘personally attacked by literally every song on this album’ - to be clear, i don’t think this is actually what dan thinks! please treat this as fiction!

bear with me bc i wanna talk abt some of the others first (i also wanted to include the links to the genius interviews where matt talks abt some of the meanings behind the songs, but it doesn’t have all of them so check out the lyrics as well)

give yourself a try (x) - i mean obviously this is the one dan felt he related to most/felt most safe posting about how he related to it/was personally attacked by it, but the whole thing is like. being yourself, and like? embracing yourself? as a person? as whoever you truly are? and they keep coming back to the idea of authenticity with this whole album, and i think that’s part of why dan would be so ‘attacked’ by this album bc he’s in the throes of his own search for authenticity

love it if we made it (x) - this one’s fun bc it’s basically all about how fucked up society is and like. all the things that’ve gone wrong, how society is just so beyond messed up, and it’s like. yes. all of this is so wrong, messed up, but there’s hope? like we can be self-aware, we can make differences, and i would imagine dan listening to this and feeling like. maybe torn? because there are some things where he’s trying to make a difference but some where he would want to but not know how? so y’know personal attack on him in the sense that it’s a personal attack on everyone - we’re all complicit, in a way, and part of it is just because we know all this is happening but how much do any of us try to enact change? i imagine that’s something that keeps dan up at night, tbh. i mean the man spent an hour picking up snails off a sidewalk so they wouldn’t get squished

be my mistake (x) - this one is interesting bc the artist explains it’s really just about guilt, on a deeper level, and about not knowing what you want? ultimately even tho it’s about like a hookup with someone you don’t know that you really want, i think dan would take this more at the deep level of like. having no idea what he wants in life (something he’s said before, multiple times) and? perhaps in a sense, going back to things that he knows don’t actually represent what he wants (ie, that don’t feel authentic) but knowing the outcome and maybe just feeling safe or at least feeling something significant from them, maybe like he’s fulfilling what other people want of him by doing these things even if they don’t quite feel like him

sincerity is scary (x,x) - i think this is one of the ones dan would feel calls him out the most - it’s all about a person’s relationship with social media, authenticity, and self-perception over external perception? so like. the entire first verse is all about hiding behind a mask of irony and like. i think for dan that’s a hard-hitting callout? and i don’t just mean his whole brand of how everything was done/said ‘ironically’, more that even now he hides his fears behind jokes and such, bc that’s a culturally relevant way to do things (’you try and mask your pain in the most post-modern way’). the whole idea is like. if you’re being ironic, if you’re masking everything behind jokes and insincerity, you can’t actually be judged the way you can if you’re authentic and sincere? so like. there’s dan’s fear of judgment plastered all over this song, his fear of people looking at him for who he is and disliking it or perceiving it in a way he doesn’t like (’and why would you believe you could control how you’re perceived when at your best you’re intermediately versed in your own feelings’) it’s like. and he’s said this a couple times now, but he doesn’t always know why he does/thinks certain things, there’s not always a reasoning behind it, and i think that for him, that contributes to his struggles with authenticity. i think this is really doubly intriguing when ttlmt is taken into account as well? bc he specifically says that for ‘some people’ (aka him i mean this is known at this point) unless they’re being honest with themselves, they won’t feel free. and i think that’s like. dan’s internal struggle right now/this past year: how to balance his evident need for authentic and honest self-expression with his deep-rooted fear of judgment of his authentic self. i mean read the damn title of the song, sincerity is scary

i like america & america likes me (x) - i’m sure there’s a deeper meaning to how dan would interpret it (aside from the obvious and intentional callout about guns in america) but all i can think about is talking about being on fire, being a liar, ‘is that designer?’ etc, and the death of dinof. but also y’know about calling out things that are Wrong 

