#quick claw quick draw metronome is so fucking stupid

[i-am-so-normal-about-wildlife]

Man, I love galarian slowbro.

My man has the worst gambling problem known to man

[kinsbin]

Insecurities

Title: Insecurities Word Count: 2067 Ship: Cheshire/Alexys [Self Insert/Canon]

Summary: Alexys is no stranger to insecurities. Cheshire knows they are there. When one comes up between them that makes her more worried than normal, however, Cheshire is determined to say the right things to make her feel all the better. 

Author’s Note: A writing commission for @bad-blue-moon-rising! I hope you like it dear, it was super fun to write <33

Cheshire was a lot of things. At least, his many terrified and used ‘patients’ had told him that he was a lot of things somewhere in the lines of their dying breaths and maddening stupors. Words like ‘monster’ and ‘witch’ were thrown around quite commonly (which was ridiculous, he thought, because neither existed beyond the expenses of people’s minds) but none were accurate. He prefered terms like ‘eye opener’ or ‘leader’. Perhaps a synonym for someone who helped others through the vast wonderland of their thoughts by showing them that they were all mad, one way or another.

Alexys often called him ‘a fucking furry’ and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

To be honest, he didn’t know how to feel about Alexys as a whole. At least not the first time they had met one another. In his small, arid office that held the scent of incense and leather He had to admit that he was, perhaps, a bit infatuated with her. Her eyes shone like storms of defiance for his technique. Her hair  curled around her like fire that would burn him if he touched it. It was on the second time he considered touching it. What it would feel like between his fingertips. What her laugh would sound like if he could make her smile instead of glare as she did at him.

It was a stupid, foolish thing to think. Love at first sight didn’t exist. He had killed enough people who believed in such a stupid notion. He dared not believe it himself so readily. Despite this affirmation to himself, soft and firm in his head, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her throughout her treatment. She, as a patient, lasted longer than any others. His intern gave her a gaze of disbelief when she walked in time and time again, walking out after seeing Cheshire in the same state she normally was.

“Aren’t you going to fix her, Doctor?” He was asked often.

“In due time.” He would reply.

A stalling as he fell. He fell for everything and, unlike a true cat, he couldn’t land on his two feet.

Now, as they sat together in his office to kill time between patient visits, he ran his hand thoughtfully through her hair as he had gotten to do many times since they had been brought together romantically. His fingertips pawed at the stray strands, cat-like eyes distracted with prey-drive at the pieces that seemed to flit and float about more than usual. The urge to bat at them was resisted in favor of her scooting closer from where she sat on his desk, leaning into his touch as she sighed.

“Kitten?”

“What is it, dearest?”

The words left his lips so softly that it sent shivers up her spine. His nicknames, though harsh at times, were kind when he spoke them. Sweet and warm from his lips, Alexys nearly stumbled over what she had meant to say as her face flushed with the embarrassment of hearing someone refer to her so sweetly.

“Oh, n-nothing really I-” She laughed through her stutter as she tilted her head further into his gentle hand, “I was just...wondering what you were thinking about and…”

“And?” HIs prompt was accompanied by a quirked eyebrow, teasing smile hot on his lips as she averted her eyes from his face, one hand reaching up to chew softly at her nails before whispering, “Nothing. That’s it.”

The hand not stroking her hair reached out to grip at her hand, knowing the tell tale signs of embarrassment or anxiety showing itself within Alexys’ movements.  With his touch, her chattering teeth stopped moving. His smooth hands, slightly calloused with pointed nails that felt more like claws than anything else, helped to move the hand safely from the spot on her mouth and back down to her lap, where it fiddled with itself and the stray strings of her blue jeans instead. “We’ve talked about that,” Cheshire’s tone was chiding but no disappointed, “Now what’s on your mind?”

Her eyes flitted all over the place. To the walls of his therapy room and then to their floor. To the side of the desk and then to his chest, but, never to his eyes. The avoided looking up directly as if it were the plague. As if, by looking up at him, she would be admitting something that she did not want to admit. There was something itching in him. Like a flea biting at his fur or a stray piece of food propped unceremoniously within his teeth. Not knowing what was on her mind was frustrating beyond reason. When one knew everything on everyone’s mind, there came an expectancy of their thoughts. A knowledge and understanding.

