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a-chip-in-inosukes-nichirin · 10 months ago

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Blooming in My Chest

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Rating: Mature

Genre: Angst, Tragedy

Pairings: One-Sided Pidge/Lance, Lance/Allura

Tags: Sad Ending, Character Death, Hanahaki AU, Death, Self-Sacrifice, Post Season 8, Body Horror, Blood, One-Sided Plance, Pining, Death Fic, Suicide by Silence

Wordcount: 4.1k

Pidge has managed to quell her feelings for a while, but seeing Lance again stirs up old feelings. He still misses Allura, but Pidge loves him. She tries to hide the fact that she's dying, her chest filled with flowers, but fate has other ideas.

Cross-posted from my AO3 account.

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Pidge couldn’t say exactly when it started. Maybe it was when they were digging through the fountain at the space mall for GAC to buy the videogame system. Maybe it was when he blocked her from an explosion during a mission. Maybe it was on one of their many nights staying up late gaming and talking trash. But at some point, she started feeling light when he was nearby. Pidge brushed it off, thinking it was nothing. She watched as he flirted with alien girls and rolled her eyes, feeling a slight pain in her chest.

It wasn’t a big deal.

The first blow was when he and Allura started dating. Pidge smiled and congratulated them, but her chest was tight. She couldn’t find it in her to hate either of them. After all, Allura deserved happiness after everything that had happened. And Lance… he seemed happy too. Pidge put her jealousy to rest and forced her feelings down. Each time she saw them together, a cough tickled her throat, but nothing happened.

She crushed her feelings enough to enjoy her day out with Romelle and Allura shopping. The highlight of her day, finding Killbot Phantasm, was quickly blotted out as she traded the game for Allura’s clothes for her date with Lance.

It doesn’t matter, she thought to herself, It’s just a stupid game. Not like I’ll have anyone to play it with anyway…

And then Allura was gone. Everyone was thrust into a dark chasm of shock. It was unexpected, and yet they all knew this could have happened at any time. Hell, Lance almost died, and so did Keith. Pidge felt nothing but sorrow at her passing. It hurt her even more to know that Lance was hurting. He was devastated; crying at night loud enough for her to hear two doors down, no matter how he tried to hide it. His smiles were replaced by melancholy grimaces. Pidge just wanted him to laugh again. She’d do anything to see him flash that familiar grin and hit on a hot alien chick.

The third blow came the night the lions left them. Of course, everyone was sad. Pidge felt as if there was a gaping hole in her chest. She was only seventeen, and already it felt as if she lost so much. The morning after they all went their ways. Pidge returned to earth and buried herself in work. She applied to college and was accepted, only to drop out a year later due to PTSD, anxiety, and depression. She refused to go to a therapist or a doctor even when her parents begged her. She moved out shortly after.

Her apartment was a little under five hundred square feet, on the third floor of a brick building. There was little natural light, and Pidge spent most of her free time sleeping or working on a project. Since school didn’t occupy her time she put in extra hours at work.

Pidge lost contact with the other paladins. Hunk and Shiro had called her up while she was still in college, but that was months ago. Now she sat, hunched over an overflowing desk in her small apartment, scribbling furiously. Her abode was littered with clothes and mechanical parts, half finished projects. Oftentimes, she’d wake up to find that she’d fallen asleep at her desk. Life passed by, day by day; numbly.

Pidge had a coworker who she blackmailed into buying her alcohol. Some nights she drank herself into oblivion whenever she thought of the past and her teammates. Nobody needed Voltron anymore: what was she even doing? Dropped out of college, working third shift as a mechanic at just above minimum wage sixty hours a week, not seeing anyone… Pidge reached for the bottle and felt a tear slip down her face. Best to drown your feelings before they get to you.

She could only do so much, though, when Shiro called her up to ask if she was coming to the yearly reunion since she’d missed last year’s due to finals. He’d woken her up from a drunken stupor, but luckily didn’t notice if her voice was a little slurred. She said yes before her rational brain could catch up.

Three weeks later, she sat at a round table underneath the statue of Allura. Hunk sat on her left, Keith on her right. Shiro and Lance were across the table while Coran seated himself next to Hunk. There was a little conversation on what each of them had been up to. Pidge kept quiet. Her throat felt tight whenever she looked up. Especially when she glanced in Lance’s direction. He’d lost a little muscle, and there were those altean marks on his face, but otherwise he looked the same as before… before Allura was gone. He still had that wistful look whenever he spoke of her. Pidge felt a twinge of jealousy. Not now, she told herself.

Hunk said something she missed, but it was apparently hilarious. Lance’s face stretched into the biggest smile and- oh god- he let out a laugh. Pidge was pretty sure her heart stopped beating for a good minute while she stared at him. It was a glimpse of the old Lance: carefree and happy. Eventually he stopped and she resumed scribbling on her napkin, a tickle in the back of her throat.

“How about you Pidge?” Shiro turned to her, “What have you been up to? How’s college?”

Pidge’s head snapped up. How was she to answer that question? They had all moved on with their lives. She was stuck in the past, reliving the nightmare of the war each night.

Drinking to forget love and heartache.

They were all staring at her, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, college is fine. I’m just working on projects.”

“How’s Chip doing?” Hunk asked.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d stopped working on the robot after dropping out.

“Good. Gotta reprogram him though. Too much sass.”

They all laughed and Pidge felt guilty lying to them. The night passed slowly, each paladin recounting their last year. As soon as it was acceptable, Pidge excused herself to her room. It was strange sleeping on New Altea. Her mind drifted back to Lance. She fought the urge to cough. She must be coming down with a cold.

Pidge sat up and hacked, covering her mouth with her hands. She coughed and coughed until something came up. She spat it out into the garbage, fully expecting it to be some glob of mucus. Instead, something soft fell limply into the trashcan. She reached in and picked it up. It was a little slimy with mucus, but undeniable: a single white petal.

Morning came and Pidge confirmed her fears. The moment she sat up, the coughing started and two more petals fell from her lips. She threw them away and reminded herself that this would pass, just like last time. She just needed to get home and forget about Lance again.

The following days she was plagued with a persistent cough. Sometimes there were flower petals, sometimes not. Pidge spent more nights drinking, begging her feelings to leave her. Lance should not have been so forefront in her thoughts as he was. Her coughing worsened about a week and a half later. She started hacking up bigger pieces of flowers, and even an unopened bud. It had started becoming more painful. The petals, she figured, came from roses and peonies. The roses weren’t too bad to get out, but once the larger pieces came, the peonies nearly choked her. Breathing was getting difficult, and she could feel thorns starting to prick her lungs.

Three weeks into this agony she lost her job due to downsizing. Pidge had enough to cover rent for two more months. She laughed bitterly.

If I survive this.

She hadn’t spoken to anyone since the gathering three weeks ago, not even her family. So it was unexpected when Matt called her up.

“Hey Pidge,” he smiled through the screen, “How’ve you been?”

She pasted on a weary smile and replied. “Good. How about you?”

“Just finishing up on one of the planets in the Rheldanian system. I’ll be home in a few weeks.”

“That’s great!” Pidge said before coughing again.

“Hey, you okay?” Matt’s face was etched with worry.

“Just a cold,” she waved him off, discreetly dropping the petals in her hands to the floor which was littered with them.

“Well, be sure to get some rest. Hey; I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.”

Pidge said her goodbyes and shut off the tablet. As soon as it was off, another cough wracked her body and half a rose came out.

Laughter echoed off the walls as Pidge lifted a small child from the floor. She planted a kiss on the toddler’s face and settled them on her hip.

“Lance!”

“What is it Pidge?” a familiar voice called back.

“Are you ready yet?”

“Hey, beauty takes time!” he appeared in the doorway, straightening his tie. “And I want to look my best for our fourth anniversary dinner.”

“Well we’ll lose our reservation if you dawdle any longer. We’ve got to get Lex to my mom’s house.”

“After you,” Lance bowed and smiled, eyes crinkling.

Pidge laughed and headed out to the car where she buckled Lex into the seat. Lance opened the door for her to get in and she made a show of being aghast.

“Oh, just get in,” he kissed her forehead.

They dropped Lex off and drove until they were out of the city. They threw out a blanket and some pillows, lying back to watch the stars.

“Some reservation,” Lance snorted.

“Shut up. You were taking forever,” Pidge laughed. “And this spot is reserved. Just nobody knows it is.”

Lance rolled over to face her.

“Katie…”

Pidge turned her head to face him.

“I love you, Katie,” Lance reached out a hand and cradled her face.

Pidge leaned into it. It was warm and soft. She wished she could stop time in that moment.

“I love you too, Lance,” she replied.

Pidge woke with a violent fit of coughing. She thought she was choking as she spit out two halves of a peony and three white rose petals, speckled with something dark. Pidge picked it up and held it to the light. Blood.

It was getting worse.

Pidge spent the next week holed up in her apartment. She didn’t answer any of the calls from Hunk or Shiro, or the one from Keith. She found herself unable to eat anything, but always thirsty. She guzzled water like there was no tomorrow. And for her, there might not be.

Petals and partial flowers littered her floors and bed. There were even one or two entire roses in the living room. She didn’t bother to sweep them up. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to see them. After her dream about Lance, she’d felt the thorns start to take hold of her heart. The pain was constant, and her breathing had become labored. Not only that, her voice was fading. The plants were starting to reach for light, meaning they were making their way up her throat, digging thorns into the soft flesh of her trachea. It wouldn’t be long now before the disease took her over completely.

A month and a half after leaving New Altea, there was a knock on Pidge’s apartment door. She peered through the peephole to see Shiro outside. Pidge glanced frantically over the petals littering the floor.

“Pidge? I know you’re in there.”

She didn’t answer.

“Why haven’t you been answering our calls?”

“I’m busy,” she managed to croak out.

“We’re worried about you. I went to check on you at school but they said you haven’t been enrolled since last year. Why didn’t you tell us?”

Pidge felt something in her throat. She struggled not to cough.

“Pidge?”

There was a choking noise and a forceful cough. Something heavy fell with a wet plop! to the floor.

“Pidge! Open up! I’ll cut the door down if you don’t!”

Pidge struggled to stand, her legs feeling weak from lack of food. She unlocked the door and Shiro barreled in. He stopped short, surveying the petal-strewn apartment. Turning to Pidge, he saw the trickle of blood staining her chin.

