#i just want my paladin to stop blowing herself up for fights i already know are lost

[burningfestivalpersona]

I feel like Dragon Quest IX, as a whole, could be much improved by simply giving fewer bosses Disruptive Wave and removing Omniheal.

Less Disruptive Wave because any game where you can’t use buffs in most fights is basically just saying you wasted all those skill points you put into the Armamentalist tree. If you can’t respect someone’s customization decisions, you shouldn’t be giving them those options to begin with.

No Omniheal because literally no one needs Omniheal ever. Full heals need to be limited in some way, not refreshed every time Shogum successfully calls another King Cureslime. At no point has that ever been necessary.

[sage-nebula]

Hmmm... "tfw ur evil mom doesnt like ur bf"

Despite the glib file name I gave it, this one is actually pretty serious.

This one takes place in my Paradigm Shift AU, which is an AU in which not only was Keith raised in space, and not only did he join Team Lotor, but he and the rest of Team Lotor (or Team Revolutionary as I call this version of them) became the Paladins of Voltron and are fighting a revolution against the Empire. More specifically, this WIP was an AU of my AU, and more specifically still it's a, "what if Haggar controlled Narti in Paradigm Shift the same way she did in canon? What if the Narti Incident still happened?" After I considered the question I couldn't get it out of my head, so I had to write it down��or at least start to write it down, before I got distracted by other things.

TL;DR: Haggar uses Narti to spy (against Narti's will), and Lotor (in a moment of trauma-induced panic) tries to kill her as in canon, only to be stopped by Keith . . . and things get worse from there. Narti does end up escaping (nothing but unrefrigerated women in my AU), but Team Revolutionary is pretty badly fractured as a result of what Haggar makes her do after Keith intervenes, how Lotor reacts to what she does, how Ezor reacts to how Lotor reacts to what she does, and all the emotional fallout that comes with it.

I actually had quite a bit written, so I'll give multiple snippets:

So one Sincline ship was necessary, absolutely, but Lotor had ordered the construction of four more with the remainder of the comet they had secured from an alternate reality. At first, Acxa hadn’t understood why. They had their Lions, and while she couldn’t speak for Zethrid, Ezor, or Narti, Acxa herself was pretty attached to Red. She didn’t want to trade for a Sincline ship. But Lotor had, when she had questioned him, pointed out the fact that they would not be able to pilot Voltron forever. Eventually, they would die or move on to other things. And when they did, and Voltron passed into other hands, it may be necessary to have a check on its power, just in case.

“At present, the Sincline ships are the only ships in the known universe with a hope of meeting Voltron in a fair fight,” he had said. “They will only be five ships, one per Lion, when completed, but that is still five more ships than the universe had before.”

“But we have them,” Ezor had said, “so aren’t we just making a check on ourselves?”

“We have them now,” Lotor had said, a little smile playing at his lips, “but we need not have them forever. Nothing is eternal, Ezor.”

With that decided, construction had progressed on the remaining four. Acxa had to say, they were impressive. While she still felt a strong attachment to Red that she wasn’t willing to break, the Sincline ships gleamed in the light of their hangar, and their cockpits had a soft scent that was comforting and welcoming at once (“New ship smell,” Keith had called it, and Acxa wasn’t so sure about that, but she also couldn’t think of anything to counter it). The third ship was about halfway complete; between the mechanics they had recruited and the droids they had built for this purpose, construction was coming along at a brisk pace, and so Lotor’s smile as the six of them watched its progress from the doorway of the hangar was (in Acxa’s opinion) completely warranted.

“At this rate, we should be able to begin testing on the third ship within the next few months,” Lotor said, his voice raised a little to be heard over the sound of the ore being soldered. “Acxa, have you checked the calibration and pilot test results from the second ship?”

“Yes,” Acxa said. “Calibration of the second ship is complete, and it passed all other tests with no errors. It’s in perfect form.”

“Excellent.”

Lotor cast one last satisfied look at the half-completed third ship before he turned and left the hangar, the rest of them turning to follow suit. Well, most of the rest of them; Keith alone lingered for just a moment more, smiling a little as he looked back at the ship, but when he turned and caught Acxa watching him, his smile fell.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Acxa said, and though she resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she couldn’t keep a little smile off her own lips as she followed after Lotor, Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid down the corridor. “Attached already, are you?”

“I like ships,” Keith said, a little defensively as he fell into step beside her. “That’s all.”

“I know,” Acxa said. But though it was childish of her, and though there was no reason to rile him over being excited at the construction of the Sincline ships, she still couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Nerd,” under her breath.

She glanced at him in time to see him roll his eyes, but he was smiling a little again as he stepped to the side to knock his shoulder against hers in a playful bump, and that made her own smile grow.

[. . .]

It had been six weeks since an agent of the Blade named Ulaz had infiltrated the castleship looking for someone named Shiro—six weeks since Keith saw a symbol on Ulaz’s weapon that he thought looked vaguely familiar, and six weeks since Ulaz had looked at Keith with an expression caught somewhere between joy and heartache, like he knew him, somehow, but couldn’t acknowledge that even to himself. Ulaz had given them the coordinates to one of the Blade of Marmora’s bases, and had urged them to go there as soon as possible. Keith wanted to; it was obvious that was what he wanted without him having to say it. But he had said it after Ulaz had left them, his jaw set and his eyes burning holes into the floor as he spoke privately to Acxa and Lotor.

“I think I . . . there was something kind of . . . familiar about him. Like I knew him, maybe. And he—there was something he said, before he died, that made it seem like maybe he knew me, too. And I don’t know how, or why, but . . . maybe if I meet with the Blade like he said, I’ll figure it out.”

The logic was sound. It made sense. And it was something, Acxa knew, that Keith was fixated on, even if he didn’t bring it up regularly. But though Ulaz had infiltrated the castle six weeks ago, they had yet to trace the coordinates he had given them to visit the Blade of Marmora’s hidden base. Their delay was justified; there was always more work to be done. But all things considered, Acxa felt there was a good chance Lotor was delaying their visit on purpose.

Acxa glanced sidelong at the frown Keith was sending Zethrid’s way before she faced forward again.

It was selfish of Lotor if that was the case, but if she was honest with herself, Acxa couldn’t say she didn’t understand.

[. . .]

By now they had reached the base of the stairs leading up to another floor (there being too many of them to all cram into the elevator), and whatever had hit the castle did so with enough force to tilt it briefly up on its side. Ezor flailed and grabbed the banister, while Acxa was thrown sideways into Keith, who stumbled and barely kept his balance as she was thrown into him. Narti spread her arms and straightened her tail to keep her balance, Kova digging his claws into her shoulder, while Zethrid grabbed the other banister and Lotor was nearly thrown back off the stairs he had just started climbing. The attack (because Acxa didn’t know what else it could be) was powerful enough to cause the castleship to tremble with aftershocks even after the blow ceased; and as they all stood up, Ezor looked at the rest of them with wide eyes.

“What was—?”

The security alarms blared to life, drowning out Ezor’s voice and causing Kova to leap off Narti’s shoulder with a startled, angry yowl. In lieu of answering Ezor, Lotor tapped the communicator on his wrist, and as soon as the hologram screen flared to life above it, snapped, “Bridge, report! What’s happening?!”

“We’re being attacked by Empire fleets!” Dune, a member of Auxiliary Team One, cried. “Two, three—at least three of them, from different ang—!”

Another attack crashed into the ship, this time from the opposite side. Acxa caught herself against the wall, and held out her other hand to brace Keith was he was nearly thrown into her. Ezor and Zethrid were gripping the stairway banisters for dear life.

“Use Keith’s console to raise the particle barrier,” Lotor ordered. “We’ll be there momentarily.”

“On it!”

Dune’s voice had already been a crackle through Lotor’s communicator, but her response was even more clipped than normal as Lotor cut the communication in a sharp snap before he turned to head up the stairs again. Acxa and the others immediately hastened to follow suit, Kova climbing up Narti’s back to cling to her shoulder again, yet even as the lot of them sprinted up the staircase, Keith took the stairs two at a time to match Lotor’s strides.

“Lions?” he asked, and before Lotor had time to answer, added, “It’d be faster if we doubled back instead of going all the way to the bridge. We can get to the Lions through the Sincline hangar.”

“No,” Lotor said, and perhaps sensing the rebuttal in Keith’s frown, explained, “If we’re being attacked by this many fleets it wouldn’t be wise to counter. We’re better served using a wormhole to relocate until we can better plan our next move.”

“But how did they find us?” Acxa demanded. “Even if we leave, if we don’t know how they found us in the first place—”

“We had to have been tracked,” Zethrid said, and though Acxa agreed, that didn’t ease the knot in her throat, or the fists her fingers instinctively curled in.

“But how?” Ezor asked, a nervous frown on her lips. “Last time we were tracked by those other reality Paladins, right? By their Lions?”

“But they left a while ago,” Keith said, “and Dune didn’t say Zarkon was here. She would have mentioned it if he was.”

“If she knows what’s good for her, anyway,” Zethrid said.

“Then how did the Empire find us now?” Ezor asked. “If it wasn’t the other reality Paladins and their Lions, then what? How were we tracked?”

Lotor hadn’t broken stride the entire time they climbed the staircase. He hadn’t offered his own input, nor had he shown any indication that he heard their conversation at all. Yet as he reached the second floor he slowed, and finally came to a full stop just as Narti made it to the top of the stairs. Ezor and Zethrid, who had managed to pull ahead of him in the mad sprint up the staircase, noticed and stopped as well, both turning to look back.

“What is it?” Acxa asked.

Lotor didn’t answer her. He gave no indication to show that he even registered that she was talking to him. She was near enough to him so that she could see his profile, and while she couldn’t say why, exactly, what she saw was enough to make ice take up root in her chest. Lotor was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. Acxa opened her mouth to call out to him again, yet thought better of it in the next tick. She looked over to Keith instead.

But for once, Keith didn’t return her glance. Instead, he was watching Lotor. His eyes were narrowed, his lips tugged in a sharp frown. And slowly—so slowly that Acxa almost didn’t catch it—he palmed and raised the Black Bayard so it was level with his waist.

Acxa restrained the impulse to reach for her Bayard in turn.

The moment, which felt like hours even though it could have only been a few seconds, ended with the ferocity of a lightning strike. Lotor whipped around as though a bolt had gone through him, his eyes wild, bright, and locked on Narti. In the next tick he threw himself forward, his sword clearing its scabbard as he brought it up in a high arc—

And a ring of steel upon rift ore echoed in the corridor as his blade clashed against Keith’s, Keith having thrown himself between Lotor and Narti like a living shield.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Keith demanded. He pushed back, knocking Lotor’s sword up and away, yet though Lotor took a step back, the wild look in his eyes didn’t fade.

“Keith,” Lotor said through a clenched jaw, “move.”

“No. We’re supposed to be under attack from the Empire, not each other,” Keith snapped. “What’s your problem?”

Lotor was gripping his sword so hard his arm was shaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t think anyone could understand why you wou—” Keith froze mid-sentence, and glanced back over his shoulder. “What—?”

Keith’s voice broke, not in a yelp, but in a gasp as his spine arched and he jerked forward.

“Keith!” Acxa said, as both Ezor and Zethrid came closer. “What—?”

Her question died in her throat.

Narti had grabbed Keith. She had grabbed his arm for support, Acxa thought—had thought. She had grabbed him to give him support through whatever spasm had suddenly seized him. But the spasm wasn’t caused by anything to do with him. Three long, claw-like blades crafted from rift ore protruded through the front of Keith’s Paladin armor, dripping with his blood. They had been driven straight through, and Acxa recognized them. They all did. They were Narti’s blades, from her Bayard, as it took the same shape it always did for her. She had run them straight through Keith’s back, pushing them through until they cut open his stomach with three, evenly spaced wounds.

The one prolonged, solitary moment in which everything seemed frozen while they all processed what happened broke. Narti pushed Keith forward, and in the same moment pulled her blades out of his back. They retracted back into her Bayard with their customary shing-click as Keith—his eyes glazed even as they fluttered shut—collapsed. Lotor lurched forward, knees bent in a crouch, to catch him; his arm looped around Keith’s waist to support him as Keith sagged, limp and unresponsive, against his chest. The Black Bayard fell from Keith’s now slack grip and hit the floor with a clatter, but Lotor did not release his own weapon even as he wrapped his other arm across Keith’s back in a secure, though gentle, embrace.

Lotor’s expression was stricken, his voice strangled as he choked out, “Keith—”

The castle gave another lurch as something rammed against—it, Acxa supposed, or against the particle barrier—and though it was sudden, disruptive, and violent enough to cause them all to stumble once again, it was also enough of a shock to break through the lock her mind had slammed down in an effort to reject what had just happened. She didn’t—she didn’t want to accept it, but there Keith was, bleeding out—bleeding out in Lotor’s arms, and—

The shock, the reminder that they were under attack—it was all Lotor needed, too.

Acxa was only awarded a glimpse of his face—one tick to see not the rage, but the hatred in his eyes—before he jumped over Keith and threw himself at Narti, bringing his sword down in a vicious arc. He missed; Narti leaped backwards and hit the center of the staircase in a back handspring that allowed her to flip the rest of the way down.

Lotor wasn’t deterred. He didn’t hesitate for a heartbeat as he tore down the staircase after her. And Ezor, her eyes wide as she realized everything that was happening—

“No . . . Lotor, no!”

—she, too, sprinted right by Keith and took off after.

Ezor was chasing Lotor, who was chasing Narti, who was trying to escape, but Acxa had no time for any of them. She didn’t register when she hit her knees by Keith’s side, or even what she was going to do as she grasped Keith’s shoulders to try to pull him up, but the moment she realized what she was doing—as the reality of the situation kicked in, and she fought against the urge to kick herself for not taking command of the situation sooner, before it reached this point—she said, “Zethrid!”

“Yup.”

Acxa stood and stumbled backward as Zethrid swept forward and easily hauled Keith up off the floor.

[thesolitarystripe]

Any World of Warcraft Fans?

This is a scene I have been sitting on for, forever. Well, since last expansion. I write a lot of lore about my guild and original character in the game World of Warcraft. While I do not own any of Blizzard Entertainment’s characters or anything else in the world of Azeroth, Tindyl’s story is absolutely my own. If anyone was curious, I dreamt up this scene while listening to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7kF4MXXCoA

There is also a second part to this scene that came to mind later on and over a different song so I may write that up next, or at some point. Anyway, this was fun. It’s nice to get away from the writing prompts every once in a while and write something else. If people enjoy the Tindyl series, I have a lot of content written about her that I would be happy to share and elaborate on. Most of these characters have been written about and introduced in all the previous writings I’ve made but they are all based on actual raiders in my guild. Some are still here and some are not. If they weren’t given a name within the story, it is safe to assume they are no longer in my life but they included in the story because sometimes side characters don’t stick around forever. 

If you’re a WoW nerd too, let me know!

Let go.

That insidious voice. It spoke, it wouldn’t stop speaking.

Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it.

Tindyl blinked wildly, as if the words were made of acid, blistering her eyes and eyes as shadows clouded her horizon. Where was she? The voices of her allies seemed so far away. “Tindyl!” That was…who? The archdruid settled her hand against her forehead, knee coming down to the fleshy ground stained a sickening purple with hues of crimson pustules and jagged openings like wounds etched inside flesh. Ny’alotha. The Waking City. Wasn’t that where she was? Tindyl looked at the ground but saw only grass; her hand pressed flat against the blades that were no longer the emerald green of her childhood but black and charred. Swiftly, her head shot up and her skin was painted in streaks of orange. Fire. So much fire. Teldrassil! Tindyl was off her knees and running, the screams of her kin drowning out the whispering that sucked her deeper into madness. The Kaldorei leapt over a fallen branch, the limb blazing upon what was once scared ground. Their home. Two feet turned into four, claws printing in deep against the soot covered ground as the long feline body surged forward.

“An’da!” Tindyl was running toward the fleeting shadow of a male night elf. The large figure shapeshifted from elf to bear. Her father, it had to be. She could see him in the distance, tossing others over his hulking shoulders and carrying them out of the flames that engulfed their home. The smoke was suffocating, she choked on its thick plumes but didn’t dare slow her pace as she ran after her father—she had not seen him in…She had not seen him since Teldrassil fell. Tindyl stopped, body transfiguring again until she was whole and back upon two legs. A night elf. “An’da,” her voice was softer, weary eyes following the shade of her father who never looked back. She had lost him already. This was not reality.

All alone in the depths…

That voice. Tindyl covered her ears, grit her teeth and shook her head, eyes falling closed against the deceit spread before her. These visions were not her own, her father was already dead.

“Tindyl!” The night elf opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. The world had returned, her present moment. The images of Teldrassil, the fallen, the smoke and blood, vanished. She knew that voice. Tindyl turned her head and saw her dearest friend, the pandaren’s hand was outstretched as if the physical contact would solidify her friend in time and space. They just needed to touch. All around them the eyes of The Corruptor sprouted out of the ground, shrieking and hideous. Tindyl’s eyes swept the battlefield, taking account of her people and those that still stood. Her guild fought bravely, fighting against their own demons surely as N’zoth infiltrated the quiet corners of their minds. She turned to Kagurah, took a single step before she staggered backward in the face of an enraged ally. Their paladin. He had succumbed to the madness.

“Highlord,” Tindyl held out a hand, but the man was charging toward her with sword drawn. “Forgive me,” she whispered as her hands pushed forward and the winds of their natural word rushed out from her fingertips. The gust knocked the paladin back but only stalled him. Kagurah summoned a totem, seeing the change in their once trusted ally who now sought to see their leader’s blood. Before the totem’s effect could stop the human, a great hammer brimming with light struck Tindyl and brought her, stunned, to her knees.

“Tindyl!” Tindyl knew that voice, even in her weakened state where her limbs would not obey her mind. Her warrior. Eyes flickered over and caught the fading vision of her lover, his black hair whipping around his face as he thrust his sword up and into one of the looming eyes; his shield was held up to block a counter assault as he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch the hammer drop and strike down the Archdruid. Tindyl wished she could have comforted him. The look of worry on his face made her heart sink. That was her last thought as she flopped backward, lying upon the ground where the paladin had stunned her. Everything grew dim, the edges of her vision blurred. There was a vague recognition of Kagurah’s magic swirling about her in attempt to heal but Tindyl was sinking, being swallowed up by the darkness. It was quiet, almost…comforting.

“Tindyl.” A new voice. No, an old voice. “Tindyl.” How much time had passed between Tindyl’s body thumping against the ground to the moment her eyes peeled open, she couldn’t say but when she opened them and the haze began to clear away, she looked up at the ethereal form of her father.

“An’da?” Her voice croaked as if it had been unused for centuries. Her father’s arms slipped beneath hers, seeming to lift her up.

“On your feet,” he commanded gently, his face more tender than Tindyl ever remembered seeing it before. There was so much left unsaid between them after she had chosen to join the Alliance. Bai’len, the Guardian druid set like thick roots in his old ways—he disagreed with her choice and more so, hated her pursuance of healing magics. Tindyl’s lips parted as if to speak but all she could manage was to stare at him, eyes glittering even in the dank lighting of the old god’s lair. “Do you not remember who you are? Where you’ve come from? Your people are with you now.” As her father spoke, Tindyl looked away only for a moment and felt more sets of hands pressing her spine upward, setting her on her feet. She saw the ghostly white fingers that held her up in tandem with the strong arms of her father.

“An’da, I’m sorry.” Tindyl wept silently, tears cascading down her cheeks as the light within her faded.

“My child,” Bai’len’s rough fingers curled around Tindyl’s jaw, dwarfing her. “Stand firm in who you are. Feel the strength of your ancestors restore you. Remember who you are and who you were meant to be, hm?” Tindyl’s brow furrowed as her father looked out to where her allies still fought, even in the wake of her loss. They were covered in blood, some brought to their knees as weapons were knocked from their grasp. N’zoth was slithering into their minds, exposing their grief over the fallen Kaldorei and sinking into their souls. “Save them.” Bai’len looked at Tindyl. “Elune makes no mistakes,” his hand shifted from her jaw to the plump curve of her cheek. “Heal them.” The permission to use her gifts from her father. It was like a door had opened within her heart. Tindyl’s arms flew up above her, eyes searching for the light that beamed down upon her like Elune herself reached down her moonlit tendrils and washed away the corruption from her favored druid’s mind. The peaceful rains of Tranquility fell over their party. Hibikami, once brought to his knee felt the renewal of his ferocity, scraped up his axe and heaved it in one mighty blow. The weapon sliced through the air and planted within the sclera of one of N’zoth’s eyes. The creature wailed and fell. The dwarf laughed, sprinted forward to collect his weapon only to chop down another crying stalk. Kagurah looked to where Tindyl’s body had rested when she felt the rain, it could have only come from their Archdruid.

All the while, Bai’len held his daughter, smiling. Tindyl’s eyes had left the spotlight that Elune shined down upon her, glued now to her father’s face. She wanted to stay in the moment for the rest of her long life. Bai’len looked down at her and their eyes met. They regarded one another for several moments before Tindyl was snatched out of her father’s arms. The druid yelped softly, tumbling across the floor and into the torso of their human priest. A life grip.

“Tindyl, are you alright?” The human was touching her shoulder, but the moment Tindyl righted herself and crawled back on her knees she was looking back toward where her father had held her. Where she’d felt the embrace of her people holding her up. They were all gone. Breath came in short, rapid puffs as she held her gaze longer, hopeful that Bai’len would return. It was nothing more than a fleeting vision sent to her by Elune, perhaps. “Archdruid!”

“I’m fine,” she said suddenly, coming to her senses and feeling the weight of her responsibility. While she grieved upon the ground her guild still fought. A quick swipe at her eyes and she was nodding. “I’m fine,” she said again as she rose to her feet. The priest stood with her; hands latched on to Tindyl’s arm. There was a lull in the fight. Everyone paused and looked to her both with relief and concern. They were taxed. Exceedingly tired. “My friends,” she panted softly, seeing the despair in their eyes. Tindyl shook her head, “do not succumb to the darkness, drown out the whispers of N’zoth. Stand firm in who you are.” The words of her father echoed within the grotesque halls, and she felt emboldened. “Do not forget why you are here, why we fight.” Tindyl bared her canines, “For Azeroth!” A rally of cries reverberated the air, sending a new pulsing energy through their party. Tindyl’s body conformed to the four-legged feline once more, she leapt through the air, claws sinking in to a newly sprouted eye. It shrieked as her fangs sunk into its bulbous head, it bled and wilted to the ground. The cat sprinted alongside Kagurah, rubbing along the Pandaren’s hip once as they exchanged a look. ‘Don’t die on me again.’ Tindyl could hear it now. The cat grinned, a growl wrapped around it before the two dove back into battle.

Back-to-back they fought. Wisps of water flowed up and out as Kagurah spread her healing rain and the leaves of Tindyl’s magic swirled around her allies, mending their wounds. Their third healer, the priest, joined them a glittering ring formed around him and pulsed outward to strengthen and heal their allies. Together, they would save their home. For the Alliance, for the horde, and for all the lives lost throughout the trials of both sides.

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Redemption, My Love

Chapter 8 update Cross posted to AO3 Rated Explicit Important tags: In depth tags warning can be found on AO3)  Lancewain, Slowburn, Found Family, Eventual smut, Warnings for abuse (emotional, physical, mental) of a child, Rape/ Non Con, Self harm, and the rest of the tags that come almost implicitly with an Lancelot/Weeping Monk centered fic.  Side note: Everything happening with NImue and Merlin and the Fey takes place at the same time as the events from chapters 1-6. 