With her, the world was white noise. He could not tell what that mind would come up with next. If he could get into it, perhaps, but...Perhaps part of him was afraid of ruining the mystery as well.

Her words came as he was lost in the thought of her, a whisper so soft that it wouldn’t move the stillest waters of a hidden lake.

“Why do you like me?”

The question made him stare longer at her, his gaze searching her own as he attempted to find any source of joke in her gaze. To find anything that would indicate that she was just kidding him. When he found nothing but the wide, honest stare of his favorite person begging for answers there was the smallest tinge of guilt he felt permeating his soul. Had he not been obvious enough in his affections? Surely he gave her everything she wanted in life...Was her anxiety talking to her again? Biting her mind in a way he could not fight it off? The thought made him bristle, but, he kept himself composed. The smile on his lips to her was genuine as his hand stopped playing with her hair. Instead it moved to cup her cheek in its palm, feeling the warmth her body irradiated.

“Now what kind of question is that?” He murmured to her, so close a speaking voice wasn’t necessary, “Surely you know?”

“I…” Alexys bit her lip and sighed softly, “Sometimes, I’m not sure if I do. Not because of you but...because I’m, well, me, I suppose? You’re-hah-you’re-” She gestured to him noncommittally with another soft guffaw, “You! And I’m me...Why spend your time with someone so not-extraordinary?”

“Not extraordinary? My dear,” He chuckled at the reasoning she had put forward, hand gently caressing her cheek as he moved up and off of the chair to his desk. When he came face to face with Alexys, he leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. The stubble of his facial hair scratched against her face, their lips colliding so closely that he could taste her words on his tongue. She tensed, startled at the sudden closeness the other offered, but soon relaxed into it. Her own kiss in return was hesitant and soft. She poured emotions into it while worrying about being too much. In an effort to show that it was never too much, that she was always allowed to pour the emotions she felt into the movement, he kissed her deeper.

It lasted what felt like minutes. The silence was measured only by the soft ticking of the metronome at the end of Cheshire’s office desk. It measured in beats the length of their love and the affection to which he attempted to put into it.

When he pulled away, he sighed against her lips. Alexys could smell the scent of mint from his toothpaste. It ghosted across her face and sent shivers down her spine. Shifting closer to the edge of the desk, as if trying to follow after his lips as he pulled away, she could only stare in shocked silence as the man before her brushed off his suit lackadaisical. After clearing it of dirt, he returned his hands to her face. They clutched either side of her head with meaning, making sure that she could not pull her eyes away from his own as he smiled.

“You are the single most extraordinary thing about this place,” His words were sincere in their whispers as he made his case to her, “Day after day, month after month, I meet person after person...Each one interesting, sure, but not fascinating. Nothing that would make me keep them around. Nothing that would draw me to them beyond a helpful tick of my clock or a dream within their own...but you?”

He pressed another kiss to her lips, this one quick and well-executed as he laughed, “You are still here. You have been here this whole time, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” She attempted to interrupt, “But-”

“But nothing,” He rebuttled with ease, pushing some of her hair behind hear ear as he leaned forward to kiss it. The feeling of his lips on her ear made Alexys gasp in surprise, screwing her eyes shut as her toes curled inside of her shoes. “You’d only be able to do that if you were extraordinary, like me. Which you are, so, it's only natural that we’re meant to be together don’t you think?”

When he pulled away, his smirk was self-satisfactory. He felt that he had done quite a good job explaining it to her, but when her unsure look persisted he felt his heart flatten only in the slightest. The words that curled against his throat made him feel awkward to say the least, admitting them out loud would be difficult...For her, though? He would try.

Cheshire coughed into his hand, avoiding her gaze as he used his free hand to play with the metronome nearby. Alexys watched him in awed silence as he opened up his lips again to speak, this time, the words almost flustered as he did so:

“I...Love you. I love you for you, and always will.”