the man who married a robot / love theme (x) - i think this one is maybe one that dan felt absolutely viscerally attacked by, this is a direct callout on his relationship with the internet and his audience. it’s presented as a relationship, a friendship, a love, but like if you step back and go ‘this is about a person and an audience’ it’s so so much more heartbreaking. i mean the internet saying ‘i love you very very much...i never ever want us to be apart ever again ever’ like that’s us that’s literally us we want constant content from them? and i think for a time, dan did feel like he would want that. because that’s fame, right? ‘and he would always always agree with him. this was the man’s favorite’ i know this is a commentary on like generally the culture of the internet but i have a feeling this is something dan would feel p hard. but i would imagine ‘i feel like i can tell you anything’ is the part that would be the most gutting, bc he put so so much of himself out here for us. and i would also wonder how hard the abruptness of the ending would hit - the sudden ‘and then he died’ after ‘man does not live by bread alone’, the acknowledgement that dan couldn’t just survive on his audience (and, more extensively, the internet), and how 1. he could still die lonely, had that been how he felt (i don’t think he does, but diversifying oneself and one’s relationships is emphasized here) and 2. the almost insignificance of an online presence, in objective terms, like. all that’s left of this lonely person is his facebook. i think that ties in really strongly with dan’s desire to leave something physical behind, like tabinof and dapgo and the ii dvd, something as physical evidence they existed and made an impact

inside your mind (x) - so concept is just...seeing inside your partner’s head? and like i feel like that’s something dan would want, or care a lot about, in some sense. a bit violent, lyrically, but i wouldn’t doubt that he cares (or, perhaps at a time in his past, cared) about it quite a lot some days. i think he just really cares about what other people think about him, probably especially phil, but also like the deep desire to understand someone? esp someone you love

it’s not living (if it’s not with you) (x) - okay this one’s very straight up about heroin addiction but i would definitely wonder if dan felt it like. in connection to phil in some ways? and i know the easy connection would be that dan wouldn’t be able to stop thinking abt phil and uwu it’s not living if it’s not with phil but the lyrics are actually quite dark? i would actually guess it had more to do with like. he couldn’t stop thinking about phil and wanting to like. be openly with phil (heyyy that authenticity yo) but also like. the repercussions of openly being in a mlm relationship on his life and his career at the time, and even now, ‘if i choose, then i lose’ like if he picks being open, there may be consequences in his career (although, more and more lately i wonder if he doesn’t care so much anymore), but ofc if he picks his career, he’s suffering from this lack of authenticity that’s haunted him for a while

i couldn’t be more in love (x) - so the whole song is more about a relationship with an audience/fanbase, and like what would happen if people just stopped caring and how like. putting so much time and effort into their relationship w. an audience and like, what about the creator’s feelings? i think dan would take that really seriously, like, we’re all really nice most of the time but what if we stopped caring? and like how would that affect him, after having given us nine+ years of himself? the other thing it touches on is the idea of just relying on ‘all the things that i did right’ ie depending on the things that made him popular, and i could see dan looking at that and wondering if he’s relied on that in the past, maybe this past year has been his attempt to move forward, or maybe his year of less activity (in the form of dinof vids) has been him relying on the things that got him where he is in order to keep his fanbase - so then, does that let him expand more, do more of the things he wants instead of, oh, idk, giving the people what they want? or does he feel obligated to do more of what the people want, since that’s what got him where he is?

i always wanna die (sometimes) (x) - it’s a meme but generally like. existence is exhausting? and that’s the whole idea? like god sometimes just doing stuff day to day is so so tiring, and i think that’s something that resonates with dan? and there’s a lot of other meaning about like death n stuff, and like. some days suck but you have to keep going? bc your life doesn’t just affect you it affects everyone and maybe that’s motivation for you maybe it isn’t but you have to realize that giving up is also something that affects everyone. maybe that’s something dan would see in relation to his depression and phil, and how resigning himself can really harm those around him as well

