#lance: huh the kid kind of reminds me of you...its like you and shiro!!!

[officialredlion]

Okay so I was having a sweet thought today in terms of post voltron after war stuff.

So, okay, Keith and Lance continue BoM humanitarian stuff. On a break during the fall they stop by the Garrison where Shiro, the headmaster 😌, is hosting some kind of 5 year anniversary for the day the universe defeated Honerva and thinks meeting the paladins might be a really exciting thing for the students. Allura and Lotor even make it as well! Wow!

Keith, still not super comfortable with all the celebrity being a savior of the universe brings, kind of tails behind Lance during the lunch period and lets him answer most of the questions for them. It's a lot of sensory overload and scary in a way that bringing back the universe from the edge of destruction isn't.

He's mumbling through answers and quickly signing autographs when he sees a young teenage boy, who desperately needs a haircut, a faint bruise underneath his eye, sitting in the corner alone with a scowl on his face, messing with his food but not eating it. A scholarship kid, he's told. Ward of the state who doesnt have exceptional grades but is here after a scout noticed his talent (James??? Maybe?) but can't keep his act together.

Next think he knows, Keith is sitting across from this kid, being told to fuck off and that he's not interested in talking. Keith responds with that's okay, I don't feel like it either, also kind of tired of listening anyway.

By the end of the day, Keith has a pen pal (begrudgingly at first on the teen's end) he gets "letters" (emails?) from on occasion so he can check in and give guidance where he can. The kid let's him know that everyone wanted to sit with him the next day, but he wasn't ready for that kind of attention. He's even working on making a friend! A shy girl who says she'll help with out with calculus and physics if he helps her with her piloting. And when Keith visits a few times a year, they both train together in combat and flying, sometimes with the caveat of please don't tell shiro I showed you this but check this out *steals hoverbike*

Of course Shiro knows, it's his school....and his bike (again Keith really?)

The teen doesn't have a family to be with during the holidays. Keith didn't either, but now he has Lance and his huge family who are absolutely esctatic to hear that Keith wants to invite someone. There's too many people, too much extended family and friends to sit in one area. It's a little overwhelming, but Lances already has a plan and introduces the kid to his cousin, who just started in August as a freshman in the cohort below his. The kid thinks, hey they're not so bad...and only a month later for winter break does the cousin invite the kid back for holiday dinner before Keith even had the chance.

He reads over his next few updates that the kid now has two friends! His grades are up. He's not sitting alone. He's using the techniques Keith taught him in class and he's absolutely crushing the rankings.

Of course Shiro recognizes them immediately, he taught them to Keith.

By the time he's graduating, the lonely kid goes from no family to having an entire voltron family complete with amazing badass older brother he can tell everything to, because finally someone understands him and he finally knows what it means to be wanted.

And on Keith's end, maybe he starts to finally understand just what in the world (universe, even) THE Takashi Shirogane ever saw in him. And that maybe he means as much to his chosen older brother as his chosen little brother does to him.

And of course during this entire thing Shiro is watching from the background like 🥺🥺🥺 I love full circle moments

[phantoms-lair]

Alternate Selves Snippet - Names

“Pidge, are you in here?”

“Over here,” Pidge waved down the younger Shirogane. “Almost done calibrating Lance’s chair.”

“Yo,” Lance waved at him, flipping his tail from where he was sitting on a table. “How’s the search for a name going.”

“That’s kind of why I’m here,” he answered sheepishly. “I came up with a few ideas, but nothing really seems right.” At least he was able to keep his surname, Shiro insisting he was family. So all he needed was a given name. But that was trickier than he had thought. “You’ve had to come up with a name before, and made something so good you feel okay using it in place of your original name. Any tips?”

“Well let me see what you have.” Pidge took the list and read over it with a raised eyebrow. “Jirou, Keiji, Kenji, Seiji, Yuji, *Kuron*?”

“Sort of technically my name.” Or at least the name of the project that created him.

“Like the Ji sound, huh,” Lance commented.

“Allow me to translate,” Pidge said dryly. “Second son, respectful second son, healthy second son, refined second son, brave second son, literally clone.”

“Yeah, okay. I see your problem. The names you pick suck.” Lance said sagely,

“I hate to agree with Lance, but he’s right. All of these names focus on you being the second Shiro, which is basically your least favorite thing about yourself.” PIdge pointed out.

“I know that, but I want my name to represent me, and that’s literally the only thing about me that is me and not just copied from Shiro. The only thing unique to me is being a copy.” He said, trying to keep his frustration out of his voice.

“Well getting reminded of that whenever someone talks to you isn’t going to be good for you in the long run.” Lance pointed out.

“You know, no one names their kid ‘Fetus’.” Pidge mused.

“No, and I am very thankful for that.” Lance grimaced. “And if that’s your suggestion, than may I suggest taking this to Hunk. He named most of the hamsters.”

“No, I mean for most kids their names are chosen before they’re born. Their names aren’t what they are in that moment, it’s what they’re going to be.” She erased the list and handed the list back to him. “Pidge was a nickname Matt called me. I made it my name because of its connection to my missing brother and my determination to find him. Don’t pick a name based on what you are now. Pick on on who you want to be.”

He looked at the list. “Who I want to be, huh?”

~

“Hiroaki.”

“Excuse me?” Shiro looked up.

“I thought about what I want to do and where I want to go from here. I want to be someone who protects people those who need it. I want to drive the darkness away. So that’s my name. Shirogane Hiroaki.”

Hiroaki. Widespread brightness. “Welcome home Hiro.”

Hiroaki smiled. “Glad to be home.

[rainforestgeek]

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 9 “Tell Me it’s Not for Nothing”

Part 8

AO3 link

--

The next morning Keith woke up from the deepest sleep he’d had in years. Light breath purred against his neck. Matt’s arm draped over his side and they lay pressed together back-to-chest. He was loathe to leave the warm bed, or disturb Matt, but Keith had things to do. He’d indulged in this comfort long enough.

He carefully extricated himself from the blankets, slipping out of Matt’s hold and into the cool ship air. He gathered his space suit and armor from the floor and started getting dressed.

Keith was strapping his blade to his belt when Matt stirred. He sat up and stretched. Keith indulgently took in his lithe, muscular torso and toned shoulders. It felt so good to be explicitly allowed to look. Especially with the memory of all that smooth skin under his hands. Matt grinned sleepily. “Hey.”

“Morning. You should get ready. It’s probably gonna be a long day.”

“So romantic.”

Keith’s face burned. He mentally scrambled for a response.

“Sorry, I’m just kidding.” Matt got up and gave Keith’s temple a gentle kiss before pulling on his pants.

Keith relaxed, relieved. Words returned to him. “I’m going to the dining hall. You should stay and eat breakfast here. I know Pidge’ll be happy to see you, too.” He made to leave.

“Wait, Keith.”

He stopped and turned back.

“Um.” Seeing Matthew Holt look uncertain was so bizarre. He kept looking from the floor to the ceiling and back to the floor.

Keith waited.

“Last night, I ran into Lance in the hallway. Is…should…you’ve known him for a while now. What kind of guy is he?”

Uh. Out of left fucking field. But then again, most questions came across to Keith that way. “In summary, he’s a dependable idiot.”

“What do you mean by idiot?”

“He pretends to be an asshole. It’s distracting when he flirts with girls on missions.”

“Has he ever flirted with Pidge?”

He thought for a second. “I don’t think so. Matt, if you’re worried about Lance playing Pidge or something, don’t. They’re close. He wouldn’t do that.” He hesitated, then, trying to be comforting, took Matt’s hand and squeezed it.

Matt’s eyes focused on him. He leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, lingering a moment. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith couldn’t understand why a simple kiss like that flustered him so much when they’d had sex just last night. He swallowed. “See you at breakfast.”

Out in the hallway he saw Lance in his street clothes standing in front of Pidge’s room. He didn’t do anything, just stared at the door with his hands deep in his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

Lance jumped. “Umnothingjust – ”

“Okay, wrong question. Why are you standing outside Pidge’s room instead of knocking like a normal person?”

“Are you really telling me what normal people do?” He glared at Keith, but there was no real heat in his voice. He started walking in the direction of the dining hall. “Whatever. I just…we’re dealing with so much stuff today and I don’t know if she’s still asleep and she’d rip my face off if I woke her up, so excuse me for being a tiny bit afraid of knocking.”

Keith fell into step with him. “Don’t worry about it. Coran will get Pidge out of bed.”

“Why are we still talking about Pidge?”

“Why are you talking about Pidge?”

“Because you are!”

“I’m not the one waiting outside her bedroom first thing in the morning.”

“You – !” All the blood rushed to Lance’s face and he huffed like an agitated dragon. Keith had almost forgotten how fun it was riling him up. And familiar. He couldn’t resist poking further.

“Did you need to tell her something in private? Something secret?”

“I CANNOT believe I actually missed you, you jerk!” Lance stormed off ahead.

You did? Keith thought.

That was weird hearing so directly from Lance. He knew Pidge and Hunk did, and obviously Shiro –

His fists clenched. Shiro wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for a long time. Keith physically restrained himself from punching something.

He never did see Pidge that morning. She wasn’t at breakfast, and she wasn’t at the tactical meeting with Emperor Lotor either. Coran and Lotor and the other paladins were on the bridge when he followed Matt inside, star maps projected through the air, but no sign of their smartest teammate. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Where’s Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“Sequestered in my rooms with the mice,” Allura said. “She is running analyses on data she gathered from the clone. She came to tell me earlier and I decided not to interrupt her progress.”

“Speaking of which. How the hell did a galra spy get on board the Castle?” Lance demanded.

Keith avoided eye contact when he replied. “I don’t get it. The Black Lion took me to him. She recognized him as Shiro.”

“Yeah. Can’t the Lions, like, see inside our souls?” Hunk asked. “Unless you can make an exact copy of somebody’s brain it doesn’t make sense. Wait, is that possible?”

“It’s irrelevant,” Allura said. “The Lions bond with our quintessence. The very fundamental energies of our lives.”

“So how do you copy quintessence?”

“You cannot. Not even the Druids are capable of such magic.” Lotor looked thoughtful. “Shiro spent time as a prisoner of the empire, yes? Fighting for entertainment?”

“What’s your point?” Matt said.

“He has a cyborg prosthetic arm, work of the Druids no doubt. Which means they must possess the original arm. It's probable they extracted its quintessence and grew it in the clone.”

Lance made a disgusted noise. “How do you do that with a dead arm?!”

“Keeping the tissue alive is a simple matter for Haggar, Red Paladin.”

“It is revolting. But more than possible,” Allura agreed.

“But that’s still just speculation,” Matt said. “We know there’s been a spy inside Voltron. It doesn’t matter how if we don’t know why. What specifically does she want out of all this? Why hasn’t she used more insider information?”

“It’d be invaluable to know, Matt. But on that we also have nothing but speculation. What do you think, Lotor?” Allura asked.

He frowned. “I agree that the witch’s plan is of the utmost importance; however, I would remind you, Princess: it must not compromise our efforts to stabilize the rest of the galra,” Lotor said.

Lance half-raised his hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t that plan in danger as long as we don’t know what Haggar is up to?”

“So we’ll multitask.” Allura sighed. “It is risky, I know. But concentrating our efforts solely on the rogue galra or the Druids would allow the other threat to grow unchecked. We must do our best to tackle both problems at once. I would still like your assistance with the rogues and quintessence, Hunk.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been studying Honerva’s science log and I’ve got some ideas.”

“In the meantime,” said Lance, “I’m gonna question Ezor. See what she has to say for herself.”

Keith snorted. Something about Lance leading an interrogation struck him as funny. “What are you going to do – annoy her into talking?”

“Ha, ha, laugh it up Mullet, you’re coming down there with me.”

“Of course I am! She could tell us where Shiro is.” Keith realized as the echo died around him that he'd shouted.

Lance gripped his shoulder. “We’ll get answers this time, Keith. I promise.”

Matt pitched in,“Pidge told me last night she’s making something that can help with that.”

Lance let go and took a step away from them. He said, “That sounds scary. Should I be scared?”

Matt fixed him with a look. One that Keith wasn’t familiar with. “Should you?”

Swallowing visibly, Lance replied, “Of Pidge or anything she makes? As a rule, terrified.”

Matt seemed to like that answer. Keith felt some kind of subtext between the two that definitely went over his head.

--

Lance wondered how many half galra they were going to have behind this glass. They were at two, now. One more and it’s a pattern.

Matt followed them down, making Lance feel tense.  His face was as closed-off as it had been last night, except this time without the joking mask. Now his expression was straight-up stone. But hopefully having his new boyfriend around would help Keith keep from going off like an IED.

Keith on the other hand had his arms crossed. Pretty standard Keith stuff.

Ezor was laying on the floor with her feet propped against the wall. Her soles smushed against the glass, smearing traces of dirt on it.

Keith hit the big intercom button. “Time to talk.”

The galra swung her feet down and sat up to look at them. “Ooooh, the underlings grace me with their presence. Where’s Mr. Bitch Slap and Miss Queen of the Universe?”

