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dreams-of-kalopsia · 5 years ago

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Fictober Prompt 17

“There is just something about them.”

Voltron fanfiction (Plance)

No warnings apply.

Read it on AO3.

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Happy April Fool’s Day! There’s no joke, though. I’m just a real fool for this show and this pairing. XD

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Part 1 (Pidge): Timing

Part 2 (Lance): Intuition

Part 3 (Colleen): Grounded

Part 4 (Hunk): Change

Part 5: Them

(Nadia)

The rumors are true: Commander Holt’s daughter is a genius.

She can beat any Earth videogame. Can store galaxies’ worth of tech info in her brain. Can hack into anything that runs on codes. Can master anything remotely mathematical or scientific. Can head and complete the repairs of all MFE units, come up with upgrades, and finish installing them in a month. Can pilot an interdimensional, sentient, robotic Lion. Can fight and beat almost anyone bigger than her—which, with her height, is a lot of people.

But she can’t fire a gun to save her life.

Nadia gapes at said genius. “What.”

“You heard me.”

“That’s quite hard to believe,” James chimes in. “You’ve been fighting in a war for years.”

Pidge shrugs as she taps on her tablet to run a systems check on Ryan’s unit. “I have my brain, my bayard, and Green. They’ve kept me alive so far.”

“I’ve seen your bayard. It’s just a short blade with a grapple and static discharge.”

“Works just fine for me. For the most part.”

“But long-range weapons give offensive power while providing distance and cover,” Ryan argues, to the team’s agreement.

“Short-range weapons and grapples require contact. Larger enemies will overpower you,” Ina says. “Pistol-sized blasters would work best for you; you should try it.”

An idea sparks to life in Nadia’s brain. She looks at Ina. Then at Pidge. Then at the others. Then she grins. “Let’s do it. With us as your teachers, you’ll be wielding a gun in under a week.”

Pidge sends back a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “Wanna bet?”

* * *

Nadia, of course, wins. Because as she said, Commander Holt’s daughter, Katie Holt, is a genius.

Five days of putting up with James and Ryan’s great demos but useless explanations, absorbing Ina’s breakdown of the principles of aiming and shooting, and following Nadia’s strict instructions on posture and aim, and Pidge is at the Garrison’s shooting range, blasting target after target at the final stage of her expert-level shooting course.

Watching from a safe distance behind Pidge, Nadia puffs out her chest. She turns to her team. “What did I tell you guys?”

“She’ll be wielding a gun in under a week,” Ina supplies.

“She’s a genius,” Ryan answers next.

James releases a long sigh before replying, “This will be fun.”

Nadia nods smugly to each response. “And I was right.” She directs her attention back to Pidge, who’s just about to finish the stage.

“Really makes me wonder why she never learned,” James comments after a while. “Two of her teammates use long-range weapons.”

“Ask one of them yourself.”

At Ryan’s words, they all turn towards the entrance. Lance has just entered and is approaching them with a friendly smile.

Nadia hasn’t hung out with him as much as she has with Pidge or Hunk, but she’s heard a lot about him. Seems like a nice, fun guy. And since those two like him so much, then by transitivity, she likes him, too.

She smiles when he reaches them. “Lance! What’s up?”

“Hey, guys,” he greets. “Have any of you seen Pidge? Shiro sent me to get her.”

“Pidge? Oh, you mean…” She jerks a thumb behind her and raises her voice. “…the badass over there firing a gun like a pro?”

Pidge curses. Nadia turns just in time to see her miss a quickly moving target. “Nadia! Don’t distract me!” she shouts as she fixes her aim.

Nadia laughs, stepping a bit to the left to give Lance a better view. He looks dazed watching Pidge hit every target with ease. Even if her back is towards them, her confidence is obvious in her relaxed posture and steady aim.

Nadia wasn’t lying when she said Pidge is a pro. She can’t help puffing out her chest again. She’s so proud of her team’s work and her friend’s newly acquired skill.

“She can…” Lance starts but doesn’t finish. More like forgets to finish. He’s so enthralled by the sight before him, he probably hasn’t realized he spoke up.

“Yep,” she answers anyway, to which Ina adds, “Four point two enemies per minute. Eighty-two percent accuracy. Sixty-eight percent headshots, twenty-four percent torso, six percent arms, two percent legs.”

“Yeah. What Ina said.”

“She learned from us in five days,” James says, his arms crossed. “And only during our free time. I’m sure she would have learned faster from you Paladins.” His tone is casual, but his words have a critical undertone to them.

Nadia quirks a brow and trades a glance with Ina and Ryan.

Is he… throwing shade at Lance?

Lance seems to think so, too, because he tears his eyes from Pidge to shoot James a look that’s borderline hostile. But before he can speak, James shrugs cockily at him and walks over to Pidge, leaving silence in his wake.

What is up with him?

And please, Ina, do not comment on it.

A few feet before them, James proceeds to give Pidge pointers now that she’s done with her course.

And the silence turns awkward.

It starts to weigh on Nadia, so she initiates a conversation with Lance. “So, Lance. You said Shiro needs Pidge?”

“Yeah. He needs help decoding an encrypted message or some…thing…” he trails off, his brows furrowing and eyes narrowing in a glare.

She follows the direction of his gaze, finding Pidge at the end. James is standing close beside her with one hand on her shoulder and another on her wrist as he corrects her posture, and she’s nodding attentively to whatever he’s saying.

Nadia narrows her eyes when they return to Lance. She can tell that something’s happening, but she can’t pinpoint what.

“He’s at the bridge with Sam and Officer Curtis,” he continues as if he hasn’t suddenly stopped talking for two whole minutes. He gives them a stiff smile. “Please tell her that after she’s done.” And then he turns to leave.

At the exact moment Pidge turns towards him. Her excited grin instantly falls into a disappointed frown when she finds him walking out the door.

Oh my gosh. Did I really just see that?

It’s such a dramatic moment that Nadia nearly shivers from the thrill.

“That was awkward,” Ina belatedly states.

Nadia gives her a wry smile. “I’m surprised you’re only pointing it out now.”

“It wasn’t a favorable option a while ago.”

“What did Lance want?” Pidge asks, walking towards them, her eyes still trained on the door.

“To deliver a message,” Ryan answers unhelpfully.

Seriously? Nadia side-eyes him before explaining, “You’re needed at the bridge.”

“Oh,” she says despondently. “I’m guessing Shiro, Dad, and Officer Curtis need me?”

“Yep.”

Pidge sighs. “Gotta go, then.” She gives them a thankful smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you guys so much for teaching me. I can’t believe you really did it in less than a week.”

“No need to thank us,” James says, smiling back. “It was a necessary skill.”

“You’re welcome anyway,” Nadia replies with a grin.

“Maybe you can turn your weapon into a gun next time,” Ryan adds.

“You seem sad.”

All heads snap towards Ina in varying degrees of horrified, and she doesn’t even notice.

“O-Oh, um…” Pidge stutters, “I’m just uh… sad. That I… have to leave now.”

“You can continue practicing tomorrow. Everyone’s free times overlap for two hours in the afternoon.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With a short wave, she takes her leave.

Nadia stares intently at Pidge’s retreating back.

Yes, Katie Holt is a genius. Yes, she can do a lot of cool things, including mastering her shooting skills in five days.

But she can’t hide her emotions to save her life.

It goes without saying that no one—not even Ina—is buying her lie. So why do it? She’s obviously upset because of Lance. But why? Speaking of Lance, why was he glaring earlier? Was he glaring at James? At Pidge?

“Rizavi.” James’ voice pulls her away from her thoughts. “You’re plotting something.”

“Not yet,” Nadia replies. “But didn’t you see how those two acted? There’s just something about them.” She looks at each of her teammates. “I’m going to find out what.”

____

(James)

People, in general, are easy to read.

From their expressions, words, actions… there’s always some information about the person to be gleaned.

James supposes that’s what makes him work well as a leader. He can understand the motive behind Ryan’s actions, follow the logic in Ina’s words, tell that Nadia is plotting something when her eyes start to glint. After years together as a team, he can accurately anticipate the actions they’ll take on certain scenarios.

And right now, he knows exactly what Nadia is doing.

“Welcome to the training hall,” she tells Pidge and Lance with a sweeping flourish of her hands. “Time for holographic campaign simulations, Pidge.”

“What am I doing here again?” Lance asks then immediately backtracks, “Not to say I’m not okay with it or anything.”

“We’re short one person. Campaigns require working in pairs.” She sends James a pointed look. “Right?”

Wrong, but for the sake of her plot, he answers a “Yeah.”

She grins and nods, taking out three white strings of different lengths from her pocket. She aligns the ends and covers the middle parts with her palms. “Okay, now pick one end and tug on it.”

Ina and Ryan glance at him, their question clear: ‘Are you really letting her do this?’

James replies with an amused smile and a shrug. ‘Why not?’ He pinches one end and pulls. If he’s seen through Nadia’s plan correctly, the one who tugs on the other end should be…

Pidge smiles up at him. “Looks like we’re a team.”

He suppresses a smirk. “Looking forward to it.”

His spine suddenly tingles with the sensation of being watched, and he catches the tail-end of Lance’s glare before he turns away to prepare with Nadia. The smug amusement gets the better of James. He allows himself to smirk.

Being able to read people isn’t limited to his team, of course. How else will he predict Hunk and Keith’s infiltration plan if not for the knowledge that Hunk is terrified for his family and Keith is the reckless, ride-or-die type of guy who would go with his friend? How else will he find out that Curtis has a crush on Captain Shirogane if he hasn’t noticed Curtis’ lingering looks on the Captain? How else will he realize that Pidge has feelings for Lance if he hasn’t seen her face glow when he tells her that Lance is watching her and then fall when she finds him leaving, his back turned towards her? How else will he know that Lance likes her back if not for Lance’s obviously jealous glares at him?

How else will he establish that they don’t know their feelings are mutual if not for the stolen, pining glances every so often?

Nadia chooses a campaign that James holds the best record for. No doubt she intends to gauge Lance’s reaction when they lose to James and Pidge. She’s on the right track; Lance’s jealousy will be aggravated if he thinks that James and Pidge’s teamwork is the sole reason for their sure win, and his feelings will become more apparent.

James prepares his blaster, showily helps Pidge prepare hers, then leads her to their starting point.

“We’re ready, Rizavi, Lance.”

He hopes Nadia catches on soon. Maybe then she’ll be more perceptive of the subtler cues around her. Like his advances that she always unintentionally deflects without even knowing.

____

(Ryan)

Ryan is an observer of life, a spectator of the world through and through. If he were to compare himself to something, he’d be a sponge that absorbs everything and gives nothing away unless pressed.

But after bearing witness to the same unchanging event so many times, he’s just about ready to talk. After all, even sponges can only absorb so much before the excess spills out.

“Nooo, I’m too late!”

His eyes dart towards the newcomer.

Hunk has stopped by the training hall, hands holding a tray with two glasses of probably milkshake, gaze fixed on the competing pairs in the middle of a campaign simulation, James and Nadia versus Pidge and Lance. “I wanted them to taste-test…” He casts his eyes down in a slight pout. After a few moments, he looks at Ryan and Ina with hopeful eyes. “Hey, maybe you guys can do it? Tell me what you think. And be honest; I promise not to get offended.” He raises the tray towards them.

They take it without question.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

It’s no secret that Hunk is a genius chef who loves cooking and knows his yeast, much like Ryan. Ryan can never doubt anyone who knows their yeast.

True enough, the milkshake tastes divine, and he says so, Ina’s agreement following close.

Hunk chuckles pleasantly. “That’s great. I was experimenting with the proportion of the ingredients to accommodate this alien vanilla that adds a distinct tang.”

The buzzer goes off to mark the end of the campaign. The three of them redirect their attention to the simulation zone. Nadia, James, Lance, and Pidge huddle together before the performance analyzer, waiting for the results.

Despite not seeing the results the moment they appear, it’s easy for Ryan to see who won.

Rather, it’s easy to hear who won.

“Yeah!!” Pidge and Lance cry out, pumping their fists in victory.

“We did it, Pidge!” Lance says. Beaming, Pidge turns to him and raises her arms for what seems to be a hug. He drops his gun and holds out his hands towards her waist. Then they both freeze mid-action and abruptly turn away from each other, Lance scratching the back of his neck before picking up his gun.

Irk bubbles in Ryan’s chest. He’s honestly tired of watching them do this every single time they win.

“They’re so… awkward with each other,” he comments as he returns his glass.

“Ugh. Tell me about it,” Hunk whines. “Imagine seeing them, like, every day.”

Ryan releases a fed-up, sympathetic grunt.

God forbid.

____

(Ina)

Ina’s brain isn’t wired to read social cues.

What it is wired for are observation and analysis, and she depends on her rapid processing skills to assess the situation, approximate the meaning of the social cues from previous experience, and act accordingly. Her approximations don’t always reach the acceptable level of correctness, which leads to inappropriate responses, but her team has helped her greatly with that. By observing Ryan’s body language, watching Nadia’s ever-changing expressions, and listening to James’ simplified explanations, Ina’s approximations and understanding of human behavior have increased in accuracy by sixty-seven percent.

She’s always thought that her current level of comprehension is sufficient to keep up with most situations.

Lance’s and Pidge’s recent changes in behavior, however, are making her think otherwise.

They behave as they normally do outside each other’s presence. They work in perfect sync when working together as Paladins or partners during campaign simulations. But once their tasks are done, they oscillate between acting like best friends and barely being able to make eye contact. The behavioral changes have no apparent trend or pattern that she can follow in order to act properly or say anything other than “The atmosphere is very tense and awkward.” when they behave aberrantly.

Ina has never encountered their confusing behavior before; it mildly frustrates her that she doesn’t have enough information for a proper analysis.

“What are you guys?” she finally blurts out one day as the three of them watch James and Hunk compete against Nadia and Ryan on the simulator.

Pidge and Lance share a look that she’s learned indicates uncertainty.

“We’re…” Lance begins to say.

“We’re uh…” Pidge begins at the same time.

“Friends?” “Humans?”

They look at each other again, this time with mirroring frowns.

He puts both hands on his hips. “Really, Pidge? Humans?”

Pidge crosses her arms and glares up at him. “Ina asked what we are! Obviously, we’re humans!”

“Of course we’re humans! She’s obviously asking how we’re related to each other!”

It occurs to Ina that they’ve left her out of the conversation, as if they’ve forgotten that she’s there with them. She takes the opportunity to study their interaction to derive her own conclusion.

“But we’re not related to each other! You’re from Cuba and I’m part-Italian!”

“Argh! Not that kind of related!”

“Can you please be a bit more specific?!”

“She’s asking what our relationship is!”

Ina, who’s been quietly following their quick back-and-forth with her eyes, almost gets a whiplash when Pidge doesn’t retort. Upon further observation, she’s gone completely still as well.

“We don’t have a relationship, Lance.” Pidge’s voice is devoid of the heat and energy of her previous counterarguments.

Ina notices Lance’s foot twitch—to step towards Pidge, she deduces—but it ends up staying in place. “We’re friends… right?” he returns, tone quiet and somewhat… pleading?

She tilts her head in confusion.

Pidge bows her head, her bangs and glasses obscuring her face. “Friends. Right.” With her head hung low, she misses the way Lance momentarily winces at her words.

For what reason, Ina can’t figure out.

After a deep inspiration, Pidge turns to her, smiling but also not really smiling. “Either way, does that answer your question, Ina?”

Ina’s eyes dart from Pidge to Lance back to Pidge again as her mind reaches a conclusion.

“Yeah. Partly.”

These two are complicated.

____

(Curtis)

“Pidge!” Cadet—no, Paladin Lance bellows as he barges into the Green Lion’s hangar. The door hisses angrily closed behind him—if that’s even possible.

Curtis knows why he’s here. Intel of Paladin Pidge’s secret mission has been leaked to him somehow. This only proves that the IGF-Atlas crew isn’t as tight as Captain Shirogane and Commander Holt are hoping, and all the more the necessity for all the moles to be baited and weeded out before launching.

Seeing the shocked, panicked expression on Paladin Pidge’s face, Curtis decides to intercept Paladin Lance’s approach.

“Paladin Pidge is busy,” he explains, not budging when the Blue Paladin tries to push past him.

“Isn’t she always? Aren’t we all?” Paladin Lance all but growls. “Maybe since she’s spending too much time on secret missions behind everyone’s backs, she’d make a little time to explain why she’s doing everything without her Team.” Not once does his glare leave Paladin Pidge, who stands frozen behind Curtis.

Curtis tries to reason again: “You have to understand—”

“I won’t understand without a proper explanation.”

“Now is not—” A small hand rests on his arm to stop him. He looks back at Paladin Pidge in surprise.

“It’s fine, Officer. Can you give us a dobosh—I mean, a minute?” She gives him a slight smile that disappears as her gaze shifts to the Paladin he’s still restraining.

“Are you sure?” he asks, regarding her with concern. “You only have a ten-minute allowance, and you should have taken off three minutes a—”

“I’m still at a safe margin,” she assures. “I promise I won’t take long.”

Curtis glances at the still-enraged Paladin Lance. He doubts that very much. Nonetheless, he sighs and capitulates, resolving to call the Captain should an argument arise and interfere with the mission. “Okay,” he says, retreating to a distance that somewhat allows privacy but also alerts him of any brewing conflict.

It’s not that he questions the two’s friendship; it’s just that the air around them is so charged that he’s not sure he can intervene at any point anymore. The tension has only increased after he’s given them some room to talk.

Maybe it’s better to summon the Captain now.

Curtis murmurs into his communicator, “Captain, there’s potential trouble in the Green Lion’s hangar.”

A reply crackles softly from the headpiece. “On my way.”

“I don’t have time to explain anything other than I’m on a secret mission,” Paladin Pidge says, drawing his attention back to the pair. “The fact that you know about it means I’m not done with it yet.”

“What’s the mission?”

“Classified. It’s called secret for a reason, Lance.”

“Where are you going?”

“Classified.”

“Who’s your support?”

“Green.”

“Green?! Pidge, have you been going off alone?!”

“Yeah. So?” she answers defiantly, but her hand moves to grip her forearm in a defensive gesture as Paladin Lance’s anger mounts.

“What do you mean ‘so’?! Why is no one backing you up?!”

The quiet hiss of the hangar doors heralds the Captain’s arrival. In seconds, Captain Shirogane has reached his side and is watching the argument with worried eyes. “How many minutes until Pidge’s time is up?”

He checks his timer. “Seven.”

Captain Shirogane sighs. “Let’s give them five. I have a feeling they need this talk.”

Curtis knits his brows and looks at his Captain. “Not to be insubordinate, sir, but are you sure?”

“No. But let’s hope I’m right.”

“…the more people who know, the more the mission is compromised. Besides, Green and I specialize at stealth—”

“You didn’t think to ask anyone on the Team—”

“Everyone’s busy or can’t keep a secret. Look, I don’t have time—”

“You could’ve asked me for support, Pidge! I’m not as busy and I can—”

“Can what? I can read your thoughts on your face and body language, Lance! You can’t keep something top secret for so long without arousing suspicion! Why are you here, anyway?! If there’s anyone who needs your support, it’s Allura, so go support her instead of wasting my time!!” Paladin Pidge erupts, her words reverberating harshly around the hangar.

Heavy silence falls soon after.

Curtis catches the flash of hurt on Paladin Lance’s face before he turns his head away, the tension in his body evident through the clenched fists at his sides. Curtis barely hears the next words, subdued as they are: “Don’t tell me what to do, Pidge.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

Paladin Pidge spins on her heel then and walks briskly towards her Lion. “I’m ready to go, Officer. Hey, Shiro,” she manages to murmur as she passes them.

Behind her, Paladin Lance has yet to lift his head or move.

Curtis looks worriedly at his Captain, unsure if this is the outcome they were supposed to hope for. Troubled eyes meet his.

The launch sequence begins its countdown.

When it reaches zero, Curtis realizes that he may have just witnessed the end of a friendship.

#fictober19 #writings #it's april #i know #i'm sorry #TTnTT #voltron #plance

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chibi-pix · 5 years ago

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Ghost Tales in Space

Well, I actually wrote something in terms of Voltron: Legendary Defender fanfics. Thankfully it’s not multi-chapter, those never seem to get finished when I attempt to write them. And hopefully I did okay. It wasn’t originally written because it’s October, but rather because it came to my mind when trying to sleep the previous night.

It’s canon-divergent, keeping Ulaz, Thace, Antok, and Regris all alive. Thank you very much, we need to keep our lovely Galra safe.

Now, if things work out, it should be in the “keep reading” thing below. Hopefully I did okay.

----------------------------------------

Kolivan walked into the common room, watching the paladins, one blade, and a rebel set up cushions and what looked like a technological imitation of a campfire. Hunk had gathered snacks while Keith and Matt assisted Lance in setting up what looked like a mock-shelter over the sunken pit, the couches retracted to give more room to sit on the cushions around the mock-fire. Shiro was setting up the cushions, making the floor comfortable. Pidge was working with the mock-fire, getting it to properly flicker with life-like flames of oranges, yellows, and reds. He was curious as to what the others were up to.

Then Hunk spoke up.

“I mean, do we really need to tell ghost stories?” Hunk inquired, finishing up with the snacks and helping Shiro with the cushions.

“Oh, good heavens, no.” Pidge assured. “Any scary story will do.”

“That doesn’t help, Pidge!” Hunk whined.

“Well, you don’t have to tell any; if you’d like, you can even opt out of listening.” Matt reminded.

“Well… we’re trying to gather everyone around...” Hunk mumbled.

“Maybe have Hunk be our scare-detector?” Keith suggested.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Lance questioned.

“Well, Hunk’s the most afraid, that’s no question.” Keith stated. “And that’s not a bad thing, Hunk, don’t pout.” Hunk nodded. “With that being said, if you do decide to listen in, you can help us gauge who has the scariest story.”

“Yeah, because like hell Pidge could tell anyone how scary their story is.” Matt snickered, Pidge getting that cheeky gremlin grin, the expression Kolivan knew never to trust. Hell, he was always on guard around her, she was too sneaky and calculating

“You’re telling ghost tales?” Kolivan asked. Most of the others were startled, having not noticed the blade leader. Most of the group jumped, Hunk squealed, and Pidge? Well, she simply grinned.

“Hey, Kolivan!” Pidge greeted. “Yeah! We’re getting things set up. We should be ready in about thirty doboshes or less. You and the blades gonna join? The invite is extended to you.”

“Are we permitted to tell tales as well?” Kolivan inquired.

“Hell yeah!” Pidge cheered. “I bet you guys have some good ones!”

“Aw man...” Hunk whined, Shiro chuckling a bit as he sympathetically patted his fellow paladin’s shoulder.

Pidge snickered, definitely not as sympathetic as the black paladin. “I think hearing what you guys can tell is good. It’d be...” The light dimmed in the room, her mock-fire flickering to life. “Culturally enriching.”

“Um… guys...” Hunk scooted away from Pidge.

“Holy crow… that’s...” Lance was on edge. He let out an audible sound of relief when the lights returned to normal.

“Sorry about that, guys.” came Coran’s voice over the comm system. “I was trying to get the lighting settings changed for the common for Pidge’s spook party, didn’t mean to turn off the lights.”

“It’s fine, Coran, just… unnerving timing.” Shiro called back. He looked to Pidge. “That was just… timing, right? Not you… doing something?”

“Me? Do something?” Pidge asked, looking almost appalled. The way she played it, though, no one knew what to think of her except for Kolivan. Never. Trust. The. Gremlin. She then perked up when another blade, this one being a tailed male named Regris, entered the common. “Hey, Regris!” she greeted happily. Since they met, the two hit it off well, working on tech and decoding intel together. Another thing Kolivan knew, always be on guard if they were left alone for too long and things were too quiet.

“Wow, it’s coming along well.” Regris complimented. “I finished the projector like you requested. But… why you specified certain star charts...”

“They’re to look like constellations seen from parts of our planet.” Pidge explained, smiling happily. She left her completed mock-campfire and went to help Regris set up the projector.

“Ah, Kolivan, are you planning on joining the telling of stories?” Regris inquired, finally paying attention to his leader and commander.

“I plan on it.” Kolivan nodded. “Do the others know?”

“I believe the princess is seeing to it.” Regris nodded.

“Man, this is going to be so fun.” Matt chuckled.

“Heh, not like you can come up with a good story.” Shiro teased. “I’ve listened to your stories in those months it took us to get to Kerberos...”

“Hey, I never said I was going to tell a story.” Matt smirked. “But I know a certain Holt who’s got some tales to tell.”

“Including that one?” Pidge asked.

“Pull out all the stops, Pidge.” Matt grinned.

“They’re bluffing, right?” Keith asked.

“Siblings getting suspicious?” Lance pondered. “Totally bluffing.”

“No offense, but I don’t think tech lover tales are going to scare any of us.” Shiro declared, rather certain that the siblings were bluffing.

While the others doubted Pidge and Matt with a story, Kolivan knew better. He knew he should never trust the gremlin.

-+-+-+-

“Ladies, gentlemen, and those in between.” Pidge greeted those sitting around her mock fire. It was quite a setting and the green paladin was looking forward to listening to the various stories others had to tell. Even better, Allura was excited to sit through and listen to the story, a few of the blades themselves were even eager to listen. “I welcome you to the telling of stories. Ghosts. Monsters. Superstitions. Urban legends. Personal… experiences.” The way the smallest paladin said that was eerie. “All alike, we have stories to tell. Here and now is where we tell them. While this is no true competition, but, if Hunk would listen and determine the fight level?”

“I can try.” Hunk nodded.

“Grazie.” Pidge nodded. “Now, be patient, we have… all night.” The lights dimmed as she spoke it, a remote in her hand to let her do that this time. When the lights dimmed, her artificial stars showed up on the covering Keith, Lance, and Matt put up and her fire flickered to life. “So we have time for every person who wishes to tell a story to regale their tale.” She offered a grin, one no one should or could ever trust. “So, who of our lovely guests shall tell the first story?”

“If possible, I’d like to be the one.” Coran spoke up. Pidge nodded and sat down, going to sit between Regris’ legs as he put his tail around her. “It’s quite a true tale, in fact. One in my younger days… when the Castle of Lions had just been finished being built by my grandfather.”

Coran was but a youth, perhaps no older than Keith was. He had walked around the castle, checking out his grandfather’s work. Pop-Pop Wimbleton was truly a master of the craft, able to build such a beauty. And Coran loved walking around the many halls, marveling at the genius’ work. As he walked, though, he felt a chill down his spine. He felt like he was being watched.

Every time Coran turned around, no one was there. Every time he looked around a corner, thinking someone was there, no one was. This kept up for many vargas and worried the young man. Then eventually he turned around, catching an apparition just before it disappeared.

“Turned out, though, it was just the holographic projectors malfunctioning. Well, the castle was still in it’s infancy and Pop-Pop Wimbleton had been working out the kinks.” Coran mused, messing with his mustache.

“Coran… that was an eerie story and all, I’d have been terrified had I been you, but I think you miss the purpose of a scary story.” Hunk admitted.

“Part of a scary story is to not rationalize what happened, leave the mystery and suspense to unnerve your audience.” Pidge sighed. “But good try.”

“Oh, really? Well, perhaps next time we do this I can do better.” Coran stated with a nod.

“If you have a different story to tell next time, sure thing!” Pidge nodded. “Okay, who would be next? Who thinks they can give us a few scares?”

“Perhaps, if no one minds, I can tell a story.” Kolivan poke up. He dared to smirk a bit when some of his blades mumbled, the group sure that he would definitely get the others scared. “I’ve seen many planets… many battlefields in my time.” Kolivan admitted. “But one in particular...”

A Galran soldier wandering the dead lands of an abandoned planetoid. Long ago, after Zarkon’s beginning efforts of his tyranny, many planets had been attacked. Many species across the galaxies had been enslaved… or eradicated. In the loss of lives of those species, the Galra had lost their own as well.

The soldier in question was looking over an old battlefield, remembering the grief felt once before. Families torn apart. Land blown apart. And the fall of a grand general, one of the finest. The nameless warrior. No one anymore who they fought for. For Zarkon? For freedom? Only that they had fought many battles before their time came to an end, ended by their own kind. Friendly fire? Someone attacking a traitor? A traitor attacking town own? The tales had no more answers to that.

The soldier stood in the emptiness of the old battlefield. He looked out across the vastness of the land. His focus changed and he found himself staring into a set of eyes. He staggered back for he knew those eyes had not been there before. Weathered from war. Weathered from violence. Weathered from the years.

The fallen general had died long before, but their eyes were always remembered. Their eyes were seen on many battlefields. And the soldier knew those eyes meant impending doom. The soldier knew to never confront those eyes. It was always best to turn round and leave.

“But what that soldier did not know was that day was different. Those eyes followed him through to his next battle. Then, during a battle, he saw those eyes again. They were the last thing he had seen.” Kolivan said, ending his tale.

Hunk was unnerved and hiding behind Shiro. Unsurprisingly, Kolivan’s story spooked him. Even Lance was on edge. “Dude, that’s like… old European spooks.” Lance stated, holding onto Keith’s arm, the former paladin unaffected.

“Ooh, classic cursed spirit tale, love it!” Pidge cooed, looking eager.

“You would.” Matt chuckled.

“That didn’t bother you?” Regris inquired.

“Are you kidding? Not at all!” Pidge looked happy before grabbing one of the snacks brought in. “Okay, who’s next?”

“Perhaps I could go next.” Shiro commented.

“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Keith declared, sounding hopeful.

Shiro smiled as he looked to Pidge. The gremlin nodded and her mock-fire dimmed more and Shiro’s arm gave an ominous purple glow, even more eerie compared to that of the usual purple glow in the Galran ships and bases. “Am I beautiful?” he asked, in an eerie tone. “A line spoken to many… and sometimes the last.”

Many people had walked through the streets of many cities in Shiro’s home country of Japan. As they would, some would see this woman walking around, average at first glance. Her hair down, a surgical mask over her mouth; she seemed to protect others from a cold she may have had… or she was wary of catching a cold from another.

People would see her and she would approach them. “Am I beautiful?” she would ask. Innocent. Sweet. A sign of insecurity. Perhaps an old lover telling her that she was not.

“Of course you are.” many would respond. “You’ve very beautiful.”

A smile behind her mask, her eyes lit up. Her dark eyes aglow. Then the mask would be removed. An ugly, jagged line from ear to ear. Her mouth wide, gaping. Too much smile for too little of a face. “Am I still beautiful?”

A scream. A call of distress. It is the last strangers hear before they investigate, finding the fallen victims in the alleys they ventured into… their mouths slit open.

“Never scream when you face Kuchisake-onna.” Shiro ended the tale, his arm dimming and Pidge’s mock-fire coming back to life. “To survive, do not scream, but tell her she is still beautiful. That will please or confuse her, giving you time to escape.”

“Dude!” Hunk whined, now hiding behind Kolivan. “That’s just… dude!”

“Whoa! Is that… a real story?” Keith asked, looking a little startled, but not as scared as Hunk or Lance.

“It would account for mysterious deaths.” Pidge snickered.

“Someone find duct tape or something… Pidge liking these stories is scary...” Lance mumbled.