“Pidge…” he knelt down. “How long has this been going on?”

She looked up, feeling miserable, before holding up six fingers.

“Six days? Weeks?”

She nodded. Shiro cursed under his breath.

“Who is it?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. She was not going to lay this burden on Lance. She remembered very specifically three years ago when he’d referred to her as his “younger sister”. There was no way he was romantically inclined towards her.

“We need to get you to a doctor.”

She shook her head again. She didn’t want to lose her love for her teammate. Even if she died. It was stubborn, she knew, but the rational part of her brain failed to work with these tendrils crawling up her throat. Besides, it was probably too late anyway.

“Come on; I don’t care what you say. Let’s go.” Shiro picker her up like a child and carried her down three flights of stairs to his car. He even buckled her in, but she didn’t have the strength to fight. They made it to the hospital in record time. Shiro had called her parents on the way over, and Hunk while they waited for a room. So far the words “hanahaki” had not slipped his lips. He had just said that something was wrong.

Something was wrong with nineteen-year-old Katie, and it was urgent. Pidge fought the urge to laugh. Here she was: nineteen, a dropout, washed up and dying of unrequited love. Only two years ago she’d been saving the universe. Two years ago, she’d still been whole. Her life had been simple: defeat the Galra. Now… now there was nothing. No goal, no point in living. Especially since the one person she loved was still pining over their dead lover. A dead lover she could never hope to live up to.

Tears began to spill from her eyes as she sat in the hospital bed. Shiro glanced over from his call to Keith. He quickly ended the call and handed her a tissue.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Pidge shook her head.

The doctor came in and whisked her away for x-rays. And then an MRI. And a shitload of tests that all pointed to the same thing: it was too late to stop it. Had it been two or three days earlier? That would have been a different story. But the roots had already latched onto the heart and alveoli. There was no way to take out the plant without removing her heart and lungs as well.

Sam and Colleen took the news harshly. They begged Pidge to tell them who was causing this, but she stubbornly refused. She would not saddle Lance with the guilt. Not even as she coughed up a handful of blood-stained petals.

Matt flew right home after hearing his baby sister was dying. He vowed to personally kick the ass of whoever had done this to Pidge. His Pidge.

Keith and Krolia both showed up to the hospital half a day later to see Pidge. Luckily, they had been nearby doing relief work. Pidge cried upon seeing them, prompting Shiro to ask her if it was Keith. When she vigorously shook her head, he sat back, brows furrowed.

Hunk came to see her the same day Keith did, still being on earth. He sobbed, holding her hand and begging her to tell him who was causing the disease. Pidge only patted his shoulder and smiled sadly, turning away to choke out another flower. The thorns had made their way to the back of her throat, so breathing was nearly impossible. She refused to have a tube put down her throat, but allowed them to give her oxygen.

Lance was the last one to make it. It was two days after Keith and Hunk had gotten there, and three days since they confirmed there was no way to remove it. The doctors doubted that even reciprocated love would fix someone this far gone. He burst in the door, panting, as the altean marks stood out against his tanned skin.

“Where is she?”

“She’s right here Lance,” Shiro pointed to the bed where a deathly pale Pidge lay, eyes closed, cracked lips parted to take in as much breath as possible.

Tears welled in Lance’s eyes as he moved to clutch her limp hand, holding it to his chest.

“Pidge…”

Her eyelids fluttered and opened halfway.

“Lance?” Her voice came out barely a whisper. She reached up to brush his cheek.

“That’s the first time she’s spoken since I got here,” Keith told him, arms crossed.

“Who’s doing this to you?” Lance demanded, “Tell me right now; I’m going to go drag their ass here!”

“I’ve already said the same thing,” Keith frowned, “She won’t spill.”

Lance turned his gaze to the small frame next to him. Pidge offered a strained smile, her breath rattling and wheezing.

“Pidge, you have to tell us; it’s the only way we can save you,” Lance pleaded, “We can’t go on without you!”

Pidge’s dry laugh set everyone on edge.

“You’ve been doing fine without me,” she wheezed. “You’ll be fine after I go.”

There was a shocked silence.

“No, we aren’t!! You’re going to stay!” Matt shouted.

“Matt,” she turned her head and coughed out two blood stained rose petals. “I’m dying. You can’t stop it.”

“We could if you would just tell us who it is!” Lance jumped up.

“He’d never return my feelings,” Pidge gasped and felt thorns digging into her chest. She put a hand to her heart and tugged at the hospital gown. Shiro stepped forward, unsure of how to help.

“You don’t know that!” Hunk said, “Maybe he loves you and you just don’t know it!”

“He loves someone else!” she shouted, her hoarse voice cracking. Tears threatened to spill.

There was silence.

“We.. we could still try. Are you sure he loves someone else?” Shiro put a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s probably head over heels for you,” Lance crossed his arms. “You’re just oblivious.”

Pidge laughed, and it quickly turned into a cough. Suddenly she was choking, and she couldn’t breathe. Her face went red, then purple. Hunk panicked. Krolia smacked her back, but Pidge only struggled, hands to her throat, tears streaming at the pain. A large flower forced itself past the thorns and vines digging into her throat and out. It landed heavily on her lap. A full bloomed peony, perfect except for the copious amounts of blood soaking it, lay staining the white sheets.

Colleen’s hand was at her mouth, and Matt was holding Pidge’s head to his chest, stroking her hair and telling her it was going to be alright.

“Pidge, please… I don’t know how to convince you to tell us, but you have to,” Matt pulled away to look her in her eyes.

“I… I can’t,” Pidge choked. “I can’t do that to them.”

Another cough brought forth something less bulky than before, but still painful. A rosebud and four petals slipped from her mouth. She felt something hard, and spit it out. A rose thorn landed on the floor, smearing blood in a semicircle.

Hunk gagged and Matt pulled her tighter to him.

“They deserve to know,” Lance said, “Give them a chance.”

“Is it someone we know?” Shiro asked.

Pidge looked down, tracing one of the petals from the peony.

“So it is…” Keith narrowed his eyes.

“Is it one of us?” Hunk looked up. “Oh god, is it me? Pidge I’m so sorry~”

“It’s not you Hunk,” Pidge put her hand on his.

“Who is it?” Keith leaned on the edge of her bed. “You didn’t answer Hunk: is it someone in this room?”

“N-no..” Pidge crossed her arms as she felt something prodding the back of her teeth.

“That’s you’re lying face,” Matt accused.

Pidge was about to object when she dry heaved. Hunk recoiled at the sound and Colleen lurched forward. Pidge coughed, feeling something roiling up from her lungs. She was breathless for several moments as she practically vomited out three roses, half a peony, and handfuls of bloodied petals. Not only that, but lying on top of the whole mess was a blood-stained juni-berry flower. Her face went pale and she looked up to where Lance stood, mouth agape.

“You… you love Allura?” he gasped.

Pidge found herself wondering how he managed to make it this far in life. The others were looking at her with curious gazes.

“But I thought you said it was a guy~”

Matt was the first one to figure it out. He had Lance pinned against the wall within seconds.

“It’s you dammit!” he growled.

“Wh-what?” Lance blinked, looking dazed.

“It’s fucking you!” Matt roared. “She’s dying because of you!”

“M-matt!” Pidge coughed and spewed another handful of petals. “Please, stop~”

“Like hell!” he seethed.

Shiro pulled them apart, leaving Lance stunned.

“How long?” Hunk asked Pidge.

“I…” she gasped, her breathing erratic and shallow, “Since… b…beeeeef….”

Matt grabbed her by her shoulders.

“Katie?”

“Before coming back to earth,” she managed.

“Lance!” Keith turned on him, “Confess. Now.”

Lance stood dumbly. “But… but I don’t love her~”

Too quickly Pidge felt her throat constrict and sharp pains in her chest.

Lance realized what he’d said and desperately tried to fix it.

“It’s not-not that I don’t love her! I just don’t think of her like… like that,” he wrung his hands. “I… I love Allura… even though she’s gone I can’t… can’t stop~”

Matt grabbed him by his collar. “Fucking take it back!” he snarled. “My baby sister is dying because of you! Can’t you find it in you to love her even a little bit?”

“That’s not how love works,” Shiro put his hand on Matt’s shoulder, “You can’t force it.”

Meanwhile, Pidge was struggling to breathe. She grabbed onto Keith’s shoulder, body wracked with pain and the need to breath. She opened her mouth to reveal thorny stems curling out. Petals dropped right and left as she choked on nothing, vines blocking her airway.

“Katie!” Colleen and Sam lunged forward.

Keith screamed for a doctor and Matt was at her side in an instant. Pidge writhed as Hunk cried, arching her back. Shaking, her body tensed… her eyes widened and a tear slipped out. Slowly, as if time had slowed, her body relaxed, falling limp in Matt’s arms.

The heart monitor let out a piercing shriek and Hunk wailed in harmony. Matt buried his face in Pidge’s chest, her head falling back, mouth stuffed full of peonies in full bloom. Colleen and Sam had turned to each other’s embrace, Krolia put her arm around Keith, and Hunk was folding in on himself while Shiro put a hand on his shoulder with a solemn expression. Lance stood, dumbfounded.

Pidge. The green paladin. Resident tech nerd.

Gone.

Forever.

He sank to the floor, head in his hands.

“Katie!” Matt cried, “No! Come back! Please!”

He pulled back to look into her pale face. Pidge’s eyes were open, empty of the life they used to hold. Vines curled out of her mouth, tiny thorns poking into her soft, nearly translucent skin. Her mouth bloomed blood speckled flowers, the largest of which brushed the bottom of her nose. Her caramel hair lay limp around her shoulders, having grown out over the past two years.

She didn’t look like an angel.

She didn’t seem at peace.

She looked small and broken.

Matt brushed one of the flowers with his fingertip, tracing it down to her cheek.

Pidge had known Lance wouldn’t return her feelings. She was trying to spare him. It had all been in vain when her body betrayed her with the juni-berry flower. Now her suffering had been in vain. If this had happened a week or two earlier, she could still be alive. She might not have feelings for Lance, but she’d be alive.

Love could be so cruel, Matt thought bitterly as he watched a blood-soaked flower slip and fall unceremoniously to the floor. No matter how beautiful it looked, it could end at any moment and slip out of your fingers, leaving you at the mercy of life’s whims. For Pidge, it was hanahaki.