Lance stepped closer to the glass and tried to look confident. “Sorry. You won’t be seeing the princess any time soon, let alone get your hands on her.”

Ezor cocked her head. “Whelp, sucks for me, because that sort of impedes me doing my job.”

“Okay. You’re fired.”

“Lucky me.”

“Look, we don’t care about you. We want to know where Haggar is.”

“What’s in it for me?” She asked lazily, leaning back on her hands.

“We don’t kill you,” Keith growled.

Ezor shrugged. “Eh. That sounds about right. Haggar’s probably with Sendak, pulling his little puppet strings.”

“That would mean she’s dead. Which we know isn’t true.” Matt sounded just the tiniest bit proud despite performing his best imitation of an ice statue.

“Huh. Then I don’t know.”

“Hey Lance, I’m smelling a giant pile of horse shit,” Matt said, turning to face him.

Lance bit back a snicker. “It’s really stinking up the place. Think we should eject it?”

“Can’t smell it if it’s in space.”

“Rude.” Ezor protested.

“Then make yourself useful, and quick.”

She huffed. “I don’t have a tracker on the woman, I don’t know where she is.”

“But you’re working for her. You and the other generals,” Lance said.

“Look, we’re just trying to survive by now, okay? Lotor went bozo – years of dedicated service all to become universal outcasts. Most people would do anything to avoid execution and I’m no exception. But I must say, this is the nicest cell I’ve been in so far.”

“You’re a mercenary.”

“And dodging the question.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “If you want to stay alive, then tell us what you know about Haggar’s plan. What’s she after?”

“Oh that’s easy: take down Voltron. You’re really slow around here.”

“From the inside. Nice try, but no cigar," Lance snarked.

Keith whispered. “I don’t think she smokes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” he whispered back.

“Oh good job! You found the little project she planted.” Ezor’s tone was more condescending than all Lance’s most hateful middle school teachers combined. “Guess you do have two neurons to rub together if you weeded out the spy.”

“What has she done with Shiro?” Keith demanded.

“The original? That one’s probably dead.”

The words hit Lance like falling hail. He waited for Keith to blow up at her. When nothing happened, he glanced to his left to see Matt squeezing Keith from behind in a tight hug. Keith’s eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out.

Matt looked at the general evenly. “You’re lying. You were on the ground, alone. You had to have set up a rendezvous point.”

Lance swallowed back the ice in his throat. “Yeah! Where were you gonna go after killing Allura?”

All three of them jumped at what happened next: Ezor fell onto the floor and started cackling. She laughed so loud she clearly couldn’t breathe. Her red face turned magenta.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Keith said.

“She – does not – want the pri – princess dead, you primitive worms. My – ” she took a moment to regain her composure. “My orders were to kidnap the princess.”

“Then where was the rendezvous point?!”

She smirked. “Right at the border of the Patrulian Zone. You can chase her there if you want, but if you go there you’ll definitely die.”

Patrulian Zone…Patrulian Zone…Quiznak, why did that sound so familiar?

Matt frowned. “She’s right. No one uses any route through that section of space anymore. Too many ships have gone missing.”

It suddenly hit Lance. If an actual light bulb had manifested itself above his head just to go off at that moment, he’d totally believe it. “HOLY CROW!”

He sprinted towards the elevator and shouted over his shoulder, “Keep questioning, I’ve got to tell Allura!” He ran to the bridge, which was empty, then searched the Castle at top speed until he arrived at the princess’s bed chambers. He swallowed back the awkwardness about approaching her in her private space. He knocked on the doors.

“Allura? It’s Lance, I’ve got important news!”

Her voice came muffled from inside. “Come in, Lance.”

He opened the door and skidded inside. “We were just interrogating Ezor and she – oh!” He froze. “Um, h-hey Pidge!”

Pidge sat cross-legged on the giant bed with Allura. She was wearing her shorts and windbreaker, and her feet were bare. Her glasses reflected the glow coming from her laptop, which was connected to some weird circular gizmo. All the mice had perched on her head and shoulders to weave tiny braids in her hair. Flames licked up Lance’s face and he quickly looked away to avoid staring. Allura cocked one eyebrow at him from her perch on the bed, and Hunk (whom at first he hadn’t noticed sprawled out on the floor with his ancient holographic science notebook) pointedly looked between Lance and Pidge, only fueling his embarrassment.

“You’re already interrogating her?” Pidge sounded oddly disappointed.

“…Yes?” he replied uncertainly.

She tapped at the gadget plugged into her computer. “Never mind. You were saying?”

“Right, uh. Ezor told us she was trying to kidnap you, Allura, not kill you. We just assumed it was an assassination. Haggar’s orders were to bring you to her at the entrance to Oriande.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Pidge turned to Allura. “Do you think she could get in?”

The princess shrugged, brows furrowed. “Possibly. She’s technically an Altean with magical gifts. But what she could do with me I don’t know.”

“Maybe she was gonna cut off your arm and seduce you to the dark side.” The stupid joke left his mouth before Lance could stop it. He clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed, and heard an agonized groan from Hunk and a cute giggle-snort from Pidge. She bit her fist, plainly trying to hold in her laughter. Lance smiled behind his fingers

“Seduce? I hardly think so!” Allura’s scandalized yelp drew back his attention.

“You see what happens when you say stuff like that?” Hunk said. Lance shot him a glare.

Pidge took several deep breaths, to calm down. It obviously only worked like three-quarters of the way. “It’s a reference to a classic Americ – Earth movie. He means maybe Haggar wants to convert you to her cause, so you can be evil Altean alchemists together.”

Allura wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps. I suppose she only knew where to go because of the clone.” Lance nodded. “Haggar’s lust for power is dangerous. If she gains such mastery of quintessence then she could destroy the economic balance we’re trying to achieve and wreak disaster upon every living thing in the universe.”

Hunk’s eyes had gone so comically wide Lance was amazed they didn’t fall out of his skull. “Are you KIDDING ME? Zarkon is dead and now we have to deal with THIS? You guys do not sound scared enough! How do we stop her? PIDGE?”

“Hunk, lower your voice,” Allura admonished, “you’re scaring the mice.”

Pidge typed away at her computer. “I’ve been analyzing the clone’s galra arm. If we get close enough I might be able to track down Haggar, and since we have a good guess where she’s been…”

“…We could get in range and bring the fight to her. Pidge, you are brilliant!”

Pidge smirked at Allura. “I know.”

Lance’s stomach fluttered – then growled. The conversation was veering where his usefulness vanished anyway, so he made to leave the geniuses to do their thing. Hunk was already talking magical defenses with Allura. “I’m gonna go eat something and get back down to the cell.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” Pidge gathered her stuff and jumped clumsily off the bed. She looked and sounded a lot more manic than usual. “You wanna see something stupid?”

“If you hold up a mirror in front of my face, you’re dead to me.”

“Ugh. Opportunity missed. Come on, I just have to get something.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. He caught sight of Hunk and Allura looking meaningfully at each other, Allura outright giggling.

Pidge led him through the corridors and to the Green Lion’s hangar. Her work station was a mess. When she let go of his wrist, his skin tingled where she’d touched him.

“How do you find anything on here?” Lance asked, poking at something that looked suspiciously like a mechanical spider.

She batted his hand away. “It helps when nobody moves my stuff.” She handed him an alien bullhorn. Then she covered the opening with some kind of circular fan-looking thing - the one she'd had hooked up to her laptop earlier. It didn’t really look like a fan, but it was the closest comparison Lance could come up with. Pidge pressed the center button, making the outer ring (which she spun a few times like a dial) light up blue. “Okay, say something to me.”

“Is this the thing I heard you were making for interrogating reasons?”

“Lance, just use it like a normal bullhorn and say something.”

He was so torn between annoyance and affection. He was trying so very hard to be annoyed at her – she hauled him around the castle, she kept him up half the night (fine, the Pidge in his head kept him up half the night – technicalities). But despite the obvious bags under her bloodshot eyes, Pidge’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree and she was bouncing in excitement.

So Lance tested out her little invention: “I thought this was gonna be something stupid.” But the words came out in the high pitched, pebbly monotone of an old robot. His eyes widened. He started making little jerky robot movements. “Holy crow Pidge, I’ll never doubt you again.”

She giggled, her face flushing a bit. Probably sleep deprivation. “The dial on the outside changes the voice filters.”

He examined the gadget. “What’s ‘PW’?”

“Patrick Warburton.” Lance looked at her blankly. “The actor? 20, 21st century? One of the most iconic voices in history!”

Lance chuckled. “Since when were you a movie nerd?”

“My mom is. They made some weird-ass cartoons back then. Just try it, Lance.”

He spun the dial to “PW” and said the first thing that came to mind. “Did you sleep at all last night? Whooooaaaa-ho-ho-hooooaa. This is the smoothest, sexiest voice in the history of everything.” He playfully struck a pose. “Hey, girl. Cassanova’s here.”

Pidge laughed so hard she doubled over, hands on her knees, and visibly gasped for breath. Her cheeks turned a striking shade of pink. Lance’s heart break-danced proudly in his chest and he couldn’t have stopped his own grin if he’d tried.

“That was ridiculous.” Pidge’s laughter died out when she tried - and failed - to bite back a yawn. “The other settings are silly but I had to include that one.”

He put down the bullhorn on her warzone of a work table. “It is amazing. Total show-stopper. Is it useful? Or was this, like, stress-relief?”

Pidge took back the gizmo and started fiddling with it. She turned back to her work table, her back facing Lance. “We can attach it to any speaker in the Castle. Any of them. I figured we could hook it up to the containment cell and questioning Ezor will be so much funnier now.”

Lance giggled just thinking about it. “We’re not done interrogating her, you know. We can still use it.”

She turned her head, smiled at him, and continued, “I just figured, you know. Anything to lighten the mood around here. Make things easier for everybody. Yesterday sucked.”

Madre de Dios. That was unexpectedly sweet. In a rough, awkward, Pidge-kind-of way. He wondered how Pidge was dealing with the whole clone Shiro thing. Like, emotionally. She did look a little crazy today.

He frowned when she let loose another huge yawn. “Seriously, how much have you slept?”

She tried to glare at him through her drooping eyes. Valiant try, but dice. He gently tugged her out of the hangar and in the direction of the dining hall. “Enough. I just need some caffeine.”

“Not the same thing as beauty sleep, Pidge.”

“Who cares if I’m beautiful?”

Definitely ignoring that question. “Fine. Big-brain sleep, then.”

“Coffee.”

He rolled his eyes and they walked in silence.

Completely out of the blue, Pidge muttered, “…reminds me of peanut butter.”

“Huh?”

“Patrick Warburton’s voice. It tastes like peanut butter.”

“You can taste sound?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s called synesthesia. My senses get a little crossed so my brain makes some weird and powerful associations. Green’s purring is like sparkling lemonade. Hunk’s voice is like cinnamon rolls.” Her eyes stared out into nothing, big and unfocused, like she only could pay attention to what she was saying.

Lance hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to know. “What does my voice taste like?” He immediately cringed. Nice going, McClain. She’s gonna think you’re so –

“Um, apples and cream cheese.” Her answer came quickly.

Lance’s thoughts skidded to a stop and he stared at her.

“What? Is it weird?”

“…That’s extremely specific, Pidge.”

She shrugged. She looked at him from the corner of her eye with a mischievous spark. “Be glad yours is positive, like Hunk’s. But Lotor's is black licorice.”

Lance barked out a surprised laugh. “Have I ever told you I love your brain?”

P A N I C.

Pull the fire alarm! Make a run for it! Stop, drop, and roll! Find the emergency exits and pray you don’t die!

Pidge stopped in her tracks and looked at him for a long moment. The sirens blaring in his head steadily quieted. Amber eyes anchored him to the spot, and he couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink, they were so entrancing. He noticed there were faint stripes of chocolatey brown around the edges of her irises. She looked at him like he was encrypted computer code and she needed to solve him.

Which was weird, honestly. Lance sure as hell isn’t encrypted. His papi always called him an open book.

Finally Pidge quirked one side of her mouth up in a soft smirk. Lance didn’t even know a smirk could be soft. “You could stand to say it more frequently.”

Flames licked up Lance’s cheeks. Yeah, he couldn’t handle any more of this. He slung an arm around her and steered her into the kitchen, keeping her propped up against his side. Lance heated up some of that weird fruit coffee Hunk made for Pidge while she hoisted herself onto the counter. When he handed her the space mug, he noticed that Pidge was a little above eye level with him with her sitting up so high. Her bare feet swung and tapped the cupboards below. She took a sip with her eyes never leaving his face. It was like staring into a spotlight.

“Stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look. The one on your face.”

Pidge just grinned and raised an eyebrow at him. Lance busied himself with finding what passed for nutritious food around here. If she wouldn’t sleep, he’d at least get some protein into her. And himself, holy quiznak he was hungry. She was still staring at him when he looked up.

Desperate not to spontaneously combust under that gaze, he blurted the first distraction that sprung to mind. “Last night I saw Matt leaving Keith’s room!”

