#its gremlin hours which means its time for LUSTING

[evilminji]

Oh? My? God?? Do you think the ring sends a distress signal to Oa/nearby (presumably) Elder And More Experienced Lanterns?

Because??? Look at it from the RINGS perspective! According to IT'S sensors? New baby Lantern. They're almost immediately dead. You find a new one. Also almost immediately dead. You find a NEW one.

Dead. New one? Dead. Next... one? Dead. Surely not THIS one! Not even an hour, Dead.

Either there is some sort of HORRIFYING unreported planetside War or hostile faction targeting what you sensors ASSURE you is a young adult/late adolescent of the species? Or somebody is HUNTING DOWN NEWLY APPOINTED LANTERNS!

The species Homo Sapien is SUPPOSED to average around 80 to 100 "year" units of time as a lifespan! What is HAPPENING!? This is above its limited ability to problem solve! It needs higher ups! Immediate reinforcements!

Dear Oa, it CANT lose another one! They keep DYING! D:>

All the while, Danny is like?? Great. Now the ring is mad it's in Baby Jail (on a chain). It keeps attacking anything that moves too fast around me, makes even VAGUELY threatening statements, or wears a Halloween mask. It just punched a hole in the wall.

(I'LL PROTECT YOU, NUMBER 53! This time, YOU won't di-! NOOOOOO! Not AGAAAAAAIN!)

(54! It's gonna be OKAY! Somehow, someway! I'll protect you until reinforcements arrive! We'll make it! By the Great Battery That Made Me! We'll make iiiit! *sobs in very confused Ring*)

And of course? You KNOW both Oa and the Lanterns near earth are all *horrified noises* like?? Lanterns from nearby Quarters are calling in going "if I fly at top speeds, I can be there in about a week. I had no idea it was so bad. Gods, I swear if I'd KNOWN! Please, you have to know I NEVER would have just abandoned you to-"

And they're up in the watch tower like? "SAME HERE. It's NOT. We don't know what's HAPPENING and we are freaking out! The single keeps glitching out! Says it both HERE and on Oa. Sometimes is BLOCKED COMPLETELY. Oh god... oh god another one. I'm gonna be sick-"

Cause like? For all the world the readings LOOK like "healthy teen -> dead teen" over and over. And that SCREAMS "we took vulnerable people no one would miss, a Ring, and are trying to figure out how to control/weaponize/make our own... leading to the death of the ring wearers."

Which historically? Has GOT to have happened before. Ended badly for the people who DID it. But corruption and lust for power are not new songs, and FAR older then Earth. So like?

Oa maybe a wee bit upset. There might be some generational trauma going on. Danny just wants to give the ring back but also DOESN'T, and is getting some training on the side from long dead Lanterns. The Ring ITSELF is being exposed to ectoplasm. And? Being what it IS? Of COURSE it has enough Willpower to gain ghostly sentience over time.

Not necessarily INTELLIGENCE. It is a supercomputer brained DUMBASS. The HIGHEST of Int and Wis in the negatives. It is a Ring. About as observant as your average brick. But he's TRYING okay? 78 means the WORLD to him! He'd do ANYTHING to pro- NOOO! 78!!! You cruel, cruel BASTARDS!

Must you rip from this Ring ALL THAT HE LOVES!?

He VOWS, 79! You will LIVE! Survive! THRIVE! See the skies of Oa and your fellow Lanterns there! If this humble Ring must BURN this place to the GROUND, so be it! He will not REST until- *continues to monolog in Ring*

Danny? Unaware of the shit storm coming. The nervous breakdown he is giving his newly sentient superweapon every time he transforms to fly to Nasty Burger. The crying and puking and rending of clothes going on all across Oa, as everyone works themselves into a FIT over the terrible, terrible, secret Earth Criminal Crimes Base Of Torturing Lantern Babies that doesn't exsist.

The IN MASS Lantern Brigade that's gonna show up in Earth Airspace, freaking out EVERYBODY.

But when he DOES? He will look at Sam. Look at Tucker. They will share The Gremlin Machinations Of Occasional Brilliance, or TGMOB. And? Ring, On. Self, "Captured".

The GIW is escorted OFF the planet.