#voltron #pidge gunderson #katie holt #lance mcclain #voltron fic #whump #sad fic #death fic #hanahaki #voltron hanahaki

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vldfanenesp · 1 year ago

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Hilos De Telar - Polydin AU Fanfiction

Los paladines de Voltron no solo deben enfrentar al emperador Zarkon, a su ejército Galra y liberar a toda la galaxia, sino también deben comprender que son esos sentimientos que sienten los unos por los otros y descubrir si son reales o solo un efecto más de su conexión con el arma legendaria que es Voltron.

Reseña [X]

Head Canons

Características generales del UA [X]

Ships polydines [X]

Romanticas:

Kidge, Klance (Leith), Sheith, Heith, Plance, Shidge, Hidge, Hance, Shance y Shunk.

Romances de Allura (En desarrollo)

Coran x Ilak (Corak??) (En desarrollo)

Fanfics

Primera Parte: Multicolores

1.0 1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4 1.5 1.6 1.7 1.8 1.9 Completo

Segunda Parte: Macrame

2.0 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 2.9 2.10 2.11 2.12 2.13 2.14 Completo

Tercera parte - Punto y seguido

3.0 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9 3.10 Completo

Cuarta parte - Bordado (nuevo)

4.0 4.1 4.2 4.3 4.4 4.5

Epilogo: Code: Paladin blood

E.0 E.1

Aventuras Adicionales

Especial: Bond-fire Completo

1.0 1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4 1.5 1.6 1.7 1.8 1.9

Especial Fic/Aventura adicional: Base espacial BX-21L7 Completo

BX.0 BX.1 BX.2 BX.3 BX.4 BX.5 BX.6 BX.7 BX.8 BX.9 BX.10 BX.11 BX.12 BX.13 BX.14 BX.15 BX.16 BX.17 BX.18 BX.19 BX.20

Especial: Pecado de sangre Completo

P.0 P.1 P.2 P3 P.5

Links fuera de Tumblr

Hilos de Telar - Fanfiction.net

Hilos de Telar - Wattpad

Hilos de Telar - Archive of Our Own

Ultima actualización: 29/09/2023

#voltron fanfiction #voltron fanfic #masterlist #fanfiction #fanfic

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angelgrotesque · 6 years ago

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Songs For Soulmates *Plance* (Seven[Pidge])

Y’all,,,, this fic isn’t done okay,,, not even close

After a while, Pidge pulled away and looked at Lance, eyes watery. It had taken what, sixteen years? But she’d done it. She’d found her soulmate. Bonus points for him being in a world famous band. Music started playing, and when it echoed, Pidge knew the whole stadium could hear it.

Imagine Dragons - Walking the Wire

Pidge looked across the stage to see four - no, five - figures approaching them from the stage. She could make out four of them - Kosmo, the husky whose coat was tinted slightly blue, Allura and Romelle, the cousins who sang backup, and Hunk, the drummer who could put emotions into even the lightest taps to his drum set. The fifth... a woman, Pidge could tell, but she wasn’t familiar with her. As she got closer, Pidge realized it must be their manager, which, if her research was correct, meant that she was Keith’s mom. Pffft, that must be pretty embarrassing.

“We heard the news!” Hunk exclaimed, sprinting for a while to reach the group. “Aww, look, Lance. You got a tiny cute soulmate!” Lance was beaming so widely Pidge thought that maybe his face would split in half.

“Hunk, Allura, Romelle, Krolia, meet Pidge. She’s my soulmate!”

“Ooh!” Romelle’s eyes lit up and she greeted Pidge with a wave. “How exciting! What does it feel like?”

“Romelle doesn’t have a soulmate.” Lance explained, and Pidge nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind! I have the band to keep me company. They’re the best friends I could ask for! It’s thanks to my cousin that I was able to join.” Romelle elbowed Allura, who smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, uhhh, speaking of the band,” Hunk interjected, “do you maybe want to tour with us? Join the band? Oh, and your brother, too. He can come.” Pidge’s eyes widened. First, she miraculously gets an opportunity to meet her idols. Next, she realizes that one of them is her soulmate. And now she was being asked to join the band?!

“Could I?” Pidge asked excitedly. Shiro laughter and nodded. “Absolutely. What can you play?”

Pidge smirked. “Well... I have always felt like your band needed a keyboardist...”

“Perfect! It’s settled.” The woman, Krolia, said. Her black suit nearly gleamed. “I’ll be sure to order you... what sort of keyboard do you prefer?”

“Oh, um, electric, I guess.”

“Electric, got it. You know, I really am happy for you two. I remember the day I met my own soulmate, it was-”

“Mom.” Keith interrupted. He was scowling. Pidge stifled a laugh.

“Oh, I’m embarrassing you. Sorry mister grumpy emo teen.” Krolia teased. Keith sighed. “I’m nineteen.”

“Technically,” Hunk said, patting Keith on the shoulder, “that’s still a teenager. I’m pretty sure Shiro’s the oldest one of us minus Krolia, and he’s what... twenty five?”

“Twenty three.” Shiro corrected. “You were close, though.”

“So, uhh...” Matt shrugged innocently. “Where do I fit in in all this?”

“Well, let’s see.” Krolia took a pencil and notebook out of her suit pocket and prepared to write notes. “Any fortes?”

“I’m good with tech, programming.”

“Lights? Sound?” Krolia prodded.

“I could do either.” There was a crash as one of the lights fell off the grid and onto the guy on the ladder who was currently affixing it. The man yelled and forcefully pushed it off him, somehow able to regain his balance. The giant light crashed to the floor and Krolia rubbed her temples.

“Lights it is. Welcome to the team, Holts.”

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defendersofaurita · 6 years ago

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Title: Converging and Diverting

Author/Artist: AnchoredTether

Rating: M [graphic depictions of violence, major character death, dark themes]

Pairings: Plance [Pikelavar], Kallura [Thunderyun]

Series: Defenders of Aurita

Chapter: 13/?

Summary: Meklavar has a formidable secret. Pike has an objective for which he's willing to kill. Despite their odds, they might have a chance of realizing their seemingly impossible desires if they fight for them together. Revelations are brought to light, quests align, and their hope lies in the power of a common cause.

Aurita is on the brink of desolation and it will require more than courage and sacrifice to save what is left. As the stakes continue to rise, what was once a fight for restoring a broken kingdom turns into a war far more sinister.

CH13 :: CONVERGING AND DIVERTING

"It's been days and we still haven't seen or heard from Meklavar or Pike." Block said when he brought over a tray filled with various meals to their table in the busy tavern.

"They'll know to meet here," Valayun piped hopefully as she grabbed her bowl of soup with an excited grin. "It's the largest tavern and it's in the center of town. It's the most logical place to meet." She shrugged. "Meklavar's short, and Pike's arm was still injured, so maybe they're just taking a while longer to get here."

"Being short doesn't make you that much slower at walking." Thunder deadpanned.

"If they're not here within the next day," Jiro started, "then we'll leave a message with the innkeeper and head north."

"Just one more day?" Block looked at the paladin with concern. "What if they're in trouble? What if the dragon caught up to them? Shouldn't we go looking for them?"

"Shiro doesn't have much time left, it is imperative that I find the sorcerer." His expression was stern. "Whether you choose to accompany me or not is up to your discretion."

"I will come with you," Thunder offered, his gaze hard. "I at least owe Shiro that much."

"I... feel more inclined to stay," Valayun said. "For all we know, Pike or Meklavar could desperately need a healer. If they aren't here by tomorrow evening I will try looking for them."

"I'm with Valayun," Block said. "But if you leave something of yours with us I can use a tracking spell to meet back up with you guys."

Thunder nodded, taking the ring off his index finger and placing it in Block's upturned palm. "Don't lose it, it's important to me."

"I can take something less valuable-"

"No, the stronger the sentiment the stronger the spell. It'll help you find us with greater ease."

"Okay," Block held onto the ring tight before placing it carefully in one of his pockets. "I'll keep it secret, keep it safe."

][ --- ][

It took Pike nearly three days to heal enough that they could start traveling again. Thanks to Korhan's healing salve and various ingredients, Pike's recovery was swift. Meklavar realized Korhan's claim that khaliit were a resilient species held true - the only other species she had seen (aside from herself as dragonborn) with such strength and adaptability were galra.

"Princess, we need to get you a change of clothes! Your previous outfit was completely destroyed aside from the armor…" Korhan distressed. "Unfortunately I have nothing worthy of a princess!!"

"Korhan, we're traveling to Darmuth and finding a sorcerer. It's not like I need to wear a ballgown," Meklavar said impassively. "Besides, I'm trying to keep my identity secret, remember?"

"Well that doesn't mean you can't still do it in style!" Korhan sounded offended. "I got the blood out of Pike's scarf and his pants were salvageable but I'm afraid everything else was too far rent from the dragon's claws. Luckily we're a similar height and build…" He rummaged through a closet, flinging the occasional item of clothing behind him.

Pike glanced over at Meklavar with a dubious expression. He was currently shirtless, his freshly removed stitches leaving ragged scars almost as dark as the crimson markings along his back. "Well, at least I don't need pants, otherwise I'd have to tailor them, and that's always a pain."

"Tailor them, or tail-or them?" She snickered.

"Hey, this is no laughing matter! Do you have any idea how much I chafe down there unless there's a proper hole for my tail?" Pike sighed. "And Aurita doesn't have a large enough population of khaliit to have pants for us readily available."

She frowned as the wheels in her head began to turn. "Huh. I never thought about something like that. I wonder how I would go about making something that's low in demand but at the same time essential for those who need it more available to the populace…"

"I mean, most tailors are willing to alter pants for khaliit, khariit, and argonians, but whew, do they charge a mighty fee… it's easier if I just do it myself." He shrugged.

"Perhaps just a simple regulation that all alterations should be charged as the same price to avoid discrimination…" She held a hand to her lips as she thought. "Or even that such alterations should be free if they don't provide necessary clothing for a certain species' specifications…" She pointed up to his head. "Hoods too, you'd need them altered for your ears."

"Some galra have similar specifications, orcs need three-fingered gloves, you and dwarves need shorter tailored clothes, and I don't even know what centaurs do for clothing and armor for their lower half."

She swatted his head for the jab towards her height. "I'm pretty certain all the centaurs live in Namithir which is not my division. Well, at least... wasn't my division. But, it's still interesting to consider."