She choked on her drink. “Leaving like they’d just finished a late-night conversation or…”

“Well. I heard some stuff through the wall last night that definitely wasn’t talking. More like moaning.”

“UGH, Lance! What the fuck!”

“Pretty sure that’s what Keith was doing to – ”

“Finish that sentence and I will destroy all your skin care stuff.” She rubbed her forehead. “Why would you say that to me? Now I’ve got that mental image of my brother and…gah.”

Was that his brightest decision? Yeah, probably not. Lance knew more than well enough how gross hearing about your sibling’s sex life can be, even just mentioning its existence. But desperate times called for desperate measures and she’d finally stopped scrutinizing him. He could breathe normally again.

He ended up shoving a bowl of food goo into Pidge’s hands (what? He could barely cook Earth food) and hopping onto the kitchen island across from her with his own bowl of Jell-O-y green weirdness. They ate in silence for a while.

Eventually Pidge spoke up, looking into her bowl and using her spoon to play with the goo. Avoiding his eyes. “Actually, I’m kinda worried about Keith.”

“Why? Is your brother a heart-breaker?”

“I’m serious, Lance.” She sent him a brief glare then looked away again. “Keith fell apart last time Shiro disappeared. What’s he gonna do now that he’s lost him twice?”

“Three times.”

“What?” she asked distractedly.

“Keith lost Shiro three times. Kerberos first.”

“Oh. Right.” Pidge stabbed her food. Lance looked carefully at her face. Her eyes, kept stubbornly wide open, were shining with unshed tears.

Lance had already cried himself dry yesterday. “Keith’s gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay. I swear Shiro’s still alive.”

She looked up at him. “Did Ezor tell you that?”

“No, she said he was probably dead. But he has to be alive! I know it, I could feel it. Remember? In the void thing? That had to be him.”

“I hope you’re right, Lance.” She set her bowl down, got down off the counter, then hopped up onto the island, sitting next to him. She smelled oddly like berries and tea.

“Pidge…” he started slowly. “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

He could see her struggling with her answer. She was so close that he felt her body heat on his arm. I guess it makes sense a girl’s gonna be the death of me.

“I couldn’t sleep.” The words sounded rough and quiet. “So I went to the med bay to study the clone. Lance, every cell, every gene sequence, every piece of circuitry, even the scars matched perfectly with our scans of Shiro’s physiology. I kept thinking if I could find the differences then I could figure out how he was being controlled. But it looks exactly like him.”

Her head fell on his shoulder and she squeezed her eyes tight. The soft impact dislodged her glasses. Lance carefully took them off her face and set them aside (and tried to ignore his heartbeat insisting that this was a crisis). He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she curled into him.

“I kept thinking what if he was the real Shiro? What if I was wrong? What if he’d actually been corrupted somehow? I did sleep, for like five minutes. I just dreamed about shooting him, over and over and over again. So I got out of bed and built a voice-altering gadget. Hold me a little tighter, please?”

He did. “Pidge, why did you shoot him? What made you so sure?”

“It’ll sound weird.”

“You have floating fluffy caterpillars for pets and I found you on the roof scanning the solar system for aliens, and you’re worried about weird now?”

She laughed and it made his heart a little lighter. “I looked him in the eyes and it was painful. Like when someone shines a flashlight in your eyes. You should’ve seen his expression when he attacked you, Lance. It was feral.”

“You wanna know what’s messed up? When you said it wasn’t Shiro, when Lotor said it was a clone, I was relieved. I didn’t wanna think Shiro would yell at me like that.”

She mumbled into his shirt, “Never. Shiro would never say all that bullshit. I guess it all makes sense now.” Pidge gasped and so suddenly Lance swore he got whiplash she jumped out of his arms and onto the floor, leaving the right side of his body feeling cold. Her eyes went manic again.

“Lance! If that was Shiro, really Shiro talking to us in the Voltron mindscape then we can talk to him through Voltron!”

The solution was so painfully obvious he couldn’t believe they’d overlooked it until now. “He’s connected to the Black Lion, who’s connected to the other Lions – Pidge we have to try this right now! We need to get in our Lions and talk to Shiro!”

“We need find Allura and Hunk and get Keith!”

Part 10

[sp4c3-0ddity]

If you're taking prompts... Can I ask for Hunk and a space chicken? 👀

i’ve been waiting my entire life for this prompt. thank you for enabling my Hunk + birds habit on top of my love for chickens ;_;

also timeline in this is all over the place so let’s call it canon divergent. ~2000 words, and i hope you like it

If there was one thing from Earth - beside his family - Hunk missed it was chicken eggs.

Sure, there were other foods and herbs and spices he couldn’t quite replicate with ingredients from alien plants - although he found capsaicin in the exoskeleton of a beetle-like insect thing and ground it to season curry for Shiro…not that he’d tell him that was the source - but he never found anything resembling a chicken egg.

The consistency would be all wrong, the yolk a strange color, too much cholesterol or too little protein, a shell even the Yellow Lion’s foot couldn’t crack (and Hunk really didn’t want to know what would hatch from an egg that tough)...

Hunk just wanted a quiznaking omelet.

“Are you sure these are edible?” Pidge held an oblong object that barely fit in the palm of her small hand up to the kitchen’s light. It seemed to reflect the lights overhead, with the darker spots of pigmentation absorbing.

Hunk carefully snatched it from her hand. It was soft and squishy, sort of like a water balloon, under his fingertips, and he guessed he’d have to puncture the...skin to get at the edible flesh.

And when he shone a light through it, a round core absorbed the rays, the flesh almost translucent.

Hunk set it beside the others in a large platter. “You and I have both scanned them,” he pointed out, “and they might be a little protein-rich for fruit, but they don’t contain anything toxic to humans.”

Pidge folded her arms on the counter and leaned towards the platter. “Seems a little...risky though,” she mused. “Remember that spotted fuzzy fruit you tried to fry like plantains?”

His shoulders sagged, renewed guilt making his heart sink, but he couldn’t help retorting, “It’s not my fault Lance ate half of them before I could warn him that too many would probably have side-effects.”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed. “He couldn’t walk further than five meters from a bathroom for almost a movement.”

“And I still feel bad about that!” he protested, his stomach twinging with a sympathetic nausea.

“Not as bad as he did,” she retorted. She prodded one of the water balloon fruits with a fingertip. “Where did you find these anyway?”

“Under a tree,” Hunk said. He rummaged through a drawer until his fingers closed around a small knife - something with a bit more point than a spork. “Kind of in a ring? And they definitely feel ripe.”

“Really?” When he turned to face Pidge, her eyebrow was raised. “Why do you think that alien fruit would follow the same rules as Earth fruit?”

“Because so far other rules have been pretty consistent.” Hunk clutched a balloon fruit in one hand and pressed the tip of the knife into its flexible skin, watching how it puckered under. Just a little more pressure... “I mean, it seems like photosynthesis is pretty universal, for one, and for another--”

He broke off when the knife’s point punctured the skin, a triumphant grin pushing at his lips when a viscous white fluid oozed out. He transferred the fruit to a pan on the stove and sliced open the rest of the skin.

The dark core was a deep yellow and definitely not hard enough to be a pit.

Hunk stared at the blob of clear white fluid with its soft yellow center. “Uh...quiznak.”

“Um, Hunk? Something’s happening with one of your so-called fruits.”

He spun around, the tension in Pidge’s voice making his heart race as he turned his attention to the remaining balloon fruit sitting in their platter.

One quivered in place, as if shaken by tremors that only affected it. Its skin rippled before something pointy poked it from the inside.

Hunk stumbled backwards away from the counter, raising the knife in his hands and wishing he had his bayard . “Oh God we’re in a horror movie!” he realized. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew--”

The fruit exploded.

Pidge gasped, arms raised to shield her face, while something wet hit Hunk’s forehead. His eyes pinched shut as a fluid trickled down towards them, and when he dared open them again his breath caught in his throat.

“I-I think I prefer this to Alien,” Pidge commented, eyes wide behind her glasses as she leaned over the platter and the tiny fuzzy chick cheeping in the center.

Pidge insisted on slipping the rest of the water balloon eggs underneath a lamp to incubate and see if they’d also “hatch”, but when the noisy baby that enjoyed pooping on Hunk’s palm proved the only survivor (or the only fertilized) of the clutch, he happily cooked the rest.

“Are those eggs I smell?” Lance wondered. He skipped across the kitchen from the doorway, a dreamy smile on his face as he loudly inhaled. “Poached?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Pidge said. She flashed a teasing smirk at Hunk.

He scowled and, rather than retorting, watched the eggs - that, now that he had the opportunity to cook and examine them, had an odd green sheen to their yolks - cooking in boiling water.

Lance peeked into the saucepan. “You have ham to go with those green eggs?”

“As soon as Hunk finds a green pig,” Pidge told him.

“Hey, Pidge, can you make yourself useful and check on Ramsay please?” Hunk cut in before she and Lance could get a little too into their teasing.

“Ramsay?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “You have an Egyptian pharaoh hiding in the pantry?”

“That’s Ramses,” Pidge corrected, although she obediently hopped off her stool and walked over to the bin in the corner with the lamp shining over it. “This is Ramsay.”

She scooped up the chick in all his fluffy, cheeping, magenta glory and wandered back towards them. The baby’s eyes slipped shut when she stroked its head, a soft smile on her face.

“Get him out of the kitchen before he poops on his siblings’ remains!” Hunk said, raising a spatula in alarm.

Pidge turned, shielding Ramsay from him and with her lower lip jutting out in a pout. “You’re the one who murdered them.”

“And we both agreed they were never alive!”

“Okay...” Lance glanced between the two of them. “This sounds like some weird science thing I don’t want to get in the middle of.”

“And how do you know Ramsay is male anyway?” Pidge wondered. She lifted the chick to eye level, squinting at his underside. “It’s a chick!”

“There are ways,” Hunk pointed out.

“I’m sure,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but do you know them?”

“Ooh, actually”--Lance raised his hand as he broke out into a broad grin--”if he’s anything like a baby chicken from Earth, I can sex him.”

“You can?” Pidge set Ramsay on her shoulder...just so she could cross her arms.

“Uh, sure?”

“He can milk a cow,” Hunk reminded her. “Why not say if a chick is going to be a rooster or a hen?”

“Huh.” Pidge passed Ramsay to Lance, who...

Well, Lance squealed like a little kid. “Aw, he’s so cute! Just like a chick from Earth!” He poked the tiny barely there tail and ran a finger down the chick’s back.

“So he’s a boy?” Hunk said.

“I didn’t even look yet!” Lance lifted the chick and... “Oh, Hunk, I think you gotta change his name to Rachel Ray or something.”

“Girl?”

“Yep.” Lance grinned and said, “But if it gets us more eggs...”

A gasp escaped him, excitement gripping. “Lance, you’re a genius!” Hunk clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You can tell that’s a girl,” Pidge said, her eyes wide and incredulous, “but it surprised you when I said I’m one?”

Hunk laughed when Lance only scowled.

Ramsay - name unchanged, despite Lance’s suggestion - ate anything.

She was a hen after Hunk’s own heart.

“Not a very good critic, is she?” Lance commented.

“She’s growing fast,” Allura said. She smiled, cooing over the chick sitting in her lap while the mice looked on with what Hunk guessed must be jealousy.

(He’d have to watch them around Ramsay.)

Predictably, the smile twisted into a disgusted grimace when the chick dropped one on her dress.

“I suppose pets do have their...drawbacks,” Allura mused with a frown.

Hunk scooped her back up and smiled sheepishly. “I’ll keep her confined.”

“And away from Keith’s wolf?” Lance said with a nod at the door.

“Keith’s wolf teleports,” Pidge piped up. “If he wants to eat unripened chicken for breakfast, doors won’t stop him.”

Hunk’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. “I’ll...talk to Keith about that.”

Keith, however...

“You have time to raise a chick on top of being a Paladin?” Keith wondered.

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “I have time to cook for you guys, Lance has time to milk Kaltenecker, Pidge and he have time to play video games, you have time to train till you put too much strain on every muscle in your--”

“Fine, I get it,” Keith cut him off with a hand covering his face.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that Kosmo is not allowed anywhere near Ramsay,” Hunk said.

As if summoned by the sound of his name (which...well, he was something like a dog), Kosmo teleported into view in a burst of light. Hunk reflexively stepped away, cradling Ramsay between his hands, but when the cosmic wolf’s nose twitched in curiosity, he extended his arms.

He held his breath as Kosmo sniffed the obliviously cheeping chick. He stiffened when the wolf’s tongue flicked out.

Kosmo licked the chick’s downy feathered back.

“He likes her,” Keith said.

“Yeah b-but how?” Hunk said. “He’s about to give me a heart attack...”

Keith smiled but clicked his tongue. Kosmo spun around at attention, ears on end. “He won’t eat her if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh! Oh good.” The tension trickled out of Hunk’s shoulders, and as soon as Keith and Kosmo left he fell into a boneless relieved heap with Ramsay sitting on his stomach.

