#would prefer past tense but it worked out dor this one

[starfallproject]

Tekken character vignette pt. 1

Characters: Kazumi, Kazuya.

Word count: 165.

Kazuya is asleep when Kazumi slips into his room in the middle of the night. Her child looks peaceful in sleep.

Kazumi kisses his forehead. She looks fondly at her son, tracing her fingertips on his face, her own bearing a brittle smile. Her fever spikes prevented her from seeing her little angel for the past few days.

As she goes to the door to make her leave, a quiet rustle stops her.

“Mom?” the question comes out uncertain, she looks back to see Kazuya sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Go back to sleep, dear. You need it for the morning training,” she hears herself say. Kazuya looks confused but nods drowsily, and lays back in his futon.

Her hands shake as she closes the shoji door, knowing that if she gives in to her desire to go back and gather him in her arms, she would waver.

Her fists tighten, she has a mission to complete. It was a long time coming.

[littlespaceporgs]

i have a need for more soft plo my dear 💕 how abt “i wanted to say ‘i love you’ for the first time without stuttering, but that failed” with everyone’s fave kel dor? also i love you to the moon and back and am super proud of you

A/N: Yeah that’s right, I’m back mostly fully now and yes I am writing the requests I have! JJ - I hope you like this! I LOVE U TOO! It’s funny to start off with and then goes angsty and then goes super fluffy and is an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish. I was aiming for a little 500 word blurb... it stands at 1.7ish i think 💀

So if you haven’t been reading my Clone Wars Reacts series, you probably aren’t aware that I am a massive simp for Plo Koon (and others characters 🤦‍♀️)and if this is you deciding to read them here’s the link to my masterlist, which has all the parts posted already.   

Glimpse

Word Count: 1.7k Pairing: Plo Koon x Jedi!Reader Summary: Anakin running late, an awful sense of foreboding, and one thing that you were yet to say, mixed with a glimpse of a future you couldn’t have. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags for my loves: @peacelandbread @clonewarslover55 @libradusk @catsnkooks @mcu-padawan

The reasons why you agreed to go on a mission on Skywalker seemed to escape you at the moment. His plans, though working occasionally, had the reputation of heavy damage and being absurdly reckless. You did however, enjoy working with Ahsoka, though she could be just as bull-headed as Anakin on occasion. Maybe it was for her sake that you joined the mission?

The plan had originally been for you to lead a small troop of men in quietly, retrieve the data you needed, and then Skywalker would swoop in and distract them so that you could escape. The entry went well, and collecting the data happened without a hitch, but you were spotted on the way out and Skywalker was late. Again. And to make things worse, your comms stopped working a very long time ago.

“If you concentrated on getting out instead of what you’re thinking, we might just survive.”

Ah, that’s why you came on this blasted trip.

“Well maybe if you focused on this, instead of your sarcasm, we may live past the next 10 minutes, Plo.”

You’d known the Kel-dor for many years, almost as long as you’d been a Jedi, but the feelings you had for him were only a few years old, and started shortly after you began going on regular missions with him. He always had put the wellbeing of others ahead of his own, which was frustrating to no end, but endearing all the same. He knew that you had a way of overthinking every situation and very quickly becoming a ‘stress head’, so he always simplified the instructions and looked for the tell-tale signs of you steadily becoming unstuck. Always waiting for the clones to get on board an escape pod, making sure there were enough supplies, somehow always having all the answers and a witty response. It was the little things at any rate.

Like now for example, as you both knelt behind a box, trying to catch your breath, and he was trying to use humour as a way of distracting you from the very real possibility of dying by the hands of a droid.

You stretched up from your crouch and turned to look over the box. Oh shit, there’s an entire battalion of droids just a few meters – oh, and that one’s pointing- oh.

With a sharp tug, Plo pulled you back down, the blaster bolt whizzing past where your eyes had been only half a second ago. Despite not being able to see his eyes and mouth, he still gave you an exasperated expression.

“Be more-”

“I was fine! I saw it coming and I was going to move!” The Kel-dor ran a hand across his forehead, although, at this point he should be used to this type of behaviour from you.

Despite the joking and poking fun, your stomach was sinking further by the minute. As you just realised, if you stepped out, you would surely be shot instantly. A vast majority of the clone troopers had long since been torn apart. Swallowing, you closed your eyes, and leaned back resting your head on the box. There is no way either of you are going to surrender and get captured, but you both were aware of the fact that you likely weren’t making it out of this either.