The word ‘love’ fell awkwardly from his lips, as if he had forgotten how to pronounce it. Years of crushing the dreams of others, of helping them to forget love in favor of cathartic hatred towards things they had been hiding within themselves, had helped the word to fade from his memory. It was this girl, though, this single human who had brought it back into a meaningful definition in his life. Love wasn’t what his patients told him they had felt once in a while when they saw a pretty face, no.

Love was Alexys, sitting on his desk before him. Love was the heartbeat he got when she entered the room. The way he involuntarily purred at her touch and keened to her movements as they sat together. Love was cancelling appointments when she fell asleep on his therapy couch and watching over her while he got paperwork done instead. Love was feeling the warmth radiate from her skin and from the spot on her forehead where he kissed her and never wanting it to leave his lips. Cheshire did not know that he was capable of all of these things and more for the sake of a single human being. To admit the words ‘love’ meant admitting he, too, had feelings that could be manipulated afterall.

For her though...for her, they were worth falling from between his lips. They were worth the thoughtfulness that had to be put into them. They were worth everything because she, in all of her beauty as she sat shocked next to him, was worth every moment.

Alexys didn’t speak for a long while. The silence ticked by, making worry blossom in the center of Cheshire’s chest. Had he overstepped a boundary she was not ready for? Had he misread the situation? Perhaps the words were too much too soon. What if-

He was stopped in his thoughts when Alexys leaned forward to capture his lips in her own, crushing them together so that he could feel the smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He allowed it, smiling back as they shared a passionate embrace. Once she pulled away, her smile wide, she pressed her forehead to his own and laughed with delight.

“I love you too, you silly cat.”

And the ticking of the metronome continued as they embraced once again.

[onemuseleft]

The Cold Hard Truth, Fic 1/1, Voltron, PG

Title: The Cold Hard Truth

Part of All the Ways (You Say You Love Me) Fill for the prompt:  “With a shuddering gasp”

Pairing: Keith/Lance Rating: PG-13 Words: 2292

Yo, @alittlethor, here you go.

“I love you,” Lance gasps.

He’s shivering, shaking in Keith’s arms. He can feel them across his chest like brands – Keith is a fucking furnace, every inch of him feels like fire against Lance’s skin. Keith’s holding him tight, pressed all along Lance’s side, his arm pressed tight against Keith’s chest where Lance can feel Keith’s heart beating steadily.

Keith’s heart is a metronome, Lance’s is trying to pound its way out of his ribcage.

They’re so close that Lance can hear the way Keith draws in a sharp breath before going completely still.

Lance closes his eyes. “Look, it’s not a big deal, I just… Thought you should know. But you don’t have to-”

“Shut up,” Keith said. His voice is harsh, loud, and Lance can’t help the way he flinches at the sound of it.

He forces himself to be still, but he can’t stop himself from shivering, cold through to his bones in more than one way. He curls his fingers and presses them against his thighs, but they’re thick and clumsy and cold. “Right. Okay. Saw that coming. Like I said it’s not a big deal.”

“Just shut the hell up, all right?” Keith pulls away, and the space between them now is almost painfully cold.

Lance hunched his shoulders, pulls his arms up to cross them over his chest. He tells himself it’s just to keep warm now that Keith isn’t holding him anymore, and that might even be partly true. He laughs a little, and it comes out weak and bitter even to his own ears. “I knew that wasn’t going to go over well, but would it have killed you to just let me down easy? Let me die with some sad little shred of dignity over here? At least pretend you don’t hate me for the next hour or two so I could die happy?”

“You’re not going to die so shut up!” Keith’s voice breaks on the final word and it startles Lance enough that he opens his eyes again.

Keith is kneeling on the cave floor beside him, staring down at Lance with narrowed eyes. His jaw is clenched so tight that one of the cuts along the lower part of his face is going to split open again soon. His hands are curled into fists at his side and his breath is coming quicker now, harder, like something had just scared him.

Behind him Lance can see the storm still raging outside the little cave they’d taken shelter in. Somewhere out in that storm is the creature that had gutted Lance, slicing open his stomach with three razor sharp claws and leaving him bleeding out in the snow.

He doesn’t remember how they got into the cave. He doesn’t really know why Keith is still there, not when the research outpost was only a few miles away. Keith, uninjured and armed, could have made that in an hour or so.