“Well done, Shiro, I’d say yours had surpassed Kolivan’s tale.” Pidge applauded. “Now then, who else has a tale to tell?”

“Okay, you know what, I should just tell my story before I get too… wound up to tell it later.” Lance responded, refusing to admit he was afraid. “It was a story told by my mom. La dama de blanco.”

La dama de blanco was supposed to get married. She was excited when the met the man of her dreams. He was everything she wanted. Smart. Funny. Charming. Hard working. And, as a bonus, he was very handsome. El apuesto extanjero. He came from afar, a fine family and he had fallen in love in the land of beauty and sun. The family of the bride-to-be adored him and felt he was perfect for her. She would get ahead in life with their marriage.

Before they wed, the foreigner went up to the waterfalls with his bride-to-be. It was where they first met, where he first laid eyes upon her. He went up to shout his love for her to the world. He wanted to sing out her name with her on the top of those waterfalls before the wedding.

The bride-to-be loved this. She smiled and hummed to her lover’s voice. But then there was a gust of wind and her veil blew off. Panicked, she reached for it. And slipped.

“As la dama de blanco fell, she saw her lover reaching for her… and behind him another woman in white, the sky visible behind her sheer figure.” Lance told his tale.

“Wait… was it the figure she saw who pushed her? Or the lover?” Hunk asked, looking terrified.

“No one knows. The stories only tell of how her lover reported that she slipped when she reached for her veil.” Lance said. “So, how was that, Pidge?”

Pidge yawned. “Classic, nice, but not scary.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“She doesn’t budge, does she?” Ulaz asked.

“Maybe it is time for your story?” Thace inquired.

“Oh, Ulaz has one?” Pidge perked up, like the eager gremlin she was.

“You know what, fine, let’s get this story started.” Hunk said.

“You’re not afraid anymore?” Allura inquired, looking like she was enjoying the sensation of being frightened.

“I’m so terrified right now, I don’t know how to be scared.” Hunk admitted. He then felt Antok sit down behind him, pulling him over a bit.

“They’re just stories, they won’t get you.” Antok assured gently, running his fingers through Hunk’s hair in a reassuring way.

“Yeah… unless Pidge decides to pull out all the stops for the ultimate scare like she did for Halloween at the Garrison with Risavi’s help.” Hunk whined.

“Oh mean, I remember that.” Lance said. “Scared even Iverson!”

Pidge cackled and waved it off. “Anyway, Ulaz, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I had been a medical officer for many deca-phoebs, working for the Blade of Marmora a long time… and blending in to keep my eye on the empire.” Ulaz started to say.

Ulaz was hard at work, tending to patients. It was grueling work at times and not exactly rewarding. He had been undercover for a fair amount of deca-phoebs, no one none the wiser as to who he was. With his position, he had to treat the empire’s soldiers, this helped in keeping people ignorant of who he truly was. What his cause was.

He was working with one patient in particular, a soldier who had been badly injured in a fight with rebels. They got the best of her, but she never pulled back. Victory. Or death. And to honour her strength and bravery, Zarkon had promoted her to commander. If she died from her wounds, she would die with great honour. If she survived, she would be given command of her own fleet.

Ulaz worked to try to stabilize his patient. She would need prosthetic limbs if she survived. If.

As he worked, a shadow was caught in his peripheral vision. A druid. It had to be.

“I’m busy with my work.” Ulaz grumbled. He had worked too many quintants without proper rest to want to deal with the cloaked bastards. “Unless you’re here to help my patient survive, get your ass out of my...” He turned. No one. He looked around. No one. “Infirmary?” He scowled and stepped outside the room, knowing his patient would be fine without him for a few doboshes; all he really had to do was keep an eye on the monitors alerting him to her health.

“You there,” Ulaz snapped at a guard who stood outside the room, “has anyone entered this room?”

“Um, sir?” the soldier, young and hopeful for his future on Zarkon’s ship, questioned, confusion crossing the lower half of his face, the upper covered by his helmet.

“Are you deaf?” Ulaz inquired. “Has anyone aside from me and my patient entered this room?”

“No sir, you’re the only one.”

“Not even a druid?”

“The druids are busy, sir; they have not been in this wing since Commander Lerzi was brought in.” the soldier reported, trying not to stutter. “Is something… the matter?”

“I thought someone was in the room…” Ulaz sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Shall I call for someone to take your shift?”

“No. Just… be diligent.” Ulaz waved the situation off and returned to his work. He went back to monitoring his patient, a sigh leaving his lips. He didn’t think she would survive, even with the help of High Priestess Hagar. As he stood watch, he detected movement again. “I’ve had enough of thi-” He turned. He stared into the face of a lieutenant. A lieutenant who had been part of the same fleet that Lerzi served in. He knew the face of the lieutenant well; she had come in with severe injuries and died after being brought back to the main fleet.

“Lieutenant Ryl...” Ulaz gasped out. He stepped to the side as the lieutenant walked over to Lerzi, reaching and gently touching her face.

“I will see you soon.” Ryl whispered softly, leaning over and gently kissing Lerzi.

“It took me several doboshes to come out of my stupor, I hadn’t even realized the monitor had been telling me that Lerzi passed on.” Ulaz said. “It wasn’t until that soldier standing guard heard it and entered the room.”

The others were on edge or terrified. A close encounter told in a calm voice. The only one unbothered by it was unsurprisingly Pidge. She didn’t cackle this time, instead she was patting Regris’ tail in a comforting way as he hugged her like a child hugging their plush toy. While Kolivan wasn’t exactly terrified, he certainly was a little unnerved.

“My, that was quite the experience.” Coran said, huddling on one side of Shiro while Allura was on the other.

“Dude, I’d have screamed had that been me!” Hunk whined, glad that Antok was holding onto him closely, though part of that was for the larger Galra’s own peace of mind.

“Holy crow...” Lance whimpered.

“Be brave, Lance, he was probably just exhausted.” Keith tried to rationalize, but even he couldn’t keep the seeping fear back.

“Did… did you ever see her again?” Allura questioned, her voice wavering.

“No, after Lerzi passed on, I never saw Ryl again.” Ulaz admitted. “There had been other cases of shadows on the edge of my vision, but never as full on as Ryl had been.”

“Ah, the story of two lovers, one passed on and knowing the other would soon follow, waiting for her so they could go one together.” Pidge spoke up in a mellow and even endearing voice.

“Are there… other stories to tell?” Shiro questioned, holding onto one of the cushions around him.

“I don’t think I can take much more...” Hunk whimpered.

Pidge looked around. No volunteers. She eyed Matt who nodded.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and those in between, we bring to you the final tale of this evening.” Matt declared, standing up. “Our final tale is by none other than by Katie Pidge Holt. A tale of being lost, being alone… and being afraid.” That last word was said with an ominous tone as the fake stars disappeared and the mock-fire turned green. Several of the others, mainly the humans and Alteans, jumped at the sudden change, though Thace, Antok, and Regris were startled as well.

Pidge was silent, her head down. Then in the most eerie, child-like voice, she spoke. “Mommy? Daddy? Where are you?”

“Why do I have to attend? It’s just a bunch of adults talking about space travel and their kids make fun of me.” Pidge sighed, sitting in her mother’s lap as Colleen had pulled her hair up in the cutest pigtails tied off with green ribbons.

“You can always talk about space travel with them.” Colleen assured.

“Um, hello? Their kids make fun of me and since when did grown ups listen to a seven-year-old kid with the intellect of a sixteen-year-old? They just look at me and tell me that I’ll learn this stuff when I’m older.” Pidge reminded. “I’d much rather just sit in my room and read those flight manuals Dad brought home to study.”

“Now now, sweetie,” Colleen chuckled, “try to grin and bear it. Think of it as… training.”

“Training?” Pidge looked confused.

“One day you’ll go to space… and you may need to put up with a crew who isn’t used to someone so young being so much smarter than them.” Colleen smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Now then, your hair is fixed up, you’re wearing the dress Daddy picked out for you, are you ready to come out? I need to go out and get to grilling.”

Pidge sighed. “I guess...”

“Then up. Up. Up. Up.” Colleen got her daughter up and took her hand. “If after an hour and you’re not happy, you can come back inside and study.” She smirked. “Or, if you can bear the rest of the evening until bed time, I’ll get you that video game you wanted.”

“Oh, now you’re talking my language, Mommy!” Pidge grinned brightly, making Colleen laugh.

And so Pidge did her best, sitting through everything. She sat around the adults more, listening to her father talk with other scientists and pilots. She occasionally asked questions, but they either dismissed her or tried to give her too-simple-to-really-work responses. She sighed after a few hours and got up.

“Honey? Giving up already?” Colleen asked.

“Going to the bathroom, then getting enough peanut butter cookies to put me in a sugar coma tonight.” Pidge responded.

“Get some fruit or vegetable, too. Apples or celery go well with peanut butter.” Colleen reminded.

“That sounds good.” Pidge nodded and went inside. She didn’t notice anything until after she finished washing her hands and went to get her choice of food. By then, though, she realized just how quiet things had gotten.

Pidge didn’t think that was normal. When she had been outside, there was plenty of talking going on, jovial sounds as people talked about space exploration. She stepped outside and blinked. Nothing. No one was there and it was as quiet as could be. “Mommy? Daddy?” Pidge called. “Matt? Where are you?”

Pidge walked out into the yard and looked around. No one. No family. No guests. No one. She couldn’t even smell the scents that were previously there. She went over and neared the grill. Even a couple feet away, she knew she should have smelled the food cooking; she should have been able to feel the heat, even if it turned off in the few short minutes she was inside. She dared to touch the grill, cautious at first, but then her hand flat against it. Cold to the touch.

“Mommy? Daddy! Where are you guys?” Pidge called. She went back inside to check around. Upstairs. Downstairs. The basement. She checked everywhere, but there was no sign of anyone being there. “This isn’t funny! Where are you? Matt, if this is your idea of a joke, I don’t like it!”

She kept looking, but no one was there. No one was talking or calling out for her. She was getting to be afraid. “Where… where are you guys… where...” She started crying. Seven years old, sometimes too smart for her age, but she most certainly was not ready for a situation like this.

“Shush now, don’t cry.” came a gentle and unfamiliar voice. “You’ll be fine, you’re not alone.”

“I want my mommy and daddy!” Pidge whined. “I want Matt! I can’t find them!”

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re not hurt, and we’ll find them.” Pidge felt a careful touch on her back, a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. It felt… relaxing. Then that hand moved and took her own, careful fingers lacing around her little fingers. She looked up, shock filling her at first as she just saw a shadow, no distinguishable features to be found. “Let’s get you back home, okay?” the shadow assured, the voice still sweet and sincere.

Pidge found herself relaxing. She didn’t know who she was, only that she was nice and helpful. She walked through the house again, heading for the back door and holding onto her new friend’s hand. “I already checked out back.” Pidge said.

“Check again. They’re there.” the shadow said. It, she Pidge assumed, knelt down beside the girl, gently running those slender fingers through her pigtails before moving to fix the ribbons. “Now, Pidge, wipe your face, you’re not hurt.” Pidge nodded and did so. “And go to them before they wonder where you are.”

“Okay.” Pidge nodded. “Thank you.” She then went out the door, stepping back out on the back porch, the sounds, sights, and scents right back where they belonged.

“Huh? Oh, Katie, what took you so long?” Colleen asked. “Did you get what you wanted?”

“Mommy...”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Colleen was surprised when Pidge suddenly hugged her. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Hmm?” She hugged her daughter in return, confused but still wanting to comfort her.

“Mom? What’s wrong with Pidge?” Matt asked. “Is she okay?”

“Well, she seems fine.” Colleen assured. “Right?”

“Yeah, now that I found you guys.” Pidge hummed.

“Found us?” Colleen asked. But Pidge didn’t answer and just went to sit down on the bench she had been sitting on earlier, humming to herself. “I wonder what that’s about...”

“Knowing Pidge? Probably something important.” Matt chuckled.

Pidge got the lights all back on. She looked around to see the others startled and staring at her. Ulaz’s close encounter? Startling. Pidge’s? What. The. Quiznak? Even though Matt knew the story, Pidge telling him that incident when she was thirteen, he was spooked by how Pidge told the tale, huddled in close to Regris who had backed off from the gremlin.

“Part of a good telling of tales is the environment and tone.” Pidge stated.

“So… it was made up, right? Or a legend?” Keith asked.

Pidge shook her head. “No, even now, I don’t know how to explain what happened.” she admitted. “Science has failed me in terms of rational reasoning.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well. I got back safely in the end.”

“Can… can we all just agree that… Pidge’s story is quiznaking terrifying?” Allura asked, huddling even closer to Shiro. “Just… what the quiznak? How did you manage the situation?”

“Well, I had been terrified at the time.” Pidge brushed it off. She then looked around to the others. Hah! She even managed to scare Kolivan more as his fur was more bristled than usual and his eyes wide.

“Pidge,” Shiro spoke up, his voice soft until he cleared his throat to correct it, “never tell that story again. Hell, never tell any scary story.”

“At least until the next scary story night.” Pidge cackled.

“Nope. Not happening again.” Thace whined, snuggling in against Ulaz. “If you’re going to tell a story, I’m not going through another horror story night...”

“I agree.” Lance nodded.

“Save those for if someone is foolish enough to capture you and hold you prisoner.” Kolivan suggested. “Just you. None of us.”

Pidge let out a hysterical laugh. “Man, I love telling stories with others.” she declared. She then got up and stretched. “Well! I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted! I’m gonna hit the hay. Ciao!” She then walked off.

“Yeah… I don’t think I can sleep tonight...” Hunk admitted.

“Um… stay up later telling happy stories?” Lance suggested. The others put their hands up, voting positive on that idea.

---------------------------------

Well, I hope I did okay and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Sorry if things seem OOC or not well written, I did what I could.

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fictionalnormalcy · 5 years ago

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1xYrCg0CVE

*rubs hands

All right, I have entered analysis mode. For this post, of the new Steven Universe Future trailer that was released. Now I would just to alert ahead of time, that these upcoming theories expressed are not entirely mine. I bet a lot of us have this on our mind. I am just giving my two cents on this. I have provided a link to the trailer above should you like some insight before reading ahead into the analysis. It is a mere thirty seconds, but man it’s a lot of mind-blowing images packed into the video. There are spoilers ahead, you have been warned.

SPOILERS, TURN BACK NOW IF NOT SEEN

Now, we all remember how the movie ended right? Steven has come to the realization that he will always have work to do, but has also acknowledged that for now he’ll enjoy his happily ever after. When we were given the first teaser trailer, we see that Steven has changed his shirt once again to the same one his dad wore in the flashback episodes. He can now drive, and Little Homeworld has been completed. Then we’re given a single glance of the hardships to come.

There are so many theories that came out of this image. It’s one that leaves you purely shocked. That fact that every single being had glowing eyes. Jasper is still nefarious, even after two years have passed. White Diamond seems to be coming undone. There are two new Lapis Lazulis to be introduced to. A new fusion with the wings of an Aquamarine and the distinct hair of a Ruby. A strange cactus creature that has four heads, all in the shape of Steven. And what was believed to be the source of it all, is the mysterious gigantic caterpillar in the back, which has the odd shape of Steven’s nose.

One of the biggest theories I came upon was the corrupted Steven theory. A factor I found most supporting to the theory was a comic I saw for Goretober. Featuring Jasper and Steven. A confrontation where she tells him something similar to what we saw in this current trailer, where she’ll never see Steven as her diamond. Jasper forcibly fuses with Steven, and because there are permanent marks of corruption, he’s affected as well. Which is how he turns into the caterpillar, and is believed to put those other beings under his control as well.

The cactus is, a little strange, to be frank. The simplest explanation seems to be that Steven somehow licks or bites into a cactus, and it turns into the creature. The Watermelon Stevens and Pumpkin are proof enough. I just don’t know what would make Steven use his powers on a prickly cactus of all things.

I included this image, as reference for what is seen in the newly released trailer.

We’re introduced to another storyline. There is a new gem, which appears to be a Rose Quartz that was once corrupted. Steven is showing her around, and from the looks of it, giving her a tour of Little Homeworld to see if she would want to stay. Telling her how everyone is free to be who they want to be. But then, it seems to change. We start hearing the faint echoes of his voice, everything seems to descend into chaos. We’re reintroduced to characters that I bet a lot of us wondered where they were during the course of the movie. So we are getting some clarification. The Amethysts and Jaspers have come to Earth, Yellow Pearl posing as a model with Vidalia teaching an art class. Pink Pearl’s eye continues to be cracked, and her outfit still displaying the color of her Diamond.

The first trailer, gave us the illusion that things were going to be sunshine and rainbows, with the single still portraying the conflict to come. As for this second trailer, I would have to say that there’s a lot more going on that is going to leave us fans emotionally wrecked.

Oh, and I just want to give a big thanks to Kimberly Brooks for providing such a fantastic voice for Jasper. I am fangirling about this because I think of the other character she voiced, Princess Allura from the reboot of DreamWorks Voltron, and I am very impressed at the drastic change in voice. Okay, moving on.

Of the beings we saw in the single image shown above, only Jasper and the fusion are included in the new trailer. We only get the fusion of Aquamarine and Eyeball for a few seconds, but they seem to be in the temple. Jasper, however, is best expressed as the largest conflict in this trailer. I feel that they included these three gems because the SU Crew would like us to see who still has a bone to pick with Steven and the rest of the Crystal Gems. But I think what really caught my attention the most, that seemed to fuel most of the dramatic parts we saw in the trailer, was what was happening to Steven. And let me just say, from the little we were given, I can make a vague guess as to why Zach Callison says this in an interview: “I hate to do this but the hardest scene I’ve done I did a few weeks ago and I can’t talk about it for quite a while.” I can bet that we’ll be seeing it in the epilogue series.

Jasper, from what we can guess, hasn’t been living in Little Homeworld or in Beach City. Nor has she returned to Homeworld. From what I can perceive, she took some time to herself, and has finally returned. In Battle of Heart and Mind, we see that she clearly needs some time to take in the new things that were uncovered. The biggest being that Steven had Pink Diamond’s gem. And judging from how she returned, Jasper is still as bitter as ever. She still harbors resentment toward Steven, but we don’t see if she wishes to enact revenge or strike at Steven in a different way.

The best we can tell, is that she does want to pick a fight with Steven. And only him. That looks like her foot pushing down on him when he goes fully pink.

There’s a screenshot someone made of Pearl stepping in front of Pink Pearl, defending her from someone. That someone is believed to be Steven. Following on that theory, it leads me to think that it may have been Pink Diamond’s fault that Pink Pearl’s eye was irreversibly damaged. Her cracked eye may not have come from an event that occurred while she was under White Diamond’s control. When we saw her in the Diamond Days episodes, I was under the impression that she had hurt herself while under White’s control, and that White had never allowed her to heal. But judging from how two years have passed and her eyes still continues in that condition, I have to accept that it’s permanent.

There’s another scene where we see Pink Pearl staring at Pink Diamond wistfully. I have a statement to make. Pearl had a crush on Rose Quartz. Pink Pearl had a crush on Pink Diamond. I’ll leave it at that.

I am most psyched, about the fact that Steven turns pink. I feel like it’s further fuel to the corrupted Steven theory, but the trailer provided a more frightening aspect. The trailer as a whole, just seemed to show Steven, unraveling. I mean, why would he suddenly turn off the video his mother made for him with a panicked look on his face. I don’t quite get the vibe that he’s trying to hide it from someone. The echoes of his voice, especially that “Soon we’ll be able to put the past behind us,” the way it kept repeating in the glitched out manner... I really think he’s saying that to reassure himself. Only one more struggle to go through.

A lot of people are suggesting that Steven is getting angry enough that Pink Steven is taking over. I actually, do not think that’s the case.

He looks wholeheartedly Steven. Pink Steven in Battle of Heart and Mind had an empty look and glasslike eyes. What I do agree on, is the rage. Now, Steven being the cinnamon roll that he is, it was quite an awakening when we saw what he was capable of when angry. I want to say that the first sign we see that he can spiral out of control was when he started having Diamond dreams and confronted the gems about it. They weren’t necessarily afraid of him in that aspect, but his outburst of how he hated them keeping secrets from him made everyone squirm in their seats.

But going Pink? This takes it to a whole new level. I can see where the Gem Steven taking over comes from. When we see that piece of Steven, it seemed relatively emotionless.

The anger it portrayed expresses how much unbridled power Steven holds. I mean, when he gets legitimately angry there is damage. When Pink Steven went off, with that single shouted phrase he incapacitated WD and all of the hypnotized gems. Almost knocking over Human Steven and Connie as all. The only emotion that Gem Steven Can seem to express, is anger.

I’m going to steer a little off track, but I swear this will relate to the trailer analysis later. So we were given a foreshadow in the episode where the gems meet Steven for the first time around Christmas. Where they wind up kidnapping him because they didn’t know how to handle a gem-human hybrid. Amethyst says that it was just Rose shapeshifting, which she had done. Pearl thinks Rose is trapped inside, and comes very close to pulling out Steven’s gem. The closest anyone got was Garnet. Saying it was fusion, and it was. Since Steven is half human half gem, there are literally two separate beings combined to make the Steven Universe we know and love.

We see as much when we see that Steven’s human half cannot survive if not supported by the gem half. It reminds me of the crystal shards, and like Garnet says, are pieces of a gem struggling to find the rest of themselves. The shards express one emotion. Desperation. We see Human Steven displaying this as he tries to crawl to his gem half even when he can’t even stand on his own two feet. He’s a fusion, and as seen through most, there are a variety of those emotions running through the combined being. If you pay attention to most fusions, whether when they’re solid or just short of coming undone, you can perceive who is communicating based on the dialogue exchanged. Garnet when saying that they must forgive Pearl. Stevonnie when saying they had to beat Kevin. Malachite when saying they were pathetic. Alexandrite when saying for the two of them to cut it out. You start to get a distinct voice of who is influencing the fusion.

Perhaps there’s a chance, that when Steven turns Pink, it’s the only aspect that Gem Steven can express. It’s the only opportunity for it to express its own control over the fusion. This theory is fragile at best. It still does leave you wondering why only now is Gem Steven starting to express itself by having the fusion turn completely pink.

These two images, made me think of a separate theory. Still somewhat involved with Steven going full on Pink. There was also another image where we see Pink Pearl with a blank look in her eye and the crack spreading across her hair and face.

You know, I feel there’s a reason that they have Steven wearing black. It’s because he’s going to become the darkest we’ve ever seen him. There are THREE instances in the 30 second trailer alone, that show us Steven doesn’t just turn Pink once. And we certainly aren’t given the impression that this is just some new power Steven unfolded. This seems to say, that Steven has finally been pushed to the limit. You have entered him into a vengeful state, and he can be considered a threat to others.

And honest to gods, I do not think Jasper is the sole cause of this release of unrelenting rage.

After this split second image, we do get to see that Steven has regret for what he seemingly just did, cracking a screen of some sort. His hands are cupped over his mouth and there are tears in his eyes. It’s a direct parallel to what his mother did when he had the Diamond dream as Stevonnie.

It could suggest that at first he isn’t control of when he turns Pink, but soon enough he accepts the rage, and unleashes it.

Lot of drama coming. Man, Steven Universe has come a long way.

#steven universe #steven universe future #spoilers #new trailer #analysis #what is to come #corrupted steven theory #pink pearl #fusion #gem steven

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riskeith · 6 years ago

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The Voltron Paper - No. 58,436 (1,784)

FEATURE STORY A breakdown of the relationship that has caught everyone’s attention

PAIRING: Keith/Lance

RATING: teen and up audiences

TAGS: alternate universe, lifeguard lance, journalist keith, surfer keith, pov outsider, newspaper article, (partially), mentioned allura, minor adam/shiro, (those two are very very minor), fluff, getting together

read on AO3 or under the cut

CATCHING… LOVE?

Romance in the waters

Locals have been flocking down to Altea beach like seagulls to a packet of hot chips recently. Why? Well, it’s not because of the alluring ocean, nor the beautiful juniberry flowers which have just bloomed. It’s not even because Unilu, who sells trinkets at the pier, has stopped driving a hard bargain! (Alright, that last one’s a lie. Sorry folks. I was hoping if I published this it would force him to lower his prices. I’ll get you some day!)

Do you know what it is yet? Here’s a clue: it involves our star lifeguard Lance, and a brooding newcomer named—

“—Keith. My name is Keith,” he repeated for the nth time, exasperated. Keith didn’t want this job, he didn’t want to be stuck under the blazing sun, with people everywhere. There was a reason why he started doing this—so he could work in a more serene environment. Except, the person in front of him, who was glued to a pair of binoculars, barely paying him any attention, said he couldn’t leave his post, not even for an hour. And thus, here he was.

He would admit, though, that Lance’s dedication to his work was admirable. In fact, it was why he was here (aside from the ‘can’t abandon my people’ thing). Lance completed a massive rescue during a particularly nasty rip a few days back, and Keith was here to interview him. He was just about to try and ask his question, again, when Lance exclaimed—

Bingo! That’s right. The pair are such a spectacle, people want to see them banter and flirt! No one would’ve imagined this at the start; when Keith first came down to this lovely area, he didn’t get along with Lance at all! He was pictured storming off in frustration after day three! There were actually concerns raised about their dynamic, and the impact it may have on the beach.

“Oh definitely,” head lifeguard Allura told me. “We were afraid they’d scuffle and cause a scene! We hadn’t had a fight in a while, and wanted to keep it that way.”

Long-time beachgoer Shiro gave a statement too, remarking, “I reckon they’re just young blokes whose personalities clash a bit. Naturally, this’ll result in some tension between them.”

Fiancé Adam then added, “Yep, tension, if you know what I mean,” waggling his eyebrows. Shiro simply rolled his eyes lovingly, and Adam chuckled, then kissed Shiro on the cheek.

(Doesn’t that sound cute? But seriously, I was still there, guys! I also asked Shiro if he would formally be joining the lifeguard team any time soon, but he said he had to focus on the wedding first. Look out for a piece on that as well!)

Before long though, the two seemed to soften up around each other. The rumour is that they spent Lance’s lunch breaks up in the tower together, and I wonder—

“—do you ever get frustrated that people don’t listen?” It was a lot easier to talk with Lance now. Keith wasn’t sure how the change came about, but he welcomed it. And he wasn’t asking this question for the sake of his interview. Sure, it might be included, but most of their conversations were off record, a chance for them to get to know each other. Keith wanted to see if Lance was the same person he appeared to be on the shores. (He wasn’t, and Keith decided he liked this version of Lance most—the one who talked sincerely with genuine passion, the one who held Keith’s gaze steady, but not as a challenge.)

“For sure. Something I don’t get is why they don’t read the signs. It’s fine if they can’t comprehend the words, the language barrier isn’t on them, but look at the pictures, you know? I’d think that a big red cross would be universal for ‘NO’, but nope, they’re ignored all the time.”

Keith nodded, chuckling. He’d helped save people before too, and remembered thinking this after becoming frustrated that people kept wandering into the ‘dangerous currents’ zone.

“Any message you’d like to give them?”

“Yeah, look. All I have to say is just listen to us when we tell you something. We don’t say things lightly, nor do we do things willy-nilly.”

“Well, what do you like to do outside the job?” This question was in no way related to work, and Keith knew Lance knew it. There was no surprise on his face though, however Keith did see the glimpse of a smirk.

“I’m here even when I’m not working, I reckon. Sometimes I’ll just go for a swim, other times I’ll take my board out for a ride. I have a day off soon, maybe you could join me in the water? I’ll show you a few beginner’s tips and tricks.”

“Sounds great.” There were some things Keith wanted to show Lance too. “Back to the previous story though, I bet—"

—they behaved differently behind closed doors, out of the public’s eye. Their demeanours outside certainly didn’t change. In fact, their rivalry seemed to reach its peak when Keith revealed he was a pro surfer!

Lance had been sitting on his board, gesturing at Keith, probably trying to teach him the basics. What he didn’t know was that Keith was pretending to be a novice. He pulled it off well, I must say. Looking timid while paddling out, toppling from his board before he could even stand up—he had it all down. Lance could be seen laughing at him, while Keith clung onto his board, scowling.

Keith got the last laugh though. As a big wave came in, Lance prepared to surf it, and after getting up, looked around to show Keith, only to realise he was right next to him! Keith’s smirk could be seen from miles away, and the shock caused Lance to topple right off his board and into the water.

They seemed to have a conversation out at sea, wherein Lance gasped and flailed his arms. Keith just smiled. Then, they got back to surfing. Later, they told onlookers it was a competition, but I think we all knew otherwise.

The two of them looked like one with the other, and with the water, out there. They performed various tricks and manoeuvres, but moving in sync, subconsciously coordinating their moves. It was a show, honestly.

And surely, if we experienced all of this just watching them, there was no way they didn’t felt the chemistry too, right? Well, despite knowing this, as they came back to shore, something happened that surprised us all.

They were holding hands. Keith was holding hands with Lance. Of all the crazy things that just happened, he’d argue this was at the top. He wasn’t sure why. It could be due to the fact there was a crowd in front of them (who were cheering?), but also because it was so… soft. It wasn’t really like them, he thought. Their dynamic had never been this muted. The events leading up to this certainly weren’t.

After Lance got himself back onto his board following the fall, he directed a very angry and confused expression at Keith.

“What the heck was that?”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t quell Lance. When he revealed that he was a former professional surfer, Lance’s eyes widened.

“Alright then; show me your moves, Mr Pro.”

And of course Keith took the bait.

Once they took to the water together though, it didn’t feel like showing off. It felt like they were creating something; collaborating; communicating with something other than words. Keith had never felt like this riding waves before, and he knew it was the same for Lance.

After finishing their… thing (courtship display, Lance would call it), as they headed back to shore, Lance confessed.

“I really like you, and I think you’re amazing, and I hope I’m not under the wrong impression that—”

“I like you back,” Keith completed for him.

“Yeah.” Lance watched him with nervous eyes. Keith didn’t realise why until a beat passed.

“No, I like you back.”

“Oh!” Lance brightened up instantly. “Does this mean you’ll hang around? Because you mentioned something about wanting out from the bustle before…”

Keith didn’t take long to think about it, “Yeah.” He stopped consider it again, then nodded. “Yeah. I’ve missed this.” Keith gestured around them with an arm, where they were surrounded by ocean and sky blues. He then looked into Lance’s eyes, also blue.

“You could take up the lifeguard gig too.”

“Yeah? I bet I could pull off more rescues than you.”

Lance scoffed. “Fat chance.”

Keith paddled towards Lance, then leaned in close, hovering before his mouth. Lance got the message, closing his eyes, except Keith swiped at his hands, making him slip and fall. Keith ‘rescued’ him, grabbing his hand after he resurfaced. Before pulling him up though, he got close again, said, “Yeah?”, then finally kissed him. It tasted like the ocean—salty, but also familiar.

Keith glanced over at Lance now, who gave him a small, tender smile, and he couldn’t help but return it. He decided that this was nice. It was new, but hey, surfing had been that to him once too. As for—

—the rest, well, as they say: it’s history.

But it’s not over yet! I have some very exclusive comments from the pair themselves to close the article. (Be warned, they’re very sweet.)