Your shoulder was burning, and your ribs and abdomen ached, and there was a blaster burn on your leg. Another hand wrapped around your own, and squeezed it tight. Trying to stop shaking, you spoke.

“I – we’re not getting out of this one…” You turned your head and opened your eyes, finding his face. His eyes were turned down at the edges, and his shoulders were slumped the smallest bit. “Are we?”

Plo turned and took a similar position to you, not letting go of your hand.

“We must not think like-”

“Be realistic we-”

“It’s going to be-”

“Don’t- don’t you dare say it’ll be fine-”

“Skywalker-”

“isn’t coming! Or- or if he is, he’ll be too late!” you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking now, stuttering more with every word that came out.  Plo’s head hung and you could see the weight of your words hanging on him.

“At um – at least we’ll go out as we are, teasing the s-shit out of each other, you old man.” He let a laugh drift out of the mask.

“Don’t call me old, youngling.” You laughed back, smirking all the while. If you’re going to die here – if technically you wouldn’t be jedi – your heart raced at the thought. The code was – well if you’re dead you can’t very well follow the code, now can you?

“I- I um I love you.” As soon as it was out, you felt lighter and heavier all at once. His back straightened so fast the back of his head nearly whacked the crate. When he finally turned to you, his brows were sitting much further up on his face than what they had been before, so you traced every corner on his face with your eyes, just in case. His hand squeezed yours tighter.

“I- well I wanted to say it without stuttering, and preferably when we weren’t a few minutes from death, but well- I guess there’s really no time like the present?” He still hadn’t moved, frozen and staring at you. Oh, no. You waved your free hand in front of his face, trying to break his stupor.

“Plo? Are you-”

“I love you too.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand moving to his face instead, moving your thumb across his cheekbone. Idly, you noticed that he hadn’t let go of your other hand yet. His hand moved the hair from your face, smudging the ash and dirt also. With a hand on the back of your head, he gently pulled so your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes slid shut, and you concentrated on the feeling of warmth and light that this brought. If this was the last thing you remembered before death, then you would die happily. For now, you savoured the few seconds you had sitting there. You sighed, and opened your eyes.

“I – just-”

“I know.” You pulled away, and despite the happiness of a few seconds before, a sense of foreboding sat heavily in your chest. You swallowed harder, and moved to grab your lightsaber. You grasped it tight, and ignited the glowing blade. Next to you, you heard his blade reveal itself. Your muscles in your legs tensed, and you braced your shoulders. One more time. When you turned to him, he was still looking at you, with a sad expression that rivalled your own. You shuffled so you were instead in a crouch, ready to fight. Might as well go out swinging.

You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. For a second before you stood, you couldn’t hear anything. When you thought back and remembered it, there was the sound of droid’s legs and chatter, of occasional blaster fire of those who were left, and your lightsaber humming in your ear. At the time, there was nothing. You just kept staring at Plo, hoping that somehow, you’d get more of this, more than 5 seconds.

Faster than a blink, you got a glimpse of a future that could have been. Cold nights on Coruscant, wrapped up in blankets, watching the night sky past by. Daybreak, curled up in each other’s arms, feeling the glow of sun come in. On missions with small troops of trusted clones, being able to be open with your relationship. Sneaking around before council meetings, trying to savour what moments you could before missions. Feeling like young padawan’s again, running around quietly. Visions of you leaving the order, years from now, quoting being unable to stick to the code, Plo following shortly after. Of you building a home, your stomach steadily growing outwards.

And just like that it was over, and you were stuck with a reality of death.

Your throat burned and your vision blurred. Now.

And then Plo’s hand desperately grabbing yours and pulling you down again, a shrill beeping coming from his wrist. Your heart pulsed in your ears and you looked to the sky. Of course.

“Sorry, we were busy dealing with Ventress! How are you holding up?” A scathing laugh burst out of your throat. The droids were falling back, away from your position at the sight of the sheer number of Republic soldiers. You laid back on the dirt, feeling the sun on your skin, soaking up whatever light you could. It was only now that you felt the weight lift, where the light feeling of relief took its place. Plo begun to answer Anakin. You cut him off with a venomous tone.

“We’re a-”

“We’re alive, you’re late, and I am going to kill you, Skywalker.” There was an audible sigh that sounded suspiciously amused from Plo as he made to stand.

“I wasn’t that la-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.”

Plo’s hand reached down and hovered near your face, though you ignored it and shot up on your own, winding your arms around his neck. He softly grunted as you laughed and the realisations began to sink in. Maker, we nearly died. We were very nearly dead. You nearly had to watch the man you fell in love with die.

