#shiro's dry humour

[the-music-maniac]

I think I'm gonna fuck around and draw Shiro x Adam x Matt fanart out of spite for voltron season 7 and 8

[johaerys-writes]

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Pairing: Keith/Shiro

Summary:

After a Blade of Marmora mission almost costs him his life, Keith finds himself struggling with the aftermath. The danger has passed, but the nightmare is always close, grating against his skin; closer still, the more he tries to run away from it.

This time, though, Shiro is there.

My contribution for Day 15: Obedient of the Sheith Month event on Twitter is up! Also tagging @shirosaveskeith :)

Read on AO3!

The blade hisses as it slashes the air, dangerously close to Keith’s ear. He ducks, avoiding it by an inch. 

“Too slow.”

Keith grits his teeth and straightens under Kolivan’s watchful eye. “Don’t you think you should be a bit more careful with that? You could have cut my ear off.”

The edge of the Galra’s lip twitches in a sort of smile. He gets back into position too, adjusting his grip on his blade. “And how else will you learn, if not through fear of death?”

“Well, let’s see to it that it doesn’t turn into actual death, ‘kay?” Keith rolls his head and cracks his neck, shakes out his arms. They’ve been at it for a couple hours now, and he’s already starting to feel the strain of the exertion. Normally, at this time he would have just broken his first sweat, but the fabric of his undersuit is clinging to the sweat on his back, and there are droplets beading on his upper lip. He wipes it off on his sleeve and lets his body melt back into the starting position. “Come at me then, what are you waiting for?”

Kolivan doesn’t need much encouragement, and nor does Zelok, one of the Blade lieutenants, who joins them a moment later. The blades collide, over and over, their well sharpened edges flashing with every rapid movement. They’re both too fast for Keith, or perhaps Keith is indeed too slow, as Kolivan keeps barking at him at regular intervals.

“Might want to say that again, didn’t catch it the first time,” Keith growls, panting as he falls back. He’s drenched now, his hair plastered to the nape of his neck.

Zelok laughs, a dry and muffled sound from within his hood. “Feisty, the small one,” he tells Kolivan, and Keith rolls his eyes.

“I’m not small,” he grumbles, but it only makes Zelok laugh more. Keith doesn’t even know why he bothers with them some days. The Galra have such a weird sense of humour.  

He walks away to grab his water bottle, trying his best to ignore them. It’s true he hasn’t been in top shape ever since returning from his last mission, or the injuries he’d sustained then. The time he spent in that cruiser, captured and interrogated by the Galra, had not been kind to him, and even though Keith had stayed in the healing pod for days after Shiro had rescued him and taken him back to the castleship, his strength still hasn’t returned in full. He gets tired more easily, and his muscles feel like jelly even after light exercise, despite it being phoebs since everything happened. 

Those injuries are nothing to sneeze at, Coran had told him sternly after he had come to, berating him for wanting to get out of bed and get on with his tasks straight away. Don’t think you can go back to pushing yourself like you did for a while yet. 

Keith scowls as he sips on his water. Just thinking about it all gives him chills sometimes. He’s resolved to simply not think about it, and it’s been working fine so far. If only his body didn’t insist on reminding him how close he'd been brought to the edge, to the point of no return. 

He swallows thickly and pushes his sweaty hair away from his brow. His water bottle is empty now, and his thirst has been somewhat sated, but he’s nowhere close to recovered. Still, he grabs his blade once more and returns to the training ring. 

“I’m ready,” he says. 

Kolivan measures him up, his features grim. “No.”

“What? Why? I was only taking a break!”

“That’s enough training for today.”

“It hasn’t been even half the time we usually do.”

“Indeed. But you’re weak. You should focus on replenishing your strength before we continue our training.”

Keith lets out an exasperated huff. “Why does everyone keep treating me like a patient? I don’t need to replenish anything, I’m fine. I’ll push through it.”

“No. Go back to your quarters and get some rest.”

“Kolivan—”

“That’s an order, Blade,” Kolivan says in that tone that brooks no argument. He stares Keith down, until he’s finally obligated to relent. 

“Fine. Whatever.” Keith rolls his eyes and slips his blade back in its sheath, then marches out of the training room while Kolivan and Zelok resume their sparring. He takes a peek at them over his shoulder, and his stomach sinks with disappointment and sullen frustration—Zelok’s doing that double spin and kick that Keith’s been begging him to teach him for weeks now, and that he’s always told he’s not ready for. 

Read the rest on AO3!

[philosophicalparadox]

For the ask! Either Undertaker from BB or Mephisto from aoex (or both if u want 😁).

I'm gonna do both and rope @gemuesefuchs in because they asked the same thing about Mephisto! So I'll do him first!

Why I like him:

Hmm. Hard to pin down. I love trickster characters in general. I like that you never quite know what their plans are or which way they're going to swing at a problem. Only that there's always a high chance that they ARE the problem. I also love how intricate Mephisto is. His personality is deep and complex on a whole other abstract, alien level (literally) and I LIVE for that shit. (The eldritch horror thing is a huge bonus). I also have a very deep appreciation for dry, witty humour AND deep, philosophical discussions, so why wouldn't I like him? Lol.

Why I do not:

Let's all agree. There's a good kind of asshole. And a bad one. And while I love the sarcastic sassy asshole. I don't like the "mean for the sake of mean" asshole. On a lot of levels I don't think Mephisto is that kind of person on purpose but he is a serious jackass sometimes and his reasons for doing so are rarely apparent to anyone but himself. If that, even. I also don't like his tit-for-tat mentality but I do find it entertaining.

Favourite episode/scene:

Favourite scene is a toss up between him throwing Rin through a wall and his cloak-ey appearance in Gehenna. Though I liked him all the way through the Past arc.

Favourite line:

I loved him quoting Nietzsche, but I just can't forget the "you are worms" after tossing Rin through a wall. Im too lazy to find the direct quote.

Favourite outfit:

Love that man in a suit. Dark clothing brings out just how fuckin badly you do NOT want to run into him in a back alleyway.

OTP:

Eh. Don't really have one, but I pair him most often with Rin, casually with Amaimon and a little bit with Shiro in the past.

BROTP:

I think him and Azazel probably get along okay, and that he and Egyn have a secret past thing/strong comraderie (which has ZERO basis in cannon but it makes things fun). But more than anyone, I see him as being able to be bros with Rin. They aren't so different on the surface and they balance each other out pretty nicely - or they would, if Mephisto put in more effort. Not that I can blame him for not doing so. I genuinely think he and Shiro were friends and that Rin has just enough of his dad to pull at some old withered dead thing in Mephisto in a way he wouldn't like.

Headcanon:

Oh boy. I have a lot of those. One lesser known HC of mine is that Mephisto has mimics all over his house. Yes, THOSE mimics. Because a doorknob trying to eat you is exactly what he would find funny.

Unpopular Opinion:

Mephisto is a Scared Boy. I think a lot more of his actions, including ones that seem to be made in confidence, have their roots in fear. Fear of himself, more than anyone. He knows exactly who has ruined his life over and over and that person stares at him in front of a mirror every day. I also have a bone to pick with people who really try to "human" him up, but that's just personal preference for the macabre.

A Wish:

To see Mephisto lose his shit and be a mess. I want to know where that Ego breaks. What can he take. Im less interested in his powers and more interested in how he responds to the situation that requires him to use them. More than anything. I want to see this man cry. Sadistic I know but morbid curiosity.

A never-wish:

I never want to see the end of the series be "oops, I screwed up, time to start over!" Because it's too cliche and would be confusing.

5 words to describe him:

A Pain In The Ass

My nickname for him:

Jackass, and I guess, sort of Dionysus?

I'll come back to do UT later since this was longer than expected. Thanks for the ask! And sorry it took so long!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 178

178

12 days after collapsing, Keith finally came back to him. Showing signs of waking, Lance hit the call button, summoning Coran who immediately moved to Keith’s side, Lance forced back for his own safety as no one knew how Keith would react to suddenly being a wolf.

Groaning, Keith tried to pull his hands up, snarling when nothing happened. Slumping down, he let out a long breath. Lance’s gaze remained firmly on Keith’s face. If his boyfriend couldn’t distinguish scents, he hoped seeing him would be enough to reassure Keith

“Keith?”

Mental confusion was to be expected. Heck, brain damage possible. Keith tensed at Coran’s voice, yet drifted off before making a verbal reply. Much the day passed with Keith out of it. His eyes opening once or twice to stare up at ceiling, then he’d drift off again.

Verbalness didn’t come until mid-evening. Coran shining a torch in Keith’s eyes, Keith mumbling to “fuck off”, quite slurred but there. Lance laughing in relief. He couldn’t picture a more Keith way to wake up when he’d had his sleep interrupted and not been woken with kisses and promises of coffee. Knowing he should stay back, Lance didn’t. He really couldn’t. Taking Keith’s hand in his, he squeezed slightly too hard, his boyfriend’s eyes fluttering back open to stare directly at him

“Hey, babe. You’re okay. You’re okay and you’re safe”

“Lunnnce?”

Lance smiled through his tears as he nodded

“Yeah, babe. It’s me... I’m here”

“Smells... bad...”

The way Keith wrinkled his nose sent Lance’s heart soaring

“That’s because you’ve never smelt a vampire quite like me”

“Dun like...”

Yeah. He got it. He smelt like something dead that Keith would roll around in. He’d have to make it exceptionally clear that peeing on his death soil would not be tolerated

“I know. Rest some more for me, babe”

Keith was stubborn, his gaze glassy, tugging on his restraints he bared his teeth, showing off his now exceptionally pointed canines

“Whaaaas wrong with me”

Shit. His boyfriend must be more aware than Lance thought he was. Smiling, he tried to reassure him. Those cuffs probably had Keith’s brand new ego furious and confused

“Nothing, babe. Nothing is wrong with you. You’re going to be okay. I love you. Now go to sleep. We’ll talk when you wake. I’m here. I’m not going aware”

Coran put his hand to Keith’s head, Keith’s eyes starting to droop. Surely Coran’s plan wasn’t to make Keith sleep every time he woke up?

“Whaaad...s... wrong with me...”

“Nothing at all. I love you”

Keith dozed for another two hours. Lance didn’t mean to, yet ended up doing the same. He woke to find Keith staring at him intently. Much more lucid than the last time. Lance felt that same heart raising happiness as the first time Keith had opened his eyes on his own

“Babe?”

“What did you do me?”

There was a little slurring but no where near the same amount as when Keith woke before

“Babe...”

Keith drew his head back, eyes guarded. A quick glance to Keith’s hand confirmed his claws had come through. Keith probably didn’t know what to do with the energy running through his veins or how to control it

“Somethings wrong with me... what did you do to me!”

“Keith. You’re okay. You’ve been in a coma, for the week and a bit...”

His soft and gentle tone was snapped at

“What did you do to me?!”

The allegation of him doing something tore Lance’s happiness away. Where the fuck was Coran when he actually needed him?

“Let me call Coran, he’ll be able to explain”

“Fuck Coran! What’s wrong with me, Lance!? Why are the light to bright?! Why do you stink?!”

Lance‘s bottom lip trembled, head dropping forwards. He hadn’t wanted this for Keith

“You had a brain bleed. You nearly died. Coran tried to revive you out of it, but nothing was working...”

“No... no...”

Keith had always been smart, even if he didn’t believe it for himself. His eyes went to his hands, then back to Lance, narrowed in anger directly at him

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this. But you were dying...”

His boyfriend yelling, as Lance winced in guilt

“You turned me?!”

“I didn’t...”

“You fucking turned me?!”

Hyped up on anger, Keith tore the restraints off the bed. His boyfriend shooting forward, to slap him across the face with enough force Lance felt like his brain had been pingponged

“Get out!”

“Keith, please...”

“You broke my trust and you fucking turned me into a monster?! I’d rather be dead!”

Aggression on the back of a change was to be expected. Keith didn’t mean the words he was saying. His senses overloaded by how huge his world now was. Holding his smarting cheek, Lance started to cry

“Babe. Please... please listen to me... Coran said he’d tried every other possible way...”

“Then he should have found another one! Get out! Get out, I don’t want to see you!”

God. He knew Keith would be messed up. He’d found a place to belong and now that place had turned him into this. Stumbling away from the bed, he didn’t move fast enough. Keith’s hands going to the restraint on his left ankle. For all he’d done, now it meant nothing. Keith’s ego didn’t recognise him as friend. Nor did it see him as foe. It saw him as a traitor.

Slipping out Keith’s room, Lance was met by their friends gathered in the corridor. Hunk holding flowers, the first to stand

“We... heard he was waking up”

Pidge the first to realise something was wrong. Her eyes filling with guilt as she looked to her lap. Shiro the first to go... there

“What did Keith say?! Is he okay?!”

A bitter laugh broke free. He’d fucking told them. He’d told them Keith wouldn’t okay with this. Even if the idiot wanted the bite to stay together, the choice had been forced upon him. Raising his head, he let his hand drop, broken smile on his lips. He took no delight in watching Shiro’s face fall with his words

“Congratulations, Shiro. He said he didn’t want to see me and that he’d rather be dead. I hope you’re happy with everything you gotten. Coran, he snapped the restraints. I recommend you get in there before he tries to hurt himself”

Brushing past Shiro, the flower Hunk held fell to the floor. Pidge quickly to hug Hunk tight. Curtis comforting Shiro. Matt and Rieva both gazing down at their hands. Funny how no one moved to comfort him. He’d poured every ounce of love into caring for Keith, even when he knew he was being a dick about it, he thought they understood. Walking through the group, he felt drained and done. He’d thought he’d have to walk away alone, until Allura came jogging up to his side, then moved into his path

“Leave me alone, Allura”

“I can’t. You’re like a brother to me, Lance... Let me in”

“I can’t...”

“Lance”

“What do you expect me to say? Keith’s finally coherent and the first thing he says is that he should be dead. He... he said I broke his trust”

Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, the sadness he felt the others didn’t deserve to see spilled out. Breaking Keith’s trust was what hurt the most. He could understand Keith’s anger, but to think Lance had chosen this. Like he’d been waiting for this to happen, that’s what cut the deepest. Allura didn’t care. Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed his neck

“The Keith I know wouldn’t mean it. He’s confused and hurting. He needs time”

“And what am I supposed to do in the mean time?! He hates me!”

“He doesn’t. You need rest, come with me”

“I want to go home!”