His parents are proud (him! A Lantern! Their baby gets to follow his dream!) And FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FURIOUS (those bastard KIDNAPED THEIR SON TO DO WHAT!?). Now if only he could explain to his Ring he's ALWAYS half dead...

(193! Noooooooo! What cruel twist of FATE!? He was SO YOUNG!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles

Due to his unrelenting determination to keep his town safe, Danny is bestowed a green lantern ring. Which on one hand: Yay! He gets to explore space full time. But on the other hand: Ew! he's a space cop now.

He had to rectify this immediately or he would never hear the end of it from his ghost friends. Or his regular friends for that matter. Sayyy, it'd be a shame if he.... bent a few rules. Maybe even broke some of them every now and again. And it would surely be a tragedy if say.... random pranks started happening around Oa?

[dannineedsfriends]

Surprise y'all

I'm baaaaaaaccckkkkk and a massive thanks to my bby bia- Its not letting me tag u bby

HAPPY BORFDAY TO MEEEE!!

It wasn't Catherine's intention to be needy, or clingy at all; all she wanted was someone to talk to, who would hold her and kiss her softly until she fell asleep, and who wouldn't judge or leave her. Someone to slowly fall in love with her as she did them.

Maybe that was asking too much, and, much to her hopelessly romantic heart's dismay, there was absolutely nothing that she could do. She had spent long hours trying to desperately shoo the feeling away, to force it out of the embrace of her thoughts, to finally rid herself of the intensifying burden that was her lust for affection. 

 What was so wrong about wanting a girlfriend anyways? She wonders, allowing her brain wander from the pages of her notebook, which was resting on the table in front of her. Day by day, she had been growing restless with her friends' relentless teasing about 'poor lonely Catherine' or 'Cuddly Cathy who's all alone', both of which usually included tracing fake tears down their cheeks in the aftermath of the words. It was more annoying than anything, if she was completely honest, pushing her further and further to the edge of her patience and one day, she had been tested too far:

"Can you guys just fucking stop? So what if I want a girlfriend? Just leave me alone, already!" Parr had snaps in the middle of the library, where taking some notes and revising for a project due next week, and could no longer stand to listen to their constant and relentless teasing. Well, shit. She finally let out a breath, rubbing her eyebrow irritably as she earns a multitude of variations of: Well you're in a bad mood. Collectively, her peers pack up their things and leave, glancing back over at her as they walked away, piercing holes in Catherine's back.

After her so-called 'friends' left her alone, a girl from her English and History class slides into the seat next to her. 

Anne Boleyn had a grin playing on her lips, and a softish pink flush covered her cheeks that were raised in grin. She has her head tilted towards Parr, allowing her to catch a glimpse of the freckles that littered the skin just beneath her excited eyes. She looks to the notes being made and back to the girl, a dark lock of hair tumbling over her shoulder, curling slightly at the end. 

Anxiously, Parr shifted in her seat, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, even though she knew that it was futile; and it came flying back into her face. She decided it was best not to wrestle with her hair in front of the one and only Anne Boleyn. One of the nicest girls she had ever met, if she may add. She was friends with everyone and always seemed to be in the right places at the right times. It was truly miraculous how this girl could be anywhere in her vicinity, let alone manifesting herself in the chair just across from her.

Catherine never told anyone, but she had a crush on the Gremlin of school since the beginning of the year.

"So." Boleyn locked eyes with the writer, some undefined emotion plastered on her face. Adoration? Shyness? Hope? Confidence? It was hard to be exactly sure, but if she was right, it looked as if she were feeling a small part of each and every one of them. "You want a girlfriend, huh?"

"You weren't supposed to hear that." Parr's face heated up as she looked down to her lap, embarrassed of her former self raising her voice for something so minimal.

"I'm glad I heard it: You see, Cathy, I am in the same boat as yourself, if you get what I mean." Okay, that's it. After that nickname left Anne's lips, her heart began to beat it's way out of her chest. Before she could even think about responding, Anne continued:

"How about this? For a month, we'll date. Cuddle, kiss, get to know each other more. At the end of the month, if we fall for each other, we're suckers. We'll date, for real. If not, we just become friends - you're pretty cool. Do we have a deal?" Anne held out her hand, and Catherine carefully shook it. A little fun hurt noone.

