#rarely is he seen in yellow or green but I’m sure it’s great

[blinkasaurus]

Which color looks best on William Zabka?

Oh my god. Anon. How…how can you expect me to choose?

Except of course I have an answer for you. Of course I do.

See, Billy looks great in white.

Also great in dark blue.

Various blues, red accents…really brings out his eyes.

But lemme tell you something, and it’s lucky for us, because it’s most of what he wears…

BILLY

LOOKS

BEST

IN

BLACK

I rest my case.

(Thank you for the ask, anon. This was so much fun.)

[pickafandomanyfandom]

It’s 2 am and I’m on a tangent so please please bear with me.

I’ve noticed something about the color choices in young royals, specifically regarding simons clothing and I need to put it somewhere.

As we know he has worn many colors and they have all looked amazing

However I find 2 incredibly intriguing color choices from a literary standpoint. ( I had a middle school teacher who would relentlessly give us symbolism lectures, so me and my friends fell down a rabbit hole of color symbolism badda bing badda boom, anyways ) the colors I’m intrigued with are purple and yellow, pls keep reading 😭😭

1. Purple

Someone on TikTok brought it to my attention that Omar Rudberg ( simon ), who obviously wears a lot of purple on the show, but also makes it a point to wear it to almost every if not all young royals events. This is intriguing to me because ur was not an accident/ coincidence, and only the director and/ or costume director can change my mind. Purple throughout history has been a “royal color” as early adaptations were rare due to it being rarely found in nature blah blah. If this isn’t an obvious reference to ohh idk, HIS LOVW INTREST, or perhaps and hopefully foreshadowing to his future career… idk.

Purple also symbolizes traits of creativity, royalty ( 🫨🫨🫨 ), and ambition. All of these traits are ones we have explicitly seen from Simon throughout both seasons.

Bonus: in the last scene of S2 ( spoilers ) when Sara is in the phone with the cops she is wearing purple and white. Colors that symbolize power (purple) and naïveté (white). I think both track as she has the power to ruin something beautiful, and has that power with such little understanding of the situation. Idk that’s just what I noticed tho

2. Yellow

Yellow is a color I have beef with when it comes to symbols, so ima say 2 things. 1) Yellow represents both happiness and warmth, while also being a symbol for death and warnings of danger. 2) I belive both are present in the show.

1) happiness

Exhibit this beautiful fucking scene

2) danger

In the last episode simon wears a yellow sweatshirt, instead of purple, when confronting august. I think this may be hinting at the fact that if he goes to the cops he’s fucked, but there’s still an impending danger ahead he doesn’t know about yet. We also get hints of yellow throughout scenes such as when Wille makes the statement abt the video, when he meets with Wille in lockers after the video, when he finds the schools invoice.

The difference I notice is the yellows are different shades, the yellows I find to represent danger are darker, and the yellows shown in happy scenes seemingly not only lighter, but more fluid. The sunlight flows around Wilhelms room and covers then entirely, it just fits perfectly. However, the yellow in this scenes sticks out in the world around him. In the blue curtain, in the green jacket, it even contrasts with the gray plaid pant he wears.

I’m 1000% sure I’m overthinking it, but I need someone to at least read it, even if it’s to tell me to stfu and stop obsessing over clothing choices. Anyways gn, have a great day

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2007): Epic

You know what folks? Change of plans! I must play something else before Community Chest 3 kills me with its marathon-long content. So let’s take a look at another WAD on the list before gathering material for CC3 between reviewing other WADs. And today, we have a perfect WAD that will jump-start my heart back out of the boredom.

G8: Epic

Main author(s): Alexander S. (Eternal)

Release date: October 10th, 2007 (database upload)

Version played: ???

Required port compatibility: Boom/Limit-removing

Levels: 5

Epic is one of the earlier WADs created by Eternal, who actually started posting WADs in 2007. Not only did this WAD earn one of the Cacowards but the author himself also earned the Mapper of the Year award; all in the same year, making it all look like he was just getting started. But we will have to play this WAD to see if it was all well deserved...

Spoilers: It was well deserved.

While it might not look as good as some of the other WADs released in 2007, Epic still looks great. And it’s mostly due to taking place in desert-like areas (with some jungle parts sprinkled here and there) that might give you ancient Egypt vibes. And since I’m a sucker for ancient shit, of course it would hook me in. The final map with the titular citadel is something worth seeing yourself.

Now, I’ve seen people calling this WAD an Egyptian one, but I’m not entirely sure about it, since the maps look like they have elements not only from Ancient Egypt but also from Mesoamerican civilizations. Not to mention some of the modern/army base-looking buildings here and there.

Music-wise... I think it’s all right. Nothing really to complain about, although I feel like the tracks for Sand-Storm and The Citadel are too short for such maps. Not to mention hearing Daedalus’ leitmotif so many times in the past that it gets infuriating.

These maps aren’t that complicated. You just need to remember that there are two moments on Arc of the Pendulum where you have to shoot a switch to progress.

Each map has something different to offer. A Fool's Paradise has you fighting somewhere that looks like a dock built near an ancient temple. Sand-Storm is a big, sprawling level where you can go to most of the locations in any order; you end up here by the teleporter in the previous map and you end up blowing the one from the other side, killing two poor shmucks in the blast radius. Arc of the Pendulum spends most of its time in some castle complex before ending up back in the jungle, near the train station that leads to the citadel. Helltrain makes you board the train at the end of the previous to get to the next map.

And of course, the titular Citadel, which on the foundation level is Sand-Storm again but on a bigger scale, but it tends to fresh it up, with six keys to find instead of three, a short visit to the Martian vessel, you even visit the titular building itself after taking care of the outdoor area surrounding it.

There is also one thing that doesn’t happen in the WAD – supposedly, it would make (at least some) hanging corpses destructible, like the hangmen Keens.

Now, I don’t really think Epic is hard. Sure, there are some tougher moments, but it never really felt like I was about to turn into the walking punching bag for demons. And even though there are cheap moments like with monsters hiding in corners/popping from the ground or hitscanners in the wide areas that don’t really have anything to hide from them, I think I can forgive the author for these for now since this was one of his earlier works (and the hitscanner thing happens rather rarely).

Some of the enemies get updated sprites. Hitscanners now wear different headgear per type, Imps are darker and have yellow eyes, and Revenants’ eye sockets are now green, reminiscing their Doom 3 variant.

Although I don’t remember encountering many bugs, the author recommends not playing the Citadel with the latest (at the time) version of PRBoom among other problems.

Epic might be unpolished in some places but I believe it’s one of those WADs that every Doom WAD enjoyer should play. It’s an excellent introduction to the man's work of Eternal (even if that’s not actually the first WAD he created), and it’s the biggest proof of why he was regarded as the best map maker of 2007.

Now, as for Community Chest 3, as I said at the start, I’ve decided that in the case of the community projects, I will play them the first time and gather the screenshots of where the secrets are/interesting locations between reviewing other WADs; in parts. By now I’m halfway done with CC3 secrets and I’ll try to finish searching for them before tackling The Ultimate Torment & Torture.

Until then, I’ll see you all next time.

Bye!

[oblivious-aro]

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 5 Intro

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

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

"...and then after it's completely emptied, you just untwist, put the cap back on, and you're done. Any questions?" Danny asked.

"Nope." Valerie said. "Seems pretty straightforward."

Valerie looked at the swirling portal.

"So this is where the ghosts come from." she said.

"Yup."

"And it's where you...you know..."

"Became half-ghost?"

"Yeah. Sorry, wasn't sure if that was a sensitive topic."

"Eh, not really." Danny stuck his hand into the portal. "Want to stick your hand in?"

"Uh...you sure that's safe to do?"

"Of course. See?"

Danny pulled his hand out and stuck it back in. Then back out, and in, and out, and in, and out, and-

"Okay, I get it."

Valerie took a deep breath and tentatively stuck her hand into the portal.

"Okay, this is weird. It feels like there's something in between a solid and a gas flowing through my fingers. And there's a weird vibe to it, like some kind of cold energy that feels almost...alive...alright, that's enough."

Valerie pulled her hand back out, shaking a few green wisps off of it.

"Now that was an experience I'm not interested in repeating anytime soon." she said, inspecting her hand.

"Okay, we leave in the morning, so I guess I should give you this."

Danny looked at the thermos in his hand for a few seconds before holding it out to Valerie.

"Don't lose this." he said firmly "It's our only one."

"Got it."

"Seriously."

"Danny," Valerie put a hand on the thermos "I got this. You can trust me."

"Right, yeah." Danny let Valerie take the thermos. "It's just one weekend."

"Exactly." Valerie smiled "You all go and have a good time with Mr Masters. Valerie's got the Amity ghosts all under control." Valerie briefly spun The Thermos on her finger like a basketball before catching it and stowing it away in her backpack.

Danny wasn't feeling as confident as Valerie. Hunting ghosts by yourself could be a lot. Even Danny rarely fought ghosts without Sam and Tucker.

Although, Valerie was getting a lot better. She was very capable, and she'd probably be fine on her own for just one weekend.

Probably.

"Alright." Danny relented. "Oh! One last thing, don't touch anything in this lab."

"Don't worry," Valerie glanced at a bubbling green beaker "I absolutely wasn't going to."

"Sorry you can't come with us." Danny said as he and Valerie started up the basement stairs. "I know Sam and Tucker are going, but Vlad hasn't met you, so it'd be kind of weird if I asked him to invite you too."

"Yup. Never met the guy. I hate meeting strangers on my vacation as much as the next billionaire, ha ha." Valerie cleared her throat. "Probably for the best anyway, someone's gotta keep Amity Park safe from ghosts. You just relax and enjoy your lakeside vacation."

"Yeah, alright." Danny forced a smile. Not that he wasn't going to try to relax, but Valerie had no idea how high the stakes were going to be this weekend.

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

"...and he's got his own vacation home now!" Jack beamed as he zoomed through a yellow light "He only built it in the last decade, so we haven't actually seen it yet, but I bet it'll be great!"

"And it's right on the lakefront, so the view will be spectacular!" Maddie turned in the passenger's seat, her face turning serious "Now kids, Vlad has requested that we don't bring any ghost weapons with us, and we're going to respect his wishes, but I want you all to be careful. The ecto activity is Wisconsin may be lower than Amity, but even if it was zero it's always good to be vigilant."

"That's true!" Jack said. "If you kids see a ghost, just scream and the two of us'll come running!"

The kids all gave each other a look.

"Ooh! This song's a classic! turns it up Madds!"

"You got it Jackie!" Maddie replied, cranking the volume.

The kids averted their eyes as the parents began to 'groove'. It was a horrendous sight for four teenagers, but at least Jack and Maddie were occupied enough for the kids to talk freely.

"Hey Danny," Tucker said "You sure Valerie's gonna be alright on her own for the weekend?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Danny smiled reassuringly at Tucker "I left The Thermos with her. Besides, you've seen her fight ghosts, she's been getting a lot better."

"Did you show her how to empty it?" Tucker asked.

"Yup."

"You told not to touch anything in the lab, right?" Jazz's eyes widened in concern.

"Yes Jazz, I told her not to touch anything." Danny rolled his eyes.

"It's not even two full days." Tucker glanced out the back window, despite Amity Park no longer being anywhere in sight "You're right, Danny. She can totally handle herself."

"Hm, you see awfully concerned about Valerie, Tucker." Sam smirked. "Don't worry, your crush can handle herself just fine."

"Oh, lay off Sam!" Tucker glared at her "I do not have a crush on her!"

"Right, because you don't get a thing for literally every girl that talks to you."

"Yeah, well, why don't we talk about your crushes for a change Sam!"

"What?"

"Yeah! You've been making fun of me for forever, now it's your turn! I'm sure you've got some super embarrassing ones we can make fun of!" Tucker smiled evilly.

"Tucker, I don't-"

"Hmm, let's see," Tucker made an exaggerated thinking face.

"Should we intervene or something?" Jazz asked Danny.

"I don't want to be involved in whatever this is." Danny replied, holding a book in front of his face. He failed to notice that it was the RV's maintenance manual, and also upside down.

"You were pretty into the Blood Love books in seventh grade? Maybe you were secretly into Winston MacWolfe or Florence Fanguard? Hmm?" Tucker waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, first off, never do that with your face again." Sam said "And second, I'm not just some stereotype. Those two would be a terrible boyfriends. Looking back, their relationship with Bethany was so toxic, and they're both literally bloodthirsty monsters. I just liked the battle scenes, and was too young to fully pick up on the misogyny. And also the thinly veiled racism."

"Jeez," Danny turned to Jazz "What happens in those books?"

"Okay, then what is your type? Moody musicians? Old timey poets? Ooh, I know! Since you're not a stereotype, maybe you're a super subversive goth who's into jocks. Sam, do you have a crush on Dash?"

"No Tucker. I do not have a crush on Dash."

"You did kiss him that one time, though."

"Wait, what?" Jazz asked.

"That doesn't count." Sam snapped. "And literally every other thing you said was stupid. I've got way better taste than whatever it is you seem to think of me."

"Okay, what is your taste?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated briefly "I haven't ever actually fallen in love with anyone yet, but-"

"Calm down, Sam. I'm just talking crushes and stuff. You don't have to have figured out who you're going to marry yet."

Sam stared at Tucker for a second before rolling her eyes.

"I've never had a crush or whatever either."

Tucker stopped smirking.

"Oh." Tucker's tone had lost all its joviality. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean-"

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?" Sam asked angrily.

"I didn't realize. I wouldn't have made fun of you if I'd know."

"I don't have some kind of disease, Tucker. We're only fourteen, I think it's pretty reasonable that I haven't had any crushes yet."

Tucker, Danny, and Jazz all looked away from Sam awkwardly.

"Ugh!" Sam rolled her eyes. "Why are you all are being so weird about this?"

"You're right, Sam." Jazz said. "It's perfectly normal to have never had a crush at your age."

"See!" Sam threw out her hand towards Jazz.

"Although, I would say that most people have."

"I know most people do," Sam said. "I just think most of them are a waste of time. Like, what was the point in pining over Paulina?" Sam thrust her hand out towards Danny "That didn't go anywhere and I think we both knew it wouldn't."

"I mean," Danny put the manual back where he found it, disappointed that it had failed to keep him from getting involved "Sure, I guess in hindsight, but it was fun at the time."

"Paulina has the personality of a porcupine that likes to bite. How could going to the dance with her have possibly been fun?"

"Because I liked her."

"Why though?"

"I don't know, I guess she was pretty and popular, and going out with someone like her just made me feel really...good about myself, I guess."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck shyly. It was weird saying all of that out loud.

"Hey, lay off Sam." Tucker cut in "Sure, in hindsight, Paulina's probably not the best choice for a long-term girlfriend, I'll give you that, but wouldn't you go out with one of the most popular guy in school if he asked? Not one of the A-Lister jerks, obviously, but, let's say...Yujin Choi?"

"Hanging out all night at school with someone I barely know? Gee, that sounds fun."

"Sounds fun to me. Even if it was just one date, going out with Jin would be a great boost for my confidence. Not that I'd really need it, I already know I'm great, but I'd still take it."

"Wait," Sam said "Do you like Choi?"

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a stunned silence in the back of the RV. Tucker did not seem to be aware that he'd said anything weird.

"I...didn't know you liked guys Tuck." Danny said.

"Huh? Oh, nah, I'm straight. Choi's just one of those guys, you know?"

"One of what guys Tucker?" Jazz asked.

"One of those every-once-in-a-while guy crushes."

"Um, Tucker, straight people typically don't get crushes on people of their gender." Jazz said gently, her eyebrows creasing.

"Eh, maybe it's just a guy thing." Tucker shrugged "You all know me, I like a lot of girls, but every so often there's a guy who's like, dang. Back me up here Danny, you know what I mean."

"Er..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck "Gotta be honest with you Tuck, but I think Jazz is right about this one. It's definitely 100% girls for me."

The comfortable smile slipped from Tucker's face.

"Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

A heavy silence fell over the group. It was very uncomfortable, but everyone was too afraid to break it.

Jazz finally cracked about two minutes later.

"Hey, who wants to hear some interesting fun facts about Lake Geneva?" she asked, pulling out a brochure from a compartment beneath her seat.

No one responded.

"Before the American settlers forced them out in the seventeenth century, Geneva Lake was home to members of the Potawatomi tribe, who originally called the lake Kishwauketoe, meaning 'clear water'..."

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

A string of songs from the Fenton parents' era had come on after the first one, much to their delight.

"Ah, that music really bring brings you back, doesn't it Madds?" Jack said.

"It sure does, Jack." Maddie smiled.

Even though it was a commercial break, Maddie left the volume up. She checked over her shoulder. The kids were preoccupied, listening to Jazz talk about the history of Lake Geneva.

She turned to Jack. He looked very excited. Maddie hated to quash that excitement, but she had some concerns she thought it'd be best to voice before they arrived at Vlad's.

"Jack, before we get there, I should probably talk to you about something."

"What's up sweet cheeks?"

"I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but a little while back, Vlad and I had a kind of a talk."

"Is that where he came up with the idea of this trip?" Jack asked.

"Erm, maybe, but it wasn't exactly a very nice talk."

"Oh?"

"I told him how I felt about him avoiding us all the time."

"Oh. How'd he take it?"

"I'm not sure. I kind of stormed off before he could reply and we hadn't spoken again since. Until he invited us up for this weekend, actually."

"Well, he did invite us out here, and he said he'd make sure he'd stick around the whole time, so he's probably not mad at you. I'll bet he actually listened to what you said, and that's why he's doing this. Maybe he'll even explain why he's always avoiding us all this time!"

"Huh, I suppose that makes sense..." Maddie mused. "Might be a little optimistic with that last bit, Dear, but I suppose Vlad wouldn't have invited us down if he was angry. Maybe I really did get through to him."

"That's the spirit Madds!"

Maddie was glad she'd spoken to Jack about her concerns, she was suddenly feeling much better.

"It'll be nice to finally spend some quality time with Vlad. We have so much catching up to do."

"I know Madds. I have so many new inventions to tell him about! Oh, and you brought the kids' baby pictures, right?"

"Yup! The album's in our suitcase."

"Excellent! I know things have been kind of weird between us, but this weekend's gonna be fun! I can just feel it!"

[sunnys567]

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 5 Intro

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

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

"...and then after it's completely emptied, you just untwist, put the cap back on, and you're done. Any questions?" Danny asked.

"Nope." Valerie said. "Seems pretty straightforward."

Valerie looked at the swirling portal.

"So this is where the ghosts come from." she said.

"Yup."

"And it's where you...you know..."

"Became half-ghost?"

"Yeah. Sorry, wasn't sure if that was a sensitive topic."

"Eh, not really." Danny stuck his hand into the portal. "Want to stick your hand in?"

"Uh...you sure that's safe to do?"

"Of course. See?"

Danny pulled his hand out and stuck it back in. Then back out, and in, and out, and in, and out, and-

"Okay, I get it."

Valerie took a deep breath and tentatively stuck her hand into the portal.

"Okay, this is weird. It feels like there's something in between a solid and a gas flowing through my fingers. And there's a weird vibe to it, like some kind of cold energy that feels almost...alive...alright, that's enough."

Valerie pulled her hand back out, shaking a few green wisps off of it.

"Now that was an experience I'm not interested in repeating anytime soon." she said, inspecting her hand.

"Okay, we leave in the morning, so I guess I should give you this."

Danny looked at the thermos in his hand for a few seconds before holding it out to Valerie.

"Don't lose this." he said firmly "It's our only one."

"Got it."

"Seriously."

"Danny," Valerie put a hand on the thermos "I got this. You can trust me."

"Right, yeah." Danny let Valerie take the thermos. "It's just one weekend."

"Exactly." Valerie smiled "You all go and have a good time with Mr Masters. Valerie's got the Amity ghosts all under control." Valerie briefly spun The Thermos on her finger like a basketball before catching it and stowing it away in her backpack.

Danny wasn't feeling as confident as Valerie. Hunting ghosts by yourself could be a lot. Even Danny rarely fought ghosts without Sam and Tucker.

Although, Valerie was getting a lot better. She was very capable, and she'd probably be fine on her own for just one weekend.

Probably.

"Alright." Danny relented. "Oh! One last thing, don't touch anything in this lab."

"Don't worry," Valerie glanced at a bubbling green beaker "I absolutely wasn't going to."

"Sorry you can't come with us." Danny said as he and Valerie started up the basement stairs. "I know Sam and Tucker are going, but Vlad hasn't met you, so it'd be kind of weird if I asked him to invite you too."

"Yup. Never met the guy. I hate meeting strangers on my vacation as much as the next billionaire, ha ha." Valerie cleared her throat. "Probably for the best anyway, someone's gotta keep Amity Park safe from ghosts. You just relax and enjoy your lakeside vacation."

"Yeah, alright." Danny forced a smile. Not that he wasn't going to try to relax, but Valerie had no idea how high the stakes were going to be this weekend.

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

"...and he's got his own vacation home now!" Jack beamed as he zoomed through a yellow light "He only built it in the last decade, so we haven't actually seen it yet, but I bet it'll be great!"

"And it's right on the lakefront, so the view will be spectacular!" Maddie turned in the passenger's seat, her face turning serious "Now kids, Vlad has requested that we don't bring any ghost weapons with us, and we're going to respect his wishes, but I want you all to be careful. The ecto activity is Wisconsin may be lower than Amity, but even if it was zero it's always good to be vigilant."

"That's true!" Jack said. "If you kids see a ghost, just scream and the two of us'll come running!"

The kids all gave each other a look.

"Ooh! This song's a classic! turns it up Madds!"

"You got it Jackie!" Maddie replied, cranking the volume.

The kids averted their eyes as the parents began to 'groove'. It was a horrendous sight for four teenagers, but at least Jack and Maddie were occupied enough for the kids to talk freely.