kay now the fun one

mine (x) - this whole fucking thing is a testament to dnp i can’t even fucking type correctly rn bc i’m so passionate abt this okay. literally the opening and closing lines are ‘there comes a time in a young man's life / he should settle down and find himself a wife / but i'm just fine cause i know that you are mine’ like if you try to tell me for a single fucking second that’s not dnp i will come to your house and make you listen to it on repeat until u understand okay. but like. that’s their whole thing right? they’re each other’s and that’s what matters? god i’m gonna literally do this (almost) line by line: ‘i fight crime online sometimes’ = dan’s desire to be this positive force on the internet. ‘and write rhymes i hide behind’ = oh dan’s diss track hmmm (but more generally, he makes jokes that he hides his fear and other things behind). ‘i’m fine if you are fine’ = oh u cannot tell me that’s not how dan feels? about phil? that he finds happiness in knowing phil’s happy? and then of fucking course ‘looking back on 2009 / when people said that it was raining all the time / i see sunshine cause i know you are mine’ oof that hits hard right in the feels okay dan definitely heard this and smiled his fucking face off cause u know in spite of whatever bullshit he had going on in 2009 he definitely still saw it as a bright spot in his life bc he met phil that’s just the truth. what i’m really interested in is the third verse ‘for some reason i just can’t say ‘i do’’ like. would dan possibly feel that way? i have no idea. but at the very least, it’s definitely something that dan would feel in some way, bc they’re not open abt their relationship and a marriage would obviously make it Very open. ugh sorry this one just hits hard and like. just knowing dnp have each other in whatever sense that actually means it’s like. physically painful in a good way. bless them

[builder051]

Sorry, if I may, I had perhaps a thought/question/suggestion for daredevil? I haven’t seen the third season yet, but so far I perceive him to be someone deeply self-destructive but utterly unaware of that fact. If this rings true at all, I imagine that the realization would hit him hard, particularly since he’s Catholic. If this were ever something you’d be interested in writing, I’d be interested in reading it, but please don’t feel obligated. I hope that things are going well for you!

No need to apologize for talking to me.  As long as you’re not spewing hate, the askbox is open, and you’re not directly contradicting something I recently stated as a preference, I’m not going to explode at you.  

I’m in the process of watching season 3 now.  I’m really loving it.  The whole thing with messing with Matt’s public image to getto him, I relate so hard.

This is an awesome prompt; thank you so much for sending it. I know you probably wanted something set in the present, but the way this started coming to me really had to be set at Columbia.  I imagine Matthaving a lifelong struggle with self-harm, and Daredevil-ing is like a copingmechanism.  I wanted to explore it before he went that route.

That said, this story contains self harm, but it’s vague. It treats the essence of the issue, not the details.

_____

The chicken or the egg.  

It’s not a bad metaphor.  It does a decent job of summing up the thought circles that are impossible to understand, but insist on baffling Matt anyway.  Normally he’s perceptive enough to suss out the nexus of his issues, and if they’re worthy enough, address them at the source.

Not today, though.  His head’s cloudy and throbbing. He doesn’t think it hurt so much when he first lay down on his narrow dorm bed, but time has given up on being linear.  Matt’s no longer sure if it was the depression or the malaise that hit first.  The chicken or the egg.

Matt’s thoughts aren’t linear either.  Foggy insists on vegetarian fried rice when they go out for Chinese.  “Because it’s weird, Matt.  You can’t have the grown-up and the baby in the same dish,” he’d explained.  “Isn’t there something about that in the Bible?”

Goats, Matt had told him.  It’s about goats.  But Christ declared all foods clean, and that’s why his followers don’t keepkosher.  But Foggy grew up in a deli, so of course he’d see it from the other side.  Funny how the realization only hits him now, when the thought of food makes his mouth water in a way that’s distinctly unpleasant.  And lack of sustenance probably has something to do with the nauseous ache crashing around the inside of his head.

Matt lets out a dejected sigh and shifts onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.  He knows his glasses sit safely on his desk, but he still feels the shadowy indents of the nose pads.  It’s like rubbing his face in powdered glass.  He wishes twin extra-long sheets came in a higher thread count.

Matt’s eyes start to water.  Tears of pain pool beneath his eyelids and run out of the corners.  The pillowcase soaks up the droplets and spreads them, creating wet spots that press against his brows and cling to his cheeks.

The dampness is cold, but Matt’s wires are crossed, and it may as well be burning.  He smells the salt, the stress in his sweat, the sulfates in the laundry soap.  His brain throws in the memory of burned rubber and sunbaked asphalt, and before he can stop himself, he’s on his back, kicking off the covers and floundering.  

He can’t take this pain.  He can’t find his dad.  He can’t see.

But it’s coming through all wrong.  He went blind first. Then Jack died.  Right?  And the migraines came later, at the orphanage.  Along with the nightmares.