++++Arthur++++

Arthur is locked in discussion with the Red Spear. It is vital they become allies, he knows this, without her and her warriors the Fey would have been wiped out today. There would be none of them left in this group. He would have failed to protect them as Nimue requested.  He must convince them that the Fey are worthy warriors, capable of returning the support of the raiders. For now the most important aspect of discussion is the vulnerability of the beach. If a storm blows in or the tides change, they could be trapped here. Tonight, remaining on the beach is their only option with so many wounded, but tomorrow they must find a more formidable location. Perhaps they can go back to the woods. “We should send scouts at dawn. Then we may burn the dead. When the scouts have returned we will move our injured.” “Aye.” The Red Spear agrees, then continues, “ Supplies will be short with so many mouths to feed. What would you recommend for it?”

“We should ration, immediately. Send out hunters into the woods to bring back whatever they can to offset the difference. And send those who can pass for humans into the nearest town with funds to buy what we can.”  He stands firm beneath the intensity of her gaze. He could swear it's as if she is looking through him, or perhaps she is looking into him. Setting his jaw he forces himself to meet her gaze and finds himself captivated by the angles of her face and the odd jewelry she wears. Shouting pulls him from his distraction and he turns to face a young boy running towards him. “Arthur! It's Nimue, she’s returned with Merlin and Morganna. Hurry, she's been injured!” He follows the boy across red sand, feet pushing against a malleable surface, slowing him as he attempts to reach his lover as quickly as possible. When he turns to call an apology to the Red Spear he finds that she is keeping pace with them. The boy slows to a halt and pants just ahead of him. Pushing through the crowd he comes to a stop, nostrils flaring as he inhales and chest rising and falling quickly.  He watches as Yeva sends Pym to gather something for her and ushers two boys carrying Nimues limp form into a tent. The Moonwing casts a glance and Merlin and despite her obvious disdain for the man, nods, then shakes her head and enters the tent. Pym passes by him and he reaches out grabbing her arm in a vice-like hold. She meets his eyes and he loosens his hold minutely. “Will she be alright?” “We don’t know yet. I have to go and help.” She pushes his hand away and  moves quickly towards the tent. Not quite a run but far from a walk. Her red hair flies freely in the breeze where it has fallen out of its braid, and for a moment he is taken back to the first moment he met these two girls, singing in Hawksbridge. That day feels so long ago. “The girl they carried into the tent. She is Queen of The Fey?” “Yes.” “And is she more than that to you.” He nods, throat to dry from lack of water to speak, and constricted with fear to function. Frantic voices draw his attention and he glances towards Merlin who is speaking urgently with his sister. His feet drag in the sand as he makes his way to their side. “Morgana what happened? Why are you dressed like that?” “It’s a long story Arthur. Nimue was shot twice by Iris. There wasn’t… we couldn’t do anything. She fell off the edge of the walk and into the waterfall. Arthur, we barely found her. She’s freezing cold, cold as death.” “Yeva, is skilled. She will heal Nimue. I am certain.” Merlin suggests, voice shaken but firm in its conviction. “What about you? You're thousands of years old. You're her father. Why don’t you do something?”  Morgana snaps back at him furiously, face drawn tight, and arms wrapped tightly around herself. “ I have not practiced my magic in almost two decades. I'm not sure I can help her. Even if I was certain I wouldn't do more harm than good, Yeva will not let me work beside her. When she is done I will do my absolute best to repair any remaining damage. For now, we must be patient.” The wizard says, inclining his head and leaning heavily on the sword pushed into the sand. His staff gone missing in the fray. Arthur bares his teeth, ready to say something else, to argue, start a fight, but it leaves him just as fast when a hand rests gently on his bicep. His sister looks up at him and he pulls her into an embrace. “Are you hurt?” “No. No I am not. But I have done something I fear cannot be undone.” She trembles in his arms and he can do nothing more than pull her closer, he never could shield her from the world, and now less than ever. He wants to help, but without knowing what has happened he cannot. 

“Morgana? Morgana, what is it?” “Later my brother. Later. For now let us worry about Nimue.”  He mutely agrees and looks between the two as he formulates what needs to be done next. The next thing is the only thing he can think of at this moment or he will go mad. There is so much to consider, so much still to do. Instead he begins to lead them towards the center of the camp. They linger a moment looking at the healers tent before he speaks. 

“You two must be hungry. Let us get you something in your stomachs and dry clothing.”

 None of them will sleep tonight. Not well at least, even with dry clothes and full bellies. So, as they sit around the fire in silence, waiting for whatever news the morning may bring, Morgana and Merlin take their turns explaining what occurred at Uther’s camp. Morgana tells him about Nimue’s plan for her to flee with the sword and how she decided to come back. He listens as she tells him and Merlin about how she had met the widow, and that she had killed her. As he listens to his sister speak, the belief that she is hiding something from him rears its ever present  head and settles low in his gut. Their relationship is tenuous at best and he knows it, so he does not press for clarification or more answers. Just listens silently, idly drumming his fingers against his leg and casting furtive glances at the tent whose walls hide Nimue from them. Neither Pym nor Yeva nor the others have come to tell them anything. Eventually Morgana stops speaking and Merlin begins to explain what Uther has done. “Guinevier, The Red Spear, should hear this as well. She and her troops have agreed to help us, if we in return help them against Cumber’s men. It seems we have a common enemy in him, and now Uther as well.” “And the Paladins?” Morgana inquires looking between them and towards the direction of the raiders. “The raiders have been sacking their camps as repayment for raiding the cities before they get a chance. It is to our benefit.” He offers a small smile to his sister. “Nimue left you in charge, did she?” Merlin adds, looking into the fire. “Yes. She did, is there a problem with that?”  He raises his eyebrow in question and stares at the exhausted looking man. “No. I just find it curious is all.” He aches to slap the smirk off his wine drinking grin. Instead he sends someone to fetch the Red Spear. As they wait the sounds of the camp fill their ears. It is the sound of a war camp. The moans of the injured surround them on all sides in the dark of the night. The chill of the sea breeze billows the tent walls around them and carries the sound of death up the cliffs and over the fields. Whetstone on steel is a comfort against the cries of the heartbroken and injured. Morgana shifts to his right and he turns. “You wish to go help them?” “I would be more useful trying to save a life than sitting here worrying.” She agrees as she stands and disappears into the shadows. Merlin shakes his head and drinks deeply from the goblet in his hand.

When the raider joins them the three discuss the political game they have found themselves in. The Fey have their backs against a wall. If the Paladins, Uther, and now Cumber have sided with each other against them their only real hope is to side with the Red Spear and her raiders. Even then, there is little guarantee that any of them will survive.  

++++Pym++++

Even inside the tent it is cold. She shivers against the breeze and watches as Yeva sets up to begin working. She swallows away the tightness in her throat and approaches cautiously. “I want to help.” “Get her hair dry and get her out of these clothes. The last thing she needs is to catch cold.” The Moonwing bites out as she turns half way around to size Pym up. Half blind eyes meet hers and she wonders how this woman can still see to be a healer. Jumping at Yevas sudden proximity over the table she starts to unlace Nimues bodice with trembling fingers. It takes far too long to undress her friend and get her covered by blankets. Yeva works around her with little difficulty. She is grateful for that small mercy. If she were in the way she isn’t certain she could live with that. For now she stands at the head of the table they’ve laid Nimue on and towels long chestnut locks. 

She doesn’t take her eyes off Yeva as she works. It is inspiring to see old hands, twisted with time and tipped with talons work so delicately with the skin beneath their touch. The shoulder is the most logical place to begin as the arrow has already come loose but Yeva ignores it, looking instead at the bruising forming on Nimue’s head, and sides. She runs her hands over the young Fey’s arms and legs, feeling for broken bones, then down her ribs. “Feel this.” She speaks, low and raspy and Pym jumps again, not having expected for such a request to come from the matron. She extends her shaky hand and Yeva takes it, presses it against Nimue’s ribs and slides it up and down letting her feel just how real the damage is. “She must have hit a lot of rocks when she fell.” The whisper falls from her lips unbidden. It’s stupid. Surely, Yeva has already thought the same thing, but instead of telling her off the woman looks at her and asks, “Why do you think I haven’t started with the arrow wounds?”  With hesitation, Pym considers the options carefully. She isn’t really certain, but there is not a lot of blood which means she should be concerned about infection. “They aren't bleeding? So, it gives you time to look for other injuries?” Yeva meets her eyes and gives a nod. “Now what should we do first?” “Why are you asking me? You're the healer.”  Frustration fills her voice and she tries her best to keep it out but can’t. Her friend is dying and Yeva is standing there asking her questions instead of healing her. “You wanted to help. I am teaching you.”  The old woman answers calmly, turning her back to the girls and reaching for several supplies. Indignant, Pym comes to stand by her, crossing her arms and jutting her chin out. “Well then teach me something!” The glare Yeva sends her way makes her spine tingle, slowly she steps back and lets her arms fall to her sides. “Sorry.” She looks to the ground. “Do not apologize to me. Do better.” The woman says thrusting a bowl half filled with water at her. “Clean the wound on her shoulder.” “Shouldn’t I add something to the water?” “I already have. Now go on.” She doesn't waste another moment to do as instructed and sets about cleaning the wound as best she can. It isn’t very deep into the tissue of the shoulder but she can see the edge of the bone when the debris has been cleared away. “Yeva, I can see the bone of her shoulder. And the skin is hot to the touch.”  The Moonwing healer looks up from her concentration on the arrow lodged in Nimue’s stomach and lets out a long sigh. “Prepare a poultice of yarrow, beeswax and pepper for now. Apply it thickly and wrap it.” Moving away from the table, she finds the ingredients she needs on the table, the flickering light of the candles dancing ominously at the periphery of her vision. Focusing on her task she wills away the tears seeking to fall from the corners of her eyes away and mixes the ingredients. When she turns back around to apply the salve to the wound she finds Yeva cleaning the one on Nimues abdomen. This one does bleed. A lot. She knows from her time on the raider ship that the arrow was keeping the wound sealed. Applying the mixture to Nimues shoulder she watches the matron wipe blood from the entry site and flush the wound out with a mixture of herbs and water. When done she packs the wound with yarrow leaf and applies the rest of the poultice to the outside of the wound and wraps it tight. 

“We cannot stitch these, they are puncture wounds and there is infection in them. We must leave them open to drain. We will check them twice a day. Keep them clean and dressed until she is well. Until then we must keep her warm, and when she wakes keep her from pain as much as possible. Her lungs will ache, as will her leg.” “Her leg?”  The look Yeva gives her could curdle milk, still she does not look away. “What is wrong with her leg?” “It is broken.” “What can we do?” “Thankfully the bone does not need to be set. We must keep it still, until it has mended itself. Go and get the supplies for a splint. You know what's needed?” “Yes.” When it is done, the bone splinted, the wounds wrapped, Pym sits beside Nimue. She holds her cold hand in the darkness of the tent and weeps, keeping vigil until she falls unconscious with the first rays of morning light rising over the sea. ++++Percival++++ “What do we do?” He casts his eyes forward to The Green Knight, then turns to look up at The Weeping Monk. He can feel his blood run cold at the thought of being captured. He remembers the smell of hot iron and burning flesh, old blood and vomit that lingered in the tent he found Gawain tortured in, the one Lancelot rescued him from, and his heart hammers in his chest at it. He remembers the sight of blood, old and dried and cracking, splattered on every surface. The way Gawain looked, bloodied and half dead, slumped against the ropes in the chair. He blinks. Head spinning, he tries to settle his stomach. Someone is speaking but it's like they are miles and miles away and he can barely hear them screaming over the rapid pulse of blood in his ears. He feels like he’s drowning. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of noise and it makes it so much worse. He feels like he’s falling over. “Percival! Percival.” 

There is commotion around him and his right shoulder hurts as if someone has wrenched it behind his back but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. 

“Squirrel? Are you alright? Squirrel.”

He blinks and looks up at The Green Knight and The Weeping Monk, hand on his side and face screwed up in pain, both standing over him. He swallows and tries to take a deep breath as he attempts to sit up. “Careful,” Gawain says, voice steady and calm, though Percival can see the worry creased between his eyes. The Weeping Monk, looms over them both like an ominous statue, watching, he turns, takes a deep breath and winces. “They’re getting closer.” He says turning to look back at them. “Sorry,” Percival starts, looking between them as he runs his sleeve over the sweat on his brow, “What happened?” The shouting in the background grows louder. “We will talk about it later. We need to go. Come on, up you go.” Gawain pulls him along and he climbs up on the mare. He watches him turn to Lancelot. “You said five or six?” “Yes. But it's not exact. It’s never been exact.” “If we need to engage can you fight?” “Yes.” “Alright. We will try to slip away unnoticed. If that fails…” The Weeping Monk nods at him solemn and dark beneath his hood and they both return to the saddle. 

  “Are you going to give him the sword?” He whispers as he leans back against Gawain. He raises an arm up to block a low hanging branch, and The Green Knight does the same. “If I have to.” The response is breathed against his ear as they lean low. “Left!” Lancelot calls from behind, Gawain glances over his shoulder and Lancelot has already cut to the inside, putting himself in the lead. They follow another trail into a valley.  Gawain hot on his heels. When they reach the center, Lancelot breaks off and pulls his horse in a circle. It almost seems like he is looking for something. “Why is he circling like that?” “I don’t know yet.”  

The Weeping Monk comes to a halt facing them, both horses stepping side to side in excitement. 

“The woods are teeming with Paladins. The only way I don’t smell them is directly behind us, and that direction is about to be cut off.”  Percival swallows and tries to keep himself calm. The Green Knight tightens his hold on him for a moment before releasing him. “Then you recommend we fight our way out?”

Lancelot only nods, eyes never leaving Gawain's face. Percival inhales sharply and looks around the spot they have found themselves in. It’s not very defensible. “We need to get up higher.” He says automatically. Both the men with him know this, but he can’t help himself. They should be moving. “You’re right.” Gawain inhales sharply behind him and they fall into unmoving silence. “What are you waiting for, we need to go.” He feels Gawain shift behind him. “Here.” The Weeping Monk eyes the sword for a moment, before nodding slowly. Once the blade is in hand, they climb the otherside of the valley and lead the horses into a thicket. “Percival. Stay here with the horses. Do you understand?” The firmness in Gawain's voice is almost frightening as a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. “Yes. Green Knight.”  He nods urgently and tightens his hand on the hilt of his knife. 

Lancelot whispers something softly to Goliath and hands him the reins. “We should cut back across the valley and take them by surprise.” He watches as Gawain stands and meets the monks eyes again. The two stand at arms length to speak, they can’t give away their location now. “How many now?”  Lancelot adjusts the sword on his belt. “The initial six behind us, another four ahead, and two or three to the right.” “And further this direction?” Gawain points south. “A camp, from what I can tell. Too many to be a scouting or hunting party.” The Green Knight opens his mouth to say something but the monk moves quicker covering it with his hand and using the other to push Gawain further into the brush. Gawain retaliates quickly drawing a knife and pressing it against the others ribs poised to pierce his heart. Lancelot doesn’t flinch. Percival watches in horror as it unfolds to fast for him to help. When they’ve come to a stop barely a foot from him, Lancelot removes his hand from Gawain's chest and holds up an open hand, defensively and tilts his head to the opposite side of the thicket. Gawain, eyes wide, does not move the knife, but gives a slight nod. Lancelot takes a single step backwards and they listen in silence for what seems an eternity.  “Good catch today?” Someone asks. “Good catch? Those are the scrawniest rabbits I’ve ever seen. Barely fit for a stew.” Another supplies gruffly. “At least I caught us something” Another paladin says followed by laughter.  Lancelot tightens his grip on the sword hilt and Gawain does the same, dagger still not lowered, attention caught between the possible enemy and the certain enemy. Percival swallows, they can’t see how many there are. It would be reckless to attack now, but as time drags on the voices grow quieter again. He takes a deep breath. Looks between the two who are watching him and nods. He’s okay. He’s okay. He repeats the line over and over again in his head until he begins to believe it. “What if we wait till nightfall?” He whispers when there have been no signs of the paladins for a while. “Horses could give us away any minute. We need to move.” Gawain murmurs into the air between them. Lancelot nods once in agreement. Slowly the three of them start for the exit of the brushwood. Gawain lets Lancelot lead and Percival doesn’t understand why, but he trusts the Green Knight to know what he is doing. They make it back to the other side of the valley they had crossed before anyone speaks again. “Well then, Monk?” “It’s getting hard to sense their locations. It’s all bleeding together. Two of the groups must have come together here.” Lancelot says turning in a slow circle.  “I do not know which way is safest.” He shakes his head at them. “We need to continue southwest. We should press on, get as far from here as possible before nightfall.” The Green Knight states firmly. There is no room for either of them to argue, not that they would have anyways. The monk mounts his horse and follows beside Gawain in silence. Percival keeps his eyes peeled as they move slowly through the woods. He thinks they should be moving much quicker. 

Eventually they pass by a small stream and rest for a moment. It's at the edge of the woods. The sun is beginning to fade from the sky. Percival drinks deeply from the clear stream and stretches. He feels a little better, still uncertain, still sick to his stomach, and ignorant of how he got on the ground earlier. But the pounding in his head has stopped and while he hates to admit it he hopes he never has to see a paladin again for a very long time. “Should we keep going?” He finally asks when the horses have been fed, watered and tethered and the other two have had a moment to sit. “We will be too exposed in the field.” “We’re too exposed here.” The Weeping Monk counters, softly, voice low enough it would be easy to miss in the commotion of a camp. 

Gawain shakes his head in frustration. Even Percival knows The Weeping Monk is right. “What are the paladins doing all the way out here anyways?” Squirrel asks, trying for casual, but the waver in his voice gives him away and he shrinks under the appraising gazes of the warriors to either side of him. “Search parties most likely.” Lancelot responds offhandedly taking a sip from a waterskin. “Not a main camp then.” “No. More likely, it is a base they spread out from, but it would have no more than 15 or 20 men. Three to five forming a party.” “Hunting Fey.” Percival looks at the ground, even he flinches at the venom in Gawain's voice, but Lancelot does not shy away, “Yes.” The admission slips from his mouth like ash thrown in the air. Percival stands abruptly, panic flooding his body with adrenaline. “What about our prints?” He looks desperately between the two men who also make their way to their feet. They share a knowing look. In its wake Percival feels a stab of betrayal low in his gut as he looks up first at the Green Knight and then at The Weeping Monk. How dare they share something with each other and not him? Hasn’t he known Gawain longer? Besides that, they are supposed to be protectors and they’ve left him vulnerable. They are supposed to protect the fey. Protect each other, now. Protect him. “Percival.” Gawain starts, kneeling to look him in the eye, he pulls away from the hand that tries to rest on his shoulder and inhales harshly. The ring of steel forces him to turn, Lancelot stands facing them, sword in hand. Gawain is too slow. Percival feels a burn like fire across his face as blood soaks his hair and clothes. The ground meets his face and he rolls, instinctively getting to his feet. He turns and draws his knife from his belt but he can't see through the blood in his eyes. 

[megashadowdragon]

ironwoods tragic fall from grace

comments on youtube

When a hero becomes the villain, all hell breaks loose. Especially when the fallen hero is general of the Atlesian army.

The only thing that I noticed was that Ironwood has constantly grown a Beard as time passes. He's slowly decending towards from Hero to Villain as a "Fallen Hero" Catagory. James Ironwood WAS a good man, utterly dedicated to protecting his people. It was with the best of intentions that he charged down the path he’s taken... but you know what they say about good intentions.

I didn’t think his semblance was much of a factor into his decisions before Vol 7 but now as he’s become more unhinged every chapter, it’s becoming even more strikingly obvious that he’s become a slave to it. The fact that his semblance increases his resolve to go through with bargaining with Watts, willing to blow up Mantle just to save Atlas.

He's like the antithesis of Leonardo Lionheart

You know, this is a really good counter for all those people saying Ironwood is suffering character assassination. He's not. He's giving in to fear and letting his worst aspects take command.

I’m personally asking again why would the writers talk about something like Ironwood’s semblance outside the show when for the most part the majority of people only watches the show, that’s like how the Russo brothers (the writers and directors of Avengers Infinity War and Endgame) choose to answer the hows and why on Twitter when the majority of people are only watching the movies I personally love those movies but it also would’ve been nice to see those things get explained or talked about in the movies just like how it would be nice to at least mention Ironwood’s semblance in the show

Honestly, I love what they're doing with Ironwood. His slow, inexorable descent into extremism is a wonderful exploration of how an idealistic person who believes themself to be the hero can tumble into villainy without trusting others to keep them grounded. It's the very real problem of the philosophy of "The ends justify these particular means;" if you can justify one morally gray decision to achieve a good goal, it gets easier to justify the next, darker gray decision. Without someone outside to call you on your bullshit, you're eventually justifying genocide because it will be for the "greater good."

Ironwood is literally the Darth Vader of RWBY. He starts of as a respectable character, commanding his own army for the good of all. But he gives in to all of his fears, looses a limb or 2, and slowly turns misguidedly evil, willing to kill ANYONE who stands in his way.

I've said before that Team Rwby is a foil to the Headmasters. Ruby keeping secrets like Oz, Leo/Blake, the faunus who ran away when things got hard, and Ironwood's parallel is Yang.

Not just obvious stuff, like both having metal arms. But both of their semblances are double edged sword. Yang get stronger taking damage, but if she leans on it too much, an enemy that takes one hit just destroys her since she can't fight back. Volume 4 has her training with Taiyang to correct this flaw in her thinking, leading to her overcoming Adam in her rematch in V6.

Ironwood's semblance can be incredibly powerful. Just off the top of my head, he basically no sells the Apathy, which is an incredibly dangerous Grimm in a group with other, stronger Grimm. But it has downsides, and we're seeing it. The correct way to use it is after you've made a choice, to focus on the task at hand. But making large choices while under the semblance is not smart. He's too focused on one action to see others that have opened. Atlas has to be raised, because that's what he's already decided to do. The idea that they've made contact with the world and reinforcements might be coming never entered his mind. Similarly, he's so focused on forcing Penny to heel that he's not seeing he has a chance to have her come willingly by aiding in Mantle's rescue.

He's so focused on winning this one battle (Having Penny raise the city to escape Salem immediately) that's he's making choices to doom the larger war (defending the kingdom's people, defeating Salem, reuniting the world).

He clearly knows that it isn't smart to rely on it this way, since he's shown the ability to take criticism and adjust his thinking in Volume 7 (Nora would've been Slate'd if he couldn't). But the combination of Yang/Blake going behind his back to tell Robyn, Ruby/Oscar not telling him the truth, Qrow seemingly killing Clover, and, right when he thought that he'd saved everyone, the idea that every single thing he's done might've been exactly what Salem wanted has fairly understandably shaken his faith in the others around him. He can't rely on them to rein him in, he has to do that... which is exactly the problem with his semblance. If the only person who can stop you is yourself, and you're convinced you're always right, you've doomed yourself.

I'm assuming that he could probably be talked down by Glynda or potentially Oz or Qrow (fat chance of that one) if they can break his aura, but as it stands, unless someone beats him down, he's not going to be able to stop himself.

With Ironwood I am reminded of a very profound quote from CS Lewis, that I feel summarizes him very well: "Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. This very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be “cured” against one’s will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level of those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals."Show less

Dude Ironwood didn't have a problem with trusting people and didn't have a mentality of not being able to trust people. He trusted to much and trusted people who both betrayed his trust (Yang/Blake) and didn't reciprocate the trust he gave them (Ruby and the rest of the main cast). Honestly, he would have been perfectly right to have immediately put the relic of knowledge into the vault at the start of v7 and then send the students on their way and have nothing more to do with them.

Ironwood saw Atlas and his fleet as a way to inspire hope. It's ironic that his plan was one of lifting them up so high that nobody would ever be able to see them anymore.