"Hey Danny," Tucker said "You sure Valerie's gonna be alright on her own for the weekend?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Danny smiled reassuringly at Tucker "I left The Thermos with her. Besides, you've seen her fight ghosts, she's been getting a lot better."

"Did you show her how to empty it?" Tucker asked.

"Yup."

"You told not to touch anything in the lab, right?" Jazz's eyes widened in concern.

"Yes Jazz, I told her not to touch anything." Danny rolled his eyes.

"It's not even two full days." Tucker glanced out the back window, despite Amity Park no longer being anywhere in sight "You're right, Danny. She can totally handle herself."

"Hm, you see awfully concerned about Valerie, Tucker." Sam smirked. "Don't worry, your crush can handle herself just fine."

"Oh, lay off Sam!" Tucker glared at her "I do not have a crush on her!"

"Right, because you don't get a thing for literally every girl that talks to you."

"Yeah, well, why don't we talk about your crushes for a change Sam!"

"What?"

"Yeah! You've been making fun of me for forever, now it's your turn! I'm sure you've got some super embarrassing ones we can make fun of!" Tucker smiled evilly.

"Tucker, I don't-"

"Hmm, let's see," Tucker made an exaggerated thinking face.

"Should we intervene or something?" Jazz asked Danny.

"I don't want to be involved in whatever this is." Danny replied, holding a book in front of his face. He failed to notice that it was the RV's maintenance manual, and also upside down.

"You were pretty into the Blood Love books in seventh grade? Maybe you were secretly into Winston MacWolfe or Florence Fanguard? Hmm?" Tucker waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, first off, never do that with your face again." Sam said "And second, I'm not just some stereotype. Those two would be a terrible boyfriends. Looking back, their relationship with Bethany was so toxic, and they're both literally bloodthirsty monsters. I just liked the battle scenes, and was too young to fully pick up on the misogyny. And also the thinly veiled racism."

"Jeez," Danny turned to Jazz "What happens in those books?"

"Okay, then what is your type? Moody musicians? Old timey poets? Ooh, I know! Since you're not a stereotype, maybe you're a super subversive goth who's into jocks. Sam, do you have a crush on Dash?"

"No Tucker. I do not have a crush on Dash."

"You did kiss him that one time, though."

"Wait, what?" Jazz asked.

"That doesn't count." Sam snapped. "And literally every other thing you said was stupid. I've got way better taste than whatever it is you seem to think of me."

"Okay, what is your taste?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated briefly "I haven't ever actually fallen in love with anyone yet, but-"

"Calm down, Sam. I'm just talking crushes and stuff. You don't have to have figured out who you're going to marry yet."

Sam stared at Tucker for a second before rolling her eyes.

"I've never had a crush or whatever either."

Tucker stopped smirking.

"Oh." Tucker's tone had lost all its joviality. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean-"

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?" Sam asked angrily.

"I didn't realize. I wouldn't have made fun of you if I'd know."

"I don't have some kind of disease, Tucker. We're only fourteen, I think it's pretty reasonable that I haven't had any crushes yet."

Tucker, Danny, and Jazz all looked away from Sam awkwardly.

"Ugh!" Sam rolled her eyes. "Why are you all are being so weird about this?"

"You're right, Sam." Jazz said. "It's perfectly normal to have never had a crush at your age."

"See!" Sam threw out her hand towards Jazz.

"Although, I would say that most people have."

"I know most people do," Sam said. "I just think most of them are a waste of time. Like, what was the point in pining over Paulina?" Sam thrust her hand out towards Danny "That didn't go anywhere and I think we both knew it wouldn't."

"I mean," Danny put the manual back where he found it, disappointed that it had failed to keep him from getting involved "Sure, I guess in hindsight, but it was fun at the time."

"Paulina has the personality of a porcupine that likes to bite. How could going to the dance with her have possibly been fun?"

"Because I liked her."

"Why though?"

"I don't know, I guess she was pretty and popular, and going out with someone like her just made me feel really...good about myself, I guess."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck shyly. It was weird saying all of that out loud.

"Hey, lay off Sam." Tucker cut in "Sure, in hindsight, Paulina's probably not the best choice for a long-term girlfriend, I'll give you that, but wouldn't you go out with one of the most popular guy in school if he asked? Not one of the A-Lister jerks, obviously, but, let's say...Yujin Choi?"

"Hanging out all night at school with someone I barely know? Gee, that sounds fun."

"Sounds fun to me. Even if it was just one date, going out with Jin would be a great boost for my confidence. Not that I'd really need it, I already know I'm great, but I'd still take it."

"Wait," Sam said "Do you like Choi?"

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a stunned silence in the back of the RV. Tucker did not seem to be aware that he'd said anything weird.

"I...didn't know you liked guys Tuck." Danny said.

"Huh? Oh, nah, I'm straight. Choi's just one of those guys, you know?"

"One of what guys Tucker?" Jazz asked.

"One of those every-once-in-a-while guy crushes."

"Um, Tucker, straight people typically don't get crushes on people of their gender." Jazz said gently, her eyebrows creasing.

"Eh, maybe it's just a guy thing." Tucker shrugged "You all know me, I like a lot of girls, but every so often there's a guy who's like, dang. Back me up here Danny, you know what I mean."

"Er..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck "Gotta be honest with you Tuck, but I think Jazz is right about this one. It's definitely 100% girls for me."

The comfortable smile slipped from Tucker's face.

"Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

A heavy silence fell over the group. It was very uncomfortable, but everyone was too afraid to break it.

Jazz finally cracked about two minutes later.

"Hey, who wants to hear some interesting fun facts about Lake Geneva?" she asked, pulling out a brochure from a compartment beneath her seat.

No one responded.

"Before the American settlers forced them out in the seventeenth century, Geneva Lake was home to members of the Potawatomi tribe, who originally called the lake Kishwauketoe, meaning 'clear water'..."

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

A string of songs from the Fenton parents' era had come on after the first one, much to their delight.

"Ah, that music really bring brings you back, doesn't it Madds?" Jack said.

"It sure does, Jack." Maddie smiled.

Even though it was a commercial break, Maddie left the volume up. She checked over her shoulder. The kids were preoccupied, listening to Jazz talk about the history of Lake Geneva.

She turned to Jack. He looked very excited. Maddie hated to quash that excitement, but she had some concerns she thought it'd be best to voice before they arrived at Vlad's.

"Jack, before we get there, I should probably talk to you about something."

"What's up sweet cheeks?"

"I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but a little while back, Vlad and I had a kind of a talk."

"Is that where he came up with the idea of this trip?" Jack asked.

"Erm, maybe, but it wasn't exactly a very nice talk."

"Oh?"

"I told him how I felt about him avoiding us all the time."

"Oh. How'd he take it?"

"I'm not sure. I kind of stormed off before he could reply and we hadn't spoken again since. Until he invited us up for this weekend, actually."

"Well, he did invite us out here, and he said he'd make sure he'd stick around the whole time, so he's probably not mad at you. I'll bet he actually listened to what you said, and that's why he's doing this. Maybe he'll even explain why he's always avoiding us all this time!"

"Huh, I suppose that makes sense..." Maddie mused. "Might be a little optimistic with that last bit, Dear, but I suppose Vlad wouldn't have invited us down if he was angry. Maybe I really did get through to him."

"That's the spirit Madds!"

Maddie was glad she'd spoken to Jack about her concerns, she was suddenly feeling much better.

"It'll be nice to finally spend some quality time with Vlad. We have so much catching up to do."

"I know Madds. I have so many new inventions to tell him about! Oh, and you brought the kids' baby pictures, right?"

"Yup! The album's in our suitcase."

"Excellent! I know things have been kind of weird between us, but this weekend's gonna be fun! I can just feel it!"

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,��� he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (5)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 7.4k

a/n: you know I had to sprinkle a couple of jane austen references here and there ;)

~

The Midsummer festival had been celebrated at the Cameron household for decades, if not longer. Their family was one of the oldest in the small town of Outer Banks and it became tradition for Rose Cameron to organize the event. She spent a majority of her year planning for one night of festivities, relying only on her close friends for help. She bore the brunt of the work, deciding on the theme, caterers, decorations, live band, venue, and so on. After all was said and done, Rose slept for a week, exhausted from all the planning. At one point in her and Ward’s marriage, she had almost decided against planning it at all since the task was so stressful. But she had pushed on, determined to make this year’s Midsummer festival the best one yet.

And, in theory, she succeeded. This year’s theme was regency; an idea that slipped into her mind after she had watched Pride and Prejudice for the first time. Rose had a taste for the finer things in life and although Ward gave her everything he could, she did grow envious of the women who lived in the regency era and got to live in exquisite dresses. So, with further support from her friends, Rose handed out invitations to Outer Banks’s elite, citing on the invitation that this year was regency themed. Now, all she needed to do was plan the festival.

She decided to host the festival in a beautiful hall called the DeClaire Hall. Most of the time, the Midsummer festival was hosted merely from their big backyard that spanned acres of land. But Rose wanted to outdo herself and prove to the snobby PTA moms that she had what it took to host an event for the town. This hall was one of the only ones in Outer Banks and it was rarely used, mostly because the Outer Banks’s Historical Society deemed it a national landmark. It had been a hotel for the elite some 120 years ago and it had not been used in the last fifty. But it was beautiful, the original marble and vinyl floors still in great condition, and Rose knew the festival had to be thrown here. So, with permits from the city council and Historian Society, Rose began planning the Midsummer festival at the DeClaire Hall.

Once word spread of where the festival was being held, everyone was gossiping about it. All the Kooks, even the ones who thought they were too good for the Midsummer festival, had RSVP'd. Well, everyone except Y/N’s parents.

“You’re not going?” Y/N grumbled, entering her kitchen with loud stomps of her feet. She had just got off the phone with Sarah. who had mentioned to Y/N that her parents had never RSVP’d.

“Your father and I decided that none of us are going.” Y/N’s mother spoke sweetly, cutting her daughter's sandwich in half. She placed her plate on the table, but Y/N made no move to sit.

“Why?” Y/N stood tall, watching as her mom and dad walked around the kitchen, preparing lunch. Her siblings were at the table, eating, but she promised herself to go on a hunger strike until her parents let her go.

Her father stopped for a moment and looked up from his plate. “Sweetie, why do you wanna go to a party like that anyways?”

Y/N furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

This time, Y/N’s mom spoke. “You said it yourself a couple days ago; the Cameron’s have been nothing but unkind to you since you got here.”

“But not Sarah! She’s been nothing but nice.” Y/N felt a deep urge to defend her friend from her parent’s hurtful words.

“Yes, Sarah is lovely but I’m not talking about her.” Y/N’s dad began. “I’m talking about Rose Cameron, who didn’t let your mom join the PTA and called your mom names behind her back. And Ward Cameron, who bad mouthed me to the country club so I wouldn’t get in. And let’s not even talk about how rude Rafe Cameron has been to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, shuddering at even the mention of Rafe’s name. “Seriously? Firstly, mom didn’t even want to join the PTA. She hates those snobby women. And you,” Y/N points to her dad. “You don’t even like golf. It’s bad for the environment.”

Y/N watched her mom roll her eyes. “That’s not the point, Y/N. Even if we don’t want to do those things, we should at least have the choice.”

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew her parents, in some ways, were right but she still wanted to go. She had never dressed but before and she wanted to feel like a princess for at least one night. “But I wanna go. I already stick out like a sore thumb in this town, I just want to fit in for one night.”

Y/N’s parents glanced at each other, sorrowful looks on their faces. They hated seeing their daughter so upset and tried to swallow their own disgust. Finally, after looking at each other for a moment, their eyes returned to Y/N.

Y/N’s mom spoke first. “If you go, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I promise.”

Y/N’s mom forced a smile, unsure on whether she made the right decision. She wanted her daughter to be happy, but she also wanted to protect her daughter from the Cameron’s bitterness. “Okay, then you can go.”

~

Sarah had bought five regency themed dresses for the Midsummer festival. She had the first two tailored, a white and pink one but, when they didn’t look the way she wanted, she custom ordered another three from a small business on the mainland. The three dresses; a blue, green, and yellow one, had been shipped from the mainland to OBX in a matter of days and had come in just on time. Literally. The morning of the festival, a frantic delivery man dropped them off at the Cameron house. This was literally Sarah's last hope. If none of them looked good on her, she would just not show up.

Thankfully, the blue one fit perfectly and looked like a dream on her. It was a sky-blue silk dress that flowed down to her feet. The sleeves, which were this blue lace material, ended just above her elbows. The dress, although flowy, was cinched just a little at the waist by a ribbon. It looked absolutely stunning on Sarah and Y/N made sure to tell her the second she saw her friend.

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N spoke sweetly, marvelling at even how Sarah’s hair was styled. It was in this half up, half down hairdo; the top pieces of her hair held together by the same fabric of her dress.

Sarah blushed, shaking her head. “Have you seen yourself?”

Y/N had and even she had to admit that she was blown away. Sarah had let her choose from all the dresses she had, and Y/N decided on the white one. It was of the same style as Sarah’s dress but much more elegant. Sarah didn’t think she could pull it off but as she looked at Y/N, she knew her friend made a good choice. It was a white satin dress with short sleeves but, over the satin dress, lace was decorated. Stitched into the lace were small red flowers littering the dress. It was beautiful and complemented Y/N so well.

Not to mention, Y/N’s hair looked breathtaking. It was a simple style but matched the sophisticated theme of the festival. The two front pieces of Y/N’s hair were pulled back, the only thing holding them together was the same red flowers that decorated her gown. She passed Sarah for a moment, looking at herself one more time in the full-length mirror. She was in awe of how she looked.

Y/N rarely had an occasion where she could dress up this elegantly. At her old school, she had been invited to prom by a senior and went with him, dressing up in a pink floor length gown, but that had been years ago. Besides, she didn’t exactly have the best time since the senior that invited her never even asked her to dance, too busy with his own friend group to care if she was having fun.

Y/N shook off that awkward memory. This time it would be different. This time she was going to a party with someone who genuinely liked her. She had a feeling that she was going to have a different experience at this party.

“Sarah!” Rose called from downstairs, momentarily stopping Sarah and Y/N’s conversation. “It’s time to take pictures!”

Sarah looks to her bedroom door, then back at her friend. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded, a slight flutter in her chest. She knew Rafe would be down there, and she wondered, for a moment, what he would think of her dress. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Unfortunately, Rafe was concerned with other matters. As Y/N and Sarah made their way downstairs, Rafe stood uncomfortably in his father’s study. They had been in there for five unbearable minutes. Rafe dreaded every time his dad had to speak to him alone because he knew it’d only spark an argument. They rarely got along; Ward being too tough on Rafe and Rafe constantly looking for validation from his father.

“You’re going into your first year of university in the fall and you have no plan.” Ward said, rather matter-of-factly.

Rafe gulped. Against his father’s approval, Rafe enrolled in the business program at the University of North Carolina. His father wanted him to enroll in a science program, which he thought was more structured. But Rafe wanted to own his own business someday, just like his dad. Besides, although he was good at science, he didn’t enjoy it the way he enjoyed the business classes he took in high school. What Ward didn’t know was that Rafe had a plan, he was just afraid to share it with his father for fear that his father would disapprove and eventually stop helping him pay for school. Rafe couldn’t do it alone and he knew his dad’s money would help.

“I’m taking courses that will help me graduate. I promise I know what I’m doing dad.”

Rafe pulled at the collar of his shirt. He wore a stunning but simple suit. He wore a white dress shirt, the two top buttons unbuttoned for comfort rather than for style, and a black fitted blazer. The gold cufflinks Rose gifted him shone against the light in his dad’s study. The most annoying part of his outfit definitely had to be the sleeves. There were annoying frills at the edge of them, some type of embroidered pattern sewn into the sleeves. It was supposed to scream regency, he remembered Rose saying, but all he wanted to do was scream bloody murder.

“I’m giving you one year Rafe, if you don’t have a plan by then,” Ward sighed, massaging his temples. Rafe grew sad at the idea that he was stressing his dad out by simply following his dreams. “I’m cutting you off.”

Rafe didn’t try to protest. He knew there was nothing he could do to change his dad’s mind. All he could do was prove to his dad that he made the right decision. He had to be the best and he had to outperform everyone in his class. That way, his dad would be proud of him and support him in university.

Rafe only nodded at what his father said, making no effort to even respond. Over the years, he figured it was best to just let his father get the last word.

There was a knock on the door before any more words could be exchanged between the two. Ward, knowing that it was probably his wife, welcomed the person inside. The door opened slightly, only enough for the person to peek their head through. It was, in fact, Rose. Rafe smiled, remembering to make sure it looked like he was having fun. Rose had gone through all this trouble to plan this festival, the least he could do was play along.

“Oh, honey, we’re taking some pictures before we leave.” Rose’s voice was quiet and mellow, not wanting to disturb whatever conversation Rafe was having with his father.

Ward smiled, nodding sweetly to his wife. “We’ll be right there.”

Rose nods, leaving the door slightly ajar so Rafe and Ward can follow after her. Ward makes his way towards the door, glaring at Rafe.

His words are just as menacing as his glare. “Do not disappoint me.”

Rafe doesn’t even nod this time. He’s too afraid. He knows, not only by his dad’s glare, but also by how his dad leaves the room, that he is serious. More serious than he’s ever been. Rafe doesn’t move for a moment, almost too nervous to take the first step. His legs feel like jelly, and he knows that if he doesn’t calm down soon, he might faint. He wants his dad to be proud of him so badly, that he’s ready to work himself to the bone. His dad has never so much as given him a nod of approval before and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t something he craved. He yearned for the day when his dad would smile at him, telling Rafe he was proud of him.

But that day was not today, and Rafe knew he had to get over it. One day, it may happen, but he had to push all that down for tonight. Tonight, was a night to support Rose and all the hard work that went into planning a celebration like this. So, Rafe began to walk towards the door of his dad’s study, trying to forget about the conversation he just had with his dad.

As he exited the study, he straightened his collar. He felt very uncomfortable in such a fancy suit, but he tried to focus on the afterparty, something he was a little more excited for. Sure, Y/N was going but he knew JJ was jealous and would try to keep them apart all evening. All he had to do was tolerate her now and on the way to the hall and after that, he would not have to think of her for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, things never go Rafe’s way. The second he walked outside, he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Rose was taking pictures of everyone in their front garden, mentioning to Rafe before that her tulips would look great as a background piece. He had figured that since no one seemed to be in the house, they were all outside. He was right, but at what cost? Well, the cost was his sanity.

She stood there as if it was another normal day. As if she dressed like that every day. Rafe was utterly speechless. How could she be doing something as mundane as talking to Sarah but look so stunning? This was the first time he envied JJ Maybank. Although Rafe had everything a guy could ask for, JJ got the ultimate prize; he got to escort Y/N to the Midsummer festival. He got to intertwine their hands and show her off. He was the one who could dance with her and hold her and tell her how breathtaking she looked. All Rafe could do was watch (more like stare) and pretend to not notice the most beautiful woman in the room.

He hesitated for a moment. His eyes were trained on her dress instead of her face, fearing he would blush too much and make his attraction toward her obvious. Unfortunately, looking at her dress didn’t help. The fabric blew in the wind, enhancing the silhouette of her body. Ultimately, Rafe just looked away. Every moment he looked at her was another moment he was reminded that she was not his.

“Rafe!” Rose called, watching as Rafe stood away from the group. His head was down and only when she called did, he turns it up slightly. “Come over here and take some pictures!”

Rafe nodded, realizing her eyes were probably on him now. He gulped nervously. “O-okay.”

Rose frowned, confused at Rafe’s shy behaviour. She looked to Ward, who was typing something on his phone. She knew how rocky Ward and Rafe’s relationship was and knew that whenever they entered Ward’s study, Rafe would come out a meek boy. She figured Ward had done something again to hurt Rafe. Although this was true, it was not the real reason Rafe was acting so shy.

“What did you say to him?” Rose whispered to Ward once his phone was tucked away.

Ward rolled his eyes. “He needs some tough love, that boy.”

Rose was fuming but tried to keep her cool. Just for this one night. “I swear Ward, this is my day. Do not ruin it.”

Ward smirked, leaning down to kiss his wife on her cheek. “Of course, not darling. Everything will go your way tonight.”

If only they knew what was to come.

~

JJ Maybank was nervous. He swears, before he met Y/N, he was never an anxious person. Now he seemed to be panicking all the time. He knew it was because of Y/N. She was one of the best parts of his life right now and JJ had a dangerous pattern of ruining all the good things in his life. He knew it was because he was always scared of losing someone or something so special to him and never recovering. This was especially true with Y/N. Although they were not official, they had hung out basically every day since they met, and JJ’s feelings had become clear. He wanted to be her boyfriend.

And tonight, if everything went well, he would ask Y/N to be his girlfriend. He had never moved this slow with a girl before, but he was willing to try. He didn’t want to scare her off, so he played it safe.

Except, for right now. Agreeing to go to the Midsummer festival was probably the least safe thing JJ could do. He was not accepted by the Kooks, his reputation preceding him. He was rarely on his best behaviour when Kooks were involved so he was very nervous that he would somehow ruin the evening for Y/N. He could tell she had been excited for this festival, and he was sure that if he ruined the night for her, she would never want to be with him. So, with a deep breath, JJ promised himself that no matter what, he’d be on his best behaviour.

And then he saw Y/N exit Ward Cameron’s car.

She stood out like a sore thumb. None of the other girls could compare to her. JJ felt time freeze for a moment as he looked at the most beautiful girl in the world. Her white dress fitted her perfectly, it was as if it was made for her. Her hair made her look ethereal, like a fairy glowing in the dimming light. The festival was supposed to start right as the sun set so many people were already using flashlights so they could see the path to the entrance of the hall but not JJ. Y/N was his flashlight, illuminating not only herself but his entire life.

Once their eyes met, it was fireworks. JJ felt his heart skip a beat, the reality of her beauty setting in. He didn’t have to smile at her, he’d been smiling since she stepped out of the car. When she registered that it was JJ who was wearing the goofy grin, she smiled right back.