“I will admit I didn’t like him at first. He seemed so serious and hot-headed. But as we talked, I realised that he really wasn’t like that at all. Okay, he still got angry easily, but it started being kind of hot, you know? Especially when it was directed towards those I couldn’t express my own frustration at, since I was on duty. Anyways, he’s a pretty funny guy, and surprisingly expressive. Also, tactile. Haha, don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite. You’re not fooling anyone, babe! Ah, look at his blush. So cute.”

“Yes. No. What kind of question is that? Fine. I came here as a journalist, but I won’t be leaving as one. No, Lance, I’m not saying my occupation is ‘Lance’s boyfriend’. Um, well, I guess I started to fall for him once I saw how passionate he was about his work. He never loses his temper, and he’s really good with the people. I can see why he’s so well liked. Yeah, you’re very gorgeous. What? You’re the one who said it first! Well, I’m not joking. This guy… We’re going to work on that.”

(Lance and Keith will be surfing together again, be sure to come check it out!)

#klance #klance fic #vld keith #vld lance #voltron legendary defender #vld #keith #lance #wowclunawrites #okos

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bleusarcellewrites · 7 years ago

Text

Glowing

Hello!! I read this post made by @softklanceday and couldn’t help myself on writing a small drabbled for it.

It was fun and it’s such an amazing and cute concept!Thank your for letting me write this! Read more under the cut.

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me.

Hunk’s fingernails had glowed a deep bright orange, somehow resembling the sunset itself, and it wasn’t long before he found Shay, whose eyelids would glow the same color as his nails in the dark.

Soulmates. His best friend had found his soulmate and Lance had hoped that maybe soon would be his turn.

Two years later and Lance thinks the universe has horrible timing.

Lance purses his lips in concentration, fingers tracing his cheeks slowly, as if studying them. His freckles have never been that visible on the day, except maybe after an entire afternoon at his hometown’s beach, but that had only changed recently.

He found them during one of his beauty regimens, a late one for that matter because the weekly hang out with the gang had ended a little too late but none of them had really complained. Lance definitely didn’t, especially when Keith’s sleepy form had lean against him, face buried on his shoulder before Shiro called it a night and saved Lance’s heart from exploding.

Once back in his dorm room, Lance had been on the middle of applying his green goo face mask on his forehead when the lights had gone out. He’d been a second away from screaming out in annoyance when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Small purple dots glowed back at him through the mirror and Lance remembers gasping so loud that Hunk had come running, a small candle in hand as he looked around the bathroom for any possible danger.

Glowing purple freckles. Lance got freckles as his signature for his soulmate link and they were purple.

Not just any purple! It had been such a rich purple, reminding Lance of a particular nebulae seen in his astronomy class, earlier in the semester. Talking about aesthetic, hell yeah.

The power didn’t come back until next morning but Lance barely noticed. He spent the entire night staring at a mirror. Professor Coran hadn’t been that amused during the class next day when Lance slept through half of the session.

The only downside, though, is that he has no clue on who his soulmate is. It’s been two weeks and he has yet to met anyone with the same color as his freckles.

It’s a fact that he knows them, he must know them because then the link wouldn’t have triggered, but who? The barista at BOM’s Cafe? The librarian where they go to study twice a week? It could be literally anyone.

God, he hopes it’s Keith.

The thought makes him pause for a second before he groans and hides his face in his hands. He really shouldn’t think of someone else when his soulmate might be out there, glowing the same shade as he is, but it’s so hard to remember that whenever Keith’s eyes are on his or when Keith’s touch makes him giddy and happy.

Lance tries to be reasonable, that anything is possible, but every time they hang out and he sees no glowing skin on Keith’s body, his small spark of hope gets dimmer.

“Lance? You there?” Keith’s voice appears out of the sudden, followed by two quick knocks on the door, and Lance’s heart skips a beat without his consent.

Rude, heart.

“Yeah, I’m here, what up?” Lance answers a few seconds later, pushing himself back from the mirror to look at the door.

“Everyone’s asking for you, we are about to start the movie.” Keith says, slowly opening the door and meeting Lance’s gaze, “Come on, Slowpoke, Pidge is this close to flee to the lab if we don’t arrive soon.”

Lance laughs, shaking his head in amusement as he rolls his eyes. “Cheese, that girl needs to learn that being surrounded by robots is not really ‘socializing’.”

“I don’t know, Rover has amazing topics to talk about.” Keith shrugs, a small grin in place before frowning when Lance pokes his forehead, his glasses sliding down at the move.

“Of course you would think so, Mr. Mothman Is Out There.”

Keith scoffs, glaring up at the brunet as he pushes his glasses back up. “He is out there.”

“Sure, sure.” Lance gives in, raising his arms in mock surrender as he exits the bathroom, “How are the new glasses, by the way? Good?”

Keith nods, following him out of dorm quietly. “Yeah, my headaches are starting to lessen, so I guess it was true that staying up with your laptop screen in the dark was not good for the eyesight, huh?”

“Ya think so?”

Keith punches his arm in annoyance but there’s a small playful grin on his lips and Lance calls it a win.They make it to the common room without any casualties and of course, their friends also notices that fact.

“Hey, look at that! Keith managed to get Lance without killing him on the way.” Shiro cheers, cackling when Keith throws a cushion at him, provided by Matt.

“Oh, come on, we haven’t tried to killed each other since, I don’t know? A year?” Lance says, rolling his eyes at the words.

“I wonder why.” Hunk giggles behind his palm, doing absolutely not a good job on hiding his mischievous grin, wiggling his eyebrows at Lance in a manner that tells the brunet that Hunk knows way too much for his own good.

Shiro is next to pass the cushion to Lance, who nods in thanks before hitting Hunk on the face with it.

“Ow! Man down!”

Matt clicks his tongue then, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. “It’s so unfair, though? Like, I always hear about these epic wild competitions between these two nerds back then they were rivals and it was before I was part of the group!”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to go study an entire year in Germany, remember?” Pidge says, raising one finger up in accusation, shaking it near her brother’s face.

Matt scoffs and waves if off. “Well yeah, but I didn’t know I was going to miss all the fun? Now, all I get to see between these two nerds it’s awkward pini -”

The cushion that collides with Matt face don’t allows him to finish that sentence.

“Awkward pine trees.” Keith says, clapping his hands nervously and shifting on his seat innocently, as if he hadn't just thrown like a missile the cushion at Matt two seconds ago, “Man, I hate those pine trees too.”

Lance arches an eyebrow. “What?”

“Awful save.” Shiro deadpans, and Lance can’t even repeat his own question because really what the fuck before Allura makes herself present, a bunch of paper bags and empty bowls hanging from her hands.

“Alright, you beasts! Food is here and so is your queen!” Allura shouts, big grin on her face as she drops the bags on the couch, next to Lance.

Lance looks up to meet her eyes before he frowns. “You are not Beyonce.”

“Imma punch you, Lance, and when you get the concussion, maybe then I will be Beyonce.”

“Touché.”

Allura laughs, mouth opening to continue before she catches sight of Keith on the other side of the room and she scowls.

“Oh, Lord, you actually bought the transition ones?” Allura sighs, shaking her head like a disappointed mother before scoffing in mock exasperation when Keith only shrugs.

“What? It’s like sunglasses and ‘seeing’ glasses all in one.” Keith says nonchalantly, smiling back at Allura innocently.

Allura doesn’t look impressed but she let’s it go, waving him off as she takes seat on the ground. “If you say so, Hipster Wannabe.”

“Rude.”

“I think they suit him!” Matt chimes in, throwing himself on top of Allura from behind, his chin on her shoulder, “Besides, his eyes get this cool mysterious navy blue tone behind the dark lenses, ya know?”

“My eyes are just blue, asshole.” Keith laughs, kicking Matt on the hip as he sits on the couch behind him.

Hunk hums, shaking his head as he flops himself on the floor next to Pidge. “Nah, they are like, a deep shiny blue, close to grey, maybe?”

“Wanna bet?” Shiro mumbles under his breath and yelps when the cushion collides with the back of his head, “Ow? Keith, dude!”

“People, people, yes, Keith has eyes are blue or something; can we please watch the movie, now?” Pidge whines, raising her arms to the air as she lays on the floor, a blanket poorly wrapped around her frame.

“Yeah! Come on, I want some action and some pow, pow, pow!” Lance says excitedly, throwing himself to the couch next to Keith, all while ignoring the way his heart flutters in excitement when his arm brushes against Keith’s.

“What are those?” Keith asks, arching an confused eyebrow, and four pairs of eyes light up at the words.

“We are not having this discussion again!” Allura cuts in abruptly, waving her hands at all four Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, who purse their lips in defeat, “Just please play the movie, Shiro.”

“Aye, aye, Princess.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about! I’m never here for the good embarrasing inside jokes!”

“Germany, Matt!”

Friendship with Keith didn’t start at the beginning. It took Lance almost a year to admit that he was considered as a friend and two more months to admit that actually no, he’s a crush and a guy Lance’s pretty much in love with.

It started slow. It started with movie nights with the gang and surprised laughs after some particular shenanigans. It grew with study session and moments of vulnerability, where Keith would confess that he’s afraid of letting his adopted parents down at college, of being left behind for not being good enough and be alone again, like in the beginning with no family and no purpose.

It developed and formed over drunken nights, between uncontrollable giggles before they turned into sobs as Lance poured out every single insecurity inside him, letting himself for once be held in Keith’s arms as the other teen comforts him with a soft voice he had never used with Lance before.

It got stronger after every fight and argument, when behind angry words was raw concern and worry. It settled down after quiet apologies and steady fist pumps, sealing a bond they didn’t realized it was there.

Lance doesn’t know how, when or why he fell for Keith, but he guesses it was somewhere within those times. His freckles might glow a color that won’t match Keith, but Lance can’t seem himself to regret any of it.

The common room is silent, except for Hunk’s snores and Matt’s whining when Shiro’s feet accidentally kick him on the ribs in his sleep. Lance blinks then, the movie credits blurry before he rubs his eyes slowly.

The screen turns black, the background music of the movie finally fading out and leaving Lance to focus on the heavy but warm weight on his right side. He turns his head slightly, eyes focusing on Keith’s face as he breaths slowly near Lance’s shoulder.

Lance smiles, soft and fond, before he carefully grabs Keith’s glasses that are hanging too low on his nose and takes them off, holding his breath in hopes not to disturb the sleeping teen and then sighing in relief when all Keith does is to frown unconsciously, burying his face closer to the couch.

Lance stares then, himself shifting on his seat, half laying on his side, facing Keith. This is what he wants. This is who he wants and Lance is more than okay if Keith doesn’t glow with him, Lance knows that now, because he would rather have Keith by his side than anyone else.

“Wha ‘ime ish it?” Keith mumbles quietly, words muffled against the couch’s surface and Lance’s eyes widen in surprise while Keith’s stay closed.

“You’re awake?” Lance asks softly, leaning closer to Keith’s face.

“Yeah, you’re thinkin’ too loud.” Keith murmurs tiredly and Lance huff, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just - ya know, thinking how ugly your hair is.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keith chuckles, making a face as he stretches on the spot and then slowly blinks his eyes open. “You’re one to talk, have you seen your bed hair? Wild as fuck.”

Lance’s mouth open to answer with his own witty comeback but then forgets how to breathe when he meets Keith’s eyes.

“Lan -? Oh.” Keith gasps, two big and wide eyes glowing brightly purple back at Lance’s blue ones, moving from one side of his face to the other one, “Wha - You? Your freckles, Lance, your color -”

“Our color.” Lance breaths out, a small excited smile twitching in the corner of his mouth, “Our - Keith, Keith, we got a color.”

“I got you.” Keith says instead, smile beaming as he pushes himself forward into Lance’s space, “Dude, oh my god, I didn’t - I thought - !”

“When? How?” Lance asks, wincing when someone of their friends below them grumble in annoyance. He lowers his voice, “Keith, when did you get those anime eyes? You look like a main character from an old anime.”

“Those ‘Main Anime Character’s eyes’ are our soul link, you asshat.” Keith huffs, rolling his eyes mockingly, “A few weeks ago, a day before my eyesight exam -”

“Oh, you ass, you bought the transition ones to cover the glow?” Lance hisses, mouth wide open in offense when Keith smiles sheepishly, “Keith!”

“Hey, hey, now! I just - I got them a few weeks ago, right after we went to the movies, you know when Pidge ‘accidentally’ dropped her soda on the guy on the phone on the row below us?” Lance nods quickly and Keith continues, “Yeah, well, that night I came home and I dunno what did it, but one moment I was thinking about you and the lame joke you had said earlier and the next thing I know Shiro’s screaming bloody murder and throwing shit at me -”

“What the - ?”

“To be fair, all he saw in the darkness were like these two big glowly circles in the middle of our dorm room, I would freak too.” Keith says, shrugging his shoulders and smiling when Lance laughs.

“Oh my god, Keith.” Lance shakes his head in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell us, though? Why didn’t - Didn't you want to find your soulmate? Before you knew it was me, didn’t you want -”

“But I didn’t want my soulmate,” Keith cuts in, desperately and hurried, “I wanted - I want you, Lance.”

Lance’s world stops.

“I didn’t want anyone else if they weren’t you, because I want you. I want your lame jokes, your loud greetings, your smiles and your laugh.” Keith offers a small shy smile, quickly wetting his lips before he takes a deep breath and continues, “I just want you, for who you are; as Lance and my best friend.”

“Keith,” Lance says quietly, voice wet and wobbly but Keith doesn’t let him finish.

“That’s all I ever wanted, I just never thought I could have this - you.” Keith whispers and Lance’s soul exits his body.

“You can have me,” Lance mumbles, biting down his lower lip in a weak attempt to control his the growing happy smile on his mouth, “But only if I can have you too.”

It takes Keith a few seconds before he beams back at him.

Keith smiles, soft and happy, hand raising slowly until it rest against Lance’s cheek, thumb caressing the surface of his skin, tracing each and every single freckles on display. Lance could honestly close his eyes, to enjoy the sensation of Keith’s fingers on his skin, the warm and tingle they leave behind as they move across his face but then he wouldn't see those two orbs staring right at him.

Keith looks at him as if he was a nebulae itself, with such awe and tenderness that Lance’s sure his heart will explode any minute now.

But it doesn’t, and Lance allows himself to melt under Keith’s touch and lose himself in Keith’s eyes, enjoying to see their soul link, their color, for once outside the mirror.

Then Keith’s eyes shift, looking down for half a second but it’s enough for Lance to know his intentions.

“You got yourself a deal, then.”

Lance seals it by closing the reminding distance between them.

#bleu writes #klance #laith #klance fic #laith fic #vld lance #vld keith #klance soulmate #soft klance #safe klance #fluff klance #lance mcclain #keith kogane

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paladinfeathers · 7 years ago

Note

Headcanon for the Paladins (+ Matt and Allura) knowing their S/O since childhood? Like, since elementary school and earlier, maybe? Thank!

OH BOY, I'm a sucker for childhood sweethearts. Give me fluff, or give me death.

-Mod Rowan

LANCE

- It was your first day of the first grade, and you were at a brand new school. You were pretty terrified of all the new people and places around you, and it was all ten times more daunting because you were completely alone.

- That is, until tiny first-grader Lance walked up to you at recess and gave you some pieces of chalk. The two of you spent the rest of the hour drawing together on the ground, and you've been inseparable ever since.

- Being friends with Lance since childhood means you were unofficially adopted by his entire family. His parents treat you like their own child, and his cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents all see you as a relative.

- This also means you're probably able to hold a decent conversation in Spanish. Kids soak information up like sponges, so essentially growing up in a bilingual household means you learned a lot from the rest of the family.

- Hunk came into the picture a few years later, and maybe at first you were a little bit jealous of him, because for as long as you could remember it had just been you and Lance. But that jealousy faded quickly once you got to know Hunk, because he's a sweetheart. Now you have two best friends.

- It wasn't until your first year at the garrison that you realised you had feelings for Lance. Feelings that weren't quite platonic. It started when you saw him flirting with a really cute girl from one of your classes, and you were overcome by a sudden wave of nausea.

- At first you maybe thought you were coming down with a cold. But then it happened again, and again, and eventually you ended up crying against Hunk's shoulder because 'what the heck are these feelings and why do they exist?????'

- Lance would notice pretty quickly that something was bothering you. You guys have known each other for over a decade, after all. You know everything about each other, and you've shared all your secrets.

- When he confronts you about it, you just sigh and deflate, and tell him you think you're in love with him. There's no point in trying to hide anything. He's a total dork, but he's perceptive. He'd figure it out eventually.

- But OH BOY. The grin on this nerds' face.

- He's just so relieved because he loves you too??? He's loved you since you guys were ten, and now he gets to shout it to the world! If it's okay with you, of course.

-Honestly, you two have the cutest relationship, built on years of trust and friendship and honesty.

- You're his biggest supporter when you all end up in space and he becomes a paladin of Voltron.

- "Heck yeah babe, kick some alien ass!!"

HUNK

- You guys met in kindergarten, during lunch. You kept to yourself mostly, and didn't notice the new kid until a bunch of people started whispering about his lunch.- Everyone else had fruit gushers or lunchables, and Hunk had a delicious-looking homemade meal. Of course, some kids are giant assholes, so a few of them were poking fun at him for the 'weird food' he had.- Especially this one kid, who always got time outs at recess for pushing the other students and calling them names.- So you, quiet little you, marched up to this kid who was lurking over Hunk's shoulder and saying rude things, and dumped your entire thermos of soup over his head.- Of course, the kid tattled, and both you and Hunk got into some deep shit (no matter how many times you tried to explain that Hunk hadn't done anything). - But when you were both sat inside during recess for your time-out, Hunk quietly thanked you for standing up for him, and offered you a snack from his lunch bag. "Since you dumped your lunch all over that kid."- Thus begun your wonderful friendship.- His family loves you, and spoil you with food and treats and hugs. You adore them. They're your home away from home. When you're at Hunk's place, you have no worries. You can just be yourself, and be completely honest about everything, and you know you won't face any judgement.- So the afternoon that Hunk's mom sits you down in private on the couch is a bit of a shock. You're thirteen at that point, and just beginning your awkward high school journey. You don't really know what to do about this sudden confrontation.- But Momma Garrett just smiles at you knowingly. "I see the way you look at my son." You entire face gets hot, and she tries very hard to hide a laugh. "You two would be wonderful together. Ever since he met you, he's been more confident and happy."- You're SHOOK.- Because what the heck, you thought you were being inconspicuous, but here comes your Unofficial Mom, telling you that you should definitely date her son.- You need some time to think.-And by 'some time' you mean, a few years.- You don't tell Hunk about your feelings until the summer before you joined the garrison. - He hadn't thought about you in a romantic way before, and for a while you're heartbroken. Because you think he doesn't love you back. You feel embarrassed and dumb and emotional, and it kind of just sucks.- But over the next few weeks, Hunk thinks more and more about you. About what a great person you are, about how you inspire him to be the best version of himself. About how cute you are, with your corny jokes and bad puns, and your bright smile, and your warm eyes...and how you light up a room when you walk in...and how your laughter makes his heart beat a million times a minute...- OH.- He goes to your dorm immediately to tell you that he most definitely loves you too.- You two are #Couple Goals. And Lance won't stop gushing about how adorable you guys are. Even when you're in space. You're still the Couple Of The Century.

KEITH

- Oh boy.- You met this kid shortly after his mom left. - He was angry, and sad, and confused. It was all very intense, and you had a hard time understanding what he was going through.- Actually, for a while he didn't even recognize you as his friend. At recess, you'd sit near him and play, since he didn't want to join in. You'd take the seat beside him during classes, and at lunch you'd quietly slip some of your gummy candies onto his plate.- You didn't expect him to acknowledge you ever. I mean, he hadn't paid you any mind for the last few months, so why would he start?- Until one day, the class bully tripped you on the playground. You started crying because you skinned your knee and ripped your pants, and the jerk started mocking you for being a crybaby.- ENTER KEITH.- This tiny boy tackled the fuck out of that bully, fists and curses flying everywhere. You'd never heard a seven year old swear before, but then you met Keith.- "How dare you hurt my best friend!!"- The bully had a bloody nose and a sprained wrist by the time a teacher managed to pull Keith off of him. The rest of the kids on the playground were now mildly terrified of him. But you? You looked at him and saw an angel.- From then on, you were a pair. Someone saw Keith in the hallway? Y/N was nearby. Some students wanted you in their group for a project? Nope sorry, Keith has to come too.- You stayed like that all throughout your lives, never giving a damn about what other people thought of your relationship.- By the time you were both established in the garrison, everyone knew that you two were a package deal. But then the Kerberos team disappeared, and Keith got expelled, and then vanished into the desert without a word.- Anyone with eyes could see that you were going out of your mind without your best friend around, without your sole source of comfort. He hadn't contacted you, or left a note, or any way of finding him...- So no one was really surprised when a few pieces of garrison technology went missing, along with you. A few of the other students had made a betting pool to guess how long it would take you to run off to try and find Keith.-But find him, you did.- He was really surprised when he returned from the desert one afternoon, only to find you sitting on the floor of his dwelling reading over his maps, while munching on a bag of candies.- "Keith Kogane, you are such an asshole, you know that?"- He has the decency to look ashamed for leaving you behind. "I'm sorry. I just- I needed to do this. I need to find Shiro-"- You jumped on him and squished him into a hug, trying to convey without words how worried you were.- You wanted to stay with him after that, but he managed to convince you to return to the garrison. If not to help yourself, then to help him find information about what really happened during the Kerberos mission. If you were still at the garrison, you'd have access to information he didn't.- But you made sure to stay in contact.- You guys didn't start dating until after he'd become a paladin. You were worried sick when team Voltron went on their first mission together. So worried, that the moment everyone returned to the castle and Keith stepped out of the Red Lion, you ran up to him and planted one right on his mouth.- You guys are adorable.

SHIRO

- You guys met in the third grade, when your teacher paired you up for the class science fair. At first you were a little bit bummed, because you had big ideas and you really doubted that any other eight-year-olds would be able to keep up with you. But here comes Shiro, who not only liked your ideas, but was able to understand everything and even contribute to the project.- After that, you two were always together. You both loved that you had someone who shared your passions with as much fervor as the other.- You drifted apart for a little while in high school, when you got sucked into the world of peer pressure and started hanging out with the 'cool kids'. You stopped showing interest in science and mathematics, and instead followed the lead of your 'friends' by gossiping and skipping class.- Eventually, your grades started to suffer, and your parents and teachers decided to set you up in a tutoring program. And your tutor? Shiro.- You were distant at first, embarrassed by the kind of person you'd become, and anxious because 'this is the guy who you left in the dust'. And honestly Shiro's a little bit mad at you for leaving him, too. Especially because you left him for the jerky popular kids.- After a few tutoring sessions though, you finally open up to him about everything, about your insecurities and why you felt the need to give up your intelligence. He understands, of course he does. He's always had a strong sense of self, so what the other students said never really got under his skin. But you faced a lot of pressure, from family, from other people, from the world. He gets it.- By the time you finish your tutoring with him, your friendship is stronger than ever, and you're back to your old self; kind, goofy, and smart.- You end up shocking the popular kids with your newfound confidence, and by the end of high school you and Shiro are now beloved in your school. Everyone admires that you're kind to other students, and are always willing to help.- It's not a surprise when you both get accepted into the garrison, and later graduate at the top of those classes too.- But then Shiro went on the Kerberos mission. You can't stop thinking about how it should have been you, instead of him.- You'd been offered a job on the shuttle, but you had been scared. In that fear, you had respectfully declined...only for your best friend to get the offer instead.- And he died. Because you believed yourself a coward.- The 'what if' scenarios wouldn't get out of your head. What if you hadn't been afraid? You'd shouldn't have been afraid. You'd been training for this for years. You should have said yes. If you'd agreed to the mission, like you were supposed to, Shiro would be alive and safe. You can't stop beating yourself up about it.- Then it turns out that Shiro actually IS alive??? And the entire time you're with him, you're in shock. What do you say in this situation? 'Hey best bud, I'm glad you're not dead.' ?- When things settle down a bit, finally, and you're all in the castle and the lions have been retrieved, you tug Shiro aside and take him for a walk around the hallways.- You're both anxious. The tension between you two is tangible, and you can both feel it.- So you decide not to say anything. Instead, you stop in the middle of the hall, take Shiro's face between your hands, stretch up on your toes, and kiss him.- And this man is a dork, who am I kidding? He probably giggles part way through the kiss, and you hide your face in his shoulder and tell him to shut up. You love each other very much.- Space Power Couple.- Also, he likes watching you fight. Your intelligence was always an attractive quality, but watching you move around and destroy enemies? It does things to him.

PIDGE- You're maybe in the same grade as her, maybe you're one year up, and you're new to the school. At lunch, you always hear other students muttering about the nerdy girl named Katie. 'Katie always has her face in a book' or 'she's always drawing diagrams'. Things like that. You've never liked the way that kids get mean and gossipy, as if being smart is a bad thing.- You make it your personal mission to find out who this Katie person is, and befriend her. Everyone needs friends, right?- You had a plan to approach her at lunch, and offer her some cookies you'd made with your dad that had been iced so they looked like spaceships and robots. You figured that snacks would be a good way to break the ice.-But then you saw some of the fifth graders picking on her, stealing one of the books she always wrote in, tearing the pages out, and throwing the remains over a fence into someone's backyard.- She's rightfully pissed at them, but the recess bell ensures that she's not able to go retrieve what's left of her book. So, you hide in a bush while the rest of the students file into their classrooms, and then you sneak into the yard to pick up the pieces.- The next day, you approach Pidge at lunch. Cookies in one hand, mended book in the other. She's excited about the cookies, but nearly cries when you give her back her book.- The pages are crinkled, but they're taped back together in the correct order, and honestly its the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for her?? You also added a drawing in the back of the book; a picture of a robot with rocket arms and a mouth that dispenses snacks. - She won't tell anyone, but she loved that drawing so much, she still has it taped to her bedroom wall.- Fast forward a couple of years, she's still a little bit awkward around people. But you love that about her. You love how passionate she is, and even if you don't always understand what she's talking about, her energy is contagious and you can't help but get excited too.- That being said, you HAVE learned a lot from her over the years. You're not as knowledgeable as she is, but you're able to build computers and complete basic codes.- You've probably also become friends with Matt over time, too. He and his sister are really close, so the fact that you're her extra supportive best friend? You're a good bean, to him. He calls you this. Matt calls you a Good Bean. Matt is a dork.- And you never stop supporting her, especially when the Kerberos mission goes south, and she loses two people she loves. When she gets caught sneaking into the garrison, you immediately apply for a scholarship there. If Pidge needs information, you'll help her get it.- You get accepted into one of the programs there, and you decide to tell her on the day you move into your dorm. But then.- You see her in the hallway.- With short hair.- In the boy's dorms????- You kind of just stare at each other for a moment, before simultaneously yelling at each other "what the heck are you doing here???", "I go to school here!!", "What? Since when?!", "Stop saying everything I'm saying!!". Honestly you guys are two peas in a pod, you even yelled the same things at each other.- You guys settle down and find a quiet place to explain yourselves. She's touched that you would go through all of this to help her out. Of course you would go through all of that for her, you love her. "LIKE A FRIEND." you quickly correct yourself.- Pidge doesn't believe that one bit, but at the moment, she's not ready to date anyone and she doesn't want to make things tense between you two by rejecting you. So she accepts your explanation. For now...- You don't start dating until after she bonds with her lion. She's in a better place, emotionally and mentally, and she tells you this. "So...if you want to ask me out now, I wouldn't say no."- You hide your face in your hands, but ask her on a date anyways.- Spoiler, she says yes.- You guys have a picnic in Green's head while you fly around the stars.- You're the cutest, nerdiest couple.- And when Pidge gets Matt back, he loudly proclaims that he saw it coming from a mile away.

MATT

-You officially met Matt in the fifth grade. Before then, he'd just been another face in your class. But you got paired with his little sister as a reading buddy, and from her, Matt had heard all about you.- "Y/N is the best reading buddy. They like that I love science.", "Today we read a book about computer codes. Y/N even taught me some things about building computers.", "Matt, did you know that Y/N built their own laptop? They brought it to school today to show me and it's so much better than the computers in the classrooms."- Ten year old Matt is honestly a little bit jealous of this mystery person that his favourite sister keeps gushing about. But at the same time, he's really glad that someone else is encouraging Pidge in her interests, and having fun with her. But he's still a little jealous.- Until he actually sees you at school. And wow, you're really cute? His tummy does a little flip when he sees you for the first time, and it concerns him because he's never had a feeling like that before?- He walks right up to you though, and thanks you for taking such good care of his sister. And you smile, because you're really glad to know Katie, she's such a sweet kid, and she has so much potential. "It's also really nice that another kid here likes computers as much as I do."- He very awkwardly tells you that HEY, he likes computers too so maybe you guys should hang out sometime and....talk? about computers. And stuff. He fizzles out into a blushing mess by the time he's done asking you to be friends.- But you're not deterred. You like Matt. Katie talks about him a lot, and he seems like a good person. So your parents arrange a weekend for you two to get together, and it's the start of the dorkiest friendship ever.-No really, you're huge dorks. You guys have projects you work on specifically with each other, and you geek out over sci-fi and dumb memes and the latest news from his Dad's work. - "Matt, I didn't think we were allowed to know about your Dad's work?"- "We're not. Which is why I sneaked past their firewalls and...borrowed the encrypted information...."- "Matt Holt!! You stole from a government facility??!?!"- "I didn't steal it! I plan on giving it back!"- Matt, you can't give back non-tangible information. But you sigh and go along with it, because honestly you're just as curious as he is.- When you're teens, he gets accepted into the garrison a year before you do, due to his ridiculously smart brain as well as references from his Dad. - You miss him dearly for the year he's not in your classes, but he makes sure to send you secret messages from the garrison. He tells you how amazing it is, and how much he's learning, and how great everyone there is. It makes you feel a little bit lonely, because you're stuck in a plain, average world while you best friend is off having the time of his life.- But when you show up at the garrison the next year, everything is as it should be. You and Matt are back together, you're working hard, and your future is bright.- Your re-meeting was strange, though. You got along with Matt as splendidly as ever, but he was just. Gentler towards you? He stood closer to you than he used to, and often had a hand somewhere on your person - your shoulder, your wrist, the small of your back. Sometimes, from the corner of your eye, you'd see him smiling softly at you. Not that you minded any of this.- In fact, you reveled in the attention.- When Matt gave you the news that he'd be going on the Kerberos mission, you were nothing short of proud. You saw how hard he worked, and you knew how brilliant he was. This was an incredible opportunity, and he deserved it more than anyone.- On the day of his departure, you gave him a simple silver necklace, with a square locket dangling from the center. "So you don't forget about me! But you can't open it until you're in space, okay?". You made sure that he promised.- You said your farewells, your hug lingering a little longer than what could be considered platonic. For a moment, you wondered if you should just tell Matt what was in the locket. But no, that would ruin the surprise, and you didn't want to risk rejection before your best friend left for over a year.- Months later, you got the news that the entire Kerberos team had been killed, and you couldn't believe it. Shiro, and Sam, and Matt, were three of the smartest people you knew. They wouldn't have made a mistake. - So you ran to the Holt's house to try and learn the truth, but you only found Pidge and her mom, crying in each other's arms. As soon as you were pulled into the hug, you cried too. Cried for your best friend, cried for the person you loved.- For weeks, you felt empty. Nothing mattered anymore. When Matt died, it was like your happiness went with him. What was the point of having a future if he wasn't in it?- You were completely devoid of hope. Until one day, Pidge showed up at the garrison under an alias. From that moment on, you did everything in your power to help her. The evidence she had suggesting the Kerberos team was alive was astounding.- You never lost hope after that. Even through all the space battles and wounds and combat training and goo-maker malfunctions, you never stopped looking for Matt.- And one day, you wandered out of your bedroom in the castle, still in your pajamas and barely awake. All the paladins were gathered in the common room, and at the center of them was an excited Pidge...and Matt.- Matt. MATT.- You caught his gaze over Pidge's head, and it was like the world around you stopped. - The next thing you knew, you were sobbing in his arms, holding onto him for dear life while he stroked his thumb over the nape of your neck. He kept you in a hug until your breathing had slowed and your tears had dried.- Then, you noticed the silver chain that still hung around his neck, and your entire face burst into flames.- "You, um...you kept it? Even after all this time?"- "Of course I kept it. You gave it to me. It...it helped keep me going. It reminded me of what else I had to come home to."- Somehow, you manage to blush even more. "So...you read my message inside the locket, then?"- Matt nodded and -for someone who's such a goddamned goof- placed the gentlest, sweetest, softest kiss on your lips, "I love you too."- You turn into mush.- You guys are sappy as fuck, and everyone pretends you're a gross couple. But honestly you're so perfect for each other it hurts. Pidge is pretty chuffed about your relationship.