"We have a deal." she affirms, lips pulling into a smile. Without missing a beat, Boleyn takes her hand, raising it to her lips with a sly grin, eyes blaring into her own. The girls lips were left in ghost on her hand, both metaphorically and literally: there was a red smudge where Anne had just kissed. 

"Then may I take you out for a date, girlfriend?"

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

][Mahogany and Rhys for ship headcanon meme][ 1 || 2 || 4 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 11 || 12 || 14 || 16 || 18 || 22 || 23 || 25 || 28 || 29

@blind-mutant

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Mahogany does! They bring Rhys a bunch of rats and flowers and flowers with rats buried between them. They took some creative liberties.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Rhys is since he's considerably smaller, weaker and Mahogany is so clear sighted about what they want in life. Mahogany can usually smell these moods from him and it immediately calls for some good Wendigo cuddles and aggressive rolling in the nest and cooing over how smart and how tricky Rhys is. Worst comes to worst??? Sex.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Mahogany since they had to be told to be aware of their personal space when they and Rhys first met. But when he let's them touch him freely? Holding his hand, hugging him, carrying him when they can and kissing Rhys is the best! They get huffy if they can't touch him at least once lt twice an hour.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

Oof uhhh,,,,if they were to find and know a more friendly other wendigo then probably them but I also imagine that if Rhys had someone he wanted to keep around and introduce to Mahogany then they would accept that person into their pack and be happy to take care of their new mate. Ngl if Rhys talks 'bout Blue then I imagine Mahogany silently considers her part of the pack when they smell how sad and in love Rhys was.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

Well, mostly just sneaking about to get meat but Mahogany likes wandering about places at night and crawling along walls and overall seeming creepy. They like looking into windows and staring at sleeping people which,,,,Rhys slowly nods at that and just gets them to the nearest park or forest where they demand to know how playgrounds work and Rhys, a full grown man I guess, has to slide down a small plastic child's slide so his 6'9 lover can nod and clap.

8. What do they like in bed?

Rhys loves it when they bite him and wrap their arms around him to tug him closer to hold him close as they lift him up. He likes overall reminders that they can crush him yet he's the only one who can put his fingers in their mouth and be completely safe.

Mahogany loves it when Rhys bites them too and they love it when Rhys is always a bit rough, like forcefully spreading their legs or tugging their hair when he's feeling so good. They like having their attention on him. Oh and eating him out.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Rhys tried to hunt with Mahogany but couldn't even catch a running squirrel before he slid off a steep edge and fell into a river. Mahogany fished him out and caught a bird in midair. He sulked in the bath for hours.

Mahogany isn't ever really embarrassed by stuff? But one time they went out in nothing but Rhys's shirt and wondered why he had suddenly raced after them, red faced and trying to apologise to a woman as he patted their bare butt back into the motel. He laughed tho when they asked if he was going to slap it more.

11. What do they hide from one another?

Rhys hides a surprisingly big amount, both small and large issues due to the fact that Mahogany acts on heart rather than thinking. He doesn't want them to know how someone had called him a freak earlier or that he wasn't a wendigo. I feel like Rhys often manipulates Mahogany for their safety and that even includes a time he told them that it was dangerous to go outside when maybe it wasn't really??

Mahogany often hides stuff that has happened to them or about the Wendigo history. Rhys hardly knows anything about their kind and he doesn't know about certain incidents like how someone tried to attack them earlier. They see no reason to worry their mate and they don't want Rhys to get upset like he always does if someone may be leaving gifts for Mahogany and always leaves the smell of a potential mate around.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Mahogany beings to get extra protective and officially starts calling Rhys their mate as well as trusting him entirely while Rhys officially starts to get worried at times for their hunts and becomes a lot more receptive to Magni bringing him gifts and their more possessive touches.

A bad side is Rhys becomes more stern on bath times and crying doesn't work anymore to make him soften up ;_;.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Mahogany panics and goes on a wide range stealing episode of getting as many clothes as they can to add to the nest. Curls up around Rhys to keep him cool or even wears more clothes if they're too cold for him. Whines and cries since they obviously think he's dying and if I'm honest, I wouldn't put it last Mahogany to get a human or a mutant to try and make him better. Spends most of the time crying and pressing their face against his to try and breath in his illness and take it away.