My only criticism with Ironwood is that I really really wish his semblance was brought up in the show. Are they ever going to bring it up? I absolutely LOVE how he has been written and watching his tragic descent into becoming a villain but having his semblance mentioned in show would be great. Is someone going to have to break his aura or something before he or someone else mentions it?

In a way he is. His semblance is a double edge sword, as someone in Ironwood's position is all about making calls. Ironwood was able to climb through the ranks because his semblance allowed him to follow through with his actions to save people (I also still wonder what happend to halve of his body as he already had a metal leg and arm in volume 2, we can asume the paladin project, but some confirmation would be wonderfull). Now he's following through on his words agains Salem, that Ironwood isn't going to let Salem take the relic of creation. Ironwood essentially only has this thought he is focused on and is disregarding everything else. Right now Salem is piecing herself together again and Penny is going to the vault, if Ironwood semblance of Mettle wasn't interfering he would be able to see the bigger picture of let Penny open the vault, take out the staff of cration and chuck whatever goop Salem is right now with the bit of land she is piecing herself on right now and throw that into the vault and close it for good by blocking off the entrance with concrete. Voila. Ironwood doesn't notice at this point his actions as he even thought councilman Slate, who was asking Ironwood to explain his action got put down by Ironwood himself. Same for Marrow later on, but Winter was able to step in. Ironwood needs to be saved from this mindset and I think the team up of Qrow and Robyn (also who ever was on the elevator, I think it was Winter and Marrow as Winter was taking him away to be put in jail) could save Ironwood to the point of breaking his aura that way the influence of Mettle will loosen.

Gonna be honest, I dislike the whole concept of his semblance and it being what's driving him to this is just dumb to me. I loved him as a character and this entire volume feels like every bit that made him an interesting character has been ripped away. It's likely just me, but prior to Oscar using the built-up magic to beat Salem it felt like they had painted themselves into a corner. Either Ironwood was proven right that some sacrifices had to be made for the good of the people, or Salem was going to be beaten and even if she can come back, she no longer feels like a huge threat to me. I loved Ironwood in volume seven and many of team RWBY's choices have infuriated me for how contrived and stupid they manage to be while also contradicting themselves so easily. To be frank, I feel like his semblance was just an excuse for this utterly stupid character assassination they're trying to justify.Show less

I kind of feel like the writers 'forced' Ironwood to become a villain. Some of his decisions just don't make sense.

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt16:Royal Court

Flynt:Well look who it is!? Wasn’t expecting to be sent back to the past like this.

Veronica:Nice to see you too Mr. Smooth Criminal.

Flynt:I see your mom gave you her wittiness too.

Veronica:Hardly. If you hear me crack a pun then check to see if I have the flu or something.

Flynt:I meant Blake.

Veronica:Oh…not, not sure how I should take that.

Flynt:Don’t think about it too much. So you’re here to help set everything up? Well we sure don’t mind all the extra hands; more helpers mean more time for everyone to rest. Unless you’re a crazy person who doesn’t know how to rest.

Nick:Gee I didn’t realize Atlas became Shade. Always picking on me for the little things.

Flynt:All in good fun. Well Veronica, glad to have you. I won’t lie to you and say our school holds the most welcoming environment despite their reasons for being here, so don’t hesitate to come get me if anything serious happens.

Veronica:Thanks for the offer but I know how to handle myself and a few close minded simpletons.

Flynt:Somehow I have no doubt about that.

He grabbed a pin that said committee on his desk and put it on her shirt. Veronica bowed slightly before taking her leave. It was always interesting for Nick seeing the girl be so polite. The way she could flip between her manners with anyone so fast was always something she was good at. He once saw her go from shaking a man’s hand to punching them in the face in the blink of an eye.

Flynt:Is your sister here today?

Nick:I’ll hunt her down if she isn’t, why?

Flynt:Only asking. I know I tell you to let others handle their own workload but I advise you to keep an eye on Veronica just in case.

Nick:Trust me, Veronica might have a temper but she typically thinks things through; the school won’t get a bad-

Flynt:I don’t care about this place’s reputations, or my position for that matter. Your friend just looks like she’s nearing the end of her rope.

Nick:Really? What gives you that vibe?

Flynt:When you partner up with a cat faunus, you learn a thing or two. As far as tails go, it usually isn't good when they’re wrapped around the waist and all tense; almost like she’s hugging or bracing herself.

Nick:When does Neon do it.

Flynt:When she’s being defensive. Keep in mind I could be entirely wrong in Veronica’s case though. Just something to be aware of.

Nick:Hmm interesting. Thanks for the heads up.

Nicholas gave his principal a wave before heading out, his words taken to heart. ‘Maybe Yang was right to worry?’ He chewed on his bottom lip as he slowly caught up to the girl. ‘Right or wrong, getting her to eat couldn’t hurt.’

Nick:You know I think breakfast is still being served. I’m pretty hungry after looking for you and I bet running on rooftops made you peckish. Wanna grab a bite really quick? The school’s chicken bisc-

Veronica:Not interested, sorry. I would rather find where I’ll be working.

Nick: ‘Too direct’ Lunch isn’t for awhile. Working on an empty stomach-

Veronica stopped and opened her bag. Nick looked in it and saw several fruits and what was probably protein bars. He’d be impressed if prior knowledge didn’t make this seem like a yellow flag at best.

Veronica zipped back up her bag and continued walking, now a little faster. Her focus was derailed by Nick grabbing her wrist and making her jolt, spooking both of them. He didn’t comment on it and started guiding her down a different hallway.

Nick:You’re walking as if you know where to go. For future reference, wooden doors are regular classes and school stuff. Metal doors are combat related. You’ll work in the student council room; the creative arts hallway is to the right of it. They have plenty of time between classes for you to get whatever you need.

Veronica:Alright, easy enough to remember.

Nick:Fill free to explore the school if you want but don’t interrupt any classes and a lunch monitor will probably get on you if you go in there during different blocks.Summer has lunch at noon.

Veronica:And why would that matter to me?

Nick:So you don’t bump into her on accident, or if you need her for whatever reason. Do not, and I repeat, do not give her a hard time. She already hates school enough.

Veronica:Relax, I’ll play nice. Don’t expect me to sit with her at lunch or anything. That lunch room is probably loud as hell.

Nick:Summer eats on the roof, or the nurses office. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her at a lunch table. Then again, I don’t spend a lot of time there either.

For some reason that was interesting to learn. Veronica was sure those two would have taken the time to eat with each other or be around peers; even if it was for show. Nick seemed like he’d use lunch for studying so she guessed it wasn’t that surprising. ‘Knowing Summer she would go there if you did.’ Veronica thought.

They finally reached the committee room. Nick grabbed the door knob but didn’t get the chance to twist it before it already swung open with Eliza on the other side.

Eliza:I swear if this boiler room doesn’t get its shit togeth-

Nick:....Uh, hey. Busy morning?

Eliza:You would know if you got here early like the president this school believes you to be!

Nick:One, I’m usually here thirty minutes prior so don’t come at me. Two, a hello would be nice. Finally, the boiler room messing up again?

Eliza:One, hello. Two, I’m here an hour early, three, yes it’s taking too long to warm certain things if at all. Finally, where’s the person who knows how to fix it?

Nick:Haven’t seen Valerie and you definitely know I haven’t seen Winchester, that’s your headache.

Eliza:Ugh, I guess I’ll cheat and warm it up myself.

Nick:Don’t blow us up…

Eliza:Shut up, unlike you I’m cautious. Might’ve come in handy against that Paladin.

Nick:Like you would’ve said yes if I asked.

Eliza:Who knows? If you got on your knees I might’ve said yes instantly. Guess we’ll never know; why aren’t you in home room ?

Nick:Last time I checked, you want to be kept in the loop from now on. We have another person helping starting today.

Eliza directed her attention to Veronica and looked her up and down before looking at Nick annoyed.

Nick:Problem?

Eliza:Yeah, I would’ve called a short meeting if I had known earlier. Being kept in the loop doesn’t mean telling me something last second.

Veronica:This was a last second decision. Lucky me because I hate meetings. I’m-

Eliza:I know who you are Veronica Belladonna; I’ve read about you quite a bit actually. Quite a shame your work doesn’t have much to show for it.

Veronica:I could say the same thing about your tournament rankings. Third place gets such a tiny font in the papers.

Eliza:Hmph, kitty has claws alright. Looking forward to seeing what you contribute. Nick looks confident in you so I’m sure it’ll be fruitful. There’s a list of things that need to be done inside the room already. Don’t hesitate to make my life easier.

Eliza shot Nick a cold look as she walked out slowly. Nick couldn’t help but notice the girls slightly sluggish movements.

Veronica:I don’t like her.

Nick:You don’t like most people so what’s new? Eliza is a hard ass but she’s a good person. Definitely reliable, so don’t piss her off. She’s already gunning for me at the tournament and I don’t need anger behind her hits.

Veronica:This list of people I have to be chummy with is getting too long for my taste.

Nick:Vee, I’ve only named three people. Three good people at that. Well...two and a half. Anyways I gotta get to class so you’re on your own for now.

Veronica:Have fun with that. Don’t be surprised if I’m running this entire place by the end of the day.

Nick:That would mean dethroning me, a tall order.

Veronica:Who says we can’t rule together? You know, as king and queen?

A blush spread across his face before he heard Veronica chuckle, only making him redder. Nick turned away in embarrassment and headed to class. It never took much to get him flustered. Veronica felt a little bad; it was something his classmates probably didn’t know.

‘Try all you want Nick,I won’t let you keep your cool.’ Veronica thought, still chuckling to herself. She would’ve continued to do so if the bell didn’t snap her out of it and hurt her ears. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.

Vee went ahead inside the student council room. It was surprisingly spacious and barren. Mostly tables lined around it and a giant blackboard filled with words. Papers were spread around the desks. ‘Wow, disorganized much?’ She took a deep whiff of all the different scents in the room, recognizing a few.

Her eyes scanned the desks. ‘Nick, Valerie, Eliza, even Summer, and several more.’ One paper caught her nose in particular. ‘It wouldn’t be unusual for all the members to have held the list. So...this one?’ She picked up a thin stack that was stapled together. Bingo, the nose always knows.

Venue, light arrangement, stage size, schedule events, all of it was laid out in detail; even down to the estimated budget. One page was a map of the layout which really helped? But something was off. All of this might’ve been planned out it seemed...conceptual. Scatterbrained even. Like all the thoughts were together but going in different directions at the same time.

‘The room isn’t the only thing disorganized it looks like. This list is like a buffet when it should be a potluck. Divide the work, make sure there’s no repeats or clashing themes. If the fights are the main course…’ Veronica took a seat and grabbed a pencil along with fresh paper. ‘Then let’s make sure to give the people plenty of complimenting sides and palate cleanser.’

xxxx

“That's all you can do! Talk about slow!” Valerie shouted with gusto, her hands juggling her tomahawks in the middle of the arena ring.

“Shut up!” Cried her sword wielding opponent. They charged forward with their sword at the ready.

Valerie made no attempt to stop her juggling. Her eyes pierced right into her foe’s as they prepared for a thrust. Valerie shook her head in disappointment. “Sloppy”

The words reached the student and a dark blue glow washed over them. Suddenly their muscles felt heavy, air felt stingy, and their balance was off. The steel sword tipped too far forward and made them stumble, their body stopping at the perfect distance to receive a powerful roundhouse kick to the face that sent them flying out of the ring.

A buzzer rang right after and Valerie finally let her weapons hit the ground as she walked to the edge to see Harriet helping the dazed student.

Valerie:Their jaw okay?

Harriet:If you have to ask then that means you knew you were being too rough. You get a B- Valerie. Please remember restraint. Your semblance and strength can really hurt someone.

Valerie:Sorry…

Harriet:Don’t be sorry, be careful.

That was a line Valerie was familiar with. She watched Harriet help the student to their feet and guided them to the changing room before turning to the rest of the class.

Harriet:Well then, I say that’s enough for practical fights. Unless we have any volunteers, Summer?

Summer: Y-Yes!? I mean no! No, I’m fine. Training is all...covered and stuff.

Harriet:Fine then. Okay everyone knows the drill. Five laps around the track and then you are free from my charming voice. *claps hands* hop to it!

A collective groan came from the class before they started walking to the door. Summer waited for others to be ahead of her like usual and waited for Valerie to catch up.

Valerie:Enjoy the show?

Summer:Eh, felt like a rerun of most of your matches.

Valerie:What can I say? Being this good means I’m always a safe bet princess.

Summer:You won’t be if you call me that again.

Valerie:Ooo feisty today.

Harriet:You’re one to talk. *folds arms* Valerie, thirteen laps for you.

Valerie:What!? But I hate cardio!

Harriet:Good, I’m sure whatever aggression you have will burnout; Summer you have seven. A warning for all your absences.

Summer:Fair, but literally the day after? We’re still sore.

Harriet:Physically or mentally? Just kidding, I know it’s both. Now go before I add more laps.

Summer and Valerie:Yes ma’am…*runs off*

Harriet:Teenagers…

Valerie:Man this sucks! So I hit a little harder than I meant to, so what?

Summer:You’re gonna run out of breath before you start your laps.

Valerie:Maybe then I won’t overlap you.

Summer:Please, you’d need time dilation to do that with your speed. I’ll call you if I need to move some furniture, you lumberjack.

Valerie:Ouch, feisty. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?

Summer:No, but obviously you did. Seeing you in my bus seat this morning was pretty unexpected.

Valerie:Too sore to swallow. I figured-

Summer:That you wanted distance from Nick?

A pit in Valerie’s stomach dropped like a weight. She looked towards Summer to see neutral eyes examine her in great detail. She wondered what exactly it was that Summer was looking at. Color, sweat, hidden guilt, or fear?

Summer:Did you tell him about the bus? Actually, not fair, I don’t wanna know that. What I should be asking is...no, not that either. Sorry, I probably sound like I’m spouting craziness. What I’m getting at is I’m upset too, about my performance during the exam.

Valerie:You tr-

Summer:I swear if you say I tried my best then I’ll scream.

Valerie:....Sorry. You’re wrong though, about me being upset. Frankly I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling. Anxious, embarrassed maybe? I just know I don’t really want to deal with Nick right now. Nothing personal, honestly.

Summer:No offense but it’s entirely personal. I’m not gonna blame you for wanting alone time. Nick and his overwhelming nature is...overwhelming. Always butting in, worrying about everyone but himself and-

Valerie:Being absolutely sweet? It’s all out of kindness; which I don’t necessarily know if it makes it better. I think it does anyways.

Her eyes seemed to drift off thinking about it. He really was always there for anything. Good or bad, Valerie would see the idiot next to her. It was genuinely comforting, and scary. Scary for reasons that for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out.

She was thankful when Summer touched her arm and dispelled the mix of conflicting emotions. Val shook her head and cleared her throat.

Valerie:Enough about Nick! Let’s talk about something more progressive, like how to delete a video the entire school has seen.

Summer:No amount of money or power will erase it. Eliza really screwed us on this one.

Valerie:Wait, what!?

Summer:She’s the one who recorded the quality video. Not out of malice or anything but-

Valerie:I’m gonna fight her…

Summer:Ignoring me? That’s cool too.

Valerie:Oh I heard you, still pissed!

Summer:What happened to not being pissed?

Valerie:Okay, so I’m a little pissed. Ugh! Of all people. I hope she makes it far in the tournament. I don’t think I can take any more nosy people.

Summer:(Should I mention Veronica?)

Valerie:*cracking knuckles* I’m fired up now!

Summer:(Nope) Cool, start running then. Think of it as a head start.

Valerie:Fine, but if I finish my laps before you then I think that’s worth some sort of prize. Let’s say...a movie, just the two of us?

Summer:Hmmm, no deal. I sort of have this thing where I don’t go on dates with my brother’s crushes.

Valerie:We don’t have to call it a date. It would be two friends hanging out like buds.

Summer:.....

Valerie:Yeah, I didn’t believe myself either. Come on, what’s wrong with one simple date?

Summer:Nothing, if it were simple. One of these days you’ll figure it out.

Valerie:Figure what out?

Summer:Finish your laps first and I might tell you, if you beat me that is.

Valerie:You’re on!

Summer makes no effort to start running as Valerie takes off with renewed determination. No doubt it will carry her for at least three laps. Win or lose, Summer planned to keep her mouth shut. There were certain things that should be learned in time, instead of told outright. She had faith in Valerie.

Either way it would take time, almost like a cheesy romance novel. Slow burns never interested Summer. There was always a person who crossed a line. Good thing Nick and Valerie were way too smart to do anything that would endanger their friendship, right?

xxxx

Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace today. At least it was for Veronica anyways. There was a small stack of paper near her now. Each one filled with edits that reorganized all the organized chaos from the council. ‘I hate to admit it, but this Eliza check really puts in work. They all do in some way; Valerie might look dense and lazy but I shouldn’t be surprised that she can handle work. Can’t say much for her creativity though. Still, Nick seems to stand above it all. Just like him to try without showing it. Tiny notes that build upon the others.’

Veronica grabbed the next sheet of paper and kept her pace. This was far easier than designing clothes. It was almost therapeutic in a way. The only thing that was distracting her from her growing agitation. Snacks, all gone. Hunger? So intense that it hurt everywhere. Bones, eyes, nerves, all of it. She wasn’t used to this pain, and she doubted she ever would be.

Calmly she felt her stomach grumble against her nails; which threatened to sharpen. It wouldn’t surprise her if her eyes looked more cat like right now. A wiser Veronica would’ve binged at a buffet before visiting Atlas. She could usually go longer without caving; maybe it was the boat ride? Veronica knew for a fact any instinctual push could potentially set her off. Too late for regrets. No way would she let people see her go feral. Not when they were already talking…

“Did you see that girl with Nick today? Haven’t seen her before.” Said someone in the hall. “You think that girl is rich or something? A girl said in a classroom. “Ha! How rich could a faunus get!?”

The chatter kept coming from every direction.

“That girl is pretty smoking.”

“Jungle fever much?”

“You know what they say about faunus girls.”

“Probably a charity project.”

“Never seen ears and a tail at once.”

“I think she’s ugly honestly”

“Pretty, for a faunus.”

“I think she’s a halfbreed.”

“Freak….”

Her pencil snapped. She basically shattered it to gain some sort of control, ignoring the splinters yet accepting the pain in full force as she kept her fist clenched tight. Veronica wished folding her ears down could be enough, that if she covered them tight she could finally get some quiet; that would be wishful thinking. Tactics like those never worked.

‘Different place, same people. So do what you were told Veronica.’ She told herself. A deep breath in, then out. Letting her eyes close and focus on the only thing that mattered. Herself. Her thoughts and opinions; long flowing hair, sun tanned skin, ears, tail, blood…

All little things that made her up she thought were just fine; not perfect, but not flawed either. They were simply her and that was glorious. As long as she believed that, as long as the people who mattered believed it, then who gives a fuck about what’s said outside?

“Hey princess, come to grace us with your presence?” Veronica heard, from what could possibly be the fakest happy voice in existence. accompanied by the frailest one she’s heard all her life.

xxxx

Summer:Ple-please le-leave-ah!

An arm brushes pass her head and slams into a locker directly behind her. Summer clenches her belongings close to her chest and stares up into the taller girl's brown eyes. Dark brown hair and brown skin really made her stand our. No doubt a cheerleader or head of a club. Combat school or not, beauty was the law of the land to an extent.

A small crowd started forming around them in curiosity because of the noise.

Jordan:What, Princess? Am I not worth your time? I just wanna catch up.

Summer:You’re...causing a scene.

Jordan:That a problem? Don’t you like all that attention and limelight; the personal benefits that somehow let you float above it all?

The girl put her fingers through Summer’s hair. Her eyes drilling into the girl with obvious hostile intent.

Jordan:You know, I’m getting really sick and tired of being overshadowed by someone who never lifts a finger. I miss a day and there’s hell to pay. You miss weeks before and yet your grades stay the same. What, got that fine brother of yours bending over backwards?

Summer:What? No I-

Jordan:I was really hoping you’d get what was coming to you yesterday but of course not. I will say it is hilarious letting people see how frail and useless you are. Maybe if you spent more time eating a sandwich instead of trying to do something with that useless voice of yours…

That insult hit a special spot.

Jordan:Then maybe you wouldn’t be such a lightweight. At least you finally know how to dress yourself. A blow to the head must’ve knocked some sense into you. Doesn’t change the fact you still have all those hideous scars. I bet your fans would love to see-

It was sudden, almost instantaneous. The girl had gone from trash talking one minute, then to holding her wrist right after a loud smack from another hand had invaded Summer and Jordan’s delightful conversation. Summer hadn’t even realized Veronica was watching, let alone standing next to her currently.

Murmurs started to grow louder as the students stared at this unfamiliar faunus that stood confidently, hands on her hips and a look that could kill. Veronica paid no attention to them or Summer for that matter. Instead she had her attention on the bully. A thin red whelp on the girl’s wrist made Veronica silently say “shit” to herself. Her nails must’ve grazed the skin; a genuine mistake.

She was already questioning why she showed up here in the first place. A fight was the last thing she needed or attention. So why intervene? Why prevent Summer from turning on the water works? Easy answer, basic people pissed her off

Veronica:Ever heard of personal space? I thought all Atlesians knew basic etiquette but apparently not.

Jordan:Umm who the hell are you supposed to be?

Veronica:It’s not polite to ask others their name without introducing yourself either, but I guess anyone would want to know the name of a person that threatens them. Then again, a school like this would be diligent in political topics.

Summer:You think the majority of kids here pay attention to the news or the bad part of history?

Veronica:I guess this is what passes for elite around here. How disappointing.

Jordan:Listen, apparently you don’t know things work around here new girl but I’m-

Veronica:Completely irrelevant to me, an afterthought when this is all over. I don’t know how popular you might be or who you might know. Keeping shooting your mouth off and this headache of mine isn’t going to go away. Find something more productive to do than play bully.

Jordan:Ha, so that’s what this is about!? Didn’t realize that good for nothing princess had any friends besides that idiot sports jockey.

Veronica:Please, I wouldn’t be this child’s friend even if she paid me. Her crying hurts my ears almost as much as your prissy voice.

‘Oooos’ came from the crowd of people. It didn’t matter what school you went to, kids craved this kind of back talk. Summer wasn’t sure how things suddenly got so hostile, but that jab at her irritated her.

Summer:Yeah well why would I ever want a friend like you?

Veronica:Crippling loneliness.

Summer:Oh, so I would have to be desperate? That sounds about right.

Veronica:Go jump in front of another robot arm or something, the big kids are talking. Or I’m talking, this chick is pouting.

Jordan:I will not be talked to like this! Not by some...some…

Veronica:Say it, call me anything that has to do with being a faunus and see how far it gets you.

Jordan:A flea bag like you doesn’t scare me you bitch.

Summer:Hey! D-

Jordan:Excuse you, why are you even talking still, or even here!? Do us all a favor and fucking disappear like the nothing you are. I mean honestly, why the hell are you even alive?

The crowd went absolutely silent, all eyes went on Summer. Her heartbeat felt like it nearly stopped entirely. Feeling small was something she was used to. Jordan hadn’t said anything Summer didn’t think of before and yet right now, in this moment, Summer felt like she had been shot right in the heart.

Why? Why couldn’t she say anything back? What made all these eyes so terrifying? The eyes that no doubt saw her on stage before where they didn’t mean a thing. The eyes that most likely laughed when they saw that stupid video. Summer could feel herself choking up and bit her lip.

‘Something, do something damnit! Anything is better than nothing!’ Her chest felt like fire and Jordan smiled as she knew what would happen next, only making Summer angrier. ‘Do anything but cry! Just-’

Her screaming thoughts were suddenly halted by the sting of Veronica flicking her arm. Her face showed severe annoyance at Summer.

