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shegatsby · 3 months ago

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Hello there!

Saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd leave this here. What about a Hannibal x reader who is a lot like Amy Dunne (Gone girl)? Sorta like friends to enemies to lovers vibes.

Like, she is trying to escape the life she once had under a new identity. She wants a second chance ig. However, upon meeting Hannibal, the nosy bastard just can not stop himself from looking into her and only becomes even more intrigued when he notices her lack of well... authenticity?

She feels threatened by Hannibal just as much as she is attracted to him. Does she flee once more? Do they have a confrontation? Does he try coax or manipulate her back into old habits? Do they form some sort of alliance? Ugh if only I had the creativity and the ability to make choices when it comes to these things! (Totally up to you if you want to add fluff, or smut, or angst, btw)

Anyway, thank you :)

A/N: Hi! Thnak you so much for this request, it was interesting to write. Take care. xxx

Warnings: Smut! Unprotected sex! Minors get the f out or else!

Her mind was a dark place when it comes to men, if she avoided them her entire life none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t have to run to a different state and change her entire identity.. she cursed under her breath when she sat on her new couch in her new home. Now she was in Wolf Trap Virginia, it was moderately cold in winters and it was winter, she moved here in the spring. In the spring it was beautiful, she had always loved flowers and plants, sometimes she wished to be a plant and connect to the soil, it would be a lot easier than this. She bought this house with the money she had from her husband, ex husband who supposedly went ‘’missing’’ one day and left her, she had an excuse to start a new life and that she did. She didn’t want any former friends or family members to contact her thus the change came with its glory. New hair, new style of clothing, new house, new environment.

The house she bought was old and that’s why cheaper than others so she still had some money left, the only problem was that she had to renovate it on her own, sometimes she had cable issues or pipes were making noises etc. However, this time her luck was on her side because she met someone. One night a dog came up to her door, it was a cold night and she let the dog in, it had a name tag but no address so she thought the owner would look for it soon and she was right. The owner of the dog was her neighbor Will Graham, their houses weren’t that close but she had seen him at the supermarket or driving. He offered to help her with fixing the pipes etc. and she offered nice chats and warm meals. Over time they started to share information about each other, of course everything she said was false but Will was honest, he was a university teacher in the department of criminology also he was working for the FBI. She had wondered if Will ever saw her husband’s missing case. Their friendship developed and she started to go to his house, it was Christmas when she met him,

Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

Will invited her for Christmas dinner and said his other friends and colleagues would be there, mostly FBI, at first she hesitated but wouldn’t be fun for them to be in a room with a killer, little did she know that she wasn’t the only killer in the house.

She wore a nice sweater and black pants, she was simple yet pure looking. She didn’t drive to his house but walked, it wasn’t close but it wasn’t far either. Light snow was falling from the sky, she liked snow and Christmas time, Will’s house was decorated nicely, it looked colorful and warm.

She held her breath and knocked on the door, soon Will answered, holding a mug, he looked cute in his brown sweater and his messy hair, ‘’Glad you could make it.’’ He let her in.

One by one Will introduced her to the others, it wasn’t crowded, before Will could speak the man standing before her extended his hand, ‘’Doctor Hannibal Lecter.’’ She shook his hand, ‘’Y/N, nice to meet you.’’ She said shortly, feeling uncomfortable under his questioning gaze, Will’s boss Jack joked, ‘’Don’t worry Ms, Doctor Lecter loves to carry his psychiatric work to his social gatherings.’’

‘’A Psychiatrist? I must be careful in this room.’’ She thought to herself.

Rest of the night went smoothly, at the dinner table she had a nice chat with others especially Alana Bloom, she made her feel comfortable, however she kept feeling Dr. Lecter’s maroon gaze and every time she looked at him was watching her, he wasn’t shy of eye contact either. Y/N not saying her last name didn’t go unnoticed by him and he captured her under his observation. She looked extra careful, speaking slowly and choosing her words meticulously. Will and others were smart but they didn’t share his twisted mind and intellect.

After dinner people started to have conversations privately and she got a glass of eggnog and standing by the fire place, Will’s dogs sleeping at corners of the house, ‘’I haven’t got your full name Ms?’’ she heard his deep voice, he had a subtle accent underneath, maybe he was running just like her?

‘’Oh?’’ she asked turning to him, ‘’I apologies, its Y/N Y/L/N.’’ she smiled gently but her eyes were dead, he could see, ‘’It rhymes, your parents must have a good sense of humor.’’ He commented, she could understand that he was intrigued by her, he made a mental note to dig into her social media accounts and thanks to his work with the FBI he had access to search for people’s ID.

‘’May I ask,’’ he began wondering, ‘’what is the true nature of your relationship with Will?’’ because Will never mentioned her till tonight. Her eyes were on the flames, ‘’One night, his dog wandered to my door and he came back to take him, we have been friends since then.’’ She turned to him, there was a warmth to her eyes with the memory, Hannibal was sure now that she wasn’t a sociopath. She could feel things, it could come in handy one day.

‘’Such a sweet story. Will is very fond of his strays.’’ He threw a bait to see if she was going to get angry, because his comment had undertones. ‘’Aren’t we all?’’ she replied quickly. She was smart.

After that night she wished she never saw him again but fate had its own story. The very next day she received a note on her porch, it was printed, ‘’Save me a dance, Fondly.’’ As soon as she read it she dropped the note and called Will. Recently there was a killer on the loose, he was targeting young women who live alone. At first the women find the note and then they are kidnapped within few days, later they end up dead. It could be a stupid prank but she had to be sure, Will brought his team to investigate, the people you dined with yesterday evening now were in your living room questioning you. How odd.

‘’Can you tell us everything Ms Y/L/N?’’ Jack Crawford asked with his professional voice. She told them everything which wasn’t much, Will was sitting next to her, holding her hand in a friendly manner but it irritated Hannibal for some reason he couldn’t place and it made him more irritated. ‘’She has to leave, immediately.’’ His sudden comment made everyone look at him, ‘’Our killer is moving quickly these days. She should be in a protection program.’’ He was saying this on purpose, because he had a plan. ‘’You know what happened last time.’’ Jack replied calmly and yet she could sense that the last woman was most likely dead now. ‘’Before you can arrange accommodations she could stay with me, no one would suspect a thing.’’ Hannibal’s suggestion made her froze, she turned to Will to say something and Hannibal understood her intention and added quickly, ‘’Will lives too close to Ms Y/L/N, the killer is also a stalker. He knows your friendship with Will.’’ He was making sense which she hated. ‘’Ms Y/L/N, please pack yourself a bag.’’ Jack’s final decision was made and she had no choice. She had to survive.

The journey to Hannibal Lecter’s home was a long one, at first Hannibal explained the case to her and they talked about it for a while and then she fell asleep, in this state Hannibal could examine her face closely, she looked like an angel, so soft and innocent but he knew deep down she had deep secrets and he couldn’t wait to reveal them. He enjoyed this game and he wasn’t going to let go of her anytime soon.

His house made her feel like she shouldn’t touch anything, just sit straight and observe. He had expensive taste when it came to architecture and interior design, paintings on the dark blue walls, every room had a marble fire place, the carpets felt soft under your feet.

‘’This is your room.’’ He walked her in the guest room, it had a queen sized bed with beige sheets, side tables, a big wardrobe which she didn’t even need because she brought a tiny bag, thankfully the room had bathroom and toilet side, in the bathroom there were various hair masks, face masks, shampoos and scrubs etc. ‘’I called a friend to bring these skincare products, I didn’t know which you usually use so my friend got various types. I hope they will be useful.’’

His gesture made her think about him again, it was nice but was he too enthusiastic?

‘’Thank you Doctor.’’ She replied shortly, ‘’Please, call me Hannibal.’’ He gave her a small smile, ‘’I’ll let you freshen up and dinner will be ready shortly.’’

‘’Its okay you don’t have to-‘’ he cut her short, ‘’Please, you are a guest under my roof, and I love to cook for my guests.’’ And he left without letting her speak, she took a long shower to relax and wore a long t-shirt and leggings, his house warm and she was getting more comfortable. She walked downstairs and Hanniabl’s high senses picked up on her fresh skin, she smelled of vanilla and he liked it very much. ‘’Dinner is ready.’’

He also freshened up, he was in more casual clothes but he still looked sophisticated, ‘’Smells delicious.’’ She commented and watched Hannibal pull up a chair for her, ‘’Tastes delicious too.’’ She could hear him close to her ear as she sat, he smelled manly and dominant. He sat to his place, and they started to eat, dinner was a warm soup ad fish with fresh bread, salad on the side and red wine. The fire place was lit in the dining room they were eating, ‘’Hmm,’’ she hummed when she tasted the fish it was so soft and tasty, ‘’You like it?’’ Hannibal shifted in his seat when he heard her, is dark mind went to imaginary intimate scenes with her… imaginary and yet for a second he craved them to be real. He had to give her credit she was a beautiful woman with a feminine aura, but he could sense that she was hiding things from her past and he had to know.

‘’Yes, Hannibal. Thank you.’’ She smiled kindly to him, ‘’How long do I have to stay here?’’ she asked curiously, ‘’As you know Jack is the head of the FBI, he has to make sure he finds a safe and secluded place for you and then I will help you move there. But these processes take time, a lot of paper work so you will be here for a while. I hope you will like it.’’ He explained, testing the waters.

‘’I like your home, especially the interior design, I love paintings, I often visit museums actually.’’ And the conversation of fine art and literature started. She was a well read woman which he admired and liked very much, they exchanged ideas about famous novels and later he played some music for her, he could play harpsichord and he played Vivaldi’s Winter. She sat near to him by the fire with a glass of red wine in her palm, it was delicious, she liked the atmosphere he provided.

The days have passed and made them grow close to each other, with time she started to cook dinner for him when he came from work, she started to clean the house, organize and help him host when he needed. She wondered why Jack still couldn’t find a safe house for her when in fact he kept sending houses to Hannibal via e-mail and Hannibal found excuses and declined on behalf of her, she had no idea about this. It had been a months since she moved in with him, in the mean time the killer didn’t kill no woman, he was silent and she prayed for him to be like that for a while.

One day Hannibal forgot to bring his laptop with him to his work, he left in a hurry because it was related to another case, he kissed her cheek, said goodbye and left, it became their custom. They were growing close but neither of them took a huge step, after he left she tidied around and was looking for a recipe and noticed that his laptop was open and he forgot so she went on Youtube, soon there was an email notification and she hesitated for a moment and then clicked on it. It was from Jack Crawford, sending him yet another safe house and she could feel her heart drop to her feet, she read all of the emails between them and Hannibal declining all of the houses Jack sent. Suddenly she felt trapped by a man.. again. That was the reason she had to killer ex husband and flee. He was an abusive man with drugs and often abused her and cheated on her, one day she had enough, she didn’t remember how she did it but when it was done her husband was on the floor with 50 stab wounds, she kept him in the freezer for a week, didn’t know what to do with him, she cleaned the entire home, burnt every piece of clothing that had blood and she melted the knife she had used, after contemplating for a week she burnt his finger tips and took off his teeth, just in case if his body parts were found she didn’t want any identification to be found. Some of his parts were rotting under soil and some were deep in a lake or river, she survived and she was going to survive again.

She closed the email tab, and started to cook, she had a plan but so did Hannibal.

Hannibal had already learnt her past, one night after drinking few glasses of strong wine she told him where she was born and said she was divorced and that’s all he needed to know. Thanks to his connection to the FBI it wasn’t so hard to find her old ID. Yes, she was married once despite her young age, the husband was missing and she left their state and travelled all the way to start a new life. He knew that she was the one who made him go ‘’missing’’ and he found himself getting excited. Usually people get caught in their first kill because it is always a sloppy job but she managed to live and make every detail disappear from the public eye. He was just waiting for the right time to expose that he already knew. Tonight was the night.

He came back from work a bit late but as soon as he opened the door his nostrils picked up the delicious scent coming from the kitchen, since it was two of them most of the time they started to eat in the kitchen by the tall window looking outside and chatting about their day.

He walked to the kitchen and there she was, she was wearing a long black dress, covering her entire body but her curves were crystal clear, she was an astonishing woman and Hannibal was the one who could witness it. He was glad she killed her husband because he wanted her all to himself.

‘’Welcome back love.’’ She said and smiled, ‘’You go ahead and freshen up and then we can eat together.’’ He wasn’t an idiot, he picked up on her coldness, she was colder than usual. ‘’See you in a bit.’’ Hannibal replied and went upstairs, as usual he freshened up, didn’t forget to hide a small knife under his sleeve and came back to the kitchen, she smiled but it didn’t reach to her beautiful ears, he sat carefully on the kitchen stool, she brought the food, ‘’How was your day?’’ she asked casually, Hannibal’s eyes first roamed on her body, the white apron wrapped her body tight and made her body look pleasing, she looked much healthier than before, he did a great job taking care of her and so did she. Hannibal’s friends, especially Will and Jack kept mentioning how much Hannibal changed, there was a color to his face and his manners were warmer than before.

They chatted for a while, and then he watched her place her fork and knife on the empty plate, she drank her wine, ‘’I don’t want to beat around the bush anymore,’’ she began and Hannibal knew something was about to happen, ‘’you left your laptop and I saw the emails Jack kept sending you. You were declining his safe house offers for me.’’ Her bluntness made him more attracted.

‘’Give me a good reason.’’ Her voice was daring, he knew if he cannot give a good reason she is going to do something.

He could feel the cold blade in his sleeve, ‘’I simply do not see those houses fit. My house is the safest for you.’’

She stood up, ‘’You think you can put me in a cage!’’ her voice was threatening, ‘’I was trapped before and I’ll not be trapped again!’’

He knew she was traumatized by her marriage and she didn’t want to relive it, he could see it.

‘’That wasn’t my intention,’’ he stood up as well, there was space between them, she took off her apron and threw it on the floor, ‘’I’m leaving.’’ And as soon as she turned he grabbed her hand and made her clash onto his torso, ‘’You are not going anywhere darling.’’ He was so calm it made her question if he was human or not. ‘’Let go of me Hannibal!’’ she managed to get out of his grasp but this time he held her waist and pulled her again, he hugged her from behind, ‘’You cannot leave!’’ she could feel the blade and with a swift move she got the knife, it was sharp so it cut her finger, immediate blood running down her finger and coating her hand in crimson, ‘’Get back!’’ she tried to stab him but the knife was slippery in her hand, ‘’You cut yourself.’’ His voice was so soft and caring, tears running down her cheeks ‘’Please,’’ she begged, ‘’I can’t do it again..’’ she couldn’t help the tears, she couldn’t relive her past.