Whilst your mind rambled, he pulled apart, and was still brushing the hair from your forehead again. You hadn’t noticed, but he was taking in every freckle, wrinkle and scar you had, like you had been doing to him not too long ago.

You nearly died. Plo nearly died. You almost didn’t get to say – oh, no. You told him. You thought you were going to die and you told him. But now you’re not going to die. And he said it back.

He said your name and whisked you from the spiral. His leathery forehead leant down and pressed against yours.

“I love you.”

Maker, he said it again. You grinned, and pulled him closer. You wanted to say it one thousand times at the top of your lungs, and suddenly the glimpse didn’t seem as far out of reach as it had a few minutes ago.

“I love you too.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Painted Windows 11

Warnings: violence, trauma, allusions to abuse and noncon, isolation, torture, further tags to be added.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The cracks begin to show.

Note: I changed my mind because I don’t feel like my medieval Steve is ready just yet so I cranked this out instead. Hope y’all like this part and I’ll try to keep up as best I can. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Masterlist

You spent more than an hour folding paper with Steve. You found a few of the more complicated designs as he kept to the more simplistic ones. He seemed content and you felt as much. He made small talk as you worked and you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t aware.

You sat up and stretched your neck. You were starting to cramp from being hunched over. He raised his brows as he lifted his head and you gave a shy smile. You pushed yourself up and paced slowly around.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, just… stiff,” You touched your hips and turned away.

You neared the window and glanced out. The snow was thinning, the grass peeked out in patches. You wished you could open the window just to smell the mud and moisture. But you couldn’t.��

You huffed and turned back. Steve watched you placidly as you leaned against the window ledge. He tilted his head curiously.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing,” You lied. “Just stretching out the kinks.”

He glanced around. His eyes fell on your little exercise bike and he gave a pitiful look. Then he frowned and exhaled as he played with a paper butterfly.

“It’s been a long winter,” He remarked. “Too bad.”

“I wouldn’t mind the snow or the gloom,” You turned back to the window. “If only I could go out and smell the air; hear the trees; feel the wind.”

“Oh… you don’t go out?” He wondered.

You looked down and shook your head as you spun back to him.

“It’s not safe,” You said. 

“All the way out here? For a couple minutes? Who could could that hurt?” He asked.

“But…” You tried to argue but the thought of leaving the room had your heart in a titter. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t wanna go for a walk? Just around the yard?” He offered. “I’ll be there. I think I can keep you safe.”

“I don’t… I don’t have a coat or shoes,” You said. “How will I--"

“They’ll be a bit big but I’m sure Bucky has something you can borrow.” He suggested.

“But… if he finds out…”

“I can keep a secret if you can,” He smiled. “Come on. It hasn’t been this sunny in months.”

You clasped your hands together and wrung them. You bared your teeth nervously and swayed back and forth. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to get you in trouble. Really. I’m not supposed to--”

“You ever just wanna do something because it’s fun, not because it’s something you’re supposed to do?” He asked.

“Well I…” Never really had that choice, you thought. “You won’t tell him?”

“What Bucky doesn’t know, can’t hurt us,” Steve assured. “So, what do you say?”

You bit your lip and tried not to smile. You nodded and shyly looked down. You still wore your pajamas and the robe. “I should change first,” You mumbled. “I won’t be long.”

You wore a baggy coat and pair of oversized boots. You wrapped the laces around the ankles of the boots several times before tying them tight. You must’ve looked like some sort of duck as you stomped around. You didn’t mind as the prospect of a stroll outside made your nerves flutter.

Leaving your room was in itself overwhelming. You looked up and down the hall several times before you found the strength to go further. The stairs were another obstacle and the further you got, the more you felt as if you would dissolve into a cloud. Steve led you to the front door and opened it for you. 

He waited for you to go first before he followed. He pulled the door closed as you looked around the front yard. You were frozen in disbelief. The air was chilly but not bitter. You could hear the distant chirping of the birds who harkened the arrival of spring through the trees. 

Steve passed you and hopped down the steps. He turned back to you with his usual cheer. 

“Well, you coming?” He asked. 

You nodded and tucked your hands in your pockets as you ambled down the stairs in the large boots. With his long legs, he could easily outpace you but he kept his steps measured as he walked you down the drive. He was close, but not too close. Occasionally, his arm brushed against yours.

He turned and you followed as he guided you through melting snow and around to the back of the house. You passed the shed and the same tree you scaled in your escape. You didn’t look up at the broken branch or search for a sign of your failed flight. That was long ago. That was a naive girl who didn’t realise she had nowhere to go.