“You should get going,” Lance said. “The storm’s only supposed to get worse. You need to move now if you’re going to make it back to base.”

“What is wrong with you?” Keith slams one hand into the ground next to his knee so hard it has to hurt. Lance watches his knuckles slam into the rock but doesn’t flinch – Lance is too tired for that and anyway, Keith wouldn’t hit him, not when he couldn’t fight back at least.

“Where do you get this bullshit from?” Keith says. He sounds lost now, confused. Lance feels a quick flutter of panic that the cold is getting to Keith, too. “Why are you so determined to make me hate you? And why the hell would you want to love someone who hated you?”

“Can’t help it,” Lance says. He’s far past any kind of dignity at this point so why not be honest and spill his guts metaphorically as well as literally? He laughs again, kind of amused by himself, and has to breathe through his nose for a minute as the pain in his belly flares white-bright.

“Can’t help it,” he says again when he’s caught his breath. Keith is staring at him, his face pulled into a grimace and his hands hovering anxiously over Lance’s stomach. “Couldn’t ever help it. You’re just you, you know?” He smiles, because he can’t help himself, and watches as Keith’s mouth turns down at the corners. “You’re beautiful. Watching you fight is like a fucking wet dream. And when you pilot you’re incredible, you’re better than anyone I’ve ever seen, even Shiro.”

He lifts one hand to take one of Keith’s, curls his fingers around Keith’s fingers. They feel almost painfully warm against Lance’s skin which is probably the blood loss. Or the hypothermia. It kind of hurts to do – everything hurts right now, every breath sends a stab of pain through his gut, every movement pulls at his wounds. It’s worth it, though. He’s going to die but at least he’ll get to hold Keith’s hand for a minute.

Keith doesn’t pull away. Instead he curls his fingers into Lance’s grip and wraps his other hand over the back of Lance’s holding it between them.

“And you care,” Lance says. “Even when you don’t want to. Even when you know you shouldn’t. You cared about Allura when she turned away from you, you cared about Shiro when everyone gave him up for dead. Everyone in the universe is depending on you for something and you’ll never let any of them down.” He squeezes Keith’s hand as tightly as he can, which he doesn’t think is very hard anymore. “How the hell could I resist that? I never stood a chance.”

“Lance…”

“I did try,” Lance says. He turns his head to the side so he isn’t staring at Keith’s face anymore. “I did. To be good enough.” His lips tremble for a moment and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. “I know you never thought very much of me. I was a showoff and a goof and – I was just the fifth guy in the room, right place at the right time. I was never meant to be a paladin, not like you were.”

“No.” Keith’s hands clench around his. “No, Lance, that was never-”

“You were meant for this,” Lance says. “You were born for it. You’re going to save the universe, Keith, and I wish I could have helped you do it.” His eyes are hot and he can hear his voice starting to break on the vowels. A day ago he’d have killed himself before letting Keith see him be this weak, but he’s so cold and so tired and he can’t feel his feet anymore. The strips of cloth Keith used to put pressure on his wounds are soaked through and he can feel his own blood dripping down his sides. He’s past pride, he’s past lying to himself. He’s going to die, very, very soon and there’s nothing he can do about it.

But maybe he can do one last thing.

“So you need to go,” he says. He blinks hard, until he’s sure his eyes are clear and he looks up at Keith. “Voltron needs you. Whatever misguided sense of duty is keeping you here, let it go. The storm is coming in and you don’t have time to keep me company or – or stand guard or whatever you’re doing. You need to live.” His voice breaks finally and he closes his eyes before Keith can see him cry. “I need you to live. You have to go.”

Keith is shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot!” He sets Lance’s hand down carefully, almost like he’s afraid it’ll break, and then leans in close, hands planted on the ground on either side of Lance’s shoulders. “Listen to me, you self-sacrificing moron. You – you’re a fucking natural! I was in those caves a hundred times and Blue wouldn’t give me the time of day until I brought her you. Yeah, you were the fifth guy in the room, but you were the only one who mattered because you were the one Blue chose.” Keith drags in air through his teeth and he shakes his head a little. “We’d still be on Earth if you hadn’t come out to the desert to rescue Shiro. If I was meant for this it’s only because I was meant to do it with you.”