Hannibal was quick, he trapped her between his body and the kitchen island, he threw the knife on the floor, ‘’Listen to me Y/N.’’ their bodies were pressed, they were breathing heavily, ‘’I won’t do anything to hurt you,’’ she searched his maroon eyes, under the yellow warm lights she could see his dilated pupils, like a man who was drugged, ‘’I am not the man you think I am, I will never do anything to hurt you.’’ He was holding her firmly on both arms, ‘’I did everything for you!’’

She was trying hard to find a lie, or something suspicious in his eyes, but he was telling the truth.

She found herself hugging him, it had been so long since she hugged someone, maybe… maybe this could be it. He was startled at first but then he hugged her back, as they parted he captured her lips, he had wanted to do that for so long. The kiss was so passionate it knocked the breath out of her, his lips were plump and delicious, he was perfect.

As they were kissing their hands were exploring their bodies, his torso and arms were so firm and manly his hands went to the skirts of her dress, pulling up, she let him. Her hands went to his belt and he helped her, Hannibal had to be honest, he had been imagining this scene for weeks, he wanted to be at the comfort of his bed but both of them couldn’t wait that long for they were desperate.

He was biting her lips, moaning like a mad man, when her hand went to is boxers and she felt how hard he was and she moaned into his mouth which made him get more exited, she pumped him through his boxers, Hannibal wasn’t like this usually but something in her brought his dark animalistic side to the light and he felt like himself, without faking to fit in with the society. She was eager to pull his pants and bowers down and he quickly pulled everything down, she broke the kiss to look at his large cock, it was just as she expected, large and clean, his tip was covered in pre-cum, she looked up to meet his eyes, she could see the hunger and need, Hannibal made her sit on the kitchen island and positioned himself between her legs, he brought her black panties to the side, when he started to tease her with his tip she was a moaning mess, ‘’Hannibal..’’ she moaned in protest, it had been so long since she had slept with anyone.

He looked at her divine face, cheeks flushed, mouth parted, ‘’Do you want me?’’ he asked with a low baritone, ‘’Yes, please.’’ She replied eagerly and he slowly pushed his cock in her soaking core, Hannibal almost came with the contact because she was so tight it was unbelievable.

The blood on her hand dried but left marks on his clothes, neck, cheeks, he deeply buried himself and moaned in satisfaction, she was gripping him tight, he pulled back completely and pushed again and started a rhythm. His balls were slapping her, wet noises filling the kitchen, ‘’Kiss me.’’ She begged and he complied willingly, he was like a wild animal, she could feel his cock tearing her insides, when he grabbed her boob tightly they both felt the wetness growing inside her, even though they were fully clothed they didn’t care. He let his tip hit her insides fiercely and she had to break the kiss to moan loudly, he was hitting the spot which his ex husband could never do, this was something she was experiencing for the first time and her eyes rolled back, her head falling back and Hannibal buried his head to the crook of her neck, he kissed her neck, biting her and leaving bruises. ‘’Hannibal…’’ she moaned his name over and over again.

She was getting tense which Hannibal noticed and he soothed her, ‘’Shhh, let go, don’t be afraid..’’ he knew she was holding back and with his encouraging words she came in gush of water, it was her first time squirting and it was intense, Hannibal caressed her face, her hair and let her live it, experience it for the first time, he pulled out and didn’t mind the mess she made, matter of fact it was hot and he wanted to continue fucking her and leave her seed in her, would she allow it? He wanted to try.

When she relaxed a bit he pushed back in, he wasn’t done with her, and now she was more sensitive, the tiny voices she was making pushed him over the edge and he came inside her really hard, he was a moaning mess and she loved it, she kissed her as he came, when they were done she kissed her gently, he was still buried deep, ‘’It’s okay.’’ She said, noticing the worry in his eyes, he kissed her back, Hannibal knew that after tonight he wasn’t going to let her ago.

She was his.

Thank you for reading. :)

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woso-fan13 · 1 year ago

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Sicktember 2023: 19 (USWNT)

Curled Up With a Pet

“Where’s Y/N?” Kelley asks as she enters the kitchen.

She had just gotten back from her run and was greeted with Emily cooking breakfast. The two share a quick kiss before Kelley looks around, noticing that you’re not there. After an unexpected and sudden transfer, the couple insisted that you move in with them, at least temporarily. You had been casually looking at apartments, but no one was in a rush to break up the makeshift family that had formed.

Usually, you would be perched on one of the barstools, watching and talking to whoever was cooking. Today, though, your stool was empty.

Emily frowns, looking around the kitchen as if you would suddenly appear.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen Bagel yet, either, I assumed that the three of you had gone for a run together.”

Kelley shakes her head, looking over to see that the dog’s dish was still full of the breakfast she had given him before she left. This was highly unusual, he usually shoveled it down as soon as he got up.

Emily turns the stove off and puts a lid over the oatmeal, and the two women walk upstairs. She knocks lightly on the doorframe before peeking her head through the open door. Smiling at the sight, she walks into your room, Kelley following close behind.

The sunlight was streaming in through the windows and illuminating your room. They could see Bagel passed out on the bed, fast asleep. You were behind him- one arm thrown around his stomach and your face hidden in his fur. After taking a picture (and sending it out to all of your teammates) the women exit the room quietly, pulling the door mostly shut.

This was the first time that the women had seen you sleep in, and they weren’t going to mess with it. It was usually a struggle to get you to sleep at all, so they avoided waking you if at all possible.

—-

A while later, Kelley had showered and the two had eaten a leisurely breakfast. There was no training today, just an optional but highly encouraged group recovery later in the afternoon. The two women moved to the living room, an old game playing on the tv in the background as they talked.

They still had not heard anything from you. Both women could feel worry growing in the pit of their stomach, this behavior was so unlike you that they could tell something must be wrong.

After the conversation had drifted to you for the third time and they knew they wouldn’t stop worrying, the women retraced their steps back to your room.

Kelley whistled quietly, getting the dogs attention, “hey, bagel boy, go get your food,”

At that beloved ‘f’ word, the dog pops up on the bed, hopping off and tripping over himself in his haste to get to his breakfast. His movement had caused you to be distributed, and you buried your face into the pillow.

The two women walk over, sitting on either side of the bed. Kelley rests one of her hands on your back, rubbing gently but firmly. Emily rakes her fingers through your hair. She continues this action a few times before she moves to smooth your messy hair back from your face. Once her hand makes contact with your forehead, she freezes. She moves it slightly, resting her palm on your forehead before flipping it over to use the back of her hand. A knowing look forms on her face.

Kelley can take a guess as to what Emily’s figured out. She moves her hand off of your back- ignoring the way her heart clenches at the small whine you make at the loss of contact- and rests her wrist on your forehead.

Her suspicions confirmed, she moves her hand back to your back and resumes her comfort. This time, the strokes are less purposeful- less about waking you up. Now, they’re trying to allow you to relax and rest.

As Kelley watches you slowly relax under her hand, she hears pattering in the hallway. Seconds later, a hurricane of paws and fur comes tumbling onto the bed, scooting in next to you and sacking out with a huff. The dog nudges your cheek with his cold nose, and the women watch as you curl back around your canine companion.

#uswnt players #uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagines #reader insert #woso x reader #uswnt imagine #womens soccer #woso #woso imagine #uswntsoccer #uswnt fanfic #uswnt reader #uswnt imagines

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blair-the-juggalho · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I absolutely love your TWDG writing. And I have been having a bad day bc my tooth broke and I'm stressed -_-

Could you possibly make a "TWDG S4 characters when a bubbly Y/N is upset/sad"? ^_^

Hey yeah ofc! And I’m so sorry I hope your day gets better lovely :(

Also I did this as platonic lmk if ya want me to redo it idm! 😭

Another sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes it’s half three am and I’m tired

Also side note, sorry I’ve been like gone a lot of stuff happened and I lost intrest in the game but it’s kinda coming back I’m just getting use to writing again so if this sucks I’m SO SORRY 😭😭😭💖💖💖

TWDG S4 characters when a bubbly Y/N is sad

Violet

She’d find you a bit strange and would tease you but in honesty she loves how bubbly you are

Whenever life gets her down all she has to do is spend some time around you and she feels better

She notices instantly when you’re upset tho and will give it a few minutes before coming up to you

“Hey. What’s up? Why are you all depressed?”

But fr tho that’s her job 😞 LMAO SORRY

But you’ll open up to her and she silently nods along

Whatever it is she gets it

“Yeah…it sucks sometimes…”

She won’t say much but she offers to go somewhere more private so you two can chill and just complain to each other

She’s not all that good at comfort but she’d really try

When your back to normal she’d have a small smile on her face

“Ya happy again now?”

She’d be a bit upset if you’d want to go right back to being around everyone else but she’d join you anyway cuz she’s just happy to see you smile again

Mitch

He doesn’t really get it I mean how can anyone be happy living like this? I mean sure it’s manageable at times but it still sucks

He’d never on his life say it but he does secretly enjoy how happy you are even if he’d tease you for it

When he sees you upset tho I’m so sorry but this man is useless here

He doesn’t notice at first but after Willy or someone points it out he picks up on it and worries a bit

However he just hopes you cheer up on your own and doesn’t say anything

But he does watch out for you in the corner of his eye

He just assumes if it’s really bad you’ll come to him

Cuz he won’t come to you unless your both alone

When you do tell him what’s up he’s still not very helpful

“Damn…that sucks..”

He does care he’s just rubbish at showing it

He will let you stay with him but be warned you’ll both be sat in silence if you’re not in a talking mood

But when you do cheer up he’s relived

again, not that he’d voice it

“Happy again huh?”

Marlon

Marlon finds you to be a breath of fresh air, he always has a gentle smile on his face when your around

He’s happy that you can bring the others up too cuz a happy group is a good group yk

Plus you keep him calm too

So when he sees his usual happy friend down in the dumps he’s very confused

What happened to you?

He watches you for a bit then walks over to you and asks if you’re ok and if ya wanna talk

Hell take you up to the office and will listen to you explain why your upset

He listens and offers some advice and comfort

He’ll let you stay with him for a bit and if you like dogs yk he’ll get rosy to give you some comfort hugs and all

He just has normal conversations with you and will say that he hopes you cheer up soon cuz what would they all do without your positive ways

When you cheer up he’ll have a big smile and if your ok with it he’ll pull you in for a hug and definitely does that back pat and rub (yk the that you do to a friend or family to either be like heyy! Or ok that’s enough now)

Louis

HELLO YOUR BASICALLY THE ONLY OTHER PERSON THEIR WHO CAN MATCH HIS ENERGY

Like he needs to see you all happy and lively because that makes him more happy and lively too!

And this mf he instantly knows when you’re down and he will come up to you and just say “aww what’s wrong (name)? You gotta turn that frown upside down!” He might even pull an over the top sad face too

Depending on what kinda person you are this either kind of works or makes it so much worse

If he does realise that he’s not helping he panics a bit like

“Oh no- they really are sad…what do I doooooo?? This is badddd…”

He’s not all that good in serious situations and will try healing you with comedy and laughter

He’ll tell jokes, tease the others at Ericsson’s

Anything to cheer you up

Heaven forbid the moment you actually do cuz this mans energy is amplified by 100

“is that a smile I see?? So mx grumpy finally cheered up? Ha well it seems I’m just the best at curing sadness.” He acts all cocky but he’s just joking

He’s very pleased to see ya back to your regular self again

Aasim

Aasim always found it curious how someone so happy could exist in a world like this

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it

He can’t match your energy but he does support your cheerful ways

He won’t voice it but you do cheer him up when he’s having a bad day

he notices when you’re upset very quickly n all it’s very obvious lmao

He’ll give it a few minutes but after a while he’ll cave and awkwardly walk over to you

“So…you ok? You seem upset…”

You tell him what’s up and he listens

He either gives you advice or will empathise with you saying he gets it

He just kinda silently sits next to you cuz he doesn’t really know what to say

You both just kinda sit around for a while

he won’t really offer it out loud but he doesn’t mind giving you a hug if it will cheer you up

He just waits for you to feel better and is thankful when you do

(Sorry but damn this man I just can’t imagine he’d be much help here that sounds horrible Ik ik 😞)

Omar

This man is grateful that you’re the way you are even if he doesn’t voice it a lot

He’s also a silent observer so when he saw you where upset he just quietly watched you

I think he either doubts how good he is at comforting or he’s too preoccupied but he’ll still watch you for you

He’s kinda hoping it’s just a off day and you’ll perk up again in a while

He waits to see if anyone else will check up on you or if you’ll come to him

But if enough time has passed and both of those didn’t happen he’ll slowly make his way over to you

He doesn’t say much but he listens to you

The few times he does speak it’s either reassurance or advice

He will stay with you for as long as he can and if he had to start cooking again he’d let you stand next to him while he does so

When you cheer up again he wont say much but he has a smile on his face

Ruby

Ruby fully appreciates your bubbly ways and she will usually match your energy when she can

She really thinks you totally brighten up Ericssons!

But today you were acting totally different and she could just sense it

Like there was a shift in the air she just picked up on before she even saw you

Since she gives me like mother friend vibes she totally instantly goes over to ya

Are you ok hun? Ya seem down? What’s happened? Do ya need some space?

She’s there and she will listen to ya 100%

She does whatever she can to be supportive and she might tell a few rubbish puns to make you smile again

She’ll get all protective of ya too like if anyone tries to annoy ya (which I doubt anyone would but yk just incase) she will get so mad at them she’s shout at them and scold them so much

She’ll either stay by you till you cheer up or will give you the space if you need it but the moment she sees that smile she loves so much and that cheery personality she adores she’s matching that happy face

Brody

This girl loves how bubbly you are it’s such a nice change of pace from the usually rubbish day to day apocalypse life

You don’t know how much you can cheer her up and make her feel more relaxed

So she was super quick to notice that you where sad

Huh that’s (name), why arn’t they all happy?? Where’s that lovely smile gone??

I don’t think she’d straight away ask if you where ok cuz maybe you needed some space? I mean it’s normal to get upset now a days but this isn’t like you

She’d ask the others like Marlon if they noticed that you’ve done a total 180

She’d still stay put but keeps a close eye on you and after a few minutes of watching you mope around she’d walk up to you and ask if you where ok

After you tell her what’s got ya so bummed out she’d do anything to get that smile back

She’d listen to you, give you advice if you wanted it, she’d give you a hug literally anything!