“I know, but you’re emotionally exhausted right now. And Keith, he’ll need you when he settles. Come with me to my rooms. If you feel the same after you’ve rested, I’ll come home with you. I’m not leaving you alone, even if you hate me for it”

Lance shook his head at Allura

“I could never hate you”

“Then you’ll just have to let me in. Here, raise your head”

Lance sniffled as he did. Allura blurred into a blob from his tears. Wiping at the stream, she smiled warmly at him

“That’s better. We’ll work this out together”

“I don’t see how”

“It’s always darkest before the dawn. A hot shower and a good meal, things will seem better with some rest”

*

Allura prepared him a warm bath with bubblegum scented bubbles. Taking his time, the warm water seemed to cool too fast. Keith on his mind, as he had been nonstop. Rieva and Matt would have been there had Keith turned aggressive. Rieva would welcome Keith into their pack. The three of them now sharing something he wasn’t part of. In a world of scents, what if Keith found Matt and Rieva a more attractive match than himself? Matt could be spacey, and horny, but he was good looking in his own way. Rieva was plain beautiful. She was smart and witty. She had a dry sense of humour, and kept herself grounded, though she’d be a femme fatale if she played up her ego. No male wolf could resist her. He was just Lance. A boy from Cuba. With not that much to offer now he was jobless.

Allura had prepared a fluffy robe for him, it waited with a pair of her pink fluffy slippers by the bathroom door. Lance wasn’t sure he deserved such luxuries, but she’d taken his clothes away, not leaving him with much choice in what to wear. Bundling himself up, the fabric smelt of flowers. Kind of nice, and kind of making him long for his mother. Knowing such thoughts would do him no good, he made sure Allura’s bathroom was acceptably clean before letting himself out into the living area. In the small kitchenette, Allura had pulled her hair up, something green being stirred in the bowl in front of her

“How are you feeling?”

Was it wrong to feel better? He’d known he let himself go looking after Keith, he hadn’t taken the time to enjoy the movement of the twins when he had Keith to think of. It’d been nice to reconnect with the feeling of them moving inside of him. Pressing against the spots his hands laid on

“I feel bad to say I feel better”

Allura tilted her head, her smile not waving in the slightest as she scraped the spatula on the side of the bowl

“You’re allowed to feel better. I’m sorry. I think I messed this up. I was attempting to surprise you”

Shuffling over to her, Lance had no idea what the goop was

“Should I ask?”

“I thought perhaps a face mask and some self pampering would help you relax. I’m afraid you’ve started growing a mono-brow”

“I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

“Nothing a little self love won’t cure. I’ve got some blood too. Relatively fresh, from this morning”

Allura’s kindness made him feel shitty

“I don’t deserve this”

“I think you do. I heard about what happened while we were dealing with that demon. Everyone has been so worried about you and Keith”

“They should have been worrying about Keith and Curtis”

Allura giggled. Lance wasn’t what there was to giggle about

“Curtis is healing. You haven’t stopped since you woke. Coran was quite frustrated at your stubbornness in taking care of Keith”

“I can imagine. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he hated me”

Taking his hand in hers, Allura shook her head, scolding him for being stupid

“Coran would, and could, never hate you. Never. He simply wished you’d rest more”

“I thought... if I stopped, I’d lose him. I thought that if maybe I was there when he woke he’d be less scared. Like he’d see me and that... would make it okay. You know, maybe he’d listen to me instead of seeing me as a threat. I know it was stupid being a vampire when he’s now a wolf... I feel stupid. I felt like love would conquer all... I... I trusted in our bond”

“Your bond is still there. You still love him. This will work out, I know it”

Lance sucked his bottom lip, feeling like he was intruding for asking

“Is that something you saw?”

Allura’s smile wavered

“Oh, no. No, I haven’t seen it. I just have faith”

Damn. Her foreseen futures never seemed to be anything good... much like her attempt at a home made face mask

“I’m sorry but I’m low on faith right now. I appreciate this though... why don’t I start a new batch from scratch? You’re still recovering too”

“I must admit, I don’t have the knack for this like you do. Lance, I feel like I’ve been a terrible friend. I must confess I did avoid both you and Keith. I didn’t want to see anything bad”

“It’s okay. I get it. It’s not something you can control”

“That doesn’t excuse not being there for you”

Lance snorted. Allura would have been if she could have been. She’d needed days to recover from the demon incident, plus she was probably running around micromanaging everything to free up Coran’s time

“I haven’t exactly been the easiest person to be there for. I haven’t even asked about Lotor”

Allura sighed dramatically, Lance feeling the edges of his lips turn up. She continued with her theatrics, playing out his and her part in two different voices

“You honestly don’t want to know. He’s all like “I’ll come back!”, and I’m all like “You don’t have to!”, and then I find myself missing him. Then he’s all like “I have a good reason”. Does he not think I know that? Don’t mention his terrible tastes in suits! I wonder to myself what I must be thinking?”

“He tried to do a good thing...”

“He did, yet, he makes me so mad, I want to stomp my foot and scream”

“No one’s stopping you”

“This much is true. If you’re taking care of the face masks, I’ll get that blood out. I hope you’re prepared. I would like one order of a night off with some serious pampering, and no emergencies”

“You and me both. What are we going to watch?”

“I have no idea! Ugh! Decisions...”

Lance let her make him smile. Allura was often so calm and composed, to see her like this reminded him of when he was kid

“Allura, can I do your hair for you?”

Taking her pony tail in her left hand, Allura looked at the end of it

“I thought we agreed we were going for self love”

“I know. You have such beautiful hair, it makes me want to braid it like I used to do for my sisters”

“In that case I would love it!”

“Great. Let’s get the prep done and settle back for some serious relaxing”

Settling in to watch a rom-com, Lance liked hanging out with Allura. Face masks came first, then Lance braided Allura’s hair according to a photo she liked on Google. His snacks for the night consisted of blood, and a few handfuls of stolen popcorn and they curled up on the sofa under a bright pink unicorn blanket. He didn’t make the best visitor, needing to pee meant disturbing Allura, but she never made a big deal out of it.

Nearing the end of the first movie, Lance was starting to doze off when there was a knock on Allura’s door. Comfortably warm and settled, the pair of them looked at each other before Lance pulled the “It’s your room” card on her. Allura missed Lotor a lot. Lance had a feeling that she’d come to understand Lotor differently since he actually kind of tried to prove he wasn’t as bad as he led everyone to believe. Sitting up, Lance watched Allura cross the space, able to jog without a heavy belly in the way. Stepping back from the door, Lance watched something white being waved. He could smell Hunk and Pidge there.

Not wanting a fight, he sank lower in the sofa. Hands on his belly to keep himself grounded

“Pidge! Hunk! What a lovely surprise. What brings the both of you here?”

“We wanted to see Lance... He’s still here, isn’t he?”

Allura looked to him. Lance peaking over the back of the sofa

“He is...”

“Look, we brought movies and food. We don’t want to fight. We want to see our best friend”

Damn Pidge. He couldn’t be mad at either of them, let alone fight with them when they’d really done nothing wrong

“I’m not sure...”

Allura tried her hardest to be polite, but what was the point of having friends if he didn’t make the effort when they’d made the effort to come see him?

“It’s okay, Allura. They can come on in”

Making a beeline for him, Lance found Allura’s place stolen by her as he copped an armful of Pidge. Two shopping bags hung off each arm, not that that stopped her

“We thought you might have left”

“I don’t have my keys”

“I’m sorry. You know I’m not mad at you, right? Me and Hunk aren’t mad”

He couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to enjoy hanging with Allura, and now Pidge and Hunk

“Pidge, I can’t deal with that right. But I’m not mad at you guys either”

Pidge pulled back, beaming mischievously

“Good! Now, Hunk and I did the drive around. We’ve got garlic knots, Italian, Chinese, pizza, slushies, and DVD’s”

“DVD’s are totally old school”

“I didn’t know if Allura had streaming or not. I forgot to check before we left. Oh my god, you missed the biggest fight too. Curtis called Shiro a “wanker”. He was going to come with us, but Coran said he shouldn’t be leaving the medical ward yet”

He adored Pidge, but that was one part of her that made him feel bad. She was so fiercely loyal that she found herself “picking sides” when there shouldn’t be sides being chosen

“Pidge. Shiro’s Keith’s precious brother. This is between me and him. I don’t want you guys being mad at him because of what he did”

“You’re so mature. I mean...”

Nope. No. He didn’t want this at all

“Pidge. Please. Right now Allura and I are on a mission not to think about that. I want to focus on me and the twins. Please can we leave Keith moving out to another day?”

Pidge’s eyes widened in shock

“He’s moving out?”

Lance didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. It’d all come down to how much Keith hated him once he calmed down

“We’re basically over at this point in time... and now I’m about to cry again”

Pidge shook her head as she started rummaging through one of the bags looped over her left arm. Lance fanned his face, not wanting tears to remove the lingering tingles from the face mask

“No! Noooo. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. Here, look, I’ve got chocolate too. It’s the good stuff. Full bars and all”

“You guys can stay, but... I don’t want to talk about this...”

“Okay! Deal. Allura, is it okay to put stuff on the table? Or are you a sit at the dinner table kind of girl?”

Allura shrugged. Bouncing back from the arrival of Hunk and Pidge and off to get more bedding... which was pink. Allura really loved pink and pink looked great on her

“I don’t mind either way”

“Excellent! Now, what movie do you want to watch? I’ve got horror and I’ve got b-grade horror”

He liked the rom-com... but the rom-com didn’t like him back. He missed Keith. He wondered what Keith was doing right now. If he was okay. If he and Shiro were talking. Or if Shiro had been yell and growled at too. He didn’t want anything that made him think

“B-grade”

“Excellent! It cost me a whole dollar, which we all know means badness guaranteed!”

“You intentionally watch bad movies?”

Pidge snorted both at the comment and mound of fluffy pink blankets she was carrying over

“Yeah. That’s the whole point. We act out the stupid bits and we point out the flaws”

“I‘ve never tried. I hope I won’t annoy you”

“Allura, you know more than any of us about this creepy stuff. I intend to tap into that wealth of knowledge”

“I shall try my very hardest. Also, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to give me my spot back. Lance makes the most comfortable of pillows”

“But you got up”

“To let you. Would you prefer I asked you to leave?”

Pidge gaped at Allura, before shaking her head in defeat

“Damn. I never thought you had it in you. Respect, girl. Respect. Hunk, shove, I want to cuddle Lance”

“No can do. As his official best friend and sunshine of his life, I’ve claimed this spot for Hunk kind”

Pidge blew a raspberry

“You both suck. Don’t think I won’t remember this!”

“You won’t once you get your hands on your slushy”

Pidge rolled her eyes at Hunk, before sighing heavily at Lance

“He said I couldn’t have four flavours. I got four flavours. He brought whatever comes next on himself”

Lance would always stand by the opinion four flavours were too many, yet if it made Pidge happy, than he’d keep that to himself

“Alright, Gremlin. Let’s get the food out. Then you can have your slushie and we can have a real night in”

“A real night in” that lasted another half an hour for Lance before he fell asleep against Hunk. His best buddy not missing a step by wrapping his arm around him and tucking him up against his side.

[keiththespacekitty]

Gentle

There was a mystery to solve with Adam. 

He had a way of appearing stoic, as though he constantly put up a professional mask, the only cracks that overtly appeared being a sharp wit and a dry, sardonic humour. Even back at the garrison, even as a teen, Adam always seemed like a man determined to have a personality as beige as wallpaper.

But that wasn't the real Adam.

Shiro was used to people watching- at first, out of boredom, although after everything, people watching had become a necessity. Although watching Adam was intriguing to him.

Adam was currently writing something at the desk, although Shiro didn't know what. He sat with his back straight, shoulders back, feet flat against the floor, professional, cold. Except Shiro knew him well enough to see through it.

Shiro noticed the way that Adam's brows would knit slightly in confusion every few lines, and he'd grip the pen just a tad tighter. He'd breathe out loudly through his nose, and continue with a small shake of his head. After a few minutes, he'd pause to roll his shoulders and crack his neck with either a bored or frustrated sigh, before pulling his chair a marginal fraction closer to the desk and continuing with a blank, unreadable expression.

That's how he knew that Adam cared about what he was writing, because when Adam didn't care, he'd type it out straight onto the document instead of drafting it on paper first. Shiro had been woken up multiple times by the frustrated clacking on the keys of Adam's laptop, the heavy sighs, and the frustrated groans of a man with two cups of coffee on his desk working at three am.

Shiro had the luxury of knowing Adam during his garrison days, a young cadet who, to most people, seemed uptight, if not a little angry. But Shiro remembered the first time he saw Adam cry.

They'd been in Adam's dorm, talking, at first, whilst Adam finished an assignment for biology. It had gotten to five am, and Adam had raised his hands as if to knock his work off the table, before he politely excused himself from the table and made to walk out of the dorm, but Shiro has caught the tears in his eyes and gently guided him to sit on his bed, and Adam had cried. 

He'd started slowly, holding back his tears and trying to control his breathing, insisting that he was fine. Shiro had gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and Adam had just started sobbing. Shiro had tentatively pulled him closer, scared that Adam would pull away from the touch- after all, he never really seemed like the cuddly type. But Adam accepted the hug without protest, lifting his feet off the floor and curling up, clinging to Shiro like his life depended on it. 

It had surprised Shiro, because Adam had never appeared emotionally vulnerable. It was the first time that Shiro stopped seeing Adam as an acquaintance and started to see him as a friend. Because Adam was closed off, and here he was, sobbing into Shiro's shoulder over a 5am essay. He seemed inconsolable, and Shiro regretted never making much effort to speak to him in class, because maybe if they'd been friends sooner, Shiro would have noticed that nobody else seemed to talk to Adam. 

After that, Shiro had made the effort to talk to him more in class, and had found that before making a sarky comment to the teacher under his breath, the corner of his mouth always quirked up in a subtle, troublemaking grin. And just like that, Shiro was falling for him. 

It became apparent that Adam wasn't naturally studious and neat. Adam's room was progressively messier the more relaxed he became around Shiro- and for Adam, that wasn't much, maybe an unmade bed or a rogue jumper that Shiro could have sworn he had in his wardrobe somewhere, but it was a sign that Adam was becoming more comfortable around Shiro. And then it occurred to Shiro that Adam was almost never so unguarded, was therefore always uncomfortable.

Adam wasn't easy to make friends with. Not because he was boring, but because he didn't seem to know how to make them. He didn't see any of his own hobbies as interesting, often professing that he didn't have any, and the two often descended into awkward silences where Adam didn't know what to say and he wasn't unguarded enough for Shiro to be let in.

But Adam was a warm person. Socially awkward, stoic, and warm. Adam would get a goofy smile on his face whenever Shiro cracked a particularly terrible joke, would respond with a thinly veiled insult, although his voice always softened when he did so.

And most importantly to Shiro, Adam was the only one who called him Takashi. 

Sure, Shiro liked his nickname, but Adam had seen through that. Shiro remembered the first time Adam called him his name, and how emotional the day had been.

"Shiro?"

"I'm fine," Shiro protested, "I'm okay."

"Shiro," Adam repeated, voice firm with intent, but softened at the edges of his words, "I can tell that you aren't okay. What's happened."