Behind the house was a small forest. You followed Steve as he led you to the trees and you glanced around at the barren sentinels. The peeling white bark of birch and the old creased skin of walnut and oak. You reached out to touch one and let it scratch against your palm. It was real. 

You could sense him watching you but he said nothing. Only stood patiently as you took the path a step at the time. You paused to examine a groove in a trunk or pick out a pine cone with a particularly pleasing shape. You would toss them back as you went along and carried on through the thawing brush.

He turned you down another thin trail, this one harder to see through the muck and snow. He held your arm to keep you from slipping and you squeezed together as he pushed past the thin branches. You heard the water ahead and gasped. He guided you to the small river and let you go.

“Oh,” You exclaimed and rushed forward. You looked down into the frigid water as it trickled slowly over pebbles. “Oh my god.”

He was only a foot away as he came up beside you. He watched you kneel by the river and pluck a rock to toss in. It sank with a plop into the shallow ripples and you repeated the act. You laughed like a child and grabbed a stick to drag through the water.

“Thank you,” You breathed as you looked up at him. “Thank you, I… I never thought…”

“It’s nothing, Dora,” He knelt beside you and watched the water fork around your stick, “I told Bucky he shouldn’t keep you pent up in there. It’s not healthy.”

“Well, he’s only trying to help me,” You looked away guiltily. Your body went rigid as you thought of Bucky. “You know, he’s just… if he found out we were here…”

“You worry too much,” He put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “If he did, I’d tell him it was my idea. It was, you know? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You were quiet as you flicked the stick out of the water and tossed it away. You stood and clapped your hands off on the jacket. It smelled like Bucky.

“So…” You began as you paced along the edge of the water. “You said you work with Bucky.”

“I do,” He rose but made no move to near you. 

“So why aren’t you with him now?” You asked.

“Well, sometimes it’s better we work alone,” He said coolly. “He prefers it really. We only work together in the sense that we work for the same people.”

“And you… kill bad men, too?” You wondered.

“You know,” He let out a long breath, “I try not to. I only try to save people… people like you, Dora, but Bucky… he has a different perspective. I’d rather see the bad men locked up and he’d rather see them, well, dead.”

“Oh,” You stopped and poked your toe along the edge of the water. 

Bucky’s job wasn’t to kill the bad men, it was to stop them, but wasn’t that the same thing? You recalled he said his orders were to kill you that day but it didn’t seem likely if his goal was to help people like you. You frowned as your thoughts stormed and bounced off each other wildly.

“So, what would happen…” You started but quickly swallowed your words. “Never mind.”

“What?” Steve asked as he took a step closer. 

“No, it’s stupid.” You said. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, Dora. As little as I know you, I’d say quite the opposite,” He smiled. “So ask me.”

You looked down and backed away from him. He didn’t try to follow you, only turned as you rounded him. You crossed your arms and spun to face him.

“If you found someone like me, would you have to kill me?” 

His face fell and his chest rose as he stifled a sigh. His jaw tensed and for a moment, he resembled Bucky; steely and dark. He shook his head as his blue eyes flicked away.

“No, Dora, no, I wouldn’t,” He said. “We don’t kill innocent people otherwise we’d be as bad as those we try to stop.”

You felt the breath go out of you. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t have lied to you and yet, as you peeked over at Steve, he didn’t seem to be either. Did he know where Bucky found you? Had he been there that day too? Your head spun and you gripped it as if it would fall off your shoulders.

“Did he tell you where I came from?” You asked sharply.

“He said he found you, or rather, you found him,” Steve shrugged. “Said you wandered into his backyard with bruises and little more than a sheet to keep you warm.”

You shook your head and clutched your head tighter. “No, no, no, he couldn’t--” You blabbered. “No, no, that’s not how it happened.”

“Dora,” Steve inched forward and you backed away from him. “Dora, it’s okay. You’re just… confused. You’ve been through a lot and sometimes our minds distort the truth to protect us.”

“No, I remember!” You shouted as you ripped your hands away from your head and balled them into fist. “I remember!”

“Dor,” He said softly as he reached out to you, “We should go back.”

“No, he’s lying.” You exclaimed. “You’re lying!”

“Dor--”

You slapped his hand away as he tried to grab you and kicked out. He flinched and you reeled away from him. You spun and quickly dashed towards the trees. The boots slid through the mud but you kept your legs moving as you dove into the brush. You could hear him behind you, not far. You knew he would catch you; he was bigger, stronger, faster. You didn’t care as your chest burned with anger.