She’d also try to distract you by planning some made up road trip (a beach trip if I remember correctly??)

She needs to see her friend go back to their bubbly self 😞

Once you do cheer up she just sighs in relief man she’s happy you’re back to normal lmao

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdg x reader #twdg louis #twdg mitch #twdg season 4 #twdg s4 #twdg violet #twdg marlon #twdg aasim #twdg omar #twdg ruby #twdg brody

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yall-batman-fanfic · 1 month ago

Text

A Promise Across Time | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Magician!Reader ft. Justice League Dark (Part 2/3)

Synopsis: Trapped in time, Bruce slowly regains his memories and leaves traces in history as he is constantly pushed through different timelines leaving traces for Vivian to find.

Vivian refuses to accept what has happened. She has gone through books and books of witchcraft that she was locked up and long forgotten to find him, and watching her go down this spiral were the rest of their family – Dick, Jason who came home as soon as he heard the news, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Barbara, and Stephanie. All who have been trying to help her grieve but the woman was inconsolable.

At one point, Dick tried to pull her away from the books and keep her away from going to the realm of the dead to find Bruce and she told him, “What’s the point of all this power if I can’t bring back the person I love? If I had this power when they took you – each of you – from me,” she turned to her sons who she had witnessed die and return, “I would have done the same. I would have gone through hell just to get you back.”

And she has. She has gone for Jason; she went to hell to find him only to come back when she was forced to come back.

But they knew Bruce wouldn’t want her to go through that spiral again, so Jason pulled her away from the books and trapped her in an embrace, he didn’t let her go even when she fought. She didn’t use magic though, she never used her magic against them, so she fell into his arms and sobbed.

Vivian fell asleep in his arms then, tired and sad. Jason brought her to bed and stayed at her side the entire night. Alfred came with his dinner and a blanket to use, but just as Jason finished eating, Dick called for him to meet.

“Alfred and Ace would watch her,” Dick said to Jason just as the dog walked in the room and snuggled beside Vivian. “We all need to talk.”

They went to the Batcave where the others were already waiting.

“What’s this about, Dick?” Jason asked.

It was Tim who spoke. “Crimerate has gone up since last week. And it’s been three weeks since Bruce’s death. Gotham’s syndicates have now noticed Batman’s absence.”

“And? We haven’t stopped our patrols,” said Jason.

“Gotham needs Batman, Todd,” Damian said, coldly. “The Robins alone cannot keep the scums in line. They need something to fear.”

“Then be scary.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“The hell it’s not? If Gotham needs Batman then be Batman.”

“That’s why we called everyone here – Cass, Barbara, Steph, Duke, Kate. To decide.”

Jason scoffed. “You all act like it’s not obvious. Do you really think Bruce would ever give me the cowl?! Should I give you a refresher on the history of my relationship with our father?”

“Jason,” Dick tried to stop him.

“There’s no question about it — everyone knows, Dick! You just don’t want it. It’s Dick. The first Robin. The first son. It has always been Dick.”

“That’s not –”

“I don’t care who the fuck you want to wear that cowl. I have my own thing going on. And I don’t give a shit about it now either. If you haven’t noticed but Ma needs us right now and we’re here talking about who is gonna be Batman.”

“Gotham needs Batman, Jason,” Barbara tried to reason with him.

“Tell him that,” Jason pointed at Dick. “I’m going up stairs.”

“Jason, wait! We’re not done… talking…” Barbara sighed. “Cass, where are you going?”

Cass looked at them and said, “Mom.” and went up after Jason.

Tim sighed loudly. “Despite the emotionally driven point, Jason is right, Dick.”

Dick’s frown deepened as he looked at the uniform on the mantle. “The burden of a legacy unwanted,” he muttered.

“What did you say?” Duke asked.

He shook his head, “Something Vivian once told me. If I’m going to do this, I want to make it clear that I’m doing it for Vivian and for Gotham, not Bruce.”

Kate chuckled cynically, “As long as you’re fighting for something. If this meeting is done, we have work to do. Before Bruce died we have been training to work more as a unit than as individual fighters. For the past few months your coordination with one another has improved. With the new dynamics – with Dick now being Batman, Jason not in the field tonight – we’ll need to rearrange our tactics.”

“What about Cass?” Duke asked.

“She’ll come down when we call for her. It’s your call now, Batman,” Kate turned to Dick.

Dick turned to the monitor and saw the numerous security footage that showed the crimes around Gotham. “Suit up, we’ll head out once everyone’s ready. Spoiler, get Orphan.”

“You sure that we don’t need Jason tonight?” Tim asked.

“Does it sound like he’ll be listening to a word we say tonight?”

“I guess you’re right about that…”

~*~

The Bat Family managed to keep the crime rate from going up for the next few weeks with their rigorous work, nightly patrols, and cases they closed by bringing more and more criminals to GCPD and some to Arkham Asylum. Eventually, Jason rejoined them and took on patrols. While all of that happened, Vivian was forced to return to work. She forced herself to come back as her family needed her now more than ever and because lawyers were now banging on their family home asking her to sign on papers.

After they made a story about Bruce’s going missing due to some accident while flying his jet, lawyers have come to their home with documents for Vivian to sign as his wife, and according to his Will his inheritor of all estates, and it will be up to her to decide how to distribute their assets to their children. But she has refused to see them for the past weeks, still grieving.

Alfred and Lucius have been keeping them at bay for her but it won’t be long until she can no longer put them off. But she kept reminding them that Bruce is not yet declared dead so they should back off.

Returning to work, Vivian received many condolences from her colleagues and students. Classes were not the same, and she has been a wreck. She would hide in the bathroom to hide and try to control the heartache whenever she would think about him or whenever she would find her wedding band and engagement ring.

And who knew her return would bring her to a discovery that brought chills down her spine.

It was during the long hours she spent on campus. Vivian stayed longer than she should at campus that day to grade some papers she neglected, and was just now catching up with the latest papers her students wrote. One in particular had her do a double take as she read about the symbol of the Batman that was worshiped by a tribe of Neanderthals, and was later worshiped still in the 17th century by pilgrims.

“Is this a joke?” Vivian muttered as she furiously read the paper. If it was a joke it wasn’t funny.

She was about to toss the paper into the pile until she saw a quote in the paper that had her from doing so. It was an excerpt from a man named Bruce in 17th century Gotham, and he wrote in a diary about the legacy of the Batman throughout the ages:

One moment does not define a person's life. It's the journey they made, the memories they leave with those who mourn their passing. And to have someone to mourn you means you have lived life as it is meant to be.

Vivian jumped from her seat upon reading it. She said those words on their first date. He jokingly accused her about reading it from a book but she didn’t. Those were her words, and she remembered Bruce writing it down in his journal.

It can’t be.

Grabbing the paper, not caring if she crumpled it in her hands, Vivian marched to the library, startling the student assistant behind the circulation desk that time.

“Professor Pryor?” The student called for her, confused.

Vivian approached him. “I… I need access to this journal,” she showed him the citation of the quote. “Please. It’s important.”

“Right this way, Professor.” The student brought her to the very back of the library and to the machine where they kept their digitized archives of sensitive materials that can no longer be contaminated by human touch. After finding the right folder, the student gave the seat to her. “Just click that to head to the next page.”

“Thank you. I’ll be alright now, thanks.”

“No problem, Professor.”

Once the student assistant was gone, Vivian checked the quote’s citation on the paper and looked for the page mentioned. She scrolled through the numerous pages and journals, finding the author’s penmanship to be even more familiar as time passed. Then there were sketches of a bat symbol, and then of a woman with red hair, then a locket. Her locket. Then she found the page. The two page spread that had the portrait of the woman with red hair.

It was her portrait.

And beside it was the journal entry.

… I remember more as her face becomes clearer. This time, I remember a beach. She wore an emerald dress. And spoke with deep meaning about life and legacy. My Vivian, I swore to never leave your side to save you the pain of grief because I know grief all too well. I have broken that oath but I have been studying the legacy of the Bat that has been haunting me for years, giving me glimpses of time from centuries passed.

All giving me answers to return. I have spent too long here, but if I were to disappear from here again and be pulled to another world. Follow the footprints I leave.

If you cannot then know that I have lived a life of happiness with you and our children.

Let not my passing define your existence. Remember the joy and live.

“Bruce,” she whispered as she read the entry. With shaky hands, Vivian reached for her phone and took a photo of the page then called the first person she could think of. It took two rings before the answered.

“Mama Bird, are you alright?”

“No – yes – I don't know,” Vivian was near to tears as she looked at the clipping again. “I-I need you to come here to campus.”

“A little busy here.”

“Dick, please… I know I haven’t been the here, that I left you to do this on your own. Please, I need you right now, and it will be the last. I promise, kiddo. I'll… open a portal for you, just come here. But just you for now. No. You and Tim.”

“Okay,” Dick said. “I'll have to get to Red Robin first. I'll give you a call when you can open a portal for us.”

“Okay. Thank you, son.”

Ending the call, Vivian waited, and while she did, she read through the journals. Taking notes on her phone on specific dates, locations, and going through different clippings that could help her not sound like an insane person.”

The call came, and using her magic, she looked for Dick and Tim and opened a portal for them. Batman and Red Robin passed through the portal with ease, both looking like they had a long night.

“What is it?” Dick asked.

“I know it might sound crazy but please keep an open mind,” Vivian handed him the paper she was grading. “This was written by a student of mine, I need you to skim through it. Both of you.”

They did, and the further they read the more their brows furrowed until Tim couldn't hold it in anymore, “is that – is — are they referring to some prehistoric Batman or something?”

Vivian nodded. “There, that quote.”

“One moment does not define a person's life. It's the journey they made, the memories they leave with those who mourn their passing. And to have someone to mourn you means you have lived life as it is meant to be,” Dick read.

“I said that to him – to Bruce,” Vivian whispered. “And look at these,” she gave Dick and Tim the seat to the Digitized records.

“The penmanship,” said Dick.

“And the choice of words,” Tim added.

“Not to mention the repeated drawings of Vivian and the Bat-symbol… and,” he froze when he saw a familiar phrase Vivian told him. “The burden of a legacy unwanted.”

When the two boys froze at the sight of it, Vivian spoke. “I know that I seem insane. And I don't blame you both if you think that I am. I haven't been the same since Superman and Wonder Woman gave the news, and I am so sorry for leaving you both with the burden to keep this family whole and for keeping Gotham from destroying itself. And I understand that you will never forgive me but I am telling you… it's him. It's Bruce. And I think this is his way to reach out to us from wherever he is.”

“When is more fitting,” Tim said. “Because he doesn't seem to leave Gotham at all. He's just going through different times.”

“If this is the case we need to tell the Justice League,” Dick got up.

“You don't think I'm crazy?” Vivian whispered.

Dick and Tim turned to her with raised brows.

“Of course not,” said Dick.

“Viv, we've seen aliens, died and came back to life, have seen gods and the list of goes on. Time traveling is probably the least problematic one on the list right now. Or at least the most sensible one for his disappearance.”

“Besides, we kind of believe if he did die, he would be haunting the Manor and keep any prowling suitors away from you. I mean, come on, a widowed billionaire? Who doesn't want that?” Dick joked. When he saw tears fell from her eyes, Dick pulled Vivian to his embrace and held her. “It's okay, Vivian. You have seen so much death in a lifetime. We all know how you and Bruce mean to each other, and we know how his loss affected you so much.”

“I'm so sorry, Dick,” Vivian cried. “I left you to pick everyone up. I was so selfish – I wasn’t the only one grieving him.”

“It's okay, Vivian,” Tim smiled sadly. “Hey, we're gonna get him back. You can stop crying now.”

“To have all the power of life,” Dick said. “We know how frustrating it must be for you to have all of that but can't save the people you love. And I don't want you to think that I won't be here when you need me. I'll always be here for you, Mom. Always.”

Vivian held her eldest boy and thanked him for everything he's done.

~*~

When Dick informed the Justice League about where they found Bruce, they immediately had Vivian brought to the Watchtower to consult in the matter, along with the research she and Tim and the others have created to track down Bruce's whereabouts through time. Arriving in the meeting room wearing the red coat she's been donning whenever she would be called to consult for the JLA, Vivian placed their research onto the monitor where a long timeline showed with photos of journals, paintings, and clippings that showed symbols of the Batman, portraits of Bruce, and portraits he drew of her.

The news came to Superman and Wonder Woman, and the other Leaguers as a shock. If that was the case then they should have stayed there and found a way to look for Bruce. Instead it took them months to find him and it was all because of a coincidence when Vivian was working on her students’ papers.

“Now that we found him, the question now is how do we get him back?” Superman asked. “Flash?”

Flash frowned. “I can't say for certain if I can bring him back here. And if I do, based on those journals, Bruce's consciousness is also aligned with that timeline. I don't know what will happen to him if we bring him back my way.”

“If science can't bring him back, then it's time we do it with magic,” Vivian summoned the seals and cast the incantation. A portal opened and stepping out was John Constantine.

“Save me back there from losing, Vee,” John said as he came through, dusting his coat and smoking a cigarette. As soon as he saw Vivian and the state of her his smug smile fell and he brought her to an embrace. “I heard what happened. I'm sorry, love.”

“We found him, John,” Vivian told him. “We found Bruce.”

John turned to her boys and said, “I told you to keep her away from black cats, and water, and live wires!”

“We did. And she found him not in that way,” said Dick who was in his Nightwing uniform. “Batman is stuck in another time.”

“Say that again?” John went to the table where a hologram of the journals and the timeline were and studied their research. “So, Darkseid sent the Bats back in time and he's been thrown around it like a fucking ragdoll. Nice work, by the way?” He turned to Vivian. “How sure are you that this is him?”

Vivian swiped to the left and the monitor showed the timeline moving until she stopped it at the journal entry she found in the library. “I said that to him on our first date.”

“The portrait was already proof but I guess the quote as well, and the fact there are hundreds of Bat symbols around. And based on this, he has no memory of who he is.”

“Yes,” Vivian answered. “But he's regaining his memories, John. Everyday he writes and it's like he's telling us that he remembers.”

“He's sending signs. He knows that one day his bookish-wife would come across these in the future and find him. Smart. But I'm not so sure if you notice but there is a problem. Bats is speaking like a fucking character in Shakespeare's play.”

“He’s speaking like a 17th century pilgrim,” said Tim. “Because he is in 17th century at the first settlement of Gotham.”

“Same thing.”

“It's not,” Vivian and Tim muttered.

“Why do you think the Bats is talking like Romeo, o Romeo?”

“We think his consciousness is also trapped in that certain period,” said the Green Lantern.