Veronica:So what, you can fight with me all day but do nothing here? Could it be...you think I’m somehow beneath her!? The hell is up with that?

Jordan:The fact that you don’t realize that proves just how delusional-

Summer:Please, you’re way more insufferable Veronica. Jordan might as well be an ant with how basic she is- *covers mouth*

More “oooos” came from people chattering. That might’ve been the first time her classmates heard her say anything so...so rude. Jordan grit her teeth and clenched her first, definitely uncharted territory for Summer.

It might’ve been a good idea to leave, hell, maybe even apologize just to prevent further trouble, but the look Veronica gave her made it clear that wasn’t a choice. Not only wasn’t it smug, it pissed Summer off a little. Like hell she’d back down now!

Summer:I mean just look at her, all looks with no substance.

Veronica:I bet this bitch thinks she’s so smart. At least compared to you.

Summer:Hell no! I can sleep through half a test and still be ahead of her with her with how bad her grades are.

Veronica:Oh so she’s trying to get by on her looks? How pathetic.

Summer:Looks she bought too, or I should say her parents bought.

Jordan:Says who!?

Summer:You think no one would notice last year when you came back from spring break with a new nose? Or were you thinking everyone would focus on the boob job? Puberty doesn’t do all that in two weeks so you either found the gods, a ton of surgeons, or a godlike surgeon.

Jordan:*red* Like you’re one to talk about looks. Upset no amount of money could remove those hideous-

Veronica:So you admit to the surgery?

Jordan:Shut up bimbo!

Veronica:That sounds like hater talk.

Summer:Yeah at least Veronica is a natural beauty. I might wear a smidge of concealer but that’s nothing compared to you. Boring...

Veronica:You hate to see it, basic. Do you even fight? I don’t think I’ve ever read the name Jordan on any scoreboards. If pretty is your only trick then get a new one.

Jordan:Like someone like you is any better! Fighting or otherwise I bet I could-

“Lose.” A voice came from around the corner. Everyone turned their head to see Valerie still in her P.E. uniform and a little sweaty.

Her eyes focused on Veronica and immediately she was happy that running made her too tired to fight. That didn’t curve her attitude however, but it looked like that there was more than one annoying problem in this hallway.

Valerie:You’d lose Jordan. To me, to Summer, and most definitely Veronica Belladonna.

Veronica:Way to ruin my fun. I barely meet people stupid enough to be so racist to my face. It’s usually when they think I can’t hear them.

Multiple faces in the crowd looked a little uncomfortable after that statement.

Summer:Finish your laps finally?

Valerie:Hardy har. So, care to explain why not one but two insufferable bitches are causing a scene.

Veronica: “That bitch” you could at least calm me that instead of comparing me to that loser. Also shouldn’t you be showering, or home? You smell like the entire football team.

Valerie:Shouldn’t you be oceans away!? Why-

Veronica:*points to pin* Apparently the great kingdom of Atlas can’t organize events without spreading themselves too thin. I’m catching your slack. Nick is very grateful about it.

That sure ticked Valerie off. Maybe she wasn’t as tired as she thought. Veronica’s face was looking pretty punchable right now.

Valerie:Well good on you, being his little errand girl must make you feel like a winner huh?

Veronica:Keep talking shit and people won’t have to wait for a tournament to see you knocked on your ass.

Jordan:Umm-

“Shut up!” All three said sternly. Clearly Jordan had become nothing more than an afterthought. The crowd didn’t care who fought. Action was all that mattered.

Valerie wasn’t afraid to step up until her and Veronica were centimeters apart. Veronica showed no fear despite being the shorter girl. Giving into the impulse would be so easy right now. So...gratifying. Like an apex humbling what they saw as a beta. Veronica clenched her fist.

“HEY!” Another voice shouted, cutting through all the hostility of the hallway. The crowd split in half to show Eliza. Everyone could see embers and sparks twinkle around the girl, a clear sign she was ready to break up this altercation.

Eliza:Get.To.Class….or do you want to learn the difference between lightning dust and the real deal?

The crowd didn’t need to be told twice and scattered, even Jordan left. Valerie was given a dirty look that made her step away from Veronica while Summer found the nerve to the wall between Eliza and the other two.

Summer:Sorry! Things got out of hand because of me. I-

Eliza:I highly doubt that. Even if it’s true, our Vice President should learn how to keep the peace. And I expect a guest at our school to not cause any agitation in this already aggressive hornets nest.

Valerie:Pfft, she might as well be a baseball bat.

Veronica:I’ll swing a baseball bat upside your-

Eliza:Do you really want to keep arguing in front of me!? I swear if you three weren’t-ugh! Val, hit the showers. Summer if you aren’t going to lunch then I suggest you go over the numbers we need for the tournament.

Summer:I did that already.

Eliza:Yeah well I just went to our room and our guest has been reworking things so I would like our treasure to double check her work. It’s your money after all.

Summer:Alr-

Veronica:Ahem! aren’t you forgetting something?

Summer:...Right, I’ll get on that Eliza. Right after I get lunch, with milk.

Eliza:Ummm okay? As for you Ms. Belladonna… I’ll overlook this but remember Nick will be held somewhat accountable for everything you do. Good and bad, understand?

Veronica:..Crystal. And can you not call me that?

Eliza:As you wish. Now if you excuse me, I have practice to attend to.

As quickly as she showed up, Eliza left and took Valerie with her. Veronica let out a deep breath before turning to see Summer still standing around and looking right at her. All she could manage to do was give an awkward nod before heading to lunch. Obviously she wanted to say something but for some reason decided against it. A wise decision.

Veronica looked at the cuts in her own hands from clenching her fists to tight, her heart still pounding. Man, she really wanted a burger right now. Anything to sink her teeth in.

Part 15

[returnn-of-the-mac]

Sole proposing to the companions with their thoughts and reactions??? If you haven’t already of course, Love your writings! Keep up the great work dude!

Thank you!! This one was super sweet! I did the romanced companions + Nick & Deacon at the end! Hope you like it!😊

FO4 Companions React: Sole Proposing Marriage

After taking down the Institute a week prior, the people of the Commonwealth experienced a period of peace for the first time in seemingly forever.

On this warm evening in particular, Sole and their lover were taking a relaxing stroll along the beaches of Salem.

Sole had been meaning to propose to their companion for a while now, but there had never been a good time for it. Now was a seemingly perfect opportunity.

Fiddling with the wedding ring in their pocket, Sole took a deep breath and got down on one knee.

...

Preston:

Preston held his breath as he watched Sole get down on one knee. When they offered him the ring, he smiled widely.

“Y-yes!” Preston immediately pulled Sole into a tight hug, resting his head on their shoulder.

“Babe,” he whispered, “I...I can’t even express in words how truly grateful I am to have you in my life— and nonetheless ask me to marry you. This...this is such an honor.”

Sole smiled as Preston pecked their cheek before continuing.

“You mean so much to me, and you’re honestly the reason I’m still here today. You...you saved me, [name]. I couldn’t imagine my life without you, and I can’t wait to start our life together.”

The pair stood in a still embrace for a few moments before Preston chuckled. Sole pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Preston apologized, “I’m just picturing Sturges as the Best Man. I love the guy but he’s such a goof.”

The pair laughed at the thought, and they began their trek back to Sanctuary, hand-in-hand, to plan their big day.

MacCready:

“Are you—“ MacCready babbled, “You’re not...”

Sole presented the ring to MacCready and asked him to marry them.

MacCready hesitated for a moment.

“I...I don’t know. I’m still in love with Lucy,” MacCready stuttered.

An understanding Sole nodded solemnly, slipping the ring back in their pocket.

MacCready bit his lip, “B-but wait.”

A heartbroken Sole looked up, trying to fight back tears.

“I think Lucy would want me to move on and be happy. I can’t put my life on hold because of...what happened,” MacCready swallowed, “And I think you—more than anyone— understands what I went through. It...it would be stupid of me to pass up this opportunity. Especially since I do care about you...so much.”

Sole mustered a small smiled and their companion held out his hand. Sole accepted it, and MacCready pulled them into a tight hug, giving them gentle pecks on the cheek.

“So before you go crying,” MacCready teased, ruffling Sole’s hair, “Yes. I would love to marry you.”

Sole excitedly removed the ring from their pocket and MacCready held out his hand, allowing Sole to slip the ring onto his finger. He pulled them into another hug.

“I can’t wait to start my life with you, beautiful.”

Curie:

“What are you doing, my love?” Curie asked, concerned, “Are you hurt?”

Sole pulled out the ring and presented it to their companion.

“Oh my, that’s a beautiful ring,” Curie mused, “Keep it safe.”

Sole took Curie's hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger. The synth blushed wildly.

“It’s...it’s for me?”

It was then that Sole popped the question.

“Oui...” Curie managed to breathe, promptly collapsing into Sole’s arms, a stream of happy tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around Sole and cried into [his/her] chest. “I love you so much.”

After a few minutes, Curie composed herself. She looked up at Sole with sparkling eyes and tiny smile.

“I love you with all my heart, [name],” Curie whispered, “You alone made me realize what this love feeling is. I am so happy that you want to spend the rest of your life with me, because I want the same, mon amie.”

Gage:

“What’re ya doin, boo?” Gage asked. “You straight?”

Sole pulled out the ring and held it out to an oblivious Gage.

“Shit, nice find! We could probably pawn that sucker for 1500 caps at least!”

Sole ignored their companion— after all, Gage was just being...Gage— and asked the question.

“Marry...you?” Gage asked, frazzled. “I...I...really?”

Sole nodded.

“But why?”

As Sole explained their reasoning, a goofy grin spread across the raider’s face.

“Ah..shut up! Stop goin soft on me!” He laughed, as he picked up Sole and spun them around. “But I mean if ya really wanna...then yeah. Yeah. I’m down for gettin married. Just as long as I don’t have to wear that stupid white dress.”

Piper:

Piper turned bright red and took a sharp breath in as she watched Sole get down on one knee.

“Blue...Blue...are you...!?”

Sole pulled the ring out of their pocket, and Piper squealed. She eagerly held out her hand and Sole slipped the ring on her finger.

“I can’t believe this is really happening!” She gushed, “Oh my god! I have to tell Nat!”

Sole laughed as Piper jumped into [his/her] arms.

“Are we going to have a wedding?! Mama Murphy has a beautiful flower garden in Sanctuary that she’s been working on while getting clean...oh! And Ellie Perkins can make a mean Tarberry cake...oh! And Nat can be the flower girl!” the reporter mused, “And I think I still have that cream laundered dress you gave me...somewhere! I’m so excited!”

Danse:

“Careful, you need to get a good grip on this sand, it’s easy to fall over,” Danse remarked, roughly pulling Sole onto their feet from their kneeling position, “There you go, soldier.”

Sole, slightly taken aback, got back down on one knee and Danse dryly chuckled.

“Funny. You can help yourself up this time.” He said as he began to walk away.

Sole called for the Paladin.

“Yes?”

They then held out the ring.

Danse raised an eyebrow. “What’ve you got there? Some kind of Pre-War artifact?”

Sole sighed, before asking the Paladin directly if he would like to marry them.

Danse blushed madly.

“W-Why me? There are so many other people out there. Better people...human beings. I’m just a machine. I—“

Before he could say anything else, Sole interrupted him with a passionate kiss. When Sole pulled away, they gently smiled and looked at Danse, awaiting his answer.

The Paladin smiled warmly.

“Yes; of course,” he answered as he pulled Sole into his arms, initiating another kiss.

He then rested his chin on Sole’s head.

“You saved my life, [name]. And for that, I am truly grateful,” he stated, “I love you so much; I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. I’m so happy you feel the same way.”

Cait:

“Shut the fuck up,” Cait angerly barked, as Sole presented the ring, “Yer fuckin with me!”

Sole shook their head and asked Cait again. The redhead nervously chuckled as involuntary tears rolled down her face.

“Fuck you,” Cait cursed, as she playfully shoved Sole into the sand, “I hate you.”

Cait threw herself down next to Sole and planted a kiss on their dusty lips. She couldn’t wait to start a life with Sole.

Hancock:

Hancock smiled widely, as he knew what was happening. “No fucking way.”

Sole held out the ring, and Hancock chuckled joyously. “Is this actually happening, doll? Or am I trippin?”

Sole popped the question, and Hancock immediately embraced them. “Hell yeah,” He laughed, “Hell fucking yeah.”

The ghoul continued, “I’m not usually one who’s into commitment. Too much responsibility; too much of a hold-down, yanno?”

Sole froze.

“But,” he continued, holding Sole closer, “When I met you, and we really began to hit it off...well, you were the first person I’d ever even considered sticking around with for the long run.”

He bent back to kiss Sole’s forehead.

“And then when we started hittin it off romantically, the idea of marriage crossed my mind for the first time ever. That’s how I knew you were the one.”

Sole smiled.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I ever would have proposed if you hadn’t,” Hancock admitted, “But I knew in the back of my mind that if the opportunity were to ever arise, I’d jump the fuck on it.”

Deacon:

“Hey pal! Walk much?” Deacon laughed.

He then noticed Sole reaching into their pocket and pulling out a wedding ring. He turned bright red as Sole popped the question.

“Are you...is this...am I being punk’d right now?” Deacon asked, looking around frantically, “Where you at, Tom?”

Sole chuckled and asked again. This time, Deacon knew Sole meant it.

His softened for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face.

“Only if you agree to the Terms and Conditions of Being Married to The Deacs.”

Sole rolled their eyes and smirked.

“I still get to be a pain in the ass,” Deacon declared, “Capeesh?”

Sole nodded and Deacon pulled them into a bear hug.

“Goddamn this is so exciting!” Deacon exclaimed, “MacCready’s gonna be best man, right?”

Nick:

Nick’s jaw dropped as his companion got down on one knee. Sole promptly offered the ring and asked the detective to marry them.

Nick stood frozen in place, unable to react for a few seconds. When he finally came around, he chuckled.

“I think you managed to blow a gasket, darling,” he joked, holding his hand out and accepting the ring, “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

Sole beamed and the detective helped them to their feet, pulling them into a loving embrace.

“I’ve had such a blast traveling across the Commonwealth with you, my dear,” Nick stated, planting a gentle kiss on Sole’s forehead, “It would be an absolute honor to spend the rest of my days with you by my side.”

[kyeshirosaki]

Cursed Episode 1

I watched the whole season despite being skeptical after the first episode because I wanted to like it and enjoy it and I very much did enjoy parts of it in spite of some of the show's bad aspects. Cursed has a lot of flaws, but I still plan on watching a second season if it’s renewed. I’ve never seen BBC’s Merlin, nor do I have much of a background in Arthurian legend like most folks that have been talking about the show. Anyway here are some of my thoughts about the show, good and bad, including spoilers for the whole season.

The first two episodes are rough, but it does get better. Likewise these posts will get more positive as it goes, I promise.

We’re introduced to Nimue, a teenager that suffers from bullying from her entire community except from her mother. They call her a witch and we see her cause vines to attack her tormentor, but later we see the village elders perform a ceremony that very much looks like magic and Nimue is chosen to be summoner. It’s understood that summoner is a respected spiritual position, but we aren’t told exactly what being summoner entails. We know that no one likes her or wants her to have the position and neither does she. In the show’s defense, defining the position is rendered moot since her village is destroyed before she has a chance to fulfill any aspects of it.

Her mom doesn’t understand why Nimue doesn’t want to be summoner and so she runs away with her concerned best friend coming along for the journey. I really hope we get some flashbacks of Pym defending Nimue or just a snippet of her choosing to stay Nimue’s friend after the village turns against her. Children can be fickle and I think it’s really something that Pym’s loyalty hasn’t shaken over the years.

Now we meet Father Carden, who acts as the season’s Big Bad. The scene was made to make you question what exactly the context is for this old religious man’s speech to this young boy. My first assumption was that Carden was trying to recruit the boy for his holy crusade against demons and trying to explain why the child shouldn’t be scared to murder “evil” people. I have mixed feelings about this scene. The reveal that the child was fey and therefore a demon needing to be expelled did have an impact, as did panning out to the child’s village being razed, but later scenes make Carden’s speech seem out of character. He doesn’t seem to have any issues killing or ordering children to be killed and doesn’t feel like the type to explain himself to a child or need to steel his own nerves.

The scene DOES make sense if the scene is actually a flashback and the little boy we’re seeing is actually the Weeping Monk receiving the beginning of his brainwashing. These are the only characters that we see have reactions to touching leaves, but there’s no specific scene identifying the two characters as the same and it’s implied that the little boy was taken away to be burned at the stake. I’m not entirely sure how Carden would have discovered his ability to locate other fey based on that scene alone, but it’s odd that no one else has been shown to have skin that reacts to foliage.

I love the design of the Moon Wing fey, but their design does leave a bit to be desired from other kinds of fey. There’s no other kind that has quite that much detail to their design save maybe Yeva, who’s supposedly also a Moon Wing despite being much more bird like. First Moon Wing we meet looks more like a traditional fairy - very petite, winged, blue skin, and with gemstone looking features around their face. Yeva doesn’t look similar in the slightest despite also having a great design.

And now we get to meet Merlin, the most well known Arthurian character alongside Arthur and Lancelot. On one hand, I’m a fan of meeting him as a jaded man, but I don’t quite understand why he’s got a shaved head as if he’s an infantry soldier. That style is known as the Ceasar and became popular among soldiers and wrestlers because it’s a lot harder to grab someone by the hair if it’s that short. I don’t hate it, I’m just curious about the decision.

I love the relationship between Merlin and Uther Pendragon. They aren’t confirmed in any way, but the relationship comes off as if Merlin is living in luxury off of his alimony settlement with his former lover, Uther, who decided to keep Merlin close if he was going to be footing the bill either way. We’re told that this country based in the British Isles is in a drought. By the end of the episode they receive rain that turns to blood and you’d assume Uther would be up Merlin’s butt about bringing actual rain. Uther tries but Merlin decides he has better things to do and there’s... no ramifications for blowing off the king of the country who will be facing a food shortage that could lead to a famine if he can’t get any rain. Granted, there are more immediate things that soon demands the king’s attention.

Nimue’s next actions don’t make sense to me without acknowledging her as a death seeker. Her runaway plan fails and she meets a man performing for coin and decides to go to a tavern with him after saying it’s a bad idea. I’m assuming they get drunk, despite none of them seeming particularly intoxicated in the next scene because Nimue, despite knowing that being discovered as a fey would put her life in danger, decides to use magic to cheat against a guy using loaded dice. If I remember correctly, this guy with guy with dice was getting ready to leave them alone when Nimue decided to challenge him AFTER finding out his game was rigged. She uses magic which makes vein-like vines appear very visibly on the sides of her head that distinguishes her as a fey in a bar crowded with humans that are hostile to fey. That kind of idiocy goes beyond being a drunk teenager, or at the very least you’d expect Pym, who knows better, to rush Nimue away immediately instead of letting her do it a second time - especially since they established that it’s too late in the day for them to get home before dark. You’d expect that their next move would be to find a place to sleep for a night in town, but Nimue’s recklessness ruins that option.

They’re saved by Arthur and properly introduce our protagonist to the treat of the Red Paladins, who are currently trying to hunt down Nimue to kill her and presumable anyone trying to help her. They decide to not only build a fire and make camp, but get drunker while Nimue decides to swing Arthur’s sword around and the two engage in flirty fight banter. A lit campfire is already a dead giveaway to your position, but if you don’t see that you can still listen out for them making all the noise that comes with sword fighting and they’d totally be in a good position to fight off any attackers with them getting drunk enough for Pym to wake up with a hangover. It’s as if Arthur had the one good braincell between them, but threw it into the fire. Nimue’s headbutt was an enjoyable moment though. Pym is nowhere to be seen during this scene, but the next establishes her asleep next to the campfire they were fighting near despite her not being visible from what I remember.

Legitimately a smart idea for the girls to ditch Arthur before heading back to their city. He’s still a human and it’s better safe than sorry before leading him back to a whole village of people being persecuted. Boy howdy did they need his one brain cell to keep them from walking into their village as it’s being massacred. I do understand that they’re both in shock and the goal may have been to highlight all the carnage around them, but after having her best friend ripped away and being caught and carried off twice and only escaping by dumb luck, it would have been nice to see her run away or successfully defend herself. I thought this might be the moment where we see her being the warrior  her mother claims her to be, but it isn’t. Nimue is resilient, but nothing about her seems like the warrior the trailers made her out to be.

Jump ahead to the wolf massacre that the Wolfblood Witch gets her namesake from. I can’t lie, it was pretty cheesy to watch and the wolves didn’t feel real; however it’s already expensive being a fantasy series and CGI is very costly. I get that if you’re going to do it you should do it right, but I forgive them for this scene and do my best to turn a blind eye to some of the cringey CGI used in some of the fight scenes. It’s bad, but not something I’d stop watching a show over.

[chancellormatt]

Voltron Rewrite Episode Fifteen - The Imprisoned Princess

The Dark Reality - Ten Thousand Years Ago

King Alfor looks down at a burning Altea. Tears stream down his face, as he is helpless to do anything else. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming, Alfor” A voice says from behind. “Your people burn because of your actions.”

“You...monster!” Alfor whirls around to face Zarkon.

The pair of them stand on a suspended walkway hanging on the remains of the altean royal palace. The fires cast the pair in angry light.

“I wonder,” Zarkon says, “did you weep this much for Diabazaal? Did you even hesitate? Or were you eager to finally have an excuse to remove such a thorn from your side?”

“I did weep for your world, Zarkon! But do not compare my efforts to save the universe with this...this butchery!”

“There it is again. King Alfor, up on his moral high ground. Well in case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t much ground to stand on anymore.” Zarkon nods down to the burning fields that used to be Altea.

“You talk to me like a bitter enemy Zarkon...but you were my friend. A brother to me…” His eyes look very tired then. “But this...this isn’t the Zarkon I fought beside. Not the hero I knew. You are a warped shadow wearing the skin of my friend. How could someone like that do this to my people!? To my...my wife...oh stars, my wife.” He pauses, staring downward for what seems an eternity. When he looks up, his eyes are hard.

“One way or another…” Alfor summons his bayard, forming it into a longsword. “...this ends now.”

“At last, we agree on something.” Zarkon materializes his own wickedly curved bayard sword.

The two paladins charge down the walkway at each other. 

Alfor’s first strike is a thrust for Zarkon’s midsection. The large galra turns the strike away and kicks Alfor in the chest. Alfor goes flying backwards across the walkway, only barely managing to land on two feet. 

But Zarkon is back upon him almost immediately, unleashing a flurry of strikes. Alfor blocks the series of blows, but the power of each one pushes Alfor back further. Alfor ducks beneath the final swing and shoves his own sword upward, grazing Zarkon on the shoulder. 

Snarling, Zarkon knocks aside Alfor’s followup and grabs the King by the head. He slams Alfor’s face into the walkway’s railing, dazing him. As Alfor stumbles back, Zarkon swings again with his sword. The blow is only just blocked but the force throws Alfor down onto his back. 

Zarkon jumps up, sword plunging downward to pin Alfor to the walkway. Before he can be skewered Alfor throws up a hand, firing off a blast of blue lighting that blasts Zarkon backwards. 

Zarkon lands on his back, much like Alfor. 

Both leap to their feet, Zarkon moving in for the sword swing, while Alfor unleashes another blast of lightning.

The lighting strikes Zarkon, wrapping it's glowing tendrils along his body. Zarkon cries out in pain and anger but he does not fall. In spite of the alchemical lightning, he takes a step forward.

“Th-that’s your problem...Alfor…”

Another step forward.

“...you have never been…”

Another step.”

“...as strong…”

Another.

“...as ME!”

Zarkon swings his blade.