“Dora,” He yelled after you as he chased you. “Dora, stop!”

You wouldn’t; couldn’t stop. You just wanted to be alone; to be away from this cursed place. You were so utterly stupid to have believed Bucky. To have trusted him. He could be nice but he could also be terribly cruel. He was no different from those men who held you in that concrete box. And Steve, he could be no better.

You were suddenly stumbling forward as a weight crashed into you from behind. You fell into the mud and the air was knocked from you as Steve landed atop you. You wiggled around and wrestled with him as you cried out. You managed to roll over onto your back and clawed at his large chest. He caught your wrists and held them to the ground as you writhed beneath him.

“Please, Steve,” You begged. “Please…”

“Why did you run?” He asked breathless.

“Why won’t you let me?” You returned. “Why are you helping him?”

“He’s my friend and--”

“You said I was your friend,” You snarled. “You said we were--”

“Bucky’s not bad.” He insisted. “I know he’s not. And I know he only means the best for you, Dora.”

“No, no,” You struggled under his weight. “No…”

“Yes. He’s right. We both know it.” Steve said desperately. “There’s nowhere else for you Dora. Nowhere. Nothing short of another cell or a street curb.”

You went limp beneath him. Your eyes were wet with tears as your chest swelled with dread. 

“But I could try--”

“What’s you’re real name, Dora?” Steve asked. “How old are you? Where are you from?”

You searched his face frantically. There were no answers. They were all gone; stolen from you. You shook your head. 

“Please…” You said softly. “Don’t tell Bucky.”

“Dora, I have--”

You lifted your head and pressed your lips to his before he could protest. You hoped that he was as easy to appease as Bucky. Your kisses were your only protection. Your only value was your body. Just as before, you were a toy to be played with.

You dropped your head back and he stared down at you. His forehead was creased and his eyes wide with shock.

“Why did you do that, Dora?” He breathed.

You blinked at him as your lip trembled.

“Why?” He repeated.

You turned your head away from him and shivered. He released your wrists and pushed himself to his feet. He reached down and lifted you by your arm. He was silent, you feared, seething. He turned you back to the path and marched you toward the trees. 

You reached over with your other hand and grabbed his. He stopped and looked over at you. You squeezed and gazed up at him. He let go of your arm as you clung to him.

“I did it because I wanted to,” You said.

Steve gulped and looked up into the trees. He nodded and took your other hand and continued on. His boots crushed the twigs and wet leaves loudly. His fingers tightened and loosened over yours as you got closer to the house.

“I won’t tell him,” Steve uttered at last. “It’s our secret, Dor.”

[kestrellavellan]

Time Past - Chapter 52

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,761

Warning: NSFW, mention of past trauma

Weekly updates going forward until the story is finished.  Find this fic in its entirety on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423880/chapters/51852871

They returned past dinner from a successful day trip.  It’d taken hours of healing magic to see the old woman’s hip mended, but from Dalish’s smile, it was worth it.  After using so much magic, he could barely keep his eyes open over his meal.  Eating what he could, he stood up from the table with Alvinius and Kestrel and said, “Can I go to bed now?  I’m super sleepy.”

Closing the tavern for their day trip meant they were the only three currently there.  The quiet was welcomed after their journey.

“Yes.  Goodnight, da’len.  Good job today,” Kestrel said.

Dalish gave him a sluggish hug in response and trudged towards the stairs.

“Don’t forget to take off your shoes before getting in to bed!”  Kestrel shouted after him, but Dalish gave no indication he heard before disappearing up the stairs.  He turned towards Alvinius, shaking his head with a rueful smile.  “Last night, he was so tired, he passed out in the bed, fully dressed with his shoes on.”

“He’s a good boy.  And he saved that woman’s life today.  You should be proud of how you’ve raised your son.  You’re a wonderful father,” Alvinius said, placing a hand lightly on Kestrel’s arm.

Kestrel looked down at the touch but didn’t pull away, despite the subtle flush that heated his cheeks.  Over the last few years of his life, since disbanding the Inquisition and leaving Dorian, praise, even undeserved, was rarely thrown his way.  Still, he had to set the facts straight, even if he’d rather selfishly bask in Alvinius compliment.  

“I’m not his father.  I’ve never been one.”  Although, all those milkings in Tevinter might lead to some unknown children.  Kestrel shoved that thought away before it could darken his mood.  “Honestly, he’s been this loving and helpful as long as I’ve known him, which has only been a few months.  I can’t take credit for it, it’s all him.”