ALLURA

- So, your parents and her parents were pretty good friends. That alone meant you'd have many chances to see each other as children. You were also born within the same year, so your age was another fact you had in common.- Honestly though, you're pretty easy to get along with. You were loyal and agreeable - the calm to Allura's storm. As small children, you spent your days playing in the flower fields, or having picnics together with your families.- As you got older, and Allura's responsibilities and obligations grew, you drifted. But not for long. You refused to let your friendship slip away. Even at nine years old, you were headstrong and determined. You marched straight up to Allura's father one afternoon, completely forgetting that he was the literal king of your planet, and demanded he let you join the royal guard.- "I need to protect Allura from bad people!" you had explained, even though you knew she could take care of herself. Your parents were embarrassed by your indignancy, but King Alfor had just laughed at your angry little pout and patted your head.- You had been far too young to join the guard, but with your parents' permission, he agreed to let you begin training under some of the senior officers.- You matured a little slower than Allura, since you weren't under the same kinds of pressures she was when it came to your social status and expectations. But over time you became level-headed and well-versed in Altean politics, often sitting in on some of your best friends' classes at the request of the King. (And after your classes, you'd study together and grumble that politics were kind of boring).- You didn't know why you were getting all this special training, but if it meant you got to spend time with Allura, then you were happy.- It wasn't until you were fourteen that you learned the truth. You had sneaked out of bed to get a drink, when you heard your parents whispering in another room. So you hid just outside the door and listened.- Your mother was worried that you were going to get stressed, and your father was assuring her that you were alright. Your lessons were doing a good job of preparing you for your future, without putting too much weight on your shoulders. Your mother had argued that being the future Left-Hand to the Princess of Altea was a lot of stress for a fourteen year-old child.- You didn't hear the rest of the conversation after that, because you'd slipped away back up to your room.- You sat down on your bed, and immediately called Allura on a visual-audio device she'd gifted you.- The two of you had sat up for hours afterwards, talking about what you'd heard your parents saying, and what that meant for your friendship.- "Y/N, it means we'll get to be friends forever! I couldn't imagine my life without you in it, and now you'll be here with me." - You were grateful that she had so much faith in you, and in return you worked your hardest so you could support her as a Left-Hand should.- Fast forward ten thousand years, when you, Allura, and Coran are awoken from the pods.- You had vague memories of Alfor telling you that you needed to fulfill your duties to Altea, and go with Allura into the pods. "When she awakes, however far in the future it may be, she will need as much love and support as she can get."- Everything that had happened only ended up pushing you and Allura closer together. With your people and planet gone, she and Coran were the only family you had left.- So you stand proudly by Allura's side, assisting her with anything and everything, and helping her remain strong. You laugh with her, and share her sorrows. You protect her when she needs it, and help her carry the weight of her hatred and anger. You do what you can to make sure she never feels alone.- You don't start seeing each other exclusively until a few weeks after the new paladins were chosen.- The two of you were milling around the control deck, trying to get the castleship back in order. Out of nowhere, Allura pulled you into a hug and thanked you. "You've been by my side for my entire life, and never once have I expressed my gratitude for it."- You assured her that she didn't need to thank you for your loyalty and kindness. She was your best friend, and you loved her dearly. She had always been the one person you could turn to in troublng times, and you trusted her with your life.- For a few seconds, you just sort of stared into each other's eyes. Then you both moved in, sharing a soft, sweet kiss.- And Coran is just kind of on the other side of the room, smiling about how wonderful it is that even after so much destruction and death, there is still happiness and love to be found.- You and Allura are the physical manifestation of 'hold my flower', 'kick his ass baby, I got your flower'. No seriously. She's a paladin, and you've been training most of your life to protect your Princess. You guys kick ass.

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squirenonny · 7 years ago

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Clone Shiro Theory in Season 5

Okay, so this mess was inspired by talking with several people on Tumblr and discord about the Clone Shiro Theory in the wake of Season 5, as well as seeing posts in the fandom tags. And...I’ve noticed some common themes in arguments against this theory.

Please note that this is not meant to be a direct rebuttal to anyone, more... working out for myself why I’m so convinced that Shiro is a clone because I’ve got all these nebulous thoughts running around in my head and I need to organize them somehow. So feel free to read, respond, reblog, ect, but also feel free to ignore this completely if Clone Shiro isn’t your thing.

Season 5 spoilers and a very long post under the cut.

I’m going to break this down into three parts:

I. Why a clone and not something else (mind control, magical spyware, ect)

II. Why I won’t accept anything but clones at this point without crying foul

III. Clone Shiro vs Galra Keith

I. Why a clone?

I think at this point there’s no way to deny that something happened to Shiro in Operation Kuron. We’ve seen Haggar spying through him, the headaches are a recurring theme, and his behavior has changed to the point that he’s going behind his team’s back and lashing out at the team in ways he hasn’t before.

With most of the proof, you can make several arguments. Haggar’s mind-controlling him directly, but he still is Shiro. Haggar’s spyware is giving him headaches that’s making him more testy than usual, but he’s still acting under his own free will. Ect. But I think there is enough evidence to give the clone theory specifically an edge over other explanations.

Shiro’s hair grew roughly a foot during his captivity between seasons 2 and 3. There’s no clear answer on how long this was, but it seems like a fairly short time period. At the start of the season, Keith is still raw over Shiro’s disappearance, and though they’ve done a few missions without Shiro, they haven’t run up against anything that required Voltron. Which... considering how often they form Voltron both before and after this period, suggest to me that we’re talking a time frame of weeks at the longest. Then episodes 1-3 happen in pretty quick succession, with the lion switch and Keith immediately charging off, almost out of spite. We pick up with Shiro a day or two before episode 3 (which is where Shiro finds Voltron and then loses them.) He spends another week chasing them before Keith and Black find him. All told, this is probably in the realm of one month since his disappearance, maybe two. For reference, human hair grows on average half an inch per month. Shiro is shown to have significantly more hair growth in this time frame than anyone else gets in the entire series--even people who have been prisoners for extended amounts of time. Matt and Sam each get maybe a few inches, and Shiro’s hair was kept short during his stint in the Arena. This tells me that Shiro’s hair growth for The Journey is not an artist’s exaggeration to show that he’s had it rough. If it is, then it’s sloppy, and the animators on this show are typically pretty attentive to detail. If this is intentional, I can only conclude that Shiro has been in captivity for far longer than the timeline allows and/or the clone was grown in a short time and the accelerated growth also affected his hair.

Calling attention to the difference between Shiro(s1-2) and Shiro(s3+). These, I’ll admit, are more suspicious than damning, but they’re worth mentioning. The animators made a deliberate decision to give Shiro a new look after his return. We’ve seen people in different outfits, and Allura has a few different hairstyles (up, down, mice poofs), but no one has changed their “default” outfit like Shiro has, only their armor or other special outfits (pajamas, swimsuits, ect), and no one has gotten a new haircut, except Pidge (in backstory, as a plot point) and Sam and Matt (compare to Shiro on the Kerberos mission vs post-escape in s1.) They want you to be able to tell the difference between Shiro 1 and Shiro 2. At the same time, they call attention to this change by having Shiro comment about his “weird headache.” The writers also made a point of having the Galra refer to Shiro differently in the context of Operation Kuron (Subject Y0XT39 vs Prisoner 117-9875.) From a writing standpoint, this is a strange choice--not necessarily significant, but likely so because both designations are mentioned in passing and without context, so tossing both out there without reason is more confusing than world-building. And in-universe, it tells us that the people in charge of Operation Kuron couldn’t or didn’t want to refer to prisoners by their already-assigned number. Possibly this is for internal organization--i.e. if not all subjects were prisoners or if they had completely random prisoner numbers. But if it is clones, they would need new ways to identify them, since they’d all have the same prisoner ID. Again, not proof, but suspicious.

Shiro appeared in the Voltron bond. And it seems as though the Shiro with the team didn’t. Not just his head is fuzzy about it. He wasn’t there. Did you notice how Shiro-in-the-bond was translucent, only seen from a distance, and almost completely lacking in detail in the head area? Maybe to obscure the fact that he has his old haircut (both from us and from Lance)? Did you notice that he didn’t appear with everyone else, and how desperate he was to communicate with his team? There are two Shiros. The only question is whether the distinction is physical (clones) or mental (mind control with the real Shiro’s mind completely suppressed by Haggar’s persona)

Following up on this point, Shiro himself is questioning things. If this was a case of mind control, of Haggar taking over Shiro’s body, there is no way she would allow her puppet to question his own identity. If she has direct control, she certainly wouldn’t mention it to Lance, and if the real Shiro is still in there waiting to take his body back, she absolutely would put safeguards in to make sure her controlled personality stays in place.

And of course, the single biggest argument in favor of Clone Shiro: Operation Kuron = literally, “Operation Clone.” This can’t be a coincidence. It can’t. With everyone working on the show (how many of whom are anime fans and have at least a rudimentary familiarity with Japanese pronunciation?), and with Lauren Montgomery having talked about how Laith is a much better ship name for Keith and Lance, because Laith means Lion, I do not believe that they accidentally chose a name for this major plot point that means “clone” in Japanese (which is either Shiro’s native language or at least connected to his heritage.) I also don’t believe that it was chosen as a red herring to make us think this is all about clones when it really isn’t, because the target audience (which is, what 8-12 year olds?) will not pick up on that hint. It fails as a distraction for the core demographic, which makes me think it’s far more likely that it was meant as an easter egg and the writers didn’t necessarily intend for people to pick up on it. It’s like... This post about English name symbolism in FMA. It’s a clever nod to character traits for people who are in the know, but then you give that same name to an English speaker and it’s almost laughably on the nose. For people who don’t speak Japanese (most of Voltron’s audience) and don’t have social media to point it out (unfortunately, comparatively little of the fanbase), “Operation Kuron” is a subtle nod. In a novel, where people likely won’t engage with the fandom until they’re finished, it would work. Hell, for people not actively engaged in fandom, it works. The problem is that we’ve had months upon months and the power of the internet, so now everyone knows that JK Rowling named her werewolf Wolfy McWolfenstein the Galra named their secret clone project Project Clone. That isn’t bad writing. It’s perfectly fine writing tossed to the wolves of a global fandom that loves to theorize.

(Also, I was curious, so I checked, and “Operation Kuron” is called the same thing in the Japanese dub, so lol if it’s not clones, Dreamworks is going to have some explaining to do.)

II. Why having the answer be “Not Clones” at this point would be bad writing

Okay, see, this is way more subjective than part I, which was already pretty subjective. But here’s the thing. Dreamworks has set up Clone Shiro, almost blatantly so. I can forgive the fact that this twist is obvious to the Tumblr fandom, at least, because (a) the show is for kids, so the foreshadowing has to be a little bit more obvious, and (b) you cannot judge subtlety based on thousands of people working together to figure things out. Most of the fandom figured out Galra Keith before season 2 dropped. Some people hated it, but then, some people were incredibly resistant to the Clone Shiro Theory--still are. It feels like everyone and their grandmother figured these twists out way in advance, but if you took away the part where we all screamed about it and laid out our arguments? If you somehow reached out to the viewers who aren’t involved in fandom? I’ll bet you good money that a lot fewer of them have picked up on the hints. (And if they have, they aren’t nearly as certain about it.)

But if we get to season 6 and suddenly find out Shiro has been Shiro all along, just with magic in his head letting Haggar watch him? I’m going to be disappointed, because that resolution is almost guaranteed to leave plot holes. How did Shiro get recaptured/how did he disappear from the Black Lion in the first place? Why did his hair grow so fast? What’s with the change in behavior (I’m not talking about the snappishness and arguing with Keith and Lance, I’m talking about directly undermining the very teamwork he’s been the single biggest proponent of from the start by going behind the team’s back again and again)? Why didn’t Black accept him at first? Why did he have to prove himself to her again, after they’d been more closely bonded than anyone? Why was the project named Operation Kuron? Why did Shiro see another, hollow-looking, him on the exam table in that flashback? Why hasn’t he used the bayard yet?

The show might explicitly answer some of these, but I think we all know by now that it won’t slow the pace long enough to explain all of them. The clone theory explains or implies answers to almost all of these (especially if you couple it with “the original Shiro is stuck in the astral plane” or some such.)

So, no. Clone Shiro isn’t a twist at this point. Maybe it’s just me, because I’m usually pretty good at picking up on foreshadowing and figure out most twists ahead of time, especially if I’m given time to ruminate. But I’m fine with not having big, shocking reveals. Something doesn’t have to be a surprise to be interesting. I don’t have to feel like I was clever for figuring it out. I can’t wait for season 6 because I’m desperate to know that both my sons (Shiro and Ryou) are going to be okay--because I think, at least, that the Shiro with the team right now is not being set up as a villain. He may become a martyr, but he’s meant to be sympathetic, regardless of where he came from.

In the end, I don’t mind that the Clone Shiro Theory seems obvious, because the foreshadowing is aimed at kids and the adult fandom is bound to pick up on those hints faster. And clones explain everything so well that I honestly don’t think any other answer would make for a satisfying conclusion to the Kuron arc.

III. Clone Shiro vs Galra Keith

Okay, now this is interesting, because these are the two main theories that the fandom swarmed. One turned out to be true, and I honestly think the other will be proven right in June.

Also interesting is that, in terms of episode count, they both are paced about the same. It’s just that the Galra Keith plot happened over the course of 1.5 full seasons, while the Operation Kuron plot is going on 3.5 half seasons. Same number of episodes, but more spread out and with more breaks in between. Galra Keith was dropped into a single seven-month gap with a growing fandom and then confirmed immediately with the next batch of episodes. Operation Kuron was introduced in August, fans jumped on it, season 4 dropped, the fandom was split on it (because, admittedly, s4 didn’t add anything to the argument that couldn’t be explained by trauma and/or mounting pressure on Shiro), fans wrote a shitton of Ryou hcs/fic and drew a lot of Ryou art, season 5 dropped, with major new developments but no confirmation, and now we’ve got another break. At the earliest, it will be confirmed or debunked in June, a full ten months after it was first hinted, and with three season breaks for people to theorize, create fanworks, and otherwise dig into Camp Clone.

Can you imagine if the first two seasons had been done like that? (Note: I know I’m fudging the midpoint of season 1 a little bit, but bear with me here. I want to do a thought experiment.)

Season 1: We get hints of Keith’s knife and the major red flag of Keith opening doors that have been implied to be species-locked, so Hunk has to use a Galra arm to get past one door in the same episode Keith uses Galra tech with no problems. There’s also the word of god that says Keith is an orphan, so speculation runs wild. The fandom is split, with a small but vocal group on Team Galra, a vocal opposition, and a whole bunch of people on Team “Can’t we just wait and see what the writers have in mind, guys? We don’t have to fight!”

Season “2″: Little movement on Galra Keith Theory specifically, and both sides have arguments for what little we do get. Are those purple patches the effect of Galra heritage or is that supposed to tell us Quintessence does freaky things? Does Zarkon’s, “You fight like a Galra soldier,” mean anything (and is there a comma there/does that change the meaning? I can only imagine the comma drama if that had been one of the only new points for debate after three months.) The only major development is explicit confirmation of the species lock on Galra tech. All this is exacerbated by growing concerns in the autistic fanbase who worry that Team Galra Keith is starting to twist the legitimate autistic traits to support their own theory. (Believe me, I was there, and I was scared of Galra Keith for a good long while because of this.) The debate starts to turn bitter.

Season “3″: Ulaz shows up, we see Keith’s knife, we have Keith worrying that Zarkon “imprinted” on him, and though nothing comes of that, it still says something that the writers are even willing to acknowledge the theory. The season ends with no clear answer, but by now most of the fandom is on Team Galra. There’s been fic. There’s been art. There are headcanons and metas galore. The evidence is all laid out, and there’s really no denying it at this point. Some people are angry about it, and lots of people are hoping for Altean Keith or something, just because it would still be a surprise.

Season “4″: The Galra Keith reveal happens in episode one or two, and literally no one is shocked. Some people are angry, everyone is pissed that there wasn’t more fallout after four seasons of buildup. But we all knew it was coming.

Think, in contrast, how the Clone Shiro Theory might have gone if we hadn’t switched to half seasons. (In a hypothetical world where the theory is true, and it’s getting revealed next season.)

Season 3 now covers everything through Naxzela. Operation Kuron is huge in fandom discussion, but it’s partially overshadowed by everything else that happened--Keith joining the Blade, Lotor’s offer of talks, Keith’s near sacrifice, Matt’s return... Fewer people are as adamant about the clone theory because we’ve already seen Shiro back in the Black Lion and fighting alongside the team. There are lingering doubts, and people still lay out all their arguments, but it’s less splitting hairs and more the broad range we saw with Galra Keith, from adamant arguments on either side to a broad, casual fanbase in the middle who doesn’t know if it’s gonna happen and honestly couldn’t care less but sure as hell likes to play around with the idea. Like with Galra Keith, there is some evidence that’s either straight-up confirmation or lazy writing (Keith opening doors vs kuron meaning clone) but for the most part people are still uncertain.

Season “4″ drops and hits us all hard with new evidence. People are getting behind the Clone Shiro Theory in earnest now, but somewhere near the end of the season it’s confirmed, forestalling another round of theorizing. Lots of people are caught off-guard, lots of people are edge-of-their-seats “Holy crap, is that actually true??” The major, irrefutable pieces of evidence (Ulaz, Keith’s knife, his nightmares vs Shiro lying to the team, Haggar’s spying, Shiro calling out to Lance in the bond) are immediately followed up by confirmation.

Can you see how the spacing of the episodes drastically changes the perception of the theory? In all honesty, Galra Keith and Clone Shiro feel extraordinarily similar in terms of pacing, evidence, and alternate explanations--it’s just that Keith’s story happened much quicker, in fandom time. I can’t fault the writers for that. I just think half seasons were a bad idea, especially when the show was clearly written with full seasons in mind.

TL;DR Version:

There’s enough evidence that specifically points to clones that I’m 99% convinced that Shiro is a clone at this point. That last 1% is reserved for skepticism because, while I don’t believe the writers could provide me with a different explanation that fits as well as clones, they might try in the name of pulling one over on the viewers.

Galra Keith and Clone Shiro are set up in a very similar manner, and the latter suffers primarily from half season releases and a fandom who knows what tricks to look for.

The fact that the show is geared at a younger audience and so isn’t going to be super subtle is not a mark against it, but unfortunately if you’re active in the fandom, there’s a good chance you’re going to see a solid argument re: upcoming plot twists that spoils the surprise.

#voltron #voltron season 5 #operation kuron #shiro #kuron #voltron meta #voltron spoilers #season 5 spoilers

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scriveyner · 7 years ago

Text

shining like the stars, p99

“So,” Hunk said, his face coming up on the screen to Lance’s left. “Who wants to say it? I don’t want to be the one who says it, I always say it and then you all make fun of me.”

Read on AO3 or continue after the jump:

“Hunk,” Shiro said firmly through the comm. Lance smirked a little, because it was the slightly-exasperated tone of voice that he knew all too well and for once it wasn’t directed at him. “No one needs to say anything.”

“Really? Because I’m really feeling it.”

“Hunk, buddy,” Lance said. “It’s fine. Things are cool.” He leaned forward in his chair, hands resting on the controls of the Blue Lion, and things felt … normal. So normal … well, as normal as things could be when you were flying a giant, frighteningly sentient ancient alien weapon through relatively uncharted waters in the hopes of luring out the Galra cruiser that had jumped into system six hours ago and had yet to engage. It was refreshing to be back in action, just him and Blue - okay, and everyone else, too.

“Still no transmissions from the cruiser?” Shiro asked, and Allura’s voice came through the comm.

“Nothing. They’re sitting just beyond the planetisimal cloud.” Allura sounded just barely worried. They had lain in wait for two days, not moving from the system of their initial wormhole jump based on Shiro’s gut feeling that they were being followed. It did seem strange that the Galra hadn’t pursued them immediately, but they had wormholed out of the system, and apparently caused a great deal of damage to the cruisers, and the frigate’s core engine block. “I can barely get a reading on the ship at all.”

“And this isn’t worrying anyone else?” Hunk said. “Because I’ve got a bad feeling, man…”

Pidge, Lance and Matt managed to make a chorus of groans that liberally drowned out the rest of whatever Hunk was saying. “Don’t say that,” Matt’s voice was slightly broken up, coming from the Castleship, while Pidge said at the same time; “Hunk, if you fucking jinxed us…”

Shiro let the banter go on for a few moments longer, clearly working something out or just speaking on a private comm channel to Keith, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Not that he dug into Hunk as much as Lance and Pidge did, but he usually offered some input, even if it was just a grunt of disgust. Lance flipped over his system to Blue’s private comm channel and drew up alongside the Red Lion, who he was flying in loose formation with anyway. “You okay, bud? You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Keith said. His reply was curt and to the point, which wasn’t entirely out of line for him when they were flying into a potential threat. After a moment though, there was a sigh through the open line and Keith’s voice sounded more open. “Thanks for checking on me, Lance.”

“No problemo, my man,” Lance flipped back to the main comm line in time to hear Shiro say, with intense exasperation, “Matt.”

“What?” Matt sounded like he was playing intentionally innocent.

Dammit, sounded like he missed something potentially hilarious. Lance made a mental note to ask Matt later what he had said, as Coran spoke up. “It appears that the Galra cruiser has warped out of system.”

There was a brief moment of stunned, surprised silence, and then Hunk said with total and legitimate enthusiasm, “yay!”

“Okay…” Keith said. “That’s really weird. Why would they hang out at the edge of the system, not engage, and then bolt?”

“They probably got a read on their sensors for all five Lions,” Pidge said. “Maybe they left some snooping satellites or something, we should totally make a pass through the planetisimals just to be on the safe side.” Pidge sounded far too enthused about flying through what amounted to a larger, slower asteroid field so she definitely had some form of ulterior motive. Lance wasn’t going to lose sleep over what that could be, though, because there was honestly no telling.

“I’ll go with Pidge,” Keith said. “Our Lions are the fastest, we can do a quick pass and scan for anomalies and see if the Galra cruiser left us any presents behind.”

Shiro radioed his assent, and Lance watched as the Red and Green Lions, the arms of Voltron, shot across space and were nothing but mere dots on his screen in a heartbeat. The Lions could move stunningly fast, and they would be to the edge of the star system in minutes. Lance glanced at his sensors and realized that Hunk was already flying back toward the Castleship. “And where are you going?”

“Uh…” Hunk didn’t bother popping on visual this time. “Well, if the cruiser’s gone there’s no need to form Voltron, right? No need for all of us to just, um, hang around and burn fuel.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Lance said, leaning forward in his seat and grinning. The Yellow Lion hung in space unmoving, waiting for pronouncement at being caught shirking. “And I bet this has absolutely nothing to do with your hot Altean girlfriend waiting for you, right?”

“Lance!” Hunk’s voice gained an octave. “She is not my girlfriend!”

“Oh, I’m not?” Illianya’s voice came through the comm, sounding amused, and Lance saw the Yellow Lion roll completely over, as if dead. They were still on the public comm channel, Lance hadn’t bothered to switch over to private. Oh well, if his buddy wanted to air his private laundry all over the open channels, who was he to stop him, after all?

“Can we not use the public channel for this?” Keith asked, and Pidge snickered. Shiro just sighed.

“It’s okay,” Lance said. “I think Hunk has died of embarrassment anyway.” He flew Blue around Yellow once, in a loop. Yellow was still belly-up, although that was relative, in space.

“Enough,” Shiro said, and Lance obediently resumed formation with the Black Lion. After a minute or so to recover, Hunk joined them. “Pidge, Keith,” Shiro said. “See anything?”

“Just … planetisimals,” Pidge said, sounding disappointed for some reason. “No calling cards. Do you really think that they popped into system, saw all of the Lions, and noped out? I can’t tell if that’s awesome or disappointing.”

“I think it’s awesome,” Hunk said. “Let’s let our reputation do more of the heavy lifting. Save our backs. Voltron’s back. Whatever.”

“I don’t trust it,” Allura mused.

“Think it’s a trap?” Shiro said. “We could always follow the exit vector.”

“That is definitely a trap,” Keith said, and Lance agreed although he was quite sure that they could handle anything the Galra decided to throw at them … together, at least. Keith sounded profoundly disappointed in Shiro, though. “They’re probably waiting one system over with particle canons and tractor beams to disable us and capture Voltron.”

“That seems a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Lance said.

“The Galra don’t have to do clever, they just flatten down any resistance with the full force of their army’s resources,” Matt said. “They’ve been ruling for literally thousands of years with minimal resistance, if brute force doesn’t solve the issue some of those cruiser commanders are out of their depths.”

“Hm,” Shiro said, clearly considering it. “Princess?”

“No,” Allura said. “I don’t feel the need to risk Voltron for just one measly Galra cruiser. Everyone, return to the ship. We’ll wormhole from here - if they tracked us this far, we’ll see if they track us any farther.”

“Copy that,” Lance said, twitching Blue back around toward the Castleship. He heard the others acknowledge as well; and, not surprisingly, the Yellow Lion beat them all back to the ship despite having the slowest overall speed. Lance made another mental note, this time to definitely give Hunk a hard time about that, as he brought Blue home.

They wormholed four times before Coran put a stop to it, citing both wear and tear on the teludav and, more importantly, on Allura. “We’re halfway across the galaxy from Eaphus,” Coran said busily, his hands on Allura’s shoulders to steer her off the bridge. “There is no need for you to wear yourself to the point of exhaustion!”

“So, now what?” Lance asked, slumped back in his flight couch and arms crossed. “We’ve done four jumps, there’s no way that they’re still tracking us through that, especially since that second one was so…” he gestured his hand in the air for illustrative purposes.

“Haphazard?” Pidge suggested.

“Aren’t there like, navigation charts that are supposed to be consulted before she does that? What if she dumps us out into the center of a star or something?”

Keith sat forward in his seat, leaned slightly to the left. Shiro hadn’t gotten up from his seat yet either, and still had several of the holographic displays open in front of him. “So what is the plan?” he asked, primarily directing the question at Shiro.

“I vote nachos,” Lance said, ticking off the options on his fingers. “Then, popcorn… and finally, movie night. In that order, or course.”

“I don’t know if I can make goo popcorn,” Hunk mused, doing a mental inventory of the Castleship’s larders.

“Please don’t use goo as a modifier for real food,” Matt said.

“Popgoo?” Hunk suggested.

“Okay, no, that’s worse,” Matt said, as Pidge cackled from her seat. “That’s much, much worse.” He had moved to Coran’s station when the elder Altean had escorted Allura off the bridge; and while he hadn’t actually touched any of the controls he was snooping all over them very thoroughly.

Keith got up and actually walked to Shiro’s seat, since his voice had been absent the entire conversation. He was staring intently at his screen, which was scrolling Altean characters very quickly; and it had opened a condensed star map of the local systems in a separate window. “What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Shiro glanced to him. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, tapping his fingers against his arm in a certain pattern that Keith remembered all too well. Shiro’s most notable tell. One of these days he’d have to let Lance in on that particular tick, but … not today. Keith put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and leaned forward, smiling thinly.

“You can’t fool me,” he said, his voice low, and Shiro sighed in a slightly melodramatic fashion, and then squinted at Keith suspiciously.

“The half-breed thing doesn’t lend itself to telepathy or anything, right? You’d tell me if you could read minds.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow at him instead of answering, and Shiro shifted in his seat, unfolding his arms and pointing to the star chart. “This system,” he said, and when his finger brushed the system in question it lit bright on Shiro’s screen, showing the size of it. Keith frowned at the display, the system was labeled “Darpen” and nothing else.

“What about it?” he said, as Shiro folded his arms again, a look of concentration on his face.

“It’s familiar,” he said, and the irritation was clear in his voice that he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.

“Hey,” Pidge said, from Shiro’s other side. They both glanced to her. “Lance has convinced Hunk to make space nachos. Unless you need us?”

Shiro shook his head. “We’re clear for now, and Matt-” Matt froze, halfway up the bridge, “has so generously offered to take bridge duty while Coran is assisting Allura.” Matt’s shoulders slumped comically, although he shuffled back toward Coran’s workstation without a word of complaint.

“I’ll bring you some nachos later,” Pidge said, with a wave to her brother before bouncing off. Shiro sighed and sat forward, dismissing the holographic displays but not rising from his seat immediately. He looked to Keith, and Keith returned his gaze, level and unaffected.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a little while longer,” Shiro said, and stood. He headed for the control station where Allura usually stood; which would allow him to use the larger star maps. “Figure out our next course of action.” He placed his right hand absently on the console, remembered what he was doing, and switched to his left hand.

“I’ll help,” Keith said, moving to stand at the edge of the holographic field as Shiro brought it up. Matt turned around, leaning back against Coran’s station, and watched them. Keith’s attention was on Shiro though, whose face had settled into a perplexed expression. “Unless you want to do this alone, although I really don’t know why you’d want to.”

Shiro gave a dismissive little shake of the head. “No, that’s fine,” he said. Another moment’s frustration and then he turned, looking down at Matt. “Does the Darpen system mean anything to you?” he asked, and Matt shook his head negatively.

“Never heard of it,” he said. He inclined his head toward the star-map, which highlighted both their present location and the system in question. “It’s only two systems over, right? Want to check it out?”

Shiro glanced over to Keith and Keith didn’t know what he was looking for, so he nodded his head. They weren’t being pursued - as far as they could tell, at least - and they were just going to drift until the new course of action had been plotted. Shiro nodded his head in response to Keith, then looked to Matt. “Yes,” he said. “Set a course for Darpen. Let’s see what we can see.”