"Nothing's happened, I just…" Adam frowned, as though it didn't register to him that Shiro could be upset without a reason. Of course, Shiro was upset with a reason, and of course, Adam knew this somehow. Shiro had noticed himself falling in love, with Adam, and it scared Shiro, because a huge part of his identity was still a secret from anyone except the garrison staff, and Shiro was sure that it would throw away any chance he had of Adam loving him too. 

"Shiro," Adam repeated softly, "what's wrong?"

"I have something to tell you," Shiro managed, because it was bubbling up and festering into self hatred again, and Shiro knew that he couldn't let himself spiral again. He'd worked too hard to love himself, and besides, Adam was his friend. He knew that he could be vulnerable with Adam, and Adam would take that vulnerability with complete seriousness, would unquestioningly hold it close to his heart as though it was his own secret to protect. 

"I'm listening," Adam replied, body language relaxing to show that he was open, that he could be the emotional support that Shiro needed right now. 

"My name isn't Shiro," he began slowly, "it's a nickname. Part of my surname, Shirogane." Adam already knew this, but it was an important detail, and Adam seemed to understand this, looking to Shiro with gentle intent. Shiro almost felt like crying, emotionally drained thinking of all the outcomes to this talk, even if he knew that the worst ones weren't realistic. "The teachers call me Shiro because I asked them to, so they don't read out the name on the roll call."

"Why," Adam asked softly, no judgment, no question, just a gentle prompt for Shiro to continue. 

"Because it's my deadname," Shiro replied quietly, "and I'm scared of people using it. My surname is the same no matter what, no matter what people see me as, so they have no reason not to use it. My surname doesn't change if they see me as male, or… not. And I'm scared that if I stop telling people to call me Shiro, that if I start asking people to call me Takashi, then they'll call me my deadname instead."

"Takashi," Adam began softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm, "you have a right to hear your name. Especially if you chose it yourself, just like you have a right to every other part of your identity. I think I already know, but, can you tell me, personally, why you changed your name?" 

Shiro took a deep breath. "I'm trans." Saying it with Adam, however difficult, felt as natural as breathing. The nerves were creeping in, but Adam remained gentle and patient. 

"Takashi," Adam began, looking Shiro in the eye, "you never have to worry about that with me. You'll always be Takashi to me, unless and until you change that yourself. I'll always call you Takashi. It's your human right, and it's important to me- you're… important to me, okay?" Adam took a deep breath, moving his hand up to cup Shiro's cheek. "I love you, Takashi."

Shiro was feeling sentimental. Adam was loving, kind, accepting, gentle. Adam was gentle, and Shiro felt safe. Even after all these years, all the hurt, the break up, the trauma, he'd found his way back home, to Adam. Adam who would smile softly when Shiro hugged his teddy bear whilst he helped him with his T shot. Adam who would laugh unguarded every time Shiro shot him a cheesy pick-up line when they couldn't sleep at night. Adam who would hold him close after the nightmares and whisper gentle reassurances into Shiro's ear, would rock them gently, would make sure that Shiro was aware of his needs and emotions, would keep him grounded.

Most importantly, Adam loved him, gently. 

[youkaiangel]

For the fluff challenge, may we please have Sesshorin? The alphabet(s): S-E-H-O-R-I-N? 🤭 thank youu

Alright well I’m sorry this took so long, but here’s my HC for the fluff A-Z challenge as requested.

S is for soft: describe their softest feature.

I mean, obviously mokomoko is the softest part of both of them. Rin doesn’t push it much, but whenever she can snuggle with mokomoko, she definitely will. As they grow closer in their relationship, Sessh allows it more and more, until eventually he starts to initiate and enjoys wrapping her up in mokomoko and holding her close.

E is for essential: what is one thing they could never go without?

Other than each other? Nothing, I don’t think, this is a couple that have everything they need, as long as they have each other (literally, they don’t even need a roof over their heads, and can both go a long time for their respective species without food). But the closest thing to an earthly possession that they as a couple couldn’t do without is probably Bakusaiga. Not only is this sword the greatest weapon Sesshomaru has, and he (eventually) fully acknowledges that he must use it to protect Rin, but its the weapon that, without Rin, he never would’ve been able to obtain. To her, it represents the growth that Sesshomaru went through, and she couldn’t be more proud of his development and maturity. It means a great deal to both of them so I think it would be the closest thing to an essential.

H is for holding hands: do they like holding hands?

Yes. Rin loves holding hands. All the time. As much as she can. Sessh doesn’t like any type of physical affection where other people can see (NO PDA). But when no one else is around, he will let her do as she pleases, and that includes holding his hand.

O is for organisation: are they clean or messy?

Sesshomaru is always pristinely clean, tidy and organised. Rin a little bit less so. There is a sense of organisation, but it’s not extreme. She knows where all the herbs and ointments are kept, but it is no where near like his scrolls, his weapons and armour, his kimonos, everything he owns back at the shiro.

R is for rainy day: do they like the rain? How would they spend a rainy day?

Sesshomaru never let the rain stop him before, until one time Rin got sick while they were travelling in the rain. Since then, he will always find them somewhere nice and dry, and have Jaken get a fire going if he can smell that the rain will last a while. Rin will venture out briefly to frolic in the rain, splash in some puddles and bask in the sensation of the clean clear water falling on her face as she looks up to the sky, and Sesshomaru will stay by the fire and admire her all the more, until she comes back to join him.

I is for inside joke: something they do that everyone thinks is funny but they don’t understand.

They have a few little inside jokes, but I think the longest running one has to be to do with Jaken. When she first started travelling with Jaken and Sesshomaru it probably took her a while to understand that Sesshomaru’s cold nature towards Jaken was just full of idle threats. After a while she would start to giggle every time Sesshomaru threatened Jaken (her favourite was when he would threaten to eat Jaken, even though they both knew he wasn’t carnivorous) and the fact that she understood his sense of humour made him feel this strange thing oddly similar to happiness though it couldn’t be happiness, he didn’t feel such emotions.

N is for nickname: a nickname they would have or their favourite thing to be called.

Sesshomaru use nicknames? Not likely. And little Rin respects her Lord Sesshomaru enough not to dishonour him with nicknames. But as she grows older and closer to him, I think she does come up with some endearments. Usually something including titles and honourifics, My Esteemed Lord Husband, Prince of My Heart, Lord of the Western Lands and my southern regions, or commonly just Beloved. Every so often he might give her a pet name, My Lady if he’s being formal, or Nesshin’na (enthusiastic) because it makes her happy and he gets to see her smile for him.

[panickypaladin]

"Shit." Shiro hissed under his breath as his shirt finally lost its battle with his chest, the garment now gaping where the fixing once had been. On one hand he was the pinnacle of physical fitness (chronic illness excluded), on the other hand he'd loved that shirt. Disappointment aside Shiro was one to inject a little bit of dry humour into anything. "Hey Hunk, what do you think of my 70's pornstar look?" He gestured to the gaping chest area with a dry laugh.

“Hm?” Hunk looked over as Shiro called his name and...

got a face full of Shiro’s pecs.

“Uhh... I thought I heard the ping of a button go flying.” He put down the pad that he had been reading on and turned towards Shiro. “Very kitschy. You just gonna need a proper handlebar moustache now and a gold chain to go with it.”

[knight-of-the-thorn]

Casus Laedere

Human Ranger/Elementalist | Chosen

Casus Laedere was an ancient Ascalonian hero who helped Prince Rurik guide refugees across the Shiverpeaks. It’s said he was very direct, with a dry, and often derisive sense of humour. After helping to defeat the titans and uncover the treachery of the Mursaat, he travelled a lot, and helped the two heroes who defeated Shiro Tagachi and stopped Abaddon from releasing Nightfall, with their respective quests. The trio became very close. They were life-long friends. Though in Casus’ case, that life didn’t last very long.

He began to withdraw shortly after slaying the Great Destroyer. He was presumed dead 1080 AE, at the age of 32. There is little concrete information on his disappearance, other than his reported prior isolation and erratic behaviour. His last known location tracks to the Maguuma Jungle, and his small home in the Ascalon Settlement was found all but emptied out, save for a collection of several torn up, and notably incomprehensible journals scattered throughout.

Casus had no known children, but was survived by a nephew, Alexander Laedere, a member of the Ebon Vanguard.

[ao3feed-klance]

you're a ten, i'm a four-leaved clover

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2AqNeXc

by zxrycyan

An exploration of the team getting closer and Keith falling in love, featuring lots of Lance singing and Keith being completely oblivious about pop culture and other things.

(He only gets one step in the door before the chorus hits and Lance starts rapping, making ridiculous hand gestures to fit and shifting his hips in time to the music. This would be nothing really out of the ordinary, except Lance is saying, "I- like- big boys, itty bitty boys, Mississippi boys-"

Keith very nearly chokes on air.

"-inner city boys. I like them pretty boys, with the bow tie. Get your nails did, let it blow dry~ I like a-"

Keith's mouth - without any input from his brain at all, what the hell - says intelligently, "You're straight."

Oh, good one, Keith, he thinks sarcastically.)

Words: 5485, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Coran (Voltron)

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt

Additional Tags: Song fic?, hunk plays the guitar, Pining, lance comes out via song? sorta, Keith is so oblivious, Team Bonding, Family Bonding, Team as Family, Boys In Love, Singing Lance (Voltron), Humour, Falling In Love, Getting Together

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2AqNeXc

[mnemosys]

@eeriestatic​ said: ❝I’ll still keep fighting for you, Shiro. Don’t worry.❞ - Markus

      ❝Are you implying that I can’t take care of myself?❞, he joked with his usual deadpan. But since the target of his dry humour was Markus, no doubt he’d already caught onto the underlying playfulness. 

      On a more serious note, he bridged the distance between the two of them and took hold of his hands, bringing them to his chest whereupon he placed them palm-down. His own hands squeezed them there against his heartbeat.

      ❝No matter what you’re planning to fight against, I will be right there with you on the frontlines... Always.❞

[panda-noosh]

Less than Lovers, More than Friends {Matt Holt x Reader}

Words: 8k

  Summary: Matt's girlfriend is toxic, and he doesn't realise it.

  Genre: angst

  Warning: domestic abuse – manipulation

  Notes: masterlist –  i’m back folks yeehaw 

  ---

    Your shoulders jerked as another crash sounded from the room opposite you, followed abruptly by Matt and Caitlin's yelling.

   It was nothing new. You heard them fighting all the time, heard Caitlin losing her temper to the point where she picked up the closest object to her and volleyed it across the room at Matt. But just because you heard it often, didn't mean you enjoyed it, didn't make it any easier to sleep through.

    You clenched your eyes shut tight and rolled over, dragging the pillow over your head in any attempt to block out the god awful arguing; it would go on for hours. Caitlin would never let the subject drop, not until Matt was all but claiming she had been right the entire time. Sometimes Matt let the argument go on and on, refusing to belittle his own intelligence for someone as stubborn as Caitlin – but eventually she would lose her temper, and things got broken and Matt got hurt.

    Sometimes you wondered why he was still with her.

   In fact, you always wondered why he was still with her, when he could have any person in the world. He was smart, kind, good looking – he was a gift. Someone you knew you weren't worthy to call your own, but someone you wished you could.

     And yet there he was, in the hallway across from you with his wild girlfriend throwing foreign objects at him. He could be doing something with his life, have a love that he deserved, but he stayed with her.

    The door to your room slowly creaked open, and you knew immediately who it was. Glancing over your shoulder, your suspicions were confirmed when Allura slipped into the darkness and stood hesitantly in your doorway, awkwardly ringing her hands in front of her.

   You rolled over fully, having to speak up to be heard over the psychotic screams of Caitlin across the hall. “Why are you up so late?”

   “Why do you think?” Allura replied. Now that she had confirmation you were indeed awake, she strolled confidently across your room and flopped down onto the bed next to you, tugging the covers up to her chin. “They've been arguing for hours. I think she hurt Matt again.”

   “Should we do something?”

   “Yes.” Allura paused. “But you know what Matt's gonna do if we try to intervene again.”

   You pursed your lips, remembering the last time any of you had tried to step in front of Caitlin and put a stop to the chaotic fighting. She had gotten out of control again, and Shiro had had enough. He marched into the room, got ready to yell, but then Caitlin was whirling on him and throwing an ash tray in his direction. Matt had been forced to grab her, causing himself even more harm.

   He hadn't spoken to Shiro for days after that.

   You sighed and buried your head in the pillows once again. “What do you think they're arguing about this time?”

   “I wouldn't call it arguing as much as it's Caitlin screaming her head off,” replied Allura. “But I think it's about Matt's mission tomorrow.”

   You perked up. “The one him and I are going on?”

  “Mm.” Allura picked at her nails, her arms stretched high above her face. “Miss Caitlin doesn't like it when you and Matt have alone time together.”

   You paused, head snapping round to evaluate the expression on Allura's face, because surely she was kidding. Despite there being absolutely no hint of humour in her voice, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that she would even suggest such a bizarre thing.

   You prided yourself on how well you hid your feelings for Matt Holt. There was no way someone like Caitlin was able to see through the wall you had built for the past five years of knowing the man.

   “What are you talking about?” you asked when Allura showed no sign of elaborating on her bizarre claims.

   She looked over at you and shrugged, as if her words were no big deal. “I don't exactly blame her. You've known Matt longer than she has, and she doesn't like that you two have that bond. Plus, Matt is always ten times happier when he's around you – anyone on the ship is able to see that.”

   Your mouth grew dry, head running at a million miles per hour. Was Caitlin currently hurling insults, hurling objects at Matt because of what she thought of you?

   You clenched your fists tight in the covers. Allura jerked, the covers bunching up around her chin with the grip you currently had in them.

   “Y/N?” Allura inquired, slowly leaning over to get a better look at your expression in the darkness. You quickly unclenched your jaw, relaxed your fists, started nonchalantly smoothing a crease out in the blankets.

    “He promised us he can deal with her,” you said. “I'll check up on him once she's calmed down.”

   Allura nodded, though she kept a suspicious eye on you even as she relaxed back into the pillows. Neither of you spoke after that – it was too difficult trying to have a civil, simple conversation when you could hear Caitlin's animalistic shrieking thumping through the walls in the next room. It played as background music to the sound of your own worried thoughts, images of Matt trying desperately to calm Caitlin down.

    Allura's breathing slowly eased until it was nothing more than a gentle trickle, indicating she had finally fallen asleep. You wanted to follow her lead, needed to follow her lead considering you had an important mission to go on the next morning – but you couldn't. You couldn't even close your eyes without thinking of Matt, without thinking of the guilt that was currently erupting in your system because you weren't doing anything.

   You pressed the balls of your palm into your eye, tried to fight off the urge to scream before rolling over and burying your head in the pillows, the only thing you could think to do to waste time before morning came.

   +++      How he always managed to pretend that nothing had happened was completely beyond you.

     How she could pretend that nothing had happened was completely beyond you.