“Truly?  Just a few months?  You two are so close.  You don’t look alike, but still, I thought…” Alvinius shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  You’re his caretaker now, and you’re doing a great job seeing to his well being.”

Kestrel laughed.  “You’re the one providing our food and lodging!  Really, I can’t take any credit.”

Alvinius’ eyes lingered on Kestrel’s lips as he spoke, a gentle smile gracing his own.

Kestrel sensed the change in mood as Alvinius scooted closer on the bench they shared and leaned in.  He held his breath, cheeks alight with a deeper, darker blush, wondering if Alvinius dared kiss him.  Kestrel stood his ground, not pulling away, but guilt didn’t allow him to close that last bit of distance either.  What would Dorian think?

Closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side, Alvinius took the initiative.

The first kiss they shared that night was a soft, hesitant thing.  Barely a brush of skin before Alvinius jerked back, pale skin flushed a beautiful pink.  Before he could stammer out the apology forming on his lips, Kestrel wrapped his hand around the back of Alvinius’ head and pulled him close for a redo.  This one unleashed the shackled passion they’d both been reining in.  It was everything the first kiss was not - messy, eager, and unrestrained.

Alvinius slid into Kestrel’s lap, using the new angle to deepen their kiss.

Kestrel could feel his excitement brush against his stomach, and his own body started to respond.  This might not be the home he imagined for himself even a few months ago and love was still a faraway concept, if even ever attainable, but it felt nice to be held, kissed, and possibly fucked again.  It helped fill a painful void he’d tucked away within him.  He was dead to Dorian, which meant he needed to try his best to bury Dorian in his heart.  Still, he had to lay all his cards on the table.

Pulling back, leaving Alvinius reeling from the kiss, Kestrel managed to say, “I’m not sure I can give you what you’re looking for, Vin.”

Alvinius kissed his cheek, then his jaw.  “That’s okay.  We’ll go as far as you want, no strings attached.  And if you want the strings, I’m not going anywhere.”

Cupping Alvinius’ cheek, Kestrel gazed into his warm hazel eyes, finding solace there.  No judgement, no conditions, just a bright, welcoming soul ready to soothe his wounds.  Alvinius offered an escape to his past trauma, a way to forget.  “Then let's go to your room.”

 ***

Kestrel glanced into his room as they padded back, relieved to find Dalish fast asleep. And he’d removed his shoes.

Alvinius waited patiently for him by the open door to his room, red hair and hazel eyes aflame in the dim candlelight of the hallway.

As soon as Kestrel crossed the threshold to Alvinius’ room, Alvinius was on him, lips and hands curious and gentle, joining their bodies again.  It was so different from his times with Dorian.

Every touch was delicate, boarding on hesitate, as if one false move would force them apart.  Perhaps it’d been like that when he’d first slept with Dorian, but years had blurred that memory into something blissful but still hazy.  It was as if Alvinius was afraid he might crumble with too hard a touch.  Or run away if pushed too far.

This wasn’t a confident Dorian who knew exactly what buttons to push to get him to cry out.  Alvinus was a new partner who needed to be taught.  He pushed on Alvinius’ chest to give him enough space to remove his shirt, tossing it aside.

Alvinius’ eyes lit up, taking in the sight of his freshly bared skin.  He followed suit, quickly removing his own shirt.  Such pale, pale skin, pinkened with desire.  So different from Dorian’s darker skin which rarely betrayed a blush.

No, no more thoughts of him tonight.  It wasn’t fair to Alvinius to compare every aspect to Dorian.  He would never live up to those standards.  He needed to do his best to forget Dorian.  Maybe sex would help push Dorian from his thoughts.  

Kestrel grabbed Alvinius’ hips and spun him around until his back was to the door.  Still holding on, he pulled him over to the bed and sat down, maneuvering Alvinius in between his legs, leaving Kestrel eye level with a large expanse of alabaster flesh and twin, rosy peaks.

Kestrel skimmed his nose over Alvinius’ chest, inhaling the scent of dried sweat and lavender from the day on his skin.  He planted a soft kiss directly above one of Alvinius’ pink nipples, before lowering his mouth to skim his lips over the sensitive nub.  Alvinius trembled beneath his airy touch.

He slowly slid his tongue up and over Alvinius’ nipple in an intentional caress, earning him a soft groan and fingers buried in his hair.  That was all the permission Kestrel needed to tease and toy with the small peak.  Teeth tugged and tongue soothed.

Alvinius was a whimpering mess by the time Kestrel switched to his other nipple.  Still, he made no move to force Kestrel to do anything else but tease him.  Dorian normally made it known what he preferred, and how impatient he was growing.  Right, not Dorian.