“We still don't know how this has happened,” said Wonder Woman, pertaining to Bruce's lost consciousness.

“Right. If science cannot answer, then that's where magic comes in, right?” John said. “Considering the facts that have now, we can't just drag his Shakespearean arse back here. What we need is to cleanse whatever he has inside that's pulling him through those timelines and is keeping his memories in shambles before we drag him back to the present.”

“When you say drag him,” Dick began.

“If he puts up a fight, Viv and I can just knock him out, do the magic and literally drag his arse through the portal. Easy.”

“Hold on, the way you're saying it,” Superman massaged the bridge of his nose. “Are you saying you two will go back in time to get Batman?’

“Only logical plan now.”

“Nothing is logical about this – what if you get stuck in there? We don't have a backup plan for that.”

“Call Zee, she'll know what to do.”

“Why not just have one of you go there?” Flash asked. “And the other one keeps the portal open.”

John pointed to Vivian. “She's out of practice. I don't have the cleansing fire-magic of the cosmos. She has the cleansing fire-magic of the cosmos. I'll be there to teach her so she doesn't cook husband. Any questions?”

“I'll go with you,” Damian spoke. “For protection.”

“No, you're staying here with the others,” Vivian told him. “Gotham needs you. All of you while Batman is missing.”

“And who is going to protect you while you're there?”

John looked at them with an incredulous look. “What, you think I'm just for show? Mind you, I don't have the no killing rule pulling my conscience. She's safer with me than with your sticks and yo-yos.”

The Robins didn't appreciate the comment but for Red Hood who shrugged and asked, “What do you need and when do you leave?”

“I'll just need the Eye of Chronos.”

“Whose eye?” Tim asked, quite concerned.

“Technically it is an eye, but it's no longer attached to said god. So, no mutilation will be made, and calm down boy scout,” he told Superman. Turning to Vivian, John held her by her shoulder and asked, “Are you ready for this, Vee?”

“I want Bruce back, John. If this is the way then yeah, I'm ready,” said Vivian.

“Great, let's go!” John opened the portal. “Lucky for you, I just won the Eye of Chronos in my last poker game with some demons from Hell. I'll get the Eye now, wait for me here.” Outside the Watchtower, Vivian saw the House of Mysteries floating about, and John disappeared from where he stood.

Turning to her sons, Vivian brought Damian to an embrace first then held Tim's hand. “I'll be back before you know it, and I'm bringing back Bruce with me,” she said to them.

“We know,” Dick smiled and brought her to an embrace. “We'll take care of Gotham while you're out there playing Doctor Who.”

Vivian laughed. It was the first time she laughed since Superman and Wonder Woman gave her the news about Bruce's supposed death. Getting on her toes, Vivian placed a kiss on Dick's cheek and said, “Thank you, kiddo. Thank you so much.”

“There is nothing to thank me for, Viv.”

Releasing Dick, Vivian turned to Jason. The tall young man removed his helmet and placed it on the table before approaching her with his head bowed down.

“Thank you, for being with me, my boy,” she whispered.

Jason pulled her to an embrace and said, “You'll be okay. You battled demons, dealing with Pilgrims will be easy.”

“I need to blend in, Jason. Or else they'll burn me at the stake or drown me or worse, flay me alive.”

“You can always give them hell,” Jason chuckled. “Be safe, Ma. And come back.”

“I will. And please, don't fight with Dick. I need you – all of you – to fight together and to have each other's back.”

“I will,” Jason released her just as John stepped out of the portal. “I promise.”

“Good,” Vivian smiled. Taking one good look at her boys once again, Vivian went to John who called for her, saying, “Chop chop, goodbyes are said. I promise to bring back Mummy and Daddy before bedtime.”

The Robins did not appreciate that at all.

“Alright,” John held out the Eye of Chronos. “First of all, we make sure that Batman doesn't jump again –”

“Uh, guys,” Tim called. “The system detected another artifact that's related to Batman and Bruce. This time, it's in the early 18th century. 1717. This time he's still in Gotham and is a… pirate-Batman.”

“Let me see!” Jason, Dick and Damian fought to get a closer look, both interested to see.

“Right, we need to make this quick. You need to keep him in that timeline, Viv. You know the spell.”

Nodding, Vivian summoned the seals of time, which unlike the usual magical seals she and John use that only appear at her hand, this extends back to her elbow which are dials for her to place the moon, sun, and stars to the right time to where they need. “Dick, the cowl!”

Dick tossed Batman's cowl and Vivian caught it with her hand with the magical seals.

“I dloh eeht ni emit!”

“That would do!” John took out the Eye of Chronos and started the incantation. “Non, Vee!”

“Into the light, I command thee.” Vivian summoned her Phoenix form, donning the sacred robes of the Phoenix which blended nicely with her red coat. Her hair glowed like flames, and the magical energy that exhumed from her body she directed to the sphere.

“Hold that time,” Constantine told her and finished the spell.

In a blink of an eye, Constantine and Vivian vanished, leaving only a scorch mark from where the Phoenix stood earlier.

~*~

Vivian felt like throwing up. Opening her eyes, she found herself on the ground with grass as tall that looked like we're so close to the skies. The skies. They were so blue and bright, and not covered in a layer of smog. The air too smelt cleaner with the soil and grass’ aroma dancing with it. Everything around her felt so alive –

“You done daydreaming down there?” John's face appeared before her with an irritated look.

“I wasn't – Yeah, I am,” Vivian got up and looked around. “Where are we?”

“Gotham. 1717. Do you know what's happening at this time?”

“Mostly pilgrim settlements. Some of the pirates from the Caribbean would be seen around these parts. Gotham’s maritime structure made it easy for them to dock to its shores, and with its, still, corrupt government, they get away with almost everything – from selling goods, getting work from aristocats ,” Vivian answered.

“Did I ever tell you how much I didn't miss the history lessons?”

“You asked.”

“So, Gotham is Nasau but in New Jersey,” Constantine lit his cigarette. “Good to know – oi!”

Vivian grabbed his cigarette and lighter and hid it in her pocket. “We need to blend in or else we'll be burned at the stake for witchcraft,” Vivian told him. “Also, we can't walk around wearing this.”

“I am not going to wear those ugly wigs!”

“Who said anything about wigs?” Vivian casted a spell, and immediately their clothes changed from their modern style to one that befits the era. While Costantine wore a similar one to his usual taste but altered to follow the fashion of the early 18th century, Vivian’s attire changed drastically from wearing pants, a blouse, and a coat, she wore a robe à l'anglaise, a gown with wide skirts and had a fitted back that is tailored closely to the body, an open front gown that reveals a petticoat that is coordinated with her maroon dress. The bodice was shaped with the corset, but unlike with earlier designs, this one had a chiffon layer styled as a collar to hide most of her chest area that was seen. Her hair too was styled to follow the era with it pulled up to a coiffure.

“I thought you were supposed to blend in? Not catch attention with those things,” he nodded to the direction of her chest.

“This is the fashion, John. Come on, let's get going. We need to find Bruce,” she conjured an umbrella and opened it over her head. It had the same color as her dress.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“Me? A historian who has studied this all her life walking through history and wearing its clothes? Not at all,” she remarked.

As they continued their walk through the hill, Vivian gave John some reminders of the early 18th century. Their ways, how they talk, how to act, and how not to get killed. And most importantly what story they'll make when someone asks who they were.

“I don't think Bats will be too happy with this story,” John muttered.

“This is the early 18th century, John,” Vivian reminded him. “Women are not allowed to leave without their chaperones, and if they are seen walking about with a man. That man better be her father, her brother, or, better yet, her husband.” She smiled at the person who greeted them as they walked into Miagani Island's town proper.

“Can’t I be a brother then?” John asked.

“No. Because I don't feel comfortable calling you my brother after our history together.”

John snorted. “Don't like the idea of sleeping with your ‘brother’ – yeah, that is weird.”

“See? Now come on,” Vivian took a breath. “I can feel he's close.”

“Mind telling me why I smell shit and ale in the air?”

Vivian sighed. “Miagani Island has the most bustling port of the three main islands of Gotham. It has more loose governance unlike in Founders Island or Bleake Island. The smaller islands are made to be fortresses by the Royal Navy. Old Gotham is where the governor has his mansion. Away from this shithole,” she had a concerned look when she saw a man shitting at the corner and out in the open.

“Civilized. Even before Gotham already has class. And where are the rich people? The Waynes?”

“The mainland. The outskirts of Gotham,” Vivian continued her lesson on the spot.

“Away from the stench.”

“Yes.”

They approached an inn where a drunk just got out or was thrown out. Entering the establishment, which John graciously opened the door for her, not wanting to be the first to see the pig stye of an establishment, Vivian looked around and focused more on the feeling of Bruce's presence that was slowly coming back to her. It brought a sense of relief as his ocean-line aura returned to her like the waves on a beach. Since the night of their first date, Vivian would always describe Bruce's aura that she feels as the waves on that beach they were at. Always there. Always coming back to her whenever he was away.

“Excuse me,” Vivian approached the innkeeper behind the counter of the bar. He only glanced at her with a nasty look. Vivian immediately grabbed John's arm and dragged him to her side and away from the card game he was watching. “My husband and I are looking for someone. A man by the name of Bruce. He is tall, black hair, and big built. We were told that he was staying here.”

“What's he to ye?” The inn keeper asked, his Irish accent thick.

“He's my…” Vivian glanced down at her finger where her rings were.

“My brother,” John spoke. “I know – blonde, right? He's one of Dad's bastards… or maybe I'm the bastard. Can never tell, the old man sees a hole , he just,” John shrugged. “Women kept coming to the door with new babies everyday.”

The innkeeper laughed. “Aye. But as you can see, there are a lot of gents here with that description, lassie. So ye better be specific.”

Taking the risk, Vivian pulled out her little journal and showed the man an image drawn with a ball-point pen. “How about this symbol?”

The innkeeper and those who were listening in flinched at the sight of it. The Bat symbol. This was the right question.

“The Black Pirate,” said the Innkeeper. “Yer brother is the Black Pirate?” He sneered at John.

Or maybe not?

The Innkeeper grabbed Vivian by her face and made her look at him. “Red hair, brown eyes, and the mark behind her ear.” Vivian's birthmark. “And the symbol of the Black Pirate. Yer the Red Witch. Yer both with the Black Pirate.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” Vivian grabbed the man's wrist and removed him from her.

“The Black Pirate has been terrorizing the shits at Miagani Port,” said the Innkeeper. “Destroying cargo, freeing cargo. And whenever he does, he asks each of them about a woman with red hair. They started calling her Red Woman. But we know witchcraft when we see it.”

“Uh, Viv?” John held her close as he saw the others taking out their swords and pistols.

“You summoned the Black Pirate to terrorize our way of living.”

Vivian glared at him. “Way of living? By paying pirates with their stolen goods and slavery? People aren't cargo. I hope the Black Pirate would burn all those ships and all those who have taken those people from their homes to be slaves in this fucking place.”

It was just mere words but in their eyes it was a curse. The Innkeeper took out his pistol and pointed it at Vivian.

“Take back the curse, Witch!” The innkeeper demanded.

“If I was a witch, do you really think that would kill me?” Vivian smirked.

“I said take it back!”

“Kill me before I do and you will be cursed for generations to come,” Vivian shrugged.

“Take her to council! They'll make her take the curse back!” One of the men called out.

“Fine!” The Innkeeper pointed at her shoulder, but just as he fired the man that has been drinking at the corner pushed his gun up to the ceiling. “You!” One look from the man and the Innkeeper gasped. “Black Pirate!”

It was fast. Whatever happened next felt like a blur, a familiar kind of blur as the man wearing the black, hooded, coat slammed the inn keeper's head to the counter, and instantly knocked out the rest of those who held a gun in their direction before Vivian or John could use their magic to do it. Which was a good idea considering their situation now.

“Thank you,” Vivian told the man.

“I told them,” the man spoke. His voice is all too familiar. “I was looking for a woman with red hair… not a Red Witch,” He finally turned to them but his hood prevented them from seeing his face. “I saw you at the clearing, both dressed in different clothes and then magically changed. I saw you walking the streets. I followed you to this inn. You never noticed.”

“That's close enough, mate,” John pressed a hand on the man's chest.

“John, wait,” Vivian told him and approached the man and removed his hood. Those blue eyes, that face. He was a little different with the beard but Vivian knew those eyes and that face anywhere. As if it were instinct, the man pressed his cheek on her palm and nuzzled to her touch. “Bruce,” she whispered.”Bruce…”

Bruce held her wrist in a tight grip.

“Bruce!” Vivian winced at his hold.

“So, you are a witch… and you have been plaguing my dreams. What do you want from me, witch?”

“Bruce!”

“Let go, Bats!” John grabbed his arm but Bruce easily threw him back to the pile of unconscious men in the bar. “Bloody hell… Vee, I think now is a good time to do your fire-cleansing magic of the cosmos.”

With her free hand, Vivian bound Bruce down to the ground, startling him, and had him kneel before her as she placed a thumb on his forehead and her palm on his chest. “I wanted to do this smoothly, but you left me with no choice, my love.”

Bruce's eyes widened as he heard what she called him, and echoes of the woman in his dreams came back. Her voice called his name, and whenever it was just them she would call him, “my love”. For a moment he remembered the name, “Vivian?”

“You remember?” Vivian released the incantation. “Bruce do you –”

The door was kicked down and pouring in were soldiers wearing red coats. “Witch!” They fired their pistols. Bruce was quick on his feet and tackled her down, but before he could get up again, the soldiers came and knocked him out by hitting him with a bayonet at the back of his head.

“Bruce, no!” Vivian cradled his injured head and tried to wake him but she fell to the ground as the bayonet also hit her.

~*~

Vivian woke the second time that day and found herself on the wet and dirty cell, and a rat running beside her. She jumped at the sight of the rat and moved away. She cursed herself, cursed the inn keeper, cursed the red coats, and cursed this fucking century for all the bad things it has. Especially the lack of hygiene.

This was a terrible looking cell, wet from probably the rain and�� she hoped it was just rain, and the rancid smell was from the outside where she could hear a man singing while taking a piss. There were no bars in her cell either, just a wall and an iron door with a window. Did they think witches can't get through iron doors?

“You're finally awake,” the familiar voice spoke.

“Bruce,” she turned to the dark part of the cell and saw him. Bruce. He was sitting at the corner aiding his aching head and the trail of dried blood that came down. “You're hurt.”

He let out a cynical laugh. “So are you.”