     Caitlin and Matt walked into the kitchen side-by-side, as per usual, the next morning. You had been sat downstairs since before the sun had even risen, your lack of sleep dragging you from the warmth of the comforters so you could start breakfast for everyone else. Shiro and Keith – forever the early birds – had already indulged in a plate of scrambled eggs each, both very confused as to why you were up so early, but neither asking for answers.

    Now it was Matt and Caitlin's turn, and to say you were dreading their appearance was an understatement.

   As usual, Matt gave you that award winning grin before he settled himself down at the counter. Caitlin gently stroked her fingertips over his shoulder blades as she walked past him towards the fridge, a way of silently telling you that he was hers. She didn't even look in your direction, but the message was clear from the smug smile on her face as she let her fingers scrape along his flesh, forcing him to look up and give her a small, acknowledged nod.

    You clenched your fists, biting your lower lip before you looked over at Matt and smiled. “Sleep well?”

   “Do we have any milk left from our last grocery run?”

    Your teeth clamped impossibly harder upon your bottom lip, Caitlin's shrill voice making your toes curl.

   Nonetheless, you turned and glanced at her. “We should do. Unless Hunk was doing his usual late night-”

  “Oh, here's some!” she yipped, popping up from the fridge with a full carton of milk in her hand – she had only interrupted your greeting with Matt to stop any type of conversation from forming.

    You turned back and shook your head slowly. Matt caught the movement – he often did – and pursed his lips, before reaching over and grabbing the bowl of scrambled eggs that you had left out on the counter. “These fresh?”

    “Freshly made this morning,” you replied. “You should probably dive in, though. Even Keith had some.”

   “Keith?” Matt widened his eyes in exaggerated shock. “Wow. Whoever made these must have some skills in the kitchen.”

    You shrugged. “I can't take all the credit. I didn't even know how to crack an egg before Hunk-”

   “Matt, scooch over.”

    Once again, Caitlin made her appearance. Matt barely had time to register what she had asked of him before she was crashing her shoulder against his and slipping onto the stool next to him. She slapped her bowl of cereal down onto the counter, took one glance at the eggs and scowled.

   “They look like they've been sat out for hours.”

   You raised a brow. “I only made them this morning.”

   “Mm,” she hummed dismissively before turning to Matt. “I think you should just have cereal. Don't wanna risk getting sick before a mission, do you?”

   Matt pursed his lips. Your heart thundered, anger pouring into your veins at a million miles per hour. You were going to lose it. You were really going to lose it, because her attitude this morning and the memories of the vile things she had been screaming the previous night were flashing through your mind, driving you forward, making you-

    “No. I feel like having scrambled eggs this morning.”

  Your eyes snapped up, widening just a fraction. “Matt, you don't have to-”    But he was already reaching for the bowl, even as his girlfriends eyes shot daggers into the side of his head, even as Caitlin all but trembled with fury at being disobeyed by the one person she believed she had wrapped around her finger.

   You kept your eyes on her, prepared for anything. It was a protective streak, a dull thump in the back of your head. Your fingers uncurled from the fist you had them bunched up in, ready to reach over the table and grab her ponytail if she even so much as tried to lay a hostile finger on Matt.

    But even though she was an evil bitch, she had common sense. She flicked her eyes over to you, took a deep breath and quickly dove back into her cereal, now turning her head away from Matt as a sign of defiance.

   Matt scooped some scrambled eggs onto his plate and started eating, eyes shining with the first bite. “Ooh. Hunk taught you well!”

    You kept an eye on Caitlin, even as you accepted the compliment, even as you and Matt were finally able to get into a proper, intelligent conversation that didn't involve her stupid, petty questions cutting in every few seconds.

   It was nice, despite the air of tension that was surrounding you all. Allura's words from the previous night echoed in your head; Caitlin wasn't bristling because of Matt. She was bristling because of you, because of your presence, because Matt truly could speak to you with little to no hesitation.

    A part of you thought it might be better if you just got up and left. Caitlin would calm down, and Matt would be able to have a peaceful breakfast – but you were only guessing with that one. You could get up and leave and open the flood gates for him by leaving him alone with her. She could turn on him, her temper flaring, and then what would happen? God only knew, but judging by the argument they had been having last night, the aftermath could be nothing good.

   And so you stayed, talking to Matt both because you wanted to hear his voice, and because you wanted to keep him safe.

   +++

  You buckled your seat belt and shot Allura one final farewell glance before the ship was taking off and you and Matt were alone.

    You couldn't remember the last time you had been alone with him. The two of you were friends – best friends – but there was a barrier that had been placed between you in the past six months that he had been with Caitlin.

    Neither of you spoke about it, though the tension within the silence was clue enough that he could feel it just as heavily as you could. He was sat in the drivers seat, hands gripping the wheel, glancing up at you through the rear view mirror every few seconds. You could only spare him an awkward smile before you turned back to the GPS you had been put in charge of.

     Things were just different. Not in a bad way. Just being able to see him every day and still call him your friend was good enough for you, but things were different in the sense that Matt was no longer the young fifteen year old boy you had met all them years ago. He was someone different now – smarter in the sense of his intelligence and his experience, but stupid in the sense that he had let himself get trapped in such an awful situation, and was currently refusing any of the help he was being offered.

   The ship juddered. Matt changed gear quickly, glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and it was then that you decided to speak up.

    “You didn't have to do that at breakfast, you know.”

    Matt looked away. “I didn't do anything at breakfast.”

   “You did. You can't deny it.”

    “I ate breakfast.”

   “You went against Caitlin's orders.”

   Matt's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Part of your brain was screaming at you to back off, to let the subject drop before he got angry at you and this entire mission became one big, awkward mess.

    But you didn't back off.

    “You say that like she owns me,” Matt grunted finally. “I'm a twenty year old man. I can do what I want without her permission.”

   “That's not what the rest of us have been seeing these past few months.”

   “Good thing the rest of you aren't in my relationship and don't know jack shit about what goes on behind closed doors.”

 You scoffed. “I think those of us that hear her throwing stuff at you every night are pretty familiar with what goes on behind closed doors.”

   He snapped, slapping his palm against the steering wheel. The ship stirred, but Matt quickly got it back under control, ignoring your startled cry. “Why are you even talking to me about her? You two don't even speak to each other!”

    “And by the looks of things, you two don't speak to each other either!” you exclaimed. “She just yells at you and tells you what to do, and you sit back and pretend like it's okay!”

    “I can do what I want. Just because I try to listen to my girlfriend sometimes-”

 “Oh, Matt, give me a break,” you scoffed, slumping down in your seat, running your hands through your hair. “You're smarter than this. You're so much smarter than this – you know full well you aren't just listening to your girlfriend.”

    Matt bristled. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

  You clenched your jaw. Why was he being like this? Why was he being so clueless? There was no part of you that believed he truly did not understand, that he truly just thought he was being a caring boyfriend by doing everything his girlfriend told him to do. He was smarter than that.

    He just didn't want to admit it.

    You turned back to the GPS, pressing your elbows into the table and leaning your head in your palms. He wasn't going to listen to you – that much was obvious.

   +++

     The thing about Matt was that his job was his life.

     He did everything for the sake of the world. He stayed up until early hours of the morning trying to figure out a single line of coding that would jump start whatever piece of machinery he was having trouble with. He would risk his own life for the sake of the people he loved, and he let nothing get in the way of getting his job done.

    The argument the two of you had gotten into was forgotten almost as soon as his boots touched the ground. He had been silent for the remaining hour of the journey, but as soon as the two of you had landed and the mission had officially started, it was almost as if nothing had happened.

   “Stay close to me,” he demanded, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his side. “First step – find the entrance to the factory, find the systems room and get the information.”

   “Easier said than done,” you muttered, but you followed his every step nonetheless. You were the back-up in this situation; cover for Matt if things got a little too difficult. Whilst he was a whizz with computers and programming, you had been trained in the art of combat for as long as you could remember. You would be parading around the door, making sure nobody was going to attack Matt as he gathered the information you two had been sent out to retrieve.

    The factory in question was not difficult to find by any stretch of the imagination. Guards littered the doorways, the building towering over everything else. You could see the tip of the roof as you and Matt approached through the trees, could smell the smoke billowing from the many chimneys lining the tiled roof.

   You could also smell the blood.

   You shot Matt a startled glance; you knew what this place did, the amount of bodies that had been discovered and hidden by the Galra. You knew it was terrible, but the proof of it in the air was startling. Matt clenched his jaw, looked back at you, but neither of you said anything. You both knew what to expect – there was no point in making a big deal over it.

    You stepped out of the tree line and started towards the entrance. The suits you were both wearing would be enough to disguise you, help you blend in, but as soon as you started messing with the systems, suspicions would be aroused and the two of you would have to pick up the pace.

    “Agent Spears and Agent Givaldi,” Matt said as soon as you were both in front of the guards. They barely even glanced at the badges you were both holding up before the door was being shouldered open and you were granted much-needed access.

   You hesitantly stuffed your badge back into your coat pocket, leaned towards Matt and whispered, “That was too easy. Something's not right.”

   “Keep an eye out,” he whispered back.

   The hallways grew less and less crowded the deeper into the factory you and Matt went. You kept your head low as Matt nodded and interacted with the passing mechanics, scientists, evil geniuses that you came across; he was good at this kind of thing, pretending everything was okay when it wasn't, putting on a fake smile for the sake of others.

     You, on the other hand, could do no such thing. You pulled your collar a little bit higher around your jaw, picked up your pace until you and Matt had finally arrived at the systems room.

   Matt made to walk right past it. If it hadn't been for your quick reflexes, he would have done so, but you just barely managed to hook your arm through his and drag him through the metal door. You shoved him forward and quickly slammed it closed, pressing your back against it as rough pants rattled your chest.

   “Go,” you ordered upon realising that Matt was simply staring at the lines upon lines of computers currently flashing at him. He swallowed thickly, nodded and dashed off to the nearest one. His fingers sped across the keyboard as he put in the details he needed, his tongue slowly making it's way out of his mouth in that way it always did when he was concentrating. His brown eyes narrowed, and he ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

    You could have watched him forever when he was in this mindset, because it was one of the rare times he actually seemed at peace. Despite the risk of getting caught, despite the fact that you had just stolen the identity of two people who could very well be marching through these hallways right now, Matt was at peace because he was doing what he loved.

   But you couldn't watch him forever. Not now. Not whenever you heard the voices ringing out behind the door.

   Matt looked up, eyes frantic. Swiftly, you pulled your gun from the back of your dress trousers and whirled around, waving a dismissive hand in his direction.

   “I can handle it.”

   “They're early. By the time they get to the door, I won't have gotten in,” he replied. “Y/N, if we need to leave-”

   “I can handle it!” you barked. “Get the information. Fast.”

   Truth was, you weren't sure if you could handle it. The voices were getting louder and louder with each passing second. They would be passing the door soon, might just decide to look in if you and Matt hadn't been subtle enough – you couldn't risk that. You couldn't afford them getting suspicious and looking inside whenever Matt was elbow deep in their computers mechanics.

    The gun trembled in your hands. If they were to open the door, you would never be able to get a direct hit. Your aim would be off, lives would be at risk, the alarms would go off and you-

    “Have you got in yet?” you hissed, stumbling away from the door just as the heads of the passing scientists disappeared down the hallway. You nearly doubled over in relief, but used the energy instead to spin around and look at Matt.

    He nodded slowly. “I'm in but . . . there's so much to undo. It'll take hours for all of it to transfer onto the memory stick.”

     “We don't have hours.”

   “I know that,” Matt hissed, running his hands through his hair. “I can only take little bits at a time.” He looked up at you. “We're gonna have to come back another day for the rest.”

   You blinked, heart dropping into your stomach. “Matt...”

  “I know it's not ideal,” he said, already plugging the memory stick into the side of the computer. “But we have no other choice. If Shiro doesn't like the sudden halt in plans, then he's gonna have to find another way. Right now, this is the only option we have.”

   You didn't bother arguing with him; what could you even say? If he was unable to do it, then that was completely out of his control. Besides, the idea of risking another few minutes in this room, behind an unlocked door with Galra soldiers marching outside of it, had you uneasy. The quicker you got out of here –  information obtained or not – the happier you would be.

   Matt plucked the memory stick out from the computer after a few minutes, stuffed it into his pocket before dashing round the side of the desk and heading towards the door. You took one last hesitant glance back at the room before you followed behind him, making your way back down the hostile hallways.

   +++

     Never before had you been happier to see Team Voltron.

     Lance opened the doors and immediately engulfed you in a welcome home hug. You spluttered against him, but wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him back nonetheless.

    “You both went off the radar,” he said. “We thought we'd lost you!”

   “We had to take our jackets off to put on the blazers,” you explained, pulling away and flattening a piece of his hair with a fond smile on your face. “We left the tracking devices in the pockets of our old jackets.”

   Lance grunted. “Don't scare me like-”

    “Oh my God, there you are!”

    You squeezed your eyes closed. Of course.

   Caitlin stampeded through the array of people waiting to welcome you and Matt home, bouncing her shoulder roughly against Slav's and causing the poor man to stumble forward, just barely catching himself on Pidge's upper arm. She was wearing one of Matt's old jumpers, along with a pair of stained blue jeans and converse.

     She looked casual. She truly looked as if she'd been having a spa day whilst you and Matt had been out risking your lives for the sake of people like her.

   You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to look away before you could play victim to the sight of her crashing her lips against Matt's.

    “They told me about you going off the radar,” she said. “I was so worried, Matt. I thought I'd lost you.”

    “I'm fine,” Matt replied, a slight tremble to his voice that had you glancing over your shoulder to make sure he was okay.

   His eyes were wide, cheeks flushed and fingers slack against her waist. It was a direct contrast to the tight grip Caitlin had on his shoulders, caging him in before he had a chance to detach himself from her arms.

     “This is exactly the reason why I didn't want you going,” she huffed. “Y/N could have handled the mission perfectly well on their own. You had no reason to go.”

   “Y/N isn't a computer programmer,” Pidge scoffed. “Idiot.”

   Matt's eyes widened. You snickered, but quickly hid it with a cough as Caitlin whirled around to shoot a glare in your direction. She would never yell at Pidge – not with Matt in the room – meaning the first person she could release her anger on was you.

   You gave her a wary grin. “I'm afraid Pidge is right. We needed Matt today.”

   Matt placed a hand on Caitlin's arm. “It's okay, Cate. I'm fine. We're both fine.” He glanced up at Shiro then. “We might have to go back another few times to get the rest of the information.”

    Shiro started to reply, but of course Caitlin had to get her own comments in first. It started with a shrill squeal of shock before she was spinning on her heel and slamming her hands into Matt's shoulders.

   It could have been light hearted. There was every possibility that she didn't mean to hurt him, but you saw the way he winced, the way he stumbled back and bit his tongue in any attempt to keep his noise of pain at bay.