Although JJ thought Y/N looked beautiful, Y/N thought JJ looked handsome. He wore a black button up with black blazer and slacks. The collar of his shirt was embroidered with white flowers and lace, seeming to match Y/N without knowing. The usual messy hair look he wore so well was brushed back and styled. All the dirt and grime on his face was gone. It was like looking at a new JJ. A JJ that Y/N never thought she would get to see.

Once she’s an arm’s length away, JJ’s arms stretch out towards her, and she gladly accepts the hug. They both seem excited but nervous to be here. Even though Y/N is technically a Kook, she feels out of place. She knows that everyone is looking at her with disdain; knowing her family is from new money. Everyone except JJ and Sarah.

“You look beautiful.” JJ remarks as they pull away from each other.

“Thanks, J. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Y/N blushes, looping her arm around JJ. “Where’d you get that suit?”

JJ smirked. “Sarah lent it to me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Sarah. She was being escorted inside by John B. Y/N reminded herself to thank Sarah again. The festival is starting and every woman with a date is being escorted in now. “Shall we?”

JJ nods, tilting his chin up higher. “Yes, m’lady.”

Whatever image Y/N had in her mind of how the DeClaire Hall would look quickly vanished once they were inside. Large, tall marble pillars stood tall in every corner of the room. They were white, reflecting off the marble walls and vinyl floors. The middle of the hall was empty, only a few couples dancing to the melody of a violin playing. The tables were scattered along the outer part of the hall, decorated with white linen and golden embellishments. Both Y/N and JJ were astonished that Rose pulled it off. It was as if Y/N and JJ had been transported to the regency time period, watching in awe as every person seemed to be playing a character. The women wore long, bright dresses while the men were styled in fitted but elegant suits. Sarah was right; Rose really did go all out for this celebration.

“Woah.” JJ gasped. He had never seen something like this before. Although he was in awe, he was still a little bitter. The Kooks had all this money to spend on a festival that didn’t really matter but couldn’t donate some money to fix up JJ’s school or help out the dirt poor Pogues? He was bitter at the thought of all these Kooks enjoying themselves while his friends like Kie and Pope sat at home.

Y/N nodded; her eyes trained on Rafe. She couldn’t help herself. She wished he didn’t look so good but there he was, standing 20 feet away and looking like a dream. “Yeah, woah is right.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, the soft music stopped, and Rose entered the dance floor. She stood tall, the train of her yellow dress trailing behind her. “Hello everyone!” She had begun to speak but instead of her normal voice, she pretended to put on an English accent. “Thank you for coming to the ninety fifth anniversary of the Midsummer festival!”

Y/N snickered, leaning towards JJ’s ear. “This can’t be real.”

JJ smirked at her, his voice lowering. “We call them Kooks for a reason.”

“Shortly, the festivities will commence but before then, let us go over some ground rules.” Rose paused for a moment, waiting until everyone quieted down. “Firstly, young ladies will not stand up for more than two consecutive dances with the same partner. Secondly, there will be no vulgarity of any sort. And lastly, have a wondrous time!” The last sentence was spoken in her own words, the English accent no longer present in her voice.

Everyone seemed to cheer, some even clinking their champagne glasses together. The music began again, a soft melody flowing throughout the hall. Although everyone else seemed to be taking this seriously, waltzing with their partner and speaking in an English accent, Y/N and JJ were not.

JJ bowed, a goofy grin on his face. “M’lady, would you care to dance?” His southern accent was hard to disguise, even under a fake and terrible English accent.

Y/N giggled, curtsying slightly. “Why, of course!” Her hands rested in JJ’s as he led her to the middle of the hall. With anyone else, she would feel embarrassed, but it was so fun being with JJ that she didn’t care what other people thought of her.

As they pushed past crowds of Kooks, all dressed up in the finest clothing she ever saw, JJ leaned down, his breath fanning against her neck. “This has to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever done.”

Y/N smirked, looking up at him. Their lips were inches apart and she had the sudden urge to kiss him. “That can’t be true.”

JJ pouted, finally finding an open spot for them to sway to the music. He twirled Y/N around, watching in awe as her smile only grew wider. He swore he could watch her like this all day. “You’re right, it’s not.” He knew the stupidest thing he’d ever done was not kiss her sooner.

Y/N grew nervous, unsure of how to actually dance with a partner. She had never done this before. Thankfully, JJ did not hesitate like she did. She watched as he carefully placed one hand on her waist as the other clasped onto her hand. She let her other hand fall to the side, unsure of what to do next.

She looked up at JJ sheepishly. “How do I do this?” There was an awkward giggle at the end as Y/N tried to hide behind her embarrassment.

JJ smirked, his hand leaving her waist for a moment and guiding her limp arm to his shoulder. “Hold me.” Once his hand returned to her waist, he pulled her body closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her chest against his which only made his heartbeat faster. They had never been this close. Never touched each other in such a delicate way.

Soon, the two of them swayed to the music, a lovestruck grin on both of their faces. Y/N wished she could capture this moment forever. She was sure no one else had ever made her feel like this. She felt so protected. So secure. She knew that if she could, she’d choose to be in JJ’s arms forever. She was the happiest she could ever be as she danced with JJ, swaying to a song about unrequited love.

But, about twenty feet away in the corner of the room, Rafe enviously watched as the girl he wanted most danced with another man.

~

The first two hours of the Midsummer festival went marvellous. Y/N and JJ seemed to be attached at the hip, dancing, drinking, and laughing together the entire time. It seemed that all the nerves the two of them had at the beginning of the night dwindled down when they were with each other and had a few drinks. For Y/N, the best part was she had not run into Rafe once. He had been on the other side of the hall all night, drinking with his friends and dancing with a few girls. And although Y/N convinced herself that she was not watching him, she couldn’t help but feel a tad envious seeing Rafe dance with a couple girls.

The rules that Rose spoke about at the beginning of the night were more serious than Y/N and JJ initially thought. They thought it was all for show, just another way for the night to feel more realistic. But in reality, Rose would not let women dance with the same man consecutively. It was odd the first time she caught JJ and Y/N dancing, both of them ready to lie just so they could dance together again, but Rose shooed them away, telling them to wait for the next song to come on before they danced together again.

After the fourth time of Y/N and JJ trying to sneak past Rose and being caught red handed, they decided to just wait it out. How long could one song be?

“JJ,” Y/N cooed, sitting down at their table. They were seated with Sarah and John B at table two while Rose, Ward, and their friends were seated at table one. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

JJ smirked, crouched down to meet Y/N’s eyeline. “I’ve worn you out already?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a devious glint in her eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t have the stamina to drink and dance for two hours.”

JJ shrugged, standing up again. “Fine, but you owe me a dance after. That line is so long and I’m gonna have to make conversation with those snooty PTA moms.”

Y/N giggled. “Well, if you come back with a cold glass of water, I’ll do more than dance with you.”

It was supposed to be a teasing comment and it was, but there was a serious undertone to the way she talked. She had waited too long to kiss JJ. If he could just stop being a gentleman for one moment.

JJ’s back straightened, his brows raised. He slightly nods, as if he’s tipping his nonexistent hat in her direction. “I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watches in amusement as JJ scurries across the hall, impatiently waiting in the long ass line. Y/N sighs, thinking she’ll be able to relax for a moment. Although she loves dancing with JJ, she needs to rest her feet. Unfortunately, before she can properly rest, Sarah and John B rush towards her.

“What did you say to JJ that got him so riled up? That man basically ran to the bar.” John B jokes, glancing at his friend. Some of the PTA moms began talking to JJ and he watches as his friend uncomfortably tries to make conversation.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting until we can dance again.” Y/N smirks, watching JJ from across the hall as well.

“But the waltz is on next, and JJ won’t be back in time!” Sarah frowns, glancing at JJ before her gaze returns to Y/N.

Y/N shrugs. She knew her and Sarah promised to dance the waltz together with their partners, but Y/N wasn’t too worried. She figured the waltz would be played many times that night and they’d dance it next time it came on. She tried to reassure Sarah by saying so, but Sarah only frowned deeper.

“No, I’m leaving in, like, twenty minutes. Rafe and I have to start setting everything up at our house for the afterparty. It starts in an hour.” Sarah groaned.

Y/N frowned, now a little upset as well that they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their promise. “I’m sorry. I wish I could dance with you guys; I do.”

It seemed that the second those words left Y/N’s mouth, Sarah’s eyes lit up and she was no longer frowning. “Maybe you can.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “JJ’s not leaving that line now. I promised him something if he got me some water.”

Sarah giggled, instantly knowing what Y/N was implying. “No, silly. Not JJ. Someone else.” But before Y/N could ask her who she had in mind, Sarah dashed off, disappearing into the crowd of people gathered on the other side of the hall.

Y/N looked to John B, getting up from her seat. Her feet didn’t hurt as much anymore, the little rest she took had helped a lot. “What’s she up to?”

John B shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. “I never know.”

Y/N giggled at John B’s little remark because it was so true. Sarah was a very creative person and someone Y/N could go to whenever she was having a problem. Sarah always came up with the best solutions.

Except for now. Sarah was Y/N’s best friend in OBX but, when she emerged from the crowd tugging on the sleeve of a familiar face, Y/N wished Sarah didn’t have these creative plans. The person she was dragging along was Rafe. She had somehow looped Rafe into this. The last person Y/N wanted to see tonight. He looked confused and it was clear to Y/N that Sarah had not let Rafe in on her plan. This comforted her a little; knowing Rafe would be just as mortified.

When they reached about six feet away from Y/N and John B, Rafe finally understood what was about to happen. Y/N was right, he looked mortified. Rafe didn’t feel as though mortified was the right word. Humiliated. Nauseous. Literally any word that would describe how shitty he felt the second his eyes met Y/N’s.

He tried to run away; he really did. He stopped walking the second he realized what was going on. Sarah was only tugging on him because he let her. If he really wanted to, he could overpower her in seconds. And that’s what he did. He stopped in his tracks, refusing to move even as Sarah pulled harder on his sleeve.

“C’mon, she’s, my friend.” Sarah pleaded, her grasp on Rafe tightening.

Rafe shook his head, glancing Y/N’s way once more. He quickly grew embarrassed that her eyes were still on him and immediately looked back to Sarah. “Well, she’s not my friend.”

Sarah sighed, her lips in a deep pout. “Whatever weird energy you have for her, swallow it. Just for one dance.”

Rafe wanted to argue. He wanted to say that they shared no weird energy. That he just didn’t care for that hippie. But his sister knew him too well and although she might not have noticed his feelings for Y/N fully, she did register some tension between them. Rafe hated lying to his sister so, with a deep breath and a quick roll of his eyes, he agreed. It was just one dance. What’s the worst that could happen?

Y/N, on the other hand, was less flexible than Rafe. The second Sarah was close enough to hear, Y/N voiced her disdain. Which was bold since Rafe was standing in front of her.

“No way. I’m not getting a pity dance from your brother.”

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time tonight. “A thank you would suffice.”

Y/N shook her head. “Oh, a thank you?” She repeated, her blood boiling. How could someone be so attractive yet so annoying at the same time. “How about this as a thank you?” Without even thinking, Y/N raised her hand and stuck her middle finger in the air defiantly.

Y/N’s anger only made him cockier. Call Rafe a coward all you want but he was damn good at hiding behind anger to protect his own feelings. “Not very ladylike, is it? Especially in this time period.”

“You know what is appropriate in this time period though?” Y/N grumbled. “The guillotine.”

Before Rafe could come up with an intelligent rebuttal, John B cut through the tension by stepping in between the two of them. It was getting pretty heated, and John B was sure Y/N was about to punch him. “Hey guys! The waltz should be on any minute so can we please put a pin in this and just have a fun time?”

Y/N stared at Rafe, her heart fluttering a little at how rosy his cheeks had gotten during their conversation. Although he had said such terrible things, somehow, she knew he had not meant any of it. So, with a steady breath, she outstretched her hand. She had a tiny smile on her lips and this time, it wasn’t forced.

“I’m willing to put it aside if you’re willing to dance with me.”

Rafe gulped, looking at her outstretched hand and gingerly taking it. “Fine.” It was all he could muster out. He was so nervous, and it didn’t help that this was the first time they had touched. She had always felt so far away from him and now their hands were intertwined. Her skin felt soft against his and he swore he felt a buzz of electricity course through him the second their hands touched.

Y/N could feel it too. She tried to ignore it, blaming it on static electricity or anything else. She would blame it on the wind before she would conclude that there was some part of her that was drawn to Rafe Cameron. They both stayed speechless and even as they approached the middle of the hall where everyone was dancing, they barely made an effort to look at each other. Everything felt so tense the second their hands touched.

Finally, the music died down for a moment. The waltz was the next song and Y/N prepared herself mentally. No matter what her brain told her, she did not feel anything for Rafe. She liked JJ. But as the music began and Rafe made the first move, she was not so sure. His hands were gentle but hesitant, scared to place his hand on her hip. They were in each other’s space. Y/N had never been this close to him. She breathed in through her nose, smelling his wonderful cologne.

“You’re gonna have to hold me, you know that right?” Her tone comes off as sarcastic because it’s the only one she’s familiar with around Rafe.

Rafe rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I know.” He places one hand on Y/N’s hip, swallowing harshly before reaching out with his other hand and holding onto her hand. Their thumbs are intertwined, a small gesture that causes Rafe’s stomach to stir.

When the music starts, it’s soft and low at first and Y/N expects them to just sway. She had really only been swaying when she danced with JJ since they both weren’t sure how to formally dance. But Rafe had been to enough of these festivals to know how to lead a girl through a dance. So, as the music’s pace began to grow, Rafe led Y/N across the floor. Their feet seemed to be at the same pace, quietly shuffling like everyone else. He wasn’t going too fast like Y/N expected and she was grateful for it. But she was nervous nonetheless and looked to her feet so she wouldn’t accidentally step on Rafe’s toes.

Rafe chuckled at Y/N’s nervousness. He couldn’t stop thinking that she was so cute. “You have to look at your partner when you’re dancing with them.” The tone was more teasing than he wanted it to be.

Y/N looked up, blushing at her naivety. “Um, I’m afraid I’m gonna fall.”

She was being vulnerable with him. Sure, it was a very small step, but it was a step forward, nonetheless. Rafe beamed, endeared at her bashfulness. She had never been this way with him. He was taking her out of her comfort zone. “I promise you won’t step on my toes. And if you do, I won’t mind.”

Y/N gives Rafe a bashful smile. She’s looking at him while they dance now, never breaking eye contact. But Rafe is the bashful one now and continuously finds himself looking away. He’s so nervous. She’s looking at him. She’s really looking at him. He has to wonder; does she like what she sees?

“Now look at who's not focusing on their partner.” Y/N’s tone is teasing, and he can’t help but blush.

Rafe says the first thing that comes to his head. “It’s hard to look at someone so beautiful and not blush.”

This only makes the two of them blush more. Y/N wants to tell Rafe she thinks he’s beautiful too. She wants to ask him how they could be mean to each other one moment and all bashful the next. She wants to ask him if he’s ever felt like this with anyone else. She wants to know how he feels. But before she gets a chance to do any of that, they’re pulled apart.

JJ was going to let it go. He was going to just wait in that stupid line and get her a glass of water. He even wasn’t going to complain that Rafe and Y/N were dancing even though he was sure he would burst from jealousy. He convinced himself that Y/N was probably just trying to be polite and Rafe was the one to blame. But when he saw that Rafe had made her smile like that, a smile he had never seen her use, his blood boiled and all he saw was red. He left the line, not even saying goodbye to those snobby PTA moms, and bolted to the centre of the room where they were dancing. He knew that pulling Rafe by the collar would cause a scene. And he knew he promised himself that he was going to be on his best behaviour, but he couldn’t help himself. Rafe was not about to take the only good thing in his life right now. He cared so deeply for Y/N, and he wasn’t gonna let Rafe Cameron, of all people, ruin it. So, he did the only thing he knew; he used his fists.

Rafe choked on his collar as JJ pulled him off of Y/N. He fell backwards, a surprised gasp leaving his lips before his back hit the ground. Before Rafe could even defend himself, JJ was on top of the poor boy and punching him. The only thing Rafe could do was shield his face as JJ tried his best to punch Rafe.

Y/N was mortified. She could not believe this was happening. She had never seen JJ so angry, let alone at Rafe. Sure, JJ wasn’t the biggest fan of Kooks but to fist fight one? Besides, she couldn’t remember a time when JJ mentioned such disdain for Rafe. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to intervene.

“JJ! Stop!” She tried yelling, her voice piercing through the air. The music had stopped, and many people had begun congregating around them to see what all the fuss was about. It was no use though, even Y/N’s yelling did not stop JJ.

The only thing that stopped JJ was John B. As JJ threw his fifth punch, John B approached JJ and pulled him away from Rafe. JJ fought against John B, trying to free himself from his friend’s grasp but it was no use. John B held him in a way that was difficult for JJ to get out of.

“Let me go, bro!” JJ continued to struggle as John B’s grasp, unaware that all eyes were on him.

“Dude, stop!” John B tightened his grip on JJ.

JJ finally stopped struggling, noticing that the room got very quiet. Suddenly, his actions came rushing to him and he realized the mistake he made. When John B felt JJ relax, he finally let go. He was unsure what his friend would do but he knew he had to be there just in case.

Everyone was looking at JJ, their judgemental stares burning holes onto his skin. He felt so exposed, so embarrassed that strangers had seen him like that. But he was more worried about Y/N. He knew he made a mistake and wasn’t sure how she’d react. Knowing her, it wasn’t going to be good.

And when he looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears, he knew he had fucked up big time. She was standing off to the side, standing beside Sarah who was trying to comfort her. JJ took a few steps towards her, his face pale.

“Y/N…” JJ began, the look on his face saying it all.

But Y/N didn’t care. She just wanted one perfect night. She had never seen this side of JJ but now that she had, she was afraid. She shook her head, backing away from him. “No, leave me alone.” And with that, she turned on her heels and walked farther and farther away from him.

Sarah stood there for a moment longer, dumbfounded. “JJ, I think you need to give her some space right now.”

JJ wanted to cry. Although he was embarrassed, it didn’t matter now. He had just ruined the only good thing in his life. The dangerous pattern had finally caught up to him.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe @devcarlsons @pogueslandia @theywantedplayer @lovelyxtom @milkywqze

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hi, I love getting the cute lil wax seals on my bookmarks from you every month!! Can I ask if wax seals are commonly used in Blest, or are they just for nobles? Love you and your work!!

Hi there, aw, thank you so much for supporting me on Patreon, I'm so glad you enjoy the wax seals!! I have way too much fun picking out the colors and stamp I'm going to use, it takes forever, but I have a whole station for them set up at this point! 😂 Thank you again for your support and for your kind words, it means so much! 💖

And great question! Wax seals are the universal way to seal envelopes (there isn't any lickable adhesive on the ones in Blest), so everyone uses them, not just nobles! For Shepherd communiques, everyone just uses the official stamp, which is the symbol of the Order, but for personal messages, they use their own individual seals! These are:

Blade: when speaking as himself and not as Commander Bronwyn, he uses a generic wax seal featuring a pair of crossed swords and a shield, which is commonly used enough that it can't be traced back to him or recognized by strangers at just a glance

Trouble: he uses a generic rampant lion seal he got at a store, though he claims to want to a custom one with a bullet on it

Tallys: she uses the coat of arms for the Ironwood clan, which is basically a broad oak tree with many roots spreading through the ground, so it almost looks like a reversible image

Shery: she generally uses a butterfly seal, though she has also been known to use a pair of doves carrying a flower, depending on the occasion

Riel: he uses a custom monogrammed seal with his initials, and it's very official and definitely a huge flex, because when people see that wax seal with the RS on it, they know what's up

Chase: he uses a seal with a running fox on it, though he has also been known to use one with a corsair's ship on the sea or a rose and dagger to confuse interlopers

Red: when speaking to Mage friends, he uses a wax seal with a Mage rune on it, which will burn the letter if placed into the wrong hands or alter its contents to look innocuous to a stranger's eye. When speaking to non-Mage friends, he uses a seal with a bee

Ayla: she uses a seal with a flying eagle on it

Halek: he uses a seal with the Prince coat of arms, which is a spear dividing a shield into two fields of black and white

Briony: on a personal basis, she uses a seal featuring the crescent moon, sun, and stars, though she has occasionally used one featuring a dragon breathing lightning (the same symbol as her champion's belt from the arena) when communicating as her fighter's persona, the Stormbreaker

Lavinet: she uses the Naveen crest, which is a rose in a garden with a stem of thorns

Fun fact, the different colors of wax used for a seal also have their own meanings in the world of Blest!

Silver seals are considered neutral and are usually the 'default' color

Gold seals are used for matters of business, such as contracts or messages about exchanges

White seals are used exclusively for invitations, generally weddings or celebrations of a child's birth

Black seals are always used for delivering news of death or for letters of condolences and mourning; you do not want to get a black seal on a letter...

Plain, dark red seals are used for matters of urgency and indicate that an immediate response is needed

However, bright red seals mixed with gold or pink mixed with gold are generally romantic in nature. The symbol used for the seal here also generally matters. Like, don't use a seal with an anchor if you're trying to tell the person "let's keep things casual!"

Dark blue seals are for romantic matters of great urgency and passion: for example, a marriage proposal by letter would have a dark blue wax seal. Purple is also used, though this is rare; it indicates that the letter's contents are steamy, which is not generally something people want to advertise

Light green (sometimes mixed with gold), sky blue, or plain pale pink are used for casual letters between friends. The pale pink is more commonly seen among younger people below 18, such as schoolfriends, but it's not that unusual for adults to use it, especially for friends they've known since childhood

Orange is used for letters of praise or congratulations, such as congratulating someone on graduating or for some accomplishment

Yellow is most often associated with either rejection or spurned lovers, like if someone broke up with you via letter, you'd reply with a yellow seal to be salty about it. It's generally not seen that often, and when it is, it's never great!