"Look at you two," Korhan beamed, "Talking about demographics and politics!" He tossed a shirt at Pike's face, causing his ears to swivel back with a grunt. "Now put on this tight shirt and let's get out there!"

][ --- ][

"How do you know Shiro?" Jiro asked as he, Thunder, and Rover made their way through the crowded streets of Darmuth. It would take them almost half the day just to get out of the city, but Jiro was confident the sorcerer's home would only take them a day or two's journey north.

The ranger was quiet a moment, guarded as always, but decided that the twin brother of Shiro was someone he could probably trust. "Shiro found me after I was exiled from my village. I was only eleven when it happened, but he showed me how to survive. He gave me reason to hope."

"You were exiled? Why?"

"I'm originally from Namithir. And apparently my mother had to have been galran, since my markings started to show once I reached adolescence. The village must have assumed my mother was human since I didn't have any elvish markings but I still looked like all of them." He clearly remembered the day it happened and how some simple purple stripes on his face could cause so much hatred to seep from the hearts of people who he thought were kind and charitable. The true faces of people were hidden deep beneath acceptable facades and Thunder learned that the true intentions of most people were ugly and selfish.

"What about your father?"

"He died when I was five. I have no idea if my mother is alive or dead from what little I could get out of him. But regardless…" He let out a sigh. "I've lived on my own for most of my life." Rover let out a small whine which caused him to gently pet the giant wolf's head. "Well, until I met this guy."

"Hmm… you must have met Shiro when he was traveling to Henat. Did you end up accompanying him there?"

"Yeah… we parted ways when we reached Staerene. But I saw him again many years later, right before the Invasion."

"Huh… and… he never mentioned me?" Jiro almost sounded wounded.

Thunder frowned, uncertain how to address the paladin's hurt. "He never really talked about himself… never about his family, his interests, or personal concerns. It was always about the mission or about helping others."

"I suppose that's just a testament of D'Jahno's training and the seven pillars of knighthood." Jiro paused, his brows lowering in skepticism. "That's hilarious you would say he never talked about himself, because he'd never shut up about his 'bright internal light' and how he was chosen to be a paladin. It's all just because he can use chakra and I can't."

Thunder offered an encouraging smile. "I guess identical twins aren't quite so identical after all. But hey, you're still a paladin, so there's that."

"You're right… and there's nothing more fulfilling than being a paladin."

][ --- ][

"So how does this Castle of Lions thing work??" Pike asked as they headed towards Darmuth on foot, having left the giant tent behind.

"Oh it's super fascinating!" Meklavar started, "It's through a locator spell combined with a warp enchantment if I remember correctly. Korhan can explain it better though."

"So this bracelet here," Korhan held up his wrist and pulled back his sleeve for Pike to see the white band with a cyan colored spell etched into its face, "Works as a locator for the Castle. I can always find the Castle so long as I have this, so it works like a tracking spell. With the bracelet, I can also summon the Castle to wherever I am."

"Wait, so you can teleport the Castle right here if you wanted to??" Pike looked like Korhan just told him he could resurrect the dead. "Even though it's half a mile back that way? And it's huge?"

"Well, relatively speaking, the Castle is quite small. But yes - it takes a couple of doboshes to work, however, and it takes longer the greater the distance."

"But doesn't that mean that anyone could stumble across the Castle and take your stuff?"

"I don't leave my front door unlocked, Pike. And before you say 'there are no doors that cannot be unlocked' I'll have you know, I have plenty of protective enchantments that keep the Castle hidden from thieving eyes such as yours."

"I'm not a-"

"Besides, the bracelet would alert me if anyone entered. I can always warp the Castle here if that happens because it only transports inanimate objects. Any persons inside would just remain at that location."

"Huh. Neat. I guess we don't have to stress anymore about finding shelter at night."

"Which is good considering Valayun still has our share of the loot," Meklavar added.

"Oh? You're traveling with Valayun?" Korhan asked. "Alfor's daughter?"

"The one and the same." She let out a sigh. "She seemed to recognize me as well, but I don't… I don't remember her at all. Or Alfor. But the name Altair sounds like I should know it."

"As you should - Alfor was the royal Chancellor, arguably the most important person in the kingdom after your father."

"I remember him," Pike offered. "He looks just like Valayun except his markings are light blue. Well, I guess it's Valayun who looks like him. Anyway - he wore armor very similar to Shiro's- I mean Jiro's… well, both of them, really."

"That's great, Pike, but I still don't remember him." Meklavar let out what sounded like a growl. "I think I need to just accept the fact I'm never getting those memories back and move on."

"Hey!" Pike spun in front of her, forcing her to stop. "You remembered the night of the Invasion, or at least part of it, just from me talking to you! We are not giving up on your memories!!"

"My memories are nothing but pain and suffering. I don't exactly care to relive all that."

"I know you have good memories mixed in with the bad. Don't you want to remember your family?"

"My entire family is dead, Pike. I think it'd be easier not to remember them."

"Mek…" He put a hand on her shoulder and saw she was on the verge of tears but she was being so strong despite the turmoil of emotions and confusion that raged inside her. Pike's voice was soft, his eyes pained in understanding. "I don't know anything about my father because he died when I was too young to remember. I would kill to have any kind of good memory of him. Your family would want you to remember them, even if it is painful. It will probably be incredibly painful but it'll be worth it. I know your memories are important to you despite what you're thinking now and I know they're important to everyone who was a part of them, including me."

"I'm sorry about your father… and…" Her eyebrows lowered and her voice shook ever so slightly. "My memories are important to you? But you said we were just acquaintances."

"Well…" His markings started to turn a bright red but his eyes were sincere. He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck. "I figured I was just an acquaintance to you… but to me? …You were kind of my only friend."

She blinked a few times, completely baffled. "I… was?"

"Most my childhood I was a slave and even though living in the castle as a servant was phenomenally better it's not like there was anyone my age to interact with. Aside from you, that is. But even that was limited. But outside of my family? You're the only one I could really call a friend." He jabbed his thumb behind him to the elder elf. "Korhan comes close. But he's more like an uncle. Same with Olia I guess, but she's more like an aunt. And her kids were much too young to befriend me. All they would do is chase my tail anyways." He sighed. "Khariit pups are a nuisance."

Korhan giggled. "I remember when that happened. They chased you and your sisters throughout the whole castle."

Pike groaned. "Uhhhgh it was awful. My legs were sore for weeks."

Meklavar gave him a wicked grin before continuing their walk towards the city. "So it was your classic game of dog-chase-cat?"

Pike stood there and pouted a moment as the two elves lengthened the distance from him. "Not a cat," he growled before running up to them and slowing to their pace. His ear rotated when he heard Meklavar whisper something that only he would be able to hear, her amber hues glancing up to him.

"Thank you, Pike."

He offered her a quiet hum.

][ --- ][

"Oh quiznack," Valayun swore as she rummaged through her satchel.

Block raised an eyebrow at her. "Quiznack?"

"I should have given Jiro and Thunder some of our loot!" She threw her head back in a frustrated groan. "I'm a horrible treasurer."

"I don't think there are any towns between here and the sorcerer's place for them to even spend money in, so I think they'll be fine. I do wonder though how Pike and Meklavar are holding up."

"Oh Pike's a thief. I'm certain that if they needed money he'd figure out a way to acquire some."

"Probably." Block frowned. "But then again he said he wasn't a thief."

"He probably just said that to throw off your guard. What kind of thief proudly announces they're such?"

"I dunno, a good one?"

"Exactly," she said decisively as if that explained everything. "We have to make it a priority then to make sure we meet back up with both Pike and Meklavar and Jiro and Thunder, that way we can at least divide up the loot between us if we do part ways again. I am hoping, however, that we stick together. I think we make a great team." She lowered her gaze, her expression nostalgic. "I'd always dreamed of being part of a spectacular group of people, out there fighting the good fight, helping people in need…"

"It is nice to travel with others," Block agreed. "I'm grateful I ran into Meklavar and that she decided to help me, otherwise I don't think I'd ever get past the Wiebian Swamps. Although… it's weird to think she's actually-"

Valayun quickly grabbed the sorcerer's shoulder, giving him a warning look.

"Right. Secrecy." Although the market street was loud with bustling people, there was no knowing what prying ears were listening in to their conversation. "But I think it'd be pretty amazing to help her with her 'quest,' if you know what I mean."

"It would be a noble quest indeed," she concurred, looking around at the various stands and booths selling a wide variety of necessities and luxuries. "I would love to continue what my father has started."

"What your father started?"

"I'll tell everyone all about it as soon as we regroup. And we can discuss Meklavar's 'quest' in greater detail as well." She let out a small exclamation once her eyes found what she was looking for, her face lighting up. "As for right now? I'm going to purchase some lovely arrows."

][ --- ][

][ music ][

The city of Darmuth was visible enough that Pike could see the details of the architecture. The city walls had impressive archways and all the rooftops of the numerous tall buildings were a distinct red. As they drew nearer, Pike's brows lowered and his ears perked forward, straining to make out anything amongst the myriad of noises coming from the town.

Meklavar noticed his change in behavior and tried to look where he was looking but his eyes were darting around too much. "What is it?"

"I'm… hearing something within the city walls. It sounds like screaming." He looked over at her and then Korhan. "And I think I got a whiff of smoke, but it's hard to tell from this distance."

"Perhaps we should enter the city from the western gate?" Korhan asked.

"I dunno… by the time we get on that side of the city whatever's going on inside might have migrated over there anyways." They all started when an explosion sounded from the heart of Darmuth, arcs of purple lightning trailing up above the rooftops. "Whatever's going on inside looks serious." He summoned his lance, the ring on his index finger transforming into the weapon he twirled in his hand. "Our teammates could be in danger."

Meklavar stared at the lance before looking up at him. "Are you sure you're healed enough to fight? It was almost impossible to get you out of bed this morning."

"I'll be fine, that's what my chakra is for," he said dismissively. He didn't actually know how many spells he would be able to cast in his current state but he didn't like the idea of Meklavar fighting without him there to ensure no harm came to her. He knew she was plenty capable and stronger than him in more ways than one, but at some point along their travels, he developed an almost instinctual need to protect her. He wasn't sure if it was his servant sense of duty to her or loyalty from their small but meaningful affinity that urged him to vigilant behavior. He reckoned the seeds of safeguarding were planted as soon as she confided in him her secret of being dragonborn and now the roots were firmly weaved deep within his heart.