   Caitlin's eyes were wide with fury. “You didn't tell me that!”

   Matt blinked. “I didn't think it was-”

   “You know what? If you two bonded so well on this mission, why don't you just go off with each other, huh?”

   Matt's eyes widened. Your heart stopped, the crowd around you suddenly going eerily silent.

   “Cate-”

   “Don't call me that,” Caitlin hissed, slapping Matt's shoulders yet again. “I have had it up to here with trusting someone who would rather spend more time with some other person than me! I deserve better than that, Matt Holt! Much better!”

    “It's for the mission!” Matt exclaimed. Lance had already awkwardly ducked out of the room, Pidge and Hunk following close behind him. Shiro glanced at you, silently asking whether or not you wanted him to stay to keep track of things – you simply nodded towards the door, giving him all the permission he needed. He grabbed Keith's arm and steered him out of the room, leaving you alone with the arguing couple.

    “It just seems like you want to spend every moment you can with Y/N and not me,” Caitlin was saying. “Why should I put up with that?”

   It was that question that spiked your fury, the genuine tinge of betrayal in her voice. She had the nerve to ask Matt why she should bother with him when he had put up with her bullshit for months now. He had suffered through abuse and insults and being made to feel tiny for her to lose her mind over something as petty and childish as this.

   You gritted your teeth and risked a step forward. “Are you-”

   Caitlin whirled on you. “And you stay out of this, you bitch!” And then she swung her arm, her long nails raking across the flesh of your cheek. You cried out, stumbled back with the force of the blow – it wasn't so much her strength, but more the shock that came with the sudden slap.

   Your eyes watered, blurring your vision, but not enough for you to be unable to see Matt taking a step forward. He grabbed Caitlin around the waist, lifted her behind him even as she kicked and screamed and clawed at the air in any attempt to reach you.

    Matt set her down and immediately rushed to your side. You hadn't even realised you had fallen over until he was beside you, gently stroking the hair away from your neck, whispering words to you that made no sense past the thrumming of blood in your ears.

    Caitlin cried out. “Look at this! You go straight to them even though I'm right here!”

   “Would you just be quiet!” Matt suddenly roared. You flinched back, the volume of his voice stunning you – never before had you heard him be quite so aggressive. This was Matt you were talking about; sweet, delicate Matt who wouldn't hurt a single soul even if his life depended on it.

   He didn't cast her a glance even after he yelled. Caitlin was stunned into silence, her arms wrapped tight around her middle, her eyes firm on the back of Matt's head as she watched him help you up, one hand firm on your elbow to steady you. You could walk. You were perfectly fine bar the scratches currently oozing blood upon your cheek, but you stumbled nonetheless. The shock had gotten to you, the affects of the last two minutes making it difficult for you to even concentrate on a simple task such as walking.

   “Let's go. Come on,” Matt whispered, leading you out the door. He didn't look back at Caitlin, but instead directed you to his room, where he sat you down on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

   When he was gone, the ship seemed eerily quiet. You were so used to hearing Caitlin parading around the hallways, giving her usual orders or making her usual snarky remarks. You were used to hearing Shiro in the kitchen giving Lance a lecture on what he should and shouldn't be eating, was so used to Hunk and Colleen talking about the different kinds of plants that could be used within different recipes. You were so used to noise that the sudden silence had you feeling numb, unsure where to direct your thoughts.

   They zoned in on what just happened, no matter how hard you tried to get them to focus elsewhere. Matt's face. Caitlin's words. What she could have done had Matt not grabbed her. What she will do whenever Matt and her finally came face-to-face again.

   You shivered at the thought.

   “Pull my blanket over you if you're cold.”

   You jumped, head snapping towards the bathroom where Matt was standing in the doorway, busy stirring a tablet into some water.

   “I'm fine,” you croaked out. “You look a little shaken up.”

  He did. His eyes were now veined as he tried to fight back tears, his cheeks pale and sunken in.

   He glanced up and shrugged, wading over to you with the cup in his hand. He placed it on the bed side table before hesitantly lowering himself onto the mattress beside you.

    “I didn't know she was gonna go for you.”

   “I know you didn't.” You shrugged. “It doesn't matter. What's done is done now.”

     “You shouldn't be thinking like that. She hurt you, Y/N.”

   You bit your tongue; you so desperately wanted to bring up the fact that she had been hurting him from the very beginning of their relationship, both emotionally and physically. The manipulation you had seen Matt play victim to was scary, and the fact that he was so oblivious to it was even scarier.

   Matt sighed and trailed his hands through his hair. “I'll talk to her. I'll – I'll tell her to get help.”

   “She's not staying on this ship.” Even as you said it, you knew the decision was final. You had family on this ship, people you loved and cared for – you would fight till the ends of the earth if it meant getting her away from them.

   Matt froze. When he spoke, his voice was small and strained with his efforts of not crying. “She can change.”

    “She won't,” you replied bluntly. “She's had her chances, and you know that. So you can either go with her or stay – but I'm not putting my family in danger by keeping her here. Not any more.”

    Matt pushed his palms into his eyes, as if doing so could somehow push this conversation back. “I've been such an idiot, haven't I?”

  Your head jerked in his direction. “What-”

     “You told me on the ship today,” he said. “You told me I was smarter than this, and I am. It's just . . . . I thought I was in love, Y/N.”

   You swallowed thickly. This had definitely not been the direction you had been expecting the conversation to go. You had wanted to talk to him about this issue for months, but now that he was initiating it, every long-willed and emotional speech you had mentally prepared had disappeared into the back of your mind.

    “She treated me well at the start,” he croaked out. “We were happy. And then she got comfortable, thought she could start controlling me, and I let her. I just – did whatever she told me to because I thought that would stop her from lashing out. But then even doing what she said wasn't enough. I couldn't do the things I wanted to do without her getting mad at me, claiming I was leaving her out or favouring someone else over her.”

    “You were being manipulated, Matt. None of us understands how that feels. Nobody can blame you until they've experienced it themselves.”    Matt shook his head, lower lip trembling. “Why did it take her hurting you for me to finally realise who she is?”

   Your breath hitched, the scratches on your face suddenly burning. “I don't – I don't know.”

   “I've never felt so angry at her,” he continued. “She's thrown a glass at me, and I didn't feel as angry at her then as I do now.”

    “Matt-”

   “I'm not thinking straight,” he grumbled, standing up before you had a chance to grab for his arm. He stumbled towards the door, gripping his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck before letting it fall and cascade down his back again. “You can leave when you're ready. I'm gonna go and find some fresh air.”

  You made to stand up. “Matt, let's just talk about this. You can't go out there on your own. Not when you're like this.”

   He waved a dismissive hand in your direction, swallowing thickly. For a second, he looked like he was about to say something, but then his eyes fell to the floor and he shook his head, leaving you behind with not a single word spoken.

   +++

     They were arguing again. It sounded bad. Worse than before.

   You were sat upright in bed this time, leaning your head back against the wall with your eyes closed. The covers were draped over the top of your knees, even as they were bunched up to your chest, a way to stabilise yourself as you listened in to Caitlin's screaming and Matt's calm responses that never seemed to get him any further forward.

    Already two glasses had smashed. You heard them crash against the wall, followed abruptly by Matt saying, “You didn't have to do that,” as if his calm and collected demeanour was going to do anything at all for the fury Caitlin was feeling. Caitlin had laughed at him, called him stupid before she went back to screaming at the top of her lungs over something you had yet to catch on to.

    You had a fairly good idea, though. It had to be about earlier, about Matt protecting you over her. There was no other logical explanation, nothing else Matt could have done that would have angered Caitlin so much.

    It must have been around one in the morning when the argument finally started to cease. Caitlin got quieter, no more glasses were being smashed, Matt had gone completely silent-

   And then something crashed against the wall.

   You jerked upright immediately, pure terror sinking through your body. You were scrambling out of the covers before you even had a chance to comprehend what was going on, throwing yourself towards the door and yanking it open just in time for Matt to yank his own bedroom door open and come flooding out. He didn't spare you a glance when he turned the corner and all-but-sprinted down the hallway.

   Your eyes flicked to the open door. Caitlin stood there, gripping the door frame with whitening knuckles, panting heavily. There was blood on her palm, a piece of glass dropped to the floor beside her; she looked insane. She looked utterly, completely insane and there was a side of you now that wanted to dive towards her and pummel her.

     But you glanced back down the hallway to where Matt had just fled, and you realised that he was much more important than her.

   You turned back to Caitlin. “What did you do to him?”

   She looked up at you through the tips of her eyelids, her dark hair scraggled and hanging in her eyes. She didn't give you a proper answer, merely shrugged and said, “I'm sure he wants you right now, so you can find out then.”

    You didn't have time to argue, didn't have time to piece together her snide little comment. You shoved yourself off the door frame and dashed down the hall towards Matt, heart thumping at a million miles per hour; he was going to be hurt. He was going to be hurt, and heartbroken, because maybe now he had finally come to terms with the truth. No matter how evil you saw Caitlin, no matter how evil she genuinely was, Matt had loved her at one point. He had been so deep beneath her spell that, despite the abuse she had given him, he still would have gone to the ends of the earth for her.

   You rounded the corner, and there he was.

   Curled up at the end of the hallway, half hidden behind shadows cast from the window above him. He rubbed at his wrist roughly, something he always did when he was fighting off the urge to cry; you had seen it many of times, and every single time, it completely broke your heart.

    “Matt,” you choked out. He didn't look up. He didn't really need to. He simply closed his eyes and let his head fall forward, letting the first few tears slip down his cheeks. He was with you now. He could cry if he wanted to.

    You kneeled down beside him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. He stopped rubbing his wrist, glanced up at you and shook his head; it was a simple gesture, one that portrayed his message perfectly.

   It's over.

   You nodded back, pulling his hand into your lap and intertwining your fingers with his. He shuffled closer to you, his knee clipping against your own, and the two of you sat in the warm comfort that came with the silence. Neither of you needed to talk. Neither of you needed to comfort the other person, or make up some bullshit excuse as to why you were sitting in a hallway with tears streaming down your face – just being there, with Matt by your side and his hand in your own, was enough for you. It was enough for both of you.

     Hours must have passed before the silence was finally shattered and Matt spoke up. His voice was groggy, thick with unshed tears and memories of what – you hoped – he was leaving behind.

    “I should have listened to you.”

   You rubbed your thumb against his own. “You don't have to think about her any more. I'll make sure – I'll make sure you're safe.”

    “I don't want pity.”

   “I'm not giving you pity. I'm being a good friend.”

   Matt closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

   “What did it?” you asked before your nerve could splinter. He creaked open one eye, pinched his brows together in confusion. You inhaled before elaborating. “What did she do this time that was so different from all them other times? What made you finally decide to leave?”

    Matt didn't stiffen, didn't shy away from the personal question. His grip on your hand tightened that little bit more before he opened both of his eyes and glanced down at your joined fingers. Bracelets hung loosely around his wrist, the string tickling your flesh but you did not pull away. Not when he started messing idly with your fingers, plucking each one and letting it snap back against his leg in a way you could only describe as childish.

   It was nice to see him relax for a change.

    “She threatened to kill you.”

   Your breath left you in one clean swoop. Your head snapped round, eyes wide and heart thundering – and yet you did not move, even though every instinct in your body was screaming for you to stand up and confront Caitlin before she could become even more of a threat. That was what you had been trained to do – dismiss the threat, get rid of anyone who may be willing to hurt you or your family.

    But you stayed beside Matt, staring at the side of his head as the world tilted and disappeared until it was only him that you could properly concentrate on.

    He pursed his lips, not looking at you when he continued. “She's not safe to be around. I should have realised that sooner, but – but before, she was just hurting me. Mentally, physically, but it was just me and I could deal with that. But then tonight...” He bit his lip, started messing with the ring on your finger. “Tonight she said she was going to kill you, and I snapped. I realised what you had been telling me was true the entire time, so I stormed out. She tried to throw a glass at my head when I was walking out, but I think she ended up cutting herself instead-”

   “She did,” you burst out, because you just needed to talk, just needed to say something. “She – She sliced her palm open.”

   Matt nodded. “I didn't go back even though I heard her cry out.” He looked at you. “That's – That's progress, isn't it? I can – I can get over her.”

   You had never been one for affection. You had been trained in the art of being completely heartless when you needed to be, but it was different with Matt. You reached over, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug before you could think about your own actions – and it was natural.

   His head dipped into the crook of your neck and it was there that he started crying. There were no sobs, no racking shoulders and hysteric screams. The only sign you really had that he was finally letting go was the damp tears sliding onto your flesh. You reached up and ran your hands through his hair, letting him cry because this was what he needed. It was what he had needed for months, and you were honoured to be the one he trusted enough to finally let it happen.

   +++

    “Happy Valentines Day!”

    You looked up, startled at the sudden loud noise that had emitted from the doorway. With your headphones dangling around your ears and your sweatpants rolled up to your knees, you did not look ready to go on a surprise Valentines Day date.

    Which seemed to be exactly what Matt had planned.

   He stood in the doorway wearing his Spiderman pyjamas, an unopened cake in his hand alongside a bottle of wine that you knew neither of you would finish. It was the same every celebration – Matt would spend plenty of money on alcohol, only for you to both get so absorbed in conversation that you would forget about it until it no longer interested you.

   Your computer and the work within it went ignored as you stood up and dashed towards the door, grabbing the cake out of Matt's hands. He smiled at you.

   “That's the first thing you grab for?” he teased, raising a brow.

   You grinned, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips before you span on your heel and dashed back towards the bed, flopping down upon it with the boxed cake balancing on your knee. “Where did you find the time to do all this?”

   “It wasn't difficult,” he replied, sitting down next to you, pulling two forks out of his back pocket. “Not when you've been working all day. I've barely seen you.”

   You sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm a bit behind on work, and-”

   “Don't apologise,” he scoffed, shoving the fork into your hand. “I can see you now, and that's all I care about. Now, let's eat.” He stretched out across the bed, placing one hand behind his head. “And tell me all about how your Valentines Day without your boyfriend has been.”

   You rolled your eyes. “You really know how to make a person feel bad.”

  He grinned. “I'm teasing. I know how hard you work.” He sat bolt upright. “But from here until tomorrow morning, you're not doing any more work. We're gonna take as many hours out of Valentines Day as we possibly can, whether we-”

    You cut him off by crying out, the cake on your fork having spilled and landed directly on your shirt.

    Matt's flinch was unmistakable, as you had seen it plenty of times before. His entire body jerked, his hands flying up to cover his face as if he expected you to swing for him – it broke your heart every time it happened.

   As soon as his eyes met yours and he realised what had happened, he relaxed. He rolled his eyes, pretending he hadn't just completely lost himself for a moment in believing you were going to hurt him. He leaned forward and started dabbing at the front of your shirt, shaking his head like a disappointed dad.