Sky blue mixed with gold or white is used to convey constancy and comfort, such as when you've done something embarrassing and your friend is like, "Don't worry, I'm sure it wasn't that bad, I've got your back!!" It can also be used to either assuage, reassure, or convey homesickness

Brown is used to convey displeasure or anger

Light purple and gray (sometimes mixed) is used for formal dinner invitations

Amber is used between family members

Hope you had fun reading through this! 😂

[lazuli-bloom]

Zoo Day is Today

Cartoon Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 11,275

Your first field trip after starting work as a teacher for Miss Shannon's School For Girls. A simple trip to the zoo. You even have a student's uncle there to help you chaperone. Everything was nice and planned out, surely nothing could go wrong.

Archive

--=--=--

The morning sun steadily rose but had not yet chased off the nipping chill of the night. A shiver ran down your spine and you pulled your jacket tighter over your chest. You only brought a light coat for the day. Hopefully, if you focused on your work, the chilly bite could be easier to tolerate.

You tapped your pen against the edge of the clipboard. The papers listed off groups, schedules, notes on animals, and a map. On the page of groups, you circled the list of students assigned to you. Seven girls of which you knew only two.

You had been teaching at Miss Shannon's School for a month, but you memorized the names of the two most infamous students. Claire Brewster and Betty Juice. And lucky you, the school assigned both girls to your group. How wonderful. You prayed this field trip wouldn't end up a disaster.

The girls mingled in front of the main building, eager to get onto the buses. Once you had glossed over the list, you peered over the assemblage of students. Other teachers gathered their students to line up for the bus, and you needed to do the same.

There was no sign of Claire or Betty, so you shifted your search to the others in your group. You called out the names listed as you walked the perimeter of the cluster of girls, and one by one you gathered them.

Bertha, check. Prudence, check. Mindy, Gwen, check and check.

You accounted for over half your group and given them red bands that just left three more students. Betty and Claire were still nowhere to be seen, making a Lydia Deetz the next student for you to find.

The short redheaded girl with glasses, Bertha? Or was it Prudence? Regardless, the shorter girl pointed out a dark-haired student with hair styled in a bob cut. You thanked her and left to speak with the next student.

The girl stood off to the side next to a man that you noted bore a striking resemblance to Betty. The man's wardrobe gave a sharp contrast to the prim and proper appearances the headmistress cultivated for the school. He wore a vibrant Hawaiian shirt in magenta patterned with neon green bones. Clashing with that were his shorts striped vertically in black and white bars. Rather unusual, but to each their own.

You focused back on gathering your group and get their attention with a small cough. The two stopped their conversation and turned to you, the girl giving you a pleasant smile when she did.

"Good morning, teacher."

"Good morning, ah..." You trailed off and checked your clipboard. "Lydia. How are you?"

"Good! I can't wait to get to the zoo!"

The man chimed in saying, "Kid's been excited to go all morning. 't's all she's been talking about for the last few days."

"Uncle BJ!"

The girl huffed while the man snickered with a crooked smirk. You bit your lip and fought to keep your shoulders from bouncing from your own laugh. You cleared your throat and ignored the slight pain in your cheeks from resisting a smile.

"So then, Mr...?"

"Beetleman."

"Mr. Beetleman," you said with a nod, "Will you be helping chaperone the field trip?"

"Yep!"

"Alright. Then since Lydia is in my group, you'll be with me as well." You helped Lydia get the red band on her wrist. Just two more students. "Lydia, are you by chance close to Betty Juice? You wouldn't know where she might be, would you?"

Mr. Beetleman opened his mouth only for Lydia to cut in, saying, "She's out sick!"

You frown and nod, jotting a note on the paper. "That's unfortunate." While you didn't like the idea of a student missing out on a field trip, you couldn't help the relief that washed over you. No Betty, that only left—

"Ugh! Like, what do you mean I'm stuck with Lydia and her weird friends?"

Claire Brewster.

You took in a deep breath and let it out as a slight hiss. Before you headed over to Claire, you pointed Lydia and her uncle over to the rest of your group. They made their way to join the others and you steel yourself to talk to the irritated blonde. When Claire noticed your approach, she wore a pout on her face.

"Teacher! You can't seriously expect me to be in a group with Lydia and her weird friends. Let me switch with someone else!"

As if you hadn't asked the same thing once you saw the roster for your group.

"I'm sorry, Claire. The groups have already been assigned. Miss Shannon doesn't want there to be any switching around. Now here's your band and if you could come over with the rest of the group, we can—"

"Red? Ugh! This day just keeps getting worse! Red doesn't go with my bow, or eyes, or anything! Why can't it be pink?"

"Claire, it's just a band to keep things organized. No one is going to notice or even care, I promise. Please, come over here with the rest of the group so we can get things going."

"Fine."

You hummed on your walk back, happy to have rounded up everyone. With a quick go through attendance, you marked off all the students present. Once done, you asked Mr. Beetleman to watch the girls while you turned in the attendance sheet to the headmistress. You returned and smiled at your group. "Alright, does everyone have everything they need? Lunches, spending money?"

Most of the girls nodded, while a few checked through their bags to make sure they did. After a minute, everyone had everything in order. You nodded and flipped through your clipboard.

"Alright, we'll board the buses soon. Mr. Beetleman since you'll be helping me chaperone—"

"Oh great. I'm stuck with Lydia and her grody relative."

"Claire!" You jerked your head to her with a deep frown. "That is highly disrespectful! Apologize this instant!"

Claire huffed and gestured to the man. "But he is! Just look at him!"

You narrow your eyes at the girl, then glance to Mr. Beetleman. His appearance was definitely abnormal, with eyes a tad more sunken and yellowed than what seemed healthy. Mr. Beetleman flashed you a smile where his slight overbite showed off crooked teeth. He may be a tad odd, but that was no reason to insult the man. You gave him an apologetic smile before turning back to Claire.

"Claire. Apologize to Mr. Beetleman right now or I'm going to insist that you sit out the field trip."

You tapped your foot, waiting. She groaned, rolling her eyes before she spat out a short, insincere apology. You shook your head and rubbed at your already aching temple. This was going to be a long day.

Once given the go ahead, the teachers and chaperones ushered their groups on to the buses. They assigned your group to the last of the three, and you were the last to board. The other two teachers on board sat in the back while the students scattered across the rows, clustering in the middle of the bus.

You followed your students and watched them pick their seats. Claire sat with girls from the other group. Most of the others took their seats, intermingling as well. You had shuffled into one of the front benches and noticed Lydia and her uncle had sat behind you with one empty one open as a buffer.

You scanned over the girls, all chatting and abuzz with excitement, as the bus driver pulled out from the school grounds. Before you turned back to face forward, you made brief eye contact with Mr. Beetleman. Claire's remark replayed in your head and you glanced away, frowning. That comment didn't sit right with you. You cleared your throat to get his attention and offer another apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry for earlier. Claire is... not always the best with social skills."

He shrugged with a lopsided smile. "No skin off my nose."

You gave a slight nod and glanced over to the blonde gabbing with the other students. So young and full of potential. If only she'd apply it to things other than her vanity. You shook your head and looked back to Mr. Beetleman, who had his hand over his nose.

"Are you alright?"

"Uncle BJ is fine!" Lydia said. "He just has some allergies that have been acting up. That's all."

"What the kid said." he nasally said while holding his nose.

"Oh no, do you need an antihistamine or anything? I could break one in half so you don't get too drowsy."

"Nah, I'll be fine. Thanks though, teach."

He let go of his face and gave grinned, showing you there was nothing to worry about. You covered your mouth to hide your own growing smile.

"If you're sure. But don't be afraid to ask if your allergies get worse. I have a travel first aid kit with me."

For the rest of the drive, you triple checked the schedules and your group's tour route. The first field trip you'd be going on as a teacher for the school. A simple trip to the zoo. You wanted it to go as smooth as possible.

You could still hardly believe you landed this job. It's rare for a position to open, but the last teacher in your spot left with little notice. He said he had gotten too stressed to teach anymore. But you had heard through the school gossip that it was more likely an excuse to get away from a certain student.

You shook off those thoughts. It's best not to dwell on rumors. You needed to focus on doing the best job you could.

The bus stopped at the front entrance. Outside the window, the students from the other buses waited in rows to get into the zoo. The teachers from the back stood up once the bus stopped and lead their students out. Once it was just you and your group, you got up from your seat to do the same.

You lined up your students at the end and waited for Miss Shannon to take care of the admissions. Groups were let in one at a time, and you quadruple checked the tour plan as you waited. Finally, it was your turn to go inside.

"Alrighty girls. The first stop is the penguins."

The girls' anticipation nearly hit its breaking point. They followed you like a flock of ducklings as you navigated the park. Between the map the school provided, and the boards set up for visitors, you found your way to the Arctic section. Once in that area, however was when it got a little more tricky. You mixed up the paths and ended up taking a detour by the puffins and walruses.

After those brief stops, you lead the students to the correct enclosure. The girls ran up to the divider, noses pressed to the glass, and watched the Antarctic birds. The girls moved around to watch different penguins, looking under the water level to see the ones swimming, while the ones on land preened each other. Most the students gushed over the cute birds, and you noticed Lydia off to the side bobbing along with a penguin whose attention she caught.

You hung back and smiled at the girls. It was adorable to see the students so ecstatic. Even Claire cooed at the penguins, though you heard her comment on how the penguins should totally wear cute pink dresses rather than tuxedos.

You shook your head with a roll of your eyes.

You flipped through your papers looking for the lecture notes for the penguins and notice Mr. Beetleman had taken a few steps back. His niece sprinted from one end of the glass to the other, while the penguin on the other side followed her movements. She also interspersed her laps with snapshots of the birds.

"Looks like your niece is enjoying herself."

Mr. Beetleman turned his attention towards you. He huffed a small laugh and showed off a crooked but kind half smile. "Yeah, kid's got a soft spot for animals, no matter how big, or scary, or smelly."

Your lips twitched up in a small smile.

"What about yourself, Mr. Beetleman? Any animals that you have a soft spot for?"

"I like to think of myself as quite the connoisseur of bugs. Especially beetles."

"Is that so?" You asked with a laugh. His faux posh accent caught you off guard. You coughed into your hand and did your best to ignore the pain in your cheeks from biting back a smile. "Well, you're in luck. We go through the insectarium before we break for lunch. They have a large exhibit of bugs from all over the globe."

Most of the students voiced their disgust with groans.

"Like, we have to go see gross bugs before lunch?"

You closed your eyes and took in a breath before you bothered to turn to Claire. You forced a pleasant smile and let the air out through your nose in a short huff. "Yes. We're going through the insectarium later—"

The girls groaned and made more disgusted sounds.

"—I know not everyone likes bugs, but they are an important part of nature and we're going to be learning about them."

Most of the students made disgusted faces. Mr. Beetleman and his niece looked to be the only ones interested in the exhibit. You hummed and flipped over your papers to get back on track. Might as well start the lesson part of the tour, since everyone had their attention on you.

You read off the prepared notes, and prompted the students with questions. The short bookish girl answered most of the questions, though you encouraged the other girls to answer when they could.

Once wrapped up with the penguins, you—with the aid of Mr. Beetleman—ushered the students to the next animal on the schedule. Next up was the polar bears, which were technically Arctic and not Antarctic, but hey the zoo only had so much room available.

You arrived at the polar bears' enclosure to find them lazing. Two sat on the land in large piles of snow, while the third floated in the water. Like before, you hung back to let the students watch, but they were far less engaged this time.

Mr. Beetleman stepped back once more to let his niece watch and get photos from all angles of the bears. You hunted for the next lesson in your notes but spied Mr. Beetleman step back a tad more than last time. You paid it little mind until he said, "With all this excitement it's almost un-bear-able," under his breath.

You sputtered a laugh and raised a hand to your mouth to hold back more. Despite your attempt, however, you caught his ear. He looked to you with a half smile showing off crooked teeth.

"You like that one? Maybe you and me aren't as much of polar opposites as I thought! Seems like all these arctic animals are helping break the ice!"

You bit your lip and pressed your knuckle to your mouth, but you couldn't stop your shoulders from bouncing as you snickered. You didn't want to disturb the other visitors, but he made that difficult with his goofy puns and cute face.

You took in a breath to let out gently, only for it to get chopped up from more laughter. There were lessons to be taught. You needed to get yourself under control. Poised and proper, you could do this. You coughed and cleared your throat as quietly as possible.

You gave your fellow chaperone a playful glare before you gathered the girls to a central spot for the lesson. One or two of the students yawned as you read off the notes. You gestured to the bears as you read another factoid.

"Polar bears are the largest carnivo—what on earth?"

Your train of thought crashed when you looked out at the bears. The two on land stood on their hind legs and dived into the water. All three met in the deepest part of the pool and swam in a circle with an eerily human synchrony.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, afraid it would break the spell. But you had to know if anyone else saw that too. You pried away and found your students and many other visitors had their eyes glued to the bears. Good to know others took notice of the bears' swimming skills.

"Wow! I never knew they could swim like that!" said a taller brunette from your group.

You watched the bears again. They swam in circles, each bear matching the strokes of the others; left, then right, spin, then dive. You were at a loss for words. To witness such a spontaneous act from them, and done so well, it was as if it were magic.

The routine lasted a minute, ending with the bears looking around, confused. Whatever showboating spirit overtook them, it had left. Even they didn't know what had possessed them to do that.

You blinked a few times and gathered your thoughts. The lesson continued, but the girls and you glanced at the bears several times throughout the rest. The polar bears, however, returned to lazing around their enclosure. When you finished the lesson, you announced the next stop.

"Okay, next stop is the seals!"

On the walk over, the students chattered among themselves, still baffled by the polar bears' routine. Mr. Beetleman laughed with his niece, though you couldn't hear the topic. He caught you looking back, and you whipped forward to focus on leading the way.

Much like the last few times, the girls rushed to the glass to watch while you and Mr. Beetleman stayed back. You kept your eyes forward, watching over both the students and the seals. Despite your focus, you still noticed Mr. Beetleman taking a few side steps in your direction.

"I see this one gets the seal of approval from the kids."

You press your lips tight, redirecting your laugh as more stuttered exhales. With a smile growing on your face, you turned to get a better look at the man and find him sporting a grin of his own.

You cleared your throat and in the most deadpan tone you could muster, you said, "Mr. Beetleman, that has got to be the seal-iest thing I've ever heard."

He blinked and his features sank a bit, only for his grin to grow back even stronger. "Animal humor, you know I love it!"

You let out a giggle and shake your head. "So how are you and your niece enjoying the trip so far, Mr. Beetleman?"

"Lydia's loving it, and I can't complain much. But You don't have to keep bein' so formal. Ya can just call me BJ."

"BJ? Hmm, may I ask what it's short for?"

He stiffened at your question before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "Short for? Yeah, it's uh—"

"Uncle Ben!" You and Mr. Beetleman turned to his niece Lydia, waving him over. She pointed to one seal flopping around on the land part of its enclosure. "Isn't it so cute?"

He walked over to Lydia. She took photos, some with her uncle posing in them. You chuckled to yourself and gave the girls one more minute before the next lesson.

Afterwards you moved on to the next animal in the arctic section, followed by another, and another. Soon your group made it through the entire section and moved on to the next. From the Arctic to South America, followed by Europe, then Africa.

In between your lessons as the students gawked and cooed at the various animals, you laughed more and more at Mr. Beetleman—no, BJ's jokes. You even got him to laugh at a few of your own jokes. There was a childish sense of pride and glee that swelled in you any time you got him to laugh.

"You know, teach, seeing all these lions is giving me the urge to sing." BJ said as the kids watched the large cats.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, breaking out into 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' is just a whim away. A whim away. A whim away."

You bit your knuckle and shook your head at him as you fought back tears and laughter.

"Trust me, teach, I ain't lion. It's a real paw-blem."

You couldn't hold back your fit of laughter anymore and snorted louder than you'd like. A few of the girls looked back at you and BJ, and you hid your burning face behind your clipboard. You take a few quick breaths to calm yourself, fighting the smile on your lips as you did. Once calm again, you shoot the man a playful glare.

"You are the worst, have you no since of pride?"

He beamed at you and you call the girls over to get the lesson started before he can crack more jokes. As you went through the last lesson of the African section, you calmed more, but your smile stayed plastered on your face. Once the lesson wrapped up and you asked the last of the questions, you announce the next destination.

"Time to head to the insectarium."

Most of the girls groan and make disgusted protests. You let out a sigh and open your mouth to say something, but BJ spoke up first.

"You heard your teacher, kids. Gotta get going!"

BJ ushered the kids along to get them moving, and you knitted your brows in a mix of amusement and bewilderment. BJ had helped keep the students together and moving along, sure, but that was the first time he did so with any sense of diligence. The man must really like bugs.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and lead the group. With the map on your clipboard you follow the asphalt path to the insectarium, weaving around the growing crowds as you made your way there. Unlike the other animal enclosures, the insectarium was a building all to itself. A man exited the building, towing two young boys, and blew passed you. You huffed and held open the door as BJ ushered in the group of less than enthused girls.

The warm, muggy air hit you as you followed the girls inside the building. Countless displays of bugs filled the room, lining the bright orange walls and placed in various rows. Signs throughout the room showed pictures of spiders, praying mantises, centipedes, and scorpions, as well as butterflies, dragonflies, and beetles. While the floor was spacious and open, the displays formed a few nooks and crannies that obscured parts.

The students stayed clustered around you, not that eager to venture a glance at the displays. Most of them, anyway. Lydia grabbed her uncle's hand and pulled him away to a section full of spiders. Two girls you noticed hung around Lydia, the tall brunette and short redhead, also mustered up the courage to break off and peruse the exhibits as well.

The remaining three followed you and didn't dare approach any of the glass displays. You hummed and scanned the room. Perhaps if you showed them the tamer and prettier looking insects, the students would be more engaged. You gestured to them and guided them through the displays.

Brightly colored butterflies and gem-like dragonflies darted in their large cases off to the side, away from the more creepy crawly bugs. The girls peered around you and took a few steps over to see the enchanting patterns on some of the butterflies' wings.

Except for Claire.

"Teacher! I don't want to be here. Like, it's just a bunch of gross bugs."

"Bugs are very important, Claire. Here, do you like flowers?"

"Well duh. Flowers are pretty and they smell nice."

"Well, flowers need to be pollinated in order for there to be more flowers. And do you know how flowers get pollinated?"

"No."

"Bugs. Bees, and butterflies, and even some beetles. They go from flower to flower and get pollen all over. Which helps the flowers make more flowers. Bugs are an essential part of a lot of other animals' diets. If there weren't any bugs a lot of animals would go hungry."

"Gross, who would want to eat bugs!"

"Birds, lizards, fish. Heck, even people sometimes."

"Ew! Nasty! I would never eat a bug. Like, why eat that when I could have something fancy like lobster?"

You bit your lip and held back a laugh. This poor, naïve child. You debated on whether you should tell her. Before you decided, Claire huffed and marched over to watch at the butterflies with the others. It was probably best to keep quiet on the matter, but boy was that child in for a rude wake up call.

You sigh and left to check on the others. The brunette and redhead—Prudence and Bertha, or was it Bertha and Prudence? Which ever way it was, the pair watched an orchid mantis climb flower stocks. The shorter one in glasses smiled at you and read out loud the plaques for the orchid mantis. You asked them a few things on the insect, and the brunette chimed in with some answers. You praised the two and smiled.

After jotting notes, you scanned the room for Lydia and BJ, only to frown when you saw no trace of them. You tapped your pen against the clipboard and scanned the room again. Claire was still with Mindy and Gwen at the butterflies. Bertha and Prudence were right next to you. So where were Lydia and BJ?

You walked through the rows of exhibits searching for Lydia, but there wasn't any sign of her. Prickles of fear crawled up your spine, and you hurried your pace. You tapped your pen faster against your board to let out your building anxiety, but it never spent enough energy. Once you looped back to Prudence and Bertha, you asked them if they had seen Lydia and her uncle.

The redhead—Prudence—pointed out where she last saw Lydia. You thanked her and weaved your way through the exhibits as fast as you could without running. The displays jutted out to form a nook tucked away from the rest of the floor. At one display, with eyes glued to the tarantula in the case, was your missing student. You put a hand to your chest and let out a relieved sigh. The sound caught the dark-haired girl's attention, and she waved you over to watch with her.

"Teacher look! Isn't she pretty!"

You crouched to look at the fuzzy arachnid meandering across the gravel floor of its enclosure. Dark brown hairs covered its body save for the legs. Stripes ran down its legs in long thin bars of the same dark brown and contrasted with ones in ivory. You looked at the name for the specimen and read it.

"The Costa Rican zebra tarantula, or striped-knee tarantula. I see where your uncle gets his fashion advice." You said. It got a laugh out of her, which got you chuckling as well. After a quick sweep of the area you realize BJ wasn't there. Your lips sank into a slight frown as you hummed in thought. "Speaking of, where is he?"

"Oh! Um. Uncle BJ said he had to go to the little boy's room."

A thunderous clatter cut through the air, followed by shattering glass and screams. A wave of icy fear crashed over you. You told Lydia to stay put as you bolted around the corner to see what happened.

Your eyes grew to saucers. Toppled displays, shattered cases, and an angry swarm of bugs filled the room. Those with wings whizzed by, while others spread out from the crash sites as an infestation.

Your students and the other patrons scrambled to get any distance possible from the bugs. You bit your lip. What do you do? What can you do? Keeping the girls safe was your utmost responsibility. You tightened your grip on the clipboard charge to the group, swatting at any bugs daring to cross you.

"Girls! Outside!"

You darted straight for the front door and gave the group a sharp look. The students wore various nervous expressions, not wanting to go through the swarm of bugs to reach the door.