“What do you…” She reached for where the pain was and felt the surge as she pressed. Blood. She was bleeding from where they hit her from the back of her head.

“You don't suppose you know any magic to fix that?” He said.

“I… I do, but I still think it would be better to see a doctor.”

“No doctor can help a witch and her companion,” he winced. He was bleeding profusely at the shoulder.

“Let me see,” she approached him, and he backed away. “Please, my love, let me help you.”

“You said you prefer a doctor.”

“Better that I heal that with magic with no medical license than let you die because of an infection. Most deaths in this century are because of infection and lack of hygiene. Please, Bruce… I don't want to lose you again.”

Maybe it was the tears in her eyes or maybe he found sense in her words because Bruce nodded and let Vivian approach him and remove his shirt to see the injury. She cleaned her hands first with magic, then conjured clean water from thin air to clean the wound.

“There's no exit wound,” she muttered.

“You sound like a doctor.”

“I learned all these things from you. From listening you work… this will hurt and you can't make a sound.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to pull the bullet out of your shoulder and mend the wound,” she checked herself for anything for him to bite on and all she found was her leather journal. She liked that journal. “Bite on this.”

“Your book?”

“Just do it, you stubborn man!” Vivian hissed. No words more, Bruce took the small journal and bit down. “Brace yourself,” she said and, “Tuo emoc.”

Bruce grunted as he felt the pain of something moving inside his shoulder. His hold on Vivian tightened but she did not falter, she focused on the bullet until –

“Got it!” Vivian let out a breath of relief as she held the bloody thing in her fingers. “Now the next part. You can remove that now,” she gestured to the journal as she sat before him and cleansed the wound with – as John calls it – fire cleansing magic of the cosmos – letting the flame dance on his flesh and inside. Bruce let out a moan of relief as he felt the familiar warmth of the magic and instinctively leaned down press forehead on Vivian's.

“Does it feel good?” She asked him.

He hummed in response. It was.

She smiled. “While I miss this and would like to hold you close, I need you to sit up so I can do this properly.”

“Right,” Bruce muttered and sat up.

Once she was finished with his shoulder, Vivian moved to his head where she saw the wound. Cursing the soldier who did it, which earned a, “You have a foul mouth for a woman,” from Bruce, which she remarked with a light slap at the top of his head, then went back to work. Once done, Vivian cleaned the blood off him with a turn piece of her peticoat soaked in clean water.

When she was to heal her own injury, Bruce called for her and brought her to where there was more light in their cell. The only light souce they had which was from the small window above.

“Let me help,” he told her as he held her hair away from tthe unjury and rinsed the rag with clean water she conjured to wipe the blood from around the wound and down her neck. When it was time to mend it, he stood by her side as she used her magic, and he saw as the wound slowly closed as a trail of a small embers left a thin scar. He wasn't sure why but Bruce had an urge to lean down and kiss her there. And he did.

“Bruce?” The sound of her voice pulled him from his intrusive thoughts and from her.

“Apologies, I was not myself…” Bruce muttered as he retreated back into the darkness.

Vivian smiled sadly. “You know, you would always kiss me whenever you could. Especially here,” she touched the back of her neck.

“That man you were with, he's not your husband, isn't he?”

“No — god, no!” Vivian laughed. “I would never marry Constantine.”

“But you both…” his voice laced with bitterness.

Vivian caught his tone and approached him. “For a time. Then I left home and I met you.”

“You keep talking as if we are married, as if I know you.”

“You do and because we are married. We had two weddings. One was more private where it was just us with Alfred to officiate. Dick was there with Clark and Diana as witnesses. A private wedding without the masks… then we had another one, one for everyone to celebrate. A much grander one. But I like our little wedding more. It was intimate.”

“Alfred, Dick, Clark, Diana,” Bruce said. “I would get fragments when you said those names, just like whenever I would hear your voice at night… If we are married in this world of yours –”

“Our world, Bruce. At our time.”

“-- Then how did I – how can I not remember any of them? How can I not remember you?”

Vivian frowned. “You were killed. Shot by Darkseid's Omega Beam. We thought it killed you but it just sent you here. I don't know why but it did. And it did this to you. John thinks there's something that Darkseid placed in you to make you do this. If you let me, I can help you remember. I can remove it and you will remember everything. Do you want to remember?”

Bruce got up from the slab he sat on and approached her. “Will it make you happy if I do?”

“Bruce, this isn't about me. It's you –”

“Will it?”

“Why does it matter to you if it does?”

He reached up and caressed her cheek. “Because when you frown like this it worries me. It breaks my heart. I don’t know how or why but I do not want to see this face frown.”

Tears fell from her eyes and she pressed her cheek to his palm. “Yes… yes, it will make me happy to have you back. To have my husband back,” she whispered.

“I'm a lucky man then to have married someone who is willing to go and find me. Even if it means leaving from whence you came from.”

“I will always look for you. Even in death. I will look for you and I will find you.”

“I want to feel what it is you feel now.” He sat on the slab. “Help me remember.”

“I can't… not without John. I might burn you…”

Bruce held her hands and placed them on his temples. “I believe in you, Vivian.”

“Okay,” she whispered and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “Into the light, I command thee.” Her red hair burned bright red, her clothes changed to the sacred robes of the Phoenix, and her magical energy exhumed from her body bringing warmth into their cold cell. Bruce fell silent as he came before the sight of a goddess.

“Hold still,” Vivian said and began the incantation. She spoke in words of Latin and a dead language that Bruce cannot comprehend, but he could feel her magic inside him, passing through his veins, spreading across his body. He could feel her. As her magic came to his brainstem, he felt something be removed. Like a cloud that's been hovering that was slowly lifting and all his memories came back. He remembered all their names, all the adventures, the family he's built, the happiness and the sadness, the anger, the pain, the tragedy of losing his parents, and then the light she brought to his dark hole. The smile and laugh that would brighten his day and vowed to never see frowns. The gaze he hoped would see. The hair he liked to feel between his fingers.

He remembers Vivian. His Vivian. His wife.

As the spell stopped, Bruce pushed her aside and ran to the corner where he vomited something. It was black and alive. Horrified by the sight of it, Vivian put the thing into animated suspension and lifted if off the ground.

“What is this?” She asked.

“A Parasite from Apokalypse. Darkseid placed it in me…” Bruce spoke in his own voice in his own speech pattern. And with familiarity. “Every time I am pushed in time it gets power, building Omega Energy.”

“Bruce?”

Bruce approached her, and cupped her face. “I'm back, Vivian.”

A cry left her lips as she felt him again. She felt him whole, as if his ocean-like aura came back and she could feel the waves of him touching the sand. “I can feel you again,” she whispered.

“I really want to kiss you right now, but I did just vomit out an alien parasite.”

Vivian laughed. “I know… but this will do for now,” she brought him to an embrace. Bruce wrapped her in his arms and buried his face to her neck and just held tight.

“I'm here, my love.”

#batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #dc fanfic #fanfic #dc universe #dc batman #batman fanfiction #justice league dark #john constantine

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months ago

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Knowing You're Close

Pairing: Michael Ormewood x fem!detective!reader

Summary: You work best when you know Ormewood is close, and when he realizes how much his presence affects you, he wants to learn more.

Warnings: fluff, case involves child abduction, Ormewood may be OOC (it's a custom blend of his s1+2 character + how I picture him in the books)

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

A/N: I love him so much but when I write him I get so scared that he's wildly OOC. Plus, all of the gifs of him are from the scene where he (spoiler free, promise) does not look his best, so that's disappointing.

Since you arrived at the station this morning, Ormewood has been tapping his pencil against his desk. You haven’t said anything about it because it’s a reminder to focus on your case. You’re not sure why it’s encouraging you to focus other than the subtle reminder that people have weird little quirks that are only annoying until they’re gone. There may be several families in Atlanta that would give anything to hear their loved ones click a pen or complain about how the dishes were dried one more time if you don't make a break in this case soon.

“Hey, how far is the Coke Museum from the aquarium?” he asks without stopping the rhythmic tap, tap, tap-tap against his desk.

“A mile,” you answer. “About a twenty-minute walk or twelve minutes on Line 26 bus.”

“Thanks.”

You hum and flip the page in your case file. You’re missing something.

“Corruption,” you murmur.

“I told you, the vending machine was broken and taking one protein bar doesn’t make me corrupt,” Ormewood answers.

“What? No, this case, there’s something… I don’t know.”

“I can find it.”

You and Ormewood sigh together before you see GBI Special Agent Will Trent standing before you. Ormewood mouths good luck and then returns to his own work. And the pencil tapping.

“Let me read the files,” Will says.

“Will,” you begin, closing the folder, “you only want to help because you’re bored. Which means you’re going to ask to go out in the field and drag me all over Fulton County, which I am not in the mood for today. So, thanks, but no thanks.”

“Just Fulton County?” Will clarifies, attempting to see the crime scene photos on your desk.

“None of your concern, Agent Trent,” you reply with a smile. “We’ve got it.”

“There’s nothing to do around here!” he complains as he tosses his arms up. “Just pencil tapping!”

Ormewood winks at you as he switches up the rhythm of his tapping. “I didn’t know it was that easy to get out of working with Trent. I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Yeah, you can’t just say no, you have to make it about him,” you explain, closing your eyes as you sit back in your seat.

Ormewood laughs, then rephrases to say, “You tell him it’s not me, it’s you.”

You hum, but then your eyes snap open. “Say that again.”

“It’s not me, it’s you?”

“What am I interrupting?” Faith asks, stopping behind you.

“Didn’t somebody just get cut from the Braves?”

“Uh, excuse me?” Faith tries again.

“In a minute!” Ormewood snaps, leaning toward you. “Yeah. He was training to be a pitcher. Had the potential to be a star pitcher, take us to the world championship.”

“What happened?”

“They had evidence he bought drugs. Swore he wasn’t using, and all of his drug tests came back clean.”

“It’s not me… it's you,” you say under your breath.

“Where’s Will?” Faith inquires.

“Faith,” Ormewood answers, shaking his head as he answers, “no one here cares. We’re not keeping up with your partner.”

“I got it!” you cheer, knocking your chair back as you stand.

“Will. Trent. So-tall, rambles, anybody seen him?” Faith says. “It’s like talking to children.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ormewood offers, trailing behind you as you rush toward the elevators.

Faith watches, tipping her head as she wonders, “Or is it more like puppy dogs?”

“Okay, so Truist Park is at the 75/285 interchange,” you explain. “You can get on either interstate and get anywhere in Atlanta without being noticed. But Dobbins Air Reserve Base is just a few miles up 41 from the stadium.”

“Right,” Ormewood agrees. “But what’s the connection of those locations to the missing girls?”

“These girls were from Atlanta’s nicest neighborhoods. Areas where our city officials sit on the HOA board, or whatever rich people do in fancy neighborhoods. Take a few residents, get the attention of all of the powerful people in the city…”

You trail off, and Ormewood connects, “You get leverage to get what you want.”

“Right, at least in criminal logic. So, this pitcher gets cut on a technicality and decides to show Atlanta what they’re losing, maybe try to blackmail his way back onto the team.”

“Or?”

“Or someone else is trying to get him back on the team. He’s got a cousin, according to his Braves profile, that works at Robbins. The proximity makes me think he’s holding these girls on the base. Granted, I could be way off, and it has nothing to do with a baseball team.”

“Worth a shot. I’ll find your guy, and you look for a hiding place fit for teenage girls?”

“Sounds good.” You look over the top of the car as you climb out and say, “Be careful.”

“You too.”

You answer your phone as you follow a uniformed MP officer through the base to check the lowest security areas of the base.

“I found someone who wants to talk to you,” Ormewood says.

“No, I don’t!” a man argues.

“I don’t believe anyone, ever, on principle. But this is your case, so I’ll hold him here until you’re ready.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right over.”

After the MP officer agrees to finish the search and call your watch commander if he finds anything, you walk across the base and find Ormewood with one arm stretched out and his hand pressed lazily against your suspect.

“Trevor?” you ask the man. “I’m a detective with the APD. I have a few questions for you.”

“I want a lawyer,” he answers.

Ormewood scoffs, and you shake your head at him.

“Are you sure you can’t just answer a couple quick questions?” you ask. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“There are five missing girls out there,” Ormewood seethes, wrapping Trevor’s shirt around his hand. “Think very carefully about how you answer.”

“Lawyer!”

Ormewood steps closer to the man, but you wrap your hand around his wrist and shake your head.

“Alright. Trevor, I’m placing you under arrest for reasonable suspicion of abduction,” you begin, placing handcuffs on him. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, which you’ve already exercised, so we can’t ask you any more questions.”

“We just think about how guilty that makes you look,” Ormewood adds as he pushes your suspect into the backseat of the car.

“Officers!” the MP officer yells behind you. “I found something!”

“No, he didn’t!” Trevor yells against the window. “You didn’t find anything, man! Say psych!”

“Psych is not admissible in court,” you point out. “Lead the way, officer.”

“Why are you in my chair?” you ask as you return to your desk after receiving a full confession and recovering all of the abducted girls.

“I decided to offer my services anyway,” Will explains. “You seemed busy. The missing girls are-“

“Home,” Ormewood finishes. “We found them two-and-a-half hours ago.”

“How?” Will questions, clearly surprised by the outcome.

“Not all cases are solved on pure luck or weirdly timed flashbacks, Trent.”

“The whole thing screamed leverage,” you explain with a shrug. “I just had to find someone who needed the rich and powerful on his side. Someone desperate enough to stage numerous abductions to do it.”

“Well, now there really is nothing to do here. Have either of you seen Faith?”

Will stands from your seat as Ormewood suggests, “Maybe try calling each other.”

“Thanks for all of your help today,” you tell Ormewood once you’re alone again. He nods, and you ask, “Why’d you get rough with Trevor?”

“If it was my daughter, I’d want to know exactly where she was as soon as possible. He was going to keep stalling, and a public defender would have loved using his situation to delay until it was too late to save them.”

“Can you tap your pencil again?”

“What?” Ormewood asks, shock and confusion evident in the single syllable.

“It… I like knowing that you’re here, close, okay.”

Ormewood nods slowly, then begins tapping his eraser against his desk. You shift your focus to the paperwork for the case, but Ormewood watches you. Something about his presence seems to help you, provide a comfort that he hadn’t even noticed. More surprising, he thinks, is that he likes knowing how his presence makes you feel.

“Is it just my tapping?” he asks. He seems as surprised to hear the question as you.

“If it is?” you counter. “Will you move to a different desk?”

“I was thinking we find out if sharing a table only works at the station.”