Mahogany is so confused when they get sick but it's in the summer and they can't keep anything down at all and start bloating. Probably tries to carry on as normal but Rhys has to be stern and make them lay in the nest. Like Pascal, an ice bath is needed and having to put their hair up while telling them fairy tales as they cry and sneeze repeatedly. Mahogany probably refuses to eat and only does when Rhys begs them and even then its slowly licking/drinking/slurping some watered down chicken soup he got for them.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

Oh god, Mahogany is in heaven. They get to eat people??? And not get yelled at??? Rhys undoubtedly has a breakdown or two but Mahogany is loving being able to play about with zombies and they're actually kinda chubby in this verse due to eating so much. I imagine it's a 50/50 of people wanting to be near or away from the pale mutant who is technically dating a form of zombie and honestly there's a point where Rhys probably has to have Mahogany wear a collar so others feel safe. Overall? They do pretty well! Especially with Mahogany's hunting.

But oh man scremaing has ensured at there being some sort of wendigo-zombie apocalypse. Mahogany suddenly being surrounded by forms of their own kind??? Angst.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Rhys apologises and it depends where they are because his apologies range from sex to getting them meat and a story. Most of the time he has to wait an hour or two because Mahogany wants to sulk and they have their hair spiked up around them to ensure he can't get near. And growling. They look like a sea bunny slug when they're mad so all he can do is sit near and wait for grumpy snuffling as they eat their meat and lick his fingers.

Mahogany hunts for Rhys and depending on how big the fight was is now big the animal is going to be. A small scuff? A rabbit. A big screamer? Mahogany drags a moose through the door and I mean. One of those fucking huge ones. They're bleeding but it's worth it to see Rhys's face when they drop it in front of Rhys and offer love making and bath times.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

Well, technically when they first had sex on that surprise thread we did but I'm also soft at the idea of them kissing in an apple orchid because Mahogany heard that Rhys was hungry so they just....broke in and took him apple picking aka lifting him up to trees to get apples while listening out for the owners and whoop Rhys is turning around to kiss them and oh their hips are wiggling and they're chuffing loud enough to alert people better run!

23. Where is their favourite place to be together?

Anywhere with nature! Rhys probably learns to love it so much when he associates it as the safest place where Mahogany likes cuddling and rolling in the snow and swimming with him in quarries during the summer. Also having sex up against trees is great for details I probably should not get too deep into here.

25. Why do they fight?

Mahogany is rather protective and gets huffy when they can't kill humans who hurt Rhys, despite whether he agrees with it or not most of the time. He also needs to worry about how little care they give when going out to hunting and the harm they do to themselves.

A bigger issue is probably over how insistent Mahogany gets over Rhys becoming a wendigo because they see how mutants get treated and their Rhys is a mutant, so what if he gets treated badly? They get anxious and huffy more over it, desperate for their mate to be safe for good.

28. Why do they get jealous?

Mahogany gets jealous of anyone who dares goes near their mate with lustful smells. But then Mahogany just has to make Rhys smell more like them and cover him in more bites so he cannot be mistaken as free mate for anyone at all. He belongs to someone and that someone is staring angrily through a window and yeah you better slowly back away and ask why there's a tall naked person pressing up against the glass and snarling and good Rhys better be running back quickly to not let an imprint of a vulva stain the glass. Rhys is too good and too wonderful and no one should take their mate but Mahogany.

Rhys would 100% freak out and I'm laughing at that freaking out if Mahogany starts getting meat left for them and smelling arousal everywhere. Huffy gremlin man when he hears a pleased chirp as Mahogany gazes at the honeycomb pieces that got left for them and honestly I'm too invested in the idea of a mysterious creature flirting with Mahogany and Rhys just "seriously??? I get an undead - last of the species probably - lover and yet someone better still comes along??" Shshnsns

It has just occured to me that maybe this question means what they may be jealous of each other oh boy. But yeah uh, Mahogany is always jealous of how good Rhys is with human stuff and how smart he is. He always has to clean up their messes and he much better at general life stuff than them while I think Rhya would be jealous at Mahogany capabilities and how unafraid they are to get what they want and their openness.