Ramsay grew to be the size of a chicken in only a few movements. But unlike a chicken from Earth, her down feathers gave way to scales.

“Well, birds on Earth descended from the dinosaurs,” Pidge said.

“She’s really ugly this way,” Lance said.

“Excuse you, she’s my child and she’s beautiful!” Hunk retorted, shooting a glare at him.

“But she looks like a chubby and flightless pterodactyl!” Lance gestured at where Ramsay foraged through the meadow alongside Kaltenecker.

The not-chicken - space chicken, they all, except for Allura and Coran, took to calling her - gathered scraps of grass into a heap, almost like...

“She’s building a nest,” Lance observed with a grin. “Aw, look who’s getting ready to lay eggs!”

“What, already?!” Hunk shot up with alarm, a sudden lump lodging in his throat. “I-I’m not ready to be a grandfather!”

“Relax!” Lance said, standing and patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll be here to support you, but only if I get to be the chicks’ godfather.”

“Uh, you guys are kind of forgetting something important,” Pidge said as she joined them.

“What?”

“Ramsay doesn’t have a mate to fertilize her eggs.”

Hunk exchanged a glance with Lance, then he looked at Pidge. “Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as embarrassment filled him. “I knew that.”

Hunk never had considered chickens a viable pet before, but Ramsay followed him everywhere. She trailed him through the Castle’s hallways, leaving poop he’d have to clean up later in her wake, and hopped into his lap when he sat down. Her eyes closed in contentment when he rubbed her vicious beak, and she perched for the “night” on his bed frame.

And if Allura, Pidge, Lance, and Keith could have pets, why couldn’t Hunk think of this strange space chicken that imprinted on him as one?

He’d see about Shiro adopting a cat later…once Ramsay learned to lay her eggs in a nest and not on the kitchen floor where a certain princess’s mice could steal them.

[no-i-didnt-notice-im-short]

Candy Apples

Ao3 

Holing himself in his room became a force of habit after some time. He stopped needing human interaction in any way, shape or form. He was perfectly comfortable the way he is.

He was the Loner after all.

Keith didn’t realise at first that he re-adapted this mannerism after going back to Earth. His mother tried so hard to break his bad habits, succeeding with some of them, but his anti-socialness was something carved into him from years of experience.

He sat alone silently watching from the window. Lance and Hunk appeared a few times driving the Garrison issued car to and from the city. He knew how much everyone else missed their home planet with its sense of familiarity, but Keith couldn’t bring himself to relate. All he knew was pain and loneliness; I guess they are the same thing sometimes, Keith thought to himself.

The ex-Red Paladin was so deep in thought he didn’t notice another figure standing behind him. Shiro placed his hand on his shoulder, startling the younger male have to death.

“Shit!”

His Luxite blade was aim on Shiro’s neck in a matter of seconds. His steady hand faithful to his heart which was beating a million miles an hour.

“Woah! Don’t startle the zoned out Galra… Got it.” Shiro smiled as Keith brought his knife down and sat back down shifting to the side to give Shiro some space.

“Do I even have to ask?”

“I was thinking…”

“About?”

Keith thought for a few minutes before having the courage to answer. “My dad…”

There must’ve been something in his voice to sober the older male up. He sat straighter and turned to give Keith his undivided attention.

“I just remembered something we used to do together every year.” When Shiro didn’t interrupt, Keith took this as a sign to keep going with his memory. “There was this carnival every year, a few states over… it would take us literal hours to a day to get there, but we still would pack our stuff at the same date every year and get in his truck to go. It a tradition.”

“Was it the Colour Festival they have every year? The one with the big roller-coaster?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“I went there with Adam a few times… The last date we ever went on outside of Garrison was there.” He remembered Adam’s laugh at him when a clown came from behind him to tickle his side and Shiro jumped up so high and shrieked so loud, he scared the crap out of the nearby children. Shiro’s fear of clowns was Adam’s Eternal Entertainment as he used to put it.

“We would go through all the shooting games moving to the roller coasters then ending at the hall of mirrors.” His eyes glazed over, he wasn’t present anymore. He was at the carnival eating candy apples and cotton candy. “Dad would save all year for this one day at the carnival; we would spend money like crazy, without any worries. God... I loved those Candy Apples.

“I really do miss him. I know I don’t… talk about what happened before we met that day for the orientation.”

“I never pushed you because it was none of my business, Keith. Of course I know you miss your father. He’s your father.”

“Yeah… I used to hear the other kids said about me and what they thought my relationship with my father actually was. I heard some of them call him abusive or a drunk. I never understood why… he never drank, he was always so nice and caring and loving. He would tuck me to bed every night after watching the stars. He used to say that looking at the stars reminded him of my mother.” He chuckled at that. “I never knew he meant that so literal.”

“He sounds like a great man.”

“He really was.”

They stayed quiet for a few minutes before Shiro once again disrupted it.

“How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know. I think right after the mission.”

“That was four hours ago…”

“Huh, guess four hours then.”

The fact that Keith didn’t think that four hours was a disturbingly long amount of time to spend alone was concerning. Shiro knew Keith was different but as his closest friend he really wanted to try and get him out of the bubble he always seemed to curl himself into. He knew it was a defence mechanism. He wasn’t blind; he saw what the boy went through.

Lance, Hunk and Pidge were a gift in disguise. They were such a diverse group, bringing out the best and the worst in each other, making sure they all remained grounded and humane; reminding everyone where they came from. The trio adopting Keith into their little group took time but overall it was the best thing that could’ve happened to him in space, besides finding his mother of course.

Shiro dying changed everything. It forced a lot of decisions to be made and a lot of shifting dynamics, shaking the foundation of the team. Lance and Keith got significantly closer each other, Hunk and Pidge to each other and Allura became a Paladin. The clone came and more changes happened though for the worse this time.

Keith pushed himself so far away from the team, he left it entirely. Lance became too quiet and subdued, Hunk and Pidge forgot other people existed in the castle and the Alteans were busy with Lotor. The whole final showdown happened but still things were extremely sensitive between the ex-castle residents.

Shiro tried so hard to pinpoint a reason why everything was so... different, to try and fix it, but nothing became clear for a long time that by then, the damage was done.

After spending a few weeks on Earth now, Lance bounced back – not with the same possible enthusiasm as before – after reuniting with his family. Pidge and Hunk too. But not Keith.

Krolia had to leave for a few months to help the Blade after losing so many members and to get the word out to the allies that Voltron is still alive, leaving Keith again. He stayed quiet after her ship departed not making eye contact with anyone.

Days passed fast and Shiro couldn’t pinpoint a moment Keith had joined the team outside of missions.

Keith ruffled with Kosmo’s hair as he sat on his lap on the bed. Shiro left him a while ago after getting a call, saying it was from Iverson and that it was important.

“Go, He needs you.”

“Come with me…”

“Nah... I’ll be fine; I want to play with Kosmo.”

“…Fine but we’ll talk later, okay? “

“Yeah okay, General Shiro.”

“I hate you.”

“I know!! Goo.”

Keith was contemplating getting up and getting something to eat or to just leave it for the next morning when a knock rapped on his door.

“KEEEEEEEEEEEEITH”

Lance’s maniac voice came booming from outside the door. it had a hint of sing-song to it. Keith can’t remember the last time he has heard Lance this excited about anything.

He gently moved Kosmo and made his way to the door.

“I think you parents in Cuba heard you.”

“Good. They miss me and would love to hear my voice.”

He rolled his eyes at the Cuban and crossed his arms.

“Shiro left a few minutes ago.”

“Actually, Shiro left 2 hours ago and we’ll touch on that later.” Ignoring Keith objections. “And I came for you, by the way. Pidge and Hunk created this insane gladiator bot they want you to try out.”

“Is that what’s making you this happy?”

“I miss training and if you give it the thumbs up then it’s perfect.” Lance said with a shrug.

“Fine, lead the way.”

“Great!”

The walk was comfortable. Lance’s good mood was infectious and Keith couldn’t help but have a small smile on his face as they walked through the halls.

His mind wandered subconsciously on how things have been lately. He missed his mother way more than he would like to admit after spending every waking hour with her for two years. He missed the rush of Adrenaline he would get on missions with the Paladins or the Blade. Threats on Earth were never to the same scale as before, which was actually a good thing but it still left a shred of disappointment in Keith.

Lance stopped as they reached a closed door.

“I don’t have my knife or Bayard with me.” Keith remembered.

“It’s okay there are weapons inside.” Lance shrugged. “Can you open the door; I think I pissed Pidge off and I am afraid she programmed the thing to bite my head of at my mere sight.”

Keith chuckled and stepped forward to open the door.

The minute the door opened, a burst of sound and light erupted from the other side sending him into sensory overload. After the initial shock cleared and calmed down, he took a better look at what’s infront of him.

Hunk stood in the middle of the room with the biggest cake Keith had ever seen. It was so colourful and beautifully designed, he almost felt bad that they might have to eat it. Pidge was next to him to the right holding a cardboard banner that said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH” in a way that showed she definitely misjudged the space she was given and had to rush a few letters around each other.

Veronica, James and the rest of MFE pilots stood at the back holding gifts all in different sizes and shapes, wrapped in mismatching gift-wrapping paper. Allura, Romelle and Coran, who had the biggest smiles on their faces, were standing behind a table with plates upon plates filled with all kinds of food and pastries and candies.

And finally Shiro stood the closest to the door, right in front of him. In his hands he held a tray with a candy apple placed upside down in the middle. He was looking at him with a soft fond smile. An arm  snaked its way around his and gently pushed him further inside the room. Lance had unshed tears sparkling in his eyes as they made eye contact.

“We missed you.”

Happy Birthday to my Red Spicy Boi. I love you

[san-bika]

In the Garden Together

Fandom: Voltron

Pairing: Shance

Length: 2535 words

Rating: General

Warnings: Brief description of a panic attack; discussion of politics, little but of Langst, little bit of fluff,  banter, genre-defying fic, liberal use of the word quiznak

@prosaicwonder - here is your gift! Work has been awful lately and I had to work late on the 1st so I’m sorry it’s a little late. I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt: peony (honor, respect, romance, prosperity, bashfulness)

@shanceflowerexchange thanks for understanding my work situation. It’s been tough the last few weeks. 

The Rose Garden of the White House was ethereal; hazy sun, windswept blooms, and clumsy dragonflies set Lance’s heart at ease, pulling the tension from his shoulders. He wondered if it would be inappropriate to stretch out on a cozy patch of grass to watch the clouds.

But Paladins of Voltron probably shouldn’t be looking for rocket ships and butterflies and daydreaming, especially not during their official introduction to Earth with so many opportunistic photographers around.

And besides, Coran and Allura probably wouldn’t want him to get grass stains on his formal red and white Altean suit.

Lance was pretty sure some of the snaps already taken of him wouldn’t be the most… dignified pictures ever taken. But hey, who didn’t want a goofy selfie at the Oval Office! And if the entire universe had liked the Loverboy Lance persona, why wouldn’t Earth?

His stomach twisted at the thought that international press and the United States government leaders were just a few hundred feet away. He could literally feel responsibility weighing him down like a pile of bricks.

Everything had to go perfectly today. The entire galaxy watching was one thing, but this was his home, with consequences that he understood. Every step, and misstep, had nightmare-ish ramifications. It has been easier saving the universe when they had been fly-by-night vigilantes, or working with a coalition of grateful aliens.

Now Allura and Shiro had to prepare, consider, plan every word and gesture. (The paladins hadn’t thought to mention that among all the many human idiosyncrasies was the fact that human politics were a nightmare.)

Normally Lance enjoyed strategy and schemes but this kind of high-pressure focus on the worst case scenario and motivations behind everything left him feeling… inadequate at best. They had saved the universe. But he didn’t enjoy the reminder that life wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

Everything sent message, even their clothing was carefully planned out - they had chosen Altean formalwear similar to Coran’s outfit, with tightly fitted high collars, formal boots, and tailored capes to emphasize that just because the Paladins came from Earth, their mission, and Voltron’s, couldn’t be subject to Earthly plots and hierarchy.

Even if the human Paladins all hailed from the Galaxy Garrison in the United States, three of them were dual citizens, and one had been half-Galran. Shiro and Allura had been very clear that during any interviews and discussions, they were expected to show no preference, no bias.

Which was all well and good, but apparently even mentioning Varadero Beach in a silly spur of the moment reddit AskMeAnything was tantamount to declaring a Cuban alliance, if the way the reporters had crowded around him a few minutes ago meant anything.

“Mr. McClain, do you have a moment? Recently you mentioned your favorite place in the world was in Cuba, do you have any plans to return there to settle down? What are the chances that the Voltron Coalition would choose Cuba to be its headquarters? Why not choose a country that has been a democratic republic since its founding-”

“Uh, that was just something I said, I mean, I, uh, think that’s a better question for Princess Allura, or maybe Shiro, I mean Commander Shirogane, excuse me, I’m not feeling well at the moment…”

“Mr. McClain, Mr. Mcclain, one more question!”

Lance sighed and twisted a long blade of grass between his gloved hands. He huffed out a breath, trying to settle that uneasy feeling in his gut and muttered to himself as he walked.