“That’s not how-”

“I said shut up!” Keith is shaking, and his eyes are bright. He’s going to cry, Lance realizes with a dull pang. Keith Kogane is going to cry over his stupid dying ass. That’s not how he’d pictured this going, not in any version of events. “How could you think I hate you? What have I ever done to make you think that?”

He hurts, and his thoughts are a little fuzzy. He’s not entirely sure he really understands what’s happening. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come so he just shakes his head a little.

He’s crying, he realizes. He can feel tears beading up in the corners of his eyes, the warmth spilling down the side of his face when he blinks.

“I don’t get you.” Keith is leaning over him, close enough that his breath is warm against Lance’s face. His thumbs stroke over Lance’s cheeks, brushing away each tear as it falls. “I don’t. Sometimes you make me so crazy. Every single being in the universe knows how I feel about you the second they see us together, everyone except you.”

Lance shook his head a little, his cheek brushing against the palm of Keith’s hand. “What?”

Keith bent down and brushed his mouth over Lance’s. It was soft and fleeting and when he pulled back his eyes had gone dark and his mouth was pressed into a hard, thin line. “I’m not leaving you here, and I’m not going to let you die. Voltron needs you too, Lance, I need you, and the team and -” He leaned in again until their foreheads touched and closed his eyes. “Stay with me. We just have to make it till morning.”

Lance reaches up to touch his fingers against Keith’s cheek. It hurts, it hurts, the ache in his gut is constant now and every little movement makes it worse and his fingers are numb and bloodless. They look white against Keith’s skin and his warmth actually hurts to touch, but Lance doesn’t pull them back. He feels a little tentative, not sure if this is allowed or if he’s going to shatter some sort of blood-loss induced hallucination. “If I live through this and it turns out this was just you trying to make me happy before I died, I’ll understand.”

“You’re going to live through this if it kills me,” Keith says without opening his eyes. “If you die I will find you and I will bring you back, and I will be pissed do you understand me? Lance.” He opens his eyes finally and Lance can’t remember the last time he saw that look on Keith’s face. Not since they lost Shiro, probably, not since the time Keith left them to go fight with the Blades. “Lance. I can’t do this without you. Just stay with me till morning, please. Lance.”

He can hear Keith calling him, his voice echoing in the distance, far, far away. It’s comforting, somehow, and Lance lets go, falls into the silence where it’s warm and safe and nothing hurts.

****

He hears Keith again, later.

It’s warmer now, and the ache in his belly is a phantom pain, barely remembered. He can hear voices, the clamor of the other paladins, Coran’s cheerful admonitions, Allura calm and amused in the background. Blue is purring softly in the back of his mind.

Keith calls him, again, and Lance opens his eyes.

He’s sitting on the floor in front of one of the healing tubes and his teammates are crouched around him in a semi-circle. Lance blinks, a little, everything still kind of hazy, their words clear but the meanings taking a moment or two to process. He’s always a little slow to wake up when they put him in the tube, they should know that by now.

Someone touches his hand and it doesn’t hurt. Lance looks over and Keith is there. The blood-splattered parka is gone – thank goodness, looking at Keith covered in his blood had been kind of freaking Lance out, to be honest – and the scratches on his face had long since healed. He’s staring at Lance with an intensity that makes him feel raw and exposed.

“Hey,” Lance says. His lips are chapped and his throat is dry. The words are scratchy and catch a little but he thinks he’s getting through to them. “Hey, I didn’t die.”

Keith shakes his head a little. “I told you I wouldn’t let you.”

“I still love you, though.”

He’s vaguely aware of the others watching but he doesn’t care. None of it matters, they’d all known anyway. Lance is aware that he was kind of fucking obvious. The only person who hadn’t know was the one person who’d needed to, apparently.

Keith was right, Lance was a moron. They were both morons. God, they deserved each other. The thought is strangely heartening.

Keith smiles, a slow, shy curve of his mouth that makes Lance want to kiss him. “I still love you, too.” This time his voice is the one that breaks on the words and he drags in a breath that’s nothing more than a shuddering gasp before he pulls Lance into his arms. “I still love you, too.”