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Mahogany falls in love with how Rhys just...accepts them how he's the only one who doesn't seem to care as much about what they are. They adore how sweet he is and how easily Rhys goes along with whatever they do and how darling he is about the way they think.

Rhys falls more for just how dedicated Mahogany is for everything about him. Rhys wants food? They're going out to hunt. Rhys wants to feel warm, awkwardly dragging blankets over him. He also likes their refreshing views and how Mahogany sees him as perfect and wonderful to be unique. They hear the phase "best thing since sliced bread" and immediately say that Rhys is better.

[ridleytheknight]

Son of a Mafia Part 5

It's Pidge's turn! And thank you to a certain user ThtoneGal66 on Ao3! They heavily inspired this chapter and inspired an alternate ending and a whole new chapter that was never planned in the series with their through, beautifully supportive, and detailed comment that lifted my spirits and watered my crops. Thank you so much starling. You have no idea how much you've affected me with your kindness. Thank you so much.

This is for you. I hope you enjoy it as much as you have the rest :)

(Hope I answered some of you theories too :)

       The hierarchies of the mafia were honestly pretty complex. Lance had to admit it. His family was very liberal and open minded. Having six daughters of varying degrees of sexuality and one son who didn’t care if what he wore was girly or if who he kissed wasn’t a girl tended to do that to their family.

           Family came first over tradition and mindset.

           However, that didn’t mean their contacts were like that. True, they respected that the girls were the eldest and equal to them (Lance’s ex drove that home. They knew what those ‘innocent and dainty’ girls could do) Though in regards to orders and who they looked to first as the heir would be Lance. He was the first son.

Luckily, Lance was a great diplomat and an even better compromiser. While he may be the prince, his eldest sister was to be the queen. Lance would serve as her prince and enforcer. Her right hand. Equals in decisions -It also helped that as much as he loved Emilia, she was more of a shoot first question later, there was a reason he was the one who tortured and interrogated- His other sisters would be the heads of each of their own areas. Excusing Mia and Mya who wanted to run as co-leaders (the twins hardly separated, they even shared a boyfriend, polyamory was not an unknown concept to Lance nor his family)

           There would be some issues of the other families taking Lance’s side over hers should they ever disagree, he would smooth that over. Probably by scheduling family meetings before any conferences to sort out which side they may be on. Lance typically agreed with his family though, or could argue his points out with logic and persuade them to see his view.

           He hoped Mama and Papa were doing well, they were getting up in their years. Lance had no clue when he’d left. He was supposed to take over with Emilia and his sisters as soon as he graduated… but life was strange. He hoped they weren’t too worried, they knew he could care for himself. Even if that wouldn’t stop them from hunting down any lead and obstacle in their way. Including the Garrison if they tried to cover up their disappearance again.

           Though, the idea of his sisters tearing into Iverson for his disappearance was so amusing.

           Lance almost hoped he would be stupid enough to attempt just that.

           Shame he wouldn’t get to paint Iverson’s kneecaps. He’d been practicing.

           Lance’s dainty fingers brushed his left rib cage. They itched. They always itched and burned when he thought of it. The only distraction from it was the raging of blood lust, which was non existent as he headed out of the dining hall. But Lance pushed the burning feeling away, the ink in his skin was old. Any discomfort was past lived and all in his head.

           Right now, what he had to worry about was the baby sibling that hadn’t eaten all god damn day. Gremlin wrangling was not a fun sport and he needed his full attention for it. Not part of it. Lance sighed quietly, but a small smile still tilted on his face. He was the youngest, so he’d never had a little sibling to take care of and hassle. As frustrating as it could be, Lance wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

           His eyes didn’t take long to find the familiar almost ginger-light brown hair in the living hall. A blanket draped around Pidge’s shoulders and a laptop firmly within their grasp. Lance only rolled his eyes and jumped up onto the back of the couch, leaning forward to press his chin annoyingly on Pidge’s shoulder.

           “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Lance to computer gremlin.” Lance tapped Pidge on the cheek, getting only a grunt as acknowledgement. “Grumpy-pus. Grumpy cat. Grumpy Gremlin. Hey, hey, hey.” Pidge glared at Lance venomously.