   But whilst he was used to his own reflexes, you couldn't let it drop like that. You stared at him for a moment, before reaching up and taking his hand in your own. He froze, shocked at the sudden movement, risked giving you a tiny, confused smile before you leaned in and pressed your lips to his own.

   He hummed against your mouth, eyes widening for only a moment before he pulled away and raised a brow. “What was that for?”

   “She's gone,” you whispered, and he froze. “You know I'd never hurt you, Matt. You don't have to be scared any more.”

   Matt's features softened with realisation. He hadn't even fully noticed that he had flinched, that he still flinched every time a loud noise sounded around him. It had been two years since Caitlin had been banished from the castle ship, and still the remains of her abuse lingered in the back of Matt's brain.

   He pressed his forehead to your own. “I know. It's reflex. I'm – I'm sorry.”

  “Don't apologise,” you said, quoting his previous words. “I love you.”

    Matt smiled, pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose before he whispered, “I love you more.”

[voltronshorts]

*holds up phone* you're doing great, sweetie :,) I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the Paladins find out their s/o is half galra, but they've been afraid the paladins would be upset with them if they found out so they try to hide their galran features (Like pointed ears and a tail; they'll cover any galran markings with a scarf or makeup)

SHIRO

The team comes across Galra ruins on a planet they’re visiting. There are etchings of Galra text on the wall, and you are walking along the wall, thinking no one had followed you this deep into the cave. You begin to read them aloud under your breath, finger tracing over them. Shiro watches you with wide eyes, and calls out your name. You jump, breaking out of your reverie, and turn to him. “Oh, Shiro! I’m…”

He’s a little surprised

But ultimately, it doesn’t change his opinion of you. He still adores you as his best friend and his significant other

He’s mature enough to know that the actions of some do not dictate the actions of all

Finds your Galran features quite cute, especially the ears and tail

Suddenly he notices more of your Galran behavioural tendencies

It’s endearing to him

He definitely would not mind if you brought some of your Galran strength and power to the bedroom ;) ;) 

To rearrange tHE FUNITURE!

Will ask for your help more on missions afterwards, especially if it involves Galra tech

KEITH

He finds out while both of you are together on a mission, hijacking a Galran transport ship. The sentries are hot on your heels and firing at you. You come to a closed door with a control panel on the side to open it. Keith is too occupied with staving off the sentries so without thinking, you press your hand to the control panel and the door opens. You and Keith run through, and it isn’t until much later that Keith realizes that Galran technology only responds to Galrans. So how did you…?

He’s unsure how to broach the subject, at first

He says your name unsurely, quietly. “How did you manage to open the door a while ago? Are you… are you Galran?”

You slowly unravel your scarf to reveal your markings, and take off your helmet to reveal your ears

They kind of bounce out of the helmet. (Keith thought it was really cute)

It makes him feel closer to you

He feels like he can connect with you more, like you both relate to the struggle of learning about the Galran culture

Compares Galran features out of curiosity

“So how come my ears are different? And how come my skin isn’t purple?”

“That’s how genetics work, Keith. It’s a 50/50.”

“Great. All the Galrans are over seven feet tall and I get my dad’s genes on that one.”

LANCE

He walks into your room looking for the peel-off mask he leant you. He checks your room but you’re not there, but he does hear noises coming from the bathroom. He calls out your name but you can’t hear him, so he approaches the doorway quietly so as to not startle you.

You’re at the sink, washing your face, presumably to prepare for bed. You’re patting your face dry, and when you straighten up to examine yourself in the mirror, you see Lance in the doorway

The characteristic stripes on your face are undeniable

“Y/N, you’re Galran?”

You nod slowly, unsure about how he would react.

Bolts to you and takes your face in his hands. His eyes are wide and overflowing with adoration. “Oh Quiznak, you’re stunning.” His thumbs trace the marks. “Do you have other Galra features too?”

Thinks your other features are just as stunning

“Oh, please never cover your marks again,” he says wistfully. “I love all of you. Everyone will love all of you. But most importantly, you should love all of you.”

He’s so curious

Wants to hear about the other side to Galra culture–perhaps what life was like before the war

HUNK

Both you and Hunk thought it would be a good idea to watch an old DVD you found at a flea market on a recent restocking trip to a nearby planet

You didn’t think it would be anything interesting, but just bought it as a cool relic from Earth. You and Hunk thought it would be some cheesy soap opera romance, based on the title, which was scrawled in clumsy English on a piece of tape (the cover image was too badly worn to see)

Too bad: it was a copy of an old 2000s movie called Marley & Me

You’re both bawling

You wipe at your face, inadvertently wiping off some of your makeup. Some of your Galra markings become visible, and Hunk leans in with wonder plastered onto his face. “Y/N…”

His curiosity is insatiable

Will ask all about everyday Galra life

It doesn’t really change what he thinks of you. He still absolutely adores you

Will crack Galra jokes, but all in good fun

“ Galra, ah-ah-ah! Ro mah ro-mah-mah, Galra oh-la-la. Want your Gal-romance” “Oh Quiznak”

“Y/N, come try some of the Zarkon-fections I made”

Thinks your Galran features and tendencies are so adorable

Takes lots of selfies and pictures for himself and also to show you off to other people

Loves to pat and play with your ears

Thinks it’s so endearing when they twitch and reposition to match your mood/thoughts

PIDGE

She was up late one night trying to match a Galra symbol to a location. She’d seen it over and over on multiple Galra ships and weapons but she can’t match it to anything. You come in to check on her, pressing a kiss to her hair and asking her to take a break. Your gaze slides up onto the monitor and, without thinking, you murmur, “Oh that’s the logo for a weapon and ship production facility near the Karthulian System.” Your eyes rove over it.

You don’t notice you’ve said that until you look down and Pidge is looking at you with wide, adoring eyes. “Woah.” You could practically see the hearts in her eyes. “Wait. How did you know that? I scanned every database I had access to but couldn’t find that. How did you…?”

“Well, Katie…”

Out of all the team members, she would probably be the least fazed

She’d think it was really cool, but what you look like doesn’t really matter to her

She loves you most for your personality and your mind

Curious about how your senses differ from a normal human’s

“So can you hear frequencies we can’t?” “I think so. I think my hearing is more sensitive too. I can hear Lance in the other room.” “He’s on the training deck on the other side of the ship!” “Yeah?” “Thats amazinglaasjfkjk”

“Can you see outside the visible spectrum?” “Not sure. I can see temperature, though?” “AHDFJDHKSJ”

Will definitely want to have really late night conversations about Galra culture, though. She’d want to learn all about it

You’re both laying in bed or on a makeshift cot on the floor of the bridge, watching the stars. The only source of light are the twinkling celestial bodies and faint glow of the surrounding monitors. The only ambient noises are the humming of the castle engines and the sound of her breathing and yours

Even if you’re close to falling asleep, she’ll keep asking questions

And because you love her, you humour her

[froldgapp]

Chapter One Chapter Two

Chapter Three

I love you.

There are birds squabbling on the balcony outside when Shiro wakes; small brown sparrows that dance around the feeder, pecking at each other. He watches them mindlessly for a while, eyes slipping closed and easing open again as he emerges from a warm and fretless sleep. A fat chick sits on the balcony wall, flapping its wings and complaining hungrily at its mother who pecks up seed while simultaneously fending off other sparrows. Shiro smiles lazily, huffing through his nose. He’s always loved common birds. It hasn’t even occurred to him to miss them until now. He’d have gone mad, he muses, if he’d thought about the tininess of birds in the Imperial Arena.

And there it is: the realisation. He is home. He is home in a house he knew a lifetime ago. Adam’s house. The taupe walls, simple pine furnishings, cobalt-blue potted aloe and monstera plants, and the over enthusiastic philodendron that spills across a faded and framed Paris is Burning poster. His poster. There was a time, before space and lions and death and undying, when this house was his as much as his own. The thought makes him queasy. He drags himself upright, fine linen sheet spilling into his lap. A radio plays Dusty Springfield’s “Just a Little Lovin’” from the kitchen. Just as well. It’s time to face the music.

‘You’re up,’ Adam says in his direct, dry way, when Shiro slips into the kitchen. Standing at the stove sauteing onions, he directs a wooden spoon at the pan. ‘Bet you're hungry. Bread’s baking. Coffee’s on the table. There's no cream and sugar, I'm afraid. I assume you still have a horrible sweet tooth.’

Shiro chuckles. ‘I am and I do.’ He pads across the floor in his boxers and a shirt, scratching at his belly. He drops himself onto a stool at the breakfast bar and almost leaves his body all over again at the rich smell of coffee. He pours himself a cup, wishing he could hold it between both hands. He notices the blankets piled up on the couch where Adam must have slept, but doesn’t remark.

‘You sleep all right? I’m poaching by the way. Hope that’s okay.’ Adam reaches over and expertly cracks four eggs into a simmering pot of water. ‘Almost done here.’

‘I –’ The domesticity is abruptly overwhelming. Adam, the egg maker and heartbreaker. He was going to marry this man. He loved this man. This man who was not at the launch. The final, damning conversation is clear and bright when Shiro prods at the memory like a tongue probing a painful tooth. But Shiro, pro-compartmentaliser, sips at his coffee and nods. ‘I did.’ He purses his lips and fails to meet Adam's fleeting glance of concern. ‘This coffee is amazing. More than amazing.’

‘No coffee in space?’ laughs Adam, scraping the onions into a bowl and flipping open the lid of the bread maker. The smell of freshly baked bread is sinful.

‘Nope,’ says Shiro. ‘Just goo.’

Another laugh, surprised. Cynical. ‘Goo?’

‘Yeah, I mean. Like a… kind of a… sustenance… I mean…’

Adam turns and waits as Shiro attempts to stutter out an explanation. The pot begins to boil over and Adam returns his attention to the eggs. ‘Sounds fun,’ he says, like a father humouring a blabbering child.

A plate laden with tomatoes, mushrooms, greens, bacon, eggs and capers, bread and potatoes is placed in front of Shiro.

‘Enjoy,’ says Adam. ‘It’s no goo, but… Oh Shiro.’

Shiro, knife in his left hand, is making a bad show of spreading butter on his bread. It scrapes around the plate, shoving oily mushrooms off the edge and onto the granite tabletop. He pulls his upper lip between his teeth and pushes a calming breath through his nose. He wishes Adam would crack a window. His shirt is beginning to cling to him and beyond the window the morning looks crisp and vital.

Adam tuts and slips around from his seat. ‘Let me.’ He gives Shiro’s shoulder a squeeze and lifts the knife from his hand.

‘Those kids really shot up,’ Adam speaks absently as he spreads butter. ‘Even Gunders– Holt.’ He picks up the fork and begins cutting up the bread and bacon. 'There!' he grins, a little shakily, and returns to his place. 'Keith looks well. Different. I'm sure he was thrilled to have you in close quarters up there.'

The name is a klaxon that makes him feel dizzy where he sits. The savage new scar hangs like an after image in front of him. He's fine. Shiro closes his eyes and raises the mug to his mouth with a shaky hand. ‘Where is Keith?’ he asks. He’s fine, he tells himself again and again. He tries to recall leaving the black lion, but all he sees is crowds and sun flares, a desert rushing past a dirty jeep window. ‘I guess he went to meet his mom? I was so out of it when we left...’ He’s fine. He’s fine.

Adam stops and raises incredulous eyes to Shiro. ‘His mom? Shiro, isn’t Keith… Isn't he an orphan or close to it? His mom skidaddled, no?’

Distracted, Shiro sucks down another burning mouthful of coffee. ‘Something like that… She's...’ An alien. It's not his news to tell and more than that, there is something in the plainness of the morning and Adam's forced homeliness that gives Shiro pause. Would he understand? Would the Garrison?

‘I didn't see anyone that might have been his mom. Asked him to tag along but kid hung back to watch the lions or something. He’s still as glum as I remember. Guess he –’

‘Can you drive me back?’

Adam sputters. ‘Back? Shiro, you just woke up. You need to rest. Your arm...’

Shiro is already dropping from his stool. His new kit bag is leaning against the wall, Garrison fatigues peeping out. He strides over to it and pulls out a pair of joggers. ‘I have to go back. Can you drive me back?’ There is no response, so he looks up and asks again, voice edging into panic as he struggles into the joggers.

‘Shiro…’ Adam entreats, mouth gaping like a fish. He gestures at the breakfast. ‘You have to eat.’

‘I have to go.’ He can't pull the drawstring closed.

‘Keith is fine. You're not. Look at you, you can barely dress yourself. You need to eat and rest.’

'I need to see if he's okay.'

'Keith is fine,' Adam blusters. 'I thought you'd both have grown out of this by now. Your project is fine. He chose to be alone, Shiro.'

‘I want to go, Adam. Will you drive me? Please?’

Adam’s cheeks and neck are red. He sucks in a breath and raises his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I’m not driving you anywhere until you look after yourself.'

'I want to go. I'm going.' Shiro says, growling when the pants slip again. He yanks on the drawstring and tucks it down his front.

'God damn it, Shiro!’ Adam slams his hand down on the granite bar top. The plates jump. The kitchen becomes a vacuum. Even the birds outside seem to have been startled off.

Shiro watches Adam with steady eyes, turns and picks up his bag. Eyes burning, as if he hadn’t slept at all, he trudges to the door.

Adam snorts, disbelieving. ‘You’re in the middle of the desert. You can’t walk there!' He snatches up both plates and begins shunting still-steaming food into the bin. 'You’re… You haven’t changed at all! You’re impossible.’

'Okay,' says Shiro.

'Impossible. What a waste.'

'Okay.'

'You don't know what's good for you.'

Shiro hefts the bag on his shoulder and unlatches the door. ‘Goodbye, Adam.’

OoO

Shiro learns something that day. In her own way and for entirely personal, non-war related reasons, Red is a powerful advocate and one he’s happy to have on his side. Black, majestic against the red mountains surrounding the Garrison needs some convincing before she lets him in. Standing with a greasy bag of doughnuts in his hand, skin red from the strengthening sun and already dripping with sweat, Shiro begins to panic that he’ll have to wait out the morning until Keith wakes up. A few Garrison students have started collecting along the perimeter fence where the lions are sealed off. Some wave, others stare. There are more than a couple I love yous. He appeals to Red, whose eyes light up at once. A hardy knock of her head to Black’s shoulder, and the larger lion lowers her impressive maw. ‘I wish you ate doughnuts,’ Shiro says to the red lion as he climbs the ramp. ‘I owe you one.’ Red rumbles and draws her head up again, eyes powering down; first one, then the other. Shiro considers it a wink.

Black’s interior is cool, her lights pulsing dimly. It is utterly silent. Shiro makes his way up the familiar channel towards the cockpit, careful not to make a noise. The cockpit door hisses upwards. The space within is much darker, the lights a sombre glow. A pair of yellow eyes blink at Shiro who makes a shushing noise and brings his finger to his lips. The bag of doughnuts crinkles and he flinches. Uchu’s thick ruff shimmers with mild bioluminescence. She’s excited. For food or Shiro, it’s hard to tell. Her tail thumps once. She licks her chops.