Alfor stumbles back, gripping his gut where the blade struck home. He sways, trying to remain standing. Then, he drops his sword and falls to his knees. He looks up at his former friend, face awash with pain and sorrow.

“You may kill me...but you will never have what you really want. You will never have Voltron!”

Zarkon chuckles, then laughs. He steps back and continues his mad cackle. Alfor looks on with confusion. Eventually, Zarkon regains his composure, looks back down at Alfor and smiles.

“Oh, Alfor...my men sent word just before I found you here. Your ploy to send the Lions away didn’t work.”

Alfor’s eyes widen.

“Yes, my men captured them, along with the Castle of Lion while they were trying to flee. Still, I must commend you. It very nearly worked. My men said it was fifty-fifty odds. Seems the coin didn’t fall in your favor, old friend.”

“Allura…” Alfor says with horror. “Wh...what about my daughter?”

Zarkon stares down at Alfor, as if hesitating.

“...she fought to the very end. Too much like her father, it seems.”

The light in Alfor’s eyes dies. He slumps over, drained completely. For a moment, both are silent. The crackling of the fires and occasional distant blasts are the only sounds audible. 

“...just end it already. I want to join my wife and daughter.” Alfor finally says 

Zarkon raises his blade, but stops before the swing. Alfor waits. The blade never falls. 

“...no.” Zarkon says, lowering his blade. “I’ve changed my mind.” 

Alfor looks up, mystified.

“I wanted to kill you at first. But that wouldn’t be the real punishment, would it? Being returned to what you only just lost, if one believes in that sort of thing. No...the far greater penance would be to live, knowing that you were the reason for the death of all that you loved. Only being able to watch as I use Voltron to conquer the rest of the universe.”

If Alfor’s eyes were horror before, they are utter dread now. “I...I can still stop you! Somehow I…” His voice trails off, lacking the energy to finish the sentence.

“Stop me?” Zarkon leans down and grins. “Alfor, you’re going to help me do it.”

“Never.” Alfor says, in a voice just above a whisper.

Zarkon chuckles. “Honerva may have lost her memory for now, but I’m sure in time we can put things right. With her help, we’ll twist you so far you’ll barely be able to remember your own name. But don’t worry, I’ll leave enough of you for the pain to remain.”

Alfor is speechless.

“Look on the bright side. You get to continue doing your duty as a Paladin of Voltron. And I’m going to make sure you’ll never be able to stop…”

Prime Reality - Now

Raimon carries an unconscious Allura down the landing pad of a shuttle. He steps out onto the soft soil of the altean colony. Zarkon and Lotor stand in the middle of a town square, with a small crowd of onlooking alteans on the periphery. At the precise center of the square is a metal post jammed into the ground, with a chain dangling from it's top. 

Raimon carries Allura over to the post, ignoring the stares of the onlookers. He lays her down so she sits with her back against the metal. Then, he reaches up and pulls down the chair to begin wrap around her wrists. 

As he does, Allura begins to blink and moan groggily. ‘

“Where…?”

Suddenly her eyes shoot open and tries to leap to her feet. Raimon shoves her back down, then locks the chain in place. 

“You!” She says in an accusatory tone. “You can’t...couldn’t…” Her voice loses its strength and trails off as she stares up at Raimon. Impassively, he pulls the chain taut, forcing Allura to her feet, with her arms stretched above her head.

“Oh, it's really him, Princess.” Zarkon chuckles. “But deep down, I’m certain you already know that.”

Allura gets a foul expression and averts her gaze. However, her eyes quickly find their way back to Raimon. The man does not meet her gaze, rather he doesn’t seem to look at anything in particular. His eyes are distant, almost dead.

“Well then, Princess. You wanted to see your people? Here they are!” Zarkon sweeps an arm across the alteans. 

Slowly, Allura tears her eyes away from Raimon to get her first good look at the alteans. They come in all ages, but elderly and children are the most common. All look back at her with some mixture of fear and uneasy. 

Allura smiles at them weakly. Many avert their gaze or shift uncomfortably.  

Lotor clears his throat. “Father do you think it entirely wise to do this? What if she ties to incite them to-”

“Is their faith in you so weak?” Zarkon asks immediately, “And if it is, what matters? You know how to maintain loyalty no matter what. I’m sure I’ve managed to teach you that much.”

“Y...yes, father.” Lotor says reluctantly. 

Zarkon smiles down at Allura. “Let her say whatever she wishes. It will not matter in the end. That is my purpose in bringing her here. To show her that our victory is inevitable.”

Allura scrowls, her posture and expression regains some of its original defiance. It is somewhat spoiled by her uncertain gaze occasionally drifting between Raimon and the alteans.

“I have work to be doing. Enjoy the stay, girl. Soon your friends will be joining you.” And with that, Zarkon walked away. Lotor followed shortly afterwards, only pausing briefly to shoot an uneasy glance at Allura.

Finally, Raimon turns to go.

“...I don’t care what reality you’re from.” Allura said suddenly. “My father...King Alfor would always fight to the bitter end to stop men like Zarkon! Especially to protect his people. If you’re my...if you’re Alfor, then I know there must be some part of you still fighting him!”

Raimon stops in his tracks. He stays there unmoving for a long moment. Then he says, “There is no longer any Alfor…only the servant of Zarkon. Only Raimon.”

He leaves. Allura watches him go, wilting. 

Eventually she forces herself to turn her gaze back to the still staring onlookers. She seems to regain a modicum of strength at the sight of them. She closes her eyes and takes a breath. 

When Allura opens her eyes, she has a smile on her face. It is a weak ragged, unconvincing smile. But a smile nonetheless.

“H-hello...my name is Princess Allura. I’m here to rescue you.” 

***

“Dammit!” Keith swears, slamming his fist into a wall. “We fell right into their trap!”

He and the other paladins are back inside the Garrison base. They are all either standing or sitting inside a living area. Sullen expressions are on all their faces, save Keith’s. His is one of unbridled rage.

“I can’t believe what a complete idiot I was!” He punches the wall again.

“Easy, Keith.” Shiro says gently. “This isn’t all on you.”

“The hell it isn't! I was in command, I had final say! This is my mistake! It's my fault they got Allura!”

“And do you think anyone else here would have made a different choice? It was a risk, yes. But at the time, it seemed a worthwhile one. Lance? Hunk? Pidge? Would you have made a different choice in Keith’s position?” 

“Probably not…” Lance admits.

Hunk shakes his head.

“It...seemed to make sense, risks notwithstanding.” Pidge says.

“And how about you, Shiro?” Keith retorts. “Would you have made such a colossal screw up? Would you have put her and everyone else in danger like that?”

“Keith...did you forget?”

Keith tilts his head in confusion.

“I did.” Shiro shrugges. 

Keith blinks, looking more confused.

“Back when I was leading Voltron, Allura and I infiltrated that ship to get information. I barely got out and she ended up captured.”

“...right.” Keith replies, embarrassed.

“So no, you aren’t the only one that can make bad calls. And this also isn’t the first time Allura’s been in a sticky situation. She’ll manage, she’s a paladin too. So with that in mind, what do you think we need to do?”

Keith takes a breath before responding. “...calm down and plan our next move. We need to get Allura back, but at the same time can’t go in half cocked. That’ll just lead to more mistakes.”

Shiro nods with approval. “Alright then, seems like you’ve got a handle on things.”

Keith smiles. “...thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The door opens on the far end of the room. 

“The Princess has been captured!?” Coran says marching in.

“I...yeah.” Keith replies.

Coran takes a breath and look as if about to rant but hesitates, then shakes his head and sighs.

“I suppose...that’s part of the job.” He says finally. “Really doesn’t do my stress levels any favors, though.”

“We’ll get her back, Coran.” Keith swears.

Coran nods slowly, then more quickly. “I know”

“Grand Regent!”

Keith cringes. He turns to see Skriel run inside, followed by the other galra commanders. 

“I only just heard what happened to the future empress! I swear to you that Urok, Erva, Mutava and myself will not rest for an instant until she is rescued! Even if it means laying down our lives! And by the stars if it comes to that, they will know that it was the mighty Skriel who-”

“Enough.” Keith sighes. “No ones going anywhere until we have a handle on the situation. Going in half-cocked isn’t going to help anybody. You guys will have your chance to help, just not yet.”

“...understood.” Skriel says, looking disappointed.

“And stop calling Allura the future empress!” 

. In spite of the situation, the other Paladins stifle snickers.

“Of course.” Skriel winks

“And stop winking!”

“Uh...right.” Skriel straightens. 

“Now...anyone have ideas on what to do first.”

“Well you could start by seeing the message we just received.” A new voice says.

All turn to see Admiral Sanda now at the door. “Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess.”

“Yeah, well...what else is new?” Keith sighs. “Now what’s this message you’re talking about?”

Sanda pulls out a handheld device that projects a large holographic image in front of them. It shows Zarkon. 

“To this reality’s pitiful excuses for Paladins: Hello, it's me. Your proper ruler. I understand some of you are having trouble accepting that. It's understandable. Weak minds often have difficulty comprehending their betters. You will not bow without a fight. To that end…”

The feed changes to show a new subject. Allura chained to a post, in the center of the altean colony. The paladins all gasp.

“As you can see...your friend is waiting for you.” The feed switches back to Zarkon. “I dearly hope you don’t keep me waiting.”

With that the feed goes dead.

Keith's fists clench, then tremble.

“...the colony.” He says finally. “That’s where she is.”

“You and your mother went there, correct?” Sanda inquires. “Do you know a way in?”

“We got in once, but that doesn’t mean much. Lotor wasn’t there at the time, and this was long before Zarkon took over. I have no idea what kind of new defenses he’s added by now.”

“Well then it sounds like you’re back in the same position as before. Only this time the bait is far more enticing, and you can’t afford not to take it.”

Keith says nothing for several moments, apparently thinking. Then, his eyes widen and he straightens. 

“...we do have one person that knows both the colony and Zarkon better than anyone.”

The other paladins look confused then their eyes widen with realization as well.

“I think it's time we talked to Lotor. Our Lotor.”

***

“I know this must be hard to hear...but the man you serve is not who you think!” Allura exclaimes.

The alteans reply with angered boos. 

“We don’t want to hear your lies!” One woman shouts.

“Traitor!” Says another. 

“Please you have you listen to-” Allura tries to get in.

“Keep you mad ramblings to yourself!”

Allura continues to try to reason with the increasingly angry crowd. 

“I’m trying to help you quiznak it!” She eventually shouts.

“Help us by shutting up!” bellows an older man. 

She grits her teeth with frustration, but does not give up.

“Please! He’s using you for his war! He-”

But she is soon drowned out by the angry cries.

“Oh dear Princess, your foolishness would be comical were it not so pathetic.” A loud voice declares, breaking through the clamor.

The crowd opens a wide berth to reveal Prince Lotor standing behind, with Luca at his side. The former has a gloating expression. The later averts her gaze when Allura looks at her. 

“I must say, it was entertaining for the first hour, but it's really gotten quite dull.” Lotor says.

Allura sneers. “I see you finally grew a spine. And here I thought you might be too scared of what I had to say to these people you’ve been manipulating.”

Lotor scoffs. “I was, at worst, concerned for their welfare in the presence of such deceptive ideals. But my people are loyal to their very bones. You cannot break that with a few poorly constructed lies.”

“The only one telling lies here, is you Lotor.” Allura shoots back. “Or would you like to be the one to tell these people that you are an imposter?”

“Quit your slander of Lotor!” One altean hisses. 

Lotor chuckles. “Don’t let her provoke you.” He turns to face the crowd. “That goes for everyone. You only empower this woman by listening to her ramblings. Let her serve as an example, nothing more. Please go back to your duties.”

Reluctantly, the alteans mumble agreements and begin to disperse. 

Allura watches biting her lip with frustration. Lotor smiles with satisfaction before he too turns to go.

“...I wonder if Zarkon reigns you in the same way you just did with them.” 

Lotor freezes. 

Allura shakes her head. “No, on second thought, I’m sure he uses a much firmer hand on you.”

Moving like a blur, Lotor whirls around and strikes Allura across the face. Everyone is stunned. Even Luce blinks with shock. There is fury in Lotor’s eyes.

“You will not speak of things you know nothing about.” he says with barely-suppressed rage. 

Allura spits. “I don’t know why you continue to follow that vile man, father or not. You could always just kill him like our Lotor did.”

“Do not repeat that lie again!” He shouts.

“Why!?” Allura shouts back. “Are you so afraid of him that you can’t bear the thought of trying!? Or are you just terrified of what life would be like for you without him pulling your every string?”

Lotor pulls his hand back to strike again, unbridled fury on his face. Then, he seems to notice the staring crowd of alteans for the first time. Slowly, he lowers his hand and composes himself.

“...it's not worth it.” He spits out, before marching off.

Luca looks curiously between him and Allura. She shoots an uncertain look at Allura before running after Lotor.

The crowd remains for several more moments before they too, one by one, disperse. Finally, once alone, Allura sighs and slumps against the post.

***

High above it all, in a viewing station, Zarkon stares at a screen from which he watched the exchange.

“How...troubling.” He growls to himself.

***

Lotor, pilot of Sincline born of the main reality, sits alone in his cell. His glowing eyes stare at the blank wall opposite him. 

Suddenly, the door pulls open and Keith marches in, with Shiro and the other remaining Paladins. Lotor turns his head, but is otherwise unresponsive.

“I need your help.” Keith says simply.

“Isn’t that funny? Because I don’t need yours.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “We could make things better for you here. Nicer cell, anything you want.”

“Not interested.” Lotor waves a hand. “I’m quite comfortable here.”

“Zarkon has Allura.” Keith tries again.

“How unfortunate.” Lotor replies coldly.

“He’s keeping her captive at the altean colony. Your altean colony. Where he’s also been using them as living weapons.”

“...that too is unfortunate. But do you know what else it is?”

“What?”

“Not my problem.” Lotor turns his gaze back to the wall.

“I thought you said you wanted to help defeat Zarkon.” Keith says through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I don’t care anymore. Or maybe I just like seeing you feel what it's like to have the rug pulled out from under you.”

“Hard way it is, then.” Keith nods.

Lotor is looking up with confusion when Keith grabs him by the collar and shoves him against the back wall. Lance and Hunk move as if to stop him, but Keith waves them off, and they hesitantly step back. 

“You will remove your hand from me or I will remove it from your arm.” Lotor hisses.

“No, shut up. I’m going to talk and your going to listen!” Keith barks back. 

Lotor is surprised by the outburst, giving Keith all the time he needs.

Zarkon has Allura.  I am going to get her back. And right now you are the best chance of making that happen. I don’t like your Lotor. You’re a liar and a killer. But right now, I don’t really care about that, because frankly, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get the Princess back. If you don’t cooperate, the only difference that makes to me is that while I’m on the way to bring her back, I’ll make sure to stop and drop you into the nearest black hole. So how about you pick up what’s left of your ego, and stop pretending like you don’t want a chance to kill your dad a second time.”

Lotor stares down at the shorter boy for what seems like an eternity. Then, strangely, he smiles. It's a striking sight, with his new darker features.

“Remove your hand and we’ll talk.”

Keith lets him go and steps back. Lotor sweeps his gaze across the Paladins who all stare daggers at him. Lotor lets out a hollow chuckle.

“Seems you lot have more spine than I thought. Alright. I’ll help. If only to remove Zarkon’s vile hands from my precious colony. But I go free. That’s my price.

Keith hesitates. “...not until this is all over.”

The others look surprised at this but do not speak up.

“Fine. But I at least have to get out of this cell. I might have been lying about it's comfort.”

Keith nods curtly towards the door.

Lotor starts to move but Keith catches him on the arm. 

“You make me regret this and I really will drop you down a black hole.”

Lotor sneers in reply. “Threaten me again and see what happens.

Keith glares back but releases him. Lotor strides out of the cell, head held high, as if he owned the place.

“Oh yeah this is a greaaaat idea.” Lance remarks.

Pidge elbows him.

“What?”

Shiro eyes Keith. “You sure about this?”

Keith shakes his head. “Not really, but we’ve made our deal with the devil. Let’s see what he’s bringing on his end.”

***

Keith, the other Paladins, Lotor and their other allies conviene around a table in one of the Garrison’s briefing rooms. Lotor sweeps an unimpressed look across the room’s occupants. His eyes briefly meets Acxa’s but they turn away just as quickly. His gaze soon settles on the faces of the galra warlord commanders.

“Well now, I knew you were in league with the Blade of Marmora, but I did not realize that any real galra military commanders had joined your cause. Skriel I’m most surprised to see you here. Didn’t you want the throne for yourself but couldn’t make it to the Kral Zera?”

Skriel folds his arms and smirks. “Aye! I coulda gotten that throne if it hadn’t been for those pesky arganterian pirates. But that’s in the past now. I’ve the one man in the galaxy I can accept besides myself as leader, and that’s Grand Regent Keith Kogan!”

Lotor’s eyes widen and he turns back to Keith. “Grand Regent? My you’ve gotten far for a half-breed.”

“I don’t have any less galra blood than you.” Keith points out.

“True enough. But mine was royal. Do you really think you can hold onto the throne when your lineage is some earth-man and a turn-coat mother?”

Krollia flinches. Keith looks about to strike Lotor.

“Hey man!” Lance suddenly shouts, surprising both. “How about you shut up before I deck you myself!? Keith’s risking a lot asking you for help, but I’ll be honest, I’ve wanted to punch you since the day we met, so keep talking and why don’t ya see what happens?”

Both stare at Lance, dumbfounded. Keith regains himself first. 

“...thank you Lance, but that’s alright. He was only trying to provoke me after all.”

Lotor smiles again, but with less malice in it this time. “So you are capable of seeing subtly after all. Good. Zarkon will provoke you with far more than that, and with much larger stakes at hand.”

“Right. But word of advice. Don’t talk about my mom.”

“As you wish. Now, I assume Zarkon has contacted you? Perhaps leveled some kind of taunt or ultimatum?” 

Keith nods to Pidge who taps a key on the table and a hologram appears above. Lotor watches intently as a projection of Zarkon’s message plays. 

The message ends, and Lotor closes his eyes.

“...well?” Keith asks.

Lotor opens his eyes. “Bring up everything you have on the colony, and enemy movements around the Quantum Abyss.”

Kolivan steps forward and taps several keys. A holographic projection of the Quantum Abyss appears, with the colony specifically being magnified. Several galra vessels highlighted in red are shown in and around the Abyss.

“This is the best we can get for enemy movements in the area. Intel is limited as Zarkon has taken great efforts to compartmentalize everything. If we had more time we’d be able to get a clearer picture, but…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lotor shakes his head. “I just needed confirmation.”

“Of what?” Keith asks.

Lotor frowns. “That this Zarkon is the same as my real father, that he thinks the same way. What you have here confirms just as much. I’d know those formations anywhere. It really is him. Now, Is all his military might held here?”

“Many of his forces are spread about to other locations, but the bulk of them seem to be here.” Kolivan reports. 

“There is one other location of significance.” Mutava speaks up. 

The blades look confused, which causes a smirk to form on Mutava’s lips.

“So you don’t know everything. How nice to hear.” he plugs a device into the table, and a new projection appears. It is of the teleduv, in space with several larger rings build around its circumference, and one smaller ring within it's center. Construction on the massive rings continue. Dozens of galra ships and silver robeast surround it. 

“The teleduv…” Kolvian muses. “We haven’t been able to get any information on it since the attack on the station. Haggar, or Honerva rather, cleaned house after the incident. How did you get this?”

“I have my sources.” Mutava shrugs. “You may work hard to insert spies in key positions, but I prefer to pay off the average engineer or workman. So much easier. Anyway, it seems that they conversely moved the teleduv after our little attack and have concentrated many of their robeasts there for protection. Unfortunately, I cannot speak to their intentions with the device.”

“I might have something later.” Pidge speaks up. “Those files we stole from the station should be done decrypting soon.”

“This is...concerning.” Lotor notes. “It always is when you don’t know what Zarkon is up to. But ultimately, this is irrelevant. For now our goal is retrieving All...The Princess. Anything else is a distraction.”

“Agreed.” Keith nods. “So, how do get past Zarkon and his forces?”

“Not easily. My father could be a fool at times, but he knew battle strategy better than almost anyone.” Lotor allows the barest hint of a smirk, which ends up looking more like a sneer. “But there’s no one in the universe who knows my father’s tactics better than me.”

“Can you outsmart him?”  

“Possibly. The Princess makes this...difficult. As long as he has her he will be able to manipulate you and force your hand into meeting him in battle. That is where he is strongest.”

“What about his weaknesses?”

“His arrogance. And his pride. He could have threatened to kill the Princess. It might not have worked, but he’d have lost nothing. But wants to beat you in battle. Show that he’s the strongest person in the universe. He needs to show the universe that, lest he shows even the slightest bit of weakness. But at the same time, it won't be so simple to get him to appear in person. Pride works both ways. He won't fight himself if he thinks the battle is above him. That’s what minions are for.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Ideally you would infiltrate the colony and snatch the Princess from under his nose. But that’s a great deal easier said than done. And he’ll be expecting you to do that.”

“We got in easy enough.” Keith nods to his mother.

Lotor scoffs. “That was when I controlled the colony. I had limited resources and  Its primary purpose was to keep people in, not out. The Quantum Abyss was supposed to be barrier enough for any outsiders. Apparently, that proved false. But this is far different. Zarkon will have countless ships guarding any approach vectors. That’s not to mention any upgrades on the dome’s security that he’s certainly made. Even if we somehow make it past all of that, I’m sure he’ll have at least a couple of traps inside the colony itself.”

“Again, I’m not hearing a plan.”

“Well I don’t exactly have much to work with here. Meeting Zarkon in force is suicide, but subterfuge is nearly as risky...” Lotor hesitates for a moment. “...there is one possible way…”

“Go on.” Keith urges. 

“It's...something I set up should something similar happen. A backdoor, if you will. A hidden transport tunnel connecting the colony to the far side of the planet. It was well concealed, so I doubt Zarkon has found it. With a good enough distraction, we might be able to slip a small team onto the planet, and circumvent all the dome’s security.”

“What kind of distraction?”

“Remember when I said my father wants to beat you in battle?”

“Yeah…”

“Well the one thing that might entice him to fight is all of you to bring an all out attack in your Lions, and whatever else you have. With him occupied, the planetary defenses might be thin enough to slip through.”

“Yeah let’s just ignore the part where Zarkon can form Voltron and we can’t.” Pidge says.

“With the Atlas and the Lions we might be able to hold out long enough.” Shiro points out.

“Alright.” Keith muses. “For the sake of argument, let’s pretend we do all that and meet Zarkon head on. THen we’d need to send in say...the Blades to do the infiltration and get Allura out. It's definitely risky but I suppose-”

“There...is a catch.” Lotor cuts in.

Keith sighes, but motions for him to continue.

“The tunnel will only open in response to my biometrics.”

“In other words…”

“I have to be on the mission.” Lotor said flatly.

“No.” Keith says firmly.

“It's the only way.” Lotor replies matter of factly.

“After everything you’ve done, you think I’d trust you with that? Trust you with bringing back her!?” 

“Keith,” Krollia steps in. “It's not as if we’re forced to sent him alone. We can keep him in line.”

“I don’t like it.” Keith shakes his head. “Even with Blades there, he could pull something. He knows that place better than anyone, how do we know this isn’t a trap of his own?”

“Do as you wish.” Lotor replies coldly. “I’m only telling you what I think is your best chance at retrieving the Princess. If you don’t like that, then maybe you can try your hand at fighting Zarkon without my help.”

The two stare each other down for several long, uncomfortable moments.

“...I need some air.” Keith finally says, before walking out of the room.

***

Allura remains chained to the post, now looking weary. It is now night at the altean colony, and besides Allura, there is not a soul in sight.