“Movies always make everything look cool and dramatic, everything works out perfect. Good guys win, bad guy loses, hero gets a kiss and rides off into the sunset... and you don’t see all of the quiznacking politics and soulless paparazzi and… stupid, dumb, idiotic things that heroes say.”

His cheeks were still flushed with humiliation thinking that he’d rushed out of the press crowd like… a kid having a tantrum. Not behavior worthy of a Paladin of Voltron. But at the moment, he really didn’t know what would have happened if he’d stay. Most likely he’d have screwed up again somehow.

He turned down the path to the Children’s Garden and sprawled across the bench, wishing there weren’t secret servicemen around so he stretch across the warm lawn or under one of the historic trees. Even in peacetime, he couldn’t help but note the position of the black suits standing around the grounds.

After his abysmal answer, other reporters had blocked his path to the meeting room where the others were. The air around him had felt hot and tight, and the room had begun to spin. He’d never tease Hunk for his weak stomach again after that experience.

As the cameras had rolled and journalists talked over each other, as he’d stood uncomfortable and alone, he’d realized that as soon as he entered the conference room with the others he would be seated next to the president. And heads of state. World leaders. And he’d be expected to talk and answer questions of intergalactic significance. Questions like the one he’d just flubbed.

All of the preparation they’d done had not helped prepare him for this moment. It was easy to be diplomatic and interested when he was learning about new alien races and species and politics on the fly. It was like a game of pretend with his niece and nephew! Just learn the names, titles, and ask a lot of questions and boom - instant diplomacy.

But on Earth, he knew the names and he knew the consequences. Here, he knew which country was fighting against others using cyberterrorism and which countries were just using pure propaganda. Here there were still revolutions and oppression. He had feelings about which leader was a hypocritical ass and which ones were heaven-sent.

But then again, he was the kind of guy whose first instinct upon meeting an alien ruler was to hit on her. His opinions and his instinct… well, they didn’t really matter, did they?

Take a deep breath and relax. In and out. Allura and Shiro are going to smooth everything over. Worst case scenario, they’ll think you’re a traumatized veteran and maybe leave you alone.

At that thought, Lance’s lip curled in self-disgust. The blade of grass he had shredded was now coloring his crisp gloves green but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His fingers were trembling. Huh.

You’re not cut out for this. Maybe in the universe, you were something. But here, on this planet, you’re nothing but a goofball. You were meant to be a cargo pilot not some hero… not some thoughtless vain loser who shoots his mouth off before he thinks.

He didn’t realize he was biting his lip until he tasted warm copper on his tongue.

“And you officially are an idiot. Good going McClain.”

Lance dropped his head into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and praying he’d keep his composure.

A thousand thoughts flew through his head. He could leave for the Castle, but then he’d have to deal with the others later, and what would he say? 

“Gee, sorry, guys, I guess I’m not cut out for this whole Paladin gig after all, toodles.”

Hopefully he could make up a story about tripping on something. He didn’t know how he could explain a cut lip any other way. They might believe it if he just owned up the fact the he’d cracked and couldn’t handle the pressure that they all seemed to thrive on.

“Boo.” There was a tap on his shoulder from out of nowhere.

For a brief, adrenaline-filled moment, Lance thought his heart would stop. But he couldn’t get angry. Shiro was grinning, he could tell just by the sound of his voice.

Lance clutched at his heart and pouted as the leader dropped to sit neatly next to him. And here comes a lecture. At least I can enjoy his quiznaking perfectly tailored suit...

“Well, there’s another year off of my life. I hope you’re happy.”

Shiro dropped his head back and filled his lungs with the summer air, a subtle little smirk on his face.

“I am. But for a guy relaxing in the sun on such a gorgeous day, you seem a little tense.”

It was like a glass of water had been poured down his back. Lance stopped sucking on his lip as sheer horror flooded him. He dropped the grass and sat ramrod straight, “Shiro, I’m so sorry about the Conference, what did you guys say to the President? I mean, I didn’t mean to run but I just wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t know what to-”

Shiro turned to face him, concerned. He placed that heavy Galra hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry, take a breath, Sharpshooter. It’s ok. If’d you stayed just a few more minutes you would’ve seen Pidge arguing with the Chief of Staff about our cybersecurity, Hunk actually getting sick and having to leave, and Keith completely tongue-tied in front of the press. We’ve rescheduled.”

The other man shuddered and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He looked down at his feet.

“I’m sorry. Maybe the others wouldn’t have fallen apart if I hadn’t talked to those reporters in the first place. I got distracted and fell behind. I don’t even think they were supposed to be there.”

Shiro nodded, wrinkling his nose. “They really weren’t. You’d think security would be upped with all of the politicians here, but apparently they were let in by another staff member as a favor. But how are you feeling? You don’t look sick, you seem…. Upset.”

A tiny voice in Lance’s head let out an exasperated sigh. As dense as Shiro could be, now he was going to be all perceptive?

“I am, I mean, I was until you came over. I was just overwhelmed. Didn’t really know what to say or do, so I thought leaving might be the best way out. I’m not sure I should come next time. Earth politics aren’t really my forte, you know.”

Shiro’s metal hand was getting too warm in the sun, but Lance refused to move.

He liked the weight of it.

“I know what you mean. We all heard them talking to you from the conference room, there was just such a swarm around you, it was hard to get through and then you were gone.”

Ahhh, guilt, Lance thought morosely.

“I really am sorry, Shiro. I shouldn’t have said anything or done any press beforehand. I didn’t think of the consequences. If you want me to, I don’t know, give a press conference about it, I will. I don’t want my stupid comments to cause World War 3.”

Shiro actually smiled here, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“Actually finding out what you said online made me really happy.”

At first the paladin thought he might be getting heat stroke before realizing it was a furious, deep red blush.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Oops, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

His leader dropped his head to the side, eyes coy and restful like they hadn’t been in quite a while.

“Really, when Pidge showed me your chats and comment replies, it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders.”

Considering the amount of innuendos, puns, and just general stupid junk he’d posted, the word flabbergasted fit nicely here.

“Why??” Lance managed to croak.

Shiro dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking uncertain for the first time.

“I mean, it’s some proof that you’re ok, isn’t it? A sign that we made it through and you’re still Lance. Not to say we don’t have our traumas and scars but knowing that you are so ready to just live life and let loose…. It makes me feel like I, like we all can do that too.”

Lance tried to say something, but his voice warbled with emotion and he didn’t say anything at all. He tried to count the smooth pathstones in front of him but his brain was uselessly combing through every word Shiro had just said.

He settled on a thank you but was waved off by his friend.

“You’re not entirely off the hook. You have to clear any online communications with us beforehand, of course. And you look like you just had a panic attack, which we’ll have to talk about later. You shouldn’t be feeling that stressed over diplomacy when that’s one of your strong suits. And we have to get back soon. Since we’re rescheduling, the UN is going to have an impromptu meeting to determine Earth’s approach to Voltron, so we really should give them some ...space to get to it.”

Lance rolled his eyes and stood up, “I can’t believe you just dad-joked me.” He turned to head back towards the others when he came face to face with  a scarlet red flower with hundreds of creped petals.

A peony, Mama’s favorite flower.

Lance’s favorite flower.

His heart began a steady drum as he followed the line up to Shiro’s pink cheeks.

What the quiznak is going on?

“I just saw a few over there and remember that you liked these... So I picked it to cheer you up.”

Shiro struggled with what to say and Lance was too emotionally drained to handle this.

“How did you know I liked this flower? I don’t ever remember telling you that.”

Shiro swallowed hard. “It came up. I have… a good memory.”

Lance could feel his eye beginning to twitch and his cheeks redden.

“Okay, stepping away from that bald-faced lie, are you telling me you picked a flower from the WHITE HOUSE GARDEN to cheer me up?”

The other man shrugged and offered a helpless expression.

“I mean, I didn’t think they’d get mad, we’re the Paladins of Voltron.”

“Shiro, there are signs everywhere that say very clearly not to pick the flowers. And you seem awfully okay with abusing your power now that we’re back on Earth! Picking flowers from the White House Garden! What’s next, counting cards in Vegas??”

The leader stepped forward, pulling him into a warm hug, laughing. Lance’s brain began to melt down when he felt the Galra hand gently rubbing his back.

“Who knew you’d be so bashful. You’re a hard person to woo, Lance.”

At this rate, Lance wouldn’t be useful at any diplomatic meeting for the foreseeable future. No, his brain was drifting somewhere with the clouds and his heart was racing with happiness.

Shiro stepped back to cradle Lance’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry I stole from the White House Garden, I’ll tell someone and offer to pay for it. But please keep the peony. It’s been an honor standing by your side as a teammate. And I feel even happier when I realize that you are nearly as whole, perfect, vibrant as the day you first stepped onto Blue. I’d meant to tell you about my feelings later, but you just looked so cute with that blush it all came out.”

RIP Lance McClain, the Cuban thought idly as he gazed, starstruck, into his hero’s dark eyes.

He laughed as a wide smile crawled across his face, reached out to embrace Shiro, and accidentally tripped, smashing his face against the other’s.

And as first kisses went, it was one of the better ones.

[mythoughtstation]

Black Paladin Lance

(I’m pretty happy with the interview with jeremy shada but now that the adrenaline has passed i need to kind of just...disassociate for a little bit, and i decided to do that by jotting down an idea for black paladin lance i had)

i’ve seen the idea of lance as the black paladin bounced around on my dash and my emotions were all over the place for it. i was thrilled with the idea of it cuz please let my starboy shine so so so bright, but at the same time i feel like that’s a huge burden that i’d hate to see him have to heft, especially when it’s one that two of the strongest people he knows have pretty much struggled under. But i’ve convinced myself while writing this that i think lance would not only be able to do it, but might be one of the few people who can successfully handle the black lion, buuuut that’s a rant for later...

so i’m putting it under a readmore cuz, not gonna lie, it’s probably going to be long. i’m not saying this is what i think will happen in S5+ (as much as i’d love it) and i’m no fantastic writer, and it’s written like a cross between fanfiction and headcanon, but it’s my attempt at getting this idea out of my head once and for all.

It would be a slow build with Lance butting heads with Shiro more and more over time.

It begins with small incidents of Lance’s opinions or questions being lightly brushed aside, Shiro almost unconsciously treating them as if they held no real value (Shiro is used to Goofball Lance, the Lance who would have followed him without a second thought, but Lance has been Keith’s right hand for a while now, so he’s used to being more active in planning and co-leading the team with Keith). Slowly, these small snubs grow into full-out arguments amongst the two, varying from the safety of the team/civilians during a mission or just plain old Shiro not listening to him, in or out of battle. I picture stuff like them bickering in the hangers over dangerous, needless maneuvers/plans or Shiro not listening to Lance mid-battle and putting the entire team in jeopardy. I don’t see like “get-in-your-face-screaming” arguing, but more like Shiro talking down to Lance like he’s a little kid in need of a time out and Lance just getting more and more desperately frustrated and just “why won’t you listen to me!”. Tension builds, walls go up, and Pidge, Hunk, and Allura feel like kids stuck in the back seat of the car while mom and dad fight over directions. They step between the two a lot, but otherwise don’t pick sides because, while they agree a lot the time with Lance, it’s hard for them to take his side when it’s against Shiro, their fearless leader, the man with the plan, the guy who always knows exactly what’s best for the team...right?

Well, eventually, everything hits its breaking point when the next climactic fight comes a knockin’ and Shiro’s plan is, I guess, like 99.9% chance of death or something along those lines, and, this time, it’s the whole team arguing against it and he just isn’t listening to them. Everyone’s losing their heads (Hunk’s freaking out, Pidge is calculating their chances and shouting out statistics, and Allura is trying to keep everyone calm and not at each other’s throats) and meanwhile, Lance is squaring off with Shiro, finally toe to toe with him saying flat out “No. You have to listen to me.” In the end, Shiro finally snaps and starts saying stuff like he’s the black paladin, the black lion chose him to lead the team, he knows what’s best for the team and so on and so forth (this can all be blamed on either clone!shiro or the strain of the “Galra Abduction, Take 2” or whatever it turns out to be, but this Shiro is obviously not the Shiro we knew, one who’s completely frayed at the seams, at the very least)

In the end, Shiro whips around angrily, ending the discussion with the rest of the team still trying to talk reason into him, and goes towards the black lion...only for her barrier to suddenly go up in front of him. Everyone freezes. There’s a few seconds of dead silence as they just stare at the glimmering shield before…

Total pandemonium. The entire hanger is in complete chaos as each of the paladins, and a now concerned Coran, proceed to yell over one another while a stunned Shiro continues to stare at the black lion, unable to say a word even as his team shouts desperate questions at him, “Shiro what happened? What do we do now? Shiro?” When it becomes apparent that their team leader is even more at a loss than they are, they turn to each other, shouting out ideas and questions and reminders that an armada was basically parked right at their front stoop and they were down, not only one paladin, but the black lion, and no time to find a replacement! Should we find Keith? How would we find him? We have no idea where he is and even less time to contact the Blade to ask them, let alone go get him! But who else could pilot the black lion??