‘Hey,’ Shiro whispers. ‘Shhh.’

She mruffs without much gusto and lowers her head to a mound of blankets. There, curled against her, is Keith. Shiro’s heart fissures. ‘Oh, Keith,’ he sighs.

Dark hair spills like ink across one outstretched arm, while the other lies against the wolf, fingers buried in her fur. In a little pile near his head are empty energy bar wrappers and a squeezed-dry juice box. Simple emergency blankets are piled on top of him and clumped around his waist where Uchu’s dark muzzle rests. His exposed back is corded with knotted muscle, criss-crossed with various scars that gleam in the low light. Now that Shiro knows Keith’s Galra heritage, the tell-tale signs are there: a narrow runner’s waist and shoulders broad like a swimmer's. Large, elegantly fingered hands, two broad, flat feet peeping out from under the blankets. An ability to sleep anywhere, in any position, bonelessly, as if poured onto the ground. It's a powerful body. One made to move and dance and charge and survive. This body has punished itself to save Shiro again and again. He remembers how solid, how strong this body felt as the not-him tackled it through space. He cannot see the scarred cheek, and for the moment, he's glad, selfishly.

Keith's trusty red jacket is a makeshift pillow. God, how he loathes that stupid jacket. Shiro laughs quietly through his nose.

You love him.

His fingers spasm on the paper bag. Keith moans and turns onto his back. His neck is long and pale and lovely, his lashes dark and thick. Lips parted, Keith pulls in a breath that expands his whole chest and holds it. His eyes open before he breathes out again. They widen and cant to Shiro, chalky primrose then white again in a literal blink of the eye.

‘Shiro,’ he says, voice thick and deep. ‘Are you okay? Did something happen?’ He pushes himself onto his elbows and the blankets drop to reveal a hard plane of pale flesh, a criminal trail of dark hair.

Shiro’s stomach drops into his shoes. What he plans to say is Yes, I am okay. No, nothing happened. But what emerges instead is: ‘I brought nuts. Doughnuts!’

‘Doughnuts?’ Keith says, trying to fight off a roused and furiously licking Uchu from his face. She is relentless forcing Keith to wrestle her away with toned arms and engaged core.

‘Hot,’ replies Shiro. He closes his eyes: attempts composure. ‘They’re hot. The nuts.’ He wants to scream. ‘Doughnuts!’

‘Thanks?’ Keith says sleepily. He accepts fate and lets Uchu bathe him in slobber. The wolf yips twice and buries him with her bulk. He makes a strangle argh! noise and submits himself, though one hand emerges and makes grabby gestures. Shiro opens the bag and drops a doughnut into it. Keith reaches up and blindly shoves it into Uchu’s mouth. She scrabbles off him immediately and teleports into the far corner in a shower of sparks. Her fierce eyes are watchful lest Shiro try to reclaim the doughnut. ‘She's a big sugar fan. I'm sure she's not allowed that stuff, but...,’ Keith shrugs and climbs to his feet. The interior brightens with his luxurious stretch, just in time for Shiro to see the length of leg, the dramatic dip of the back, two deep dimples above the boxers that you could honest to God drink shots from.

Bones popped and hair shaken into an even more impressive mane, Keith ambles towards a gawking Shiro and smiles up at him, waiting for a hapless nod of permission before he digs into the bag for a doughnut. 'You didn't have to, but thanks. I'm starving.' He pulls a plain one out and pops it in his mouth.

He groans with pleasure, his eyes slipping closed on the first bite. He speaks around the doughnut, still clamped between his teeth. ‘This is am–’

‘I love you.’

Shiro, in his defense, is just as shocked as Keith at the words, but as he has yet to select his doughnut, he does not start choking, which Keith does presently.

Keith sucks on air but it clogs against the doughnut, kicking off a bout of violent coughing. Pieces of pastry fly free and spatter against the floor and Shiro’s shirt. Uchu doesn’t waste time in teleporting back and hoovering them up.

‘Oh my God!’ Shiro cries and throws himself at Keith who is doubled over and hacking. He thumps Keith’s back once, twice, three times and the ball of mush dislodges itself and splats onto the floor. Uchu eyes Keith, giving him perfunctory notice before she snuffles it up noisily.

‘Gross, Uchu,’ Keith wheezes. He draws himself up and stumbles against Shiro, hands clamping on to his shoulder and bicep. He coughs against his own shoulder.

Wide-eyed and deeply grieving the absence of Black’s powers of dematerialisation, Shiro holds Keith steady. He grimaces at Keith's watering eyes and flushed cheeks. ‘Why,’ he mutters, ‘are these things precipitated by me trying to kill you.’

Recovering, Keith draws himself to full height. He’s still a few inches shorter and that means he still looks up at Shiro with those large bright eyes that could sear a hole into the sky. His fingers tighten and loosen on Shiro’s skin, cat-like and familiar. ‘You have a terrible sense of humour.’

‘Yes,’ Shiro agrees. He tries to think of something else to say, but he can’t: he realises they’re standing as if they’re about to break into a waltz. All he can think of is how his hand would feel against the taught strip of Keith’s waist. He swallows. Uchu noses at the bag of doughnuts. He lets her take it and she teleports away again. He doesn't care. He can’t not look at Keith. Can’t not think of Keith.

‘These things?’ Keith asks, starting up at Shiro who looks back dumbly. Keith's freckles are divine. His nose is divine. His eyebrows are divine. Hair divine, lips divine, large and perky ears divine. Snaggletooth divine. Scar divine. Shiro wants to kiss them all. He wants to worship them all and tear at them all and keep each and every inch of this person warm and safe and loved.

‘I remember,’ Shiro breathes. He has to lick his lips before continuing. ‘What you said. I remember. And, Keith…’ He can barely breathe. Keith’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. His eyes are pools of hope; the purest things the universe has ever known. ‘I need to tell you. I –’

Fingers tug at Shiro’s shoulders as Keith levers himself up, pressing mouth to feverish mouth. Shiro freezes, chest close to combustion. When Keith draws back, he's trembling. ‘I’m sorry. I’m – Aw hell. I shouldn’t have done that. Just... I needed to... Just one time...’ He collects himself with a deep breath, as though standing in morning call, Iverson barking in his face. 'Shiro, I'm sorry. That was –'

Shiro laughs. ‘You didn’t even let me say it!’

‘Say… it? Shiro?’ His voice is shaking.

Shiro’s fingers make dents in Keith’s slim arm. ‘You’re hopeless. We’re both hopeless.’ He drops his head against Keith’s shoulder, laughing again. Sweaty, breathless. He feels Keith go rigid against him, arms pinioned against his side. Shiro pulls at the long hair that curls around Keith’s neck, pulls back, and looks into those violet eyes.

‘Keith Kogane, I love you.’ The confession is rushed and airless, but Shiro perseveres. He wants to say it and keep saying it until Keith believes it. ‘I love you. I love you.’

‘But… I thought… I’m… I thought Adam… You and Adam...’

'It's finished. It's been finished since Kerberos.'

'But he's so... nice. Good.'

'Keith, you're a literal superhero.'

'I'm not. I'm just... I'm only me.' Keith gestures at himself as if there's anything "just" or "only" about him. No, Shiro thinks. Just and noble paladin. My only.

‘I love you. I love you, Keith.’ With nothing except his whole world to lose, Shiro yanks hard on Keith’s nose. He squawks and bats the hand away. He looks sincerely spooked. It doesn't matter. ‘I love you!’ Shiro roars, losing himself to a strange giddiness. He wants to say it until he's hoarse. He wants to scream it to the lions, the paladins, Coran. Put Iverson in a headlock and make him listen. ‘I love you!’ he howls, throwing his head back and drawing out the oo so long that Uchu perks up and joins in the chorus from amid her mess of doughnut crumbs and torn paper.

There it is, a barest spark of flint in Keith's eyes all dancing with emotion. God, God. Shiro loves him. Keith’s eyes narrow. A wry smirk follows. ‘I love you,’ Keith says. A laugh bubbles free. 'I love you. I said it first.’

‘You did. You're braver than me. But it doesn't matter. I love you,’ Shiro laughs bodily as Keith shakes his head in bafflement. ‘I love you! I’ll keep saying it until you lose your mind and try to strangle me with your horrible jacket.’

‘My –!’ Keith buries his indignation in another kiss. Shiro kisses back and it’s as messy and as clumsy as it should be; warm and unselfconscious as a morning wrapped up in bed.

Shiro breaks off. ‘That’s how much I love you: enough to bear that jacket. I love you in spite of that jacket.’

‘Hate the jacket, love the man.’

‘Now you’re getting it!’ Shiro exclaims. They fall against each other like a pair of drunks, laughing and stumbling. Keith smells so alive; salt and sweat and sleep damp on his skin.

Spent, panting, thrilled, Shiro hoists Keith up with his left arm and waddles with him towards the nest of blankets. Uchu grumbles and darts out of the way as they tumble down together. Not to be put out for long, she joins in the scrum, covering Shiro in wet kisses and powdered sugar from her muzzle.

Past the onslaught, Shiro asks Keith, who lies beneath him, skin glistening like a field of stars, ‘Are you happy?’ 

‘Yes. I’m happy,' Keith snickers, bemused by the questions. ‘I’m happy, Shiro. Are you?’

‘I could be happier…’ He flicks Keith’s chin, tugs on his nose again. ‘Can you do something for me?’

‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t. You know that.’

'I know that. I know that.' His fingers work their way into Keith's thick hair. It's damp and full. Keith's skin jumps, his belly rises and falls like he's just gone head to head with the training bot for hours. 'Keith...'

An eyebrow quirks: 'Shiro?'

‘Can you call me “Takashi?”’

The universe is worth saving for a million reasons. Millions and millions of reasons. But amongst those millions, one shines like the North Star: the unfurling of a smile so pure, so full of love that everything aligns for a dizzy, delirious moment.

‘Takashi,’ Keith whispers, and pulls Shiro towards him, fierce and faithful, ready to be loved.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once bitten, twice stupid prt.42

Dinner was loud. It was chaos. And it felt like a weight off of Lance’s shoulder once they were done. No one had stabbed anyone. Nothing was broken. Matt and Rieva ate like civilised people, with Rieva even offering to help with the dishes. Sending the group off to relax in the living room, Shiro picked up the tea towel and Lance knew he was about to get “the talk”.

Filling the sink with water too hot for a normal human to withstand, Shiro at least let him get through the plates before breaking the silence

“So you and Keith?”

Lance cringed. He understood Keith didn’t want to lie, but with things so new, he’d kind of hoped he would... for a little while

“Yep”

“How did that happen?”

“I’m not really sure...”

“He didn’t see to know either”

Lance felt the dig. Shiro almost asking that question

“I guess it really changed when he drove me to Platt. My mother, well, you know she’s old. I was in... I was pretty upset and he drove me there. That’s when I turned into a bat”

“I remember that. He was freaking out”

“I gathered. I don’t remember what happened, but Coran made him see I hadn’t turned him. He looked after me for three days, then took me to see my Mami again. I know he’s your brother, but did you need to raise him to be so damn stubborn?”

Lance attempt at humour fell flat, much like he wanted to do. Kind of drop to the floor then crawl away from the conversation

“He was like that when I met him. I don’t know if he told you...”

“That he hasn’t had the greatest life because kids are cruel and he never felt wanted? There’s a lot Keith says, and a lot in the things he doesn’t say. He’d frustrating, stubborn, and quick to act before his brain catches up. His people limit is pretty much two, and if he doesn’t have his coffee he can’t human... but he’s got a big heart”

“I thought you’d bring him out his shell... I didn’t think this would happen”

Shiro didn’t have much right to complain. He had left Keith there

“Neither did we. We both thought Coran and Allura were daydreaming. Then Curtis started calling us soulmates... I’ve tried avoiding relationships all my life, then he comes in with his mullet and bad mood..”

“I don’t approve. And I’m not impressed that you didn’t take him to Coran when he started complaining about chest issues. Coran would have said something if he’d noticed anything during the checks he did on him... I haven’t been allowed to help him that much...”

“Yet you took him down an abandoned mine”

“In my defence, he climbed down after me. After I told him not to. He took plenty of photos down there”

“You really bought him a camera?”

Why did Shiro sound so shocked? He not only had a lie to sell, but Keith’s identity to protect and the man had been a lost puppy without his brother.

“Keith’s been stuck out here with nothing to do, and nothing of his own. It wasn’t fair he was left behind, so I wanted to do something nice for him. Coran told me I shouldn’t be training or pushing myself, which doesn’t give him a whole lot to do. He’s been doing plenty of normal human things. We went to movies in Platt. Hunk finally asked Shay out. Pidge roped him into one of her planning afternoons for a hunt that was not fun at all. We went drinking and he actually sang karaoke. He also tried to get into a fight, then threw up everywhere when we got home... but he’s been doing better. He’s not as angry when he first got here”

“No. I can see that... He’s my family...”

Lance cut Shiro off. Yeah. He got it

“I know. That’s why I told him that you two needed to talk. That he didn’t have to return my feelings and he should talk to you before we decided to date. I don’t have a good relationship with my siblings, so I’m not always going to get what goes on between you. But I don’t want to see him hurt. I don’t want him to feel obligated or pity because his blood triggered this change in me. I want him to live a good life and die old and happy. We’re not rushing things. We don’t want to rush things. But I’m serious in supporting him the best I can. He’s a grown man. He has his own job, money, and life. I don’t want him to be some pet kept on a short leash. All I want is for him to know he can be himself when he’s here and that I’m not about to judge him for it”

Shiro sighed, placing back down the plate he’d picked up to dry

“I need to know. Will having Matt and Rieva here endanger him?”

“Vampires have an evolved sense of smell. That’s why we don’t mix much. The same goes for werewolves. We have egos. A vampire who’s out of control is a vampire who’s let his ego go. I’m not in any hurry to start anything with Matt or with Rieva. Pidge is like a sister to me. You’re vouching for them, so I’m taking your word that this won’t become something. For his safety and yours, don’t come around when it’s a full moon, not the day before or the day after. If something happens, I can protect one of you, but I don’t know about both of you. Not from two werewolves, especially in a new environment. Curtis... it’s complicated. We didn’t get off on the best foot, but Coran sent him. I suppose because I’m closest thing to cursed and don’t want to harm anyone if I can help it. As for dating, we already know my teeth get in the way. We’ll treat it like anyone with a contagious blood disease does. If things cool off, then we’ll have an answer to what’s between us”

“And what if you lose control?”