"NOW!"

Bertha and Prudence were the first of your girls to budge. They ran out, followed by the other patrons, then the last of your group. You ran out hot on their heels and got your girls grouped together. You counted heads—Bertha, Prudence, Claire, Gwen, Mindy. Five. Where?

Your heart sank.

"Stay out here. Stay away from the doors, get back and wait for me or a Zookeeper."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pivoted. You rushed back in and find the swarm had spread to fill the now empty room. Among the infestation you could see bright warning coloration. Whether the colors of true venomous insects or mimics, you didn't want to hang around and find out. You held up your clipboard and took in a few steadying breaths.

"Lydia! Where are you?"

"Over here!"

You rushed over to the voice, avoiding as many bugs as possible. Despite that, they grazed your exposed skin and buzzed passed your ear. One of them even bumped up against your lip. You pushed your shivers down, dead set on getting your student out of there.

You looped around the displays to find the path of least resistance, only to stop dead in your tracks when you get to Lydia. Wasps, several of them, all buzzing between you and Lydia. You tapped your nails against the clipboard as your mind raced to work out what to do.

You bit down on the clipboard, hard enough to hold it, and stripped off your jacket. You shuffled things, so the board was under your arm and held the jacket in both your hands.

"Lydia. I'm going to count to three, and you're going to run over to me. Okay? Run as fast as you can."

She nodded, and you counted.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

Lydia bolted over to you, getting the wasp's attention. You threw your coat over her and scooped her into your arms. Once you had a hold of her, you made a mad dash to the front door, as angry buzzing chased you. You reached out for the handle, yanking it as hard as you could, only for it to stay closed. You held Lydia tighter and pulled again. Still nothing.

"Shit. Why would they lock the fucking door!" A sharp stabbing pain shot through your calf, and you buckled some from the pain. "Shit!"

"Teacher? Is—"

"Shi—um sorry. It's okay. Just got to find another way out."

You turned to search for the emergency exit and winced when you moved your stung leg. The buzz of insect wings beat against your ears, and you swore it was getting worse. You wanted to cover your ears, but that wasn't an option while you held Lydia.

"Ribbit."

You flinched and found a fairly large frog munching away on what remained of a wasp. The chihuahua sized frog sat staring up at you for a moment with bright yellow eyes. Its pattern and coloration reminded you of a poison dart frog, but no species of them grew bigger than a few inches at most.

Once the monochrome striped frog ate the last of the wasp, it hopped away on long legs ending with bright red toes. Its tongue lashed out and snatched more bugs, devouring them in seconds and reducing the swarm at an impressive rate.

As the frog thinned out the bug population, you carried Lydia towards the emergency exit on the far side of the building. A long green blur shot out in front of you, and you flinched back with a squeak. You glanced to where the blur came from to find the frog retracting its striped green tongue with a freshly caught beetle.

"Teacher? What's going on?"

"It's alright, this frog just startled me."

"A frog?" Lydia asked, squirming in your arms. She pulled down your coat to look and when they made eye contact, the frog croaked at her too.

"He must be in froggy heaven with all these bugs out. But we still need to get out to the others. And wait, where's your uncle? Oh no. Is he still in here too?"

"I'm sure uncle BJ is fine! He's probably just... getting something to eat after he went to the restroom."

You hummed, still worried something could have happened, but you still needed to get Lydia and yourself out. The frog croaked again before it hopped away to catch more lunch. You huffed with a small smile and continued to the exit.

Once outside with the door shut behind you, you set Lydia down and walked her to the rest of the group. The girls clamored around you as you approached, asking to know what happened. When your responses didn't give them the answers they wanted, some students switched to bombarding Lydia with questions.

"Girls, please. I'm not sure what all caused the bugs to get out. I'm sure the zookeepers can handle it from here."

"Teacher, was it scary to go back in there?"

You offered a half smile and gave the students a few answers, hoping they'd more readily follow instructions with a sated curiosity. Once they asked their questions, you asked one of your own, wanting to know what happened while you were getting Lydia.

Apparently one zookeeper, thinking everyone had cleared out the building, locked the front door before running off to get help. You pressed your lips tight when you heard that. On one hand, you understood the keeper's actions, but on the other they should have poked their head in to at least check!

"Hey teach, everything alright?"

You whipped around to find BJ sporting a sheepish grin.

"Mr. Beetleman! Oh, thank goodness you're okay. Yes, everything is alright. Everyone is here." You said and heaved out a sigh. You glanced back to the girls. "Alright, let's all sit down and make sure no one else got bit or stung."

You guided the students over to benches on the side and had them sit. One by one you examined them, checking arms, legs, faces and necks. Once you checked over every student, you breathed a sigh of relief. No one had gotten bitten by any of the bugs. You took a seat and tended to your sting when there was a yelp from one student.

"Like, ew! Something bit me!"

You got up to look over Claire again and found a mosquito on her upper arm. You pinched it between your fingers and dusted it off her.

"Ew! Gross!"

"Well, it's gone now. You can wash off your arm before we break for lunch."

Claire pouted, and you did your best not to show the flicker of annoyance on your face. She's just a child and the whole bug escape had everyone on edge. You blew out a small breath and went back to tending to your minor injury.

Once washed off and slapped with a bandage, you got up and stretched your leg. It still hurt, but was tolerable to wait for the painkillers to take effect.

The staff returned shortly after and pushed everyone further back. You asked if they needed you to stay and give any testimony, but the gruff staff member just told you to leave the area. Rude.

You huffed at him and pivoted to march away, ushering the girls away. If he needed nothing from you, then so be it. The girls needed to get to lunch, anyway. As you guided the girls away, the man let out a shout. You looked over your shoulder to see him swatting at the air, likely being honed in on by a few mosquitoes. You huffed once more and looked forward. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed BJ chuckling to himself with a few glances back of his own.

The school organized for everyone to meet for lunch in the same picnic spot. When you arrived, you got the kids to wash up before heading to the tables for lunch. The group scattered and mingled with the other groups already dining. You smiled only for it to fall as you looked for a seat. The students took up most of the tables, with the other teachers taking up one of their own. And the teachers' table was so crowded, asking to sit there would just be awkward. You'd only been teaching at the school for a month and had yet to make friends with any of the other teachers. Sure, you were professional and polite, but that didn't mean you were much more than acquaintances.

An empty table off to the side sat a tad ways away from the other tables. You hummed to yourself and walked over to claim it. As you mindlessly nibbled away at your meal, you watched over the other tables to make sure the girls didn't get too rowdy.

"Excuse me teacher, may we sit with you?"

You snapped out of your trance and found Lydia smiling at you and still wearing your jacket. She held her uncle's hand and pulled him closer to the table. You blinked and swallowed your bite of food with a nod.

"Oh, uh, sure. I don't mind."

She grinned and sat diagonally to you, leaving her uncle to sit directly across from you. Lydia set her lunch box on the table and took off your jacket. She haphazardly folded it and leaned over the table to hand it back to you.

"Thank you for saving me. Those wasps were furious."

"Yeah, I kinda got the point back there. My leg still hurts a bit. Oh, and um... If you could not mention my more colorful word choices to anyone, I would appreciate that."

BJ tilted his head and asked, "Colorful word choices? Do bugs normally make ya shout out the colors of the rainbow? Ooh! What color would you say for spiders?"

"Uncle BJ, that's not what they meant."

"It's not?"

You bit your knuckle, trying and failing to hide your laughter from bubbling out. The pair took notice, and you waved them off while you fought to stop laughing.

"I'm sorry," you said in between laughs, "You two are just really cute."

Lydia giggled into her hand while BJ scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out. You bit harder on your knuckle as your shoulders bounced. How were they so cute?

You got your laughter to subside and resumed eating your lunch. Lydia did the same, but BJ had nothing in front of him.

"Are you not going to eat, Mr. Beetleman?"

"Nah, I got some grub back when we were at the bug house. And ya really don't have to keep calling me that. Like I said, just call me BJ."

"Right. I'm sorry Mr. Beetle—um, BJ."

A smile stretched across his face as his nickname rolled off your tongue. You smiled back with a giggle.

Lydia looked back over her shoulder and said, "I think I hear Bertha and Prudence calling me to go sit with them! Thanks again, teacher."

She dashed off with her lunch a moment later. Curiously, it looked like her friends had only just rounded the corner. But you couldn't blame the kid for wanting to sit with her peers over adults.

"So, um, BJ. Are you okay after the little... insect fiasco? I'm sorry I forgot to ask earlier, I was just so worried the girls might have gotten hurt."

"Oh yeah, babes, I'm fine, no need to worry about me."

You blinked once or twice with a growing warmth on your cheeks. The new moniker caught you off guard. You murmured the word to yourself and felt the warmth intensify. Another giggle bubbled up in you, and this time you didn't suppress it.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay, too. Though I missed you while we were going through the insectarium. I would have grassed you'd hop at the opportunity to make all the insect puns you could, Mr. Beetle-man."

"Nah, jokes like that really bug me."

"That's hard to bee-lieve."

"Glad my joke didn't fly over your head."

"I'm gnat that gullible."

He snickered with a grin, showing off crooked teeth. That, strangely enough, suited him. You couldn't help but join in with a chuckle of your own. He certainly was cute, even if he didn't agree. Your laughter trailed off a moment later with a warm hum.

"So, BJ, do you live in Peaceful Pines or somewhere close?"

"Eeh... My place is kinda close, but hard to get to. It's this out of the way neighborhood that you've probably never heard of."

"I suppose so, considering I'm pretty new to Peaceful Pines myself. What do you do for a living?"

"Oh. Well... I~ 'm... A musician!"

"A musician?"

"Yeah! In between gigs right now."

"What do you play?"

"Better question is what can't I play! Guitar, drums, keyboard, ukulele, armpit!"

That last one got a sudden laugh out of you, and you bit your lip to stop your abrupt laughter. "My, that's quite the assortment of instruments." BJ's smile stretched at your compliment and you couldn't help but smile back. "Have you written any of your own songs?"

"Oh yeah! Loads of songs! Smells Like Ten Spirits, Ghoul Is In The Hearse, Boo-hemian Rhapsody."

"Sounds spooky. I wouldn't mind hearing you play sometime," you said with a small giggle.

Whatever he planned on saying died in his throat, and he pressed his lips tight for a minute. You could have sworn that his pale tone flushed with a bit more color at that moment. Which honestly got you to giggle more.

"Really?"

"Of course! I'd love to hear you play! I love all kinds of music. What sorts of genres do you play? Rock? Metal? You mentioned a keyboard, do you play any electronic?"

He glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck, still sporting more color than normal. But he wore a smile on his face, so that's good.

"Ah, you know, a bit of this and a bit of that. I don't know what genre they'd actually fall under."

"Well, I'd still love to hear it."

"Heh, yeah. Maybe sometime."

You smiled and took a few more bites of your lunch. Between bites you asked about the town and what was there. Sure you knew the bigger things like where the grocery store was, but you had yet to venture out and explore Peaceful Pines. BJ made outlandish claims concerning the town, like how he and his niece set up a store one time and everyone in town clamored to buy from them. You rolled your eyes and listened to his yarn, smiling as he got invested into telling his stories.

When lunch ended you rounded up your group, the other teachers doing the same. Some girls grumbled over having to part with their friends in other groups—Claire—most other students fell in line with little fuss.

As the students cleared out from the tables, other zoo patrons overtook them. One group being a man with two boys loudly griping something or other about schools. You shook your head and focused on looking after your students.

After counting everyone, you lead the group to finish your tour through the zoo. The next stop on the schedule had you at a smaller farm-like section. You guided the girls to the front of the gated area and lead them into the main pen. Various cute domesticated animals stood around with the odd zookeeper milling around, supervising.

"Alright girls, you have some time to go see the animals. Please be gentle!"

The kids scattered, seeking different animals. As they left, you overheard Claire voice her disgust regarding the smell of the stinky farm animals. You let out a sigh and rubbed at your temple.

"I don't get what she's complaining about. This place smells great!"

You sputtered a laugh and glanced sidelong at BJ. Your lips curled into a half smile as you shook your head.

"BJ, you are—a very strange man."

"Hey babes, 'Strange' is my middle name."

"Is it now? Ben J. Strange Beetleman?"

"Uh... Yep. That's my name don't wear it out!"

"You're a goof." you said laughing. You scanned over the large pen and saw the students with animals. At least this time you had an unobstructed view of all of them.

"So, teach, how you liking your job with the school?"

You blinked and glanced at him before you thought over an answer. "It's been tricky, but I'm extremely thankful to have gotten this job. I still can't believe the last teacher just left though."

"Mr. Greener?"

"Yes actually. You knew him?"

"Yeah, he was a piece of shit! Lyds put a lot of work into a group project but because he hated me—my other niece Betty, he flailed them!"

"Oh dear, please try not to let the girls hear that language," you said. The distance between you and the girls made it unlikely that any of them could hear your conversation. But you'd still wanted to be careful. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, though. Did you speak to the headmistress to get your nieces' grades corrected?"

"Eh. Sorta. Except I went and saw Mr. Greener personally."

"I hope he was reasonable."

"Yeah. Nothing a bit of juicing couldn't solve."

"J-juicing?" you asked, tilting your head. "Like, you went out for drinks?"

He flinched and rubbed the back of his head. BJ shifted his weight from one leg to the other before he pointed a thumb in Lydia's direction. "Something like that. Hey, I'm going to check on Lyds."

"Oh, of course. I should check on the other girls too."

He nodded and jogged over to his niece and her friends. He was far enough away that you couldn't make out what he and the girls were saying. Whatever it was, the girls giggled, and BJ ran his fingers through his pale blond hair as he glanced away.

You chuckled to yourself and looked over your clipboard. As you flipped through the pages, a loud bleat came from behind you. A lamb sneaked up to you in search of affection. You knelt to dote on the small lamb and it bleated at you more. After you cooed at the baby for a minute you stood back up, you still needed a to check on the students.

You circled around the petting zoo pen and counted each of the girls. A bonus of your walk was the chance to find other animals on their lonesome and in need of pets. Claire and a girl with a ponytail found rabbits to hold. One student was with a small flock of chickens, while Lydia and her friends gave a goat love and affection.

You made it to a corner of the pen away from most of the other animals save for a lone donkey and resting ducks. You smiled to the donkey and stepped closer, gently reaching out a hand to give the cutie a pat on the head.

The donkey enjoyed the attention and butted its head into your hand more. You giggled and scratched the top of its mane, which appeared to be significantly lighter than what was common for donkeys. Then again, given that it also had zebra stripes, it may be a hybrid.

You left to speak with the girls only for the donkey to follow you. It nudged your free hand asking for more pets, and you laughed. You broke every time and gave the little donkey more pats and scratches as you made your way to check in with the students.

You got over to Lydia, Bertha, and Prudence and greeted them. After a quick hello to them, you end up getting another nudge from the donkey. You caved yet again and patted its head.

Lydia gave the donkey an accusing look, and it responded with a huff. You chuckled at the exchange.

"Is something the matter?"

"No teacher, I'd just keep an eye on that donkey if I were you."

"Oh, he's harmless," you said and bent down to pet the animal's head, "he just likes the attention. Doubt this poor guy is as popular as the other animals here."

You scratch along the back of its ear down to the back of its jaw. The donkey, in response, leaned its cheek into your palm.

"Such a sweetheart."

It blew its lips at you and got a laugh out of you.

"No? You sure?" It huffed at you and you scratched its cheek more. "Alright, have it your way."

You gave it one more pat on the head before you stood. The donkey, despite its chagrin, still followed you. Throughout your check in, the striped donkey nudged at you, demanding more affection. You checked in with Gwen amid the chickens, then proceeded to Mindy and Claire.The pair each cradled a bunny. You greeted them as you walked up and asked how they were doing. The donkey took a few steps closer to Claire and brayed loudly in her face. It startled the rabbit she held, causing it to squirm out of her arms and hit the ground running.

"Ugh! You stupid, ugly thing! You scared off my cute little bunny!"

You took a step, wanting to get her to calm down in case she got the animals upset. Before you could, the donkey brayed in her face again and dropped to the dirt. It rolled on the ground and kicked up an enormous dust cloud that got in your eyes. The girls started coughing, and you ushered them away from the donkey, enjoying his dirt bath.

"Come on, let's see if you can get the bunny back. Or maybe there's another animal here you'd like to play with."

The blonde huffed as she adjusted her bow. She said nothing and marched off in search of another rabbit to hold. You sighed and spared a glance at the donkey wallowing. It rolled onto its legs, tucking them under its body, and looked your way before it blew a raspberry at you.

When the time came to head to the next destination, you got the students to line up near the entrance of the petting zoo. Lydia and her uncle lagged behind, and you swept the area to see where they might have gone off to. The only real hiding spot would be the large open barn.

You turned a corner and could hear BJ's voice before you saw him. "What? I'm telling you, Lyds, it was an act! I was just playing the part."

You stepped closer and cleared your throat to get the pair's attention. Both their heads jerked your way, and you gave a half smile. "It's time to go. We need to get to the Asian section of animals next."

Lydia's face lit up, and she grabbed BJ's hand. She pulled him along, saying, "Let's go! I can't wait to see pandas!"

You shook your head as she dragged him passed you. However, you called after them when you got a look at BJ's back.

"Goodness BJ, did you fall down? You're covered in dirt."

You closed the gap between you and dusted off his back. Some of the light brown dirt came off, but the shirt needed to go through the wash to get off the rest of it. Once you wiped off all the dirt you could, you smiled at him and lead the way back to the others.

You held the gate open for everyone. The girls chatted among themselves, still gushing about the cute animals. As BJ passed by, you noticed his face flushed again. You hoped his allergies weren't too severe, but he never asked for an antihistamine, so they must have been tolerable.

You fished through your bag for the bottle and bumped into the arm of a man. You stepped to the side and apologized. His sunburnt features twisted into a sneer. He said nothing as he walked with his two screaming boys into the petting zoo. You tapped your finger against a metal piece on your bag before you hurried off to get back ahead of your group.

You lead the group through the other continents, showing the students animals from Asia followed by North America. You and BJ kept up your jokes while the girls watched the different animals on the tour. To your surprise, BJ even sprinkled in a few more questions about yourself between jokes.

You shared your favorite movies with him, a story about an awful vacation you had a few years back, and what insects you were fond of the most. BJ then told you his own answers. Like how The Exorcist was his favorite comedy, he hated trips to his aunt and uncle's place, and how beetles were his absolute favorite bugs. No surprise on that last one.

You lead the group to the last of the continents for your tour. Your chest ached as you counted the handful of animals left to visit, but you put on a smile and lead the students through the Australian part of the zoo. The girls cooed at the kangaroos and flinched away from crocodiles in the middle of their own lunch. BJ even flinched away from the large perentie lizard that, as far as you could tell, was just soaking up the sun in a nice little sandy spot. When you got to the last animal on the list, the girls rushed to the railing.

"Hey! Don't climb on the railing! Get down from there!"

"But like, I can't see the koala bears!"

"I said get down Claire. And they're not bears."

The girl did as told, but she groaned and griped. You frowned, but let it be so long as she nor the others climbed up again. The kids had trouble getting good vantage points, but with time everyone found spots to watch the koalas. Once the kids settled, BJ stepped back to crack a few more jokes with you.

"Goodness, BJ, you sure have a vast pool of jokes to pull from."

He cracked a half-smirk-half-smile at you. "Well, it's nothing but koala-ety jokes from me babes."

You laughed harder and caught yourself a moment later with a cough into your fist. "BJ, I've been meaning to ask; do you help chaperone for the school often?"

"Not really. Came this time cause Lyds was beggin' me to come along with her. Sweet girl, wants to spend as much time with her uncle as she can."

You smiled and looked back at the girls. Only for your blood to chill. "Claire!"

Your shout shocked the blonde scaling the bars. She lost her grip and fell back onto the ground. You scowl and march over to her. With your hands on your hips, you tapped your foot, waiting for her to get back to her feet.

"I told you not to climb the railing. What if you fell in?"

"But I can't see them!"

"If you won't listen to instructions, you can stand back next to me."

"Ew! Gross."

Claire wasn't happy in the slightest, and neither were you. You stood closer to the railing so Claire could still see. However, standing with her put a stop to your banter with BJ. You sighed and mindlessly checked over your clipboard for the last lesson.

A few minutes later you rattled off the educational part of the tour. It didn't last long, only five minutes, and once you finished reading, that was it. No more lessons. No more tour.

"Alright. That's it. We got a bit of time left before we need to head back to the buses."

"Teacher?" the tall brunette said. "Can we go by the gift shop? I want to get something for my mom."

You checked the map. It was on the way to the buses, so you didn't see any harm in perusing the shop for a while. You nodded, and the girls got excited. You showed BJ the location of the shop and guided the kids there.

After the twists and turns of the zoo pathways, and weaving through the growing number of patrons attending the zoo, your group makes it to the gift shop closest to the front gate.

You crossed into the shop where colorful souvenirs stacked high on every wall. Shirts in every color of the rainbow lined two of the wall, along with hats and tote bags. Stuffed animals of all sorts piled into the shelves of another part of the wall. Display stands covered most of the sales floor, packing in as much products as the building could hold. The girls scatted the instant you stepped inside, each drawn to different areas of the store. You rolled your eyes and strolled through the shop, interested to see if anything jumped out at you.

Claire and Mindy played with the plushies. The two pulled the smaller toys from the shelves and checked each one. As you passed by, Mindy asked you to check the price of the large giraffe toy on top of one of the floor displays. You found the tag of the toy nearly as tall as her and told her the steep price. She frowned and hugged the smaller giraffe toy in her arms tighter.

She went back to playing with Claire, and you moved on to check on the other girls. Bertha, Prudence and Gwen examined tumbled rocks that sat in a large bin. Prudence meticulously inspected rocks before deciding whether to place in the velvet pouch. Bertha and Gwen, in contrast, didn't scrutinize the rocks they put in their velvet pouches.