“Are you asking me out?” you clarify.

“I didn’t anticipate the interrogation it would take to get an answer, but yes.”

You smile and tap your pen against your hand with Ormewood’s beat as you answer, “I’d love to.”

“I have got to stop coming down here with questions,” Faith announces as she abandons her goal and returns the way she came.

#michael ormewood x reader #michael ormewood #will trent #will trent abc #hanna writes✯#fem!reader

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bigassheart · 4 months ago

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Let's talk TUA Season 4. (and obviously, spoilers ahead)

I actually didn't hate the season as much as other fans. Yeah, it definitely could have been better, but it also had a lot of very enjoyable parts to it. Maybe I would feel differently if I had watched all 4 seasons closer together. The length of time the show was spread out over did make me feel slightly less invested in the characters, so I think I wasn't as upset as others by the not so happy ending. All-in-all, I didn't think the season was bad. It was just incredibly mediocre, which is admittedly disappointing for a show that started as strongly as TUA did.

So let's talk about it.

I'm going to start with the good.

I liked that we dove into the mystery of Ben's death in the final season. That was the inciting incident that broke most of the family apart in the beginning (save for five, who was of course already gone) and I like that we circled back around to it in the end.

The baby shark bit killed me every time they used it. Peak Umbrella Academy. Just solid.

I liked the opening premise for the season being that everyone was trying to adapt to a normal life and doing so very poorly.

Reggie's wife being the one behind the destruction of the new universe was a good twist. The fact that she was doing it as atonement for their actions on their home world felt earned and I like that Reggie actually accepted not just her death, but his own in the end.

Now, let's move onto the stuff that was kind of a mixed bag. These are things that actually could have been really good, but I don't think the execution was there.

The expanded powers was something I liked in theory, but I think the way they handled it was a bit confusing. This is one of the places I think the show would have benefited from a full 10 episode season. The new powers come in and they just... aren't explained at all. And you can kind of piece it together on your own that this is because of either consuming more of the marigold or getting their powers back in a different way, but the characters don't really react to this in any way other than initial confusion, followed by very quickly just understanding how to use their new powers. That story needed more time to cook.

In every season, Klaus goes off on his own for a little side-story, and it's one of my favorite parts of every season. BUT, the reason those stories work is because we get good character growth for Klaus and because he gets some information that helps further the plot. This side-story added nothing to the plot, which was really noticeable in such a short season. They did give him a little character growth, but it felt kind of shallow and forced. I think bringing Dave back in this moment (especially after Klaus got his dog tags back in this universe), learning a new power, or talking to god again, or even just being kidnapped by someone more relevant to the plot, would have justified this story and made it so much better than what we got.

I actually don't hate the idea of killing off all the main characters at the end of the story. I also think the noble sacrifice plot works really well for these characters and for this universe. What I didn't like was the universe re-set to before they existed. It just left me wondering what the point of the show was. We've been following around this family and by the end of the show, they don't exist and they never existed and no one knows about them. The point of their story was for the story not to exist. It's just unsatisfying. Even if they were the threat to the universe (which actually is consistent with every moment of the show since season 1) and destined to destroy the universe every single time they tried to save it, and even if they had to die or remove themselves from the universe in some other way, I think you can accomplish that in ways other than making them never exist that actually feel more meaningful.

And for the bad...

Elephant in the room - Five and Lila. The romance was just completely unnecessary. Added nothing to the plot. Didn't feel believable for those characters. Was not fun to watch because we spent the whole episode thinking about how shitty it was to do that to Diego. And also just couldn't get over the ick factor of seeing someone in their mid-30's kissing an 18 year old. It just felt like drama that was added for the sake of drama, but was never fully resolved and didn't need to be there in order to have Five and Lila's subway adventure be an impactful mini-plot. There were so many other interesting things they could have explored in that side-adventure, and instead they went with the most cliche plot devise possible and it was just not good.

I don't think they ever figured out what to do with Luther after season 2. He just became this silly guy who's always around, but doesn't seem to have much of a purpose. Occasionally they find ways to make him feel a little like season 1 Luther again, but I feel like his character growth just completely stopped 2 seasons ago, and it's a real shame. Don't get me wrong. I didn't love season 1 Luther, but it felt like there was at least a reason for him to be there. Luther got lost a bit in season 3, but I feel like they really could have brought back his purpose and his drive in the final season if they had given him just a little bit more attention.

As I mentioned earlier, I love the idea of the final season revolving around Ben's death. That being said, Jennifer just didn't work for me. I didn't understand why Ben specifically was drawn to Jennifer. It seems like any of the kids could have been drawn to her, but it was just Ben and no one else. Unless I completely missed it, there is absolutely no explanation for this. What's worse is that they could have actually fixed my mixed bag complaint #3 by fixing this issue. If the multiple timelines were created because of Ben's initial contact with Jennifer when they were kids, it explains why it's now just Ben who's drawn to her. It also explains why Sparrow Ben, who has never met Jennifer, is having visions of her and why he can't seem to stay away. (but also, why doesn't he recognize her when he was having these visions and drawing her constantly last season?) This also allows us to have an end point for the season re-set that leaves the family intact and allows them to succeed in their goal of saving the family. What if they did their re-set and everyone except Five is affected because of his wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey stuff, but now the season ends with him showing up and bringing the grown family back together to explain this wild timeline none of them now remember. I know that's still not an ending that would make everybody happy, but it would at least feel more meaningful than the one we got.

So those are my season 4 thoughts. I was so happy we were getting a final season and I really wished we could have ended it on a better note, but I'll still be happy for what we did get from Umbrella Academy - Some memorable characters, a family that loved each other despite all the chaos, a lot of laughs, a lot of great action, and excellent music.

It's been fun experiencing all of this with the fandom and I'm excited to see all the inevitable fanfics, trying to give season 4 a better go of it.

#the umbrella academy #tua s4 #tua s4 spoilers #tua #tua spoilers #the umbrella academy season 4 #the umbrella academy season 4 spoilers

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maple-writes · 1 year ago

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My attempt to introduce Bristlecone:

Details subject to change without notice as I think of better ideas lol

Tagging @concealeddarkness13 since they said they were curious!

Text version under the cut:

Slide one: Bristlecone!

I am trying yet again to edit this story

Slide two: ... Bristlecone?

An older wip (finished last draft back in 2018)

Not sure if I’ll keep the title Bristlecone but I don’t have any better ideas either

I’m finally getting back to it (hopefully)

It’s editing/revising time now

Setting – fantasy with wild west inspiration (simply because I thought it would be neat)

Kind of a murder mystery, kind of a general mystery, kind of an adventure

Which means one of these characters could be the culprit… Or not… It’s a mystery…

Slide three: Viper (one of the POV characters)

That’s not her real name

Deputy of the Aristata and unofficially Winter’s girlfriend (They act as more than just working partners but neither has said anything to each other to acknowledge this)

Observant but tends to ignore her gut feelings

Loves horses, and is in charge of training them

Is unable to speak to people she doesn't know, and then can only manage a whisper

Has had a rough decade or so before joining the Aristata to say the least

Slide four: Honey Davis (the other POV character)

That’s not his real name

Was training to take Cecil’s place as a Mortician Mage until recent events stopped that

Newly recruited as a mercenary to the Aristata

He has some… Secrets (some of which he himself doesn’t even know)

Orphaned as a child when his parents were executed (for good reason)

Something off about him. Eyes shine at night like a cat.

Kind, gentle, and would have made a very good Mortician Mage

Slide five: Winter Balfouriana

This is her real name!

Leader and founder of the Aristata

Viper’s girlfriend

Last surviving member of fairly powerful/noble family of demon slayers

Prior to the “disaster” which killed her family, her mother had trained her in enchanted metalsmithing

Tenacious and strategic, and genuinely cares for her mercenaries

Respectful and fair

Slide six: Stark Jiang

Sees the best in people and tends to treat people as friends unless proven otherwise

Tbh to the point where it’s easy to forget he’s just as deadly as Viper

The first person to join Winter as a mercenary, before their little group even had a name

Pretty hard to rattle him and most of the time he’s just vibing

Very reliable and very trustworthy

Slide seven: Other people

Cecil Davis – Wayton’s Mortician Mage and the man who took in Honey after he was orphaned

Taiga – Cecil’s weird dog

Lady Alabaster – Countess of Vindale. She hired the Aristata to settle a conflict with a neighbouring Lord

Ren Alabaster – Lady Alabaster’s son (he’s gone missing)

Annie and Theo – The other two members of the Aristata

Slide eight: Stuff that's going on

Basically, Lady Alabaster’s son goes missing in the middle of the night

That same night Winter finds Honey alone in desert

The Aristata agree to stay under Lady Alabaster’s employment to try and find her son

So what happened to Ren Alabaster?

Is he even still alive?

What’s the deal with this Honey kid?

Could it perhaps be an issue that Viper doesn’t like to accept what she knows to be true and instead deny to avoid recognizing uncomfortable truths?

Who knows, could be anything!

Slide nine: ~worldbuilding~

It’s fantasy loosely based on wild west aesthetic

There are demons, there are gods and there are fae (technically all three are the same thing but it’s complicated)

Most of the story comes out of a place called Vindale, governed by Lady Alabaster

#wip intro #bristlecone #viper (character)#honey (character)#Winter (character)#stark (character)#trying to add character to the tags as to not get mixed up with actual snake posts or honey etc...

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laura-the-yellow-cat · 1 year ago

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MSA X Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island Chapter 20: The rest of the gang is discovered that police have not found the cases, Gardeners are Detectives and undercover investigating the island/They are leaving the island with their own luggages and packages, rest of the gang with their own pets are picked peppers to a basket of peppers and getting back to ferry/Dogs are noticed that Cats and Kitsunes in Dogs forms have their own owners have died and homeless and become loved adopted family

Daphne: I can't believe all this. And without our videotape no one else will, either. I've got nothing for my show.

Me (Laura): Yeah, and the police will never believe this story either

Beau: Don't be so sure. I'm Detective Beau Neville

Ralph: and I'm Detective Ralph, We been working undercover investigating the island disappearances

Velma: Jinkies! So that's why you were digging around

Starla: Beau, um, Detective Neville have you ever been on TV?

Beau picks up Simone's necklace. Daphne bends her knees down to offer Beau a resolution a full interview story for Daphne's season premiere episode. Ralph picks up Icy's necklace. Starla tells him that story.

After having a very long night being chased by zombies and only got their lifeforces drained by evil were-cats and were-kitsunes, they spent the night at the house until early morning. Vera has developed an idea of what to do about the house and the pepper fields--convincing Lewinn to open a business by making Moonscar Island Pepper hot sauce and selling to the New Orleans local.

Landon loves the business idea and decides to immediately start on the project, since he is an ultimate food-lover, especially if it's spicy food. But first, he's got a big performance at the Mardi Gras Parade, so he ask them to take him down there before the day's out.

Daphne: You know, Fred, with all the zombies and cat creatures gone, this is a pretty romantic spot

Fred: Yeah, The bayou casts a spell all its own, and no matter how hard you try to solve its mysteries it always keeps something hidden

Marco: Starla, will you be my wife?

Starla: My answer is "Yes" **kisses Marco**

Mystery Gangs will be driving the two ferries back to New Orleans and Vera awaits the others to get on aboard. While she's waiting, she sees Fred and Daphne standing side to side watching the sunrise. Beau was talking Velma into becoming a writer for detective stories and coincidence - Velma owns a mystery book store. Ralph talking to Marco becomes Mystery Bookstore.

Velma: Aw, that was beautiful, Detective Neville. There's a bit of a poet in you

Beau: **chuckles** I don't know about that, ma'am. But I would like to write detective stories someday

Velma: Jinkies! I've always been crazy about a good detective story, that is.

Beau: I even own my own mystery bookstore

Velma: No kidding

Trixie: Muffet, I made something for u

Muffet: Hm?

Trixie: I made this ragdoll and i call her "Mabel"

Muffet: **gasp, was happy and holds Mabel the Ragdoll** Thanks, Grandma

Claude: **cute bark**

Aaron drives the van aboard the ferry and the others are waiting for the Mystery Vans to pull up. While they were waiting, Vicki started the fun.

Everyone has a batch of beignets when they reach New Orleans.

Shaggy drives the Mystery Van into the ferry. Velma checks inside and didn't see Scooby.

Velma: Where’s Scooby?

Shaggy: He's picking a pack of peppers, for the road. Hurry up, Scoob! We're pulling out!

Scooby: Rokay!

Scooby shouted back as he picks out his last pepper. Bart goes back to the captain's deck and starts driving the ferry back to New Orleans. Scooby makes an attempts to jump to the ferry when his leg got caught. He struggles to pull it off and then he flies up in the air, causing Snakebite Scruggs to lose his chance of finally catching Big Mona.

Scooby safely lands on deck and Shaggy gives him a sandwich. Scooby gives a generous amount of peppers inside his sandwich. Before he got to enjoy it, he became surrounded by Simone's cats and Icy's kitsunes in dogs, who are now homeless and will later be adopted into loving families. This freaks Scooby out.

**they are going to the Ferries boat ship, with cats and kitsunes**

Scooby: Rhaggy! Rats and Kitsunes! Yikes!

----

After the credits, Scooby rips the black screen. He puts milk in the bowl of milk for the two cats are drink. Jaxson puts dog foods in bowls for the two kitsunes in dogs are eat. Scooby and Jaxson are happy.

**The End**

My MSA OCS and My New MSA OCS belongs to Me

Her MSA OCS and Her New MSA OCS belongs to @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

Scooby Doo belongs to Cartoon Networks and Warner Bros

for @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

#msa x scooby doo #msa x scooby doo au #her msa ocs #her new msa ocs #my new msa ocs #my msa ocs #msa au crossover #scooby doo

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mlcheely · 2 years ago

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It's Just A Game... EPILOGUE. ☆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 20TH, ████. LOCATION : ┃ERICA’S HOUSE. TIME : ┃7:34 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

Suddenly, warm rushing water starts raining down on her body and she opens her eyes. She looks up to face a shower head, then to the contents of the shower — is she…? No, that can’t be, but no matter what excuse she tries to tell herself she can’t deny that this is her shower. She sticks her head out from behind the shower curtain; this is her bathroom, too. Brows furrow in confusion. What’s going on? Is she back home? It’s…It’s almost like she never left…

Erica decides to finish her shower, quickly bathing and washing her hair before turning off the water. She steps out and grabs a towel. As she dries herself, she finds it so strange to be back in her bathroom in her room — but she doesn’t care — she’s just happy to be back. She finishes drying and hangs up the towel, then pulls the clothes she had laid out prior to the shower from the counter. After she pulls her t-shirt over her head and completes her task of getting dressed, she grabs the door handle and slowly opens it.