She looks up at the synthetic moon of dome, and sighs. 

“Father what would you do?”

An image of Raimon flashes in her mind.

Allura cringes and shakes her head.

“Must Zarkon ruin every good thing in this universe?”

She sighs and leans back against the post. She closes her eyes, as if to rest.

“...psst! Hey lady!” Someone whisper yells. 

Allura’s eyes shoot wide open. She scans her immediate surroundings, seeing nothing in the darkness.

“Down here!” The voice goes on.

Allura looks down to see a young boy standing right next to her. He has a curious expression on his face.

“...hello.” Allura says, with confused optimism.

  “Hi.” The boy waves nonchalantly. “So you’re supposed to be the bad guy, huh?”

Allura winces. “Is that what Lotor says?”

“Yeah.”

“And what do you think? Do I seem like a ‘bad guy’?”

“Lotor says bad guys can look nice.”

She sighs. “In that, I have to agree with him.”

The boy doesn’t reply, choosing to instead stare up at Allura.

“So...if I really am the bad guy, why would a nice boy like you be hanging around me? I could be dangerous.”

The boy merely shrugs. “Did you really mean what you said about Lotor? The part about him not being the same Lotor?”

“I did.” Allura says without hesitation. “...why? Do you think I’m right?”

Again the boy shrugs. He does a double take before leaning in to speak the next. “He...seems kind of different from before.”

“Different how?” 

“He doesn’t remember anybody’s names. Lotor used to know all of us. He also kinda acts more...I dunno, careful? Like he’s scared of something’. Old Lotor was never scared of nothin. And that’s not even mentioning his scary parents. Especially that Zarkon guy…”

The boy shivers. “And I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed it. The other kids agree with me. And when my parents don’t think anyone’s listening they talk about it too sometimes. They still worship and serve Lotor and everything, but they seem a little confused.”

“They should be confused.” Allura nods. “They’re being used by a very bad man. He looks like the Lotor you’ve known, but he is not him. He’s taking advantage of your trust and worship and using it for his own evil means.”

“Why would he do that?” The boy asks curious.

Allura gives a pained smile. “Because we alteans are capable of great things. We have so many gifts, but unfortunately there will always be people like him who want to exploit us...” Again, Raimon, Alfor’s face flashes in her mind. 

The boy looks down, uncomfortable. “My mom says that we used to have a whole planet to ourselves. That people used to look up to us. But we almost all got wiped out, and now this is all we got. And if it weren’t for Lotor we wouldn’t have even that.”

Allura nods carefully. “Yes I...suppose that much is true.”

The boy’s expression grows sad. “So, if we used to be so awesome, how come we’re like this now? All bunched up here, scared an’ hiding. At least the ones Lotor picks get to see what it's like outside. The rest of us just gotta sit and wait. If Lotor’s really been replaced with a bad guy, then what can we do? Seems like all we’ve done for a long time is get pushed around.” 

Allura’s eyes grow hard with determination. “What you do is stand up on your own two feet. Show them that we’re more than their pawns. All it takes to prove bad men wrong is to show them that we’re still willing to fight to do the right thing. That’s...something my father used to say.” She frowns, but slowly it grows back into a smile. “We’re a proud and noble people with a great history. How about acting like it?”

This makes the boy smile. “Ya know...you’re pretty nice for a bad guy.”

At that Allura chuckles. “I try.” She grows serious. “But be careful about talking about this. I don’t know what Lotor will do if he finds out, but certainly nothing good. Having courage doesn’t mean being careless.”

The boy nods quickly, face concerned.

“Man this is all so...scary. I just wish the old Lotor would come back. I bet he’d beat up all these bad guys.”

Allura is quiet. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. The boy looks up at her, confused. Staring down at him, Allura sighs and shakes her head.

“It's nothing. Just be careful, as I said.”

The boy nods again. 

Allura tilts her head in curiosity. “By the way, what’s your name?”

The boy grins. “I’m Ayden!”

“Nice to meet you Ayden. My name is Allura. I’d shake your hand but…” She shakes the chain.

Ayden chuckles.

“Ayden!” A distant voice calls. “Where are you!?”

Ayden flinches, and gets a guilty expression. “That’s my mom. Looks like she figured out I’m not in bed.”

“Well then, you better get home and back in bed, before she finds out where you’ve really been.”

The boy nods and starts running. “Night Allura!” He calls back.

“Goodnight Ayden.” She smiles back.

The boy disappears, leaving Allura alone again. 

This time, when she stares back up at the artificial moon, she is smiling.

 ***

Keith steps out into the night air, expression sour. He strides out onto the dirt ground, kicking up dust in his wake. He finds a decent-sized rock and plops down. He glances up at the night sky but his gaze quickly turns down to the dirt. 

Shortly there is the pitter-patter of feet behind. Keith stiffens and turns around. He relaxes when he sees that it’s Kosmo approaching.

“Hey boy.” Keith smiles as the wolf walks over to sit beside him. “Sorry I haven’t had much time for you lately, buddy.”

The wolf barks in agreement. Keith shakes his head, and starts scratching Kosmo on the top of his head. The wolf lays down and it's tail begins to wag as Keith continues his scratching. 

“We’re gonna be going back to the Quantum Abyss soon.” Keith explains. “I bet it’ll be nice to be home huh?”

The wolf predictably, does not reply.

“Then again maybe not. Was kind of a crazy place to try and survive in wasn’t it?”

Kosmo barks, and Keith cracks a smile. He shakes his head and looks up at the night sky.

“...quiznak. How did I get us in this mess. I could really use Allura’s advice right now. Isn’t that ironic?”

“Well, I’m no altean Princess…” Comes Shiro’s voice. “...but I’ve been known to give advice from time to time.”

Keith turns to see his mentor approach.

“This seat taken?”

Keith shakes his head, and scoots over. Shiro sits and the two are quiet for a moment. The only sound is Keith scratching Kosmo’s head.

“...be honest with me Shiro, am I screwing everything up?” Keith finally asks.

Shiro studies him. “Do you think you’re screwing everything up?” 

“I made a really bad call agreeing to go meet those alteans. Then I couldn’t stop Allura from getting captured. And now, the best plan I can come up with is to trust in the guy who tried to kill us less than a year ago. I’m trying to keep my hold on the situation, but it feels like everything’s spinning out of control.”

Shiro scratches his chin. “Well you asked me be honest, so I won't tell you that everything’s turning up roses. We’re in a rough spot, that’s for sure.” “You can say that again.” Keith agrees. “Trusting Lotor...I’m just terrified that this is going to be one more bad call. One more screw up.”

“Well Keith, it's not like you’re the only one in there. Kolivan, you mother, the other blades. If you can’t trust Lotor, you can at least trust them to handle him if anything goes wrong. You’re the leader of the team, so yeah a lot of the responsibility falls on you. But part of that is knowing when to trust the people under you with a task. You might be the head, but the rest of the body’s there for a reason.”

Keith sighs. “You’re right, as usual. I guess we just gotta hope Lotor isn’t completely making all this up.”

“Worst case scenario, we just improvise.”

“Yeah, that never goes wrong.” Keith smirks, shaking his head. 

They grow quiet again, as Keith begins staring at the stars again.

“You’re getting better at it.” Shiro says with a smile. 

“At what?”

“At showing how terrified you are.”

Keith stiffens. 

“Relax, it's normal. Every leader is scared that they’re doing the wrong thing and making a bad call. The key is not showing it, and you’re doing alright.”

“You still saw through me.” Keith replies scratching the back of his neck.

“I’ve got a bit of a knack for spotting stuff like that.” Shiro shrugs. “...so you’re really worried about her, huh?”

Keith hesitates, then nods his head. “...yeah. I know she’s probably fine and knowing her, already working on her own escape plan by now. But...it still sucks. Not knowing, I mean.”

Shiro pauses. “...yeah. It does suck.”

Keith laughs. “Really? No words of wisdom or guidance for that one?”

“Nah. Some things just suck. But that’s life. We’ll get past it.”

Keith nods with determination. “Yeah we will.”

Kosmo barks in apparent agreement.

Shiro looks down at the wolf and chuckles. “Sure would be nice if you could just use Kosmo to jump in, grab Allura, and jump out.”

“Yeah it would, ” Keith smiles. “But even he has limits.”

“Oh yeah?”

Keith nods. “Usually he needs line of sight, or has to have been there before. Limited distance too.”

“Ah well. Never is that easy, is it?”

“Nope.”

Keith gives the wolf one last scratch and stands up. 

“Well…I’ve wasted enough time out here.”

Shiro gets up and they both start walking back to the Garrison Base. 

After a moment, Keith smiles and shakes his head. “You know Shiro, I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

Shiro frowns. “You’d get by.”

“You kidding? I’d be completely lost.”

“Well you’d better figure it out.” Shiro’s frown deepens. “I may not always be here to give you advice...”

“Hey, quit talking like that.” Keith says serious. “And that’s an order.”

  After a moment Shiro shrugs. “Yes sir.”

“Now let’s go in there and pretend this plan isn’t as crazy as it really is. Because...that’s what leaders do?”

Shiro smiles widely. “Now you’re getting it.” 

***

Morning rises in the altean colony. Alteans begin to rise and go about their daily tasks. Allura still receives many dirty looks, but none try to engage her this time. The sun continues to rise and as it does Allura begins to pant. Her breaths start to grow ragged. 

That is until a short while later, when an elderly woman approaches her. The woman walks with a slow gait, age wearing heavy on her. She carries a basket in her hands. Strangely, she looks on Allura with a more curious than hateful expression. 

“Well...I’m not impressed.”

“...s-sorry?” Allura stutters, coughing.

“The way everyone talks about you, I figure you ought to have horns, scales and be able to breathe fire. Instead, I see a young girl strung up and left out to dry.”

Allura blinks with surprise. 

“You haven’t had anything to eat or drink have you?” The woman goes on.

“No…” Allura replies, uncertain.

The woman shakes her head and reaches into the basket. She pulls out a glass bottle of water which she opens holds up to Alllura’s lips. 

“Come on now, drink slowly.”

Allura draws from bottle, taking slow but long gulps. The woman pulls the bottle away, empty.

“...thank you.” Allura says genuinely.

The old woman shrugs. “What’s your name, girl?”

“Allura.”

“Well Allura, I’m Sahan.”

“Nice to meet you, Sahan.” 

Sahan studies Allura, tapping her chin. 

“So, Allura. How does a nice young girl like yourself end up here, tied to a post?”

“Why don’t you ask Lotor?”

“Because i’m asking you.” Sahan frowns. “Now don’t make me ask again, I may be old but I still know how to discipline an unruly child.”

Allura smirks at that, which Sahan doesn’t seem to like.

“I’m here because I was trying to help some alteans that I thought wanted to be free of Lotor. It turned out to be a trap and I was imprisoned here.”

“And why would you think someone would want to escape from here?”

“Because believe it or not, Lotor isn’t who you think he is. He’s an imposter who’s manipulating your affections so he can use you as pawns in his father’s war.”

Sahan studies her for a long moment. “...are you a loon?”

“I’m not crazy, fi that’s what you’re asking.”

The old woman chuckles. “Well you must think I’m one then, if you expect me to be able to swallow that story.”

“Oh? And you haven’t noticed anything strange about Lotor, since his return? Forgotten names? Unusual behavior? Bringing strangers into the colony? Fighting alongside the Galra Empire, the institution which displaced you all in the first place?”

Sahan says nothing, opting to pilfer through her basket instead.

“Let’s...pretend I think your words hold some weight. I didn’t say they do, but let’s...pretend. Who would that make you then? You’re altean, that’s for sure. But I’ve lived here as long as anyone, and I don’t recognize you. Where are you from? Are there other surviving alteans on the outside?”

“I’ll answer your last question first: Not really. To my knowledge only myself and one other survived, besides those from this colony. As for who I really am…” Allura straightens. “I am the last of the royal altean line. Daughter of King Alfor, I am Princess Allura. And whether you believe it or not, I am here to help my people.”

“Princess, huh?” Sahan says skeptically.

“Ask Lotor yourself, if you do not believe me.  I think he will admit to that much, though I’m certain he will call me a coward and a traitor to my people with the same breath.”

“Well if you really are the Princess then-”

“Sahan!? What are you doing over there? Don’t listen to that viper!” An older man calls over.

“Oh stuff it down your gullet, Merv! I can talk to whoever I please!”

The old man reddened at that, but Sahan paid him no heed and turned back to Allura.

“So girl, if you’re the Princess, then where have you been all these years?”

“My father, King Alfor sent my advice Coran and I away to protect the Castle of Lions and the secrets of Voltron from Zarkon. We slept for many millennia in stasis, until new Paladins arrived to help us begin to fight back against the Galra Empire.”

Merv, maintaining a foul expression, slowly walks over to the pair. He stops dozen feet or so back, and continued to look on disapprovingly, but said nothing more.

“So if that really is true then...you used to live on old Altea?” Sahan asks carefully.

Allura smiles and nods. “It was the most beautiful planet in the universe…”

As she continues to talk, more curious alteans approach. If questioned, Sahan always gives a curt reply and asks Allura to continue. However, as the number of alteans grows, the more they simply listen. She smiles and winks when she sees Ayden in the crowd. He returns the expression. 

“...and if the wind hit them in the right way, it sounded like those whispering trees were singing.”

The alteans are glued to Allura’s every word on the subject of Altea.

Sahan smiles wistfully. “My...grandmother told me about those. She used to tell me lots of stories of how grand old altea was.”

“It certainly was…” Allura remarks, equally wistful.

The two are silent for a moment. Then, Sahan seems to notice the crowd around them for the first time. She sweeps her gaze across them, and nods seeming satisfied by the number.

“Allura,” She says, growing serious, “there's something I’m going to ask you, and by stars you better answer me truthfully.”

“Alright.” Allura nods for her to continue.

Sahan takes a breath. “...many of our youths have gone to fight alongside Lotor in those monstrous contraptions. Many have not come back. Did you kill any of them?”

Allura’s eyes blaze. “You have been lied to. Those altean pilots are alive.”

The is a series of gasps and mumbles. Sahan puts up a hand silencing them. She studies Allura, as if searching for any sign of deception.

“...can you prove this?”

Allura frowns with uncertainty. However after a moment her eyes widen.

“I believe I can! If those alteans died in battle, there’s no way I would know any of their names, would there?”

“...perhaps.”

Allura draws in a breath. “Dramor, Lagmor, Gratva…”

As she rattles off names, many from the crowd let out sounds of shock and joy. 

“...Vatta.” Allura finishes.

  Sahan’s eyes widen but she otherwise remains guarded. 

“I’m going to need a little more than that.”

Allura thinks for a moment. “Well Gratva is a stubborn older fellow…”

“That he is.” Sahan nods. “What about Vatta?”

She considers. “...perhaps it was my imagination but there seemed to be something between her and that Dramor boy-”

“That’s her. For reasons I’ll never fathom she loves that fool-boy.”

  Sahan lets out a sigh of relief and smiles warmly. “Thank you.”

Allura nods in reply. 

“So you believe me then?”

“About them being alive? Yes. I said nothing about the rest of it.”

“And yet, this means that Lotor lied to you.”

“Or he was mistaken.”

Allura sighs longsufferingly. “I understand your hesitation but-”

“All of you are to return to your duties!” A voice bellows through the crowd. Luca walks through the crowd of alteans. They collectively look down as if in guilt. Except for Sahan, of course. Luca strides up to stare Allura in the face.

“You are not to speak to them.”

“Or what?” Allura replies.

“There will be consequences.” She turns back to the alteans. “Leave now.  Lotor’s orders. This woman’s propaganda is clearly affecting you all. Return to your duties.”

The alteans quickly disperse, with only a handful hesitating.

“Thank you, Allura.” Sahan says quickly. “For telling me that my granddaughter still lives.”

 “And thank you for listening.”

Sahan smiles. “Well after a certain young man vouched for you, I had to find out for myself.”

Allura looks over at Ayden and nods in appreciation.

“You will return to your duties.” Luca repeats.

“Luca I remember when you were in diapers don’t you talk down to me.”

Luca hesitates but ultimately remains her stance. Sahan gives Allura one last nod, before turning to walk away, with the remaining alteans in tow. Luce turns as well but stops,  shooting a curious look over her shoulder.

“You can’t really think we’ll turn on Lotor.”

Allura shrugs. Luca scoff and looks as if to leave, but hesitates once more. When she speaks next it seems to be with a great deal of effort.

“...why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me? When the trap was sprung, you threw me out of the way.”

“It...was the right thing to do.”

“I betrayed you, I’m your enemy!” Luca hisses. “That makes no sense!”

“That’s not the way I see it.” Allura says simply.

Luca stares at her, shifting from foot to foot. Then, throwing up her hands in frustration, she stomps off, leaving a smirking Allura behind.

***

When Keith and Shiro return to the briefing room, they are surprised to find a commotion among the room’s occupants. It seemed to somewhere between argument and discussion.

“What’s going on?” Keith asks, and all eyes turn to him. Then, they shift over to Pidge, who adjusts her glasses nervously.

“That data that we stole just finished decrypting. I’ve been spending the past few minutes going over it and trying to interpret what it all means…”

“And?”

Pidge sucks in a deep breath, and forces herself to  look Keith in the eye. “I know what happened to the Dark Paladin’s reality. I know why they came here.”

“Go on.” Keith says, uneasy.

“It's all detailed here in Honerva’s notes.” Pidge brings up an image of Voltron, with several energy readouts beside it. “Zarkon a machine unlike any other and what could be done with it is almost unfathomable to any sane person. Unfortunately Honerva and Zarkon aren’t sane. They thought that Voltron could serve as a conduit for all the universe’s supply of quintessence.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that they were going to open the floodgates of the quintessence field, with Voltron as the focal point. They were going to try and energize Voltron completely with all the quintessence in their universe.”

“Like what Lotor did with Scincline?” 

“No.” Lotor shakes his head. “What I did only soaked up a tiny portion of that sea of energy. Zarkon was trying to draw in the whole space-damned ocean.”

“But isn’t that...infinite?”

“Pretty much.” Pidge nods. “The amount of energy that would be funnelled into Voltron would effectively be endless. If Zarkon were to be inside Voltron when that happened assuming he survived...well he’d basically become all powerful. All the universe’s energy at his disposal. The notes say that Zarkon wanted to reshape the universe to his will, to make a reality where no one could ever resist his rule again.”

There is a collective shiver among the rooms inhabitants.

“Well...what happened?” Keith finally ask.

“Their calculations were wrong.” Pidge explains. “Nothing, not even Voltron could accept all of that energy at once. Voltron survived but the strain that trying to funnel all of that energy put on the fabric of space-time was unbearable. It actually frayed the fabric of their entire universe. They didn’t have much time after that. They used all the energy they were able to draw in to bore a hole into our reality, and the rest of it is history. The Darktron reality is just...dead. Torn to pieces.” 

The room grows silent. Keith swallows hard, and forces himself to ask the question on everyone’s mind.

“...do you know what they’re going to do next.”

Pidge looks sick. “Some of the notes were more recent. The reports there indicate that...they’re going to try again. ”

“They...they’d really risk destroying a second universe? After what happened the first time?”

“Yes, but they have a resource they didn’t have before: the alteans. They have a unique relationship with quintessence and the colony was pretty much a gold-mine for them. Honerva plans  open another breach to the quintessence field with the modified teleduv, and then use alteans in robeasts to filter the flow of quintessence, before in turn passing it off to their Voltron. With enough of the alteans she thinks she manage the massive flow of quintessence this time.”

“Is she right?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. The amount of math here...I could spend years going through it all.”

“So in other words, we have two nightmare scenarios. We just don’t know which one is most likely.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

Keith closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens his eyes, they are hard as stone.

“Then I don’t think I need to tell anyone in this room that failure is not an option. We will not let this happen to our reality. We’re going to stop Zarkon, and that starts with getting Allura back. We’re gonna need her to form Voltron and kick Zarkon and his cronies back down the hole they crawled into our reality from.”

He turns to Lotor. “We’ll do it your way. What do you need?”

“A ship. Fast one, with stealth.” 

“Done.”

“And, whether I like it or not, I suspect I’ll have some company.” Lotor’s eyes flicker over to the blades, Acxa in particular.

“That’s right.”

“Then the only other thing I need is form you, is to distract Zarkon.”

“I think we can manage that.” Keith nods, he sweeps his gaze across the allied leaders of the Coalition. “Any question.”

There are none.

“Good.” His eyes narrow. “Let’s go get our Princess back.”

[angels17324]

The Violet Paladin Chapter 11

Word Count: 1322 Update Schedule: Every Monday [Masterlist] [Prev]

After having changed back from our paladin gear everyone gathered back into the control room, we were all surrounding Pidge’s chair watching her work on trying to decipher the information we’d taken from Sendak and the Ship that had landed on Arus. 

“You know I don’t think your father would approve of searching through and enemy’s memories,” Coran looked at Allura. 

“I know but we have to do everything we can to defeat Zarkon,” She reasoned with him. 

“Once we learn his weaknesses we can drive up to his front door and challenge him to a fight,” Lance cockily said,  “Winner gets the universe,” Everyone glared at him. 

“Anything good Pidge?” Shiro asked. 

“We need anything we can get,” I said. 

“We don’t even have a decent map of the empire,” Keith said. 

“Who needs a map, after 10,00 years of conquering I could probably fire my bayard in any direction and hit a ship,” Lance crossed his arms. 

“If we could find some troop locations or supply routes easy hit and run targets we could start freeing planets,” Shiro said. 

“Borning~ I want the big kaboom!” Lance pumped his fists up. 

“He’s had 10,000 years to build an empire we can’t tear it down overnight, especially not with six inexperienced pilots and a support ship hitting him where he lives would be a huge mistake,”

“Okay after having cross-referencing Sendak's memories with the downed ship one thing kept repeating something called a ‘Universal Station’” 

“Universal Station? Like a station that controls the universe,” 

“We are translating it from Galra so it could also just as easily mean Galactic hub,” She explained.

“I’ll pull up the location on the screens,” Coran pulled up an image of what seemed to be two planets and a large space rock? But no base to be seen. 

“There’s nothing there!” Lance complained. 

“We aren’t picking up anything on our scanners either,” Coran said. 

“Maybe he remembered it wrong?” Keith questioned. 

“Or we just stumbled upon a top-secret base in Sendak’s memories,” Pidge explained. 

“Only one way to find out for sure,” I said. 

“Let’s go take a look,” Allura piloted us towards the location but kept the ship far enough away not to be picked up.

“Seems the two planets warp the electron emission spectrum enough to keep the base off our deep space scanners,”

“So you can only see it if you know where to look,” Pidge said, we watched the base for a moment. 

“This base must handle shipments from all over the Galra Empire,” 

“If it’s just some airport where shipments come and go why is it hidden?” I asked. 

“There’s gotta be more to it then we’re seeing,” 

“We will have to go down to take a look,” Allura said, “We will need to enter here the central control building” 

“I’m sorry, Princess did you say ‘we’?” Keith asked we all turned to look at Allura.

“I’m going with you I’ve traveled through the transportation hubs many times with my father before the war began, I know more about them than any of you,” She explained. 

“Princess, I’d rather you stay here,” Coran pleaded. 

“I’m just as much a part of this fight as the rest of you. I’m going. Does anyone have a problem with that?” She looked at each of us everyone just turned away, though you could tell we all had a problem with her going we just didn’t know what to say. 

Finally, Shiro spoke, “I don’t have a problem with it,” everyone was shocked except Allura who was quite happy. Everyone suited back up and met in the green lion, at some point Pidge had added the tech from the invisible maze to it for cloaking. We were successfully able to hide her lion before exiting to take over the control room. 