And that’s what this is, isn’t it?  Scratchy bedding, a roommate who only pretends to like him.  But Sister Maggie likes him. She comes when he calls out to her.  And when he calls out to his dad.  And even when his brain goes primal and fuzzy and he yells for the mother he’s never even known.

Matt‘s throat is working, his vocal cords pulsing like plucked guitar strings.  But he can’t hear the notes.  He’s too disconnected, his mouth and ears too far apart.  Matt rolls onto his side, dragging his knees to his chest and clamping his arms around them, squeezing himself into aball.  He wraps his palm around the opposite wrist for good measure,sliding the chain on a door that’s already bolted.

But someone’s rattling the knob.  Matt hears metal on metal, the scrape of a key.  There’s a creak, then a slam, then, “Whoops.”

A couple shuffling footsteps.  “Oh, hey, Matt.”

Matt flinches at the sudden influx of sound.  He couldn’t hear himself groaning a moment ago, but Foggy may as well be speaking through a bullhorn.  The jump in logic makes Matt’s temples throb sickeningly. But if Foggy’s here, then Matt’s definitely now.  Pinpointing the x,y, and z of location on coordinate plane grounds him in the fourth dimension too, even though his math classes haven’t taught him how to do that yet.

A bitter taste pools under his tongue.  Matt swallows to slow his racing heartbeat.  He takes a breath.

It’s 2009.

He gets a whiff of candy corn coming off Foggy.  It’s October.

The streetlamp hums outside the window.  Matt can smell beer, too.  And Vaseline.  A hint of latex.  It’s the middle of the night.  He’s definitely in college.

“You ok, buddy?”  Foggy flips on the overhead light. The fluorescent bulbs sizzle to life, and Matt’s stomach flips, bubbling like a cauldron of vomitous witch’s brew.

“Fine,” Matt croaks.  He lifts his head an inch from his still-wet pillow and loosens his tightly wound posture.  His hackles are still up, but Foggy’s buzzed and blissful.  He doesn’t need to worry.

“You sure?  You were in bed when I left,” Foggy says. “And that was, like… early.”

“Hm.”  Matt’s hand is wet, too.  He wipes it on hissheets.

“Party’s still going on, if you wanna drop in.  I’ll go with you.  It’s…”  Foggy laughs.  “It’s a good party.”

“Nah.”  Matt’s senses are going off again.  He smells metal.  But that could just be the nausea crystalizing in his sinuses.

“You really should.  If you’re just sad, you should get up. Do something.”  Foggy’s uneven footsteps approach Matt’s bed. “Come on.”

“Not sad.” Matt means to add some more detail, like the building migraine, the rising urge to throw up.  He means to add the just, theway Foggy did.  He doesn’t mean to lie.

“Yeah, right.”  Foggy grabs Matt’s wrist.

“No, Fog—”  Matt isn’t expecting to be pulled out of bed. And he isn’t expecting searing pain to lance up his arm.

“You’re not— Jesus, Matt!”  The exclamation comes across suddenly as Foggy’s fingers find the half-moon scratches on Matt’s forearm. Surprise ups the spit and anxious vibration in his tone.

For a second, Matt’s lost again.  But then the blocks stack up.  The memories, the hurt, the cycles of illness he has trouble labeling as physical or mental.  It’s happened before.  It makes a sick sort of sense, made sicker by the fact that Matt knows he deserves it.

“You’re not Jesus.”  It’s clear it’s not what Foggy meant to say, but his friend runs with it anyway.

Matt makes a cynical noise.  His mouth is too dry and wooly for him to force out more than one syllable.  If Foggy’s contradicting something, it didn’t come from Matt’s lips.  Even if his head hurts enough to make that kind of gibberish a real possibility.

“You don’t have to suffer.  And, god, I can’t believe you did this to yourself.”  Foggy doesn’t want to touch the wounds anymore. He’s sticky with Matt’s blood.  Matt can hear him bouncing the pad of his index finger against his thumb, repeatedly breaking the seal as the viscous fluid starts to dry.

Matt’s going to tell him he didn’t mean to, but Foggy makes to walk away.   Matt decides it’s not worth opening his mouth.  He turns inward again and tries to talk himself through relaxing the tension in hisneck.  