Meanwhile, with all the confusion and mounting fear, nobody really takes notice of the fact that Shiro isn’t the only other paladin to remain oddly silent…

Nobody realizes that, while everyone else was tossing around and turning down ideas on how to fill the black paladin spot asap, Allura had not added any sort of input. In fact, when the black lion had first rejected Shiro, she had remained the calmest of them all, despite being just as surprised as the others. Instead of reacting outwardly, she tried to suss out the problem in her own head. Sorting through the events preceding the black lion shutting Shiro out, what had triggered it? Why would it happen so suddenly and now of all times...until it suddenly hits her. The cause and it’s solution has been right in front of them this whole time and she whips her head towards the group of paladins to her right and just stares at them, eyes wide in amazement and her mouth hanging open slightly, wanting to speak, to voice her realization, but she’s so shocked by it that she can’t get a single word out...and yet, there something in her eyes that shows not just surprise, but awe and a giddy sort of acceptance.

So, just as Lance is about to sprint to his lion to find Keith (I’ll take Red to get him, she’s the fastest. She might even still be linked to Keith, if anyone can find him, it’s her), he feels someone grab his arm. He turns back to find Allura, who had pushed her way through the other’s to grab him with this determined look on her face. As Lance starts to question her, she yanks him back through the others (with much flailing and squawking), past Shiro who is still standing rooted and dazed, and over towards the black lion’s barrier. As Lance tries once again to ask her what’s going on, why she’s manhandling him (while making a joke that he’s not objecting exactly but…), Allura doesn’t say a thing as she grabs his hand and forcefully places it against the barrier…

...and it just drops, instantly, with only a soft growl coming from the black lion.

Needless to say everyone is stunned, Lance more than anyone else, and the rest of the team, including Shiro now, is just looking at him, eyes wide and jaws practically touching the floor. The only one who doesn’t seem fazed at all is Allura, who turns to Lance with this small smile and this look of calm approval. Lance is the first to speak, and he tries to crack a smile and put on his devil-may-care persona, but it’s broken and shaky at best and all he can manage to respond with is something like “you’re joking right?” or even something self-deprecating like “wow we must really be desperate, huh?” in this watery, uncertain voice. Allura would sigh, because she should have seen this coming, she had come to know the real Lance after all and that, of all of his critics, Lance was the biggest of them all. No one disliked Lance more than Lance, but she had hoped this would be his eye opener. So, if he wasn’t going to believe in himself, she was going to have to do it for him.

She let’s go of his hand so that she can place both of hers on his shoulders (or something comforting and supportive like that, I didn’t think about these finer details), looks him in the eye and proceeds to give him this speech about how he believed and supported her when she couldn’t. How she’s watched him grow from when they first met and been able to see him for who he really is. Not the goofy, over-confidant flirt he portrays himself as, but the brave hero who took an explosion for a man he just met without a single complaint or brag, who values his friend’s and family’s safety and happiness far higher than his own, who always manages to retain who is, even in the midst of a war, so that when push comes to shove he is able to make the choice that is right, not just the one that is necessary.

By this point Lance is teary-eyed, and Hunk and Pidge, who had been stuttering through their own concerns about all this, seem to have come to agree whole-heartedly. (Meanwhile, Coran isn’t fazed at all. He looks proud because he had been expecting this outcome for quite some time…). Allura finally drops her serious expression, this soft smile playing at the edges, as she recites what she had told them about the lions: “the black lion can only be piloted by a person who is a natural leader, calm and collected in the face of danger.” “You’ve shown us you possess these qualities again and again, we’re just sorry we didn’t notice them before.”

Naturally Lance is touched, but he’d still fight it. Like I said, nobody dislikes Lance more than Lance, so of course he’d be full of doubts and try and deny everything, “I’m not worthy, I’m not a leader, I’m not Shiro” etcetera. Or he might not even be able to say anything, just give this doubtful sigh and manage to get out an “Allura…” before she jumps back in, cutting him off. Telling him that the reason the black lion rejected Shiro and chose him was because when Shiro had refused to listen to his team, he had stopped being a leader to them. A leader is someone who guides others, not dictates, and when he shut them out before, he had forfeited that title. The black lion had seen this, but she had also seen Lance take into account what his team was saying, hearing them out and standing by them, and finally taking a stand against Shiro, the man he admired most, and determinedly told him no, for the sake of his team. “A natural leader” “Calm and collected in the face of danger” all the qualities of the black paladin and, in the eyes of the black lion, Lance was perfect for the role.

Lance is stunned and nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand clamps down on his shoulder and turns to find Shiro, his expression proud and sad and accepting. “You told Keith when the black lion chose him that the it wouldn’t choose anyone who wasn’t worthy, that that we should accept that choice. Well, we accept it. This team needs you, Lance, We’ve always needed you.” (Or something like that. I’m not sure if Shiro or Allura would be the one saying this, maybe even Coran or Hunk, but either works.) With those reassurances, Lance heaves a sigh, a small, genuine smile on his face before he takes up the mantle, still with doubts, but he’s willing to go above and beyond for his weird space family, even through his own insecurities.

(Side headcanon to this: As Hunk is asking what they do about the red lion, he get’s cut off halfway by a loud roar and the alarms going off. Coran checks it out and shouts out frantically that the red lion has just left the castle. As Pidge is screaming about what the hell else could go wrong, Lance just starts laughing, loud and genuine, saying that she’ll be back, that he’s not the only one this team has always needed.)

(you kno what,fuck it, i’m just going to suck it up, reach deep for any smidgen of writing talent i probably don’t have and just write the damn thing. Would probably have been WAY easier than trying to shorten it like this! Fuck it! If anyone else wants to go somewhere with this, by all means, just link the post with it and send it to me so i can read it!

I also half-assed the shit out the last half cuz i just wanted to finish it, so...sorry about that)

[kazjaurelia]

‘Cause I Love the Adrenaline in My Veins

This is based partially on this post by @illesty

The team was on what was supposed to be a simple mission. And, of course, something goes wrong. When a Galra aligned combat group attacks a peace ceremony, team Voltron leaps into action to save the day. And maybe, Lance just happens to accidentally get hurt.

Happy Birthday to my favorite, @butletmeexplainyouathing.

Words: 1639

It was supposed to be a simple mission. A peaceful mission. Fly down to the planet in Black, aid in peace talks between two feuding tribes, and return to the castle for a debrief and training. Piece of cake.

Not. To Lance, it always seemed to be the “easy” missions that went south. Easy missions had plans that were simple. They had a set process. Step one, step two, step three, tie it all up in a bow, and mission accomplished. And yet, they still seemed to go wrong in some way.

This time, it wasn't Lance's fault. It really wasn't. They’d managed to almost come to an even peace between the tribes. The last step was the emergence ceremony, as the natives had called it. A ceremony to symbolize the emergence of a new peaceful era. The chiefs performed the ritual to demonstrate to the people that any contention between the tribes was over. Both women were swiftly moving through the motions, seeming to play off of one another.

On the stage behind and to the side of the chiefs, Lance was struggling to remain still after what seemed like vargas. The semi-formal armour that Allura had produced for the event was beginning to feel more and more confining around Lance’s neck. Who knew? Maybe the suit was haunted by some ancient space ghost and was trying to exact its revenge by strangling the paladin. The suits, of course, hadn’t been used in 10,000 years, which was blaringly obvious by the rigidness of the material. It’s almost as if the suits are made of cardboard. Judging by the squirming that Keith is doing next to Lance, he feels the same. He is glad, however, that Allura allowed them to bring their bayards.

The ceremony seemed to be approaching the ending, both women becoming increasingly intertwined in every move. Every step takes them closer to the illuminated hearth to the anterior of the stage. The chiefs gracefully tiptoe into the flames now, seemingly impervious to the heat. Must be some mystical bond thing, Lance concludes to himself. It almost reminds him of the fusion dance from Dragon Ball Z.

As the chiefs bring their foreheads together, a blast rings out through the outdoor amphitheatre. Cries of pain echo out, weaving and intertwining in the smoke. Lance, knocked to his knees in the moment of the blast, makes a move to stand up, to help. A quick glance shows him that the other paladins are rising to do the same. The stage gives a groan and a tremor as the paladins gather close. Shiro is the first to speak.

“We need to make a plan, alright? I’ll check on the chiefs, the rest of you stay alert and try to help the villagers. Who ever set off the bomb, might not be done yet.”

And with that, the team breaks up, all pulling out their bayards and moving out into the raze amphitheatre.His bayard morphs into the gun, ready to fire, should it be needed. Lance moves towards a crying child, clinging to the body of what must be their parent. He opens his mouth to ask if the villagers have set up a meeting area to regroup, when the shots start flying. He’s charging forward, scooping the child into his arms and ducking behind a chunk of the barrier wall before he can really think about anything other than ‘Stay alive, keep the kid alive.’

The kid seems to be fine, though. A little shaken and dirty from the initial attack, but otherwise unharmed. However, the kid did not want to quiet down, the crying picking up in volume.

“Is everyone alright?” Lance startles, Shiro’s calm, commanding voice a sharp contrast from the shouting and gunfire surrounding Lance.

“I’m alright, I’ve got a kid with me.” He peaks out from behind the cover before ducking back down as the shots start flying again. Lance turns back in, curling protectively around the kid in an attempt to quell their sobbing. “Is there anywhere safe I can take the kid?”

“The chiefs have set up some kind of triage center a few buildings from behind the stage.”

“Do we know who’s attacking us, yet?” Keith asks, sounds of fighting leaking through from his end.

“No clue. I don’t have anything about them on my records.” Pidge’s voice cuts in.

Lance tunes them out momentarily as he makes a plan to move for the stage. It shouldn’t be that hard. Duck and run, disarm a few of the attackers, and keep him and the kid alive. Shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

He pulls out from his cover, only enough to efficiently aim and dispatch the shooters. Pulling the kid tighter into his arms, he turns and dashes for the next sizable piece of rubble. He can see one of the tribe members anxiously scanning the debris field, all while trying to remain hidden only fifty feet away. They may be able to get the child to safety. Lance makes a break for it, gun firing the whole time. Finally, Lance is greeted by what he assumes is the child’s other parent, seeing as the child leaped into their arms without hesitation. Now, he has to get back to the fight.

From what he could see, Pidge was taking down shooters while also figuring out who they were and how they were moving. Hunk was aiding in evacuation as well as fighting. Keith and Shiro were doing much the same, fighting and helping people when needed.

Lance runs back into the right, dodging and firing nearly simultaneously. He’s almost reached another group when the second bomb goes off. He’s diving for cover before he can think. He covers his head with his arms, attempting to curl into himself, to be smaller while the debris and dirt rains down from above. It’s only a moment before he’s back up again, dusting off his armor and firing off shots.

It all became a blur. Duck. Aim. Shoot. The sound of gunfire filled the air, as well as a thick smoke. It seemed to slither through the air, mocking the combatants as they found their field of vision nearly non-existent.

Maybe if Lance could get to a  higher spot, he could see better. Offering better support from above would allow the others to get the rest of the tribe to safety and stop the attack. He crouches low behind another piece of the ruined barrier wall, scouting out a tall building on the edge of the amphitheatre. Even if he could get just a little higher.

He scans the area, only seeing a couple lookouts posted. Alright, shouldn’t be that hard. Take out the sentries and climb the building like in Assassin’s Creed. He spins out, pivoting and aiming to take down both of the lookouts. They drop without a sound.

It’s not hard to climb up the building, there are plenty of handholds and even a gentle slope. Lance settles onto the edge of the roof, panning the barrel of the gun over his sight of the battlefield. The fight seemed to be coming to an end. No civilians were left out on the field, and the rest of the paladins had it pretty much covered, only needing Lance’s cover every here and there.

As the battle drew to a close, Shiro called for a regroup. Once the final check through was done, ensuring that no other combatants were left free on the field, the team was to head to the triage center a small ways from the scene of carnage. Lance shimmied his way down the side of the building, scanning as he went. The battle was truly over, the dust finally settling from the two bombs as he made his way to the rendezvous. Now, he could see the entirety of the damage. The stage, which had been intact after the first explosion, lay decrepit and listing to the side with portions caved in. The standing area for the audience was peppered with craters. From what, Lance couldn’t determine. Many of the buildings in the surrounding area had sustained damage. Some had broken windows. Others had as much as a hole covering many floors.

He could see the see the hustle and bustle of the triage ahead of him. The healers racing from bed to bed to help any way they could. Children were crying on the other side. A quick look showed Lance the kid he had saved wrapped tightly around the neck of his mother.

He walked faster. Now that the fight was over, he could feel the adrenaline wearing off, all the aches and pains making themselves known. The sharpest seemed to be just above his right hip. Huh, maybe he landed a little wrong when he grabbed the kid. He tries to just shrug it off, thinking it’s just a bruise or something, but the pain only increases as he walks.