           “What?” Lance brushed off the aggressive tone like water on his skin. Emilia’s murder tone was a lot scarier. Not to mention it wasn’t like Pidge was point a gun between his eyes like some others had. It was like when you tried to compare a dog to a wolf. Both could do harm and even kill. One had more motive and tendency to do it however.

           That being said, having been attacked by a dog as a form of interrogation. Both were preferably avoided.

           “Pidgey, it’s been a solid eight hours since you logged on~ I keep track of this you know. So do you know what time it is? Dinner time~ Dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner time! Get yo ass up and give your computer gremlin ways a break for a solid half and hour and I’ll relinquish my hold.” Lance grinned even as Pidge glared.

           “Screw off Lance! I’m busy and I don’t have time!” Lance only smiled. A little more forced.

           “Pidge, buddy, pal, amigo. Get your ass up. You need food.” If Pidge was surprised by the serious tone, they didn’t show it. “I know you haven’t eaten at all today and you skipped dinner yesterday. Hunk made food.” And Pidge blew up.

           “What do you know about me?!?! Nothing! You know nothing! God, why are you so god damn annoying! Leave me the hell alone Lance! I don’t have time for your games or your flirting or any of it! Shove! Off!” Pidge was left panting after their fit of yelling, lungs burnings and exhausted. But even they weren’t too tired to immediately feel regret welling up and the quick shift in the room. However Pidge didn’t even get to dwell to much on it before a dangerous look passed Lance’s face and shook the younger teen. They’d never though they’d see a look so… cold… not on a guy like Lance.

           “I don’t know you? Pidge. You’re real name is Katie Holt. You’re a technological genius with absolutely no social skills, which is fine. You have a serious obsessive about finding your family, which is fine. Your favorite color isn’t green. It’s orange because that’s the jumpsuit picture you last had of Matt before he disappeared. You love peanut butter. You also don’t need those glasses. You just like to look like your brother because it makes you feel close to him.”

Lance didn’t stop there however.

“I pay attention to you. I know who you are because I care about you and your health and I listen to every damn word you say because I love you and respect you and I want you to be healthy and happy! But god damn it if it doesn’t get frustrating sometimes! I pay attention, that’s how I fucking know you despite what you think. I always listen and pay attention because I care.” Lance paused.

“But you wouldn’t know that about me, would you?” And Lance was gone within the second, storming out like a raging tide retreating back into its home of rough and violent ocean currents. Leaving Pidge shell shocked and quiet as they processed what Lance had just spat out at them. Because it was all true. It was all so true. And it made them want to cry. But it also made their mind race. Because if there was one thing they could pick apart it was Lance. Pidge wasn’t the best with social situations, but they knew the paladins like the back of their hand, right?

Keith, the angry hot head with a mullet and family issues. Shiro, their leader, strong, with family issues of his own and probably PTSD. Hunk, their other tech friend and a master chef, who was a little too anxious for maybe his own good. Allura had a whole set of issues, but stayed strong like a rock. Coran was their actual rock, emotionally balancing them out. And then there was Lance.

Jokester (But he never poked fun in the face of real danger)

Flirty (Yet it never felt real)

Simple (But there obviously was an enigma hidden in the glimpse Pidge had seen)

Stable (Was he really?)

What did she really know about Lance? Pidge knew psychology and knew mental illnesses and how to gauge reactions. It was how they passed mental exams at the Garrison, how they lied through their teeth to get in. And Lance… he never fit in right.

One moment he’d be laughing in the center of the room. The next he’d be silent, diligently taking notes. One moment he’d be smiling with his friends. The next he’d be looking at a bully with pure distain. A cold and cruel shine in his eyes and a blankness that unnerved Pidge to remember it. The more unnerving thought was that Pidge never remembered seeing the bully around after Lance left the room with them. Forced jovial smiles and playful nudges.