"Whatever lies ahead, princess," Korhan started as he unsheathed his rapier, "Know that I shall have your back."

"And I…" Pike made a face. "Your side, I guess."

Meklavar took a deep breath as she looked to both of her comrades and then to the danger that lied ahead. "I wouldn't have it any other way. And no formalities, Korhan."

"Yes prin- ahem. Meklavar."

When they reached the city gates the chaos they were greeted with was worse than they could have imagined. Pike tried to make sense of all the sounds and smells that bombarded his senses but there was too much mayhem to understand the situation entirely. Townspeople ran in fear screaming, others brandished weapons of every variety from swords to frying pans, elvish and galran soldiers under the Empire were attacking with all forms of steel and magic, rebel forces fought against the Empire, city guards were running around shouting orders and helping townspeople while also fighting whoever, and another organization that wore facial masks adorned with the design of a maw full of fangs were included in the fray.

"The Fangtides are here, as well as the Empire," Pike hissed.

"Fangtides?" Meklavar asked.

"Rival assassin group." He started to fight an Empire galran and soon enough Meklavar and Korhan had their hands busy with their own oppressors.

"Rival? Does that mean you're part of an organization?" Meklavar shouted over her shoulder while she swung her axe at an elf.

"Of course I'm part of an organization!" One of the Fangtides was headed towards Meklavar but Pike whipped out his lance in time to cut him off. He narrowly dodged a knife to his throat with a pained grunt. His barely healed wounds were already slowing him down and he feared he would only become a burden to his teammates at this rate. He reared back his weapon and released a blast of lightning through the thrust of his lance, creating a clean line that caused a dozen to collapse to the ground. His eyes found a path for them as a wild idea passed his mind.

"Guys, follow me!" He grabbed Meklavar's arm for good measure before he dashed down the street and into an alleyway, Korhan following closely behind as he parried off some attackers. Pike began jumping and climbing his way up towards the rooftops, turning around to help Meklavar up at the parts where it was too difficult.

"Pike, you know we can't jump like-"

"I know, shut up and I'll remind you to thank me if we live through this." He held down the butt of his lance for her to grab and pulled her up to the next ledge, doing the same for Korhan. With some strained effort, the three of them made it up to the brick red rooftops of the city and overlooked the madness that spread throughout the streets like a flood. "There was no way we would have gotten through those homicidal crowds. Up here we can find our teammates faster." He started running across the rooftops and the two elves followed behind him, looking down into the streets as they passed.

"Oh that's not good," Korhan said somberly as they neared the city's center.

"That's druid magic, right?" Pike asked, staring at the vibrant purple arcs of lightning with dread.

"The one and the same."

"Wait, we have the Empire, rebels, an assassin organization, and the Druids here?!" Meklavar asked.

"Seems like it," Pike said somberly.

"What exactly is going on??"

"Valayun!"

"What?"

"Valayun!" Pike stopped, causing the others to halt as well as he pointed to the archer. "I don't see anyone else nearby, but let's regroup with her."

"How about you get her and bring her back up to the rooftops?" Meklavar suggested. "Korhan and I are safer up here and we'll find everyone else faster this way. You're the one who can get up and down with ease."

Pike wanted to argue that he didn't want to leave her side but she had a point and her plan was logical. "Alright," he answered hesitantly. "You can yell directions to me, I'll try to tune in to your voice over the madness down there."

She nodded. "We'll start to head closer to the center of town."

He took a deep inhale before departing, leaping down to ledges and other precarious lips of architecture until he landed on the ground and ran towards Valayun, slashing at anyone who tried to intervene.

Her brows rose when she saw him. "Pike!"

"Where are the others? Meklavar's on the rooftops with Korhan, we're regrouping there." He took her arm and started towards an alleyway where there were less people.

"Korhan?" Valayun shook her head, realizing now was not the time. "Thunder and Jiro split from us this morning but I saw Jiro only a moment ago. I'm afraid I've lost Block entirely."

"It's alright, follow me." He took the lead climbing up to the roof, giving her a hand when necessary. When they reached the top he looked out at the crowds below for the sorcerer donned in gold and green and the paladin in his armor that reminded him of Alfor's. Sure enough, Jiro wasn't far from where he found Valayun. "I'm going to get Jiro, keep an eye out for Block and Thunder on your way to Meklavar and Korhan."

"I'll try to offer aerial support if you need it," she offered, notching an arrow at the ready.

Pike gave her a nod before running across rooftops until he was closer to the paladin. He made his way down into the masses, striking blows with his lance as he fought his way through. When he called out the paladin's name he turned his head towards him, finishing off the fight with his opponent before striding over. "Jiro, we're regrouping on the roof and we can leave as soon as we find Block and Thunder. Do you know where they are?"

"Leave? We can't leave these people in their time of need!"

"Jiro, I know you mean well," he began but he was cut off with a yelp as an assassin tackled him to the ground. He wrestled with her for a brief moment before an arrow suddenly lodged through her throat. His widened eyes followed the angle of the fletching to see Valayun on a nearby rooftop. "I know you mean well," he continued as he stood up, "but we can't handle these odds. If we stay some of us will die, or worse."

"What's worse than dying?"

"Oh I'm sure you can use your imagination." Pike rolled his eyes before leading the paladin back up to the rooftops and meeting up with the rest of the group. They spread around looking for their sorcerer and ranger, heading closer to the center of the city where the worst of the fight raged, and Pike's heart skipped a beat when he found both of them cornered in an alleyway by a druid. Block was fighting them off the best he could since Thunder's blades were not nearly as effective against magic.

Pike moved quickly, traveling from rooftop to rooftop with ease and jumping his way down to land behind the druid cornering his teammates. He transformed his lance back into the silver band around his index finger and instead made a couple hand signs to summon several magical chains from the ground. They snaked around the druid and arced back into the cobblestone, pinning them down. Thunder rushed forward and swiftly took care of the enemy with one of his blades before they could get back up.

"You're alive," Thunder greeted dully.

"Barely."

"Watch out!" Block shouted before casting a shielding spell that blocked an oncoming attack with a loud clash. Pike's eyes widened when he saw what nearly hit them - a druid's hands were held up, controlling two halves of brightly glowing purple cuffs. He felt his heart fall into his stomach, his muscles tensing into near paralysis when he understood the situation.

Pike barely broke out of his trance in time to cast his own barrier spell that surrounded him and Thunder in pillars of red light before the druid struck again. Block was too far away fighting another druid for Pike to include him in the protective spell. With each blast the barrier weakened, the red light slowly fading from its vibrancy.

"They're surrounding us," Thunder warned from Pike's backside, observing the two additional druids who approached and summoned their own sets of ominously vibrant collars. "Can you teleport us out of here?" "Afraid not," Pike admitted with a terse sigh. "I'm low on chakra - I could probably teleport myself but taking someone else takes a lot of out me. Where's Rover?? Can't he come and grab us?"

"He was badly injured in the fight," he uttered. "I… don't know if he's okay."

"Cheese…" They were running out of options and his protective spell was wearing down fast. "You ready to fight the old fashioned way?"

"It's the only way I know, idiot."

"Oh, right." Pike summoned his lance again before the barrier dissipated, leaving the two of them vulnerable to the druid's attacks. Both of them lunged into the fight, blades fighting against the onslaught of cuffs curving relentlessly towards their necks.

Suddenly he heard Meklavar screaming his name from the rooftops.

And then pain was thrust against the left side of his neck, knocking him to the ground.

Pike hit the cobblestone with a gasp as the magic wrapped and sealed around his neck. He tried to pull himself up to his feet but the collar drained what little energy he had left. He could barely hear anything over the ringing in his ears but the nightmare was released from his neck temporarily and he felt like he was gasping for air after breaking the surface of the water he was drowning in.

Thunder was distracted by his comrade's pain and inevitably fell to the same fate. Block kept trying to break the collars but the druids were too many and too persistent. He could no longer help now that two druids were attacking him with elemental spells but the sorcerer continually tried to release the dark magic around his teammates' necks as he fought off his aggressors.

One of the druids conjured a swirling black portal upon the ground as Pike and Thunder struggled against the electrifying surges that left them depleted, gasping and groaning on their hands and knees. In a last attempt before the darkness swallowed them whole, Pike used all his energy to get Block's attention.

"Block!!" When Block's dark brown eyes met his terrified blues, Pike called out his final plea as one of the druids kicked Thunder into the obsidian portal. "Leave us! Please, protect her!"

Do what I can't…

Block's face fell, the horror of the situation setting his stomach into knots. As the druid's foot met Pike's shoulder, Block offered his friend a pained nod as promise before Pike was kicked into the void and swallowed into oblivion.

"I'm so sorry you guys…"

#pikelavar #pikelavar fic #plance #plance fic #voltron dnd au #voltron au #plance au #monsters and mana au #dnd au #vld fic #voltron fic #plance au fic #chapters #defenders of aurita

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the-coranic-jinx · 2 years ago

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My take on altean Pidge

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dampkiiwi · 3 years ago

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Voltron Wingfic AU where everyone has wings similar to that of real birds and are able to bring them in and out of their body (although it’s uncomfortable and maybe painful). Lance hasn’t shown the team his wings yet until one mission where he was the only one who could save Pidge from dying, revealing that he was born with bat wings instead of bird wings.

People also inherited certain traits and habits of their birds, Lance can comfortably sleep upside down, use echolocation, fly in multiple directions, is able to eat a shit ton, and can fly solely using muscles with no air.

Upon learning about his wings they also learn many things about him, one of them being how he has the habit of licking the fur on his wings to groom them and that he’s been under feeding himself :0 this could be both an angst and fluff fic ^-^

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adobedragon · 2 years ago

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No more than an arm’s length above her the air shimmered and Pidge flinched instinctively at a sudden, small gust of wind. Jeweled eyes winked at her and she, along with several people around her, gasped in delight. A gold fire-lizard, the miniature of mighty Ramoth on the sands, had just emerged from between and hovered for a few heartbeats, little wings pushing a small breeze onto Pidge’s face.