The rest of the team was already gathered with the chiefs in some sort of command tent in the center of the triage. They were just waiting on Lance before they started to debrief. Only, Lance seemed to be taking awhile to get there.

Keith groans. “What’s taking him so long? He should be here by now.”

Just as Shiro opened his mouth to reply, the flap to the tent was opened, revealing a very dusty and bloody Lance. He took a small step forward, his right hand clutching the area just above his hip. His hand is covered in blood. “Lance?”

Lance gives a small smirk, or maybe it was a grimace. “Hey guys. I think I have a bit of a problem.” And with that, his eyes roll into the back of his head as his body goes limp and drops to the ground.

[machihunnicutt]

Fic-vember Day 2

I’m back y’all. Reminder that if you send me an idea for a oneshot it will be my day 3 post. Here’s chapter 2 of the fic from yesterday:

Bubble Tea and Feelings (vld klance fic)

Chapter 2: and Feelings

(Or read on ao3.)

"Shiro you're not taking this seriously," Keith said with venom.

He held up two different shirts for Shiro to look at through the screen. He and Matt were in a tent on a mountain somewhere but Keith didn't have any other friends to consult.

"Keith, they both look good. It's going to be fine no matter what you wear."

Matt poked his head in the tent. "Is this the date with Lance? Holy shit I didn't believe it when Pidge told me this is too good."

Shiro shushed him and Keith buried his head in his hands.  "Ignore him. Lance is a good guy. You're going to be fine."

"Shiro when was the last time I went on a date?"

"Um...not since high school right?"

He winced. "Yeah, not since sophomore year." He'd been too busy studying his ass off every minute since.

"Keith, relax. He likes you," Matt said from off screen.

"He what? Has he talked about me?" Keith felt his face go red. Shiro grinned at him before pulling his boyfriend into the frame.

Matt cackled. "Pidge is an excellent informant. It's going to be fine Keith. And wear the shirt on the right."

Shiro was like a brother to him. He was the first person he trusted. Shiro taught him that he didn't have to be alone.

"I'm being dumb right?" He asked in a small voice.

Shiro's gaze softened. "You're not being dumb. It's okay to be nervous about it. I was scared out of my mind when Matt asked me out the first time."

"You were?" Matt Holt's mess of hair tilted back into view.

"Are you kidding? Of course I was. You didn't notice how sweaty my hands were the whole time?"

"You think I noticed how sweaty your hands were when my hands were actually liquid?"

"Oh c'mon, it's not like I noticed that."

"Babe, you're actually changing the way I tell my 'how I met the love of my life' story."

"I'm the love of your life?" Shiro was blushing on the screen.

"Alright, so I've had enough of your romantic nonsense for tonight. Thanks."

Shiro smiled at him. He really missed him. "It'll be okay Keith. Trust me."

***

Pidge was on their break when Lance got the call. It was a slow morning. Lance had spent the majority of it staring out the window and thinking up endless ways this date could go wrong. The sharp ring of the phone didn't do much for his nerves.

"Hello, you've reached Holt Teahouse. This is Lance speaking."

"Oh, hello. I'm looking for Pidge Holt?" The voice was accented and hesitant.

"They aren't here right now sorry. I can take a message? Or you could call back in like 20 minutes. They'll be back from their break then."

"Thank you...um did you say this number is for a teahouse? I'm just a tad confused. I'm Pidge's advisor at the Garrison next year. They haven't been responding to my emails so I looked up the phone number on file and..."

"You're from the Garrison? Oh no it's all good. Pidge's family owns the tea house and they don't have a home phone so Pidge probably put this number figuring someone in their family would always be here." He laughed. It was a very Pidge thing to do.

"I see, so you know Pidge? I'm Allura. I graduated from the Garrison three years ago and now I work as an academic adviser. I hoped I'd get a chance to talk with them about their schedule and future academic goals before they arrived on campus."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to do that. Between you and me..." Lance lowered his voice in case Pidge happened to come back early. "I think Pidge is a little nervous about coming to the Garrison. They got picked on in middle school and their whole family has a history at the Garrison: Pidge's parents, their brother Matt, Shiro..."

"Pidge is related to Takashi Shirogone?" Allura actually squeaked. "He's quite honestly a legend."

Lance smirked. He knew Shiro was popular in high school...I mean, about as popular as a giant nerd could be. He was the captain of Science Olympiad and Matt's right hand at the helm of the national championship finalist Robotics team. He also played lacrosse and ran track and managed to take an actual record number of AP tests (scoring almost entirely 5s of course). Apparently his shadow still loomed.

"Well they aren't related by blood but Shiro's basically family. And I mean...if he marries Matt he actually will be family."

"You have a treasure trove of interesting information Lance," Allura said, sounding positively stunned. Lance thought maybe he'd said too much. He'd deny it if prompted but he loved bragging about his friends, even when it bordered on gossip.

The back door creaked open and Pidge came in, holding a container of French fries and looking a little pissed off. "Apparently I no longer look young enough to buy Happy Meals without being judged and questioned," they began before Lance interrupted.

"Hey gremlin, you've got a phone call. It's your Garrison adviser. Here they are Allura." Pidge instantly paled and reluctantly traded Lance for the phone. They took it into the bathroom and shut the door.

Lance was back to daydreaming by the time Pidge reappeared. They clicked the phone back into its dock with irritation and hopped up onto their usual stool.

"What was that all about?" Lance asked cautiously.

Pidge shook their head. "It's nothing she just wanted to talk about the Garrison. Move in day and what to expect and all that."

"Okay that sounds good. Why do you seem so angry?"

Pidge whipped their head up and glared. "I'm not perfect like Matt or Shiro. You know that right?"

"Pidge..."

They shook their head aggressively, arms crossed tightly over their chest and eyes lowered. Lance remembered seeing them with a similar expression the day of their middle school graduation. Lance had knocked on their bedroom door and fiddled when his tie.

"You okay?" He remembered saying. "Your dad wants us to go soon."

Pidge straightened the collar of their button down and gritted their teeth. "Let's just get this over with," they had said.

"What are you talking about?" Lance had replied. "It's gonna be great. You're going to high school. High school's like...way better than middle school. And like," he had stopped, feeling kind of dorky. "It's kind of rewarding walking across that stage. Even if it's not a real diploma."

Pidge's expression had lightened. "Alright. I trust you Lance. It you say it's going to be great then I guess it's going to be great," they smiled. Lance wished he could make Pidge smile like that again.

"No you don't get it," Pidge said, picking at the last of their fries and refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not good enough. I'm just going to be made fun of and compared and probably misgendered too but that's a whole different can of worms."

"Slow down..."

"How am I supposed to be excited like everyone wants me to be when all I can think about is how I'm going to let everyone down and..."

"Pidge, stop."

Pidge blinked back their tears and Lance bridged the gap between them to give them a tight hug.

"You're not going to let anyone down. You're so much just by being yourself."

"You don't have to say that just because I'm crying."

"I'm not. You know I'm not."

"Well anyway. We should get back to work." They wiped their face with a napkin self-consciously. "I'm sorry I had a meltdown."

"It's only natural to be worried Pidge. That doesn't mean it's not all going to be okay."

"Thanks Lance."

"Any time Pidge."

He thought then that he should tell Pidge that they were his best friend. It wasn't something he'd said aloud. He didn't want to put too much pressure on them, especially since they were leaving for school soon. No matter what people told him Lance always felt like he was kind of a nuisance.

"Hey don't you have that date tonight?"

"And don't you have a phone call with Five or whatever his fictional name is?"

"His name is Seven and you should address him as Hacker God. Honestly though Lance please download Mystic Messenger. I need someone to scream about it with and Matt won't do it."

"Oh so I'm not even your first choice huh?"

***

Keith paced anxiously in his living room and shoved his hands in his pockets as if the answers were in there somewhere. They weren't. Lance would arrive any minute.

He ran through the same imaginary conversations he'd been having in his head since this morning. Imaginary conversations were enough to make his palms sweat tonight. Somehow he always ended up sounding stupid.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey," Lance smiled an easy smile that made Keith fractionally less nervous. "You look nice."

"Thanks...I um, you look nicer." It was odd seeing him outside of the apron, in a shirt with a collar even. The sleeves of his blue button up were rolled to his elbows and his jeans were worn thin at the knees and cuffed in a way that highlighted his converse. He was just the right amount of dressed up and down that put Keith at ease.

"I thought maybe we could grab some pizza? My friend is the chef at this place near by that's really good. I mean I don't know if you're in the mood for pizza. Or if you like pizza. I guess there are people who don't like pizza right? Or they can't eat it for some reason..."

"I'm good with pizza."

The restaurant was warmly lit and smelled like fresh garlic and tomatoes when they got near the kitchen. The hostess recognized Lance and eagerly led the two of them to a booth.

"I'll tell him you're here," she said.

"Thanks Shay. I appreciate it."

Lance looked at home in the plush booth. He leaned his elbows on the table and slid a menu in Keith's direction.

"Your pick. Unless you want a salad or something. Or you're heathen who likes pineapple on their pizza."

Keith could feel his face heating up so he looked down.

"Oh shit, you are aren't you? I didn't mean it man." He looked nervously wide eyed for a second before Keith laughed.

"My go to is pineapple, yes. I already knew I was a heathen though." Lance grinned at him and Keith felt warm again. "I'm not picky. I'm fine with anything," he amended.

"I'd say. You've ordered just about everything on the Holt Teahouse menu."

“Yeah, well whose fault is that?”

Lance leaned forward on the table, elbows encroaching on Keith’s space and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin. “I’m still finding it hard to believe that you bought all that boba just so you could see me. No one really...I mean I guess I’m usually the one who makes the move.” He was looking him straight in the eye, honest, as the last traces of his teasing tone dissipated. Keith could see the freckles on his nose. They were probably from the sun. Lance looked like he belonged in the sun.

Keith hadn’t been on a date in years for several reasons: 1) There wasn’t really the time. He never went out because he needed all the studying time he could get. Even when he didn’t need to be studying he invented something to study for to dodge Shiro’s invitations. Studying easily became a cover for the fact that he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Shiro said he didn’t have a good work and free time balance . 2) He was bad at reading people. As Lance leaned forward he tried to deconstruct everything that had happened in the 20 minutes they’d been out and figure out whether or not he was making a complete fool of himself yet. And 3) Keith wasn’t sure he was a person worth dating.

So it was odd to be faced with the same brand of nervous insecurity that he felt 95% of the time. Especially when it came from someone who seemed a lot more in control than he was.

“Lance, I…”

“Hey Lance, how’s the teahouse?” They were interrupted by a man with an apron who looked like he was made of sunshine and Keith quietly shrunk.

“It’s great Hunk, you should stop by sometime. I can get you a discount.” Lance winked exaggeratedly.

Hunk laughed. “I might take you up on that. I’m sorry for intruding though.”

“Oh, right, Hunk this is Keith. Keith this is my friend Hunk.”

They exchanged pleasantries and Hunk took their order while he was there, promising that the food would be out quickly.

“Your friends seem really nice,” Keith said, once he’d gone. Pidge too, had seemed like someone worth getting to know.

“My friends are awesome,” Lance said with a grin. “The best part of spending the summers here is that I get to see everyone. It’s funny, because when I get back to campus all I can draw is the teahouse and Pidge and Hunk and Matt. All my inspiration is here.” He leaned in again. “But don’t tell them I said that. It’ll go to their heads.”

The pizza came and Keith convinced Lance to try a piece with pineapple, which he begrudgingly admitted wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Lance showed him some of the art he had pictures of on his phone and Keith laughed at the absurd joy in the eyes of the Holt siblings who he’d drawn pouring intensely over a game of Yahtzee. The pieces in color were vibrant and larger than life: the sunset bleeding into the forms of his friends along the horizon, a cup of bubble tea with miniature mermaids in teals and purples swimming among the boba that looked more like pearls, a lion done entirely in blues yawning lazily like a house cat. Keith groped for the words to compliment him, but he was never very artistically minded and everything he said didn’t feel quite right. Lance’s work was beautiful but it was more than that. He , was more than that.

“Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Lance asked carefully after they’d paid. “If you’re too tired I totally understand I’m just having a nice time so…”

“I’m having a nice time too. Ice cream would be great.”

It was only a couple blocks to the nearest ice cream place. They walked slowly, and when Keith got too nervous to look at Lance he looked up at the stars instead. And it was nice. It was nice and easier than he thought it’d be.

“Shiro’s kind of right about me being a hermit,” he muttered after they’d ordered (cookies and cream for Keith, peanut butter chocolate for Lance.) “It’s my fault I didn’t meet Matt or Pidge or you sooner. I kind of...close myself off sometimes.”

“Well you’re studying right? No one can blame you for having a lot of work to do. That’s why you’re here,” Lance said gently. His ice cream was melting off the cone and he turned his head to the side to chase the mess of chocolate before it got to his hand.

“Yeah, you’re right I just...nevermind, this is probably too much to get into when we hardly know each other.”

“Dude, you can’t just say that and not finish your thought. Also, we’ve known each other all summer technically.”