There was also the haunting of death that all the paladins faced. Pidge knew they were affected. Shiro had been dealing with it since before Voltron. It wore on him deeply and Pidge had no doubt he’d need some serious therapy after the war was fought. Even Pidge could see his fresh hesitation to end a breathing life however. The imperceptible pause. Keith channeled his anger in the moment. Slicing through the enemies. Only in the quiet of night did she see him looking at his hands in slight horror. The tears she pretended not to see in his eyes. Hunk was a whole slew of anxiety. It was obvious the only reason he ever pulled a lethal shot was to protect Pidge, who rarely, if never was part of the offensive if it wasn’t Voltron.

Lance however… it was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch him fight. The fluidity that Lance worked between shooting and keeping people from getting close to him or any of the paladins. The silent set jaw that could only be seen out of his lion. Deep concentration. Lance was the first she’d seen to pull the trigger. She couldn’t look away. Watching how Lance pointed the gun at the Galran soldier with fluid and practiced ease and shot. Lance’s face blank with disinterest, eyes lit and dancing with emotions Pidge couldn’t relate or identify to. There was no anger. No sorrow. Only a sorting of acceptance, and another driving force with only the faintest touch of unseen grief. Grief that flickered out to acceptance as Hunk was saved by Lance’s fatal shot.

No one saw Lance take that shot. Pidge wasn’t even supposed to have seen it. She couldn’t look away from the camera however. And Pidge never said anything as she watched time after time. Never mentioned the subtle way Lance always covered his face from sight if he made a fatal blow in front of other eyes. She’d seen that blank look of near satisfaction and accepting pride only one more time after that. In the castle after Allura had been safely recovered from the Galran invasion of the castle. The deadness of a still ocean in Lance’s eyes as Pidge had silently watched his form slink away. Soaked with blood and limping with Coran. Allura had gathered most of Pidge’s attention then, and after that any thoughts of how that much blood got on Lance faded to the normal daily grind of enhancing the castle and finding Matt.

Pidge’s lanky fingers moved quietly and silently without thought. Pushing their other projects gently away. Before they pulled up the surveillance videos of the day Allura was kidnapped slowly. The castle automatically flagged and saved any cameras with movement as a way to conserve memory. Pidge held their breath. Uncertainty weighing with curiosity for the first time in a long time. But, it always won. And they clicked the video feed.

Immediately the video started. The back of Lance’s head already visible, as well as a Galran soldier. Pidge watch in worry as Lance didn’t even break stride. Bayard held tightly in his grasp as he moved. He looked so… different. His shoulders were back and each leg stride held purpose as his chin held up with poise. Lance looked like… royalty. Even as he easily placed the rifle to the back of the Galran’s head and leaned into his ear. Whispering words to quiet for the audio feed before shoving the Galra into the closest room.

           That video led to the whole semi horrifying, semi-fascinating scene of watching Lance torture the guard for information. A wide and almost unnatural grin as Lance nearly, gleefully, brought the Galran to the brink of death while constantly questioning him. Double checking answers and mocking him. Taking sadistic satisfaction in the blood, pain, and screams. The way Lance moved was constant. Almost like dancing.

           Dancing to the sound of screams.

           Like music.

           Pidge felt enraptured as they watched him walk out of the room. The blank concentration and the sickening light in his eyes dimming to set focus as he gunned down the Galra infested halls like they were nothing. Taking the stray bullet or knife in stride. It was like Lance was possessed. Angry with a calculated and calm composure. As if he didn’t feel the pain of wounds. Or the burning of his hands as his bayard began to smoke. Watches as he takes down the Galran soldier guarding Allura with his bare and burned hands and takes her to safety before even considering limping his own way for help.

           Everything he did was for them.

           And Pidge had just spat that in his face.

           More importantly.

           LANCE WAS A FUCKING BADASS!!!

           HE WAS LIKE THE GOD FATHER OR SOME SHIT! God, why didn’t he use that to pick up chicks cause that was so god damn cool!!! Lance had just gunned down an entire hallway of guards like they were toy soldiers in some five year old’s game of battle frontier! Pidge abandoned their laptop immediately and stormed through the hallways. Poking their head through every door they could until they finally found Lance in the lion’s hangar. A knife twisting in the air. Falling and ascending in a deadly and precise arc. Lance’s fingertips barely brushing the knife to cause its renewed ascension every time. It was so deceptively and delicately powerful. Masterfully controlled with effort and ease that only came with practice and knowledge.