Kestrel bit into the skin just to the left of Alvinius’ nipple, enjoying the way pink marks were left in his abusive wake.  He kissed the irritated imprint right after, nuzzling his nose against the elf’s chest in a silent apology.

Alvinius slipped a hand down Kestrel’s back, rubbing up and down.

Grinning to himself, Kestrel decided to mimic Alvinius and rubbed his hand along the fabric of Alvinius’ pants and the obvious bulge there.

Alvinius tensed briefly before thrusting against Kestrel’s palm, needing more.

Eager to comply, Kestrel slipped his hand past the waistband and was greeted by silky, hard flesh.  He’d only managed a few quick jerks before Alvinius cried out and came all over his hand.  

“Dear Maker…” he breathed, slumping on top of Kestrel, panting.  He took a moment to collect himself before dropping his knees to the floor in between Kestrel’s spread thighs.  He took Kestrel’s hand into his own and started licking his mess off Kestrel’s fingers.  Alvinius maintained eye contact, even while he sucked on each of Kestrel’s fingers, curling his tongue skillfully around each one.

Kestrel felt his cock harden under the sinful stare, mind wondering what those pink lips would look like curled around his cock.  Alvinius’ lips weren’t as full as Dorian’s and -- No!  Dorian would never be his again.  He needed to move on and Alvinius was certainly willing enough.

Besides, his torture which plagued him daily, seemed satisfied to simmer in the dark recesses of his mind, leaving him uninhibited and able to enjoy this time with Alvinius.  If he could just stop thinking of Dorian.

Hand cleaned to his liking, Alvinius leaned forward, rubbing his face along Kestrel’s thigh and higher.  “It’s your turn now,” he said with a promising smile.

Now that the attention was turned to him, having someone else between his legs only made Kestrel miss Dorian more.  Sadness and loss welled up within him, killing any budding lust he felt for Alvinius.  Kestrel’s battled against a shrinking erection.  

No!  This was not how this night was supposed to end.  He wanted to forget Dorian and lose himself in Alvinius.  ….Right?  Now, how to ensure that happened?  A thought popped into his mind.  It was a terrible thought, but it just might work.  Although he couldn’t have Dorian, he might be able to see this through if he imagined that it was Dorian sucking him off and not Alvinius.  Part of him felt shame for the subterfuge, but Alvinius was already pulling his pants down.

Kestrel lay back on the bed, imagining it was Dorian kissing the inside of his thighs or dragging his teeth over his hip bone.

As Alvinius took one of his balls into his mouth, sucking, Kestrel thought of Dorian toying with him.  He reached out, expecting to find a stubbly cheek and shaved hair, but all he felt was smooth skin and soft hair.  He groaned with disappointment.

Even as Alvinius’ tongue danced up the underside of his cock, Kestrel could only think of Dorian.  Dorian would’ve had him in his mouth by now.  Struggling with his emotions, he threw his arm over his face, hiding behind it.  Even the desire demon was better than this.  

His cock was fully flaccid by the time Kestrel lost his battle with the tears.

The bed shifted next to him and Alvinius asked softly, “Do you want to talk about Dorian?”

Kestrel moved his arm enough to glare at Alvinius through his tears.  “How do you know that name?”

“You only said it a few hundred times while I was on my knees.  I figure -”  He reached out and brushed away a tear on Kestrel’s face.  “-he’s the cause of these.”

“No, no, you’re wrong,” Kestrel said, fresh tears flowing.  “It’s all my fault.”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Alvinius soothed.  He climbed into bed next to Kestrel, pulling Kestrel into a comforting embrace.  “I know you have to be strong in front of the boy but not here.  Here we can talk about anything.  Or nothing if you prefer, mon beau oiseau.”

With a shuddering sigh, Kestrel released everything.  He revealed his past with Dorian, from the very beginning up to several weeks ago, reliving tender moments with Dorian in Minrathous, the trauma dealt by Morven’s hand, and the true depth of his guilt for abandoning Dorian.  He managed the whole tale through bouts of crying and panicked breaths.  The night was fully settled by the time he was done, candles sputtering low.

“Your story is more tragic than I imagined,” Alvinius said after a long moment to process, his tone heavy with sympathy.  “Know that I am here for you in whatever capacity you desire, whether friend or more.  There are no strings attached.  There’s no pressure for you to stay or rush for you to leave, but this town could use a healer and I a friend, should you decide to stay.”