We snuck in Shiro took out the Galra soldier while Lance took out the two Sentries. Pidge hooked up to the system I helped Lance drag the busted Sentries out of site. I sat next to Pidge when Hunk started to talk about a joke we heard in class. 

“Hey, guys sorry to interrupt but I think we got company,” Keith warned we all ducked under the desks when a call came in. 

“I think he’s waiting for a signal,” I whispered. 

“I got it,” Hunk dragged out one of the Sentries and did some weird hand gestures which seemed to work because the call ended. 

“Okay, download complete,” Pidge announced. 

“What’s it say?” Keith asked. 

“Nothing. This place doesn’t have any useful information. Just a schedule of the ships coming in and out.” 

“Well, this was a bust,” Lance said. 

“Let's get back to the castle,” Shiro said. 

“Wait Pidge do you know where that ship is heading?” Allura asked. 

“Uh… it's scheduled to be here for about half an hour, then head back to central command,” 

“That’s where they have the information we need, I’m going in,” Allura announced. 

“What? No way!” Lance shouted. 

“It’s too dangerous,” I tried to reason with her. 

“How are you going to get in?” Keith asked. 

Allura pulled off her helmet, “I’m going to walk right through the front.” She shifted to look just like a Galran soldier minus the uniform. Everyone was amazed and questioned her about this power which she explained. 

“I’m going with you,” Shiro said. 

“You’ll stick out like a Choferiak’s Nose,” 

“You’re going to need that nose Princess, Shiro’s arm is the only thing we can use to interface with Galra tech,” Pidge explained. After we devised a plan to get Shiro on board with Allura they were on their way. We watched from the control room when they were stopped. I held my breath and sighed out when they made it on. 

“What do you think is in all those containers?” Keith asked.

“I suspect that its sporks,” Hunk said. We all just glanced at him, “They’re an advanced species surely they’ve realized its useless to have two utensils when one can easily do the job,” He explained. While we were watching Shiro and Allura Pidge had apparently hooked up to one of the Sentries, however, it shut down. 

“Whoa, check out this guy,” Keith said, we turned back to see a scary looking dude in a cloak. 

“He might be apart of the reason that the base is being kept a secret,” I said. 

“I’m gonna go check it out,” Keith said. 

“How about we lay low and you don’t blow our cover?” Lance said but Keith didn’t listen. 

“I’m going with you,” I said. 

“(Y/n) not you too! Don’t walk through that door!” Lance yelled but I had already followed Keith out. 

“You don’t need to come with me I’m fine on my own,” He told me. 

“Yeah well like Lance said we don’t want to blow our cover besides I can fire my weapon from long distance,” I said. 

“Fine, just don’t get hurt,” He kept ahead of me as we followed the scary dude. They were leading the containers inside the base. Just as the doors were about to close we both made it in and followed at a distance. Keith and I took out the two guards and walked towards a room that had a lot of those containers. I knelt down close to the wall while Keith stood behind me and peaked out. 

“What is this?” I whispered and watched what the scary dude did with one of the containers. 

“Coran you need to see this,” Keith said as we sent a live feed to the ship and to Pidge, Lance and Hunk. In our helmets, we heard the Sentry explain that it was quintessence. “Guy’s I’m going to steal some of this Quint-whatever,” Keith said and runoff. 

“Keith!” I whisper shouted following him. Keith hid behind the first set of walls while I was behind the second. “Keith you shouldn’t be that close he could see you,” I said. 

Keith grabbed one of the containers and hid on the other side. At first, it seemed like the guy didn’t notice but when Keith turned back to look at the guy appear behind the wall in front of him I fired an arrow at him but he had already blasted Keith back making him drop the container. I ran out to help Keith attack the guy, but he was too quick and kept disappearing. 

“Stay back!” He told me 

“And leave you to fight this dude alone no way!” I shouted the guy focused his attacks on Keith, I aimed an arrow at him and fired when he thought he got Keith. The guy blocked Keith’s next attack and threw him back. “Keith are you okay?” I asked flying over to him. “Your hand!” I gasped, “Pidge we need an extraction now!” I said. The guy kept attacking us as we flew around the room. We had made it onto the conveyor belt thing and both readied our weapons the guy was about to attack but the green lion came just in time it destroyed the container splashing both Keith and I, in the quintessence we ran into the green lion's mouth. I turned to look at Keith. He was looking at his hand which healed. “How’d that happen?” I said his hand was completely healed. We joined the other in the head as we rescued a pod that Allura and Shiro were in. But only Shiro came up. 

“Where’s Allura?” Lance asked as Shiro kept his gaze down. 

“She sacrificed herself to save me,” He explained.

“So she’s still on that ship?” Pidge asked. 

“The one about to head back to central command?” Hunk said. 

“The place that’s way too dangerous for us to attack?” Keith added okay now they’re just making him feel worse. 

“We can’t let Zarkon get Allura,” 

“But you’re the one who said attacking there would be a mistake,” I said.  

“I know, but now we don’t have a choice.”  Tag List~

@somebodytouchedmysaeran @ittie-bittie-tittie @izabellah816

[party-of-rpg-muses]

Under the cut, I go over various points as to what happened in my canon of Heavensward.

@the-icebreaker @musesbyarya

I mentioned this before, but with Nanamo being poisoned and believed to be dead, Raubahn getting his arm cut off, and the Scions missing, Omutu entered a deep depression and even considers suicide for a while.

Upon seeing Estinien alive and well, S’bera was the first to stand and face him, surprised to see him alive and even worried he might attack. But even despite Estinien being much more docile, S’bera still couldn’t fully trust him. Especially since he still held Nidhogg’s Eye.

While in Ishgard, Frances’ other party members (sans Omutu) made absolutely sure and made her swear to not steal anything.Given how the people of Ishgard are, stealing would only cause more trouble for them.

During their stay in Ishgard, Ishita had to put on glamors to hide her dragon-like appearance.

When Alphinaud and Tataru are arrested and invoke Trial by Combat, the group suggested having S’bera and Omutu fight on behalf of their friends, seeing as one is the Azure Dragoon while the other is a Paladin. Omutu was... less than cooperative, bemoaning that he’s “no longer a true paladin”. So in the end, it was just S’bera who fought on behalf of Tataru.

It was Haurchefant that helped Omutu get out of his depression and it was then that he finally decided to assist his friends yet again.

Upon getting out of his depression, Omutu still felt guilty about wearing his Paladin’s armor, despite Nanamo’s blood being on his hands. He failed to protect her and everyone believes he had a hand in killing her, so he snuck back into Ul’dah to return his armor, only for his request to be rejected. Despite what happened, the Sultansworn stood by him and believed Omutu and his friends were innocent. Though he still believed he was no longer worthy of the armor, he kept it.

Upon returning, Omutu would pick up the Dark Knight job, serving as a replacement for the armor he no longer believed he was worthy to wear and to reflect and make use of the dark feelings in his heart and soul.

Upon hearing that Raubahn was still alive, Omutu’s mood perked up slightly and instantly wanted to mount a rescue.

When it was revealed that they had a Doman contact in Mor Dhona, it was suggested that Ishita goes (under a disguise), since she’s from the Far East as well and wouldn’t arise much suspicion. She would later return and relay the information to the others.

Learning that Raubahn was being kept in Halatali, Omutu took it upon himself to lead the charge. He knows where Halatali is and can navigate the place. Seeing a spark of a fire burning in his eyes, they allowed it.

Upon finding Raubahn and the room being filled with poison, U’tala was tasked with keeping him alive as long as possible, which proved to be quite difficult with all the beasts and the aforementioned poison.

During the fight against Illberd, Omutu’s rage started to get the better of him, triggering his first Limit Break, increasing his party (as well as Alphinaud, Yugiri, and Raubahn’s) defenses, allowing them to outlast the onslaught of attacks.

Omutu’s mood perked up considerably when Alphinaud revealed that Nanamo may actually be alive, but while he wished for that to be true, he was unsure. But his attention was more focused on Illberd’s mention of Ala Mhigo.

When Raubahn said “I'm but a cripple and a fool, and still you came for me... I'm in your debt.”, Omutu’s first response was to give the Flame Salute and say that no debt is needed. That if there was a chance that he and Nanamo still lived, he would risk life and limb to see them both safe.

Upon meeting with Lolorito and learning he sabotaged Teledji’s plot to assassinate Nanamo, Omutu was less than willing to believe him. And upon receiving the antidote, Omutu took it upon himself to test it and make sure it isn’t some kind of poison.

In Ul’dah, Omutu was preset when Nanamo awoke, a great weight finally being lifted from his heart when she opened her eyes. But just before entering her chambers, he switched back into his Paladin armor, feeling it more appropriate that a member of the Sultansworn would be present, rather than a Dark Knight. And with Nanamo being alive and well, he once again wore his armor with pride.

S’bera was the one who defeated Nidhogg (though it was still Estinien that killed him and took his eye). But before delivering in finishing blow, S’bera said “Gaze upon me, father, grandsires. I know I have made you proud.”

At the top of The Vault, Frances easily hears Ser Zephirin from his vantage point and quickly lines up a shot. While she managed to hit him, he was still able to get a shot off, aimed at S’bera, only for the attack to be blocked by Haurchefant, who dies right there, despite U’tala, Ishita, and Omutu’s desperate attempts to heal him.

When Y’shtola was in her room at the inn, S’bera attempted to sneak by and look through her window in hopes of seeing her changing. He was instantly stopped by his party members, all of whom kept a close eye on him until Y’shtola came.

Upon reaching Idyllshire, one of Frances’ first thoughts was what kind of stuff she could steal from this place. The machinery were interesting, but didn’t seem to be worth much and she struggled to find any books that could possibly be worth something.

Upon reaching Azys Lla, U’tala was the one who told the group about some of the things the Allagan did. At least, according to what her mother told her. She’s left horrified to learn that all of that was much more than true.

During the battle against the Knights of the Round, Omutu took it upon himself to do battle with King Thodon directly while the others dealt with the Knights, the entire time calling him out on his actions, letting his people die for a lie. All the while, he got angrier and angrier at the King’s responses. On occasion, he would break away from fighting the King to help the others.

Each of the party members would have exchanges with members of the Heavens’ Ward who fight in the same style as they do. S’bera with Ser Ignasse,Ser Paulecrain, and Ser Vellguine (as they use lances/spears), U’tala with Ser Haumeric and Ser Noudenet (being Conjurers), Ishita with Ser Charibert and Ser Hermenost (they use black magic), Omutu with King Thordon and Ser Adelphel, and Frances would help out wherever possible.

Near the end of the fight, Omutu and U’tala, so enraged by the actions of the Heavens’ Ward and King Thordon’s actions, trigger their Limit Breaks, just in time for Thordon’s ultimate attack, The Light of Ascalon, allowing the group to withstand the attack. U’tala heals everyone to full health while Omutu increases everyone’s defense.

Upon arriving back at Ishgard, Ishita finally reveals herself as an Au Ra, no longer using glamors to hide her identity.

Frances, given her heightened senses and sensitivity to aether, was quickly able to discern Thancred’s inability to use magic. She can smell the aether within him, but it doesn’t flow like it should. To her, his aether is stifled.

During the Grand Melee, S’bera’s party (sans U’tala) each take part. S’bera fights for Ishgard, Omutu fights for Ul’dah, Frances fights for Limsa Lominsa, and Ishita fights for Gridania. S’bera managed to defeat Raubahn, only just barely, being so surprised by his strength, even with one arm. He believes that if Raubahn had both arms, he would have been absolutely destroyed.

When Estinien (possessed by Nidhogg) appeared at the Falcon’s Nest and spilled Vidofnir‘s blood, S’bera jumped up to where he was and attempted to reason with him, but to no avail. U’tala was on heal duty, trying to keep Vidofnir alive until proper help arrived.

S’bera was the one who absorbed Hraesvelgr’s Eye just before leading the charge against Nidhogg. And following the battle, it took the efforts of everyone to pry the Eyes off of Estinien.

S’bera’s party did battle with the Warriros of Darkness, each one fighting with their counterparts. S’bera against Arbert, Omutu against Blanhaerz, Frances against J'rhoomale, Ishita against Naillebert, and U’tala against Lamimi.

During the fight with Griffin, Omutu calls him out for sending their brothers and sisters to their deaths, fighting a battle they have no hope of winning. He says that while he wishes to see Ala Mhigo free as well, having people die for nothing isn’t the way to go.

After the battle, he’s left horrified by the death and destruction, as well as Illberd’s suicide. So much so that he vomits right then and there. But the horror is short-lived before the Shinryu is summoned.

S’bera, having already lost quite a few of his friends, opts to stay behind and try to save Papalymo, only for the others to bid him to flee. They only manage to get him to leave when Frances literally picks him up and carries him to the airship. Omutu gives his final regards to Papalymo, saying that he was proud and honored to befriend him.

[saidelia-draconis]

💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely

  The evening fire was crackling in its brazier, several huddled soldiers around it. Saidelia watched as the flames danced. Her breath rose mist, yet her toes were growing too warm for her comfort. She listlessly shoveled a smorgasbord of meats and vegetables into her mouth from her bowl. She hadn’t the faintest clue what the meal for tonight was supposed to be. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to ask. As she was nearing the last dregs of her dinner, she felt a gloved hand clap her on the shoulder.

“Good evening, Dragon.”

  Startled, Saidelia jumped, dropping her bowl into the snow and spinning around to face the man who had disturbed her dinner. A weak smile crossed her face.

“Evening, Sayyid.”

“Not my intention to startle you. Sorry. How are you?”

  Faruq Sayyid was a tall, swarthy man, with an ever-present smile. He sat down beside her, crossing a leg over his knee as he peered into the fire. Saidelia thought for a moment, shrugging and following his gaze.

“Eh, hanging in there, I guess. I haven’t seen much of you in a while. Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been seeing more of Emily, actually. Things are going well.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about. You got a few minutes?”

 She scowled softly, regarding the man next to her with suspicion. She fidgeted uncomfortably, having some idea as to where their conversation was headed.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask girl advice from, Sayyid.”

“It’s not about that. Please, would you come to my tent?”

  Still slightly unsettled, Saidelia dismounted the log the two were sharing. He was quick to rise, a good deal more lissome and spry than she was. Already a few steps ahead of her, the man cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder to ensure that that the paladin was keeping up with him.

  When the two finally arrived at Faruq’s tent, the two slipped inside, met with another woman, somewhere in her late twenties. She had chocolate-brown hair, wearing the usual garb of the Crusade over her furs. She smiled in greeting to the two.

“Evening, Saidelia. Good to see you again.”

“Evening, Townshed.”

“Dear, may we have the room?”

“Of course. Lovely to see you as always.”

  On her way out, the other woman grasped Saidelia’s hands in her own, offering her a kind, gentle smile. Saidelia predictably froze, stuck somewhere in a state of stunned awkwardness. The two were left alone, Faruq urging Saidelia to sit. He chuckled awkwardly, pouring over a hastily-constructed cabinet.

“Good thing you don’t drink. It’s uncomfortable never having anything to offer.”

  Saidelia chuckled awkwardly, finally finding herself a seat at the foot of the bed that Faruq and Emily shared. She clasped her hands together, trying to drum up awkward conversation.

“I’m happy for you two. Nice to see that you finally found someone.”

“Don’t I know it. Hard when you’re as odd as someone like me.”

  They shared a chuckle, the older man sitting down next to his friend, giving her an awkward side hug. He exhaled slowly, drumming his fingers on his knees for a moment.

“So listen, Saidelia–”

“This isn’t about that fight you guys had, is it? I told you I’m not good with that stuff.”

“No, it’s not, I promise. Well, it is, but not in that way.”

  Faruq uttered a long, slow sigh as he fiddled with a trinket in his palm, keeping eye-contact to a minimum. When he spoke, his tone was strained, hesitant.

“Listen, Saidelia. I’ve done a lot of thinking about what Emily said since we made up. It sucks to admit, but I think she might be right.”

  A long, uncomfortable silence permeated the air as the two sat together. Saidelia had rather vividly remembered the two of them quibbling about their future plans. To hear Faruq admitting that the Crusade wasn’t a viable long-term was a blow.

“I… I See. So what does that mean?”

“Well… It means that when my tour is up, Emily and I are moving back home. She’s right. Icecrown is a terrible place to start a family. Besides, I’m not cut out for a life of glory like you.”

“Sayyid, I–”

“I just wanted you to hear it from me, rather than some clerk.”

  Saidelia stopped short, her voice failing her. She could feel herself growing choked up. She glanced away, biting down on the inside of her lip. She could feel the blood pooling in her gums. He kept his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t decide this overnight. I just thought it was better to leave and start a family, rather than end up like… You know.”

“Sam and I.”

“Well, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine.”

  With Saidelia starting to rise from the bed, Faruq held onto her arm, pulling her back down to sit with him once again. He draped a sympathetic hand over her shoulder. He stared at the girl who was clearly struggling to maintain her composure.

“Saidelia, I’m not doing this because of you.”

“I know. That’s what makes it so hard.”

  Saidelia laid her head on Faruq’s shoulder, taking the moment to relish the human contact. The two sat silently for several minutes until the infiltrator cleared his throat.

“Well, anyway. I thought it was only right that you have this.”

  From the palm of his hand, he extended a small bagde, black, gold, and white. A sigil of the Crusade.

“I didn’t think it was right to keep it from the rest. Put it in the box with Halveth, Couseland, and Alvarez.”

  Saidelia nodded, accepting the badge and slowly rising from her seated position with Faruq.

“I… Yeah, I will. And, Sayyid. I’m happy for you, I really am.”

“I know you are, thank you. I’m just sorry to leave you the last one in the service. If you’re ever down southern Kalimdor way, you’ll always have a place to stay.”

(Thank you for the ask, @olivia-lovecraft)

[kcwcommentary]

VLD2x03 – “Shiro’s Escape”

2x03 – “Shiro’s Escape”

Shiro’s in a healing pod recovering from being “blasted by a space witch and mauled by giant lizards.” As he does so, we get a flashback to when he was captured by the Galra. “You took my hand, what more do you want?” he asks. That suggests that his amputation wasn’t a necessary medical procedure but a direct violation. It would have been nice (and necessary writing) if the show had fully explained the situation that led to Shiro’s amputation. Someone having to have an amputation is a traumatic event; you don’t do that to a character just because you think it would look cool.

A Galra named Ulaz in the room attacks the others and helps Shiro escape and get back to Earth, telling him that the Blade of Marmora is with him. Ulaz is clearly very different, and far more interesting, than other Galra we’ve seen before.

Haggar converts Prorok, against his will, into a Robeast. Haggar can definitely be creepy and cruel, but I don’t find her compelling at all. I know VLD is a sort of reincarnation of DotU from the 80s, but this is now, not then. Haggar and Zarkon behaving like 80s cartoon villains in VLD gets old after a while.

Shiro calls Allura out on her proclaiming one cannot trust any Galra. Her distrust is understandable, but I’m glad the show is trying to not make Galra monolithically villainous. It seems, of the Paladins, only Shiro and Keith at this point have realized that Zarkon was the original Black Paladin. I guess this is the first time the team has had since the battle at the end of season one to decompress and think about what happened then. I love that Keith refers explicitly to the black bayard as “Shiro’s bayard.” (Too bad the show decides to take it away from Shiro because the EPs wanted Shiro gone and Keith as Black Paladin. It would have been nice if the EPs had believed in Shiro as much as Keith does in these early seasons.)

“I wanted to protect you from the dark history of the Paladins so that you would have a chance to bond with the Lions on your own,” Allura says. Good characters have character flaws, and this is showing some of Allura’s. She knew the huge responsibility that was being asked of Shiro and crew, but by withholding information like this, she wasn’t giving them everything they need to become who they would have to be as Paladins. They can’t find their place in this struggle, understand their relationships with their Lions, without knowing the history of what has come before.

“The Black Lion might have a different take on the matter,” Shiro says in response to Allura proclaiming him to absolutely be the Black Paladin now. There’s so much long-term tension in the doubts Shiro expresses right then. It makes that Shiro’s character arc and story is about being the Black Paladin. I hate that this show eventually takes that away from him.

I love that Coran still calls Pidge “Number 5,” reflecting back to his ranking the Paladins by height in early season one. It feels like he’s using it kind of like a term of endearment, and it makes me wish there had been some notable character bonding between the two of them. He could have become a supportive uncle type character for her or an unexpected science bud type character. A cross-generational friendship, which is a dynamic that I don’t think gets explored enough in fiction, could have been really nice to add to the show.

Haggar can make Zarkon magically able to know where in the universe Team Voltron is, and the process to gain that knowledge takes very little time. This feels way overpowered to me. I’m not saying they shouldn’t be able to find Voltron, but just that gaining that knowledge is too easy and convenient here.

The Castle of Lions has an intruder who is able to evade/handle the Paladins easily. It’s Ulaz, and he only stops when Shiro takes him on. Because we viewers have seen Ulaz help Shiro and specifically how he talked about Shiro being a source of hope, it makes it hard to continue to see Allura being so aggressively against the idea that some Galra are against Zarkon, even if it’s understandable where her anger comes from.

“I’m not trying to win your trust,” Ulaz retorts to Allura, “I’m trying to win a war.” Boom.

That some of them, particularly Allura, are acting like if the base isn’t easily observable then it can’t exist is a bit annoying since they’ve already dealt with Galra bases that they initially had trouble observing. At least they do eventually follow through on Shiro’s urging to trust Ulaz and go into the pocket of space to the base.

Did they really have to have Hunk compare the pocket of space to food? Why does this show so often reduce him to nothing more than the fat guy who likes food? Ugh.

Allura doesn’t want to go with Shiro and Ulaz (and anyone else who wants to go) to the base. I can respect that. I don’t in any way respect Lance’s response that he’s going to stay with Allura to “protect the Princess.” Allura herself responds to him saying that with an “ugh.” I’m right there with you, Allura. If this show was going to have Allura and Lance end up together by the end of the show, then the show really needed to do a lot of work of character development on Lance to show he learned this behavior of his is rude and insulting. I never felt the show did much of any such character work with him though.

Slav is namedropped, here as the person responsible for the technology that allows the base to hide in a pocket of space.

Ulaz gives voice to the reasoning behind the Galra who are opposed to Zarkon, saying that the initial idea of expanding the Empire was in thinking it would provide stability, but that a tyrant like Zarkon only seeks power, not stability. This is doing some really nice world-building work for the show. Ulaz proposes the Blade of Marmora work with Team Voltron in coordinated actions. He also lets them know that they would not have been able to escape at the end of season one if a member of the Blade hadn’t acted to bring down the Galra shield. He also offers Pidge some information on other prisoners the Galra have taken to help her in finding her family.

The Robeast shows up. Ulaz gives Shiro information about how to get to the Blade’s headquarters, but he cautions that Shiro needs to figure out how Zarkon has been able to track him to this location before going to the headquarters so he won’t lead Zarkon there.

Once the pocket in space is pierced by the Robeast, the facility generating the pocket is either damaged and loses power, or by the pocket being discovered ceases to be a safe location, so Ulaz jets away while Voltron is fighting. I get that Voltron wants to avoid being blasted by the Robeast, but they spend a lot of time not doing much to attack. The Castle Ship doesn’t do anything to attack either. I don’t get why so much of the battle is them just sort of being there and nothing else. They do eventually try to block the Robeast’s blast with Voltron’s shield and try to use the magic space crystals to blow it up in one action after their big period of no action, but it’s not successful.

Ulaz swoops back in to sacrifice himself by plunging his craft into the blaster/mouth of the Robeast and turning on his spacial rending system to destroy the Robeast. I had thought that system was part of the base, not his ship though. The narrative head-fake of him leaving only to return makes his leaving pointless; it’s not like his return was the result of him undergoing any character development. He might as well have just remained there with them during the fight and then sacrifice himself to win the battle. It makes it seem like the writing was trying to make us think Allura could have been right in not trusting Ulaz, but we’ve seen too much of him being genuine to think that.