You passed them by with a smile and wondered to a corner of the shop stocked with candy. Odd that none of your girls browsed that section.

You shrugged to yourself and looked over the selection. Packages of chocolates, bags of gummies, jars filled with rock candy, and many, many more types of sweets crammed into that corner display. You grabbed one thing for yourself and notice peculiar lollipops next to it. The longer you looked at the lollipops, the more you thought it a good idea to buy one as well.

You grabbed one and took your selections up to the register to pay. The cashier rang up your items, and you handed them the payment as a booming voice cut through the air. You and most everyone in the shop turned to find a sunburnt man jostling two rowdy boys into the store. You sighed but turned back to finish your transaction. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

Once paid for, you take your candies, and head over to check on the last two members of the group. Lydia and her uncle compared boxes of solid white figurines in need of painting. You glanced over the various sets for sale, dinosaurs, birds, savanna animals, fish. Lydia held a box of the dinosaurs and looked it over with a slight frown.

"Can't decide which one you want?" You asked.

"I was hoping they'd have the one with bugs. I can never find that one."

You hummed and looked over the shelf. Birds, birds, fish, dinosaurs, birds, oh? You leaned closer and pulled out the front kits, handing them off to BJ. You grabbed the kit from way in the back and handed that one to Lydia.

"Deadly voo! I can't believe you found it!"

"They always hide the good stuff in the back."

"Thank you!" She rushed off to the register, clutching her prize. You chuckled and turned to BJ, still holding the stack of other kits. "Oh dear. Here." You helped him put the kits back on the shelf and freed up his arms. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, you're fine. Plus, you helped Lyds get that kit she's been wanting."

You breathed out a small laugh and gave him a half smile as you fiddled with something in your coat pocket. "Oh!" You pulled out the lollipop and handed it to him. "Thought you might like this since you said you were a 'connoisseur of bugs'."

He studied the lollipop, where the transparent pink candy encased a whole cricket. BJ grew a lopsided smile on his face and he put the candy in his shirt's chest pocket.

"Thanks babes! Save that for later."

"What do you think you're doing? Get out of the way, you brat!" The booming voice from earlier cut through the room again.

You spun around and find the man glaring down at Claire and Mindy. Hackles raised, you darted straight over to your students. You pulled the girls behind you and away from the upset man.

"Is there a problem?" you asked in a tone so sharp it could have cut diamonds.

"Yeah, these stupid girls of yours are in my way."

"Sir. I'm sure if you had asked politely they would have moved."

The man leaned to sneer at you. The faint stench of alcohol drifted on his breath. You glared back with your nostrils flared.

"Ow! Hey quit it!"

You break eye contact with the man to find the other girls getting pelted with rocks by the man's two rowdy boys.

"Stop that this instant!" you barked

"Hey, don't you go telling my boys what to do!"

"It's showtime!"

The lights flickered, casting the entire store in shadow for a moment. When the lights turned back on, the head of the giraffe toy had lowered to separate you and the man. The toy faced the man, and you swore it leaned in closer to him and said, "Hey, how's it going."

The toy's head swung at the man, decking him square in the face. The man reeled back and stumbled to the floor. You took that opportunity to remove yourself and grabbed the girls' shoulders to usher them to the other side of the store. You left them with Lydia up front by the cashier—on the phone with what sounded like security.

A deep scream bellowed out. Stuffed animals covered the man on the floor. He squirmed, but couldn't sit up, let alone get to his feet. You spared a disgusted glower at him before darting over to round up the other half of your group.

The boys chased your students into a corner and pelted the girls with their arms full of rocks. You grit your teeth and barked at the two to move. The boys turned. The younger of the two stuck out his tongue while the other said they didn't have to listen to you.

A second later, the boys screamed out and dropped the rocks. Beetles crawled up the two's arms and they both frantically flung their arms to get the bugs off them. The younger started wailing for his dad—still pinned to the floor by stuffed animals. The boys ran over to their father and you grabbed the girls to escort them to the rest of your group.

BJ stood with the other half of the group, laughing at the misfortune of the disaster family. You got the girls accounted for, triple checking you had everyone, and asked the cashier if you needed to stay. The poor kid looked like a deer in the headlights. They couldn't be more than a year out of high school. The cashier made another call and after which they said it was alright for your group to leave.

From there you lead the group back to the front gates and met up with the rest of the school. It wasn't long after that you and the girls boarded the bus. Once you sat, your head started swimming as the last bit of adrenaline drained out of you. It was maybe ten minutes into the drive home that you let out a deep breath and tried to collect your thoughts.

"Are you okay, teacher?"

You sat up and looked back to the row behind you. Lydia sat with her uncle, with her brows knitted in concern. Your mouth felt dry, and you swallowed to relieve the discomfort before answering.

"I've been better. But no one got seriously hurt, so there's that." You lolled your head onto the back of the bench and hissed out a small laugh through your teeth. "Got a crazy story to tell people now. First the bugs, then the jerk in the gift shop."

You heard movement in the seat behind you, followed by BJ's chuckle. "Crazy stories are the best kind!"

"They are after the fact, but between that jerk in the gift and the bug break out earlier, I am very much done with today. My leg still hurts from that wasp sting. If not for that little frog I would have gotten a lot more stings."

"I suppose the frog took a liking to you," Lydia said, "just like that donkey at the petting zoo."

You closed your eyes and sighed once more. BJ muttered something that you didn't bother to decipher. When he spoke clearly, he said, "Besides the minor mishaps, that was a fun trip though!"

You huffed out a dry laugh, but couldn't muster the energy to reply right away. When you did, you asked them to let you rest your eyes for the trip back. They agreed to, and you mumbled a thanks.

Regardless of whether you crossed over into a proper sleep, you managed a semblance of rest by the time the bus pulled up to the school. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes before glancing out the window. The students filed off the bus, followed by the other teachers. You got your things and left just behind the other teachers.

The crowd outside the bus thinned at the edges as students left the school grounds for home. You got to the edge near the building to watch over the students leaving. Among them you caught sight of Lydia and her uncle BJ. You bit your lip a tad worried you came across as rude earlier. An urge to correct that mistake overcame you, and you scurried over to catch them.

"Lydia, wait."

"Is something wrong, teacher?"

"No. Well, possibly. I wanted to apologize if I came across as rude on the bus. After that incident in the gift shop I felt rather drained."

"I understand. I didn't think you were rude."

You gave a soft smile to the girl. "I guess I should let you head home now. I'll see you in class, Lydia. Oh. And BJ, I... hope to see you around too."

"Ya really mean that, teach?"

"Please, you don't have to be so formal," you said with a laugh. You told him your name, and he repeated it to himself with a smile. "I enjoyed your company and wouldn't mind spending more time with you. Perhaps you could even show me around town."

He blinked at you a few times before the biggest grin split his face. "You got it, babes! BJ's Peaceful Pines Town Tours! Just say the word and I'll show you everything from here to the Neitherworld!"

"The Neitherworld? What?"

"Ah, uncle Beej, I think we should get going now. I need to get home for dinner."

"Oh. Right."

They waved you a farewell. You waved one back as you bit your lip and chuckled. Such a strange duo. Especially her uncle. But you've always liked the strange and unusual.

[sabraeal]

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

*

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

*

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

*

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

*

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

*

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

[bokettochild]

i've kinda always thought that legend would a beekeeper. he just looks like he'd bee one, if that makes sense. don't know, can't explain it

Honey, you can't expect that this wouldn't join Ketto's Cottagecore Collection :)

There are many things that Ravio likes about Hyrule.

Mr. Hero’s bees are not one of them.

Oh, he loves the life that the bees spread, the flowers they tend, he loves dolloping gobs of honey over his bread while Mr. Hero watches with something that is shock, concern and awe all at once. He enjoys the gentle humming that always drifts in through the windows and sets the mood for a busy day, and he likes watching Mr. Hero putter about the hives with that soft little expression on his face, a tune on his lips that the bees seem to echo in their hums.

(He also likes the silly little dances Mr. Hero will break into while he works when he thinks no one is watching).

But what he doesn’t like are the bees themselves.

Mr. Hero, unfortunately, loves them.

“Does it have to be here?” Rupee green eyes peek out from out from under his hood as he stares across the table. It’s one of those rare moments between darting across Hyrule and Lorule where Mr. Hero will stop and stay at the house for a day or two. Not that his housemate really has a choice, Mr. Hero’s leg is busted horridly, and kingdom to save or no, he can hardly limp around the house, much less tromp all over the kingdom.

“She’s fine.” Mr. Hero’s voice is softer than normal, smooth as honey as a soft expression plays over his usually scowling face, watching the bee that crawls over his hand with a fond expression as the tiny thing attends to a droplet of honey from their mid-day meal. Three or four others buzz around the hero’s head, his ears twitching ever so slightly as he tracks their motions. But still, Mr. Hero is as calm as could be as he munches some bread, violet fixed on yellow and black stripes.

Ravio himself is half a buzz away from jumping up from the table and hiding in the bed-room. “They’re bees!”

“Hush!” Mr. Hero’s face twists into a scowl, scolding but harsh. “Don’t be so loud, you’ll scare them.”

“I’ll scare them?” Seriously? Does Mr. Hero have no care for his feelings? “Mr. Hero, I don’t mind if dear come to trim your front yard. I don’t mind if birds fly in through your windows to wake you up. I don’t mind if rabbits help you work in the garden or kangaroos appear in the living room, or even if there’s a bear restocking the woodpile. But bees?” He has to fight not to raise his voice as Mr. Hero stares at him. “Why?”

“They’re harmless. And they’re just helping out.”

“They sting!” Ravio whimpers, drawing his arms close to his chest as a particularly inquisitive insect buzzes over to investigate the green eye patches of his bunny robe.

“Only monsters.” Mr. Hero’s smile is sickly sweet and utterly terrifying, and Ravio finds himself shivering at the sight of the dark clouds that flash through his doppelganger's eyes.

“Yes, well. I’m not exactly Hylian.”

Mr. Hero only snorts at that, but from that point on, Mr. Hero stopped setting out a little dish of honey on the countertop while they ate.

It is annoying that he chose to put it on the porch though.

“What are the little bumbly things?” Tune asks, staring at him with his face twisted up in confusion. “And why is everyone else scared of them?”

Ravio’s head shoots up from his bag, eyes flitting around nervously as he searches for the “bumbly things” in question, only to have the kid point out a whole nest of them perched in a tree not far from their camp, a few soldiers standing about and pointing, their idiot selves likely considering the pros and cons of raiding it.

“Bees.” He clips back, voice strained as he tries to force a smile for the youngster. “They make honey and wax and things.”

Tune frowns, silver-teal eyes flickering in thought. “I’ve never heard of bees before. I don’t think we have them on the great Sea.”

“Don’t have what on the Great Sea, kid?” Mr. Captain Hero Sir questions, and Ravio jumps in surprise when he sees the man leaning over him to look at the sailor.

“Mr. Captain Hero Sir!”

“Ravio.” The leader’s face melts into a lovely smile, bright and honest in a way it isn’t most of the time anymore. “What are you two talking about?”

“Bees.” Wind points again to the nest in the tree, and Mr. Captain Hero Sir’s face melts into a tired frown that only becomes a scowl as he spies Mask already halfway up the backside of the tree where the soldiers can’t see him.

“Bees.” Comes the tired sigh.

“Mr. Hero keeps bees.” Ravio muses. It’s been forever since he’d seen his dear friend, and it makes him worry. Is Mr. Hero eating enough? Who’s making sure he doesn’t fall asleep on the floor? Who’s keeping the house clean so he can tend the orchard? Is someone there to make sure that there’s food in the house? That trips are made to the market?

Oh heavens! Worry gnaws away in his chest. What if the soldiers have caught Mr. Hero again? What if he’s been hurt and there’s no one there to help him clean and dress the wounds?

The animals that flit over the house like something out of a fairy tale can only do so much, and blood will only scare them away, just as sure as Ravio’s startled squeaks and whimpers would.

“Hey.” A warm hand settles on his shoulder and he finds himself looking up into rich royal eyes as Mr. Captain Hero Sir stares down at him with concern. “You okay?”

“I’m worried.” He murmurs in return, fingers fiddling with the edges of his scarf. “But there’s nothing that can be done about it, not yet.” He tries for a smile, but he knows based off of his friend’s reaction that either it can’t be seen beneath his hood or that it’s not convincing. “Go get Mask, Mr. Captain Hero Sir, before he gets himself stung.”

There’s a sharp cry or three and the angry buzzing of bees and the three of them wince collectively. “Or not.” The tired captain sighs, patting his shoulder gently before darting over to the campfire and grabbing one of the discarded torches.

“What-”

“Smoke calms bees down.” Ravio answers before Tune can finish asking the question. “Mr. Hero uses it when they get really fussy.”

Tune stares at him oddly, but doesn't ask.

That evening, Ravio finds himself with an armload of Mask while the kid sulks and pouts, grumbling and swearing under his breath as the merchant and captain work together to free him from his bee inflicted torture.

“Thank the goddesses you’re not allergic.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir scolds, waving his tweezers in Mask’s face while Ravio tries his hardest to focus on a stinger lodges between the kid’s fingers, fighting winces and whimpers of his own while Mask sits through the scolding and treatment with only the occasional hiss and glare.

“I’ve dealt with bees before.” Their youngest huffs petulantly.

“Wild bees?” Mr. Captain Hero Sir cocks a brow, disbelieving.

“Forest bees.” The kid rolls his eyes.

“Well then you should know by now not to mess with them.” The captain sounds, and acts, so much like a tired father that it makes Ravio smile softly.

How would Mr. Captain Hero Sir deal with Mr. Hero’s snark and sass, he wonders.

How would the captain handle yet another self-sacrificing teenager who really needs an adult, he muses that night, as two sticky pre-teens curl against the captain’s sides, the three wrapped in the man’s scarf while Mr. Captain Hero Sir strokes their blonde heads. Mask is drooling and Tune keeps twitching and snoring loudly, but the man who holds them couldn’t look more at peace.

Bright blue eyes meet his own over the campfire’s flames. “There’s room for one more.”

The snort pushes itself from him before he has a chance to stop it. “Where?”

The man smiles, shifting and pulling Mask into his lap, the kid nestles against his chest, tucking his thumb in his mouth slowly in a motion that has Ravio cooing softly while the captain laughs. “Such a grown up.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir teases softly, knowing full well the target can’t hear him, before patting the ground next to him. “Here.”

Ravio doesn’t say no. Mr. Captain Hero’s arms aren’t as warm and safe and home-like as Mr. Hero’s, but they’re nice, and it’s closer to home than he is on the opposite side of the fire. As he settles down, the captain smiles at him, face cheeky as he motions to the bowl still sitting at his knee. “Honey?”

After that night, he successfully impressed two heroes of courage with how much honey he could eat, and when the light had faded fully, Mr. Captain Hero Sir found himself with three snoring boys I his arms, each full to bursting with sweet golden honey, and each nursing more than a few stings.

When Impa made her rounds, whispering a teasing comment about going soft, the captain only shot her a grin and a playfully rude gesture, making the woman laugh.

“Bees!” Tune- no, Wind- chuckles, pointing out the hives behind the house as if he’s never seen the creatures before.

Captain hero Sir Jr. Winces, pulling away from the field as his father- brother? Snorts out knowing laughter behind them.

“Yeah.” Mr. Hero shrugs. “They help keep the orchard healthy and provide us with honey and wax. We practically need six colonies with how much honey Ravio eats.” The jab is playful but the easy smile on Mr. Hero’s face fades when he sees the uneasy way that all of the others are staring at the hives, Captain Hero Sir Jr. backing away and shaking his head slowly, soft murmurs of ‘no, no, no’ sounding as he and Wind exchange looks.

Mr. Hero crosses his arms. “You’re not all afraid of bees, are you?”

Guilty glances are exchanged between the heroes.

“To be fair,” Captain Hero Sir Jr. raises one hand, looking every inch the over-grown child that he is. “They sting.”

The simple statement has Mr. Hero blinking slowly in disbelief as the others all nod along, murmurs of agreement humming along with the bees as the vet stares in shock. “You’re all scared of bees?” A nervous shuffle spreads through the group, worsening as several of the fuzzy insects in question begin to make their way over. “Unbelievable.” Mr. Hero breathes, throwing his hands up.

“They- they sting.” Ravio reminds him, shivering as several of the creatures in question begin to land on Mr. Hero’s arms and hands, tiny les crawling along as the insects look for their favored snack in the hero’s grasp.

Mr. Hero raises a hand. “Look,” He almost sounds pleading. “Sky, pities sakes, it’s like a hummingbird!”

That seems to work on Mr. Chosen Hero, who peers forwards carefully, but none of the others are convinced.

It’s nervous glances that are thrown around the house by the heroes.

The bees followed Mr. Hero inside and even by his own admission he can’t force them back out without upsetting them, so instead he lets them hover around his ears and crawl over his fingers, an odd little expression on his face as they do so.

Ravio and the heroes give him a wide berth.

“Okay.” Mr. Traveler Hero frowns. “Is Legend being weird, or is that just me?”

“He’s always like this.” Ravio sighs, clutching his scarf in both hands and worrying the fringe he’d sewn onto this one. “You should see the lawnmowers.”

The heroes share a look. “Lawnmowers?”

“Deer.” He replies, an easy smile pulling at previously tensed features. “All sorts of forest animals really. It’s a nice help, but I can’t stand the bees.”

“Ah.”

A giggle breaks their focus, and shocked faces whip around to where Mr. Hero is curled up in his chair, cheeks pink as bees swarm over him, buzzing happily while the vet giggles and chortles softly, muffled complaints sounding from behind his hands. “Ladies, please! I’m-” Another laugh breaks the silence, violet eyes glittering in the fading light of the kitchen as Legend reaches up to gently remove a bee from where it’s crawling over the tip of his ear.

“The vet’s ticklish.” Mr. Rancher breathes, mischief lighting a dangerous fire in his eyes as he watches Legend plead with his insect friends to leave him alone.

“Oh yes!” The mischief is echoed in Mr. Chosen Hero’s crystal blue gaze as he winks. “Very.”

Soft titters and gentle laughs sound and the rest are drawn close as the vet playfully bats away the bees, begging and pleading between laughs as buzzes that could almost be laughter sound.

One of the tiny things settles on Mr. Smithy’s nose, humming lightly as the smithy stares at t in horror before buzzing off again harmlessly.

The next morning at the breakfast table, Mr. Hero makes extra certain to close the window while Ravio sets out fresh tea and biscuits, accompanied by warmed honey.

Mr. Hero isn’t safe however, and Mr. Chosen Hero makes a point of proving how ticklish the vet can be when he gently rubs his fingers over the tips of Mr. Hero’s ears. The honey wand drizzles sweet syrup everywhere as a startled and breathy laugh sounds, his friend batting off a grinning Mr. Cosen Hero and begging for him to stop.

“Sky! Sky please! Oh golly! Dad! Stop!”

When at last the caped hero releases Mr. Hero it’s with a beaming flush over his face while the vet groans against the hardwood table, honey absolutely everywhere.

“Quite buzzy there, honeybee.” Ravio chuckles, grin spreading wider at the half-hearted scowl sent his way.

[imaginativeamateur]

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Burnt Eggs

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x gn!Reader

Note: HELLO! This is my debut:)) Enjoy!

In the breezing morning, without any tasks waiting, you felt extra relaxed as you strolled through the empty streets, heading to a nearby market. It was still early for the sun to shine its ray through the clouds, you unconsciously appreciated the surrounding dimed with little lingering lights from the lampposts.

Humming as you made your way through the food stalls at the market, hands gathering any ingredients that came across your eyes, making a mental note of what you were planning to make later. On your way back, you noticed people starting to set up tables and chairs in the morning cafes as the humid wind slightly passed against your cheeks. It was summer, the flowers were blooming wide between the green leaves, bright red, white, and yellow flowers weaved your way back home.

You opened the door to your apartment and dropped your grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Taking a few steps to the window sill, you slid the clear panel aside and allowed the natural sunlight to beam inside, dancing on the floor. Little specks of dust rose from the sudden disturbance, glimmering in the morning’s light. Pulling your hair up into a messy bun, you switched the fan with your toe and as you waltzed to the kitchen. You enjoyed the wind billowing into your apartment, a morning like this was rare, the office hours and piles of paper had been dragging you for a long, long time. You started by washing the fresh vegetables and set them on the counter to dry, moving on to cooking rice, beating eggs.

After one hour of diligence, you found yourself staring at a full table of food, not to mention the slightly burnt pans in the sink. This had always been your bad habit – making more than what you could probably eat. You planned to get Ino or Sakura if they wanted to come over and share the food with you, only to realize that they were both on their missions. Being extraordinary Shinobi they were, you sometimes could not help but compare yourself with the young girls. Even though you had only been friends with them for around a month or so, they saw you as a sister and helped you a lot in making this place feel like home. Naruto was off with Jiraiya already, Kurenai was definitely with Asuma and you did not want to third-wheel their date, it was the weekend after all. You could certainly refrigerate the food, only if you would be home that night, unfortunately, you needed to attend a random dinner with your committee.

Sighing, a thought came across your mind, maybe you could bring some over for Kakashi next door. You heard he was back from his mission yesterday night.

“But I don’t really… know him!” your inner-self doubted.

“What if he thinks I am poisoning him?” You asked yourself, rolling on the couch.

“This is ridiculous! It’s just a normal meal, it should be fine!”

“What will I reason if he asks?”

“Well, just say that you made some extra food, there’s no need to freak out!”