Keith laughed and stole a glance at him. His eyebrows were furrowed as if in preparation to think very hard about whatever Keith was going to say next. Keith looked back up at the deep blue of the sky.

“I think I use school as an excuse a lot of the time. I think it’s just easier to make myself too busy for other people so I don’t have to worry about letting them in and letting them hurt me.”

“You think people are going to hurt you?”

“Not right away maybe but…”

“Eventually? Do you think I’m going to hurt you eventually?” He stopped. “Assuming there’s an eventually I guess.”

Keith shook his head aggressively. “No, maybe. It’s just scary to risk it. It’s easy to be alone.”

Lance considered this for a moment. The silence hung while Keith questioned every stupid, overly personal thing he’d just revealed about himself in the past 30 seconds.

“I think it’s worth it though,” he said at last. “To let people in. I think that even if you get hurt you get happiness and love and people to talk to, you know?”

“I’m trying...I’m trying to know.” Keith laughed. “That sounds so stupid but it’s all I’ve got.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.”

“No, I mean it. It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” Lance hesitated. “Could I maybe draw you really quickly?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook and stub of a pencil.

“Me?” Keith felt his face go red. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I want to remember this conversation.”

“Okay.” He looked over at him and saw that his hands were already moving, face scrunched up in concentration as he drew.

Keith listened to cars go by and bugs making noises and the faint echo of the radio from inside the ice cream shop and then Lance started talking, eyes still focused on his drawing. “I think I have the opposite problem. I get so attached to people that I start to worry.”

“About what?”

He stopped and looked up at him for a second. “I don’t think people like me as much as I like them. Sometimes I feel kind of useless.”

Keith couldn’t imagine why someone like Lance would feel useless.

"From what I've seen it seems like there isn't anyone who doesn't think you're great." He tripped over the double negative but recovered. "Everyone likes you...myself included."

Lance smiled and it wasn’t the unrestrained grin from earlier. It was small and hopeful and a little insecure.

“Thanks Keith.”

***

“If I commission you will you draw me Seven?” Pidge was balancing on the stool by the outlet again, scrolling through something on their phone.

“Seven what?” Lance asked distractedly, he was focusing on not spilling tea everywhere.

“Seven the character from Mystic Messenger,” Pidge said exasperatedly. “I know you don’t care now that you have a boyfriend and all but this is important so…”

“Keith’s not my boyfriend. We went on one date.”

“Yeah whatever. You’re gonna get a boyfriend and stop hanging out with me and I’ll have to be fine with it because I can’t get mad at some guy who gets you excited enough to call me at 1 a.m.”

Lance swatted them with his free hand. He had called Pidge at one last night to recount all the details of the date. He’d intended to wait until morning but he couldn’t sleep. And thanks to that stupid game they’d been up anyway.

“I’m not even. I wouldn’t just stop hanging out with my best friend.”

Pidge tilted on the stool and set their phone down. “I’m really your best friend?”

Lance frowned. “Yeah, of course you are.” It was something he should've said a long time ago, but apparently this was the summer of laying feelings directly on the table. Their age difference had always made their friendship a little odd. Pidge would complain about middle school while he tried to assure them that high school was better and when they ran into Lance’s or Pidge’s other friends at the movie theater they often thought it was a babysitting situation. But it never mattered to Lance.

“You’re my best friend too,” they said, adjusting their glasses.

He set down the pitcher of tea. “Look, I know you’re worried about high school and fitting in and Matt being the golden child and all that but I think you’re forgetting that you’re the most badass person I know.”

Pidge scoffed.

“No seriously, you’re just unapologetically yourself and that’s so brave and so rare. You’re ahead of the curve. Everyone else will catch on eventually.”

“And then I can be their god?” Pidge laughed sardonically.

“Sure, you can be their god you weirdo.”

They hugged their knees to their chest atop the stool. “You really think it’ll be alright? Allura was nice and all but every time she calls about advising stuff I just freak out.”

“It’ll be alright. I promise. And I’m just a phone call away.”

As if on cue the teahouse phone rang. Lance glanced at it knowingly and Pidge answered it. “Holt Teahouse this is Pidge. Oh hi Allura. Yeah, I have a minute.” They made their way to the bathroom, giving Lance a small salute.

Three hours later, after a slow day of limited sales, Lance was nearly dozing off at the ordering window. Pidge was looking through the high school course catalog with more interest than before. He jumped when he heard him.

“Hey Lance.” Keith was right in front of him, leaning his elbows on the counter. He had a huge smile plastered on his face and he wasn’t alone.

“Jesus Christ asshole when did you get back?” Pidge burst forth, jumping out of their seat and leaning through the open window to hug their brother.

“Whoa, language,” he laughed. “We just got back an hour ago. It was a nonstop flight.”

“Surprise,” Shiro said, slinging an arm over Keith’s shoulder. “I hear you two have met?” He said, gesturing between Keith and Lance.

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I think we’re going to get to know each other a lot better too.”

Lance felt dizzy with happiness even when Pidge started teasing him and Shiro tousled Keith’s hair and the five of them ended up in a smooshed group hug that ended quickly but felt like it lasted all the way through Shiro’s recounting of their trip (punctuated by Matt reenacting the most dramatic moments) and Pidge explaining the entire plot of Mystic Messenger to Keith who listened patiently and interjected with questions of his own and it didn’t leave until he was in bed that night, staring up at his ceiling and listening to his own heartbeat. His phone pinged and he stared at the glow of the message in the dark.

Keith: See you tomorrow. :)

There was still plenty of summer left. Even when it was over they’d be okay. It would all be okay.

[littlemisswolfie]

Day 5: Time

AO3

When Pidge managed to set up an Earth clock in her room and sync it to the timezone her parents lived in, she was mostly expecting to use it to alleviate homesickness. She would look at it every once in a while and imagine what her parents and Matt were doing. What were they having for dinner? Was Matt working hard at the Garrison? That sort of stuff.

She didn’t expect to use it to tell the passage of time for herself.

She and Ezor were in her room while she cleaned up after working in her garden. Ezor reminded her a lot of Lance, and she felt closer to her than to Lotor’s other generals, so she wasn’t really shy about washing in front of her. Pidge lifted her face from the washbasin and caught sight of the clock in her vanity mirror. Then, eyes squinting, she turned to look at it sos the numbers and letters made sense.

[April 1, 20XX. 14:55:07]

“Huh,” she said, mostly to herself. “My birthday’s coming up.”

“Birthday?” Ezor asked, cocking her head a little to the side.

“Oh, it’s an Earth thing. We make records of the date of our birth and celebrate it every year. I’ll be turning twenty in two Earth days.”

“Does that have any significance in your culture?”

Pidge shook her head. “Twenty isn’t really a big milestone. I’ve been considered an adult in my culture for almost two years already, and the next big milestone is twenty-one, when I’d be allowed to drink alcohol. Birthdays are just a cause for celebration in general.” She found herself sitting on her bed next to Ezor while she spoke. “The friends and family of the person whose birthday it is will throw a party and give them presents. There’s usually a cake with the age of the person equalling the number of candles on top. Then the birthday person makes a wish and if they blow all the candles out in one breath, their wish is supposed to come true.”

Ezor clapped, a grin on her face. “That sounds fun! We should tell King Lotor! We haven’t had a party in ages.”

Pidge felt her cheeks heat up. “I can’t ask him to throw me a birthday party! That’s not how it works!”

“Why not?”

“It’s impolite to ask for a party to be thrown in your favor. It has to be done without you requesting it.”

Ezor did the alien equivalent of blowing a raspberry. “Humans are so complicated. Is it okay if I tell him, then?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

X

Pidge largely forgot about her conversation with Ezor since neither she nor Lotor brought the topic up. She shrugged it off, figuring the Galran culture simply had no room for birthday celebrations.

She’d never been so wrong.

When she woke up the day of her birthday, Lotor, already dressed for the day, presented her with a bouquet of—

“Daisies?” she asked, snatching the bouquet out of his hands to inspect the flowers. “How did you get daisies out here?”

He winked. “That’s part of the surprise, my love. Get dressed quickly and we can move on to the next part.”

Pidge gently set the bouquet down on the bed and dashed to her room to dress. Lotor met her back outside her room when she was done, and he easily slipped his hand into hers to lead her down the large stairs and to the dining room. Her skirt swished against her legs with every step she took. She’d found herself wearing more and more dresses unless she was working in the garden lately; Lotor never asked her to, but she saw how much he liked it when she did.

He pushed the button to slide the dining room door open, and Pidge was treated to the sight of her parents, Matt, and all of Team Voltron sitting around the table, talking and laughing. They all looked up when they heard the door open, and the grins that overtook each of their faces made Pidge’s heart swell.

Lotor pulled his hand out of hers and moved it to the small of her back, giving her a light push. “Go see your friends,” he said.

She smiled brightly at him and, on impulse, rocked onto her toes to give him a lightning-fast kiss on the cheek before rushing to the table.

X

After a loud, rowdy breakfast, during which a food fight almost broke out, Pidge and Lotor showed her friends and family around the castle. The Paladins crowded around Pidge as much as they could, brushing against her and bumping their shoulders together, and Pidge felt a swell of affection for her pseudo-adopted brothers. She could tell they’d worried about her here by herself, and she was determined to show them how well she was being treated.

Hunk was especially excited to see her tinkering lab, where she’d come up with a new kind of sentry bot with enhanced armor and aiming abilities. “Meet Rover the fourth!” she said proudly as she booted it up. It was just as tall as the original sentries, but more humanoid in the fluidity of its movements. “It can detect heat signatures as well as motion, and it’s heavy enough to make it hard to move and force open doors like we used to do.”

Lotor did a double take. “That’s how you used to get into our bases?”

“If we didn’t have Keith with us, yeah.” She turned back to address her friend group. “We haven’t tested them out for combat quite yet. Any takers?”

It had been almost a year since any of them had to engage in combat. Despite this, Keith, Shiro, Hunk, and Lance all individually beat a separate Rover IV with ease. They laughed and shoved each other after each match, and Pidge found herself joining in instead of being irritated at how much work she still had to do on the sentry. It felt… right.

X

Lotor had to do some work after lunch, so Pidge changed into some shorts and took her family and friends to her garden so they could chat while she worked. “It’s weird to see you voluntarily interacting with plants,” Keith joked. “I remember you griping about going to Olkarion all those years ago.”

“It’s actually really relaxing. Lotor comes to watch me garden sometimes, too. He says it helps him unwind between all the paperwork he has to do.”

“Speaking of Lotor…” Lance said, sliding in with a stupid grin on his face. “How’s the sex?”

At least five different people snapped “Lance!” at varying volumes and degrees of irritation. Pidge just winked and said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” It was none of Lance’s business that they’d only gone as far as cuddling, but there was no harm in messing with his head.

She looked over her shoulder to see her parents, Matt, and Shiro all looking superbly uncomfortable at the idea of her having sex. “I’m a twenty year old married woman, guys,” she said, making them all flush. “You don’t need to act like I’m a kid.”

Her mother forced a little smile. “It’s just what parents do, honey.”

X

After that uncomfortable episode in the garden, Lotor whisked them all off to do some shopping in the capital. When he was informed of the name of the city, Lance sniggered, and Pidge punched him.

Lotor payed for all the party’s purchases, waving her parents’ and Hunk’s protests off with a “You’re here as part of Katelyn’s present. I’d never make you pay for anything.”

When they were done shopping, Pidge and Lotor escorted them all to the rooms they were staying in to store them with the rest of their luggage. Then Lotor brought them all back down to the dining room, where a delectable looking feast was spread out on the table for dinner. Somehow, it tasted just like a chicken dinner, with aromas to match. Pidge wasn’t quite sure how the chefs managed it, but with the way Hunk was grinning, she was sure he had something to do with it, which begged the question of just how long they’d all been here without her knowing.

Hunk disappeared into the kitchen when the feast had been ravaged and returned with a two-tiered cake with twenty unlit candles sticking out of the chocolate frosting. That was it. “How long have you jerks been here?” she demanded, though the grin on her face belied her joy.

Shiro bumped her shoulder with his. “We just got in yesterday. Ezor and Acxa took hiding us from you very seriously.”

Keith (because of course it had to be Keith) produced a box of matches to light the candles, and Lotor clapped so the lights would dim. He stood behind her, his warm, familiar hands coming to rest on his shoulder, and he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. “Make a wish, Katelyn.”

She closed her eyes and blew.

X

After Lotor and Pidge returned her friends and family to their rooms, they walked hand-in-hand back to Lotor’s room. Pidge had begun keeping some of her pajamas in his room for convenience, so they changed together. Instead of crawling right into bed, however, Lotor pulled Pidge over to the secluded seating area right next to his large window, overlooking a beautiful cliff. “What was your wish?” he asked her.

“Well, I can’t tell you,” Pidge teased. “If you tell anyone what you wished for, it won’t come true.”

“What if I could help you fulfill your wish?” He was leaning in closer now, one hand cupping her cheek.

“Maybe you could.”

“Katelyn, may I—”

Before he could finish his question, she pounced, snaking her arms around his neck and tugging his lips to hers.