Pidge, Hunk, and Lance smile at Ulaz’s death. This isn’t a happy victory, so their smiling annoys me. Keith’s surprised, but at least isn’t smiling. Only Shiro seems to truly respect the loss of Ulaz’s sacrifice. Ulaz was such an interesting character. I really don’t like that he’s killed off in the same episode he’s introduced. He could have added so much more to this show.

I really like that Keith has a tender moment with Shiro after this battle. Characters need quiet moments to reflect on the events of a story so that the narrative can create meaning for those events. Allura’s continued distrust and aggression still annoys me, but, again, I think it’s a reasonable application of character flaws for her to act this way. She’s not being badly written here. I’m glad that Shiro explicitly states that the Blade of Marmora are their allies. The episode ends with Keith reflecting on having seen Ulaz’s blade and then revealing a mark on his own knife/shortsword, setting up the eventual reveal of Keith being half-Galra.

I can’t help but feel let down that the show introduced a character as interesting as Ulaz only to kill him off so soon, while characters that are far less interesting get way too much screen time while adding far less to the show.

[panda-noosh]

i hope requests are still open!!! AND this makes sense... i was hoping to request that the reader is the paladins nurse who takes care of them during their stay at the hospital. (the end of the last season.) and krolia is like "theyd be a promising mate, keith" it doesnt have to be nsfw just like funny and fluffy, please? i just imagine keith going fifty shades of red-especially if the reader is still there--you decide. i just want reader to be their nurse. thank you!

words: 1.4k

notes: here you go! x

+++

     Keith woke, the feel of fingertips pressing against his jaw startling him fully into consciousness.

    He wanted to spring up, to become immediately alert with the hands touching him, but his thoughts were taking much longer to process than usual. His movements were slow, sluggish, a direct contrast to the quick reflexes he was used to.

    He groaned, eyes still closed. His head flicked like a horse trying to swat a fly away, and it was only then did the hands in question flinch away from his face, leaving him to open his eyes on his own.

    He looked up, body immediately relaxing at the sight of you standing over him, a gentle smile pulled on your features - it was the kind of smile that only a nurse could really have, one that was friendly and made even the worst injured people relax into the covers.

     “Well, good morning,” you said cheerfully. “It’s good to see you’re awake.”

    Keith’s heart thundered in his chest. He smiled weakly back at you, trying his hardest to play off his pain as nothing more than a mild inconvenience - of course, there was no point. You had been trained to spot these kind of things, and it was clear that you had easily spotted just how much pain Keith was in.

    You sighed and leaned forward, probing at his jaw again. This time, Keith didn’t flinch away from the feel of your fingertips. Instead, it was almost like he absorbed it, letting it refuel him from the daze he had once been locked in. He stared at you as you worked, resisting the urge to reach out and brush the stray strand of hair falling from your hat back behind your ear.

    “You’re gonna be perfectly fine, I think,” you assured, working away at Keith’s pulse. “Only a bit of a concussion, but that will get cleared up if you just stay in bed.”

    Keith raised a brow. “What makes you think I’ll willingly stay in bed?”

   You frowned, shooting Keith a warning glance that made him chuckle. “I’ll tie you down if I have to, Keith Kogane. No more missions, no more training, no more messing about until you’re fully healed. And that’s final.”

   “Okay, doc.”

    You rolled your eyes, tickling Keith playfully beneath his chin before you pulled away and excused yourself from the room. Keith watched you go, trying his hardest to fight off the happiness that always somehow managed to bubble to the surface whenever you so much as glanced in his direction.

    He liked to think it was just because you were the nurse - you had saved his life on multiple occasions, and it was almost impossible to not feel something friendly towards the person who worked tirelessly just to see you healthy. You were kind, and sweet and funny and you took Keith’s disgruntled attitude and his crazy mood swings in stride, without so much as a complaint.

   You were patient with him, and that warmed his heart.

    He inhaled and settled down into his covers. There was still blood staining his upper arm, which he made a mental note to sponge off whenever you finally let him get out of bed long enough to have a bath. Though he knew he could find a way to twist your arm, there was no doubt in his mind that you were deadly serious about tying him down to keep him in bed.

    “She’s a good one, isn’t she?”

    Keith bit back his cry of shock, eyes snapping up towards the door where the voice had initially come from. Standing in the doorway that you had just exited through was no other than his mother, Krolia. She had her arms folded over her chest, a sly smile on her face that told Keith everything - she knew.

    He shimmied further down in the covers, pulling the white quilt up to his chin in his attempts to hide his bare chest. “I thought you were out training with the Blade?”

    Krolia stepped into the room. “I was, but I told them my son is my first priority. Whenever Y/N told me you were awake, I came straight here.”

   “You mustn’t have been very far away, considering Y/N only left the room a few minutes ago.”

    Krolia smiled warily. “I would never drift too far when you’re in trouble, my boy.”

    Keith flushed, unsure of how to respond to that. It always amazed him how his own mother could speak with such a poetic tongue, and yet Keith could scarcely form a coherent sentence when he was in a state of nervousness. 

    Krolia settled herself down at the side of him, a smile still playing at her features. “Y/N was very worried about you whenever you came in injured, you know.”

    “I’d assume so. We’re friends.”

    Krolia hummed. “But she was specifically worried about you - she immediately sent the others off to the other healers, but she made sure that she was in charge when she was helping you.”

    Keith flushed, trying to keep the deadpan look on his face that would hopefully convince his mother that such a fact should mean nothing. “As I said, we’re friends.”

    “I think she’s good for you, Keith.”

    His eyes shot open, a splutter involuntarily slipping past his lips at the mere suggestion. Of course he had thought of it before, had many opportunities to think of you as something more than a friend, but hearing the suggestion come from somebody else was like a blow to the gut.

    “Mum!” he protested.

    Krolia chuckled. “I’m just keeping an eye out, okay? I worry about you. Whenever I leave, I want somebody here who can keep you in check. I know how you tend to lose yourself to your training more often than not.”

   Keith folded his arms over his chest, looked away in any attempt to hide the blush gliding through his cheeks. “I don’t need anyone to look after me. I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own.”

    “Yes. That’s why you’re currently in a hospital bed.” She poked at his rib cage. Keith scowled and squirmed away. “The only reason you’re still breathing right now is because Y/N was here to help you. The poor girl hasn’t even slept yet.”

   Keith’s eyes popped wide, head snapping around. “Seriously?”

   “Seriously. The other nurses offered to take over her spot, but she refused. She’s been on her feet tending to you for the past thirty hours straight.”

    Keith pursed his lips, a heavy feeling of guilt taking over. He had seen you work tirelessly before; contrary to what others may assume, considering the constant vibrancy of your personality, you often went days without a decent nights sleep. Keith had seen you curled up on a chair, head bent into the crook of your elbow - you would let yourself doze off for only a few minutes at a time before the anxiety for your patients well being woke you up and set you off working again.

    “I told her to stop doing that,” Keith mumbled.

    Krolia shrugged. “As I said, she cares about you. She didn’t want to leave without knowing you’d be alright.”

    “She always tells me off whenever I stay up working.”

    Krolia smiled. “See? You’re already like an old married couple.”

    The thought made Keith flush. He looked to the left, towards the door that you had exited through only moments before. He imagined you parading around the hallways, exhaustion filling your body but you pushing it to the side purely so you could make sure Keith was okay - he silently cursed himself for not coming around sooner, for making you stay by his side for as long as you had done.

    And perhaps that was why he came to the realisation that you meant a lot more to him than just being his nurse. He brushed off other peoples advances, didn’t bother to care whenever other people were running themselves into the ground. In his eyes, work was everything. People who stayed up all night to work were just trying to get things done.

   Until that person was you. Until it was your well-being that was being put in danger.

   He pursed his lips at the realisation, silently hoping that you had gone off not to check on his results, not to gather some more medical equipment, but to get the rest that you both needed and deserved. 

[felagund-fiollaigean]

Smol and Tol

Okay so for Pidge day of Hunk month I wrote a two-part fic exploring their friendship through height differences so... yeah. Under the cut. 

“Why the hell did Coran put them up there?”

“Beats me,” Hunk replied. “I think he did it on purpose.”

“Definitely,” Pidge agreed. “Fuck Zarkon, the real enemy was Coran all along.”

The pair of them stood in the official Paladin dining room, staring forlornly at a small crock on a high, high shelf. A crock which they knew was full of xilpharous tarts, a delicious treat the team had picked up from the space mall on their last visit. They were probably Hunk’s favorite thing he had eaten so far in space. Sweet, crumbly pastry shaped like a hexagonal hamentash surrounding a clear mouse that tasted like the milk at the bottom of a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch once the cereal was all gone. Well, it did and it didn’t. That was one thing about space food: no matter how much it reminded Hunk of anything he ate back home, there was always something fundamentally different about that defied familiarity. He learned a while ago that it was best not to think about it too hard.

But whatever it was they tasted like, those xilpharous tarts were fucking amazing. And Coran had decided it was a good idea to store them on a ten-foot tall shelf, with no evident way of retrieving them.

Hunk constantly appreciated everything Coran did for the team. Whether it was keeping the castle in shape or tending to their injuries or helping them through their emotional troubles or advising them with his endless supply of knowledge, Coran came through for them time after time.

But right now?

Hunk was less than appreciative.

But right now they needed a solution

“I guess we could find a chair?”

Pidge hummed in response. “Could you boost me up?”

Hunk thought about it for a second. “I don’t know how high up I could get you. Unless…”

Pidge cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you think if I lifted you up you could stand on my shoulder?”

“Yeah. You have really wide shoulders, it’ll be easy. How do I get up there?”

Um…

He could tell Pidge was thinking the same thing.

“What if-” he started, but Pidge beat him to it.

“Spread your legs.”

Hunk blinked.

“... No?”

“What? No no no no no, Jesus Christ, stand like this.” She demonstrated, moving her stance so her feet were wider than shoulder-width and bending her knees. “I’ll stand on your thighs and then I can climb on your shoulders from there. Is that good?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He squated down a bit, and after a second he felt Pidge’s small hands pull on his shoulders and the pressure of her feet on his hips. PIdge didn’t weigh much at all, so it wasn’t that uncomfortable. He held his hands out for Pidge to take and she grasped them for balance as she shakily placed one foot after the other on his shoulders.

Slowly, he felt her straighten up.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” came her voice from above him. “Just give me a second…”

One at a time, Hunk felt her release his hands as she gained her balance and he slowly moved his hands so he was gripping her calves to stabilize her.

“Okay, step forward a little?”

He complied, inching forward oh-so carefully until he was close enough to the shelf for Pidge to reach.

Barely a tick went by before he heard a triumphant cheer from above.

“I got 'em!”

“Nice job, Pidge!”

“Sweet! So uh, Hunk?”

“Yeah, Pidge?”

“Um… how am I going to get down?”

Oh.

Shit.

“You fucking bastard!”

Pidge's hands were balled into fists and her voice was shrill.

“You useless piece of shit!” She shoved her chair back and stood abruptly.

The alien her rage was directed at didn't seem bothered in the slightest, however.

“Come now. I run a business, not a charity. Spending my private resources to raid a mining colony on the off-chance your brother might be there is, frankly, ridiculous.”

Pidge was hearing none of it.

“You're a selfish motherfu-”

“And another thing,” he interrupted her, “since your brother has been in Galra captivity for so long, well, you know how those prisoners come out of those places. Damaged. He won't be one bit the same person you knew.”

Hunk winced with sympathy. That was a low blow. Pidge had gone impossibly pale. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but she was in too much of a rage at the moment.

“Why you-” she began, voice trembling with anger, but she was interrupted again by the alien.

“Besides, he's most likely dead already. Accept his loss and move on. You're only wasting my time, I don’t normally entertain over-emotional little girls.”

Hunk's mouth dropped open.

He did not just go there. 

With a wild yell, Pidge launched herself out of her seat and was about to race over to throttle that asshole herself, but Hunk beat her to the punch.

He managed to snag her wrist before she got too far, pulling her into him and keeping her from killing the guy on the spot.

Although, to be fair, he definitely had it coming.

“No, let me go!” She struggled against his hold even as he pulled her closer. Then, “I'll tear your fucking head off!”

The alien only smiled primly, smugness oozing from his expression.

Before Pidge could antagonize him further, Hunk decided he should intervene.

“Thank you for your time, but we had better be getting back now. I apologize on behalf of my fellow Paladin.”

“No! Don't apologize to him, he has it coming to him and you know it, Hunk!”

He sighed deeply. “No, Pidge. Now come on, let's go home.”

Pidge didn't seem to stop fighting him, so he decided it wasn't safe to let go yet. So with no other option, he simply lifted her feet off the floor and carried her out of the meeting.

Pidge stopped wiggling after there was a bit of distance between them and the building, but Hunk still wasn't sure he should let go.

“Can I put you down now, Pidge?”

Her voice was sullen and distant. “Yes.”

“You're not going to keep fighting, are you?”

“No, now put me down.”

He obliged, lowering her feet to the floor.

As soon as she was free, she strode off ahead of him, power-walking as quickly as her shorter legs would allow.

This was nonverbal Pidge-speak for “leave me alone” so Hunk trailed behind slowly, deciding to give her some space.

By the time he got back to the Yellow Lion, she was already inside, leaning against the back of the pilot seat. Her eyes were fixed hard on the floor, but Hunk didn't miss the glisten in her eyes.

He didn't know what to say. God, he never knew what to say. But Pidge didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to be missing her family only to have it rubbed in her face by some asshole alien.

So he spread his arms and stepped forward, encasing her in a hug as she wrapped her arms around his waist and began to cry quietly against his shirt.

“Aww, Pidge, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, that guy was a dick.”

“What if he's right though?” Pidge's voice shouldn't sound so weak. Pidge was courageous and brash and resourceful, it felt so wrong for her to sound so scared.

“Pidge, of course you're gonna find them. You're the smartest person I know and we're all gonna help you. You'll get them back, I know you will.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and squeezed him tighter.

He squeezed back, not too hard to crush her but hard enough to pull her flush against him, completely wrapping her up in his arms. He liked hugging Pidge. He liked the feeling of being able to fully hold her in his arms.

It made him feel like he was keeping her safe, like he could protect her from anything.

He knew it wasn't true, but it still felt nice.

He hoped it felt nice for Pidge too, and as she relaxed against him, he felt more and more certain that it did.

[novarasalas]

Second Look Review: The Last Stand Pts. 1 & 2

I’m having a bit of trouble with this one. Not just this one, but the rest of this season.

I think it would be easier for me if I hadn’t just been making clips from earlier seasons for my videos. Cause damn, this is a huge departure from when we started.

And I casually throw around the phrase “shit gets real”, but, this time, I mean it.

There’s now a sense of realism that this show only barley hinted at in the first episode.

And it’s just the stupidest thing, but the part that’s messing me up the most is that, now, we’re in the military. Of course I knew what the Galaxy Garrison was. It’s got ‘garrison’ right there in the name. But… I’m not a fan of military stuff, which is a bit hypocritical as one of my favorite movies is “Independence Day”. I suppose it’s hard for me to accept that, say...Lance, the goofy, dork of a child, is part of a military institution. He’s a soldier.

I mean, the Paladins have been through war stuff already. But now it’s Earth war stuff; things that are immediately familiar.

I uh...I have some hang ups. If I’m seeming a bit down on all this, it’s a me thing. The show itself is still good. It’s now just suddenly not my thing.

Let’s get down to it.

Part 1

First thing: I love the Holts, ok? Sam is already amazing, and Colleen is a spitfire. You can definitely see where Pidge gets it. If they could adopt me like, right now, that’d be great.

That said, Sam is extremely idealistic. The first thing he wants to do once he gets back to Earth is tell the whole world what happened to him.

Sanda shuts him down:

Sanda: If we told the world there was an imminent attack, we’d set off a global panic.

That reminded me of this, from Men in Black:

And it’s about aliens too. Nice.

She’s not wrong. At least, I don’t think she would be in our modern reality. My city is one sports championship away from spontaneously combusting...again (thank god our teams all suck). I’d really hate to imagine what would happen in this situation in the here and now.

And Sanda wasn’t wrong about sending signals into space, either.

Sanda: Any contact with alien species needs to be run through the appropriate channels.

In the end, she acquiesces, only for them to make contact with Matt, who tells them to stop broadcasting.  Welp.

Sanda’s in an unenviable position. How would you react if someone told you that space magic is real and now there’s a risk of alien invasion, and a knockoff band of Power Rangers was your only hope? She didn’t excuse herself from the meeting to stand out in the hallway and scream, which is what I'd have done. But now she has to consider the safety and well-being of the entirety of the Earth, without causing mass hysteria throughout the populace.

There are no good answers. Not in real life. And this is uncharted territory for everyone involved.

So they build weapons in secret.

I have to say, I like how they’ve designed their new tech. They didn’t try to emulate Altean aesthetics, and instead stuck with a more conventional, modern Earth look.  

War planes, energy cannons, and a particle barrier. They’re working on their own Castleship. They even have “the best pilots to come out of the Galaxy Garrison in the last year.”

But it’s not enough, and Sam forces Sanda’s hand, telling the Earth about everything. As it turns out that Sanda was wrong, and instead of panic, the world comes together to help save themselves.

And in the end, it’s too little too late.

What a bunch of losers.

We’re not given much of a timeframe on these events. At the beginning of the episode, the screen reads “FOUR YEARS EARLIER”. But where in those four years does the invasion happen? If Sanda had allowed for help earlier on, would it have made a difference?

I’m thinking….no. Sendak knows what he’s doing. The Earth was screwed from the start.

Part 2

So now you’ve found yourself being overrun by alien invaders. Yikes.

And these invaders have this to say about you’re ability to fight them.

Planetary surface reports indicate offensive capability, extremely low.

I wonder if they’d say that about us now. We still have enough nukes to blow ourselves up several times over. Does this future Earth still have that?

They’ve never said much about Earth in the Paladins time, so I came up with something on my own.

I think Earth is peaceful. And I think that because the general scope of the Garrison seems to be exploration, not military power. Of course, they’re not slouch in that department either. I can’t quite explain why they’d still have active military, except that ya know...shit happens.

The overall diversity of the place tells me this, too. If this was strictly military, I don’t think they’d be letting foreigners into their ranks. This is me, assuming again, that Lance is from actual Cuba, and Hunk is from actual Samoa.

Diversity, and bases all over the world. Also, the fact of everyone coming together to protect the planet.

And I think it might be because of this:

Veronica: It’s an older setup from World War III.

That’s pretty damn significant. And it’s the last we hear of it.

Did humanity learn it’s lesson after that? Was this war so bad that everyone found their chill in the aftermath? And is it recent enough to have been within living memory for a sizable chunk of the population?

I’m gonna say yes. Look at the chiefs:

At least four of them at the table have medals on their uniforms.

So my theory is this: World War III happened around 40 years prior. The ones with the medals were awarded these medals for their services during that war. The war was so bad that everyone wised up and stopped all that nonsense. They got rid of the worst of their weapons. Now, the people of Earth have come together to explore the universe.

….hey, why not? We might find out more in season 8. Or we might go right back into fantastic space battles.

Also, I’d like to say that Sanda is also a veteran. She’s just...such a hard ass. She didn’t get that way on her own.

She’s also the one in charge.

Aliens are attacking, Admiral! What should we do?

Why, send in the least effective of our attacking fleet, of course!

Sam: You’ve just doomed those men and women.

And one, in particular.

Yeah, Adam was actually doomed as soon as he was introduced as Shiro’s ex. I’m going to talk more about this at the end of the review, because otherwise it’s just going to throw off the flow.

So, the cities of the world are razed.

Again, I’m having a hard time with this. Military movies, disaster movies….I’ve lost my taste for them. I’d rather spend my time on something hopeful. I guess, in the end, it is hopeful, because we as the audience know that Voltron will eventually save the day. But this lead up is brutal.

So, did you survive the invasion? Or do you think you’d have been one of the ‘able bodied citizens’ taken captive?

I know I’m dead. I’m soooooo dead.

Probably not in the initial attack; they always go for the cities first, and I’m at the edge of nowhere. In the end, it wouldn’t even be the Galra that get me.

It’s my chronic illnesses. If I don’t get my meds, I’m done for. So when I see a story about invasion and people getting cut off and isolated, I get a bit...uncomfortable. And that’s a bit part of why I’m having such a hard time with the back half of this season. In my head, all I can think is “oh god, I’m boned. I’m sooo screwed.”

But who knows? Maybe in this future Earth they can cure what’s wrong with me. Or maybe there’s ways to prevent you from getting sick in the first place. Then again, they couldn’t really help Shiro, so...

….

Auuuggggghhhh!!!

This is bringing me down way too much! I gotta find something great…

Ah! The squad!

The aftermath of season 7 online was a mess. I saw way too many people complaining that adding these four was a waste of narrative. Those people have toe fungus and need to get a hair cut, because the MFE pilots are great. I wish we’d gotten to see more of them.

I made a video of her moments a bit back and talked about this there, but I’ll say it again: I love Leifsdottir, and I love that she’s autistic.

Also: Veronica

Rizavi: I like her.

Same, Rizavi. Same.

I wish I hadn’t read the reviews before season 7. I’d have loved to have gone in blind, not knowing that this is that Veronica, Lance’s sister. I’d have never guessed. She’s so professional.

I wonder if she was like her brother when she was a Garrison cadet. We later see a lighter side of her, and right after that, we see Serious Lance again. Yeah...I’m going with that. I bet Lance entered the Garrison, and the instructors all began lamenting “Oh god...not another one.”.

Also, have you noticed the diversity here at the Garrison? There’s a good split of men and women, and all kinds of varying skin tones. It’s great to see.

This episode does end on a high note, or rather, as high as it can, with a message sent to Voltron with the hope that they get there in time.

And Sam Holt gives a speech.

Earth has been conquered.

We are the last holdout in an evil occupation.

And we must face the facts: our supplies are running out.

They have hammered us and hurt the ones we love.

Our backs are completely up against the wall.

And nothing makes us more dangerous.

We only have enough resources for one last stand.

Regardless of the outcome, if we stand united,

we will let them know, the planet Earth, our home,

will not go down without a fight.

…

I still really like that movie, ok?

---

Now, about Adam.

When I went online after watching the season, I was expecting to hear a bit about his fate, but I never expected all...this. And anything I have to say has already been said better by many other people.

I’m firmly of the idea that the showrunners had nothing to apologize for.

See, like I said, Adam was doomed as soon as he was introduced. He was only ever meant to serve as plot device. Take away the approval for him to be Shiro’s ex, and you’re left with Shiro’s close friend who died at the hands of Sendak. It’s meant to make you feel bad; it’s meant to make you feel unsafe. His death tells you “This is war, and anyone can die.”

But then, Shiro was allowed to be gay. And now Adam wasn’t his roommate, he was his boyfriend.  

The narrative needed someone who was close to a main character to show that war is hell, but not too close as to be excessively cruel to the audience.  The narrative also needed someone to show that Shiro was queer. It’s just how things worked out.

This is something we’ll have to get used to as better representation begins to filter in. There will be missteps, and there will be hurt feelings. But it is progress.

There are good conversations to be had about this. But none of those conversations are happening here.

In the end, Adam was a brave man, who once upon a time loved another man. He died a hero.

In summary:

This was brutal. It actually happened: Sendak has done everything short of destroying the whole of the Earth. I had really, really been hoping that the fight would stay in space.

The episodes were well made, with a great bit of story to be told. But my own issues got in the way of me liking them. Ah, well...it happens.

...

The Garrison is all 70s aesthetic. I don’t like 70s aesthetics...

Next up: The boys are back in town.