You hesitated slightly as you knocked on his door, once, twice, and waited for the silver-haired Ninja to open it. You had seen Kakashi before, conversed with him quite a few times, but you two were not especially close for you to do something this intimate. You had known his students, but not especially Kakashi himself. At least, you considered cooking for him to be intimate. At this point, you started to regret your decision when the door remained still, with no signs of movement. Just when you were about to turn your heels, Kakashi opened the door, his masked face poked out through the thin creak. You jolted at his sudden appearance, not knowing what to say. He stared at you, shifting his gaze to the container you are holding in your quivering fingers, the mood grew more awkward as none of you decided to speak.

You could not deny that you find the masked Ninja oddly attractive, especially the way he held his gaze half-lidded. Yet, you were determined to affirm yourself that it was only a mere thought of arousal and that it would go away soon.

After you made up your mind, you get up from the couch and scooped heaps of food into a plastic container, secured the lid, and dawdled your way over to Kakashi’s.

Finally, you parted your trembling lips, not able to sustain his intense stare, “I made some food earlier. Ugh, I guess we can eat to…, I meant I wanted to bring you some. Um, hope you will like it!”

You briefly shoved the container into his hands and bowed with nervousness before you sprinted back to your apartment. After two long strides, you stumbled upon your slippers and headed straight to the ground, bracing yourself for a rough landing. This was another reason why you would never belong to the Shinobi world: you would likely shove your face into the dirt before the opponent could even pull out a kunai. But when you were about to kiss the ground, a strong grip pulled you back to your feet. Kakashi fully appeared… in his tight, sleeveless tank and long pants, his half-lidded eye still cloudy from being wakened up early in the morning, you assumed. His tank’s material hugged perfectly to his lean built, outlining the defined muscles underneath. You could not help but be flustered at your thoughts and blamed the summer’s heat for them. You glanced down to his hand holding onto your arm and gulped, “Thank… thank you!”

Thoughts were going wild in your head. How did he know that you had not eaten yet? Did he stalk you or something? That was creepy! What did you get yourself into?

He released his hand, fixed his posture straight, and murmured under his mask, “Bring your breakfast over and join me!”

You look up, stuttered, you did not hear it wrong, did you? “I’m fine, I… already ate, I’ll take my leave now!”

The silver-haired Ninja tilted his head to one side, “What do you get by lying to me, Y/N?”

What happened to Kakashi? What were you supposed to do?  Was he literally asking you to eat with him? What if he kidnapped you to some weird places? While questioning, you still could not deny the butterflies welling up in your stomach as you get back to your apartment, maybe it was not bad at all, to spend your breakfast with a mysterious yet attractive Ninja of Konoha.

Seeing the confusion written all over your face, his visible eye crinkled, “You had your curtains opened.”

You closed your eyes, wanting to escape this great embarrassment, “You have been watching me?” You, of course, did not want to use ‘stalking’, especially in this context, but still shuddered at the thought that he had been observing you for Kami knows how long.

Still giving you his eye smile, Kakashi dropped a bombshell, “Right when you burnt the eggs.”

You froze, asking yourself what you did to get into this situation. Looking at his smile made you want to dig yourself a hole and disappear right away. You raised your voice a bit, “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry if I -”

“Nah, I just went back to sleep. But whatever you have in here smells good,” he shrugged, eyeing you, “why are you still here? Go back and get your breakfast!”

You exhaled heavily and take your leave, “Okay, I will be back shortly.”

It took your eyes several minutes to adjust to the darkness inside his apartment. Kakashi was seated – actually perching would be a better word to describe his posture – on the edge of his sofa with his Icha Icha firmly in hand. You silently wondered how he could possibly read with such little light.

“So you’re not going to turn on the light,” you chirped, “at least open your curtain, Kakashi-san.”

You finally got his attention as he placed the book on the low table beside and went for the window, “Welcome to my apartment!” The radiating light now allowed you to fully capture his apartment in sight, simple, and a bit… plain if you were to say.

“I saw you beating eggs earlier,” he raised an eyebrow, “what did you make?”

Opening your containers, you both settled down on the sofa, sitting across from each other. You amusedly explained, “Just traditional dishes, healthy and delicious, I hope!”

You clapped your palms together before starting to dig into your food, you were starving and practically drooling at the smell of your own crafts. “Oh, I don’t have my chopsticks,” you looked up, smiling warily at the masked Ninja. He pointed to the kitchen and motioned you to go get a pair of chopsticks. You made your way into his kitchen, there was literally nothing present on the kitchen counter, except for a kettle in the corner, a small, single stove, and a sink with bowls neatly stacked on the drying rack.

“Kakashi-san, I don’t see the chopsticks!” you called out to the Ninja.

“Sixth row from the left, second last drawer from the bottom,” he elucidated in a neutral tone, “make sure you are pulling it out, not swinging it open.”

It would be an easy task locating the right one until you glanced down at his endless rows of drawers, all matching in design and color. Mumbling his direction, you traced your index across the rows and counted your way through, and stopped at the one that seemed to fit his description. You were just about to pull the drawer open, he added, “Be careful, you don’t want to open the wrong one!”

You flinched at his words and lifted yourself up, starting to count once again, this time, paying closer attention. “It must be some weird stuff that he stores in there, maybe deadly weapons” you whispered, “or Icha Icha, maybe. Why on Earth does he even store such things here?”

“Can you locate the chopsticks?” he rang from outside.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming!” you quickly pulled on a drawer after already making sure that it was the right one twice and sighed in relief to see chopsticks lying in a metal box. You grabbed a pair and hurried outside without forgetting to push the drawer back in its place.

When you plopped yourself onto the sofa, Kakashi brought his palms together and bent his upper body down to the empty container, “Thank you for the meal, it was delicious!”

“Wow, that was fast,” you acclaimed, the thought of seeing his bare face shattered into pieces, “is my cooking okay?”

“Not bad, it somehow reminds me of something familiar…” he drifted off.

Seeing the man in front did not one to further the topic, you began eating, feeling glad that the burnt eggs turned out edible. “Do you often cook?” you initiated.

“Not that frequently, but I know how to cook though,” he replied.

You nodded at his answer, eyes wandering around the apartment to fully take in the sight, this time more carefully. “Do you especially like a certain dish, Kakashi-san?” The questions slipped out before you actually noticed and smiled hesitantly. Too fast, you noted.

“I’ve grown attached to eating basically anything for survival,” he shrugged, “but I recently found Ichiraku’s quite good of a ramen shop.”

You saw his lips curved under the mask at the implicit mention of his student’s obsession with ramen. You had heard of Naruto before, and of course, Team 7, well, without Sasuke.

“How about you?” he suddenly asked.

“Oh,” you shifted and leaned back a little bit, “food is my guilty pleasure.”

“Hm,” Kakashi looked up in question.

“I like anything from curry to sushi, or any kind of soup and noodles,” you exclaimed in joy, delighted to talk about your love for the place’s varied cuisine, “Konoha is such a great place for gustatory satisfaction!”

“Glad that you like it here! How long have you been here for?”

“Not very long, probably three months?” you tilted your head to one side and tapped your chin.

“It must be difficult to adjust to the place at first.” He commented.

“It was, I grew up in a rural area and Konoha seemed to be a busy place when I first came,” you admitted, “but I was lucky to meet, well, Sakura-chan and eventually Naruto-kun and their fellow Shinobi friends.”

“Sakura mentioned you several times, how did you two meet though?” the silver-haired Ninja leaned back onto the couch.

“Not in a very optimistic circumstance, I suppose,” you inwardly spoke, “I got myself into some villagers’ heated argument and one of them threw a punch in my face when I was trying to pacify the situation.”

Kakashi’s eye sparked a light but he did not speak.

“I ended up in the hospital with a swollen cheek, slightly fractured bone, and Sakura eased my pain.” You unconsciously reached for your face and rubbed against your cheek, silently admiring Sakura’s skills as a young, successful Medic.

You two kept talking for a long time, Kakashi did not reveal his past too much, it was mainly you answering his random questions. You were quite surprised that you both shared many similarities, the same dislike for sweets and crowded places, the same love for dogs and silent strolls in the forest, to have the same background as orphans and self-reliant individuals. He even promised to bring you to their training session one day. Within that mere hour, you sparked a strong bond that you never knew would last for a long time, neither did Kakashi.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Illumi Zoldyck's Character

Chrollo Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up y’all! Sorry for being away for the last few days. I needed a break from social media because I am so tired of seeing toxic, self-righteous people on my TL. Anyway, quite a lot of you liked my posts about analyzing HxH characters and somehow comparing them to VLD characters. Today, I’ll be talking about Illumi Zoldyck and I’ll try to compare him to a Voltron character. I know many people have already analyzed this character before, but it wouldn’t hurt to add to the discussion some years later. If you want me to write about anything else, send me an ask! The formatting of this post may be different than the one I wrote about Hisoka Morrow (click his name to view that post).

HERE WE GO!

In the first season, all of the characters are contestants for the Hunter’s Exam. I say contestants because this is a contest to see who can win without any injuries and can keep up with each host. I forget what number stage they were at, but I do know they were at the stage where each opponent has to fight each other. They are declared the winner if their opponent forfeits or gives up mid-match. (Off-topic, but) I am going, to be honest; Gon was my favorite character but his flaws began to show, annoyed me, and later led to his horrific downfall (based from YouTube clips). He didn’t know when to stop and kept pushing himself over the limit. Anyway, Killua and Gittarackur are set to fight. This is when things take a turn for the worse.

Gittarackur is a form of a disguise for Illumi to mask his identity. His face is long; nearly (and reminds me of) in the shape of a Tiki. His face also reminds me of the Witch Doctor mask from Scooby-Doo and Hell-raiser. He has several pins stuck in his face to maintain the facial features of Gittarackur. On the flip side, if he removes the pins, his biological form is revealed. Once he does this, Killua is nearly paralyzed; he cannot believe his eyes and I’m sure the trauma he endured at home hit him like a sack of rocks. Illumi then tells Killua that he wants him to return home, that he cannot maintain a friendship with Gon, stated that he was going to kill Gon, but realizes that if he does so he will be disqualified and will not obtain his Hunter’s license.

I’m assuming the cops aren’t a thing in this reality and the only way for them to “destroy” under the law is by obtaining the license. What do you think? I rarely see police officers; all I see are the Mafia and every they suck compared to the Zoldyck's and the Phantom Troupe. Shit, it seems like they’re the police but have twisted motives.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a fictional character or not, first impressions matter and he bombed this one...even for a villain.

But you did this for what?

How can you hypnotize (by using Nen) your own brother into killing another opponent because he doesn’t want to become an emotionless zombie like you? At least, that’s my perception. Telling your brother to run every time he faces an opponent that he knows he cannot win against is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen. I know I’m jumping around but another thought popped into my head. As the seasons go on, Illumi expresses an odd way of loving his younger brother and to him, that means to make him suffer in the same way he had to. It seems like Illumi is jealous of Gon in a way. (I’ve seen clips on YouTube) Killua takes Alluka to the hospital to heal Gon. Illumi has stated several times to Hisoka that Killua was hiding rules from him and that he still wanted to get rid of Alluka. Although it is clearly stated why he wanted Alluka gone, I still think that Illumi was jealous of Gon simply because his younger brother preferred to be with a friend instead of him. This is why he emphasizes “You cannot have friends. Either they will betray you or you’ll betray them.”

As I read and watched as the seasons went on, I noticed something about Illumi and his family. We all know that the children were raised by their parents. Specifically, their dad is a trained assassin. I can’t remember but I think Zeno is their grandfather who is also an assassin.

I view him as a character that has suffered from abuse and trauma in order to mold him into an assassin. He is emotionless, doesn’t really care for others, has an odd relationship with Killua that he doesn’t have for his other siblings, and is a hypocrite. Killua can’t be friends with Gon but every time the show cuts to him, he’s with Hisoka? Something is fishy there. Are they more than friends? OK, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Here's the physical analysis below.

Face

When masquerading as Gittarackur, his face has several pins in them and his hair is in a rock star form of Mohawk that is purple. I’ll give him 10/10 for uniqueness, yet it still reminded me of Hell Raiser.

I’ve noticed that when he is in public he is in costume. Why doesn’t he reveal himself in public? I’ve researched this and no one could answer this question. My guess is that he is a verified hunter and assassin. How can you carry out your missions if everyone knows what you look like? Without the pins in his face, it reverts back to his natural state. To me, his large eyes and long, shiny black hair are his distinguished features. Although he may be my least favorite character, he does have pretty eyes. Haven’t you all heard of “I got lost in his/her eyes”?

Yeah, that can be said about him. Most definitely. He rarely smiles and when he does, something BAD is going to happen. I saw him laugh crazily once Alluka began the healing process, the Nen (I guess) rose from the hospital and got on him. This scene reminds me of how Haggar reacted once the Komar’s quintessence bounced from Voltron and bounced onto her. Wow, these supernatural abilities make y’all feel that good?

Clothes

Gittarackur and Illumi wear the same clothes, which should be a clear giveaway that they are the same. Illumi wears a neural green short jacket that has yellow pins in them, a light green shirt underneath, and green pants. His shoes remind me of loafers with a heel on them, something my grandmother would wear.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say again, these bad-ass men in this show are very stylish and seem to be in shape more than I am. Although Illumi irks me, his fashion is great and this is why people prefer him to be their favorite character. Shows should always produce characters that are memorable; that is the key to a long-lasting fan base.

In conclusion, this anime (for the most part) has well-rounded characters that make the plot interesting and wanting more.

Illumi and Lotor are somewhat similar. They both grew up in abusive households and lost some sense of sensitivity, common sense, and were often “misguided” by their own selfishness. Illumi wants a better life for Killua by constantly brainwashing him into thinking that he cannot have friends and his can only find happiness through killing. Zarkon raises Lotor to be a prince that shouldn't work with planets and should destroy them. This explains why he used deceased Alteans from the colony, drained their quintessence, and didn't give them a proper burial. Lotor IS just like his father but Killua IS NOT like Illumi. Ironic, huh? As we all know by now, Lotor is the son of Honerva (Haggar) and Zarkon. After the rift accident, he became an emotionless, ruthless monster that colonized and destroyed planets just to gain their quintessence. He taught this to his son and once he was old enough to think for himself, he refused to act in such a way. Although he was exiled and said he wasn’t like Zarkon, he was; but worse. Lotor studied and gained knowledge about Altea and its people while using Allura to gain the secrets of Oriande. I say he used her because he knew from the moment he met her that he was harvesting Altean quintessence. While fighting the white lion, he yelled “Victory or Death” which is a common catchphrase the Galra use when they are in battle. In fact, the Galra have been victims of trauma from Zarkon. Zarkon’s ruthless ways of ruling had no other motive except for obtaining quintessence so he could live forever. Silva’s way of raising his children was done to mold them into assassins. Since he was taught this way he did the same thing to his children. Zarkon, Silva, and Zeno think that their ways of parenting are necessary for survive in life when it doesn’t have to be that way. Illumi and Lotor have experienced this horrific parenting and deal with it in different ways. Illumi is oddly obsessive of his younger brother and Lotor is a fucking liar.

This analysis was fun! Next, I’ll be analyzing Killua and Keith Kogane.

If you’d like to see more posts like this, send me an ASK!

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 1: Night

Liu Kang x Reader

This story contains spoilers from the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie so description and story will be beneath the cut. It's an angsty good time. Thanks @justariellove for workshopping titles with me!! Edit:: Changing the title. Beauty Through Ash will be the name of the series that this will be a part of.

Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

You are a warrior with the dragon marking and ink arcana. You had visions as a child. Complicated sexual history with Liu Kang and a romantic relationship with Kung Lao that lasted a few years after that had ended. Story takes place post-movie! It will be angsty. There will be yelling. There will be tension and smut (eventually, that's just me). It will be ridiculous. But fun.

This is a 'I have zero self control post' Enjoy!

A soft ringing rattled through your head and you hated every second of it. It was a tinkling sound, like metal brushing softly against metal.

A wind chime.

The most annoying wind chime that you had ever heard in your life. Your stomach was sour, like you’d eaten something funny the night before and as you turned in search of the cold side of the pillow, your stomach rejected being awake. The world spun even with your eyes closed.

What had you done to deserve this?

You tried to recall what had brought you to this point of misery. You remembered going downstairs in search of a stiff drink after you’d packed for your trip the next day but after that, things had gotten blurry. It was easy to get lost in liquor these days. You remembered some of the other monks coming to join you but after that, there was nothing. That was why your stomach was sick. Too much liquor. Not an entirely unfamiliar feeling the past few weeks. You’d often needed its help to fall asleep.

You leaned up on your elbow and felt something soft slip over your bare skin. Puzzling. No usual nightshirt, but something else draped over you instead. Oh, no.

Oh no.

You were naked.

You were very, very naked. Crap. You grasped the soft cloth and held it over you to keep decent. Shit. You were sore too. So much for wishful thinking that you hadn’t done something incredibly stupid.

You bit the bullet and opened your eyes but silently panicked at the shirt that was just barely draped over you and knew whose it was before you saw the body of the man lying next to you. A soot-stained shirt. Biting your lip, you prayed that you would turn your head and find an insane explanation for your clothing being gone besides the obvious.

Instead, you found the truth that you had already damn well known the moment you’d moved. Liu Kang laid passed out on the bed next to you, face turned away and completely naked. He had scratch marks down his back, and you followed them down to his perfect little butt and then covered your face and mentally cursed yourself.

Fuck.

Don’t panic. Deep breaths.

It was still dark out. You had time to find your clothes and get out of there before he woke, with any luck. His room was dark and you were dizzy so the odds weren’t in your favor. Head in your hands, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold stone beneath your feet. God, you were so sore. What stupid things had you done? At least you were familiar with his room and the way back from it. Not your first walk of shame out of there, you reflected in disgust with yourself. Not that Liu Kang wasn’t attractive or fun as hell, it was just terrible timing.

You rested his shirt on the bed next to you and searched the floor blindly for your clothing. His room hadn’t changed much over the years. It had been that long since you’d found yourself drunk and naked in his bed.

You had been drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

You had clawed the shit out of his back though, he’d probably remember something about that.

You had to get up and go about your day and forget all about it.

Seeing as you didn’t remember most of it, it would probably be fine. You were leaving that morning anyway to go and locate a man in America with the dragon mark. You’d be gone soon and able to delay the inevitable fallout that would come with sleeping with Liu Kang for the first time in years. You found your clothes strewn about the room, slipped them back on as quietly as your hungover self would allow and then snuck out of his room. You thought about covering him up but that risked waking him.

Once in the hall and a few doors away, you leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay.

You’d made it out of there. Now to make it look less like you’d done exactly what you’d done. Your mouth tasted foul and your head split with every step. This was a complete disaster. You hadn’t been careful. You hadn’t been thinking. You’d just passed out. You stopped to get cleaned up and grab a cup of tea to try and kill the headache. Then you returned to your room to finish packing your morning things and find a change of clothing. The monotony of the task made your brain buzz with guilt and unpleasant thoughts and then flashes of Liu Kang in the heat of the moment. You smacked the side of your head to try and shake it out of there.

On your desk there was the last and most important thing that you had to bring with you. An ornamental jade circlet. Kung Lao’s jade circlet. You sat at the desk and brushed your fingers over the beautiful thing. It had become one of your most precious possessions. As it often did, the thought of Kung Lao shifted your mood. Then again, it was rare when you weren’t thinking about him. Lifting the circlet, you placed it to your lips and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m sorry, Lao.”

It had been two months since he died.

You hadn’t been there in his last moments. Instead, you’d been halfway around the world running an errand for Raiden and had come back to find him gone. There had been no goodbyes. No last ‘I love you’. Your last conversation hadn’t even been a good one. Then, while drinking away the pain of his memory and guilt of his death, you’d slept with his best friend and brother.

Liu Kang.

You had never felt more guilty in all your life.

There had always been fire between you, but it had long since been put aside when you’d started dating Kung Lao. You’d stomped it out. Now Kung Lao was gone, and you were broken.

If anyone had suffered more than you after Kung Lao’s death it had been Liu Kang. You hadn’t talked about his death other than vague niceties. He had avoided you and you had avoided him. When you’d been together, you’d snapped at each other. The grieving process had been difficult for you both. It had been like he’d taken on some of Kung Lao’s most frustrating traits to deal with the loss of him.

There was no time to dwell on what wasn’t. You had things to do.

You looped the circlet into the straps of your bag and then took it with you. It was what it was. You couldn’t change the past and that was something you were struggling to come to terms with. This was one more thing to add to the pile of stress on your back.

You were off to South Dakota in the United States, a relatively boring place from what you’d heard. You were to search for a man with the dragon marking known as Nightwolf, a legendary warrior of the Makota people. Lord Raiden had asked you to prepare for a journey and you were grateful to have something to do other than stew in the room you’d shared with Kung Lao before his death. There was no peace for you there, but you weren’t sure there was peace for you anywhere right now.

Peace would come with time, you were told again and again. You were tired of hearing it. The comfort of time in conversation was mostly just to shut down the fixation on grief in the company of others. You shook it off.

After you’d found Nightwolf you would be off to meet up with Sonya, Jax, and Cole in Hollywood to try and convince an arrogant movie star, Johnny Cage, to come to Raiden’s Temple to train. No one knew what Outworld would do after having lost the tournament and you had to be prepared. Besides that, you thought Raiden sending you on a mission was his way of trying to help you grieve. He was fatherly at times.

You threw the bag on your back and then walked through the temple to meet Raiden. Your conversation was minimal and you were grateful for that. Your head was still killing you, stomach beyond sick. You stepped through the lightning and arrived outside of a forest, near a reservation where some of the Makota people still lived. You had been told to check there to see if you could find information about the man with the dragon mark.

There were motels nearby, so you walked there and rented a room. It was a little hole in the wall place with a broken No Vacancy sign just off the side of the highway, the kind you associated with horror movies. It had seen better days, but you weren’t picky at the moment, and you weren’t afraid either. You were a woman who was not to be trifled with. You dropped off your bag in the room and then sat on the edge of the bed with the ugly green comforter for a time. The wallpaper was faded and busy, once white ceiling yellowed with age. The most modern thing in the room was the television and even that was a decade old at least. It was fine. You only needed a place to sleep and this room served that purpose. There was a couch against one wall and a table in front of it- more than most hotels offered these days.