Turned out, the Darpen system seemed like a whole lot of nothing. A dying star that hadn’t yet collapsed sat in the center of a system with few orbital bodies. “All scans report nothing of import,” Matt said. Keith had returned to his flight couch, looking at his own diagnostic displays. Shiro still had that unsettled look on his face, like he was waiting for a jump scare that would never arrive. “No habitable planets here.”

“No signs of life at all?” Keith said.

“No atmosphere detected on any of the rocks,” Matt said. He’d angled the Castleship to do a wide pass of the star, not wanting to get close enough to fight with the expanding gravity well. Something beeped, and Matt made an interesting noise. “I stand corrected.”

Keith sat up straighter, as Matt tossed some information up on the viewscreen. It was a planet … once. More than half the sphere was missing, and there was a planet-sized debris field spanning out from the remaining chunk. “What is that?” Keith said, as Matt threw more images up on the screen, one after another. At the farthest edges of the debris field there were ships. Not easily identifiable as Galra, though; they lacked the sleek lines and particular coloration that the flagships of the Galra Empire wore. No, these were junk ships, trader vessels, the remains of military ships whose rebellions were long since quashed. All scuttled in the graveyard of a planet. “What is this place?” Keith said, his voice a little strangled.

“Incoming transmission,” Matt reported.

“Incoming-?” Shiro said, and then looked to the main screen, where Matt had already thrown the relevant information. “The ship scan didn’t pick up any live vessels, right?”

“Incoming vessel,” the voice was rough, and set the little hairs on the back of Keith’s neck aloft. “Identiy yourself or be destroyed.”

Shiro’s voice was firm and commanding, the voice of a leader. “This is Takashi Shirogane, a Paladin of Voltron. We mean you and your people no harm. Are you in need of assistance?”

There was a long pause and Keith kept his attention on the ship’s sensors, listening for the whistle of a target lock. He’d raised the particle barried the moment they had been hailed as a precaution, but he could deploy his drone to help deflect incoming fire away from the shielding system if it came to that. Then, the audio window displayed on the viewscreen slid apart, opening to a video screen displaying a squat gray alien with three eyes and a shaggy brown beard shot through with silver. The alien was leaned in too close to the camera, distorting it slightly, but clearly trying to peer down its length to the other side. “Shiro?” the alien said, and Shiro’s expression was baffled.

“Yes?” he responded, his commanding voice slipping more back into his regular tone with confusion. “I mean, that’s me. I’m Shiro.”

Two heads popped behind the first alien; different aliens, Keith hoped, but sometimes it was hard to tell. There was a general background noise now, and one of the two additional heads said, slightly awed, “he came back!”

Shiro’s attention was wholly on the viewscreen, so Matt and Keith exchanged puzzled expressions. “I’m sorry, do you … know me?” Shiro said, his arms folded and brow furrowed.

“We weren’t expecting you to come back, we must celebrate this momentous occasion,” the alien said, and there was joy in its voice. “And with Voltron, nonetheless! Fantastic!” It leaned in even closer to the camera, obscuring the aliens behind it. “We have cleared an approach vector, avoid the Graveyard if you can.” With that, the transmission abruptly ended.

“We’re getting approach coordinates,” Matt said, staring down at the workstation. “It’s, uh…” he looked up at the viewscreen again. This time the image flickered, to beyond the debris field where one of the two oblong satellite moons sat in crooked orbit with the dead planet. Between the moon and the planet there were the familiar magenta-violet running lights of a Galra cruiser. “That.”

Keith was on his feet in an instant. “That is a Galra cruiser,” he said, as if that little fact had escaped the everyone else on the bridge.

“And it’s where the message definitely originated from.” Matt glanced to Shiro. “You got something you want to tell us, Shiro?”

Shiro shook his head, truly perplexed. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“That,” Rian said, leaning against the wall behind the long, curved couch in the ready room, “is a fucking stupid plan.”

“Okay,” Lance called. “Who taught him how to use fuck?” Pidge raised her hand and Matt smacked it, so she grudgingly lowered her hand.

“I agree with Rian,” Allura said, and Rian looked smug. “But I also do not see any alternative.” She was seated on the couch, at the far end and holding a tablet, frowning at the readout. “It’s not transmitting any Galra code?”

“None,” Matt said. “It’s not transmitting anything at all. No active energy signatures, no IF/F beacons, nothing. The only active comm blasts were our direct communication with it and the coordinates to safely navigate the Graveyard to the moon’s location.” He rubbed his arm with one hand, thinking out loud. “The engines don’t appear to be active at all, and if you look at the live shots only half the running lights are on. I think the ship’s dead in the water… so to speak.”

“Only running life support systems, then?” Illianya asked.

“Despite the threats to fire on us. That would be my guess.”

“And none of them seemed to be Galra,” Keith pointed out. “Outwardly, at least.”

“Remember that talk we had about traps?” Hunk said. “This feels, I don’t know, like a trap.”

“If we worry about every little thing being a trap we’ll just get paranoid,” Lance said. He leaned his elbow on the back of the couch and propped his head against his hand, raising his other arm. “I’m in, by the way. Not that anything good ever happens on a Galra ship.”

“You’re not in,” Keith said. “I’m going with Shiro, you can stay here with the ship.”

Storm clouds gathered on Lance’s face, and he sat forward. “Shiro,” he protested, and Shiro, standing at the open end of the long couch put his hands on his hips and sighed.

“I don’t like this plan any more than the rest of you,” he said. “But I don’t think Keith is enough on his own - that’s not a reflection on you, Keith, but I don’t know what it is we’re walking into.” Lance pumped his arm in victory and hissed a small yes through his teeth. “We’ll all go in one Lion, though. I don’t want to leave multiple Lions unattended.”

“Where do you want us then, Shiro?” Hunk asked.

“Ready to scramble,” Shiro said. He glanced at Lance and Keith. “Suit up. We’re going to see what this is all about.”

There might have been a small disagreement about whose Lion to take in the locker room that Shiro pointedly ignored because it was resolved with a game of rock-paper-scissors and he liked to pretend that his teammates had more mature ways to come to a decision. Keith won (“how are you so good at that game? I had to teach it to you!”) and the Red Lion left the Castle of Lions in the usual fashion

It was unnerving flying up on a Galra cruiser that was half-operational, even more so than the one they had found previously scuttled. Shiro kept expecting all the lights to flare up as it powered on and grabbed them in a tractor beam with no way to get free; but instead the Red Lion flew alongside the ship until they located the open loading bay door and landed with little fanfare.

There was no atmosphere in the loading bay. When they stepped off the ramp from the Red Lion, Shiro glanced around the nearly empty hangar. “Lance,” he said, “stay with Red.”

“...what?” Lance’s mouth fell open. “You brought me along to babysit the Lion?”

Keith held his fist to his face as if he were using a cough to smother a smile, which was real effective in a full helmet.

“If we need to make a quick escape, I would want my best set of eyes waiting to pick off any pursuit,” Shiro said.

Lance’s mouth closed and he straightened, chin tucked down and arms folded. He was clearly still upset, but that had slightly mollified him. “I’m running my playlist through Red’s speakers,” he announced, turning on the ball of his foot and marching right back up the loading ramp.

“Good luck with that,” Keith called after him, knowing full well that Red would spit Lance out as soon as they’d left the hangar.

There had been no one waiting in the hangar bay to greet them. There were still some Galra starfighters scattered about, but they looked different than the ones Shiro had grown familiar with. There weren’t nearly as many of the craft loaded up to launch, and several were lying on the hangar floor, cracked open and cannibalized for parts. Keith said nothing as they passed the wreckage, and it was a long walk to the end of the bay where they found the airlock and cycled through it.

Keith left his helmet on, although the bottom portion opened up once the suit diagnostics confirmed a breathable atmosphere in the ship. Shiro took his helmet off altogether, holding it in his left hand. “You okay?” Keith asked, and Shiro knew that was going to be a common theme on this mission.

Was he okay? That was a loaded question with a loaded answer, so instead Shiro simply nodded and they set off down the corridor. They had barely gotten to the T-junction when they both heard the clatter of many sets of feet and Shiro clenched his right hand, feeling the servos begin to heat. Keith had his bayard out, but untransformed.

Abruptly, eight or nine different aliens in a mixture of ragged clothing and Galran armor ran straight across their path, down the other hallway. Shiro and Keith held their positions for a moment, confused, before they moved quickly to the end of the hallway and looked down the path that the aliens had gone. The cluster had turned about and was heading right back for them so Shiro took a step back as the aliens slowed and finally stopped before them.

Not one of these aliens were taller than Shiro, or Keith for that matter. He recognized the species of two of them, one of the many-armed centipedal aliens and a shark-like alien who had fins that framed its ace. The rest were completely foreign to him, but that was all right because they clearly recognized him.

“The Champion,” a spindly alien that looked like its skin was made from tree bark said, in a distinctly feminine voice.

Ah. Things were starting to make a little bit more sense.

Keith hadn’t put down his bayard yet, but that didn’t surprise Shiro. He held his hand out still holding the helmet, in a stand-down gesture, and after a moment Keith relaxed his posture and dropped his weapon to his side. “You know me?” Shiro said, and the aliens chorused an affirmative. “What is this place?”

“It is the Graveyard,” the first one who had spoken said, raising its hand. It wore the helm and helmet of the Galra armor, but underneath that were the achingly familiar rags that all prisoners of the Empire wore. They gestured. “Come, Jan is impatient to see you, so that the ceremony can begin!”

The moment that Lance sat down in the pilot’s chair all of Red’s screens went dark. “Oh, come on,” Lance complained. “I’m not trying to fly you, honest. Don’t go blind out of spite.” He held up the orange rectangle that was his phone, he’d discovered that it fit well in one of his Paladin armor’s compartments. “I just want to listen to some tunes, you’re a good kitty, you like music, right?”

The viewscreens didn’t even so much as flicker. Lance sighed and slumped in the chair. “You’re so dramatic,” he complained. “Keith isn’t this dramatic.” He stood up and shuffled behind the pilot’s seat. The viewscreens turned back on and Lance stuck his tongue out at them. As much as he wanted to just sit there and observe, it did him no good if Red was going to be a horse’s ass about it and shut off all the surveillance without notice or cause. Instead of exiting the Lion down the ramp, Lance popped the exit on the head and climbed out that way, seating himself comfortably on the head of the Red Lion and giving himself a nice view of the entire abandoned hangar bay.

There was very little to look at, and Lance got bored of this very quickly. He put his hands on his ankles and leaned forward, squinting at the far end of the hangar bay. The comm traffic from Shiro and Keith was minimal at best; Shiro had clearly taken his helmet off and Keith had switched his off, the fucker. So Lance couldn’t eavesdrop on what was going on, he would just have to wait here until someone opened an active line to alert him that trouble was headed his way.

It was nice that Keith seemed to be very much himself again, he had been surprised how much he missed it. Lance tilted his head and without thinking about it laid his hand on the side of his neck, over the now-faded bruise where Keith had bit him. He’d bit hard, too, but the wound was all but healed, the flesh mended while he was in the cryo replenisher. Shiro’s claim mark had almost immediately scarred over, but Keith’s, the open wound, was nearly gone. Omegas can’t claim a partner.

He rubbed his neck again and then put his hand down. Sitting up here perched on the head of a Lion reminded him a little of an ocean of stars, and why he was making that connection he didn’t have any idea. “Wonder if I can connect with Blue,” Lance mused aloud, in part so that Red could hear him because without Keith to needle he could at least annoy his Lion by proxy. “I mean, she came running when I was in distress in the memory core, and we are like super in tune.”

“Lance, are you talking to yourself?” Keith’s voice came through the communicator, and Lance jumped despite himself.

“No,” he said. “I’m talking to Red. It’s a very private conversation, I’ll have you know.” He stuck both his legs out straight and folded his arms. “We’re going to be best buddies by the time you get back here.”

“Yeah, right,” Keith sounded slightly stressed, but more amused than Lance expected. “We’re gonna need backup, do you have a lock on my position in the ship?”

Lance touched his forearm plate, and it brought up a display that, after a brief moment of questionable interference, scanned the ship and determined the location of the nearest sets of Paladin armor. It painted a pair of dots on a level not terribly far from Lance, although the display jumped a few times. “Trouble?” Lance asked, standing up and realizing that Red had closed the top hatch of the Lion behind him.

“Not exactly. You’ll understand when you get here, though.” There was a pause, and a clunk, and some chattering voices distant in the background of the feed. “Please hurry.”

The hallways of the Galra ship started out very normal, but the farther that Lance got from the hangar, the more that changed. At first it was small patches of green and pale blue on the dark obsidian walls; Lance assumed it was paint until deeper into the ship where the green and blue had organically spread and … blossomed, in places; producing tiny violet and emerald-colored buds. Vines began appearing underfoot, which Lance only took notice of when he nearly wiped out. Keith had said it wasn’t trouble, but Lance had his bayard out and in blaster form just to be on the safe side.

Finally, when the corridor started to look less like a military hallway and more like Alice’s most radical entrance to Wonderland, two small aliens clad in rather creative clothing ran up to him. One was carrying a staff nearly as tall as Lance, it had to be three times the alien’s height; and the other was simply waving its short, stubby arms. “Uh,” Lance said, drawing up short and pointing the muzzle of his blaster at the ceiling.

“Paladin!” the one waving its arms said; it kinda reminded Lance a little of the Arusians but it lacked horns on its head. “I require your aid!”

“Um,” Lance looked up and down the hallway, and then down at the map hovering just slightly over his arm. He wasn’t far from the others. “What sort of aid?”

It waves its arms again in what on Earth would be described as a ‘pick me up’ gesture. Lance held his bayard down by his thigh, the armor automatically stored the weapon digitally when he did that. Then, with no regard to cultural differences or diplomacy, he picked the tiny alien up.

Its eyes went wide and Lance had the momentary worry of, oh shit what have I done when it wiggled out of his hands and somehow flipped itself, managing to climb onto Lance’s shoulders and set its hands atop the helmet on Lance’s head. “Grizalt!” the alien announced, and slapped Lance’s helmet twice.

“Hey, what-” Lance yelped, and the other alien pounded the butt of its weapon against the floor. “Grizalt!”

The alien who had hitched a ride on Lance promptly vaulted to the floor and took off down the hallway, chanting the same word rapidly. The second alien clumsily bowed to Lance and almost whacked him with their oversized stick, and then followed their companion down the hall.

“What the hell?” Lance said, completely baffled, as he turned a corner and found what used to be blast doors that were propped permanently open by a lavender-hued trunk. Lance sighed and proceeded to climb over the thick alien wood, and to his surprise that put him on a platform in a very large, open space.

It might have once been a training deck or a cafeteria, or even some kind of great hall where a lot of people were meant to gather together. However the high ceiling was completely obliterated. As Lance craned his head back, he could see that several floors above had been removed, all to make way for the growth of a large tree. It was a lighter color lavender than the trunk he’d just clambered over, and its branches had grown into the broken chunks of the old ceiling.

There was a carpet of planet life thick enough that the original floor was no longer visible; and aliens of all shapes and sizes flitted about. It looked like a gathering spot and as Lance scanned the levels he could see what must be living quarters constructed around the rims of the broken floors, the farther up it went there were ramshackle bridges and wires run across and between the levels.

“Lance!” Keith yelled, and Lance turned to see Keith one level higher than him, waving a hand over his head to catch Lance’s attention. Several o what must be thick vines or even possibly roots ran up to the second level and Lance picked his way higher, finding Keith standing at the edge with his hands on his hips and looking faintly amused.

“What the fuck is this?” Lance said, awed.

“A bunch of prisoners took over a ship,” Keith said. “And prospered, apparently.” He glanced down, looking at the bottom level where there were quite a few aliens at work, clustered around near the base of the tree.

“Where’s Shiro?” Lance asked, and Keith tilted his head, clearly trying not to look as amused as he was. Lance looked back over in the direction that Keith was indicating with his head to see Shiro practically swarmed with tiny aliens identical to the ones he’d had an encounter with in the hall and looking utterly harassed.

Lance turned his head back quickly and smothered his laugh with his hand. “He’s popular,” Lance managed after a moment. Keith nodded his head sagely, and Shiro apparently spotted Lance, because he extracted one arm to wave it above his head like a drowning man.

“Lance, help,” Shiro called plaintively. Lance looked at Keith, who shrugged.

“Seems kinda cruel to leave him like that,” Lance said. “Keith, I’m surprised at you.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow at Lance, missing the ironic sarcasm by a mile. Lance rolled his eyes and marched over to Shiro, which caused several of the small aliens to scatter and at least one to leap from a slightly higher elevation and land on Lance’s shoulders. “Yeah yeah,” Lance said. “Grizalt, I know.”

Abruptly, all the tiny aliens ceased swarming on Shiro, freezing in place. Lance stopped too. “Uh-oh,” he said just before the aliens all yelled “grizalt!” and swarmed him.

Shiro still looked harassed, but now he wasn’t covered in small aliens. Keith started laughing now, as Lance tried to claw his way upright. He pointed at Keith and tried grizalt on him but it didn’t seem to work that way. “That’s what you get for repeating things kids say to you,” Keith said, and Lance wasn’t entirely sure if that was aimed at him or Shiro. Probably both.

Suddenly, there was a loud cracking noise and the small aliens scattered. Lance finally flailed himself into an upright, if seated, position. “Can someone tell me what just happened?” he asked, but then realized what looked like the boss or an elder or something was coming down a staircase made from plant matter stretched along the wall behind Shiro. Shiro stood up, and Keith offered his arm to Lance, helping pull him to his feet.

The squat alien shuffled slowly until he stopped in front of Shiro with a frown, holding a long piece of metal that must have come from one of the support struts. It had been worn smooth and there were berries and flowers tied in a cluster at one end. When they blinked, all three eyes blinked out of sync. “It is you,” the alien said, and shook their staff. “Our Champion has returned to us, at last!”

They hadn’t noticed the hush that had fallen over the present aliens until their leader spoke, and when he shook his staff everyone cheered. Lance and Keith both looked out behind them, to see aliens of every size and shape clambering up to be on the same level that they were. There had to be at least two hundred of them.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said stiffly. “I really don’t remember …. I’ve been here, before?”

The alien paused, and then pointed to themself. “You do not remember me, Jan?” Shiro shook his head in the negative, and the alien’s expression seemed to grow darker. “You do not remember leading us?”

Keith’s eyebrow raised as Shiro shook his head again, sharper this time. “I’m sorry, no I don’t. I…” he gestured helplessly, and then looked back at Keith and Lance. Then he touched the side of his head. “My memories are all mixed up,” he said. “I’m missing a lot of them. The Galra…”

When he spoke the word Galra, a hissing sound rose among the crowd, and Jan waved his staff again. “Say no more,” he said magnanimously. “You and your friends are quite welcome here. Come, come, we have much to discuss.”

Pidge wandered onto the bridge, eating a plate of crispy, semi-translucent chips that Hunk had fried up. She wasn’t entirely sure how he was making food translucent and her desire to know the exact chemicals that the alien ingredients contained was at war with her ability to sleep peacefully at night, so the best distraction for that was other projects. She’d been looking for Matt and finally found him sitting at the Green Lion’s workstation on the bridge.

“What are you doing,” Pidge asked, holding a translucent chip between her brother’s gaze and the holographic display.

Matt blinked a few times, refocused on the item and took the chip, popping it into his mouth without even verifying that it was actually food going down his gullet. “Decrypting the information Keith sent back from the Red Lion,” he said. “The Galra ship’s not broadcasting credentials, of course, but it uploaded details when the Red Lion landed in its hangar bay. So I’m taking a look to see what we’re dealing with.”

“And?” Pidge asked, leaning over his shoulder and squinting at the display.

“I just got the IF/F and I’ve pinged it through the database of known Galra craft. It’s a prison ship that was decommissioned and scuttled.” He gestured at the display. “About five years ago, relatively speaking.”

“Weird that they scuttled it, instead of strip-mining the useful bits,” Pidge ate a handful of chips and crunched intentionally loud by Matt’s ear.

“They’re not desperate for resources,” Matt said, and pushed Pidge’s head away. “There really isn’t anything else useful in it, and when Keith radioed things seemed … all right. They’re not in danger, at least.”

“But,” Pidge prompted.

“But,” Matt said with a sigh. “Their leader knew Shiro.”

“Yeah, we heard,” Pidge said, as if the entire crew hadn’t been present for the briefing. She crunched for a moment more. “Wait. If the ship’s been there for five years, how does a presumably-shipwrecked crew of prisoners even know who Shiro is?”

Mattt nodded his head. “The time’s relative, though … worm-holing around could be messing with my calculations.”

“It’s still fishy,” Pidge said. She leaned forward and touched the call button on the console. “Hey, Allura? You might want to get up here, Matt’s found something you should see…”

Jan had an entire level to himself; the opening in the floor here was much smaller and only the very top bits of the canopy poked through. Along the edges of the hole in the floor, a fair bit of patchwork electronics were slaved into the main circuitry of the ship, and several of the consoles in the wall had been cleared of growth and were lit active, providing a dull magenta illumination or the room. “How are you keeping a tree alive in a spaceship?” Lance wondered, but his question was ignored by the alien.

“I admit, I am a bit disappointed that you don’t remember me,” the alien said, his voice gruff and distant. He stamped his staff against the floor in displeasure. “Damn those Galra beasts.”

“You said I helped you,” Shiro said slowly, looking around the room. It had clearly once been a high-ranking Galra soldier’s quarters, but aside from the inset consoles the remainder of the room’s fixtures had been completely cannibalized. “Helped you, how?”

“We escaped the prison ship together,” Jan said as he sat himself against a low table, holding his staff in both hands. “You helped a great deal of the prisoners get free, and instead of fleeing the ship into deep space and what was certain death, we took the ship for ourselves.” Jan looked quite pleased at this, but Shiro’s expression was mostly unreadable. Lance had slipped around the tree and was poking around the other side of the room, being nosy, but Keith stayed by Shiro’s side. “Sadly, the last act of some desperate engineers scuttled the ship’s system after our warp jump and destroyed the long-range communications array, leaving us to drift aimlessly until we were caught by the planet’s gravity well and pulled into orbit.”

“So you’ve been here, in orbit with this dead planet?” Keith said. “For how long, that tree is massive!”

“That it is,” Jan said, sounding slightly proud. “It is a kapili tree, and it provides us all the sustenance we require for such a small price.”

“And you say I helped with all this?” Shiro asked, quietly.

“Yes indeed,” Jan nodded firmly. “You took the last working shuttle on board, in the hopes of getting out of the system and finding us aid; and that you would return as quickly as you could!” He looked Shiro up and down, and there was something about the way he was looking at Shiro that left Keith feeling vaguely unsettled. Like he was a piece of meat. Jan smiled, but it was a thin, pained smile. “At last you have returned, but now … now I think it is better that we stay.”

“You’d rather stay on a dead ship?” Keith was incredulous to this idea. “Why? We can figure out how to get the warp drive running again, and get you out of the system in no time. Don’t you have families you wish to get back to?”

Keith’s thought was interrupted by the clatter of Lance stumbling over something in the background. Keith half-turned his head, irritated, while Lance hustled back over to them, looking as unsettled as Keith felt. “Lance.”

“It suits us here,” Jan said, unmoved by Keith’s words. “But,” he turned his attention back to Shiro, “it is good to see that you survived, Shiro. It warms my heart so. Perhaps you and your friends shall stay with us for the final grizalt?”

Shiro’s stoic expression twitched, just slightly; he’d clearly had all of grizalt that he could stomach. “It would be our honor,” he said. “But, Keith is right. I doubt our ship is large enough to accommodate everyone here, but we might be able to get this ship running again, at least enough to get you out of system. Are you certain you want to stay?”

Lance touched Keith’s arm and he looked over to Lance, still slightly irritated. However, Lance’s face was unusually serious. He shook his head negatively, and Keith lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, Shiro,” Keith said idly. “If we’re going to stay for this thing, I’m going to head back to Red to shoot off a message to the ship, let the others know we might be a little longer than originally planned.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary at all,” Jan said, in a tone that was beginning to make Keith twitch. “Grizalt does not … take very long.”

The strange pause was not lost on Keith, but Lance waved his hand in the air. “Nah, it’s fine,” Lance said. “We just gotta update them, last thing you want is some very angry Lions coming to check on their missing Paladins, blowing holes through walls and whatnot.”

That put the elder alien at an impasse, and with a frown he nodded his head. “Agreed,” he said, shortly. “We will wait for your return to begin the ceremony.”

Keith started down the stairs made of plant matter, but Lance lingered in place, staring at Shiro with a strange expression until Keith grabbed Lance by his shoulder and yanked him after.

“All right,” Keith said, once they were in the halls headed back toward the hangar bay and away from the aliens that inhabited the converted Galra cruiser. “What has gotten into you?”

“We have to get Shiro off this ship,” Lance said, and stopped walking. It took Keith two strides to realize Lance wasn’t keeping up with him, and he whirled on his heel and backtracked. “Right now.” Lance had half-turned like he was contemplating going back right now but he stopped himself and folded his arms instead.

“What? Why?” Keith asked, and put his hand on Lance’s arm to draw his attention back to Keith. “Lance, what are you talking about?”

“Everything about this place is wrong,” Lance said. “Wrong with a capital W Wrong.” He shivered. “We should ask that creepy alien what happened to the rest of the original crew, Keith. I bet he won’t have a good answer.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Keith said.

“A ship this size? Yeah, there are the drone soldiers for combat but,” Lance was thinking out loud and only half-paying attention to Keith. “What about the rest of the crew? The engineers, the personnel. Where did they go?”

“Lance,” Keith folded his own arms, aping Lance’s posture without thinking about it. “You’re reading too much into it. It’s weird, yeah, but these guys have been scraping out survival against the odds in a half-dead starship.”

“There were pelts, and bones stacked in piles on the other side of his room,” Lance said quietly. “With armor.”

Keith stared at Lance, and Lance shuddered again. “Am I seriously the only one getting like a, Wicker man vibe from all this? You don’t know Earth movies,” Lance continued that thought without stopping. “Have you ever watched a scary movie in your life?”

Very drolly, Keith said, “my life is a scary movie.”

“...that’s fair,” Lance didn’t unfold his arms; if anything it seemed like he kept trying to curl in on himself tighter. “Let’s just get Shiro out of here before this grizalt-whatever is going to happen because and I hate to be so cliche but my Bad Feeling About This has reached critical mass.”

Keith studied Lance’s face for a long moment, and then he nodded his head once. “All right,” he said. “I’ll trust your gut on this, Lance.” He started to open the comm channel but hesitated, and they both knew that Shiro was carrying his helmet and not wearing it. Keith and Lance exchanged a look and Keith said, “I’ll head back and think of some excuse to get Shiro out of there.”

“Yeah, and what am I supposed to do, stand around and look pretty?” Lance looked somewhat peeved. “It seemed weird that Jan didn’t want us to go back to Red, maybe you should check and make sure no one’s tried to fuck with her and I’ll grab Shiro and we can book it.”

Keith scowled and opened his mouth to fight Lance on this, then paused. “Red wouldn’t let you near her without me,” he said, and Lance grumbled a “no shit,” to his complete lack of surprise. “All right. Keep your comm open, it’s bad enough we can’t communicate with Shiro, if I lose track of you I’m sending Red through the side of the ship looking for you two.”

“My hero,” Lance said, dripping in sarcasm but Keith put his hand on Lance’s shoulder and they looked at each other, then tilted their helmets together so they clunked together softly. “Yeah, okay,” Lance said softly, and then they parted; Lance’s bayard appearing in his hand as he set off down the corridor at a brisk pace without looking back.

Keith watched him go, and when he hit the T-junction Keith turned and headed for the hangar.

When Lance got back to the main part of the ship he found Shiro now on the lower level and patiently entertaining the same herd of small aliens who seemed to think yelling ‘grizalt’ and tackling people was a game. Lance wasn’t quite certain that they were actually children, now, despite their diminutive size; but Shiro was playing with them nonetheless. He looked up when Lance approached and his expression seemed a little strange to Lance. “Where’s Keith?”

“With Red,” Lance said. He looked around for Jan, but while there were a plethora of milling aliens busily at work their leader was not obviously present. Lance kept his tone low anyway. “We need to leave, Shiro. Now.”

Shiro stared at him for a long moment, lips pursed. Then he shook his head. “That would be rude,” he said, flatly. “We’re not in any danger here, Lance. These are … my friends, I guess.”

“And I’m your mate,” Lance said. “Something’s not right, here.”

Shiro put his hand up, palm out, toward Lance. “That’s an order,” he said firmly. Lance’s shoulders stiffened and his bro furrowed, because Shiro’s voice carried with it a casual authority that prickled at his skin and he recognized the way the command sat with him; Shiro was the head and leader of Voltron, yes, but there was something dismissive of Lance there in the mix as well. Instead of being compelled by the order, though, it just made Lance angry.

He didn’t have a moment to express that anger, though, as the small aliens clustered around Shiro scattered quickly when the ambient lighting in the air changed. “Grizalt!” one of them yelled as they abandoned Shiro and hurried toward the base of the large tree that framed the entire space. Shiro stood and gave Lance a Look which, hoo boy they were going to have a Talk about later, and then followed the aliens.

Shiro stopped dead in his tracks, not far from where the floor dipped down, caved in under the weight of it all. There were thick lavender roots here, crawling up from the floor below, and many of the aliens used these roots to climb down beyond the lip of the collapsed floor. When Lance caught up to him, he saw exactly why Shiro had stopped in place, and without conscious thought Lance’s bayard manifested in his hands, already in rifle form. Shiro said quietly, “god dammit.”

There was a makeshift altar between two of the largest roots, with all sorts of indentations cast into the metal surface that lead right back to the kapili tree. Lance lifted his left arm slightly, the butt of his rifle cradled against his elbow. “Well, that looks a little too Temple of Doom for my tastes,” he said. “I suppose now’s not the best time to tell you that Jan had an extensive pelt-and-bone collection just, chilling in his room.”

The smaller aliens had all trickled through the crowd toward the front, already chanting the only word that they seemed to know. Two guards had entered at the far end of the room, dressed ridiculously in remnants of Galra armor that was far too big for them - however the weapons they had trained on the two prisoners between them were very real. The two prisoners were chained together, clad only in the traditional prisoner attire of the Galra Empire and wearing bags over their head. Lance’s attention went to them immediately, he flipped his blaster rifle up to his shoulder and used the scope to magnify his sight, but Shiro put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, causing him to drop position.

“To honor our friends,” Jan’s voice cut over the low chant of grizalt, and Lance and Shiro both looked to the altar. Jan had appeared there in a change of clothes, now wearing a dark hooded cloak paired with his staff. He gestured the staff toward Shiro. “And to honor our Champion!”

The aliens cheered. Shiro took a step forward, to the very edge of the lip before the indented floor sank toward the roots of the tree. “Whatever this is,” Shiro called, “you don’t need to perform it, on our behalf.”

“The tree needs its nutrients!” one of the aliens shouted from the crowd, and several more took up the chant. “The tree, the tree-!”