He doesn’t expect Foggy to swoop back in and pull him out of bed by the shoulders.  “No, no, Fog,” Matt protests, attempting to push him away while also being conscious of the facts that blood is running freely down his arm, and he’s perilously close to vomiting.  “I—my head—”

“Cut it out, Matt.  You’re depressed.  You’re bleeding!”

It’s the middle of the night.  Foggy can’t be dragging him to the campus health clinic.  Matt’s clearly in no shape for a party. He gets a mental image of himself sitting on the bathroom counter, slumped against the mirror, explaining in broken sentences how this is not an intentional act of self-flagellation while Foggy applies Neosporin and Band-Aids.

But they’re not going to make it that far.  They’re not going to make it out of the room.  Matt gags and claps his hand over his mouth.

“Shit.”  This time, Foggy interprets correctly.  He shoves Matt into his desk chair and thrusts the trash can into his lap.

Matt coughs harshly.  He heaves up a dribble of bile, then waits for the room to stop spinning.  He’s definitely dehydrated. Some simple carbs would probably do him good too, but Matt’s not ready to brave anything that will require chewing.  Or anything with a flavor.

“Sorry.”  Matt scrapes his tongue with his teeth and wills them to stop chattering.

“You didn’t have a headache when I left,” Foggy says, a little defensively.

It’s probably true.  Matt doesn’t remember the details well enough to refute it.  “I do now,” he murmurs.

Foggy sighs.  “Yeah.  You do now.”  The mini-fridge opens and closes.  He cranks the top off a bottle of water and nudges it against Matt’s hand.  “Here.  Rinse.  I’ll get you back to bed.  And put something on those scratches, if you want.”

He thinks about it as he swishes the water and spits it into the trash.  The wounds themselves don’t hurt.  But the drying blood itches.

“Or I could go, if you’d rather…” Foggy waffles.

Matt’s taking too long.  Foggy doesn’t want to leave him alone, but he’s going to come out and say it.

Matt hates that he does this to himself.  He hates even more that he’s ruining his friend’s night.  But, truth be told, he doesn’twant to be alone either.

“Sure,” Matt finally says. “You can stay.”  It’s too demanding.  He quickly revises. “I mean…you should.  I want you to stay.”

[anika-ann]

Think Again (When You Stop Freaking Out) - Pt.6

Mirror and Mirage

Pairing: None                   Word count: 2012

Warnings: language, hella lot confusion, attempt at humour, medical drug use… irony and sass? ;)

Summary: Matt and Steve bond over superpowers and strange yet amazing friends. Tony Stark does what he wants. The usual.

Story Masterlist

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Matt had a suspicion that Tony Stark liked to show off his wealth. He also thought that Bruce Banner definitely was more of a good host than anyone would expect from a man turning into a huge green monster (not that Matt could tell the colour).

With these two things combined, they ended up in what seemed to be a living room for all the Avengers, cups of coffee in front of themselves, Bruce talking in hushed voice with the other genius.

Foggy – after making sure it was okay for what could be four times – excused himself to the balcony so he could admire the marvellous view from the Tower. Matt was frankly sure he took a selfie. And Thor disappear god knew where, no pun intended.

Which left the captain and Matt alone, each of them sitting on a different couch. The silence wasn’t particularly awkward, but neither it was comfortable.

It made Matt realize that he was probably the only one to perceive silence in this situation. Which was really, really weird.

“How you’re holding up, Captain?” he addressed Steve hesitantly and the man in question raised his head to him immediately.

He was still glasses-free, which meant Matt had his emotions served on a silver plate. It dawned to him that while for him personally the glasses shielded people from the uncomfortable sight of his unseeing eyes, they had much more important function. Matt wasn’t sure if it was a Steve Rogers thing or Matt Murdock’s face thing, but boy, thank god for the red lenses. They were a mask on their own.

“I’m fairly sure we can drop the titles, Mr. Murdock.”

“Matt.”

Steve extended his hand Matt’s general direction. “Steve.”

Matt chuckled as the absurdity and accepted the hand, this time trying to be wary of using too much force. To be honest, he was surprised how well was Steve coping. The supersoldier had been blinded and given terribly strong senses; he was holding up incredibly well.

“You seem to be doing really well, Steve. How are you really?”