Your head was still splitting, but you had gotten some aspirin from the small convenience store attached to the ancient lobby where you’d checked in. Hopefully, that would help. You would take a car to the reservation and then hopefully be allowed to respectfully ask some questions. From what you’d read, very few people still lived there but it had been the only place you’d been able to locate before you’d traveled.

You were hoping that some of the people there would at least point you in the right direction. Raiden had told you that the title of Nightwolf was given to a great warrior who could commune with the Gods. In this case, it was also a man who bore the dragon marking. You called a car from the phone in your room and waited outside for it to meet you. When it did, you opened the door and climbed in the back and made casual conversation with the driver.

You pulled the door closed, but then someone smacked on the door and opened it again. In crawled Liu Kang and any recovery your head and stomach had made were set so far back that you could have vomited your insides onto your boots. “What are you doing here?” That sounded far more accusatory than you had meant it too.

“Raiden sent me to accompany you.” He avoided eye contact and turned his attention to the driver. He looked just as tired as you felt and addressed the driver. “Sorry about that. Is the fare still the same for us both?”

“You going to the same place?”

“Yes, just together.”

“Then same fare, buddy.” The driver put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. You couldn’t have felt worse. Thanks Raiden. Your distraction was officially over. Maybe he hadn’t sent you to find comfort. Maybe he’d sent you to test your spirit. Great.

Next Chapter >>

[gaijinhunter]

Monster Hunter Rise: 2nd Trailer and news blowout

Hey guys this is Gaijinhunter. I am uploading this as a text post since I caught a cold and have been unable to edit a video.

There was a huge second wave of news for Monster Hunter Rise with the reveal of the 2nd trailer the other day during the Game Awards 2020 show. Keep in mind the actual full length trailer is much longer and better than the shorter edit they showed during the show so makes sure you watch it. It showcased a second map, 2 new monsters, several returning monsters, and more. They also updated their official website with a ton of information so instead of doing a trailer reaction or breakdown, I am going to give you all the info they shared but split up by category, trying to focus only on the new stuff.

New Map

Director Ichinose hinted in an interview that one of the new maps would be nostalgic and boy he wasn't kidding. The Flooded Forest from Third Generation has been massively remade and is back in MH rise. Of course given this game’s focus is verticality, there is no underwater combat sections but they really nailed it from what I can see. One of the most iconic parts of the forest was the ruins in the backgrounds, and now you can scale up it using the wirebug. How cool is that. 

With the new map we also got the reveal of 2 new monsters.

First up is the mermaid wyvern, the Somnacanth. This marks the much hyped return of the leviathan class of monsters which were missing in world and iceborne. This Monster looks so wild. It has a special breath that will put you to sleep, is super aggressive, and has this crazy taiko drum like chest in which it will grab oysters and other things and bust them against it to break them open and buff itself. The Japanese name is quite a mouthful and is called Isonemikuni. This is the monster that Ichinose teased with his cute drawing on twitter.

Next up is the tengu beast, Bishaten. This monster is really unique, it looks like a mix of a monkey, bat, and bird. It has a huge and powerful tail it uses for massive mobility and it will chuck various fruits at you as well. One of the most iconic fruits it throws are persimmons, which are very Japanese and if you haven’t had them before, they are kind of an acquired taste. It’s Japanese name is Bishutendo. 

For returning monsters we have a few. First is our favorite sponge, the Royal Ludroth. This is a fan favorite and a great early to mid game monster. It has one of the best move sets in my opinion, very telegraphed but it can still catch you off guard even if you are super used to it. Strategically figuring gout where to stand in order to cut off its tail or break the sponge has always been really fun and intersting so I’m delighted to see this monster return, also look at that texture of the sponge!

Then we got the return of the Great Wroggi, the anti-poison skill tutorial monster. This thing really messed me up back in MH3G until I spent the time to get the materials to craft anti-posion decorations and even then, like the Great Izuchi, it fights really well with its sidekick small wroggis and I cant wait to see the improved cooperative AI that they are making for the Great Izuchi applied to this monster as well. It’s armor also spots a really cool Crocodile Dundee hat and look in the trailer and you can see the palico armor as well. So cool.

Finally, we got a small scene that appears to show a snow map and a group of baggi getting hit by a Khezu lightening shot. Does this mean the Great Baggi will return? Not sure. But that scream 100% is a Khezu, and I cannot wait to see how it looks with higher resolution texturing, I bet it will be creepy as heck. So while not technically confirmed, I’d say it’s safe to say Khezu is returning in some form. The balance of all these monsters is so great, I love the selection so far.

As far as other returning monsters that might return, I think we all expect nargacuga and zinogre. These are flagship monsters from games directed by Ichinose and he even tweeted his palamute and palico both named after these two monsters. Especially given the Japanese aesthetic, I think it’s pretty much guaranteed they are returning. Then I think mizutsune is also highly likely given its Japanese design, the fox theme, the kimono armor. Plus the model for it doesn't look that far off from the new Somnacanth. Anyway I have super hyped.

Interaction with animals and endemic life

One of the huge features of Monster Hunter Rise is the focus on wild life and animals to buff your hunter or be used as tools during a hunt.

There are 4 major types of Endemic Life: Temp Buffer, Permabuffer, Hunting Helper, and environmental.

For Permabuffer, we got a new render of the Spiribirds, which will buff your hunter if you move near one, and the effects depend on the color of the pollen it is carrying. Green increases your max Health, Orange increases your defense, red increases your attack power, and yellow increases your max stamina. There is even a special rainbow colored one, which I assume will buff all 4.

Via their website, Capcom announced a new item called the Petalace, a bracelet made of a plant called a Sending Sprig that each hunter has equipped. This is what collects the pollen from the birds and buffs your hunter. There is a variety of Petalaces in the game and some may increase the amount in which an attack boost is applied from a single Spiribird, raise the max value that health can be boosted, and more. Here in the screen shot we can see the caps for each and the amount gained for each buff. Just a quick note but this is not going to be replacing charms as we know that they are giving away a talisman for pre-order.

For Temp Buffer creatures, they revealed the name of the Clothfly, a butterfly that will temporarily increase your defense once you interact with it and cause it to generate a cloud of dust. In previous videos we have seen Peepers that reduce stamina usage, birds that raise your base stats, and a dragonfly that boosts your affinity and I had calculated it out to being applied for 90 seconds but we’ll have to wait for hte final game to see if that depends on the effect or if they change it, but it sounds about right.

For Hunting Helper creatures, we got an adorable new render of the Stinkmink. You can carry up to 5 Hunting Helpers and use them like items. The Stinkmink can be used to cover yourself in a special pheromone that will attract large monsters to you, even allowing you to lure one monster toward another to cause a turf war. I personally can think of other applications like luring a monster toward a trap and stuff like that.

And for environmental endemic life, they didn't show it in the trailer but there are also wildlife that can be used like environmental traps. For example, use raw meat and the giganha fish will go crazy, damaging anything nearby be it a hunter or monster. I can’t wait to see someone hunt a Great Wroggi using only raw meat. I love that we finally will have more use for this item.

NPCs

In the new trailer we got to hear several of the NPC villagers talking and on the website they go into a lot more details. They have quite the star-studded cast in Japanese and the English voice actors are also very interesting picks. This really marks the first time in Monster Hunter that the main cast of villagers will all be called by name and speak, which I think adds a lot of personality to the game.

First we have Fugen the village elder of Kamura and skilled long sword user. 

Then we have Hinoa the Quest Maiden, a cheerful and optimistic girl who serves as the quest giver in the village while her twin sister runs the gathering hub. While not announced in any other language, the French and Italian language sites for the game list her sister’s name as Minoto. Hinoa’s name is Hinoe in Japnaese and for the rest of the cast their names are identical between the two languages.

One thing I am excited for is that they said that one of the ways they will help communicate the uniqueness of Kamura is through songs and they shared a sample of one of them in the full trailer. This one is sung by Izumi Kato. If you remember back in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate they featured songs by the wyverian Diva, and I am so happy they decided to do songs again, they add so much richness to the world and are just lovely to listen to.

Next up is Yomogi, our village chef. In this game you will eat meals at her Tea Shop, where her speciality is the Bunny Dango she makes along with the help of some palicoes. I love that we’ve seen her in past videos with a heavy bowgun, so the idea that all the villagers are active participants in the story is great. 

Then we have Hamon the blacksmith. He used to hunt alongside Fugen back in the day but now creates weapons for the hunters of the village. His grandson also appears in the game and is a kind-hearted youth that loves your hunting companions.

Next is Kagero the merchant. Despite his mysterious appearance he is actually very warm and kind. If there is a sale going on, not only can you buy most items for half off, but you can also participate in a lottery where you spin a wheel and it dispenses a colored ball. Get a rare color ball to win a rare prize. You can do it once per sale, but you can also scan an amiibo to spin two more times, but only once per day per amiibo you own.

Finally we have Komitsu the sweet-tooth, she sells candy apples in town. What these do is still not yet revealed.

Companions

We got an adorable render for the Cohoot, the pet owl that shows the positions of monsters on your map. You can interact with it in the town and even dress them up in fancy outfits.

Kamura Village

We got gameplay showing that the entire village is open to the 4 person multiplayer session and you can even ride around on your palamute and use your wirebug while in the village to zip around and have fun. There is still a gathering hall but the ability to see each other in the village as well as jump around and really explore it is a lovely change they are making.

Story wise we got more info about the Rampage, both a story mechanic and new quest type. For some reason the monsters will sometimes gang up and attack the village all at once and no one knows why. They call this a Rampage. There was a really bad rampage 50 years ago that nearly destroyed the village and in response the town has created a Stronghold to stop further invasions. This looks like a new quest type with multiple monsters all at once, and a slew of different artillery options at your disposal. I could see this as being a really fun type of quest to do online with other players. 

And of course the most exciting news was that there will be a demo in January with more details to come later. That is far earlier than I expected and I now have to finish up my back catalogue of games in like the next month.

And that about wraps it up. Cpacom said that they will be sharing weapon preview videos for all 14 types very soon and if they do the way they used to do it, we’ll get one new video a day for 2 weeks. I hope you enjoyed this recap of the news and please let me know down in comments what you thought about the second trailer. And until next time, happy hunting.

[emachinescat]

Mama Bear

A Tales of Arcadia Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat @whumptober2021 day 3 - Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... ("who did this to you?")

Summary: After Jim’s fight with Draal, his mom sees his bruises, and Mama Bear is unleashed. Post-Win, Lose, or Draal.

Whumpee: Jim

Words: 2,603

Note: This fic was inspired by what Barbara said in 1x13 about Jim coming home from school covered in bruises. As is my way, I took the idea and ran with it.

TW: none

Barbara Lake had always considered herself incredibly lucky that her son turned out as well as he did. It wasn’t her own doing, she was sure of that – she always did the best she could, but being a single mom meant she’d had to work extra shifts to support her small family and never felt like she was there enough.

No, Jim was just a really good kid.

Not many moms could boast that their sixteen-year-old son could cook better than they could, let alone that they made gourmet lunches and dinners (and breakfasts, on most weekends), not just willingly, but happily. And not many moms could brag that their sixteen-year-old son did the dishes or kept the house clean or put aside his own wants and dreams to take care of his overworked mother. Who got up early to leave flowers on their bedside table after a long night at work, or who tucked them in after they fell asleep on top of the covers, still in their scrubs, because they’d been too exhausted to do anything else.

Barbara tried not to brag too much about Jim. She knew that he did have a social life of his own, and as far as she could tell, he was fairly well liked at school and she didn’t want to embarrass him if any of his friends found out just how much he doted on his mother. But sometimes she couldn’t help it, and she’d find herself rambling to her beautician or the nurses at the hospital or sometimes even a long-suffering patient about how her son was one-of-a-kind. He didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fight, didn’t skip school, and almost never missed curfew.

Until one day, he did.

It wasn’t even like it was a gradual change. There was no slow fade. She didn’t watch him slowly descend into bad grades or late nights or midnight calls about museum break-ins. There were no signs. He went to bed one day, the same as ever, and then suddenly he was getting into trouble at school, getting into fist fights, missing curfew, breaking into museums in the dead of night. Not only that but his grades – which had always been slightly higher than average – had plummeted, and he’d developed dark circles under his eyes like he never slept and sometimes he moved around like he was an eighty-year-old man and though his good nature and kind heart remained, it seemed strained at times. He still did sweet things for her, but not as often.

At first, she’d thought he was burning the proverbial candle at both ends and his lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental and physical health. As a doctor, she’d seen firsthand what lack of sleep could do to a person. Their entire personality would change, or fizzle out, and their judgment would be severely impaired.

But then she’d seen the bruises and her sleep-loss theory flew out of the window.

***

Two weeks ago

Barbara thought boundaries and independence were a valuable part of a child’s development, so she always knocked before she entered Jim’s room. Of course, if he were gone, she wouldn’t bother.

On this particular day – one of her rare days off – she was sure he wasn’t home. She hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t seen his bike propped up against the side of the house or in the garage. The container of store-bought chocolate chip cookies (she had neither the time nor skill to bake them herself) she’d left out for him hadn’t been touched. For all appearances, Jim hadn’t gotten home from school yet.

And so, she didn’t knock as she approached his bedroom door with a laundry basket propped on her hip. Jim always did his own laundry, but she’d seen how tired and overworked he’d been lately and wanted to ease his burden however she could.

The sight that greeted her when she nudged open the door and flipped on the light was one that would stick with her, tattooed onto her mind’s eye, for the rest of her life.

Jim was asleep on top of his unmade bed. It looked like he’d gotten halfway undressed and then decided to forgo comfort for sleep, and lay on his stomach in only his jeans. One shoe was on, the other halfway under the bed. But what arrested her attention so violently was the great rainbow of bruises arching across his back and stretched around his side, disappearing beneath his stomach where he lay on the bed.

She couldn’t help herself. A horrified shriek escaped her, and Jim sprung up so quickly it made her head spin. The panicked look in his eyes did not escape her notice, nor did the way he made a desperate reach for his pocket, like he was trying to grab something – trying to defend himself? When he saw who was in his room, and that they were alone, and that there was no danger, the raw fear faded, though a hint of panic remained.

“Mom!” he squawked, crossing his arms across his chest like that would be enough to hide the dizzying array of green, purple, yellow, and black that blanketed his chest. She noticed with surprise the lean muscles of his arms. Jim had always been fit, but never strong. He’d never said anything about a gym and he’d never been serious about sports, but she filed this information away for later and focused on the problem at hand.

Her stomach twisted as her doctor’s eyes traveled slowly, deliberately down her son’s bare torso. The bruises were worse on his stomach and chest, something she hadn’t thought possible, and she realized with horror that some of them were days, maybe weeks, older than others. This – whatever this was – was not an isolated incident.

Rage like she’d never felt before, like the protective energy of all mothers who had come before her collected into one finely-honed sword, pierced her soul as she came to the only conclusion that made any logical sense: Someone had done this to her son.

When she spoke, she barely recognized her own voice, cold as the furthest depth of the ocean, shaking with unmitigated fury.

“Who did this to you?”

Jim’s answer didn’t surprise her, but she also didn’t believe it for a second. “No one. It… was an accident.” She watched, lips crammed together in an impossibly thin line, teeth grinding against one another, her hands trembling with a righteous anger she had no outlet for, as Jim slowly reached out for the shirt he’d left in a heap at the end of the bed, the other arm still wrapped protectively around his torso. She didn’t stop him. She would absolutely be examining his injuries fully before the evening was done, but for now, she’d seen enough. The sight of her son’s bruised flesh would burn in her memory forever, more clearly than when she saw it right in front of her.

Skittishly, like a cat caught sniffing around back alley garbage cans, he snatched up the shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He couldn’t hide the flinch as he raised his arms to pull the fabric over his head. As he did so, she got the full view of his torso, and the wild, impossible thought flitted through her mind that it almost looked like some giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed. The image, however nonsensical, sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her anger swelled again, and the crest of it burst forth, no longer containable, and the only person she could release it on was the one who was actively lying to her.

“James Lake, Jr. – do you think I’m an idiot?!”

Jim froze, his hands stilling completely as he adjusted the neck of his tee. He had never heard his mother direct such cold fury at anyone, let alone himself. “W-what? Of course not, Mom. I just–”

“You expect me to believe that you accidentally hurt yourself this badly? That you woke up one morning and you were covered in bruises? Jim, I’m a doctor. I see people come in for less than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have fractured ribs.” Now the anger was giving way to panic. “And don’t think that I haven’t noticed that some bruises are newer than others. This isn’t something that just ‘happened’ and it’s not an accident. So tell me. Who – the – hell – did this to my son?”

A small, ridiculous surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of her as she watched Jim’s mouth fall open. He’d never heard his mother utter a word stronger than darn before. She’d always been very careful about the language she used in front of him. But his condition released something feral inside of her, and it was honestly a bit of a shock that nothing stronger came out.

She watched his face, saw the conflict in his eyes, knew with even more surety that he was hiding something big from her and trying to decide if he was going to answer truthfully. Well, tough luck. He wasn’t leaving his bedroom until he answered her question.

He must have seen this in her eyes, for after a moment, he dropped his gaze. Heavily, he sat down on the foot of his bed and stared down at his hands. “Mom, I… can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

At this, the fear took center stage again, and Barbara fell to her knees in front of her son, cupping his face in her hands. The tears she’d been holding back with such determination threatened to fall at the way he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment he was a child again, sniffling from a scraped knee and being comforted by his mother. That moment ended all too quickly, because his scraped knee was actually a bruised and battered torso, and he wasn’t a child anymore, and he was in trouble.

“Jim. Whatever is going on, I promise, I won’t be angry. But someone is hurting you. You can’t deny that. What is happening to my son?” She tried not to speculate – dared not speculate – but so many possibilities chased themselves through her head, each one worse than the last. Bullies? Abusive teacher? Drugs?

He sat for a moment, a slumped, defeated statue with too much weight on his young shoulders – Young Atlas, Walter’s voice echoed in her mind. She saw the exact moment when he made his decision. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and met her eyes once more. Something brewed within those beautiful blue depths, but what it was she couldn’t say. Was it regret? Guilt? Fear?

“It really was an accident,” he finally said, voice slow and measured.

“Jim, really–!”

“I’m telling the truth, Mom!” he insisted so fervently that she was tempted to believe him. Almost.

“Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” she demanded. “What kind of ‘accident’–”

“A Vespa one,” Jim blurted, and his eyes flickered down to his hands in shame. “I… a friend gave me a ride on his Vespa. I was on the back and got thrown off and rolled halfway down the embankment before a tree caught me right in the ribs.”

Fresh panic wormed its way into Barbara’s mind at Jim’s confession. As horrible as it was, part of her desperately wanted to believe him. If he had been in a vehicle accident, then no one had been deliberately hurting her child. It was just his own irresponsibility and stupidity.

“When did this happen?”

A beat. Then, sheepishly, “... yesterday.”

But – “What about the older bruises, Jim? Did you get into two Vespa accidents?”

“Paintball,” Jim answered without missing a beat. “We had a whole thing a few months back. Guys versus girls. And I got hit. A lot.”

Barbara recalled clearly the size and location of the older bruises that had peeked out from underneath the fresh, reaching ones. They could have easily been from punches or kicks, but it was feasible that the bruises could have come from being shot at close-range by a paintball gun.

Deep down, something still nagged at her. But Jim’s explanation was a siren’s call and she was so tired of swimming.

“Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?” The gaze she fixed on him one would have withered a succulent.

Without hesitation, Jim answered, his voice clear, strong, and insistent. “Yes.”

Relief flooded through her, and she squashed the last remaining doubts, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “In that case, you are grounded.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “What, really? You promised you wouldn’t be angry!?”

“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. Let’s see, you know how I feel about both paintball and those Vespas and yet you went behind my back and nearly got yourself killed. You’ve been lying to me, Jim, keeping secrets. Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Why you’ve been so distant?” It didn’t explain why he’d been getting into more trouble than usual, but right now she would take what she could get.

The slightest of hesitations. “Yeah.”

She considered, eyes burning into him, for a long moment, then she sighed, the sound of every evil thing escaping Pandora’s box, and she clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, come on.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital.”

Jim groaned. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just bruised.”

“I’m not taking any chances, mister. You could have fractured ribs. You should have been rushed to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. Who is this friend, anyway? Why didn’t he take you to the E.R.?”

Jim scratched the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t know him,” he evaded, and Barbara made a promise to herself to revisit this point later. “And we were afraid we’d get into trouble…”

“Well, you did, kiddo. Now, get up. We’re going to the hospital, you’re getting x-rays, and then we’re getting ice cream.”

Jim blinked up at her. She wondered if he realized his arm was curled protectively around his ribs as he slowly eased himself off the bed. “Ice cream? I thought I was grounded.”

“You’re hurt, Jim, and I’m your mother. I’m not a monster.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s mouth at her words, and not wanting him to get too comfortable, she added, “You are grounded, though. Absolutely. You’re not going anywhere after school for at least two weeks. And depending on the x-rays, you might not be leaving your bed for a while, either.”

“Mooom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me. Now, put your other shoe on. Let’s hussle. I want you looked at as soon as possible.”

What she didn’t see as she turned to leave the room was the heavy curtain of guilt being drawn over Jim’s face.

Later, she’d drive him home with a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and deep bruising across 80 percent of his torso and a bottle of muscle relaxers for the pain. They’d get ice cream and he would mope about bedrest and she would try to cheer him up (but not too much; he was still grounded, after all). But behind the pain of his injuries lurked a deeper, fierer ache that no balm could soothe, no medication could ease.

With every lie, he could feel the chasm widen between him and his mother, and it hurt more than a few broken ribs and bruises ever could.