           Pidge pointed a finger accusingly at Lance and screeched. “YOU’RE THE FUCKING GODFATHER AND YOU EXPECTED TO HIDE THAT SHIT FROM ME??? WHAT THE FUCK LANCE?! THIS IS MY ONE TIME TO SAY I KNOW A MEMBER OF THE FUCKNG MAFIA AND YOU TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME???” Lance’s body jolted up in the surprise and Pidge almost regretted surprising Lance and worried about the knife until Lance was able to do damage control. Sending it clattering to the floor clumsily. As if he had no way of controlling it.

           Too bad Pidge had seen him using that knife

           Lance coughed into his fist, “Well. No, not really. I’m not going to be saying to leave a firearm and take a pastry anytime soon. Nor am I the head of the family. I’m just the son of my father. Who happens to be the head of the family… so I’m not the godfather yet. I won’t even be a capo for a while…” Pidge threw their hands up exasperatedly.

           “C’mon! You have to make this up to me. Tell me some cool shit!” Lance chuckled as Pidge practically threw themselves onto Lance to make him stay put. Glaring at him like a pouty child who wanted a story. It reminded him so much of his little cousins and his little niece and nephews that his resolve to keep those two sides of him completely separate crumbled.

           “There really isn’t many clue things to be honest. It’s a lot of work. A lot of negotiation. A lot of morally ambiguous decisions.” Lance chuckled ominously. “I am the youngest in my family, but they call me the dark prince of the McClain family for a reason I guess.” Pidge damn near had sparkles in their eyes.

           “I saw you torture that Galran. Have you done that before or was that improv?” Lance gave Pidge a weird look and a bemused smile.

           “Pidgey. I’m the fucking Dark. Prince. Please rethink your sentence computer gremlin. Yeah, I’ve… done that before. In the moment it’s only a rush. Like the most exhilarating adrenaline rush. All you feel is invincible. Powerful. Manipulative. Anything. You feel like what you want is in the palm of your hand. After its done and the high has worn down and you’re relaxing, you look back and you don’t know who that person in your skin was. I had never been guilty. I’ve accepted what I’ve done. I don’t regret it beyond mourning their loss and remembering I had no right in pulling their strings. But you don’t think like that in the act. You only thing after it. When that person is gone. Until you do it enough times and slowly you and that person aren’t strangers. You’re two people. One person really. Always. And if you’re doing it right… or at least… with some ethics. You’re doing it for a reason. I do it for my family, my loved ones, and right now… the rare occasion I lose control.” Lance looked straight to the young teen kneeling on his out stretched legs. Eyes wide and fastened on him with a child-like wonder. Lance smiled, looking Pidge straight in the eyes. Letting the foggy and hard eyes that always accompanied those memories turn warm and soft, just for them.

           “Now I do it for you.”

           Things only rolled on further after that. Pidge seeing the soft kink in his armor and jabbing at it demandingly for more stories. By the end of night having migrated to lay on Lance’s lap. Lance’s delicate and callused fingers carding through Pidge’s hair amazedly. Reverently. That something so young. So pure still. Was so relaxed with him. He was almost afraid he’d get blood in their hair, even when it was long since gone from his physical skin. Lance felt a demanding nudge in his mind. Looking up just in time to hear Blue snort.

           She said ‘I told you so.’

           Lance rolled his eyes, leaning against his beautiful girl’s paws. Looking out past Pidge to the vast space within his sight. Watching over his little sibling like a guardian watching diligently to eliminate any threat or harm to their charge. Space was scary. But he could be scarier. Sitting on his throne with poise and precision.

           He’d die for his family. He’d kill for his family. He’d live for his family.

           Lance looked down to Pidge’s sleeping face. Their glasses were scooting down their face and they’re long eyelashes were fluttered onto their cheeks as shallow breaths fell in and out of their mouth. Sleeping peacefully, dreamlessly, burdenlessly. Lance would keep them like that. Protect them from the world. He’d bring back their family and continue to shield them. Even if they rejected him after they didn’t need him anymore. With their own family again. No need for a killer of a puesdo-sibiling. And Lance’s lips did a rare thing when the monster prowled in place of him in the throne room.

           He smiled.