Matt was met with a sight of himself shrugging, his face once again revealing more than the simple gesture. It’s not easy, the expression said. I’m fine, the gesture hinted. Strange dichotomy. Was it like this with him all the time?

“Well, I’m trying. It’s… overwhelming.”

Matt laughed humourlessly. “That’s one way to say it.”

“But… the Tower seems to muffle the noise of the city pretty well, rooms seemed rather soundproof. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you to live like this all the time…” he hesitated, as if he was reluctant to say more. “I… I think that… the body remembers a way to cope though. When Foggy came to the apartment… the world fell silent. Not completely, just… it… he grounded me.”

Matt watched him struggling to explain the feelings, the soft note of awe and admiration in his voice, and couldn’t help but relate – to the struggle, not the admiration. That part was just… unexpected. He wasn’t used to people acting like this. Foggy could never understand, no matter how much he tried; and everyone else… it was just waves and waves of pity washing over him whenever he mentioned things weren’t always easy; so as a rule, he tried his best not to.

But Steve seemed simply astonished. Matt wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well, I guess there’s something true about that. I… people help with that. If I can focus on something or someone, it gets easier. Foggy… he is a good thing to focus on. Just… please don’t mention it in front of him.”

Steve looked like he was considering the pros and cons for a minute – lying and keeping secrets versus the consequences of telling the truth – , and then nodded.  

“Well, I’m just grateful. It’s none of my business.”

Lots of things aren’t, Matt heard despite no more words spoken.

He smiled at Steve with relief and gratitude even though he knew the man couldn’t see it. “Thanks, Steve.”

The soft smile was thrown right back at him.                                        

“What about you? How you’re holding up? I’m not exactly… great at interpreting all the info I’m being offered…”

Matt huffed. “To be honest, I think I understand what you mean by the muscle memory thing. I knew Doctor Banner was a friend of some sort when he approached me. It’s all… weird.”

Matt knew he didn’t need to say that he meant mainly the ability to see – Steve read between the lines.

“Imagine that,” Steve hummed vaguely, lowering his sightless gaze.

“I guess I just want this to be over with,” Matt admitted, feeling the tiredness settle in his – Steve’s – bones.

At that, Steve raised his head again, his eyes somewhat searching. Curious, but not noisy. Compassionate, but not pitying. Understanding, Matt realized.

Steve opened his mouth several times without a sound coming out and then spoke in soft reluctant voice.

“I was given this opportunity to… to serve my country despite being sick most of my life and I…, finally be able to fight for what I believed was right was all I could want. I had something I could never hope to have. And after the transformation… I had this recurrent dream, almost every night – still have it sometimes. I dream that wake up and… I’m back to my old self. It only gets worse with time. The longer I live like this… the worse the dream about relapsing is becoming. And it’s not the fact itself that I’m small and helpless… it’s that I am small and helpless again.”

Matt’s lips parted, releasing a shaky exhale under Steve’s genuine eyes – well, his own, whatever. His heart was hammering in his ribcage, the world swaying off its place slightly.

How… how was he able to get to the very core of the problem? How— how could he know exactly the worst part? Because he knows it, a tiny voice whispered in Matt’s head. He knows it.

Matt had no doubt Steve was telling the truth – and he finally understood what Foggy meant when saying that Matt was a terrible liar, seriously, Matt Murdock’s face screamed truth right now and it wasn’t hard to imagine that lie would be just as clear.

Matt fought against the lump in his throat, swallowing loudly.

“Yeah,” he rasped, watching the corner of Steve’s lips rise in a lopsided sad smile. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

Or once, Matt was sure of his own feelings. He didn’t hate the ability to see. He was in peace with not seeing too, for most part.

But he despised the limited period he was given the great opportunity, only to be robbed of it. Again.

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“So, I have an idea.”

“That can’t be good,” Matt murmured under his breath, making Steve chuckle silently. In response, Matt’s heart skipped a beat, probably not expecting to be heard.

Tony was oblivious to the note, so Steve assumed Matt truly spoke too low for anyone to hear it. Except for a guy with superhearing, who was now in the position of being surprise surprised by being heard. Steve thought that maybe, one day he would be able to truly laugh at that.