“We honor you with the last of our sacrifices,” Jan said. “We have waited long for your return.” One of the two prisoners was jabbed forward, the chain between them longer than Lance had realized.

“Shiro?” Lance said, rifle on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Keith’s voice buzzed in his ear. Shiro still hadn’t put his helmet on, but it was in both hands, now.

“I’ll explain later, you might want to prep Red for a quick exit,” Lance said, as Jan gestured at the crowd, hyping them up with the hypnotic waving of his staff.

“Yeah, no shit,” Keith said. “We’re ready to go. What’s happening there?”

“Jan,” Shiro’s voice cut through the noise. “Stop this. This isn’t necessary. Let these people go, and we’ll talk-” as he was speaking Jan reached up and grabbed the hood on the first prisoner’s head, yanking it off. A mottled purple and black head was revealed, with familiar glowing golden eyes. A Galra prisoner. Shiro’s voice didn’t even hesitate. “Jan.”

“These are the last of our oppressors!” Jan called back, the Galra’s hood held bunched in one fist. Their head was mostly titled forward, they didn’t lift it - and Lance realized how gaunt the frames of the two prisoners were and how tired this one looked. Lance shifted slightly, his finger on the trigger and waiting on Shiro’s orders when the alien moved forward quickly, grabbing the Galra by the back of its head and in one motion, slit its neck.

Lance didn’t hesitate, he immediately sprayed a blast of plasma energy down toward Jan and the guards holding the second prisoner. He wasn’t shooting to kill, not yet, but it was enough to cause the crowd to lose its mind. Shiro didn’t say anything but leaped down into the pit, slamming his helmet on his head with his left hand, his right already glowing violet with kinetic energy.

The mass of aliens didn’t think to actually charge either Lance or Shiro - these were civilians, albeit greatly warped ones - and their first and only priority was to save their own skins. Lance didn’t even have to move, being naturally taller than most of the stampeding aliens - and he only shifted his position slightly as he laid down a pattern of cover fire for Shiro. He didn’t want to kill any of the aliens, not yet … he was more concerned with getting out of here, but Shiro had other ideas, apparently.

Shiro wasn’t charging the altar, which surprised Lance. He instead went straight for the guards with the other prisoner, although there was only one guard left standing by now. Shiro ripped the chain off the prisoner and pulled the hood from his head and this Galra recoiled, clearly anticipating being killed as well. Shiro didn’t pay him any mind once he was freed and then finally turned toward the altar. Jan stood atop it, one clawed, grayish foot on the back of the dead Galra. He held out his knife, pointing it at Shiro. “I should have known,” he said. “You are not our Champion.”

Shiro stood his ground, staring up at the alien who had called him a friend. “You said these two were the last of your sacrifices?”

“No Champion would free the enemy!” Jan’s voice had gone high-pitched as he screamed. “Kill them, kill them! The kapili tree demands blood!”

“I’ve got a clean shot,” Lance said calmly.

“What are you waiting for?” Keith asked, but Lance stayed silent, his cross hairs on the alien and waiting for Shiro’s go-ahead.

“No,” Shiro said, and Lance wasn’t certain if he was the one being addressed, or Jan. “Not like this, Jan.”

The Galra, taller than Lance but not by much, scrambled weakly up over the lip of the floor near where Lance stood. It was easy to see him as the aliens all parted around him like water around oil. Some were beginning to accumulate crude weapons and, well, Lance was in no mood to get beaten to death by tiny cannibals. The Galra looked back at the altar and let out a choked noise; and then fell to his hands and knees, pressing his forehead to the floor. The aliens immediately advanced on him and Lance fired a few shots into the air, well above their heads. It was enough to scatter them and allow Lance to get close.

He wasn’t mistaking it from the distance, the Galra was skin and bone; his fur mottled dark blue and violet with a crest of hair? Fur? Whatever it was, it started above his brow and continued down his back, vanishing under the collar of the rags he wore like a mane. He didn’t lift his head when Lance stopped beside him, and his tail brushed the floor, unmoving.

Shiro followed the Galra up over the lip, and there was a splash of discolored dark matter washed over the front of his armor. Lance didn’t even bat an eye. “He’s too weak to walk, we can’t leave him here,” Lance said, and without a word Shiro crouched down and hoisted the Galra over his shoulders like he weighed nothing at all.

Lance would be more impressed by that display of strength if they weren’t surrounded on all sides by a growing hostile crowd. An alien from behind them screamed, higher-pitched than any human voice, and Shiro said matter of factly, “time to go.”

“Yup,” Lance said, and started firing into the crowd.

“This is a problem,” Lance said, as Shiro unslung the Galra from his shoulder. They’d made it to the airlock, but there was no atmosphere between the airlock and the Red Lion … and their new friend wasn’t exactly in a vacuum-friendly outfit.

“Go,” the Galra croaked, his voice nothing but air and gravel. “I will only hold you back. You have at least allowed me to meet my end honorably.”

“None of that now,” Lance chided, while Shiro frowned at the airlock, and then looked up and down the hall. Lance had blown one of the blast doors at the T-junction, which kept the pursuing aliens at bay for the time being, but who knew how long that would hold.

“What’s the hold up?” Keith said, and Shiro looked back to the airlock.

“We have a prisoner who doesn’t have a jump suit,” Lance said. “No way to get him to you.”

“He’ll be hitting up the cryo replenisher when we get back to the Castleship, right? Just slap a helmet on him, I’ll get Red right next to the airlock.” They both felt the ship shake as the Red Lion moved about the hangar bay, and Lance and Shiro exchanged glances.

“Why do I feel like this is a terrible idea?” Shiro said.

“Do you have any better ones?” Lance asked, tucking his fingers under his helmet to pull it off. Shiro held out his hand and slid his own helmet off. “Shiro,” Lance said, concerned, as Shiro placed the helmet on the Galra’s head as carefully as he could, minding the large ears. “You sure?”

“You’ll be quick,” Shiro said, tapping the helmet and watching it seal around the Galra’s face. He smiled at Lance. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you before.”

Lance’s own helmet hadn’t sealed yet, which allowed him to give Shiro a brief kiss. They smiled at each other, then Keith was in Lance’s ear. “Okay, if you follow the path of air that gets expelled from the airlock’s cycle, you should make it straight to Red’s mouth.”

“C’mon,” Lance said, getting the Galra’s arm over his shoulder. “You got a name? We’re getting you out of here.”

“Verus,” the Galra said, voice muffled by the helmet. He wasn’t on comm, since the helmet wasn’t connected to Shiro’s Paladin armor currently.

“Okay, Verus,” Lance said as the airlock closed behind them. “This is gonna suck, a lot, but we’re gonna make it work. I need you to stay with me as long as you can.”

The airlock’s cycle was quick, and sure enough when the doors opened all the remaining atmosphere in the airlock whooshed into the vacuum. Lance was as ready as he could be and as soon as the doors opened he was half-sprinting, half-dragging the Galra prisoner with him. Red was right there, just as Keith had said and Verus stiffened and tried to pull away but Lance had a good grip on him.

There was still gravity to contend with, and while Lance’s jet pack was enough to get him going easily both him and Verus changed his calculations a bit and they collided inside the Red Lion’s mouth, slamming into one side as Keith had the Lion close its jaws, sealing them in and restoring atmosphere.

Lance half-carried, half-dragged Verus into the cockpit proper. “Don’t freak,” he told Keith, who hadn’t turned around. Lance touched along the jaw of the now-unconscious Verus, found the seal of Shiro’s helmet, and removed it. That was the point where Keith glanced back at the, and did what would have been a hilarious double-take in other circumstances.

“That’s a…” he started to say.

“Yup.”

“Do I even-?”

“Nope.”

Keith shook his head. “Go get Shiro,” he said, “and we can get out of here.”

“Already on it,” Lance said, and the doors to Red’s cockpit closed behind him.

It was much easier getting down than it was getting up; but the entire hangar bay shook again. Lance stumbled as his boots hit the floor and then bounced right off; the artificial gravity had been disabled. Shit. “Lance, go,” Keith yelled in his ear and Lance was moving, the thrusters on his jet pack taking him right to the airlock and jumping inside it so it could cycle immediately. It was a quick cycle, the Galra were nothing if efficient, and Shiro was waiting right there for him, floating just outside the airlock and none the worse for wear. Lance tossed him his helmet, and the entire area shook again, just as the power went out.

“Fuck,” Lance said, as the interior lights on their helmets lit up and made a dark corridor slightly lighter.

“Stand back,” Keith said. “I’ll use Red to get through the walls.” As he spoke, they both heard the chatter of the small aliens, but when Lance scanned down the hallway he didn’t see them, floating in the darkness. Okay, that was unnerving as hell.

“Negative that, Keith,” Shiro said. “There are people on this side without jump suits. We’ll head toward the next airlock.”

“You do realize that you’re protecting the same people who are actively trying to kill us, right?” Lance said, his bayard in hand. Shiro gave him a Look, and Lance shrugged. “Just saying.”

The problem was, there was no next airlock. They were able to divert down another corridor, Shiro using his Galra hand to override what operating systems the ship had and close blast doors behind them, but that was taking them away from the hangar. “There’s got to be another way off this ship,” Lance said in frustration, one hand on the wall to keep from floating into it as Shiro shut another door behind him. “Why can’t we use your hand to cycle the airlock?”

“No point of contact within the airlock to keep it running,” Shiro said. “Although I could cycle you through, somehow I don’t think you’d be too keen on that plan.”

“Damn straight,” Lance huffed. “I’m not leaving you alone here. We’re not, right Keith?”

“Shiro, you okay?” Keith asked, and Lance looked at Shiro as they flew down the corridor. Maneuvering the thrusters on the jet packs wasn’t very difficult, but even then Lance could sense he was lagging a bit. “Your suit’s biometrics are reading low.”

“Just tired,” Shiro said, his voice clipped.

This part of the ship was completely dark, no emergency running lights at all and no additional power sources, so it was literally taking Shiro’s arm to power the blast doors open and closed again. No wonder he sounded so tired, draining his prosthetic arm’s energy had to be sapping his own reserves, and Lance had a disquieting flashback to a different escape. “Where are we headed?” Lance said.

“The escape pods,” Shiro said. “We’re headed to the escape pods, Keith, do you copy that?”

“I copy,” Keith’s voice was thick with static. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stand by,” Shiro said. “When we eject, you’ll need to be on it right away.”

“That is, presuming there are any escape pods left,” Lance muttered.

“There won’t be,” Shiro said. “We’ll just use the airlock to eject ourselves into space. Keith will pick us up.”

“Great plan,” Lance said. “Excellent plan. We’re going to die.”

Though Shiro’s voice was still tired, there was a smile in it. “How many times has Keith done something similar, and he’s still with us.”

“That is not a metric I want to be measured against,” Lance said. “Keith is like, a space-cat ninja.”

He heard Keith make a funny, static-filled sound through the comm. “Yeah yeah, yak it up, Captain Fuzzypants.” Keith’s reply was too cut through with static to be distinguishable. Lance tapped the side of his helmet a few times. “Uh,” he said, as if Shiro wasn’t on the same comm channel. “What’s causing the interference?”

“If I had to guess,” Shiro said, “it would be the tree.”

“So how is Keith going to know where to find us?”

“We just have to trust him,” Shiro said, and continued on.

“Great,” Lance muttered quietly. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

There was nothing at all on the comm from Lance or Shiro.

Keith flew Red the breadth of the hangar, trying to pick up some scraps of audio, but nothing came through the system, not even static. Frustrated, he flew out the bay door and looped the Galra vessel - there were far less running lights on it now, primarily located in the main body of the ship where the tree was. He wasn’t exactly sure where the escape pods were on this particular ship, and when he pulled a ship schematic from the Red Lion’s memory banks it showed twelve different escape pod locations. Keith rubbed his face with one hand, and tried the sensors instead.

There was a weak cough from behind him, and Keith glanced over his shoulder to see that his newest passenger had rolled onto his back. This was a full-blooded Galra, though on the smaller end of the scale. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, emaciated as he was, and the dark blue fur that trailed from between his ears and down his back was lank and limp.

Lance had dragged a Galra onto his Lion, and Keith really didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do with that. But, that was for later, once he’d retrieved Lance and Shiro and they figured out what the heck to do next. This whole thing had gone belly-up on them, and Keith hovered his hand over the open comm switch to the Castleship. If he switched bands, he might miss Lance or Shiro’s transmission.

“... should have died,” the Galra behind him croaked, and based on that voice alone it sounded like he had.

“Well, you didn’t,” Keith said, all business. After a brief query he pulled up Red’s sensors and started scanning the ship. Maybe if they couldn’t talk, he could at least find his friends that way. After a few frustrating minutes finally a pair of colored dots appeared on the map; black and blue. Keith let out a relieved noise and angled Red away from the ship, looping around to one of the dark sides and hanging out there, watching the dots as they slowly progressed toward what must be an escape pod bay. He glanced back over his shoulder at the Galra when he realized no other noise had come his way, and the Galra was lying motionless on his back. “You’re not dead yet, right?”

There was no response from his passenger, and Keith frowned, glancing back and forth from the display to his unconscious cargo. “Look, Lance and Shiro will both be pissed if they stuck their necks out for you and you expired in my cockpit so can you at least hang on until we’ve gotten you into a replenisher?”

The Galra opened its eyes and breathed out a rattling breath. “You stink of half-breed,” he said, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“I am sure glad we didn’t meet you a month ago,” he muttered, and turned his attention back to piloting.

They made it to an escape pod bay fortunately without any further complication. It was eerily dark as they floated along the corridor, one hand on the corridor wall to keep their bearings, the only light reflected from their Paladin armor. Shiro was flagging fast, having to use his arm as a sole power source for so long seemed to have drained nearly all of his energy, and Lance kept one hand on his shoulder, letting him lead but also there to keep him on the right path.

Once they had crossed over into the part of the ship that had been mostly destroyed by the initial uprising, they had found no more closed doors. They’d also found a couple of bodies - Lance was not ashamed of how quickly he had shot two before he realized that they weren’t under attack.

The escape pods were, as guessed, all jettisoned. Lance put one hand on the airlock that once led to an escape pod; now it just led into a dark, empty tunnel. “We’re really doing this, huh?” Lance asked, hoping that he’d get some response from Keith now that they’d traversed the ship and were hopefully out of range of the fucking kapili tree, but no luck there.

“Unless you’ve made your peace with being eaten by aliens,” Shiro said, and Lance shuddered.

“Well,” he said after a moment, tapping the chin of his helmet thoughtfully as Shiro tried to figure out how to force the sealed airlock open. “Keith counts, right?”

“I walked right into that one,” Shiro muttered as his hand lit violet again, although the light was very dim compared to what Lance was used to. “We’re not talking about Keith eating your ass, okay? We’re just not.” He placed his hand on the control and then tilted back a little - without the gravity, he wasn’t going to hit the floor but Lance pushed off and caught him anyway, before he floated back too far.

“Man, Shiro, don’t do this,” Lance said, and took his hand, placing it on the controls and holding it there. “I know this is taking a lot out of you, but we’re almost there. You get us out of here and I’ll eat your ass, promise.”

Shiro pushed forward as his arm lit brighter for a moment, and the airlock slid open. There was no burst of pressurized atmosphere venting, and Lance had a bad feeling that there was a closed bay door at the end of the long, dark tunnel - but he had a blaster rifle and they would burn that bridge when they got to it. “Gonna hold you to that,” Shiro muttered, but managed somehow not to pass out. Shiro hooked his arm over Lance’s shoulders and Lance navigated them into the long, dark tunnel that led to the launch point of the escape pod.

As he’d suspected, the tunnel ended in a heavy, shielded door. Lance propped one foot against the wall and Shiro the other wall, bracing him so that when he fired his weapon the rebound wouldn’t send them both halfway back the way they’d come. The plasma beams were dazzlingly bright, and it took three sprays of blaster fire before the door popped, and thank goodness when it breached it got sucked out into space first because Lance wagered that going through a hole the size of a few blaster shots wouldn’t be particularly fun.

The venting atmosphere sent Lance and Shiro tumbling out, spinning in different directions with no regard for where they were headed. Lance flailed, spinning head over heels as he tried to engage the thrusters on his jetpack to level off and get a lock on which direction Shiro went, all the while yelling into his comm at the same time. “KEITH!”

There was a split-second of silence; just Lance and the uncaring vastness of space. He saw out of the corner of his eye the shape of a Lion and he turned quickly, tracking its movement. His first thought was Blue; connecting to her and he remembered how she came to rescue him on Eaphus without him even realizing it; but the flash of a figure flying toward him, toward them wasn’t Blue, and it wasn’t Red….

It was the Black Lion.

“Shiro!” Lance yelled through his comm and this time saw the distant teal of a jet pack engaged; he knew that had to be Shiro moving toward the Black Lion. Keith still hadn’t responded so Lance followed Shiro and a few seconds later the Red Lion looped the Galra cruiser and Keith’s voice exploded over Lance’s ears.

“What the fuck,” Keith bellowed, and Lance laughed, giddy with relief as he caught up to Shiro. Shiro reached out to him, gripped him tight by his forearm, and maneuvered them both into the open mouth of the imposing Black Lion.

#voltron #slts #shklance #omegaverse #just a warning y'all might want to set some time aside #this chapter is a little bit on the length side

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sunnybimbo · 8 years ago

Text

The Witch and the Mage

ao3 link here

y’all i had so much fun with this aljdhsajdahl pls feel free to ask more about this because i love it SO MUCH

@voltron-rare-pair-week for Day Four: Free Day!

could be read as platonic or pre-slash Shunk (Shiro/Hunk)!

(MMO AU; 3908 words)

“The Goblins of Dorfenshertin should be showing up after this room, so make sure you save your buffs.”

“Shiro’s talking to you, Keith. Mr. ‘Sorry, I Was On Cooldown’.” Lance griped.

“Are you still pissy you died?” Keith sighed heavily, the sound echoing in his burgonet, only his half-lidded eyes visible through the faceplate. Nonetheless they all could hear the grin in his voice.

“Uh, yeah. I lost my Orb of Disarray! That last boss would’ve gone down like that , if you had your buffs up.”

The two of them butted heads, though Lance quickly pulled away when his bare forehead clanged hard against Keith’s metal helmet.

“Asshole.”

“Guys, kinda need your help here.” Hunk grunted, wringing his fingers as he casted Barricade on the door twice in succession. Still, it buckled and cracked under the weight of the forty or so goblins that had begun to spawn into existence.

The room of the twenty-five story castle they were currently hiding in was basically a tiny library. Thick dust lined the walls, caking dozens of book spines in a layer of dirty white. Spider webs criss-crossed the ceiling, and oozing egg sacs harmlessly swung above their heads.

(Harmless if you didn’t touch the acid, that is.)

Holes in the walls, that counted as windows if you squinted, were so high up that they would have had to stand on each other’s shoulders to peek out of them. That, combined with the night cycle outside, led to that awfully dreary lighting they were subjected to while they awaited their demise.

Lance cracked his knuckles, cocking his gun and striking a pose. “I bet you I can take them all with no health packs.”

Shiro shook his head, wiggling his fingers as purple energy crackled around them. “No bets. Not if you guys actually want to qualify for the tournament next weekend.”

He turned to the pendant that gave him a view of their base. It was safely nestled in a corner of the realm, about two kingdoms away from their current location. The pendant, a reward given to them from one of their very first missions, allowed for two way visual communication.

There, in the corner surrounded by her golems and undead pets sat their necromancer. “Pidge, how long until you finish that buff?”

“Twenty seconds. Well, that plus the fifteen more I need to be able to project it over to you. After that, Hunk should be ready to cast Vindicate.”

“Got it. Think you can hold it for 35 more seconds, Hunk?”

“Not really.” The panicking witch hissed, summoning a wall of cobblestone to block the few goblins that slipped in past the cracking wood and waning barriers.

Keith grimaced, hefting his broadsword in front of him as he widened his stance. “We might need to take them out now and just hope for the best.”

The team nodded and, with a weary sigh, Hunk let his enchantment fall as he slid to the back to provide support. Witches tended to be quite squishy, especially when it came to large mobs.

“We’ve got this!”

---

Shiro sighed heavily, dragging his hand down his face as the rest of the team respawned.

The grassy hills they got transported to were about 20 miles away from the Tower of Calamity, the exact same tower they had just got absolutely destroyed in. There was no way they would be able to walk all the way back and beat all twenty five levels again.

Not tonight, anyway.

Pidge sent them a fussy group message, seeing as she wasn’t able to contact them directly now that their direct communicator was lost. Shiro skimmed past the filtered curse words, making a mental note to have the team rerun the dungeon later to get another pendant.

‘I’ll try to find some outside help for next time. See you four tomorrow.’ Was her signing off message, and Shiro knew she was probably going to be up all night contacting guilds or mercenaries for hire.

From behind him, Lance hacked up a lung as he rubbed his throat. “I swear, these goblins get more and more ruthless the longer I play this damn game.”

The pain, of course, had faded as soon as he lost his last health bar, but the feel of their grubby fingers against his esophagus still ghosted across his skin. Nevermind the fact that his under armor extended up to his chin.

Maybe it was a glitch? Ah, well. These games were made to be realist, either way.

Keith respawned next, hands pressed across his abdomen as he let out a ragged breath. He fell hard against the grass, shoving his helm from his face, and Shiro gave him a tentative smile. “Stabbed?”

He only received a scowl in response, but by the way Keith kept checking his belly for signs of blood, he’d probably hit it right on the nose.

“What’s the point of full metal armor if I can just get stabbed between the cracks, anyway?” He pouted, pulling himself up.

Hunk was last, and the ends of his robe were singed as he materialized into view. “Oh, geez. We went down so hard.” He rubbed soot from his eyes, dusting his blackened fingers off on his trousers.

“Yeah, we did.” Shiro couldn’t help but laugh, before he heaved another sigh. “I guess we’d better call this a night, huh?”

Lance grunted as Hunk helped him up. “I guess so. I have family bonding activities tonight, anyway, so I should probably go help set up.” He stretched his arms above his head, curling his back in until it popped. “Should I port back to camp or?”

“We probably need to restock on potions and all that, so go for it. See you tomorrow, sharpshooter.”

With a click of his tongue and a wink, Lance poofed away with only a glittering ring around his feet left as proof he even stood there at all. It disappeared about two seconds later.

“What about you two?” Shiro asked as he pulled up his map, hand hovering in the air as he zoomed in on the nearest town.

Hunk and Keith slid up beside him, peering over his shoulder.

“A trip to town sounds fun to me.” Hunk shrugged, pulling out his bone whistle to call his mount.

“I’ll probably split up to buy some new gear before I log off.” Keith voiced, tapping his chin as he began a mental list of the items he’d need. “But can I hitch a ride?”

Shiro flicked the map away, blinking as his eyes refocused. Hunk just hummed his agreement as his Balmera landed.

They were round animals with sharp edges, rocky in appearance, but soft if they trusted you enough to let you pet them. Their wings were thin, but strong like expensive leather, and their eyes held a kindness that almost made Hunk cry the first time he saw them. Of course, he never admitted it aloud, since no one else ever expresses such sentiments about their digital (as in, not real ) mount.

Rumor has it, though, that if you levelled them high enough they could give you a permanent healing buff, no matter if they were with you or not. Hunk was almost there. Just a few more enchanted books and one more dungeon, and he’d have the gauntlet he needed to summon the -

“Hunk?”

“Huh?”

“We’re ready to go.” Shiro smiled, and Hunk flushed at the teasing look.

“Sorry, I just… zoned out.” He cleared his throat, following the other two as he climbed aboard his pet. “To Dimrun!”

---

Despite the name, Dimrun was a very lively borough. The homes sat so close together, they may as well have been connected townhouses. Every front porch had a personalized lantern, lit almost exactly at the same time each night.

There always seemed to be a festival happening in Dimrun, and that night was no exception. Every person in town, NPC or actual player, seemed to be dressed in silly costumes and twirling in drunken swagger.

Keith hopped from the Balmera first, weapon already out and glinting in the warm torchlit as he inspected the dents and cracks in the steel.

“I’ll see you both around.”

“Good luck finding an open shop.” Hunk offered, and coming from anyone else it probably would have sounded sarcastic. Keith took the comment in stride and offered him a curt nod, disappearing quickly in the thick ocean of the crowd that swarmed the town.

Hunk and Shiro slid from the mount, and Hunk offered it a few treats as he hooked it up in the stall.

“What are you planning for tonight?” Shiro asked, idly picking at his prosthetic. It was almost a mirror image of the one he had in real life, and Hunk always greatly admired both.

“I was probably just going to hit up the tavern; dance around. Lurk.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Hunk glanced over at Shiro, who looked very much so like a person who did not want to be alone at that moment. His eyes were averted downwards, a sharp contrast to his usual cool confidence, and Hunk hummed thoughtfully.

“Please, do.”

Shiro jerked in surprise, as if he had been expecting Hunk to blow him off. “Yeah?”

Hunk flipped off his ornamental hat, donned with jewels, ribbons, and all, and offered his elbow to Shiro, who hooked his fingers in the crook of his elbow automatically in response. “Yep!”

---

The tavern, surprisingly, was empty (other than the barkeeper) when they stepped in. Perhaps all of the drunken patrons decided the party was better in the crisp fall air instead of the stuffy, smoke-ridden bar.

The pair quickly stole a table in the back, away from the creaking door and crackling hearth.

Hunk dumped his satchel across the top, spilling charmed gemstones and thick scroll pages across the alcohol-stained wood.

“What’s all this?” Shiro tucked his elbows on top of the table as he peered down at the writings. “Making a new spell?”

“Mhm! Something for Keith when he runs into battle. Most of my spells aren’t quick enough to block the amount of hits he takes, but I was thinking I could use something like a deflection to help decrease the damage and throw it back at the enemies. It probably would have been especially helpful today, what with that one mage-goblin.”

Hunk sighed heavily. They probably would have been successful in their earlier battle if only it hadn’t appeared as soon as their skills were on cooldown.

“I swear, we’re so unlucky these days. Mage-goblins have like a 1-in-5,000 chance of showing up in a mob! He totally wiped the floor with our butts.” Hunk continued on, picking at the less-than-spectacular gems and pushing them back in the bag.

“If one of us had been able to deflect, maybe he wouldn’t have been such a problem. Then again, once Lance was out of ammo we were pretty much screwed anyway, since he still hasn’t gotten his reload buff.”

Hunk blinked his eyes, glancing up from his color-coded piles to look at Shiro, who just stared at him in something akin to amazement. Or perhaps he zoned out halfway through. “Oh, geez… I went on a rant there, didn’t I? Sorry…”

“It’s fine, Hunk. Us support-types have to rant to someone sometime, right?” Shiro lifted his hand, placating smile dancing across his lips, and a crackle of magic-electricity shot through the air.

Hunk grinned, bringing up his own fingers to call forward a halo of fire that rimmed his knuckles. Their fists touched in a show of camaraderie, and their magic sparked as soon as they met.

“Right.”

---

The two of them spent most of that night planning new strategies and organizing each other’s spells.

Hunk had no idea how Shiro survived with the disorganized mess that was his spell-cast list. His enhancements were at the very bottom, each separated by physical attacks, and he only had one or two of his favorite spells quick-slotted.

“How on earth do you even survive?”

Shiro shrugged. “I like going through the motions. It grounds me.”

Hunk didn’t argue with that. He, himself, had a few larger spells that he preferred to use his entire body to cast, other than a few hand motions. His personal favorite was Vitality, which he only ever used to speed up the growth of his herbs for his potions.

Shiro, though he prefered body magic, suggested Hunk teach him a few healing spells. If only to help himself in the midst of battle so Hunk could focus on the two damage-magnets that were Lance and Keith.

That was how the two of them found each other on the outskirts of town, sitting beneath a willow tree that seemed to want to wrap them up in its vines and steal them away forever. It had a name that escaped Hunk at the moment, but there was some sort of folk-tale he’d heard a while back about it being the spirit of an ancient creature that used to destroy cities with merely a flick of its wrist. If he remembered right, the spirit had been a woman who’d lost her daughter to a pointless war, bent on the destruction of those who’d wronged her and her family. The only reason why she stopped was because of the daughters of those who she’d killed stepped forward and were prepared to give their lives as an exchange for the safety of their people.

Heavy stuff, it was.

The lowing-hanging leaves tickled Hunk’s nose, and he sneezed.

Shiro smiled fondly as he plopped down on the roots that jutted from the ground, patting the spot beside him. “Bless you.”

They joined hands, and Hunk was pleasantly surprised at the warm pulse he felt through the prosthetic. It felt almost the exact same as Shiro’s other palm, the only discernable difference being the smooth texture of metal versus the battle-worn grooves of his skin.

“So, uh… First thing you have to do is focus your magic in your palms.” Hunk began, “Try to keep it away from your fingertips, or else it’ll shoot right up into the air, especially since you’re used to projectile spells.”

Shiro silently nodded his head, eyes fluttering shut.

Hunk followed suit, calling his magic forward to help coax it out of his mage-friend. “Try to keep your breathing steady, too. Once you get used to calling it, you won’t have to worry, but if you start panicking you might hurt yourself.”

“Got it.”

It took quite a while for the surge to pulse through, partly because it was a struggle to get the magic to bypass the metal fingers, but once it did, Hunk nearly gasped aloud.

The magic was strong. Violently so, and it washed over his skin like a malevolent deluge. A harsh shiver ran up his spine, coiling at the base of his skull as sickening thoughts took over. He saw destruction, created by his own hands, overtaking every city and forest of the realm that was Voltron.

When the flow didn’t quell after a few seconds, he had to yank his hands back to take a shaky breath, curling over himself as he counted his breath, his fingers, the stitches of his clothes… anything to calm him down as his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage.

“Hunk?” Came Shiro’s frightened tone. “What happened?”

His brow furrowed, and he had to scrub at his eyes with the heels of his hands to quash the violent images. “You didn’t feel that?”

“I felt… a pull. A soft tug, I guess. Did I hurt you?”

Hunk shooed his worried hands away. “No, no. I’m fine.” He pulled himself up, and helped Shiro to do the same. “I… we should try this another day. I think I’m just tired. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Shiro nodded. “Come on, let’s… go look at the festivities before you log off.”

Hunk ran a shaky hand through his bangs, nearly ripping his headband from his hair.

“Yes, that sounds… great, actually.”

---

Eventually, Hunk calmed enough to stop his fingers from shaking.

It helped that Shiro constantly bought him things to keep his hands full. Hand-carved statuettes made from woods, glass, and even animal bones were given to him by his guild leader, each one some type of feline, and each one was painted a color that correlated to their teammates. A lounging blue cat for Lance, a ferocious red panther frozen mid-leap for Keith, and a tiny green margay, curled around an equally green tree for Pidge.

The carvings were safely stashed away in his satchel as they rounded on food stalls, and Shiro was quick to buy anything that seemed to catch Hunk’s eye. Half of what they ended up getting ended up in Shiro’s stomach, the endless pit that it was.

Hunk shook his head fondly after Shiro downed his seventh pheasant leg. They plucked up a pair of warm ciders to finish off the quick meal, and Hunk curled both his hands around the mug as the cool breeze of autumn nipped at his nose.