Her family is going about their evening routine; her brothers are on their gaming systems, her stepmother is reading, and her father is scrolling through news on his phone. A new wave of confusion washes over Erica. Did they not notice her absence? Was she really gone all that time? Did time not affect her? Was any of it real? She doesn't know and she doesn’t care, either — she’s just happy to see them again. She walks over to her dad and gives him a big hug; one he doesn’t question. He’s always enjoyed her hugs just as much as she’s always enjoyed his. She moves to her mom and embraces her — which prompts a laugh from her.

“What’s that for?”

“I don’t think I’ve hugged you today.” Erica smiles, her heart full as she hears her mom’s laughter. She hugs her oldest kid brother and he gladly accepts, never questioning the affection like her dad — only embracing it. Lastly, she gives her other kid brother a fist bump; he was never much of a hugger. Her dog, Charles, jumps at her feet and she turns to him, and he spins in excitement. “Hey, handsome!” She laughs, leaning down and petting him. He leans into her touch before running off to find a toy to play with. The rest of the small dogs follow suit, chasing one another and playing.

As soon as she’s finished greeting her family, she enters her bedroom. Excitement rushes through her as she sees the room; it’s the same as she left it, but something sits on top of her bed that wasn’t there before. It’s a large box, and there’s an envelope on top of it. The envelope is the same as the one that preceded it — her name is the only writing on it. The handwriting is the same, too.

She purses her lips, turning and closing the door behind her before opening the envelope.

⋆

Dear Miss Slater,

You were the only one of our candidates to make it out of our “RESIDENT EVIL” project alive!

As your reward, you are gifted with a remote control that allows you to travel to and from this place whenever you please.

RULES :

Do not expect to arrive on the same date and time for each trip; it is randomized.

Remember that if you leave at any point, any events that will or already have transpired during your stay will never have happened.

Only you will retain the experience and knowledge of events.

The box we provided contains all the essentials you will need in order to properly navigate through Raccoon City and beyond its city limits. We trust you will make correct use of them.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

⋆

“‘RESIDENT EVIL’ project?”

So all of that actually happened? All of it was real?

She stares at the letter for a long time, trying to process what it’s saying. She was taken from everything she knew, was kidnapped and experimented on for some project; and her reward is that she’s allowed to return to that hellhole?

She glances at the large box and bites the inside of her cheek. ‘This all sounds like bullshit,’ She thinks. ‘But I’m curious.’

Erica finds a pair of scissors to open the box, pulling back its flaps to reveal large bands of cash in different currencies, a debit card with seemingly no expiration date, several forms of identification, permits for weaponry -- everything she would need to start a new life in Raccoon City. To her surprise, the binders she stole consisting of her and Umbrella’s experimental records are at the bottom of the box. She starts to wonder why they’re there, but her attention is brought to a remote with two buttons. One button is labeled ‘RC,’ assumed to be ‘Raccoon City,’ while the other is labeled ‘H.’ Erica assumes it’s supposed to stand for ‘Home.’

Hm .

So she can return to Raccoon City…That means she can return to Chris and Jill, and —...they won’t remember her. None of them will .

Her thumb slowly rubs across the ‘RC’ labeled button as a frown pulls at her lips. A thought crosses her mind, but she quickly shuts it down and puts the remote back in the box. She tosses the envelope into the box as well before closing it and sealing it back up. Then, she picks it up and places it on the floor, sliding it underneath her bed with a sigh. ‘Maybe one day…but not today.’ She thinks, exiting her room to join her family in the living room for a movie; it’s been a while since they’ve watched one together.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

TO BE CONTINUED…?

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #isekai #erica slater (oc)#it actually is being continued dont worry #:3

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thewirewitch · 8 months ago

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One of those days where I'm just kinda done with my family owning a dog. She makes me tired in an emotional way and I know she doesn't mean to, it's just kinda frustrating...

(rant under the cut. Tw for animal death)

I've had a fear of dogs since I was really young, probably around 4-5 years old, since I went to a relative's house and her dog (who was fully grown, but she said he was a "puppy") jumped up on me and scratched my face (my mom said I was also knocked over, but I don't remember the moment of impact, just him running at me and the aftermath). I used to love dogs before that.

Years later, when I was around 9, my mom decided to get a dog. A miniature shar-pei, to be specific. Neither she nor my dad did any research on them before they bought one (current dog, her name's Winks). They didn't know they are usually aggressive and protective.

I tried to get over my fear of dogs when we got her. At first I was scared, but later on I tried petting her multiple times, but she'd always nip at me.

Then as she got older, and the years went on, she would still try to bite me for certain things. If I handed something to a parent, or they handed something to me, she'd always try to bite my arm. So I stopped directly handing things to my parents, or receiving things from them unless I knew she couldn't get to me.

One ordinary day I had gone downstairs and she went over to me and bit my foot. I locked myself in the bathroom, which was right next to the stairs. She had drawn some blood. I stayed in there for a while.

Another time, it was late at night and my mom was on the couch. I went over to sit beside her, but Winks jumped up on the couch before I could sit down and she bit my thigh. It hurt and bled for several days after that. Not a lot of blood, though. She also used to get kind of alert when I'd go over to my parents before that. I don't stand very close to them when they're seated anymore, even if they want to show me something on a computer.

A few years ago Winks began to follow me really close and growl/squeak if I went upstairs later in the day. I found out she wouldn't do that much if I was carrying something (like a large cup of water, a plate/bowl of food, laundry basket, etc.) so whenever I go downstairs, I always bring something up with me.

More recently I had started to wear shorts. One night when I was going to head upstairs, Winks silently went over to me, even when I wasn't close to either parents, and bit my ankle. Thankfully she didn't bite very hard, but my mom yelled at her when she did, so, she might have bit harder if my mom didn't notice. I don't wear shorts after 6pm downstairs anymore. I always put on a pair of long pants if I "need" too.

Despite all this, despite her singling me out to be super vigilant about, she also paces around downstairs some nights and squeaks because she wants me to go downstairs. Despite the fact my brother had gone on multiple day-long trips away from home, the one time I went on a 4-day school trip to DC she didn't eat anything, and now usually only eats at night when I'm around (which is why she squeaks). I don't get it. If I leave to go with a friend, she squeaks like she would if one of my parents left, but she doesn't react at all if my brother leaves the house.

What got me to type all this is because today she ended up finding a nest of baby bunnies under our back porch. Even though my dad put a fence up around the gaps under the porch, she still went under there and ate as many of them as she could. And it upsets me.

But I can't be mad at her for it. Because that's just her nature. I can't be mad at her about anything she did to me or to anyone or anything else because that's just what her nature is. I haven't even brought up a lot of the stuff she's done that has made me feel some negative way, just the major ones I remember right now.

But I am mad. I'm not mad at her. I'm mad at my parents.

I could say it was my fault she got those bunnies because I didn't put the bamboo stake in the right place when I looked at the fence. I could say it's my dad's fault for not putting the fence up in an effective way to begin with. I could say it's Winks's fault, but it's just her nature.

Or I could say...it's both my parents' fault for even getting a dog to begin with. Their kid, their little girl, me, who was, and still is, terrified of dogs, pleading with them not to get one. I told them not to do it. They knew I was scared of dogs. But they didn't listen. And neither of them did research on shar-pei temperament. And now look what we're strapped with.

I used to wear shoes all the time since I didn't want Winks to hurt my feet in some way. I don't hug my parents as much as I used to because I'm scared Winks will come after me if I did. My family can't go on day-long trips because Winks stresses out when we're not home. We once came home to our front doorframe all chewed-up on one side. We can't visit family members without bringing her with us. She's chewed up the doorframe of one of my uncles' guest room door because she was left in there alone. My uncles don't want us bringing her over because she's not socialized. So we don't visit out extended family much anymore unless one of us stays behind (usually me and my brother). One of our neighbors has to make sure their kids don't get close to our fence or else Winks would bark at them and scare them. My mom had to put a tarp around our fence so Winks can't bite any hands that may slip between the boards. My parents and brother have had to throw multiple dead animals out of our backyard because Winks would hunt them. My dad once had to beat a small racoon with a wooden board because Winks had picked a fight with it. We can't leave our trashcans on the floor or leave me and my brother's bathroom door open without something in front of it because she's eat out of the trashcans and she'd lick things in the bathroom she really shouldn't. I've had an argument with my brother over this.

I'm just tired, man. And I know whenever Winks passes, I'll be sad. Despite EVEREYTHING, I'm going to be sad. Whether it be because my parents will be sad, or guilt that I didn't try harder to bond with her, I know I'm going to cry. There have been a few times where I thought she was dead and it made me feel dread. Despite it all I still have some semblance of care for her. So even when she does pass, there won't be a sense of relief. I won't be able to go "it's over" and just move on.

I still talk to her. I still give her ice cubes and let her outside if she wants to go out. I still care about her, and sometimes I wish I didn't, and sometimes I wish I cared more.

And all this just makes me feel emotionally exhausted.

If I could go back in time at points throughout my life and change things, one of the things I would do is make sure my parents didn't get her. I'd tell them all the trouble we'd go through, and that they should get any other kind of dog than a shar-pei. Tell my mom that the cuteness isn't worth it, and to find another kind of dog she thinks is cute, and that's actually sociable. Maybe we could have gone on more trips. Maybe our family could be a little closer. Maybe my anxiety towards animals wouldn't be so bad.

But that's not what happened. And now my parents learned from their mistake, and brought the rest of us with them.

#my stuff #rambling #She's going to be 12 this year btw #Over half my life now we've had her

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greywoodrpg · 1 year ago

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𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖

he was born twenty-seven years ago, he is a werewolf who lives in wolf crossing as a firefighter, and is in the pack. he looks an awful lot like oliver stark.

“Just once, I really want someone to choose me.”

tw: dysfunctional family, attack

Theo was almost born to help. He loved people and loved to fix situations. It made him feel important even when he was younger. He noticed his mom seemed happier whenever he made drawings about dad and so he kept doing them until he became a bit too old for it to be sweet anymore. He missed him a lot, even if his older siblings liked to remind him that he didn't even know him. It became super obvious to him that they were right when he finally came back home, but he never stopped loving him. He just tried to focus on other things. He made sure to have good grades and a good behavior, he wanted his mom to be proud of him and to make her life easier. Then his dad left and he started getting attached to his new stepdad. He was nice enough, but Theo just wanted to have a dad like the rest of the kids his age. He was devastated when he lost both of them and he was lucky to have his big brother to raise him or he would've had nobody. He made many good friends in high school and often fell in love with someone new, hoping he could meet that special someone who would prioritize him, but this person certainly didn't come then. They were all a bit too immature for him. When he graduated, he didn't know what he wanted to do, he just knew he wanted to help people. He first started working for a little organization that was meant to help homeless people and then decided to be a firefighter. He was loved by his team immediately and felt like he found a second family. He met his wife after saving her and her dog from a fire and they got married only a year following their first date. He finally met someone who actually loved him (or so he thought) and he certainly couldnt let her go. His life was exciting, he had friends that he probably would keep forever, a wife who he loved more than anyone. He almost wasn't feeling the emptiness of not having his parents with him anymore. That was all until he came back from the restaurant one night with his wife. They decided to walk since it wasn't too cold, but it was a terrible idea because they got attacked by what he thought was a simple wolf. Theo tried to be the hero, but got pushed against a tree and only woke up the next morning in the hospital with scratches and his wife gone. She couldn't accept what he was about to become and he didn't know if he could either. Months later, he was still trying to adapt to his new life when his wife called. She asked him to join her, she said they could try again, that maybe she could accept him if it was away from everything else. She always said she wanted them to move, he never said yes until now. He was desperate, he didn’t want to be alone and so he quit his job and started new somewhere else. They made it for about 4 months before she asked for a divorce.

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

None.

penned by... em

#supernatural rp #oc rp #town rp #horror rp #mature rp #literate rp #oliver stark fc #werewolf #dysfunctional family tw #attack tw #taken