Turning, the little creature soared over the crowd, her passing noted by other humans and a scattering of other fire-lizards perched on shoulders. As of late, fire-lizards had become the accessory of choice for Lord Holders and other people of influence. The little gold aimed for a cluster of dragonriders including F’lar and Lessa, Benden’s Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, where she settled on the shoulders of a man who was likely F’nor, Benden’s Wing-second. Pidge had never seen any of the trio before, but Lessa’s fierce dark beauty contained in a diminutive frame was unmistakable.

Laughter, light but echoing in the vast cavern, rang out.

Seated with a cluster of other dragonriders in the tiers almost opposite her location, a lanky young man grinned goofily at another rider, that one dark and heavy-set. Hands waving, he carried on telling some tale. Something familiar about him drew her attention and she realized he was the rider of the large blue dragon seen earlier. Bared of flight cap and googles, his short hair was the warm brown of klah.

The grin faded from the young man’s tanned face as his gaze swept to the left. Pidge followed his line of sight, landing on L’tor, rider of bronze Orianth. The elder dragonrider arched an elegant, snow white eyebrow at the younger dragonrider, his face passive, but the meaning clear. Quelled, the blue rider’s shoulders hunched and he affected a serious mien although it didn’t seem to fit his face properly.

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fuckthisshitimin · 3 years ago

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For the soulmate requests: 44. “You are deaf until you meet your soulmate, whose voice is the first thing you hear.” - with Plance 💚💙

A voice like water

Pidge always could hear, as long as she remembered. Sometimes you would hear her say “yes, I’m a genius like that” or “I don’t need to find another person, I’m enough for myself already”, but she knows it’s not that simple. Nothing ever is. Every thing in this world has an explanation, and she is determined to find hers.

And when she thinks deeply, so deeply she isn’t sure if she is thinking of dreaming, she remembers a voice that sings like the rain, that cries like the waves and that screams like a waterfall.

She learned to use a radio when she was four, to disassemble one when she was five and by the time she was six she could built a simple radio monitor from scratch. Her father enrolled her in piano lessons, and when she ponders it, she realizes she does not know a world without music, and she suddenly feels sorry for all those who haven’t met their soulmate yet, or the fewer who will never hear, even if they do meet the Right One.

After radios, she moved on to bicycles, and then cars, and later again, computers. The mechanics are similar. You just have to understand their logic.

The logic behind the water-like voice is still unfound to her though, and as much as her mother can say it was but a childhood dreams, one of those who feel so real the memory forget it was a dream, she knows there is more to it. And she will prove it.

Pidge is fifteen, and if she learnt anything from TV shows and coming-of-age novels, it is that it’s a great age to start a life-changing adventure. So she packs her computer, her portable radio, her headphones, cold chocolate milk, peanut butter cookies and cucumber salad, she writes a note to her brother and parents, and she rides her bike in the middle of the summer night.

She knows the country roads, because this is where she grew up, and it feels weird to think this is her way of moving on, when she is really just riding back to where she was a child.

The sea looks agitated, even from the distance, and as the wind makes it so hard to pedal, Pidge knows she is close.

Iodine fills the air, and the wind that hits her cheeks is salty. She pedals harder, one last effort before her goal.

Beneath her waves crash into the cliff, violent and angry, so strong the splashes almost reach her feet, and she breathes in, and out, and in again. And she screams. This is all she can do with all the voice she has, scream into the wind, hoping something would answer, but the wind swallows the echoes of her outburst, her bursting laughter when she thinks she may not have thought this through correctly.

But it’s all too familiar. The cliff and the sea, the waters, too muddy, too dangerous to even think about swimming in, the pointy rocks and the salt on her lips.

This is where she gained the ability to hear. She is certain of that.

No human could swim in those waters. The numerous deaths here testify of that.

So when you rule out the impossible, you have to acknowledge that the improbable might not be so silly, that every odd thing is worth investigating, so she sits there, her legs swinging into the void, eyes focused on the sea.

“Do you believe in mermaids?”

She asks the sea, but no answer comes. She opens her backpack, digging out her radio and a recording device. She sets it up, adjusting it to the wind, trying to pick up on something slightly out of the ordinary. Anything would do.

But she knows experiments take time. Something she might call abnormal today might be quite usual for this place, and something she would not find worth noticing today might prove to be significant later. She’s been waiting for fifteen years. She can wait another day. Another week, another month, even another year.

“It’s dangerous here. Especially at night.”

Pidge already went through her chocolate milk and peanut butter cookies. All that’s left is the cucumber salad, but it’s cold and the strong wind has her aching for something warm and filling.

At first, she thinks she has been imagining the voice, but the graph on her computer screen is formal, there was something. The wind makes every sound confusing, and determining its origin hard, so she squints harder at the sea. The waters look black now, hardly reflecting the clouds in a mesmerizing dance.

“Oh, right, most young humans can’t hear.”

Something lights up behind her, and she turn to see a ghostly silhouette. White hair, long and curly, are playing with the wind, and a kind face, hardly lit by the oil lamp they are carrying, looks at Pidge. It’s probably the prettiest person Pidge has ever seen. She sits there, incapable of moving, mesmerized, until the woman signs with one hand.

Are you lost?

“Who are you?”

The woman jumps slightly, visibly taken aback, but her tone is calm when she answers. Now, Pidge can hear she has some sort of accent.

“I am Allura. I live in the house just a bit higher. You shouldn’t stay here; the cliff is dangerous when it’s dark.”

Pidge gathers her stuff, putting them back in her bag before throwing it over her shoulder. It’s hard to tell where the cliff stops, indeed.

“Well, you’re here yourself.”

“I saw you from the distance. My dear, you’re so small. How old are you?”

Pidge just shrugs, walking to her bike to get it up. “Old enough. It was nice meeting you, Allura.”

“You are shivering like crazy. Where are you going?”

“There’s a hotel a bit more in the land, I’ll sleep there.”

“Nonsense. It’s miles away, and the wind isn’t stopping any time soon. I have a spare bedroom; you can sleep there.”

Pidge squints at her, looking for anything suspicious. This person, this Allura, is the perfect image of purity, no malevolent will comes out of her, and that is enough to make her suspicious. “Why are you offering?”

“Do you want an honest response?”

“I guess?”

“Because you look like hell, you’re obviously freezing and very young, and I’m pissed at your parents for letting that happen. Also, my wife is away for the night and she left so much to eat in the fridge I wonder if she knows I do not have such an appetite.”

Pidge blinks, taking in the answer. It doesn’t sound like a lie, and honestly, Pidge wants to believe her. She wants to believe her so hard it’s unnatural. She’s not a naturally trusting person. The lady crosses her arms, quirking a defiant eyebrow. “But since you’re so obviously a minor, I could also call the police to escort you home.”

At least, if Pidge ends up killed and eaten by this lady, now she can say it wasn’t her fault for trusting the wrong person. She shrugs, keeping a firm hold on her bicycle as they walk towards Allura’s house. And Pidge should have known, for there is only one house whose windows face this peculiar cliff. She should have recognized the path they were taking, even through the dark, because the door Allura opens is one Pidge has walked through all her early years. The inside is warm, there is a fire lit and the kitchen smells like hot cocoa.

“That’s the only thing I can make,” Allura says, “because it is the only thing my uncle could make, and he taught me everything I know. So, I have soup, or fried bananas and rice. Oh, that should be maafe.”

“How long have you lived here?” Pidge takes off her jacket in the entrance, taking in the new decoration. The stairs are the same, carpeted in green velvet-like fabric. Her family pictures on the wall are obviously gone, replaces with a painting of the sea, and multiple vinyl album covers.

“Almost six years. Rice and bananas it is. Help yourself to hot chocolate, I’ll make your bed.”

“I can make it myself. Which bedroom?”

“It’s just beneath the roof, up the stairs you’ll find a–”

“Door that looks like a closet door,” Pidge cuts, remembering. She used to sleep there as a child, too. She felt like her bedroom was a secret hide-out no one would ever know about. She felt like Anne-Frank, except she wouldn’t die at the end. “but it’s really another set of stairs. I used to live here. A long, long time ago.”

“You’re a little young to look this nostalgic.”

“It is what half-forgotten memories coming back to life will make you feel, right?”

“I guess. I’ll set the table near the fireplace. Don’t sneak around for too long or the food’ll get cold.”

“So, what are you running away from?”

It comes out of the blue. They have been enjoying their dinner with vague small-talk about this place and shared knowledge of this house, and when the hot chocolate – that they finally decided to have in place of dessert – came to the table, Allura seemingly decided she was done beating around the bush. Pidge, on the other end, was fine with vague conversations.

“The inescapable march of time, death and boredom.”

“I was hoping for something a little more… personal.”

Hey face is inquisitive, and Pidge recognizes the burning curiosity in Allura’s eyes for she felt it more than once. Rarely towards someone, but still.

“I’m not running from anything. I’m looking for someone.”

“Did you lose your father in a tragic accident but can’t help thinking he’s still out there?” That’s a very wild and very specific take on who Pidge might be looking for, and she shakes her head, not quite sure what she should answer. Allura sighs, before smiling gently. “Sorry, I think I’m just projecting. In the astral way, you know.”

“You are the weirdest person I ever met. And I don’t mean it in a bad way.”

“My beliefs might not be common, but I am a very rational person.”

“A rational person that believes in the irrational?”

“If you can’t explain something, doesn’t mean it has no explanation. You probably just haven’t found it yet.”

“You’re a scientist.” That would explain how familiar the woman feels, even when she acts in a light-hearted way Pidge isn’t used to.

“I like to think I am, yes. If by scientist you mean someone who craves to understand how the strings of this world and others are pulled, I definitely am.”

Pidge smiles, and the woman answers fondly. Pidge bites her lip, feeling the urge to say something. She doesn’t know if she’s impressed by Allura’s wit or if this is what developing a crush feels like, but she doesn’t want to stop talking. So she drops her mini-bomb, the one she’s been keeping preciously secret.

“I’m looking for my soulmate, and I think they might not be human.”

She stops to study the elder’s reaction, but Allura’s smile just grows wider. She doesn’t look surprised nor phased. She says: “So, you are a scientist conducting an experiment yourself?”

“I like to think I am.”

Allura agreed to lend her the room in exchange of updates on her “soulmate experiment” and a little help in the kitchen, since her wife called to say she would be away for longer than expected. It is weird, to be back here, but Pidge can only see Allura’s openness as a sign this is how it’s supposed to be. Another not-so-rational belief. It looks like Pidge is collecting them as of now.