More and more booths lined the city square, and all were hand-decorated more and more intricately the farther into town they walked. Hunk stopped often to admire the smooth lines of the painted tents.

“You should set up a shop one of these days.” Shiro mentioned after the fifth or sixth stop.

“Really?” Hunk had never thought about it, but he’d be able to sell a plethora of things. Spellbooks, jewelry, advice.

“Mhm. Don’t be afraid to ask me if you need a loan.” Shiro winked, and Hunk felt his face flush at the offer.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

---

They somehow rounded back to the same tavern, through the back door this time. Because it doubled as an inn, the pair had to wander through an array of hallways to get back to the bar.

Shiro stopped them somewhere in the middle of the building, eyes catching on a painting that seemed to be featured in every main building in every town of the game. It showed up so often that most stopped paying it any attention, but Shiro seemed captivated by it.

Hunk backtracked a few steps to follow his gaze.

It was a painting of Altea, the once sparkling city that had ruled every land and region. Unfortunately, for the sake of the plot, Zarkon had destroyed it and stolen away the ever-loved royalty that once ruled them with kind hands.

These days, it was hard to go anywhere unless you announced your allegiance to the Galra, Zarkon’s denomination. Many did, if only to keep their livelihood, but others, players like Shiro, Hunk, Lance, Keith, and Pidge, fought against him every chance they got.

Once the next update patched through, they would be able to try to rescue the royal family. Apparently it was going to be the biggest update in the history of the game, and the family would not be NPCs, but real.

Those were probably just rumors, though.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Shiro clutched his arm, fingers squeaking against the polished metal. “I just… had a thought.”

Hunk gave an introspective hum, and the sound awkwardly hung in the air. Then, tentative, jittery fingers brushed against his knuckles, and Hunk took it upon himself tangle them in his own. He wanted to ask if Shiro was alright, but Shiro was a chronic liar when it came to those sorts of questions.

“I still can’t believe you’re one of the only ones ever to have escaped Zarkon after being captured. Most people stop playing, or restart, after that.” Hunk asked instead.

“Yeah, well…” Shiro shrugged, an uneasy laugh building in his throat. “I never know when to quit.”

Hunk led him to a nearby chair, the duo tucking themselves into a dirty corner. Shiro slumped down, burying his face in his human palm as Hunk clung to the prosthetic.

“Do you want to talk about it? Your thought.”

Shiro quickly shook his head. “I’d rather not.” He looked up to catch Hunk’s eye as the witch knelt before him.

Hunk let go of his hand rested his palms against Shiro’s knees, offering a bit of his calming magic to spread through the contact. “Well, I’m here to listen whenever you’d like.”

The mage leaned forward to press his forehead against Hunk’s, and Hunk let him, murmuring comforting words until the crease in Shiro’s brow faded away.

This wasn’t the first time Shiro found himself shaken by a relatively harmless item from the game, and would probably not be the last, but Hunk was getting better at pulling him back and keeping him steady.

“Thank you, Hunk.” Shiro breathed, “You’re a good friend.”

“You’re a good leader.” Hunk easily replied.

---

Eventually, the two of them had to log off. Shiro led Hunk back to his Balmera, so that he could port with his pet without having to wait for the cooldown that came with each of them porting separately.

“Thank you for helping me with my spells earlier.” Hunk said as he side-saddled his mount, fingers carding through the feather-like fur idly.

“No problem. Like I said, we support-types have to stick together.”

They shared a grin, and Shiro leaned against the Balmera, who lazily flicked its tail at him. “Are you going to be on tomorrow?” He asked.

“I should be! I might have to get off a bit early because my family is visiting for the holidays, but I doubt it. I’ll let you know for sure tomorrow.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like we have any guild-activities planned.” Shiro restlessly tapped his fingers against his bicep. “Would you mind helping me with my healing spells tomorrow? There’s no rush, of course, I just...”

“You just like perfecting your spells. I understand, completely.” Hunk waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. We’ll practice all day if we have to.”

Shiro affectionately ruffled his hair, and Hunk hid the resulting tangle with his flamboyant hat. Then, from deep within the folds of his robe, he pulled free a statuette and tossed it to Shiro before he could get a proper look at it.

“See you tomorrow!”

Hunk and his Balmera vanished with that, transported to their base, and Shiro nearly slipped and fell now that his leaning post was gone.

The carved glass was so detailed that Shiro could make out every fine hair of the figurine. A lioness, by the look of it, stained every color of the rainbow. She stood proud on her perch, which was curved like a magnificent planet, as if she ruled it in its entirety. Underneath her feet sat the very sky itself, and Shiro had no idea if it was just reflecting the one above his head perfectly, or if the glass maker was just very very talented.

It was beautiful, and Shiro had no idea when Hunk had found the time to snatch it up for him, but Shiro appreciated it immensely. It must have cost a pretty penny.

Shiro grinned to himself, holding it close to his heart as he pulled up his IMs and shot off a quick thank-you to his favorite witch.

Maybe he could finish that deflection spell for Hunk before he logged back on?

It was already way past midnight, but… Shiro never did know when to quit, did he?

#VLDRarePairWeek #jam writes #shiro #hunk #voltron #should i tag this as shunk or nah #nah #tw for mentions of stabbing?#so i guess #impalement tw #ask me to tag more shit #for sure

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pumpkins-s · 8 years ago

Text

Spilling Like An Overflowing Sink

Read on AO3 Here

Read the Other Chapters on Tumblr Here

Lance Alexander Rafael McClain is born in the middle of a summer storm, thunder cracking and rain slamming onto the roof of an old ramshackle house that had seen more than its fair share of children.

The miracle baby, that’s what the family had called Lance. The unexpected son to a mother of five daughters.

(In which family is always complicated, Lance’s life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, and he and Keith are really emotionally constipated for each other.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: Keith/Lance, significant platonic Lance & Hunk

Characters: Lance, Lance’s family, Hunk, Keith, Shiro, Pidge, Allura, Coran

Chapter 6: Live

(( Author’s Note: Heyo, new year, new update!

This wasn't originally going to be its own full chapter, but after doing the math on length and having just suffered through writing a 15k update for another fic (I'm serious, I did that, kill me), I decided to split the planned chapter up. Hence this. Now, before anyone asks, a lot of you have been asking about Keith, so I'll just say this-- They meet when Lance is 15. He's 11 now. How fast we get to Keith depends on how much of the next 4, Very Important, I'll add, years of Lance's life I cover, so please be patient, k? You'll get Keith in a chapter or two.

And!! Before we begin!! This fic has its own first piece of fanart!! I've been told it's a WIP, but it's still amazing so I have to show it off-- So everyone go check out Peachlance's gorgeous art of young Hunk and Lance. It's beautiful. I yelled in the middle of an airport when I saw it. (BTW if anyone ever does fanart for this fic and I miss it because it's on another site or whatever, please tell me in a comment on this fic or an ask to my tumblr with the link, I'd hate to miss it!!)

Also!! I'm on Twitter now since there seems to be a significant portion of the Voltron fandom that prefers that to Tumblr. I don't post a ton on it, but I'll be putting out update notifications from now on, so if you want those and my all-caps tweets yelling at Aiden, my irl Keith friend, feel free to follow me, yeah?

Ok that's it you can ignore me now here's Lance have fun y'all.))

Come September, Lance and Hunk pack their bags and move into the dormitories at Greenwood, accompanied by their moving team of the entire McClain family, plus Hunk’s grandmother— The whole lot of them piling into the old family jeep and pickup truck and Hunk’s grandmother’s tiny, ancient Toyota with an assortment of random things they’re each separately convinced Lance and Hunk are going to need.

Lance imagines they make quite the sight, pulling up to the pristine parking spaces outside the Greenwood buildings and piling out of the cars in a haphazard mess of long limbs and a loud mix of Spanish and English that blends together into a background noise that is comforting in its familiarity against the apprehensive mystery that is Greenwood. They certainly do get their fair share of stares as they cram into the entry building for student check-in, confirming that, yes, they are indeed all relatives, and are here to help Lance and Hunk move in.

Honestly, Lance has to admit they’re all pretty restrained, all things considered. Everyone knows how important this is to him, and to Hunk, in his own way, and his family is hardly inclined to mess this up for them, so there’s a fair degree of… what Lance might dare call caution in their behavior. They’re loud, and talkative, and move around a lot, because they’re McClains and that’s what they do when they move as a pack, but Karen doesn’t try to play soccer in the dorm hall, Igraine doesn’t punch anyone, even Marcie restrains herself from commenting loudly on the hairstyle choices of the people around them.

…Ok, yeah, she whispers a few comments under her breath to Lance, but that was still a marked effort on her part, and she was right that one guy’s undercut had been so sloppily done it was painful to look at, even Lance could agree on that.

Karen hadn’t seen anything wrong with it but, then again, that was Karen, who’s thought processes concerning her hair began and ended at where the nearest scrunchie was to pull it up into its perpetual bushy ponytail, much to Marcie and Lance’s horror.

If anything though, Lance thinks they just get odd looks because they’re… them. A large, loud, Cuban family who clearly don’t have the money to be here, let alone the pedigree.

“Fuck em.” Igraine mutters firmly under her breath the first time a mother helping her son with his bags scoffs at them when they pass by in the dormitory hall. “You’ve earned your right to be here. At least you didn’t buy your way in.”

“Igraine.” Aunt Rosa snaps, slapping her on the arm, and Lance snorts loudly, earning a victorious smirk from his sister even as she whines and cradles her arm as if it’s now broken. The burst of noise only earns them more side-eyes from the people in the hall, and Lance ducks his head sheepishly, scratching at the back of it nervously. He’s still not used to his short hair, really, and when he’s anxious he tends to find it feels quite itchy. At least the bangs that frame his face are just long enough to play with and twirl with his fingers. He thinks he’d lose his mind otherwise, far too used to having long curls to twirl and braid and tie into loose knots when he gets fidgety— Honestly, he has no idea what he’s gonna do in class now to keep his hands busy.

Eventually, they get all the boxes into his and Hunk’s room (and thank God for that little blessing, Lance doesn’t know how he’d function if they hadn’t been allowed to pre-choose their roommates), stacked up along the walls and all over the floor. Frankly, it seems like far more than the two of them will need to Lance, especially given they barely live an hour or so away, but a good portion of the boxes are things he can identify as not having packed himself, snuck in amongst all their other belongings, no doubt random pieces of junk his family has decided they require. Lance wouldn’t be surprised if he found something as random as a paper towel dispenser or half-empty bottles of shampoo, honestly. Knowing his family, it’s far too likely. He still remembers with a kind of abject horror the mess that was Carlos and Rachel moving into their new house.

It’s… different, bringing all his things in here and trying to make it a living space. Lance has only had one room his entire life, and if he ever slept in another room in the house, it had always been with Loraine. But… Loraine isn’t here anymore, and this is not his house.

Luckily, the adults largely take over once they get everything in, rearranging the school-provided furniture, getting the beds made with sheets and quilts and extra pillows, and unpacking the heaviest books. It only takes about ten minutes before Uncle Jesús, Lucas, Igraine, and Lance’s grandfather are kicked out of the room under orders to go get food for everyone, once it quickly becomes clear Lance and Hunk’s dorm room is not large enough to have all of them milling around in it. As it is, they still barely fit, shuffling past each other and ducking out into the hall as they work to make room. It’s a mess, but… nice. Lance is going to miss not being around his family every day, and so the squished hustle of it all is something he chooses to savor rather than be frustrated with.

When it comes time for families to leave, the extended visiting hours for the move-in day coming to an end once night falls, it’s a long, drawn-out procession of goodbyes. Lance has to patiently remind his mother and sisters that he’ll see them all again come the weekend, but even while reassuring them, he himself can’t help but cling to them tightly when they embrace him, memorizing his mother’s warmth, Marcie’s fruity smell, Karen’s chapped lips when she kisses the side of his head, the sharp dig of Igraine’s multiple ear piercings against his cheek when she hugs him tight. Each of them distinct in the little things that mark them as who they are— Marcie and her guiding softness, Karen’s grounding reassurance, Igraine’s fire, Evie’s quick wit.

His sisters.

…And Lance, the shadow to the all-encompassing, insurmountable ocean.

“Are these… Christmas lights. Yep, they’re Christmas lights.” Lance glances up at Hunk’s bewildered words, and snorts loudly, shaking his head in slight disbelief. Even with their families’ help, there’d still been plenty left to unpack once they left, and apparently they were hitting the boxes of weird stuff now.

“Just throw them on one of the desks for now.” Lance says dismissively, turning back to his own box, while Hunk bemusedly gathers up the lights in his arms and stares at them.

“…We could string them up along the ceiling? Like college students do in the movies?”

“Wouldn’t that be a safety code violation?” Lance asks, unfolding the flaps on the box in front of him and blinking in surprise. “…Why.”

“What?” Hunk says, frowning, and Lance sighs, straightening up and pulling out the large Cuban flag he’d found stuffed in the top of the box.

“I bet my abuelita put it in— She does realize I was born in the U.S., right?”

“Maybe she just wants you to be proud of your heritage. It’s a good thing.” Hunk says mildly, and Lance rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, come talk to me when you find your giant New Zealand flag then.”

“Actually…” Reaching into the new box he’s just opened, Hunk pulls out a miniature New Zealand flag on a stick and waves it back and forth. “It seems my grandmother had a similar thought pattern.” Idly, he peers into the box. “…Oh look there’s an All Blacks flag there too.”

“Jesus.”

“He’s over there.” Hunk says, pointing at the crucifix sitting on Lance’s bedside table, also a gift from his grandmother, Lance suspects.

Lance grabs the pillow off his bed closest to him and chucks it at Hunk’s head.

Hunk dodges easily, not even sparing Lance a look as he pulls a few books out of the box and sets them on his desk. Lance huffs in irritation and chucks the flag onto the edge of his bed to deal with later, emptying the rest of the box to find… yarn, lots and lots of yarn.

Wincing, he runs a hand over the closest ball, a light pink that’s soft to the touch. He’d learned to knit from Marcie, who’d in turn learned from their grandmother, as something to do with his hands when he was feeling overly fidgety. It had been nice, something he enjoyed, even if he’d mostly only made scarves and blankets, but since Loraine’s death he hadn’t touched his knitting needles, the whole activity too drenched in memories of being tucked up on Loraine’s bed with her watching a movie as he moves the yarn through his fingers.

He gives it a moment of hesitation, and then folds the box shut and pushes it under his bed.

Knitting’s probably not a normal boy’s thing anyways.

“Hey help me with this box.” Lance startles, standing up and going over to where Hunk is standing next to a large box, helping him push it into the spot they’d cleared for emptying and sorting boxes and cutting the tape on the top. Hunk opens the flaps and reaches in, pulling out a mess of fabric. “Clothes. Guess we missed a box earlier. Looks like these are all yours.” Lance takes the bundle of shirts from Hunk and opens a dresser drawer, dropping them in before moving onto the next handful. They’re all plain or with simple logos, old things he’d gotten from Lucas and Carlos, a few of Karen’s old things when she wore more masculine clothing for a while when she was younger. He’d purposely made sure to leave out all the old floral-patterned tops and frilly blouses along with the other clothing hidden in the back of his closet when he’d picked out what to pack— He hadn’t needed too many clothes, anyways, since the school had uniforms. This was mostly just for lounging around the dorm or days when casual wear was permitted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hunk reach for something in the box, pulling out an old grey shirt and staring at it, brows furrowed and a question clearly on the tip of his tongue. Before he can say anything, Lance quickly snatches the shirt out of his grasp, throwing it in the drawer with the rest of the clothing and shutting it firmly, ignoring Hunk’s questioning eyes even as they follow him as he folds up the now empty box and drops it into the pile with its brethren in the corner.

He knows Hunk has noticed the change in his clothing, his mannerisms, as distinct as his hair, but he’s not ready for the questions yet.

…He’s not yet come up with an answer.

“How many boxes do we have left?” He asks pointedly, kicking the pile of empty boxes into a more reasonable shape.

“Oh! Uh…” Hunk startles, and glancing back Lance watches him peer around the room. “Nine or ten? We’ve gotten all the big ones, we could always do the rest tomorrow after orientation.”

Lance frowns. “If you’re tired, you can sleep now. I want to finish tonight so we don’t have to worry.”

He’s too jittery to sleep, honestly. Nerves and fears and excitement about being away from Veradera, from home, but being here, colliding together in a mess of emotion and displaced energy. Hunk hesitates, shaking his head, and Lance can tell he feels much the same.

“Nah, let’s just… get it all done tonight.”

Lance nods, grabbing a box off the stack and passing it to Hunk before grabbing one himself, setting it on top of his bed and opening it up. Once he gets the flaps on the top open, though, he freezes, feeling ice trickle through his veins and under his skin as he stares down at the box. “…Dammit, Marcie.”

“What’s wrong?” Hunk asks behind him, and Lance jolts.

“Nothing. Just. Stuff I told her not to pack that she put in anyways.”

In the box sits the things Marcie and Lance had bonded over for years, the skills she had taught him— The child-size makeup case she’d given him, filled with bottles of tacky nail polish in bright, sparkly colors, the lip gloss set Mavis had sent him along with others his sisters had gifted him, a couple old, thick pen eyeliners Igraine had given him, a cheap set of cheerful eye-shadows Carlos had bought him from the dollar store as a present last year. Next to the makeup case is the little box of hair ribbons he used to use, and with a pang of hurt at the sight, Lance wonders why Marcie would even put those in. He cut his hair. It’s done, no changing it.

It’s done.

That Lance— Lancie, Loo-Loo, whatever, whatever he was, is nothing now. Just a pile of memories buried away with his old clothes in the shadowed places no one will think to look.

With only a second’s hesitation, fingers drifting over the top of the makeup case, Lance folds the box top shut, picking it up and shoving it under his bed, crawling under after it to make sure it is pushed to the furthest corner against the walls, and then shoves the other boxes being stored under his bed around it for good measure, until it’s hidden from sight.

There’s no room for that… person anymore.

“Hey, you alright?” Lance feels a foot prod the back of his leg as Hunk’s voice pipes up, and he yelps, shooting up and slamming his head against the underside of his bed, pain blossoming through his skull as his vision blurs.

“…Ow.”

“Lance?!”

“I’m fine, just…” He groans, wiggling back out from under the bed and staring up at Hunk tiredly. “You surprised me.”

Hunk grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m just… hungry. They said there’s snacks left out in the dorm lounge tonight, right? Since a lot of students skipped dinner to unpack.”

“Yeah.” Lance nods, wincing when that sends another spike of pain through his head. “You want to go get some?”

“Please.”

They barely make it five steps down the hall before the whispers, the sidelong glances start— There’s plenty of other students still out in the hall, curfew rules given some leeway due to the fact it’s move-in day, and out here Lance and Hunk stick out like sore thumbs. In uniforms Lance imagines they’ll look much like everyone else, but everyone’s milling about in casual clothing right now, and Lance and Hunk’s worn, clearly hand-me-down sweaters and jeans with their tears in the knees make a sharp contrast to the neat, new clothes the other kids sport. Glancing down uncomfortably, Lance tries not to stare too hard at his own bare feet in comparison to the clean-looking shoes many of the others he can spot are wearing.

He hadn’t even thought to put shoes on. His sneakers were for the mud of the park and the cracked gravel of the street, not for indoors. Lance is pretty sure his mother would kill him if he ever wore his grubby shoes on inside. Even Marcie’s pretty work pumps that she had saved for months for and looks after with religious zeal come off at the door at home.

He’s so preoccupied with his little thought derailment of the etiquette of shoes on versus shoes off, Lance doesn’t even notice the boys rounding the corner until he quite literally slams into one, their chin connecting with his forehead, sending him reeling back in surprised pain, Hunk catching him with a startled yelp.

“What the fuck?” Someone says in a surprised, vaguely annoyed voice, and Lance glances up cautiously as he straightens back up, wincing when he makes eye contact with an older-looking boy with pale skin and short red-blond hair who is currently glaring at him like he’s a particularly disgusting piece of gum under his shoe.

“S-Sorry.” He stutters on instinct, taking a step back and slamming into Hunk, who Lance had conveniently forgotten was right behind him.

“Sorry? You damn well should be!” The older boy says with a kind of miffed outrage, crossing his arms as the other boy next to him looms over Lance and Hunk. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you to watch where you’re going?”

“He said sorry.” Hunk says, taking a step forward, and Lance gratefully ducks behind Hunk. It’s hardly his proudest moment, but these boys are at least a head taller than him and could probably bench-press him easy— Lance is tiny even for an eleven-year-old, and Hunk, lucky bastard, sits rather tall and large for a twelve-year-old. Between the two of them, Lance likes Hunk’s chances of at least getting the other boys to back down, given they can’t really risk their scholarships by getting into a fistfight on their first day.

“What are you, his bodyguard? Back off, lumpy.” Big and scary scowls. “I’m talking to the twig.” He raises an eyebrow at Lance, and snorts. “How the hell did you get into this school? What are you, a Mexican?”

Lance flushes, pushing past Hunk with every intention of informing the boy that he is Cuban, thank you very much, and that he can, frankly, fuck right off, when a serenely cheerful voice beats him to the punch.

“Demonstrating a deep and layered understanding of the various nuances of the Hispanic identity as always, Travis.” A girl says from an open door on the left, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. “Then again, you’d probably know quite a bit about Mexico, right? Given your daddy gets his cocaine stash from there.”

The boy turns red, spluttering. “Fuck off, Ritchie.”

“Oh, right.” The girl hums, lifting a hand to inspect her nails. “I suppose I could fuck off? Could fuck off right to the headmaster’s office. I’ve been meaning to look in on my granddad since I arrived.”

The boy pales, and his friend grabs his arm, pulling him away. “C’mon, man. Not worth it.” The two turn, disappearing around the corner, and the girl watches them go with a satisfied smirk.

“Bye!” She trills, and then turns back to Hunk and Lance with a raised eyebrow. “You two all good?”

“Uh.” Lance glances at Hunk, who shrugs, eyes wide in confusion. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problemo.” The girl says happily. “Travis and Jordan are mcfucking pricks. I like any excuse to tell them to fuck off.”

“…Okay?” Lance says awkwardly, unsure of what else to say. Subconsciously he brings a hand up to play with his hair, like he usually does when he’s nervous, only to meet air and flinch, pulling his hand down as he remembers there’s nothing there anymore.

“Ritzie!” An exasperated voice calls from inside the room behind the girl, and a boy with short black hair, dark eyes, and a scowl appears in the doorway. “Stop harassing new students.”

The girl gasps, placing a hand over her heart. “Me? Never. I’m only introducing myself.” Sticking a hand out to Lance, she grins. “Isabel Lamae, but everyone calls me Ritzie. At your service.”

“…Lance. Lance McClain.” Lance answers, carefully taking her hand and inspecting the girl before him. Ritzie is tall and willowy, probably two or three years older than him, if he had to guess, with thick blonde hair pulled up in two pony-buns on the sides of her head in a style Lance finds reminiscent of Sailor Moon, and wide, thick-rimmed purple glasses. She’s pretty, he guesses, in an eclectic kind of way, and her easy confidence reminds him a bit of Igraine. “That’s Hunk.” He says, pointing over his shoulder, and Hunk waves.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Ritzie parrots back cheerfully. “The grumpy one who yelled at me is Yuu, my roommate.” Behind her, the boy’s eyes narrow, fixing a glare at the back of her head.

“I thought boys and girls couldn’t room together?” Hunk asks curiously, looking between Ritzie and Yuu.

“They can’t.” Ritzie says, sticking her hands in her pockets with a self-satisfactory smirk and pursing her lips, blowing a bright pink bubble out that explodes after a moment with a quiet little pop.

“Then…”

“Her grandfather’s the headmaster.” Yuu sighs, seemingly giving up and approaching them to stand next to Ritzie in the doorway. “Which means she does whatever she wants.”

Hunk pales, staring at Ritzie with wide eyes. “Oh my God your grandfather’s the headmaster.”

“Chill.” Ritzie says, idly waving a hand. “You two are new, right? Scholarship, I’m guessing? No offense but you can usually guess.” Lance winces, and Ritzie shoots him finger guns. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad, you two look like you deserve it.” She nods to herself, looking pleased. “I have an eye for these things.”

“Well, she thinks she does.” Yuu says, rolling his eyes.

“…Great.” Hunk says faintly.

“Yep.” Ritzie nods, pausing for a moment, head tilting, and then pulls out a small packet from her pocket and offers it to them. “Bubblegum?”

Lance blinks, glancing at Hunk who subtly shakes his head, eyes wide.

“…Sure. Why not.” Lance says, already reaching out.

And that is how he and Hunk end up accidentally befriending Ritzie Lamae and Yuu Itami, the livewire princess of Greenwood and her sounding board slash handler.

Slowly, they fall into something like a settling at the Academy, or at least a semblance of it. It’s… undeniably odd, being even this far away from Veradera on a daily basis, but Lance finds it’s somewhat the change he needs. He misses home, of course. He misses it like hell, but he still gets to come back on the weekends, to revisit his sisters, his family, the worn staircases of his home, the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, the cracks in the concrete outside his driveway, the crab-grass riddled front yard of Hunk’s small house where his now aging dog sleeps in the afternoon sun, the white, bright sand of Veradera beach, the creaking pews of the church, the feel of Loraine’s gravestone against his back.

And this way, he’s still alleviated from the… pressures of his home. Lance will never say he feels unsafe or unwelcome in his house, because there would never be a bigger lie. His family would protect him with their lives. But… it’s also hard being there sometimes now. The gaping loss of Loraine, while scabbing over, is still achingly fresh in all their chests, and while Lance doesn’t have the heart to place any more undue burdens on his family in their grief, pretending to be okay all the time is, frankly, exhausting.

Because, ultimately, Lance is very aware he isn’t okay. He’s better than he was— He’s learned to function again, to survive, but a mediocre duct-taped job holding together solely on hope and a prayer doesn’t fix something firmly broken. Lance is never going to be whole again, not in his soul or his heart, he knows, in a way he can’t put into words. Even once the worst of the grief and the agony has been worked through, one day, this is something he will never move past. The connection between himself and Loraine was intimate and fathomless in a way he shares with no one else. He holds something similar with Hunk, he thinks, but it’s different. Hunk is someone he feels close to, like they hold a connection beyond their time together, but Loraine was like… the other half of his mind. Losing her fractured something deep inside his soul, well beyond the definitions of his short childhood or his yet unlived years.

Sometimes, he wonders if this is what the oceans might feel like, if someone came along and placed blocks between them, severing Pacific and Indian and Artic. That’s not the way things are meant to be, he thinks. Water is meant to intermingle and run together. You can’t take one piece of water and say it is different from another, when they are meant to be one.

Lance’s only other comfort in his thoughts, to rival that of knowing his family doesn’t have to see these broken pieces of himself, is that Hunk is here with him. Hunk, who picks him up and puts him back together when he falls. Hunk, who listens to his nonsensical ramblings about water and souls and Loraine with an understanding and patience beyond his years, and cleans up Lance’s messes afterwards, coaxing the blades from Lance’s skin before he can do more harm to himself, and forcing him to sleep and eat and keep up appearances in class.

Honestly, if it weren’t for Hunk, Lance really isn’t sure if he would have survived those first few months at Greenwood.

The other surprisingly consistent presences he finds at his side are Ritzie and Yuu, who seem to take an attachment to Lance and Hunk after that first encounter on move-in day. Or… at least Ritzie does. Lance suspects Yuu usually just goes along with whatever Ritzie fancies, either unable or unwilling to talk her out of her ideas, instead simply hanging around for something like quality control, and to make sure Ritzie doesn’t get herself killed.

Ritzie is easy to get along with, Lance finds. She’s beyond privileged, as pretty much almost everyone at the Academy is, but not arrogant or obnoxious about it. She has an ego, but only for the things she achieves herself— Not beyond showing off, largely the opposite honestly, but only for her own brilliance, never her family’s money or influence, unless she threatens it to protect an underprivileged or younger student who’s getting shit from the kids who do think their money entitles them to everything.

Lance has never been able to hold a friend beyond Hunk, too smart and too little and too different to give him much popularity before, but he… he likes Ritzie. She’s just as smart as him, as many others here are, and fun. She doesn’t care about his age or size, judging him by his kindness to others and his “interestingness”, as she puts it. He doesn’t tell her about… Himself, about the Lancie-Loo of Veradera beach, and Loraine, and promises to stars, but those are secrets reserved to Hunk and his heart, for a dead child who can no longer be to survive and do what he plans to. Still, he enjoys her company, embracing her loudness and her quirkiness and her spitfire energy. Hunk is slower to warm up to her, but even he can’t avoid her cheerful charisma.

Yuu is trickier, Lance finds. Despite his disgruntled complaints, he shows himself to be very attached to Ritzie, her right-hand man. He’s dismissive towards Lance and Hunk at first. Not in a mean way, but just as if he assumes they’ll soon get tired of Ritzie, or Ritzie will get bored and that will be the end of it, but with time, he seems to unfurl, accepting Lance and Hunk as occasional presences in his and Ritzie’s space. Yuu and Hunk get along well, once they both get over their personal cautions. Yuu is analytical design and portable game devices and formulas for circuitry and wires, and that clicks well with Hunk’s easy joy in technology, in science, in creation.

Ritzie is more… charm and exploratory whim. Bold words and the written truth in print and demand for answers to everything and anything. They’re traits Lance and her share, in part, and he figures that’s largely why they mesh so easily.

And so, while he and Hunk remain partners in crime, formed by unbreakable trust, Ritzie and Yuu also become on-and-off presences in their days, offering new company and idle chatter.

It’s… nice.

Adjusting to the academic side of Greenwood is its own bag of worms though, Lance discovers.

For once, Lance is no longer the youngest, smallest child in his grade. Instead, he finds his classes filled with a mix of different kids, sharing space with children several years younger than him, as well as those older, including Ritzie and Yuu occasionally, despite them being a year older than Hunk and two older than Lance. Class in general is less regular— They don’t take the same classes all the time, and aside from some basics, the curriculum is a lot less regimented.

Greenwood is, as Ritzie calls it, “a true magnet school”, dedicated to producing students who rake in accreditations and awards for the school. As such, Lance finds that pretty much every student is dedicated to one or two clubs or particular talents, be they academic, artistic, or athletic.

It only takes a few weeks before one of their science teachers pulls Hunk aside and recruits him to the competitive robotics and engineering clubs, his talent for schematics and building the impossible out of scraps, long honed from years hanging around Igraine and Lance’s uncle at the repair shop, quickly coming to light. As for the rest of Lance’s miniscule social circle, Ritzie is part of the school’s elite debate and mock trial teams, and Yuu the mathematics team, along with the same robotics team Hunk is dragged into.

Lance himself doesn’t really find an easy niche. His specialty, much as it can be called that, has always been being moderately decent at everything. It was what had allowed him to jump a grade, given there was no one subject he was significantly less proficient in than the rest. He has odd skills he’s picked up, but they’re all what he’s learned from his family— An intricate knowledge of makeup and hairstyling techniques thanks to Marcie, basic understanding of an engine via Igraine, some easy programming skills and how to hedge a wifi signal he’s locked out of courtesy of Evie, etcetera. Regardless, if he has any particular skills, they’re not any he can identify or that immediately stick out.