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dailychapel · 2 years ago

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Mark 7:1–37 NLT - 1 One day some Pharisees and teachers of religious law arrived from Jerusalem to see Jesus. 2 They noticed that some of his disciples failed to follow the Jewish ritual of hand washing before eating. 3 (The Jews, especially the Pharisees, do not eat until they have poured water over their cupped hands, as required by their ancient traditions. 4 Similarly, they don't eat anything from the market until they immerse their hands in water. This is but one of many traditions they have clung to--such as their ceremonial washing of cups, pitchers, and kettles.) 5 So the Pharisees and teachers of religious law asked him, "Why don't your disciples follow our age-old tradition? They eat without first performing the hand-washing ceremony." 6 Jesus replied, "You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you, for he wrote, 'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. 7 Their worship is a farce, for they teach man-made ideas as commands from God.' 8 For you ignore God's law and substitute your own tradition." 9 Then he said, "You skillfully sidestep God's law in order to hold on to your own tradition. 10 For instance, Moses gave you this law from God: 'Honor your father and mother,' and 'Anyone who speaks disrespectfully of father or mother must be put to death.' 11 But you say it is all right for people to say to their parents, 'Sorry, I can't help you. For I have vowed to give to God what I would have given to you.' 12 In this way, you let them disregard their needy parents. 13 And so you cancel the word of God in order to hand down your own tradition. And this is only one example among many others." 14 Then Jesus called to the crowd to come and hear. "All of you listen," he said, "and try to understand. 15 It's not what goes into your body that defiles you; you are defiled by what comes from your heart." 16 17 Then Jesus went into a house to get away from the crowd, and his disciples asked him what he meant by the parable he had just used. 18 "Don't you understand either?" he asked. "Can't you see that the food you put into your body cannot defile you? 19 Food doesn't go into your heart, but only passes through the stomach and then goes into the sewer." (By saying this, he declared that every kind of food is acceptable in God's eyes.) 20 And then he added, "It is what comes from inside that defiles you. 21 For from within, out of a person's heart, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, wickedness, deceit, lustful desires, envy, slander, pride, and foolishness. 23 All these vile things come from within; they are what defile you." 24 Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre. He didn't want anyone to know which house he was staying in, but he couldn't keep it a secret. 25 Right away a woman who had heard about him came and fell at his feet. Her little girl was possessed by an evil spirit, 26 and she begged him to cast out the demon from her daughter. Since she was a Gentile, born in Syrian Phoenicia, 27 Jesus told her, "First I should feed the children--my own family, the Jews. It isn't right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs." 28 She replied, "That's true, Lord, but even the dogs under the table are allowed to eat the scraps from the children's plates." 29 "Good answer!" he said. "Now go home, for the demon has left your daughter." 30 And when she arrived home, she found her little girl lying quietly in bed, and the demon was gone. 31 Jesus left Tyre and went up to Sidon before going back to the Sea of Galilee and the region of the Ten Towns. 32 A deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to him, and the people begged Jesus to lay his hands on the man to heal him. 33 Jesus led him away from the crowd so they could be alone. He put his fingers into the man's ears. Then, spitting on his own fingers, he touched the man's tongue. 34 Looking up to heaven, he sighed and said, ["Ephphatha,"] which means, "Be opened!" 35 Instantly the man could hear perfectly, and his tongue was freed so he could speak plainly! 36 Jesus told the crowd not to tell anyone, but the more he told them not to, the more they spread the news. 37 They were completely amazed and said again and again, "Everything he does is wonderful. He even makes the deaf to hear and gives speech to those who cannot speak." - 1 One day some Pharisees and teachers of religious law arrived from Jerusalem to see Jesus. 2 They noticed that some of his disciples failed to follow the Jewish ritual of hand washing before eating. 3 (The Jews, especially the Pharisees, do not eat until they have poured water over their cupped hands, as required by their ancient traditions. 4 Similarly, they don't eat anything from the market until they immerse their hands in water. This is but one of many traditions they have clung to--such as their ceremonial washing of cups, pitchers, and kettles.) 5 So the Pharisees and teachers of religious law asked him, "Why don't your disciples follow our age-old tradition? They eat without first performing the hand-washing ceremony." 6 Jesus replied, "You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you, for he wrote, 'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. 7 Their worship is a farce, for they teach man-made ideas as commands from God.' 8 For you ignore God's law and substitute your own tradition." 9 Then he said, "You skillfully sidestep God's law in order to hold on to your own tradition. 10 For instance, Moses gave you this law from God: 'Honor your father and mother,' and 'Anyone who speaks disrespectfully of father or mother must be put to death.' 11 But you say it is all right for people to say to their parents, 'Sorry, I can't help you. For I have vowed to give to God what I would have given to you.' 12 In this way, you let them disregard their needy parents. 13 And so you cancel the word of God in order to hand down your own tradition. And this is only one example among many others." 14 Then Jesus called to the crowd to come and hear. "All of you listen," he said, "and try to understand. 15 It's not what goes into your body that defiles you; you are defiled by what comes from your heart." 16 17 Then Jesus went into a house to get away from the crowd, and his disciples asked him what he meant by the parable he had just used. 18 "Don't you understand either?" he asked. "Can't you see that the food you put into your body cannot defile you? 19 Food doesn't go into your heart, but only passes through the stomach and then goes into the sewer." (By saying this, he declared that every kind of food is acceptable in God's eyes.) 20 And then he added, "It is what comes from inside that defiles you. 21 For from within, out of a person's heart, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, wickedness, deceit, lustful desires, envy, slander, pride, and foolishness. 23 All these vile things come from within; they are what defile you." 24 Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre. He didn't want anyone to know which house he was staying in, but he couldn't keep it a secret. 25 Right away a woman who had heard about him came and fell at his feet. Her little girl was possessed by an evil spirit, 26 and she begged him to cast out the demon from her daughter. Since she was a Gentile, born in Syrian Phoenicia, 27 Jesus told her, "First I should feed the children--my own family, the Jews. It isn't right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs." 28 She replied, "That's true, Lord, but even the dogs under the table are allowed to eat the scraps from the children's plates." 29 "Good answer!" he said. "Now go home, for the demon has left your daughter." 30 And when she arrived home, she found her little girl lying quietly in bed, and the demon was gone. 31 Jesus left Tyre and went up to Sidon before going back to the Sea of Galilee and the region of the Ten Towns. 32 A deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to him, and the people begged Jesus to lay his hands on the man to heal him. 33 Jesus led him away from the crowd so they could be alone. He put his fingers into the man's ears. Then, spitting on his own fingers, he touched the man's tongue. 34 Looking up to heaven, he sighed and said, ["Ephphatha,"] which means, "Be opened!" 35 Instantly the man could hear perfectly, and his tongue was freed so he could speak plainly! 36 Jesus told the crowd not to tell anyone, but the more he told them not to, the more they spread the news. 37 They were completely amazed and said again and again, "Everything he does is wonderful. He even makes the deaf to hear and gives speech to those who cannot speak."

I believe that I enter a glorious new year to be filled with prayer and praise. With service to God and mankind, with inspired creative activity. I believe that God’s presence goes with me wherever I shall go this year, by train or Ires or car or boat, slowly paced on foot, or high in air. I believe his love is shining in my body, his wisdom guides my mind, his peace fills me with poise, his strength is ever at my call. Oh I believe that this is God’s new year.

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stray-cat-21 · 2 years ago

Text

Meeting bat Eddie 🦇❤️‍🔥

Summary: Okay so Daytona on TikTok makes these adorable bat Eddie videos and they’re just so cute I decided to do a blurb (or a few) based on the concept. Please go check out her playlist it’s honestly the cutest thing ever. And the credit to this goes to her ❤️🦇

A month and a half had gone by since the events of the upside down. Meaning it had been a long six weeks Eddie had been stuck in bat form. When he had woken up from being killed by the bats from hell he thought he’d get to be a cool blood sucking vampire like the movies but instead he couldn’t figure out how to change out of his bat form. He was incredibly annoyed but at least being a bat wasn’t so bad. And at least he wasn’t wanted for murder.

“I know you’re bored but I have to work! I’ll read to you later alright?” Steve huffed towards the small creature that was now pouting on the counter top. A flurry of squeaking erupted from the bat accompanied by dramatic wing movements. “Well I’m sorry not all of us can fly around and eat all day Munson!” Steve sighed. The two were so busy in their argument they missed the jingle of the bell signaling someone entering the store.

(Y/n) stepped into the store black boots lightly hitting the floor. Her black jeans with jagged holes on the knees was paired with a Black Sabath raglan tour shirt topped with a black and white flannel. She eyed Steve Harrington who had his back turned clearly arguing with someone she couldn’t see. (Y/n) cleared her throat making him spin around like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Uh hi hello welcome to um Family Video can I help you find something?” He asked leaning against the counter.

“Um no I was actually just hired I’m supposed to start today. I was told to find Steve or Robin.” She informs him with a kind smile. Unbeknownst to either of them Eddie is doing his best to take a peak at what’s going on. His small form leaned over too far falling down to the floor along with his book. (Y/n)’s eyes flashed between Steve and trying to peak behind him.

“Well you found Steve, Robin’s on lunch right now. I’ll go grab your vest and name tag and we’ll get started!” He said with an awkward smile. She nodded watching him duck down grabbing something before disappearing into the back. When he was out of sight she leaned over the counter observing the worn copy of the Hobbit laying against the floor. The corners were frayed evidence of dog eared pages shown on the pages.

(Y/n) let’s out a curious hum her eyes flicking to door Steve had disappeared behind and back to the book. Walking around the countertop she picked up the novel admiring how well loved it clearly was. She also noticed the small bowl of assorted pieces of fruit, nuts, and pretzels. Hearing Steve throw open the door she rested the book carefully back on the countertop. He smiled handing her the green vest.

“Thanks you’re uh Steve Harrington right? You graduated the year before me.” She inquired throwing her new uniform on. “Yeah that’s me.” He nodded far too used to the how the mighty have fallen speech. “Cool I look forward to working with you.” She shrugged wanting the awkward conversation to be over. There was a pause and for a split second (Y/n) would have sworn she saw something in Steve’s shirt pocket move.

“So um he really didn’t have you start on the best day there’s not really anything going on just helping customers and taking care of last nights returns.” Steve said gesturing towards a cart with a small pile of tapes in it. (Y/n) nodded moving towards the returns. “I think I can manage.” (Y/n) smiled grabbing a few tapes moving to put them in their places. While she was turned with her attention focused on the horror movie display she could hear Steve talking almost arguing with himself. She tried to listen in carefully wondering if Robin had gotten back from lunch.

“I told you I don’t understand I’m sorry!” He said in a hushed yell. (Y/n) carefully stepped around the shelf moving towards the older man. There was no sign of anyone nearby or even a phone being talked into. “Don’t understand what?” She questioned watching as he jumped surprised. “I’m sorry what?” He asked like he wasn’t the one caught.

“You were talking to someone Harrington who?” This time it’s accusatory. (Y/n) was not going to let one of Hawkins pretty boy jocks gaslight her. “No one or not a someone it’s nothing really.” He all but squeaks. “So Steve the hair Harrington was talking to himself like a crazy person?” She asks putting her hands on her hips. Steve attempts to come up with some explanation but can’t come up with one that won’t send her running from the store.

Before he stutter out some bad lie Eddie pokes his head from Steve’s pocket little ears pointed up. (Y/n) felt like her jaw was lying on the floor seeing the small winged creature. “I-is that a bat like a real live bat?” She gawked. Steve cursed under his breath nodding his head. “Yes this is my uh pet.” He sighed pulling Eddie from his pocket.

Cautiously she stepped forward slightly leaning down to observe the bat. Eddie looked up at her eyes his little heart just thumping away in his chest. Up close he realized he did recognize the girl from school. They were kind of friends at least as close to a friend as someone could be with the town outcast without making themselves a pariah. Eddie would even go as far to say he once had a small crush on her.

“Steve Harrington has a pet bat?”

“Yeah he’s new uh Dustin Henderson’s idea.”

“What’s his name?”

“Eddie.”

“And the little denim vest?”

“Also Henderson’s idea.”

“Aren’t bats supposed to be nocturnal?”

“Yeah but I guess since this one’s main diet is fruit it doesn’t hunt at night? I don’t know Dustin tried to explain it to me but I stopped listening.”

(Y/n) eyes move over the small creature from his pointed ears that sat in a nest of what seemed like curls of hair instead of fur all the way down to his little feet. She hums slowly reaching out brushing gentle finger tips against his head. Eddie leaned into the touch a small squeak escaping him. Steve’s eyes were as saucers taking in the exchange. It had taken him about two weeks before he could get past his heebie jeebies and let Eddie get close to him.

“Can I hold him?” (Y/n) asked her eyes meeting Steve’s instead of Eddie’s for the first time in probably ten minutes. Before Steve even gets the change to answer Eddie is flying into (y/n)’s hand. “Dude I told you to be careful in public!” Steve scolds. (Y/n) giggles bringing him closer lightly scratching a place behind his ear. “Aw don’t yell at the poor baby he just needed attention didn’t you sweet boy?” She coos towards Eddie.

Even in bar form being treated like a pet Eddie feels like he could melt. “He doesn’t bother you?” Steve questions his eyes peaking over at the beautiful girl entering the store. (Y/n) shakes her head grinning ear to ear. “Alright well you wanna hang out with him while I go help this customer?” Steve asked. (Y/n) didn’t even bother to look up just nodding her head.

“Cool well his snacks are on the counter and he likes being read to.” Steve explained before scurrying off to go flirt. (Y/n) took a seat in the computer chair resting Eddie back on the counter. “You hungry little guy?” She asks softly. Eddie slightly nods his small tongue poking out briefly. Starting with a chunk of strawberry (y/n) lowered a piece of food to Eddie.

She couldn’t help but watch in adoration as his little fanged teeth sunk into the fruit. Red juice dribbled down his chin collecting at the edges of his mouth. “You’re awfully cute sweet boy.” (Y/n) sighs dreamily. If Eddie had his normal skin he’d be a blushing mess so for right now he was grateful for the fur. She continued to slowly feed him bits of food from the dish.

“I’ve always liked the name Eddie. Actually used to know someone named Eddie.” (Y/n) starts taking despite the fact that she thinks she’s conversing with a normal bat. Eddie’s ears perk up at the mention of his old self, at the fact that she not only remembers him but thinks about him even still. Although he knew not to get his hopes up she probably only thought of him as a murderer now despite that he had been legally cleared by Hopper and his colleagues higher up than Hawkins finest. At least in his supposed death he wasn’t a legally wanted man.

“He was real cool too. My- I mean the other, human Eddie. His name was Eddie Munson we went to school together for a while. He wore a denim vest too except his was always over his sick leather jacket and the Hellfire club shirt.” She continued almost rambling. There was a fondness to her voice paired with a glint in her eyes that made Eddie feel like his heart could crack right in two.

“I hate what they say on the news about him, that’s not who Eddie was. He wasn’t a monster, a killer, he was just different. Eddie Munson was kind and looked out for people who were targeted by others. He was a lot better than anyone in this podunk town ever have him credited for, but I guess people see what they want them to see. Anyways I’m rambling like a crazy person to a bat.” (Y/n) ends her slur of words with an embarrassed chuckle.

Eddie wouldn’t have cared if she had kept talking for hours if it meant he could hear her say his name and speak so kindly. Minus Dustin’s relief to finding out Eddie was alive he hadn’t heard many kind words be used in the same sentence as his name, not since Chrissy. “You’re almost as cute as he was sweet boy.” (Y/n) giggled petting him once again. In that moment Eddie desperately wished she could understand his squeaking. “He thought you were the cutest girl in all of Hawkins.” Is what his little chirps meant.

“Is this what Harrington over there wouldn’t read to you baby?” She cooed reaching over carefully to pick up the book. Eddie fluttered his wings in excitement bouncing up and down on the surface. “Want me to read to you?” She asked. As an answer he flew right up to her shoulder nuzzling down into the fabric of her vest. “Okay okay let’s see where you left off sweet boy.” She giggled finding the page seemingly most recently dog eared.

With Eddie snuggled comfortably into her shoulder she began reading. Eddie could swear with each silly voice and exaggerated reading he felt himself swoon. She put so much passion and care into her reading even if in her head he was just an animal. His eyes get heavy and he tries to force them to stay open wanting to enjoy this for as long as possible. Little do they know Robin has returned and is standing by Steve watching the exchange the pretty girl long gone.

“Are you kidding me he’s a literal mangey furry animal and he’s still getting chicks?”

“Aww is Steve jealous of the wittle bat?”

“No I just mean he’s got her wrapped around his little claw already what the hell.”

“Looks like our new girl is gonna be the Eddie whisperer.”

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #bat eddie munson #bat!eddie #kas eddie munson

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slothgiirl · 3 years ago

Text

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.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good?#was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff

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