She spent the day after the one she arrived at the cliff, registering every sound she could, and the next one comparing the samples and going through her apps to find the best way to classify it.

After her long days, she comes home to Allura, help cook dinner. She’s not a very good cook either so they stick to basic and quick meals, but after them they always drink hot chocolate before the chimney and talk about their day. Pidge learnt that Allura is a fantasy writer, but that she doesn’t consider her novels as much as fantasy but more as what ifs, possibilities this world isn’t currently exploring but might be someday, or could have been. They have a routine starting to settle, and Pidge is good with routine. This is the way she’s the more efficient. She thinks better if she knows what she is doing with her time, precisely.

It is not much, but after a week, Pidge thinks she is picking up a pattern that she can’t find examining feeds from other cliffs of this coast, or feeds from totally different coasts. She finds similar patterns on the internet, mostly around beaches that have the reputation to be haunted by dead sailors, or meeting places between humans and merpeople. Allura asks her if she believes in mermaids. She answers you can’t prove that something doesn’t exist, and what you can’t prove wrong, you can’t rule out.

At the end of the second week, Pidge hears something. Not on her screen, not on any of her devices, but with her own ears, something so familiar she cries on the cliff, unable to stop staring at the waters in hope of seeing something, to no use.

That day, Allura asks her the same question again. And Pidge answers she thinks she does.

Her headphones on her ears, eyes on the screen and fingers typing restlessly, she compares the feed from yesterday to what her monitor is picking up on at the moment. It’s gone. Whatever she heard, it’s not here today, and she doesn’t know if she has the patience to wait another two weeks. She said she could wait, but obviously, she had been lying to herself.

She doesn’t hear footsteps, but she sees them on the graph, and she assumes it’s Allura before a voice talks.

“You have a very peculiar way to listen to the sea.”

She jolts, turning around to see a man she is sure she has never met before. Yet, he feels familiar.

“Christ, don’t sneak on people like that!”

“What are you doing?”

“Tracking alien signals. Who are you?”

“An alien.”

She takes off her headphones, getting up to look at him better. He’s so taller than her it’s upsetting. She doesn’t know why exactly. But she’s upset. And curious. And she feels like her ears are bleeding. Her blood is pounding in her head. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

He’s smiling, and there is a storm inside her that is so sudden she can’t find it in her to hide it. He’s here. It’s her home. He looks about her age, so she probably knows him somehow. “I think I do. How long have you been here? I lived there,” she points at her old house, “did we go to school together or something?”

“I don’t think so. I’d remember a face like yours.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Was that unclear?”

“Are you friends with Mario? If you are it’s not fucking funny,” she sighs, gathering her stuff. The sun is setting, she might as well go home for today. She’s got enough material.

“Wait, wait, what makes you think that? Who’s Mario?” He grabs her arm, and she fights back immediately. He looks surprised when he lets go, then upset, then sheepish. “I’m sorry. I just. I didn’t mean to chase you from your alien-tracking spot.”

She squints a little, then sits back. She doesn’t expect him to sit with her, but he does.

“If you’re not here to make fun of me, what do you want?”

“I was trying to flirt with you, but since that’s not working I was hoping we could be friends. I’m Lance.”

She looks at him, and his face is too close, yet not close enough for her to decipher the look in his eyes. She doesn’t get it. Yet she doesn’t want him to leave. He is a disturbance, but foremost, an anomaly. Anomaly are worth exploring. “Why flirt with me when you have a soulmate already?”

“Do you ever not ask questions?”

“Nope. They found a line in my code that said if(goinToShutUpOrNot) { Not(); }. So?”

“What makes you think I found my soulmate?”

“You’re talking. Duh.”

“Oh, right. But no. I, uh, actually lost her.” His eyes fly towards the see, and she nods. But that’s probably not the answer he was expecting. She joins him in gazing at the sea.

“Sorry.”

And he just chuckles, she can’t see his eyes. His shoulders go up for a sec. He doesn’t look tense. Just nostalgic. It’s a subtle expression, but the second he looks at her again, it’s gone and replaces by a playful smile. “Does that mean I get the right to flirt with you?”

“No,” she answers without even thinking. He shrugs, extending his hands towards the waters, forming a rectangle with his fingers. Like a photographer or something. His back is straight, but his legs move freely, and the way he moves is hard to predict.

And the way he looks. Now that he’s so close, it’s obvious. That there is something off about him, about his whole physical being. His skin is too smooth and his eyes are too deep, like an abyss in the middle of the ocean, and… “Damn, your ears are so pointy.”

He laughs it off, and his fingers move to his ears in a reflective manner. “It’s to hear you better, child.”

“I’m no child,” she answers in a beat. He turns towards her. “Your eyes are so deep.”

He seems pleased that she’s willing to play his little game, he goes: “It’s to look at you better, young lady.”

“I’m no lady either,” she says this time, and she looks at him to find something else. His hands are big, but she doesn’t want to know what he would answer to that. His skin is smooth, but that would be tricky of her. His shoulders, his hair, his legs, his neck. “Your neck… What are those, scars?”

“They’re gills. It’s to breathe underwater, soulmate.”

“I’m no—” she starts, but she can’t finish. Gills? The worst part is it makes sense. She has spent a crazy amount of time wondering if her soulmate could be a merperson. But that? No. No, that is crazy. She is up in a swift movement, jumping far from him. “What the hell? What. The actual. Hell. You’re not a merman. Mermen don’t exist.”

“Hey! You said to Allura you believed in us!”

“Well, saying something and seeing it are two very different things! Wait. You know Allura. You lied to me!”

“I never said I didn’t know her.”

“Which means you could still be lying. Fuck, that’s such an elaborate way of messing with me.”

“Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not—” she stops herself. Of course she is freaking out. How could she not freak out? She is being told that she indeed has a soulmate, and that he is a merman. How messed up is that? And her mother is definitely not going to believe her. Oh shit. “You’re lying. You’re definitely lying. It has to be it.”

“I’ll prove you wrong. Or, I’ll prove your weirdest theory right, to be precise.”

If he sings. If he just sings, she could recognize his voice. She could know he is lying. Or she could know he is indeed the reason she’s been able to ear for so long. He opens his mouth. Takes a deep breath. And jumps off the cliff.

She runs towards the edge, staring at the void beneath her feet, yelling from the top of her lungs “What the fuck?” And then his head pops out, and she almost wants to jump too, just to drown him. But then he swims, and jumps, and there is no way she can mistake anything resembling skin to the shiny blue scales that cover what should be his legs. “OK! You win, you’re a merman! Now, how do you plan on getting back up? What happened to your clothes?”

He laughs, and in this form, his voice is different. It’s tangled in the waves and the wind, it sounds like sparkling water. He shouts, so she can hear: “I did not think this through!”

She groans, before yelling back: “I can stomach that my soulmate is a merman, but do you have to be an idiot, too?”

Relief is washing over her, cutting her legs with tiredness, and yet somehow she can’t stop screaming. He’s idiotic and loud, he reminds her of her brother, in some way, and that is something that would piss her off.

The sound of a suitcase rolling, a door opening. Romelle sighs as soon as she enters the house, cracking her neck and calling. “Allura? Are you home?”

“In the living room!”

She puts her suitcase near the stairs, taking off her coat to join her wife in the couch. “I was away for weeks, you could at least come and greet me.”

“I’ll make yout hot chocolate. But first, look at that.”

“I can’t see, it’s too far. Is it Lance I hear?”

“Exactly. He found his soulmate.”

“The human girl?”

Allura nods, and Romelle closes her eyes focusing on her ears. Their voices are carried by the wind. She can hear them screaming at each other.

“So,” she asks Allura, “What do you think?”

“I think they will get along quite well.”

#sorry it took forever #i started over five times because i couldn't pick an idea #i hope you like it #plance #pidgeance #voltron #voltron fic #pidge gunderson #lance mcclain #katie holt #flirtyrobot #merlance #julance2021 #i know it's just a coincidence if it fits but still #asks #soulmate requests #soulmate au

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anchoredtether · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: Perceiving Freedom

Chapter: 8/?

Author: AnchoredTether

Rating: T [graphic violence, dark themes]

Pairings: Pidge | Katie Holt / Lance [Plance]

Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, this is uhhh…. kind of a Shrek AU, Yeah you heard me right, also kind of a Pikelavar AU, Alternate Universe, Shifter Lance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Dragons, Princess Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Angst, because you know me I gotta have it, Keith & Lance Friendship, Allura & Pidge Friendship, Pidge is literally a Disney Princess that breaks all the stereotypes, and Lance is an oblivious dork as usual, this is such crack I am so sorry I couldn’t pass it up, also non-sexual nudity, because shifters, fun times for Pidge

Lance has a frustrating problem and Lord Morvak has offered him an unusual solution out of the very mess he imposed upon him. His once peaceful swamp of exile is now crawling with obnoxious fantasy misfits, he has a giant wolf that won’t leave but also won’t bother conversing with him even though it can talk, and there’s a cult that’s out for his head on a pike.

But slaying a dragon and freeing a princess trapped in a castle should be an easy fix, right?

Read over here at Ao3 >>>

#plance #flirtyrobot #plance au #plance fic #vld lance #vld pidge #shifter lance #fantasy au #shrek au #plance fanfic #my fanfiction

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numbah34 · 4 years ago

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Wolf’s Bane

That she’d gone out on a night like tonight; sheer lunacy. Practically a death wish.

For months the town had been up in arms about the wolf, setting curfews, nerves on edge. It hadn’t taken long for the more superstitious of the villagers to put it together.

Attacks only happened on the full moon.

At first it had only been livestock; a pig gone missing, puffs of sheep’s wool scattered about a field, the feathers of an errant goose floating on the breeze… The thief, so it appeared, was thorough, leaving practically no trace behind.

Until two months ago. Old Man Myzax had gotten sick of his livestock being taken. He had armed himself with his shotgun and gone hunting for the thief. The next morning, for the first time… evidence had been found.

All in all, Lance felt it had been a terrible time for his family to have moved to the village. In the year they had lived there, people had been generally cordial to them, but when the attacks had started almost a month later, well… that was just plain bad luck. Some seeds of distrust had apparently been sewn.