The thing is, Lance’d be fine with that, normally. So what if he’s not an expert in anything? He’s relatively good at most academics, speaks two languages perfectly, can keep up in P.E. just fine, and knows quite a bit about astronomy. But, the problem lies in the inherent purpose of Greenwood— To pull in as many accolades as possible. To not have a talent that can bring awards to the school is to be useless to it, and not a position he can afford to be in as a scholarship student.

Honestly, he stumbles across his saving grace completely on accident. It’s one of the lunch breaks when Hunk and Yuu are off with the robotics team for… something, it kind of goes over his head, and Ritzie is nowhere to be found, possibly off trying to break into somewhere she’s not supposed to be. Lance is left alone and bored, and accidentally finds some other students, a couple of which he gets along with well enough, playing chess in one of the common areas. On a whim, he asks to play, and one of the older students, who is known to be a bit of a cocky bastard, agrees with a smug smirk, probably assuming he can beat Lance easy as he explains the rules of each piece with a breezy air.

He isn’t smiling when Lance beats him five minutes later, his eyes wide as he stares at Lance’s equally shocked expression.

By the time Lance has thoroughly thrashed the next three others that challenge him, each of them waiting for Lance’s lucky streak to end almost as much as he himself is, one of the upper-grade math teachers finds them, and pulls Lance into her office for a… talk about his sudden new skill.

Within the next month and a half, he plays through three chess tournaments and ends up with two grandmasters coaching him that the school hires the minute he somehow wins his first competition.

Turns out he’s really fucking good at chess, not that Lance would guess that any more than most people would either.

“Of course you are.” Is what Mavis says to him when he tells her over the phone, ever as much the confidante to him she became over the end of summer. “You’re good at reading people and have a head for analysis, Loraine always talked about how smart you are. Try some language and statistics courses, that kind of thing. I think you’ll be fine.”

So Lance does.

The first Christmas home from Greenwood, and the first without Loraine is… odd. Christmas has always been a big deal with their family, and it’s his and Hunk’s first extended break home from the Academy, so while it’s nice to be back its also feels vaguely overwhelming. Lance really isn’t sure how being around his family, people he sees almost every weekend, can be exhausting, but it’s… difficult, to try and come back and get into the holiday cheer. Sleeping in his room in the house for more than a day or two feels odd, and Lance is grateful that by day two Hunk gives up the ghost and migrates over to the McClain house with his pillow for pretty much the rest of winter break.

It’s not bad. It’s nice being with his family and having a couple weeks to hang around Veradera, but there’s still an absence that sticks in Lance’s throat. He misses Loraine, achingly so, and being back home only emphasizes that.

It’s hard, knowing that this situation isn’t going to change, that she’s… never coming back.

Mavis avoids coming home completely for Christmas, a point Lance loudly berates her for over the phone, but she waxes poetic about not having the money and then mails him down a less-than-cheap looking dark blue sweater and a chessboard as Christmas presents.

“Don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite.” She says, with put-on melodrama, when he calls her about the presents. “Besides if you have to dress like… that, it might as well be nice stuff.”

That’s another aspect that makes Lance’s skin itch uncomfortably about being home. He hasn’t allowed himself to touch the discarded clothing of his old life in the back of his wardrobe any time he comes home for the weekend, and he holds himself to that over the break as well. It’s not worth the risk, really, and part of him is afraid that, if he indulged, he might not have the heart to give it up and go back to living as this new image of himself at Greenwood only a couple weeks later.

Practice makes perfect. Surely, with time, he will come to accept this boyish, awkward version of himself he sees in the mirror.

So, he remains as he has taught himself to be, despite the worried glances his family still sometimes cast at him, and comforts himself with the familiarities of home. He spends time with his sisters, his mother, aunts, and uncle, he visits Carlos and Rachel two streets over, plays with Josie, no longer a small baby but an excitable toddler eagerly awaiting the promise of a sibling from her parents, walks the beaches with Hunk, chases the cracks in the gravel on the sidewalks on the way to the dairy shop, and sits in the garage under león’s shadow, the hoverbike preserved lovingly by Igraine and waiting, promised to Lance once he’s big enough, because of course it’s his, Loraine would have wanted him to have it.

Sometimes, in the early mornings, when the sun isn’t quite yet risen and the last of the stars are yet to sleep, Lance will sneak out to the churchyard, will dust the snow off Loraine’s gravestone and sit with his back to it, ignoring the chill of the wind and the nip of the snow against his fingers, because he always forgets gloves, always, and tells her about Greenwood, about his life.

Lance wonders, occasionally, if she would be proud of him, of what he’s doing to preserve their dream, her dream.

He hopes so. He really, really hopes so.

He wants more than anything to be the legacy Loraine deserves, to be worthy of the pride and the love and the confidence she had always held in him.

He feels closer to her, oddly enough, there with his back against the stone, or with his head pressed to it as he traces the words on the stone, and occasionally, on the ever slowly re-healing scars on his skin.

Loraine Ophelia Eliza, Loraine Ophelia Eliza, Loraine Ophelia Eliza.

Please forgive me, he asks in his silent mantra. Please protect me. Please let me get this right, for you, for me.

It’s not that bad, Lance tells himself, and that’s the important part, right?

And when he goes back to Greenwood with Hunk come the new year, and Ritzie and Yuu break into their room almost immediately, the former’s mouth running a mile a minute about all the boring socialite parties she had to attend, with the air of someone who has walked through a war zone, while Yuu patiently half-listens and shows Hunk and Lance his new video games behind Ritzie’s back, it’s not too bad either.

He’s surviving, rising on up on the way to the stars, and that’s all that matters.

#Hi i'm a piece of shit who never crossposts on time #no this isn't an update this is Old #spilling like an overflowing sink (voltron)#my writing #Voltron

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eastofthemoon · 8 years ago

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Where No One Goes Chapter 6

Title: Where No One Goes: Chapter 6 - Part 2 of What If The Storm Ends?Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Characters: Keith, Thace, Shiro, Pidge, Lance, Hunk, Coran, and Allura

Rating: G

Summary: After Keith’s encounter Thace, questions remain and he’s not certain he wants the answers to them. However, after Pidge’s request to locate the rebels, the two of them seek out the resistance with both of them not certain what they will find out.

Archive of our Own

Shiro frowned as he surveyed the area. Rocks, dirt, some local purple foliage and they were at least hidden by the rocky terrain.

Shiro tapped the intercom in his helmet again. “Pidge? Keith? Can you hear me?”

Static was the only thing that answered. He didn’t like this.

“Maybe they took off their helmets,” Lance offered as he leaned against one of the large boulders.

“Could be, but I’m betting something is scrambling our signals,” Hunk said as he checked the scanner he brought along and whacked it again. “I can barely pick up the lions’ signals and we’re standing only a few feet away from them.”

Shiro’s gaze hardened as she glanced to where both the Red and Green Lion were hidden. “They can’t have gone far without their lions,” Shiro said as he began to pace, “unless they were captured.”

“Maybe they managed to find the rebels,” Lance offered.

“Could be,” Shiro said, softly. “We better give Allura an update and then-”

“Hey!” Hunk cried as he suddenly pointed. “What are you doing there?!”

Shiro and Lance spun around. A figured peeked out from one of the dozen caves and ducked back inside as they were spotted.

“Wait, come back!” Lance called.

Shiro didn’t waste a beat. He ran at top speed with Lance and Hunk both behind them. They reached the cave entrance just as they heard feet run to the right up ahead.

“Stay close to me,” Shiro ordered as they dashed inside. “We don’t want to get lost in here!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Hunk said as he panted.

The cave was dark and hard to see, so Shiro had to rely on his ears as they pushed ahead. Thankfully, they proved to be able to move faster and saw a dark figure up ahead.

“Stop!” he called out. “We just want to talk!”

The figure didn’t listen and Shiro sighed. “Sorry about this,” he called as he leaped forward and grappled onto the figured.

An angry grunt was heard as they fell over and Shiro swiftly pinned the person’s arms. The person yelled and struggled, but Shiro kept his hold and tried to make sure he didn’t injure him.

“Easy, I don’t want to hurt you,” Shiro said as Hunk and Lance caught up. “Hunk, can you give me some light?”

“Sure,” Hunk said as he reached for a flashlight and switched it on. The light revealed that they had caught a young male alien that looked like Rolo’s species.

“Get off me!” the youth grunted as he tried to kick Shiro off.

“Hey, Buddy, relax,” Lance said as he kneeled. “We’re just trying to locate some friends of ours.”

“Afraid you found way more than that, Lad,” a voice boomed.

Shiro raised his eyes and was blinded as the room with flooded with light. As his vision cleared he saw they were surrounded by lanterns and the people holding them. He noted plenty of them were Galra and had weapons pointed straight at them.

Shiro flinched and he felt dark memories trying to fight their way to the surface of when he was first captured. However, they managed to be subdued as a large alien rabbit stepped forward and broke the memories hold on him.

Hunk blinked and pointed confused. “Um..is anyone else seeing a giant Easter Bunny standing in front of us, right now?”

Lance raised a hand. “Um, I do.”

“Oh, good, not just me,” Hunk replied as he gripped his stomach. “Was afraid it was the goo I ate earlier.”

Shiro said nothing as he released the alien youth and watched him run to the safety of the rabbit’s side as he stood.

“Look, we don’t want to fight,” Shiro said as he raised his hands up and narrowed his eyes. “Are you guys the Galra resistance?”

The alien rabbit stepped forward and eyed Shiro like he was interrogating him. “And how do you know about that?”

“We’re the paladins of Voltron!” Lance cut in as he waved his arms. “We’re on your side!”

Mummering could be heard among the group and one Galarn youth scratched his head. “Wait, there’s more of them?!”

All eyes turned to focus on him as a nearby female Galran rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course there are more.”

“But I thought Voltron was operated by two paladins.”

An alien with four eyes stared at him in shock. “Why would there only be two paladins?!”

“One for the top and one for the bottom,” the Galran replied simply.

“What?! No, there’s five,” the four eyed alien exclaimed. “Two legs and three arms!”

Shiro, Hunk and Lance exchanged a puzzled expression.

“Um..actually,” Hunk said as he stepped forward, “Voltron has two arms, Dude.”

The four eyed alien scratched his head. “What? But then why do you need the fifth one?”

“For the head!” Lance said as he pointed to Shiro. “How could you forget the head?”

“My people don’t use our heads much!” the alien replied in a huff.

“Well, that much is obvious,” Lance muttered as he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, enough,” the rabbit said as he rubbed massaged his forehead and looked at them. “You three are coming with us, and see if the other two can identify you.”

Shiro frowned. “Other two? You mean, Keith and Pidge? So, they are with you?”

“How about you follow me and find out,” the rabbit said as he lead the way.

Shiro’s gaze hardened, but gestured for Hunk and Lance to move ahead.

Keith, Pidge, Shiro thought. Please be okay.

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Keith grunted as he carried the crate through the tunnel Thace told him to take where the ships were stored. He did as he was told and frankly Keith needed the distraction. He understood it was more important to ensure the rebels were prepared to flee, but every now and then, Keith would try to bring up a question and Thace would instantly changed it.

The first two times, Keith could assume it didn’t mean anything, but by the fourth time, he knew Thace was just trying to avoid the questions entirely. He dropped the crate on the floor and winced at the loud clang.

“It be easier to get this crate to talk than Thace,” Keith muttered as he wiped the dirt from his hands.

“Hey, careful with that stuff,” Ford cried as he poked his head from under a ship. “I got enough junk to fix around here as is.”

Keith glanced and sheepishly rubbed his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Just a bit frustrated.”

Ford gave him a quizzed looked as he rolled himself out from under the ship and stepped off the wheeled board he’d been sitting on.

“Then how about we put that frustration into a good use,” he said as he reached into his tool box and brought out a purple tool that resembled a hammer.

“Here,” he said as he handed the tool to Keith. “See those bolts?”

Keith looked to where Ford pointed and saw on the side of the ship were bolts were sticking out. “Those one there?” he asked.

“Pound them in,” Ford instructed as he brought out another tool. “I need to test the strength of the side paneling, while you do that.”

Keith gripped the tool and suddenly the idea of pounding something felt very inviting. He picked up the tool and began to hammer it in.

The two of them worked silently as Keith banged and Ford used a scanner over the ship. After a found minutes, Keith’s hands began to feel sore, but he could feel his frustration fade. He panted as the last bolt was hammered in and wiped the sweat off his face.

“Thanks,” Keith said, while panting. “I needed that.”

Ford gave a silent nodded as he read over his scanner. “Alright, this one’s done.” He gave a deep sigh. “Only a handful more to go.”

Keith frowned as he glanced back to the other ships. They weren’t much bigger than some transport ships he’d seen. The rust on some of them hinted that they weren’t that new either. They would not be Keith’s choice for flying into a fight with.

“You guys don’t have any ships for fighting?” Keith asked.

Ford sighed. “We do, but only a couple,” Ford explained as he scratched his head with his cybernetic arm. “If it was just a case of having to defend against one ship that be different, but Leah wants to ensure we can get everyone out fast as possible and these transport ships are faster.”

Keith frowned as he sat on a crate. “It is your guys base though? Shouldn’t you at least try to fight back?”

Ford turned and suddenly held a weary expression. “Thace told you that Zarkon almost wiped us out before, right?”

Keith nodded.

“We tried to fight to the death then, but we were outnumbered and we paid a heavy price for it,” Ford explained and winced. “Lost a lot of good friends that day, and even after we regrouped we’re still not at the high numbers we were back then. None of us wish to go through that again.”

Keith rubbed his neck, suddenly wishing he hadn’t brought it up. Thace had mentioned they lost a lost of people, but it didn’t strike him just how severe until now. It was hard enough to believe he had lost Shiro for that long miserable year, he couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose that many friends in one day. Although, Allura and Coran could probably relate.

“Sorry,” Keith muttered. “Wasn’t thinking.”

Ford shook his head. “In my old age, I’ve learned there’s no point dwelling what you’ve lost.”

He shook a wrench at Keith. “You also learn there’s a time to fight and a time to run, and we’re certain now isn’t the time to fight.” He gave a smirk. “Although, that’s a lesson Thace had to learn the hard way himself.”

Keith frowned. “Really?” He drummed his fingers against his elbows. “How long have you’ve known him?”

Ford gave a chuckle as he reached for some scrap metal. “Believe it or not, I’ve known him since he was a kid. I used to work for his father as his mechanic and for the ‘Glory of the Empire’ back when I was young, and stupid.”

He pounded the metal with his arm to straighten it. “I faked my death when I decided to join the resistance and never thought I see Thace again until he ended up joining too.”

Keith fingers twitched as he reached for his bag. If Ford had known Thace for that long, maybe he could tell Keith something. “Ford, can I ask you something?”

Ford paused in his pounding and gave a skeptic eyebrow. “Depends what that is?”

Keith brought out his dagger and unwrapped the hilt. “Ever see a dagger like this before?”

Ford frowned thoughtfully and ran a hand through his beard as his cybernetic handed picked it up. “Well, haven’t seen one of these for a long time,” he muttered and gave it a swung. “Few people keep these around.”

“Is it special?” Keith asked curiously.

“It’s a clan dagger,” Ford explained and pointed to the symbol. “Before Zarkon, the Galra used to be divided up into different clans and each one had their own symbol.” He tapped to the hit. “If I remember correctly, this symbol represented the mountain clan, but I could be mistaken.”

Keith’s body tensed. “So, it’s a Galra dagger?”

That meant the dagger didn’t come from Earth. It would explain why his mother told him to hide the symbol. Probably afraid of someone from the Garrison clueing in it was alien.

“It’s Galran as much as I am,” Ford said as he picked up the scrap metal. “However, Zarkon dissolved the clans so we’re all ‘one big happy family’,” Ford said darkly. “The symbols are mostly used for decoration these days, but some still hold onto weapons with their clan symbol engraved as heirlooms.”

Heirlooms, Keith thought. As in stuff family passed down?

“Where did you get that dagger?” Ford asked, curiously.

Keith chewed his bottom lip. “It used to belong to my dad,” Keith said as he held up the dagger. “And..I noticed Thace has a dagger with the same symbol.”

Ford froze at the statement.

“Ford,” Keith said slowly. “Do you know if-”

Ford held up his hand. “Nope, I’m stopping you right there. I’m not getting involved in that mess.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “So you do know something?”

Ford’s eyes hardened and he held up a finger. “Kid, let’s be honest here, even if I do know something, am I the person you should be asking?”

Keith opened and shut his mouth with a growl. “No, but…Thace keeps dodging my questions.”

Ford gave a huff. “Yeah, well, Thace can be a real stubborn idiot sometimes.”

“Keith!”

Keith turned and saw Pidge racing towards them. “Geez, finally found you! I looked everywhere for you,” she said while panting.

Keith swiftly put his dagger away and straightened his posture. “What’s wrong?”

Pidge gave a nervous laugh. “Time for us to face the piper.” She scratched her cheek with her finger. “Shiro, Lance and Hunk just showed up and are talking to Leah.”

“Oh,” Keith said softly as he ran a hand through his hair and looked to Ford. “Don’t suppose we can hide out here with you?”

“You could,” Ford said, “but I imagine your leader will track you down eventually.”

Keith sighed as Pidge tugged at his arm. “Let’s go and get the lecture over it,” Pidge said as she lead the way.

Keith gave a nod as he picked up his bag with his dagger inside. Might as well deal with one problem at a time.

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Keith saw Thace had already beaten them to the meeting room. He was standing next to Leah who was in the middle of a conversation with Shiro with Hunk and Lance standing next to him.

“So, you can understand the predicament we’re under,” Leah said.

Shiro had his helmet removed and was rubbing his chin in thought. “Yes, but if you let me contact the Princess, we might be able to help you out.”

Hunk glanced over and spotted Keith and Pidge. “Hey, there you two are!” he cried as he moved over.

“Hey, Hunk,” Pidge said as he approached. “Glad to see you made it-OW!”

Hunk gave both Keith and Pidge a hard bonk on the on head with his his hands. Keith stared in shock as he rubbed his sore head. “What was THAT for?!” he asked. It wasn’t like Hunk to hit someone like that.

“THAT was for running off without telling any of us!” Hunk scolded with a frown. “Do you have any idea how worried we were! I could barely eat! Well...okay, I ate a little, but that was only for the purpose of giving me fuel to find you, and to not try to picture what had happened to you two. And you DON’T want to know what I was thinking because I have a very vivid imagination-”

“Okay, okay, we get the point,” Pidge said with a guilty look. “We’re sorry.”

“You better,” Lance said as he peeked around Hunk. “I mean, I can understand not telling Shiro, but geez how could you leave us out of it? Now Keith is going to have ‘finding the rebel base’ over my head too.”

Hunk gave a disapproving glare. “Kind of miss the point of what I was saying, man.”

Shiro calmed Hunk by putting a hand on his arm. “That’s enough, Hunk,” Shiro said gently and locked his eyes with Keith and Pidge. “But WE are going to have a chat later, and you two are going to get some extra drills, and chores when we get back to the castle.”

“Noted,” Keith said with a grimace, “Shiro, we’re sorry, but we can’t leave-”

“We know,” Shiro said as Leah and Thace drew closer. “Leah was just informing us about the situation.”

“Your leader has agreed to assist us,” Leah replied as she looked to Shiro, “which would be appreciated.”

“Hey, no biggie,” Lance said with a grin as he waved his hands, “we can fit a whole bunch of you guys on our lions and away we go.”

“It’s not that simple,” Thace replied sternly. “We also have weapons, ships, databases that we have to transport and we don’t dare leave it behind.”

“If Zarkon or the empire were to find evidence of us they could use it to locate the other rebel cells,” Leah explained.

“So, we need gather everything up and load them on the ships?” Hunk asked.

“Yes, not to mention we’re in the middle of repairing those ships,” Thace replied.

“We’ll do what we can for you,” Shiro said as he touched Pidge and Keith’s shoulders. “However, if you’ll excuse me for a moment I need a private word with my paladins.”

“By all means,” Leah said with a nod. “I have my own duties to attend to. Once you’re ready Thace here can instruct what you need to do.”

Shiro gave a nod as he lead Pidge and Keith out of the meeting room. Keith felt more dread come as Shiro lead them to a small unoccupied corner of the main chamber. Some of the other rebels glanced at them, but it only lasted a moment before they once again became engrossed with their own task at hand.

“Alright, you two,” Shiro said, sternly. “Hunk beat me to it, but you know it was dangerous to go off on your own.”

Keith sighed. “Shiro, we’re sorry, but I knew if I didn’t go with Pidge she was going to go by herself and I thought it was better for at least one person to go with her.”

“He’s not wrong,” Pidge said as she folded her arms. “Still, I am sorry we worried you guys, but I felt like we had no other choice.”

Shiro sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I will take some of the blame for that,” he admitted quietly and he looked to Pidge.

“You were right, I should have been more opened minded about the rebels.” He flinched as he glanced to the other Galrans in the main chamber with them. “I have to admit, I’m a bit..reluctant to trust other Galra, especially ones we don’t know.”

Keith could understand that, especially coming from Shiro. “If it helps..I do feel at least we can trust Thace a bit. He did save me when I got stranded on the forest planet.”

Shiro frowned and pointed back to the meeting hall with his thumb. “The male Galran in there, that’s the same Thace, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “That was him.”

“Okay, good to know,” Shiro said as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright, so for now let’s focus on helping these rebels and let’s all agree we were wrong here.”

“Great, let’s do that,” Pidge said as she touched Shiro’s arm. “Because I got big news.” Her eyes softened. “Shiro, my dad’s alive.”

Both Keith and Shiro blinked in shock. “He is?” Shiro asked and touched Pidge’s shoulder with his human arm. “Where?”

“That’s the tricky part,” Pidge said. “One of the rebels here, Daien, he helped my dad and a bunch of other slaves escaped, but he doesn’t know where they went.”

“Hold it,” Keith said in disbelief. “Daien? That guy that tried to pin me and I slammed into a wall?”

Pidge nodded. “Yup and I know he’s not lying.” He fidgeted as she looked back to Shiro. “He asked me if my name was ‘Katie’ because my dad mentioned me to him, and I know I haven’t mentioned it here to anyone else at all.”

Shiro still looked stunned and then smiled as he pulled Pidge into a tight hug. “That’s fantastic,” he whispered. “I’m so relieved.”

“Me too,” Pidge said as she gave a squeeze back. “Hopefully, I’ll find a lead on Matt too.”

Keith patted her shoulder as he smiled. He was glad their mission had been worth it for that alone.

Their hug was interrupted as a Galran rebel accidentally bumped into them. He dropped the box he was carrying and watched as various medical supplies were spilled over.

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he bent to pick up some of the package syringes. “Didn’t see you guys there. In a rush to get to the healing chamber with this stuff.”

Shiro’s body tense as his eyes locked onto the syringes in the guy’s hands. He gripped his prosthetic arm and looked prepared to fight. Sensing the tension, Keith jumped in front of Shiro and kneeled to pick up the rest of stuff.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith said as he handed it to him. “Need some help?”

“Naw, I got it,” the guy said, and thankfully didn’t seem to notice Shiro’s reaction. “Thanks, though.”

Keith watched Shiro as the Galran left and saw Shiro didn’t lessen the grip on his arm until the Galran was out of sight.

“Shiro?” Pidge said as she touched his human arm. “You okay?”

Shiro shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Yes..um..sorry,” he muttered and forced a grin. “I’m fine, really.”

Keith gave a skeptical glare. “You’re certain? Because you don’t seem fine.”

Shiro breathed deeply as he glanced around the chamber and his hands formed into fists.

“No, you’re right, I’m not okay” he said softly looked to Pidge and Keith. “Guys, I’m sorry but I need to get some air.” He pointed to where Hunk and Lance were waiting. “Go regroup with Hunk and Lance and talk to Thace.”

He turned around to leave. “If you need me I’ll be inside the Black Lion.” He took another deep breath. “I need to clear my head.”

“Alright,” Keith said, with a curt nod and didn’t dare question it. “Let us know if you need anything.”

Shiro waved to acknowledge that he heard him as he walked off. Keith still watched him as he and Pidge went to join their other paladins. Lance was leaning against the wall, and raised his head in concern as he looked over their heads to where Shiro went.

“Where is Shiro going?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He went to sit in Black for a bit,” Pidge said as they watched Shiro leave the chamber. “I think seeing all the Galra here is bringing back some bad memories for him.”

“Throw in the fact that we’re in enclosed tight spaces,” Hunk added and cringed, “and yeah that seems likely.”

Keith folded his arms in thought. “We’ll probably have to spend the night here,” he said. “I’m not sure how Shiro will handle that.”

They all knew Shiro did woke up from nightmares constantly. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the paladins to find Shiro wide awake in his room in the middle of the night and sit with him to calm him down. They had even started to secretly take turns of checking up on him while they slept. That was going to be harder to do in a place like this and it was possible it was going to make his nightmares worse.

The small rooms and tunnels could feel way too similar to prison cells, especially in the middle of the night. Didn’t help with Galrans right outside their door either.

“Probably not great, I wager,” Pidge added. “What are the chances Allura and Coran can bring the castle here?”

“We just gave her an update,” Lance explained. “They’re tied up at the moment with that alliance with Acradius, and since they just can’t say they need to leave to help without mentioning the secret rebel, they have to stay put for now.”

Keith snarled. “So, that’s out,” he muttered. “That’s going to make it tricky.”

“Maybe he can sleep in Black,” Hunk said with a shrug. “It’s not the most comfortable, but she has a heater, it’s safe and he would be happier there.”

That’s true, Keith thought. Wouldn’t be the first time we had to sleep in our lions either.

They had been missions in the past where the safest place for the paladins to sleep was in their lions. Add to the equation that the lions didn’t need sleep and would mostly likely keep an eye on Shiro, and it seemed like the best option.

“That could work,” Pidge said as she tapped her foot. “Frankly, that’s probably our best option.”

Lance clapped his hands. “Well then, in the meantime,” Lance said as he gave a sly grin and rotated his shoulders. “I believe it’s time I introduce myself to some of these lovely ladies around.”

Keith’s eyes widened. Uh oh, he thought. Should have known he notice the number of women here. “Uh, Lance, I don’t think-”

“Too late,” Hunk said as he pointed at Lance who walked off with Maya already in his sights. “He’s locked onto one.”

Pideg snickered as she leaned against Hunk. “Oh, this will be good.”

Keith wasn’t so certain, and stayed alert as Lance approached Maya as she was carrying a large crate.

“Hey, there,” Lance said with his best sly grin as he leaned against a wall. “If you’re as strong as you are beautiful, I’m amazed you’re not running this place.”

Maya paused and blinked in confusion. “Huh? What does my beauty have to do with anything?”

Lance’s smile faltered slightly, but still refused to give up. “What I mean is that you’re very strong and also pretty.”

Maya tilted her head. “Then why didn’t you just straight up say that?”

“Because you’re worth the extra flattery,” Lance said with a wink.

“What?” Maya said with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t get you.”

The Hunk and Keith groaned in unison as Pidge chuckled. “Sorry, but Lance is trying to flirt with you,” she explained.

Maya raised an eyebrow and looked Lance over. “In that case here,” she said and dropped the crate into Lance’s hands, in which he barely caught it. “If you got time to flirt, you got time to help me carry these.”

Lance grunted as he struggled to keep his grip. “This thing weighs a ton. What’s in here?”

“Bombs,” Maya said as she picked up another crate.

All the paladins jumped in alarm. “What?”

“They’re not activated,” Maya said coolly as she walked and paused in front of Lance. “That is, as long as you don’t drop them.”

Lance forced a smiled. “Uh, that’s a joke, right?”

Maya gave a smirk. “Sorry, but I’m not as ‘funny’ as I am beautiful,” she said as she walked off.

Lance gave a pout, but said no complaints as he followed her.

“That could have ended a lot worse,” Pidge commented, thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Thace said as he approached and caused Hunk to jump.

“Whoa, dude, you are good at sneaking up on people,” Hunk replied as he placed a hand over his heart.

Thace said nothing as he kept his eyes on Lance.

Keith tilted his head at him. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing important,” Thace replied, “it’s merely the Blue Paladin reminds me of a friend of mine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hunk asked. “Who exactly?

Thace shook his head. “Someone who I pray never meets the Blue Paladin in person.”

Hunk and Pidge looked to Keith for an explanation, but all he could do was shrug.

“Where is the Champion?” Thace asked.

Keith fidgeted at that. “He..went outside to get some air.”

He hoped Thace wouldn’t ask any further, but all the Galran did was give a concerned frown and nodded.

“Understood,” he said and looked over his tablet. “Ford has requested some assistance with the ship repair, so I’ll bring you three there.”

“Ford?” Hunk asked with a quizzed look.

“Old Galran guy with a cyber arm,” Keith explained and shrug. “Bit grumpy, but he’s alright.”

“I would suggest you not say grumpy in front of him,” Thace warned.

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “Because he find it an insult?”

“No, because he would consider ‘grumpy’ to be an understatement,” Thace said as he lead the way.

The paladins said nothing as they followed and tried not to laugh at Lance who was now carrying two crates at once.

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Inside the cockpit of the Black Lion, Shiro was gripping his head as he struggled to breath.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he repeated to himself.

Breathe, Shiro, Black encouraged. Don’t think of anything else, just breathe.

Shiro did as asked and continued to do so until he felt much more stable. Black growled gently and he felt her warm presence wrap around him like a blanket until his heart began to beat normally again.

Better?, Black purred in his head for comfort.

“Yeah,” Shiro said as he swallowed some air. “A lot.”

May I ask what happened?

Shiro leaned back and shut his eyes. “I saw a Galran carrying syringes and well,” he gripped his cybernetic arm. “Brought back some memories of when I lost my arm.”

That memory was still in bits in pieces. All he knows was that he was strapped to a table as he kicked and screamed, but black out when a druid poked his arm with a syringe. He woke up to find his human arm gone and the prosthetic in it’s place.

“Logically, I know the guy meant nothing by it,” Shiro said as he leaned against his hands, “but I couldn’t help but be afraid it was going to happen again.”

He shook his head. “Also, the dark caves and the number of Galra in there...reminds me a lot of the prison too.”

They are not the same Galra though, Black said.

“No,” Shiro replied, as he shook his head. “It’s easy to say that, but still can’t help. I feel like I need to keep my guard up.”

Black purred again to relax him. But you are going to help them?

Shiro nodded. “These guys are Galran, but they haven’t done anything to make me suspicious of them. It wouldn’t be right to ignore them.”

And that is why you are my paladin, Black encouraged. Still, I might suggest you spend the night here with me.

Shiro sighed. “I should stay where the others are to keep them safe.” It made him nervous to have his team out of arm’s reach where he couldn’t protect them.

They are safe, and you are only outside with me, Black replied. They will understand and are more than capable to watch each other, if such a danger did rise.

Shiro swallowed, but gave a nod. “You’re right, I know you are.”

Black continued to purr and Shiro leaned back in his chair as he reminded himself that in this moment, he was safe.

#voltron #keith kogane #thace #galra keith #vld #voltron legendary defender #fanfic

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