“It’s very scientifically advanced so I’m gonna say it in plain English…” Foggy, Steve and Matt all held their breaths, while Bruce… Steve was pretty sure he rolled his eyes, even though he had no way of knowing that. “You should go to sleep.”

“I beg your pardon?” Matt blurted out.

Yeah, what he said. When had Steve zoned out enough to ignore Bruce and Tony talking anyway?

“Hey, I don’t want to explain it in science talk-“

“There’s zero ‘science talk’. We just think that if the artefact affected you in sleep, it might activate again when your consciousness is in the same state as it was during the first exchange,” Bruce cut him off and Steve could feel the shuffle of air as Tony gave his friend an annoyed look.

“Now you’re just oversimplifying-“

“Tony, that was a thinking of a five year old reading enough fairy tales-“

“I don’t think I can fall asleep now and like this,” Matt sighed, interrupting the bicker.

“I kinda agree,” Steve confirmed hesitantly.

“Yeah, well, in this century, we have those things called sleeping-pills,” Tony informed them sassily and Steve crossed his arms on his chest. Yeah, sure, except he would need a dose for an elephant. Or, well, Matt would need it. Steve’s actual body would. Whatever.

“I don’t like drugs.”

“Yeah, drugs are bad,” Foggy stated and Steve knew he crossed his arms as well. “I mean… he really doesn’t like it.”

“It messes with me for days. Call it oversensitivity…” Matt explained reluctantly, his voice sheepish and clearly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, well…”

Too late, Steve smelled something that set all alarm bells in his head off. It was a strange smell, artificial, making his stomach turn up. Before he could locate the source, he felt a sting on his neck. His hand immediately went to cover the place, strange warmth spreading through his body.

“HEY!” three voices protested loudly and Steve’s world swayed. His fingers touched a small object sticking from his skin, pulling it out with another sting.

With mind cloudy and his limbs swimming, he identified it painfully slowly. A tranquillizer arrow.

Tony had never meant to ask them if they wanted to go to sleep. Of course he hadn’t.

Steve didn’t even manage to curse. The world turned upside down and the last words he heard were ‘sorry pal, you’ll need like ten of these.’

And then the world went silent.

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“When I wake up – if I’m gonna wake up like myself again –, I‘m gonna ask someone to punch you,” Matt growled, watching his own body crumbled on the couch. That son of a bitch-

Tony Stark didn’t even have the decency to look guilty and shrugged.

“Sure thing, DD. Or MMM? Gotta love these alliterations. Anyway, you might wanna sit down again. It sucks to drag Cap’s body somewhere. Lots of muscles. Which is why we need to give you so much. Fast metabolism and shit.”

“Matt, I volunteer,” Foggy informed him stiffly and it took Matt a moment to realize what ‘call to arms’ Foggy was responding to.

“I think I’ll just find him when my senses are back too normal and hit him myself. It would be more satisfying,” Matt hissed, but sat down on the couch, getting ready to be dosed with what would probably be enough medication to bring down a horse. Or an elephant. Or the whole herd of elephants.

“Kinky.”

“Tony, please…” Doctor Banner cooled down his sassy friend, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose. “Just… do it, since you already set the plan in motion without, you know, asking for permission.”

“Non-consensual drug use. You’re drugging him against his will. Matt, you can have the punch. I’ll just sue his ass off.”

Despite the annoyance and anger, Matt couldn’t help but grin at his best friend’s note.

“You just got yourself a deal, counsellor.”

“Cute. Now sweet dreams, Cinderella.”

“I’m pretty sure that was Sleeping Beauty…” Matt murmured and it was the last coherent sentence he was able to say, because next thing he knew, he felt several stings, warmth enveloped him in a blanket and his eyelids started feeling too heavy. He couldn’t fight the natural response of Steve’s body and his own – it didn’t want to yield.

On the other hand, the amount of drugs that had just been pumped into him was way too much to handle.

Foggy was kind enough to hover over him; so it was him what Matt potentially saw as the last thing and not the smirk on Tony Stark’s face.

And then… darkness greeted him like an old friend, painting everything in black.

Still, he could hear the annoying voice of the billionaire. “Well, at least he admitted he was a princess…”

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Part 7

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