“Even when I do, I seem to know Keith. I don’t remember anything from turning into a bat the first time. But it seems I clung to him. I’m sure Coran would say it’s due to our quintessence. I know when I shouldn’t be around him, and when to distance myself. I don’t know how many other ways I can swear I don’t want to hurt him”

“Accidents happen”

“I know. That’s part of the reason I didn’t want to admit how he makes me feel”

“And how’s that?”

“Almost alive... You should go join the others. Keith’s going to come marching in here expecting the worst. He gets a bit protective”

“He does that”

“One day it’s going to get him hurt”

“That’s why I can’t give you my full blessings”

Shiro wouldn’t be much of a brother or hunter if he simply rolled over on his human brother dating a monster

“I get it. I really do. Still, for Keith’s sake, I don’t want to fight with you. He loves you, and he needs you. No matter what he says”

“Keith’s isn’t like most people. When his heart breaks... he gets hurt ten, twenty, times worse than normal”

“I know. Like I said, there’s a lot in what he doesn’t say”

“I would prefer you waited before your relationship turned physical”

“We are. My body is going through changes and he respects that. Just like I respect him and nothing happened that night he was drunk, no matter how handsy he got”

“Drunk Keith is a bit...”

“Drunk Keith is a slut. Those are his words. That’s why I won’t do anything to break the trust he has in me. I don’t want him to live a life of regrets”

“I keep forgetting you’re older than us”

“Don’t remind me. I don’t enjoy looking barely legal”

“Coran can’t help?”

“Even if he could, I’d rather he help Curtis first. He’s struggling with his curse and it’s so cruel that he can’t control the things he says. His life’s been put on because of it. I’m sure he’s happy to have you here because he finally has someone who can reach out their hand to him. More importantly, do you know when Matt intends to reach out to Pidge? I’d like to let Hunk know so he can be there to support her”

“Matt was thinking of waiting a few days”

Great. He didn’t want to keep lying to his friends for that long... Pidge also wanted to go back and explore under the pub...

“Alright. I’ll work things out with him. I’ll finish up here”

*

Lance nearly didn’t head into the living room when he’d finished the dishes. Keith hadn’t come to check on him, he could hear Shiro attempting to draw his boyfriend into conversation with the others. Keith’s poor people skills must have been at their limit. Being the amazing host he was, Lance made up a batch of Hunk’s hot chocolate, making sure that Keith’d have enough milk for his morning coffees as he did. Feeling a little fancy, he got out his Mami’s favourite serving tray. It’d been a gift from all of them as kids. Well loved and well mended. All their names scrawled across the back. The “L” in Lance’s name drawn backwards. The “I” in his older sister Veronica’s name had a heart instead of a tittle. Rachel had a smiley grave. Marco had always had a flare for the dramatic, his name taking up nearly the whole back. Luis name was the neatest of all. Lance wasn’t so much of a dick as to scratch Luis name off... Not when Mami still loved the serving tray.

Loaded up with the twin jugs, cups, and cookies, Lance carried the lot into the living room. Rieva and Matt were cuddled on the rug. Keith had Blue in his lap, with Curtis and Shiro taking up the rest of his sofa. Hearing his voice, he found the group were watching Pidge’s videos. Lance felt more than a little embarrassed. Strangers watching were one thing, a group of people in his house watching him... was something else. Carrying the tray to the coffee table, Lance set it down carefully

“Thanks, Lance. It looks good”

Lance gave Curtis a thin smile, pained at hearing his voice droning on

“Hot chocolate made with lactose free milk and Hunk’s recipe. Help yourselves”

Nervously pouring a glass, Lance backed away, standing by the arm of the couch so he wasn’t in the way. Matt shot him as thanks as he got two glasses organised for him and Rieva. At least Matt didn’t think he was trying to poison him, not like a certain mulleted hunter the first time he gave him coffee

“Lance, wanna sit?”

Lance turned too look at Keith over his shoulder. Blue had been passed to Shiro, not looking happy about giving up Keith’s lap

“I’m good”

Keith might have told Shiro they were dating but they didn’t need to rub it in his face

“If Shiro moves over there’s enough space”

Now that Keith’s lap wasn’t offer, he felt strangely rejected. Warmth started creeping up from his belly... Now was not the time

“Actually, I’m going to head to bed. Yep. Goodnight all, see you in the morning”

Fleeing the room, the cup of hot chocolate made the trip up stairs with him. Slamming his door a touch too hard, Lance rushed to place his cup down on the bedside table. Downstairs Matt was making a comment about something sweet in the air, Shiro joking about it being the smell of the hot chocolate. Rieva agreed with Matt, adding how the smell made her hungry... Her tone saying what kind of “hungry” she meant. Lance seriously doubted they’d do anything to him, but the idea of two horny werewolves scared the fuck out of him. Striding across to his window, he opened it as wide as it went. He didn’t understand why these heat flushes had to keep happening. He’d made up with Shiro, and he’d made up with the others over dinner. Werewolves and meat was kind of a no brainer. Now he was supposed to be relaxing and getting to know them all better.

Stripping himself down, he was too hot for a pyjama shirt and opted for pants only. Given his naturally cold state, and the cool wind through the window, he should morgue slab corpse cold. He’d spent years witching his body would be warm, now he cursed it. The sun had barely been down the better part of an hour, and here he was going off to bed like a loser. Climbing into bed, didn’t help. Keith’s scent cling to his sheets, but the man himself wasn’t there.... and his stupid body want okay with that. The aching throb between his legs drew a whisper from him as wetness dribbled from his arse. Even with the distance, Matt could smell him. Matt colour smell him and the damn stupid mutt was growling over it. If he dared lay a finger on Keith, Lance was going to snap off the insulting digit, force it up Matt’s urethra then snap his dick off and feed it to him like some kind of “fingdicken”, operating on the same principle as a turducken. Maybe he could use bacon as an outer wrapping... kind of borrowing the spirit of “what’s in the box?”.

Slightly horrified by his own thoughts, he curled up up. He didn’t necessarily hate Matt. He just didn’t want Keith to be hurt. Shiro wouldn’t let Keith be hurt. Meaning his twisted thoughts never needed to form. Keith could take care of himself. An involuntary whimper escaped as the first cramp of need hit. Covering his mouth quickly, he listened for a response downstairs. Rieva was busy scolding Matt, the sound seemed to have escaped their attention. With his body like this, he was going to be forced to have a conversation he really didn’t want to have. They whole “hey, I’m not a werewolf but I kind of go into fits of heat” thing was going to make it complicated. Right now he wanted it to piss right off and never come back. He wanted to be downstairs with everyone else, getting know them and not seeming like a dick. Now he was hiding in bed too scared to jerk off in case he was heard. This vampire thing sucked.

[storiesbeyondthestars]

This is kinda random but what music do you think the paladins would be into? Ive heard about how Keith would like MCR and FOB and Hunk into classical. Thoughts?

Canonical answer: None of the above because they live really far in the future freaking post WWIII of all things, so music would be completely different.

Fun answer: 

...I wear bright colours and am as far from Keith as you can get and I love FOB, and when I was younger I liked a little bit of MCR, so like...I feel that just lumping things like that onto Keith is almost perpetuating stereotypes, if I’m honest?

Logically speaking, Keith probably didn’t have that much access to new music. I doubt he had a personal computer or phone or something. He probably just heard what others around him listened to and adapted. I could see him liking tiny bits of everything, yes, including some MCR and FOB. He’d probably have some kind of futuristic radio-station thing going on whatever he has, so he’d probably be exposed to whatever’s popular.

I could also see him sort of mirroring whatever Shiro likes too. I know my sister liked things because I liked them when we were younger, and we have almost the same age difference and Keith and Shiro (and Keith absolutely idolizes Shiro and puts him on a pedestal for the most part, you can fight me on that one but you will not win). 

Shiro would be torn between calming, soothing meditation music, and like, Evanescence. He’s got a super dry sense of humour, so he would absolutely stare Adam dead in the eyes and play Bring Me To Life. 

VAs usually know their characters pretty well. Bex said that a rock playlist would be blasting in the green lion so I’ll take her word on that, since the main storytellers were right there and didn’t disagree. 

Jeremy said Yanni too. And that’s classical music so like...apparently Lance would be the classical one? (Unless he was referring to something else and I’m just a dumb adult out of touch with things.) But also I think Lance would be almost the antithesis to Keith in this, where he consumes whatever’s popular without. 

I like to think that Hunk’s interest in other cultures kind of started on Earth? So I could see him liking music without lyrics, but given that he has both Samoan and African-American backgrounds (though they did not specify which African country), I think he would gravitate more towards that. Why not explore your diverse cultural background and all the rich art and music within it, right? 

...Also I kind of want Hunk to like some hardcore rap stuff with a ton of swearing just for people’s reactions because it would shock them to hear him going with a stream of curses. It’d be amazing. (Seriously, I’m not trying to portray any kind of stereotype, it’s literally just the thought of him swearing that amuses me.) Kind of like the faces around the classroom when our little old lady of a professor (in uni) said that she liked rap and would play it, swear words and all, at the beginning of every lecture. (She would even rap and be able to keep up with it, it was amazing.)

For some odd reason, I like to think that popular Altean music from way back when would have sounded like polka music, just because I can.

[fenfyre]

Be My Eyes - Part III

Part I    Part II

This time around the wait was almost unbearable. Mostly because Shiro didn’t want to admit to himself that he was waiting at all. But their second conversation had given him even more hope and the things he’d gotten to know about Lance, that he was great with children, was dedicated and hard-working and compassionate, made Shiro’s useless crush even worse. A few times he toyed with the idea to go out and find someone to hook up with just to get that pretty smile out of his head. But he’d never liked one-night-stands and besides, after the accident it had gotten much harder to pick someone up. Most people out for a quick fuck were deterred by the prosthetic. Not that Shiro cared too much. It had taken him years to pull himself together and get back on his feet, switch professions, become at peace with himself again. There hadn’t been much place for a relationship during that time, as focused on himself as he was, as he had to be. He’d always be grateful for the role Allura had played in his recovery and always regret that he hadn’t been able to offer her anything but his friendship in return. It was too late for them now, she’d found love with someone else and he was happy for them, no matter the bittersweet could-have-beens floating through his mind sometimes. But now that he was recovered and had reclaimed his life, found a job he enjoyed and friends he liked spending time with, it felt like he was ready for love as well.   If only his best shot at it wasn’t an elusive, beautiful man he had no chance of contacting on his own. It was late evening when his phone rang and Shiro dried his hand on a kitchen towel before tapping the notification. The last few calls had left him numb, the hope he’d only just found fading more and more every time it wasn’t Lance’s face smiling at him from his screen and even though Shiro felt his heartbeat pick up yet again he tried to shoo away the tiny flame of hope before it was snuffed out by reality. Instead of a wide smile the screen turned black and for a moment Shiro wondered if his phone had died. But then he heard soft breathing before a familiar voice spoke up. “Hey, I’m Lance. Thanks for...” “Hey”, Shiro breathed back, having to lean against the counter to support his suddenly weakened legs. What were the chances? “Nice to talk to you again.” There was a soft gasp and a rustling sound of fabric, maybe clothes or bedsheets and then Lance laughed, a sound that made Shiro’s heart clench with sweet longing. “Shiro! Oh wow, I was wondering if I’d uh … meet you again.” Shiro bit his lip against a happy noise. Lance had thought about him, about talking to him again. But there was something he was wondering about. “Is your camera broken? I can’t see anything...” “Oh, yeah!” Lance let out another laugh. “That’s why I called, I couldn’t remember if I turned off the light after my sister left and … I was too lazy to get back up and check the switch so … guess I know now, huh?” So he was in bed already and just didn’t want to get up again. The thought made Shiro smile, even though his stomach clenched nervously when he realized they’d hang up again very soon. He wouldn’t be able to stand another month or two of waiting for the next call, he had to do something, say something but before he could even open his mouth Lance was speaking again. “But honestly, how weird is it that I talked to you three times now? That never happened to me before! You might as well just give your number at this point!” The words were accompanied by another carefree laugh, Lance was obviously joking. But it was also the perfect pass and Shiro would hate himself if he didn’t at least try. It helped that he had literally nothing to lose. “Would that be … very weird? If I … gave you my number?” As soon as Shiro had said it he crumbled, hiding his face behind his hand. He’d been so smooth once. Years ago. Obviously that was not like riding a bike. “What?”, came Lance small, wondrous reply and he sounded so cute Shiro almost whimpered. Well, he’d started this, now he had to finish it. “You, uhm … you just seem like a … really great and, and interesting person. To be honest I … I was hoping we could talk again and I’d uh, I’d love to get to know you better. If you want.” There was a stretch of silence that seemed to last forever, broken only by Lance’s breathing and the occasional rustling sound of the sheets. “Get to know me in like … a gay way?” Lance finally asked and there was a hint of humour in his voice that Shiro just couldn’t place. He knew there was a big chance Lance wasn’t even interested in men and that he might just have made a huge fool of himself. But it had still been worth a shot. Was still worth a shot. “If that’s”, he began, licking his dry lips. “If that’s what you want...” Another stretch of silence, this one so long and unbearable Shiro let himself sink down along the counter and onto the floor, pulling both knees to his chest. Not like riding a bike at all. He felt and acted like a fumbling teenager all over again. Maybe that’s what years of only partly voluntary abstinence did to a person. Finally Lance talked again and when he did it was with a cheeky, flirty tone that made Shiro even more jittery. “Shiro, can I tell you something?” He didn’t have the energy for more than a weak “Hm?” but it was enough. “I’ve been using this app five times as much as I usually do ever since I talked to you for the first time. Every time I was hoping they’d connect me to you again. So can you please just give me your number?” Shiro didn’t compute for a long moment. He just sat there on his kitchen floor, face in his hand, breathing. Then a laugh bubbled up from his chest and he just let it spill over, laughing freely until Lance joined him, the melodious sound of his laughter music to Shiro’s ear. He grinned all the way through giving Lance his number. “Alright”, Lance smiled after he’d finished. “I’ll call you back in a minute, yeah? Then you can tell me all about how you’re not a 50-something year old pervert so my sister can sleep again at night.” Did … did that mean Lance had talked to his sister about Shiro? That was … adorable. “Sure, I’ll be waiting.” And wait Shiro did after they hung up, seconds ticking into minutes until his anxiety flared up again and he scrambled to his feet, starting to pace through the kitchen. Had he given Lance the right number? Why hadn’t he asked for a number in turn? What if Lance was just trying to get rid of him and didn’t even intend to call? What if Shiro had creeped him out and he’d uninstall the app and they’d never speak again? By the time his ringtone echoed through the kitchen Shiro had all but convinced himself Lance hated him. So he answered the call from an unknown number with shaking fingers. “Hey, I’m Lance”, came the casual drawl that made Shiro melt from the inside out, knees getting weak again. “Thanks for picking up. I’ll only need you for … hm, the rest of the night?” Shiro grinned, bit his lip, nodded slowly as that crushing weight of his doubts was lifted from his shoulders. “Sounds perfect.”

The End

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