The town gossips seemed to have gone into overtime. Perhaps it was his family’s slight resemblance to the clan of gypsies that lived not far from the village? They weren’t at all related, but there were those that would take one look at them, see “different,” and believe whatever they wanted. Lance’s father and mother had scoffed and rolled their eyes.

Unfortunately, there would always be people like that, his father had said.

Be your best self and give them no reason to doubt you, his mother had said.

The only family in town that offered their friendship freely and proffered no judgment was the Holts. Scientifically-minded to a fault, they simply refused to believe what the gossip mongers in town threw out, and chose to get to know their new neighbors instead.

They had two children themselves, who also took an immediate liking to Lance and his brothers and sisters. While his older siblings got on with the older son, Matt, for Lance there was no one more interesting than the younger daughter, Katie. When no one else in the small schoolhouse would pay him any mind except to glance at him with their parents’ unfounded suspicions, she had sought him out and claimed him as a friend right away.

More often than her given name she was called “Pidge,” a nickname she had received from her brother when she was a baby. Someone had commented that she was just a “pinch of a girl” (as she was so small); later, Matt had told someone else that she was just a “pidge of a girl.” The nickname had stuck.

Pidge hadn’t minded. She liked different. She thought different. She, herself, was different.

And Lance found that he also liked different.

Pidge had been bothered by the attacks; more and more each month, as more theories were discussed and things began to take a turn for the… supernatural. Lance thought it might be because she couldn’t explain the supernatural with science. Pidge had said that was part of it.

Another part was how Lance was being treated. People would say things under their breath, mutter prayers as he and Pidge would pass them in town. There were even a couple busybodies who took it upon themselves to visit Pidge’s parents and suggest that they shouldn’t let their daughter associate with the likes of Lance.

Sam and Colleen Holt had politely but firmly shown them the door.

While all of that was bad, the worst was after Old Man Myzax’s… incident. That’s when some people had started throwing things as well. He and Pidge never saw who did it, but it was hurtful. Especially when no one would stand up for him.

No one but Pidge.

More than once he had cried, Pidge’s arms wrapped around him, tears rolling down her own cheeks at her best friend’s despair. He had talked about running away. Pidge pointed out that would only hurt himself and the people who care about him. Not to mention the naysayers would all assume they were right all along.

And she could not abide that.

He had buried his face in her small shoulder, and she had reached a tentative hand up and stroked his hair until the fresh wave of tears had subsided.

She was strong for him when he needed her to be, but it seemed like it was taking its toll.

Every month when people were fretting about the latest attack, she seemed more and more tired. Lance was as well.

The fate of Farmer Myzax had exacerbated it. Pidge finally gave voice to everyone’s dark mutterings.

A werewolf.

Attacks only happened on the full moon, right?

Maybe… maybe someone should catch it. Or…

Lance had stayed silent, watching her with horror.

Why… how could she suggest such a thing?

Perhaps someone should try silver bullets.

Pidge… what are you saying?

As the night of the full moon approached, Pidge seemed to grow more and more resolute. Someone had to catch the wolf.

Fear laced together with Lance’s concern. Why…? What was she planning?

The eve of the full moon, Matt had come riding over, frantic. They couldn’t find Pidge. He was worried she had gone out on her own.

Lance’s parents hadn’t seen her. They promised to keep watch, in case she turned up at their house. They had glanced worriedly at each other. They wished there was something more they could do.

What was she thinking?

Lance had excused himself to go get ready for bed. Upon reaching his room, he had stuffed clothes under his quilt, snuffed out the candle, and quietly snuck out the window.

He ran into the wooded area that surrounded town, bordering all the farmlands. He carried no torch; he wouldn’t need it as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, lit only by the pale silver moon hanging innocently in the sky.

Innocent. Innocence. They had talked about those very words just earlier.

What was she thinking?

The woods were dangerous on a night like tonight.

Lance ran as quietly as he could, save for the twigs snapping and dry leaves crackling under his feet. He had to find her…

He had to find her before…

Before something else did.

And it would be his fault. Because she was trying to protect him.

Pidge was in no way stupid, but this was by far the stupidest thing she could have done.

He slowed to a walk as he neared the area he’d been running towards. Countless days of exploring the forest told him he was just outside the farmland belonging to the late Old Man Myzax. This would be one of the first areas anyone looking for a wolf would check.

His breath was quick, and he tried to quiet it. He needed his ears to be keen. In the dim light of the full moon, he would rely on them to hear the wolf before he could see it.

He didn’t have to wait long. A howl split the quiet of the night, sending a chill through his very blood. He turned his head slowly from side to side, eyes wide, willing himself to see better. Where could she be?

A puff of hot air hit him on the back of the neck. He jumped away, turning to find a pair of molten eyes, burning an unnatural gold, pupils narrowed to dangerous slits and focusing solely on him. Slowly, with a calculated grace, the monster emerged from the shadows.

The werewolf was impossibly big, far bigger than Lance could have imagined. It bared its teeth, stepping toward him, a low growl escaping its lips.

He took a few steps backward, then felt his heel snag on a hidden root. Unable to catch his balance, he toppled, landing hard on his tailbone. He yelped as the pain shot up his back, momentarily closing his eyes on reflex. He jerked them back open nearly as quickly, and found the wolf had moved closer… much closer.

He stared into the snarling, slathering muzzle. He could not believe his luck.

The light brown fur of the wolf glistened in the patch of moonlight. The bushy tail swished side to side in agitation.

Lance swallowed, forcing the fear down. If he was going to have any hope of surviving this encounter, something told him he would need to maintain his cool. He would only get one shot at this.

Keeping his eyes glued to the wolf’s, he slowly extended his hand and spoke softly. “Shh…” He worked to keep his breathing even, even as he saw the wolf tense on its haunches, preparing to spring.

—————Many, many moons ago...——————

“Mama! Mamaaaaa!” A six-year-old Lance had come running, sprinting for his mother. His mother caught him, letting out a soft “oof” as her youngest son hurled himself into her, hugging her tightly. She took in the panic in his eyes, then scooped him up in a protective hug and carried him to their old, creaky rocking chair.

She rocked back and forth, smoothing his hair with a practiced hand and murmuring quietly to soothe him.

When his gasps and sobs had calmed so that the rocking chair’s rickety squeaks were the loudest sound in the room, she gently pulled him back and wiped the stray tears from his cheeks.

“What’s wrong, mijo?” she asked.

“M-Marco and Luis,” Lance hiccuped. “They told me they got bit by a werewolf, and that they were gonna turn into werewolves, and that they were gonna bite me and turn me into one, too.” His eyes widened. “And they showed me the teeth marks!”

Lance’s mother looked nonplussed. “Were the marks on their arms?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” Lance gasped, then looked at his mama warily. “…you’re not one, too, are you?”

“No, mijo, of course not. Werewolves are just an old tale. Your brothers bit their own arms and were just playing with you.” She frowned and muttered, “…though why they thought that kind of teasing would be okay, they know what an imagination you have…”

Her expression softened as she looked her youngest in the eyes and said, “Werewolves are creatures that exist in stories. But even if your brothers were wolves, there is an old werewolf story that’s my favorite. Would you like to hear it?”

He nodded, eyes wide with interest more than fear now. She continued.

“They say that if a werewolf is called by name by a person who loves and trusts them truly, the wolf’s curse will be broken and they will turn back to human.” She smiled. “You love your brothers, don’t you? You could just turn them back.”

Lance looked thoughtful. “I love my brothers… but I don’t know if I trust them not to bite me.”

Lance’s mother laughed. “Trust is an important thing! It’s a good thing that I trust that you are all good children.” She gave him a tight hug and added, “And it’s a good thing werewolves aren’t real.”

——————————

He spoke firmly, confidently. “It’s time to come home, Katie… Pidge.”

Werewolves, Lance had found, were very much real. And as his best friend sprang at him, he closed his eyes and opened his arms and hoped with all he had that, even if his mama had been wrong about werewolves existing, that her story had at least been right.

Because he trusted Pidge.

Completely.

…And he loved her.

Whole-heartedly.

How could he not?

The large, furry body he had expected to slam into his chest never came; instead, he felt a pair of lean arms wrap around his shoulders as he caught a slight form in his own. He embraced her tightly, relieved that his speculation had been proven correct.

She shuddered as he set her down, averting his eyes and removing his jacket to let her cover her modesty.

“Lance! What… Why… What are you doing here?” she trembled. “I could’ve… I could’ve…” Tears filled her hazel eyes, their shine a welcome change from the dangerous golden glow those same eyes had held moments earlier.

“But you didn’t.”

“But all those other times… and Mr. Myzax…”

“You couldn’t help it. It wasn’t you, it was the wolf.”

“But everyone… they all thought… they all think it’s you,” she half-whispered.

“Pidge.” He said.

“I thought if they caught me… I could save you. They’d know it wasn’t you.”

“They would’ve killed you,” he murmured, no doubt in his voice.

She looked at him, not saying anything, only meeting his gaze and looking resolute. He wasn’t saying anything she had not already figured.

He sighed and pulled her toward him, holding her snug against his chest. He rested his cheek on top of her head. She brought her arms up to encircle him and return the hug.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Pidge… don’t you know… I don’t want to be saved if it means living in a world without you.”

She pulled her head back and gazed up at him, the answer to her unspoken question in his eyes.

“Oh,” she said softly, stepping back. In the moonlight, Lance could just detect a faint blush coloring her cheeks. He smiled, and offered his hand.

“Let’s go home, Pidge.”

She took his hand and they started back in the direction of the Holt’s house. As they walked, she pondered for a moment, then finally voiced the question she’d had since she found herself being held in his grasp, the light of the once-dreaded full moon shining on her but no longer controlling her. “…Lance… How did you turn me back?”

He felt his cheeks color slightly and cleared his throat. “See, Pidge, there’s this old story about werewolves…”

This fic and art are part of the @langstron Halloween exchange. It was so fun participating! The fic will also be available on my ao3.

@sakarrie - Surprise! I was your gifter for the 2020 Langst Halloween Exchange! I hope you enjoyed your fic and art (I was a little extra, I couldn’t decide on just one😅). Happy Halloween! 🎃👻🐺

#34's art #34 writes #langstronexchange2020 #langsthalloween2020 #langst #plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #werewolf au #I couldn't decide between art or fic #SURPRISE I did both #I've been so excited to share this #I hope you enjoy it sakarrie!

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