Kestrel buried himself in Alvinius’ chest, soaking up the comfort he offered.  He might not be Dorian, but would it be so terrible to settle here in Nessum with this man that so clearly cared for him?  Perhaps love would even follow if given enough time.  Yet the only words that left him in a soft whisper were “I miss him.”

Whether Alvinius didn’t hear or didn’t know what to say, he didn’t respond as he ran his fingers slowly up and down Kestrel’s back.  Exhausted from the crying, Kestrel was soon fast asleep under Alvinius’ gentle caress.

***

Warm light bathed his face, stirring Kestrel from a deep slumber.  With a soft groan of protest, he turned on to his side, shifting under a warm blanket.  The smell of lavender wafted up from the sheets, and Kestrel opened his eyes at the unusual fragrance.  Then he realized he was completely naked.

Sitting up with a jolt, his gaze darted around the room, finding it unfamiliar but empty.  His tension only eased when the memories of last night popped out from wherever they’d been hiding.  Still, he’d slept in a...what was Alvinius?  Friend?  Acquaintance?  Lover?  Whatever he might title him, he’d slept in Alvinius’ bed all night without stirring.  It’d been his first night without nightmares since his assault.

Before he could enjoy that fact, his mind jumped to another worry - Dalish.  He’d been all alone last night.  What if…?

Using his growing anxiety, Kestrel stumbled out of bed, found his clothes neatly tucked on a chest, and dashed out of the room still adjusting his leggings.  He skidded to a halt in the open doorway of their shared room to find it just as empty as the one he left.  There were no signs of a struggle, but he still held onto his nagging doubt.

Kestrel rushed down the stairs, tripping on the last few and landing hard on his feet.

“Kestrel!” said a cheerful, if muffled voice.

Dalish.

He turned towards the source and spotted Dalish sitting at the bar with a big bowl of porridge, gnawing on a piece of bacon.  Grease was smeared across his cheek, but he looked otherwise normal and unharmed.

Alvinius stood behind the bar, resting a hip against the wooden counter as he dipped a spoon into his own bowl.  The softest of smiles rose to his lips when he saw Kestrel, until he realized Kestrel’s state of disarray.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, hand dropping his spoon into the bowl and disappearing beneath the bar.

Kestrel closed the distance in a few steps and hugged Dalish to him, ignoring the protesting muffle from him.  “I was worried someone had…” he said and stopped, resting his chin on top of Dalish’s head.

“He’s okay.  I would never let anything happen to him,” said Alvinius, face stark with his seriousness.

“I know, I just overslept and then the rooms were empty and…”

“It’s okay,” Dalish said against his chest, hugging Kestrel back and nestling close.  “I’m okay, you’re okay.”

“The imagination is a terrible trickster,” Alvinius agreed.  “I thought about waking you, but you were sleeping so soundly, I decided against disturbing you.  I’m sorry.”

Dalish pulled back with a big grin on his face.  “You finally slept good?  No nightmares?”

Kestrel couldn’t help but return his smile.  “No, no nightmares last night.”  He also couldn’t help looking up and meeting Alvinius’ knowing gaze.

“I meant every word of it, mon beau oiseau.”

Feeling relieved with Dalish in sight and refreshed from a much-needed night of undisturbed slumber, Kestrel sauntered over to Alvinius and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  Turning his head to rest his cheek against the one just kissed, he whispered, “You’ve told nothing but truths since we arrived.  I have no reason to doubt you now.”

“I thought I’d find you struggling, yet here you are, ready to fuck someone else and it’s been, what, not even two months?” sneered a very familiar voice.

Kestrel spun around, but before he could react, Alvinius pulled a crossbow from beneath the bar and leveled it at the new visitor.  “And just who might you be, Vint?” he said, tone tight with anger.

“Atronis,” Kestrel and Atronis said at the same time.  There was only one reason he’d track him down.

Atronis stared down the crossbow as he slumped into a nearby chair, even as it trailed his movements.  “I didn’t think I’d find you in time.  Now I have, but you’re useless.”

“What happened?  Is Dorian…?”  Kestrel leaned against the bar, using it to hold himself up.  Here he was flirting with someone else while Dorian was what?  Dead?  Dying?

“Do you know how many villages I stopped in to find you?  And none of them are very welcoming to a Tevinter!”  

“With good reason,” muttered Alvinius at Kestrel’s side.  The crossbow was lowered but still out.

“I thought when I heard of a one-armed Dalish from the next village over, my search was done, but now I realize it’s pointless.  You’ve already forgotten about him.”

Kestrel clenched his jaw.  Atronis knew how to ramble about his own hardships but rarely liked to get to the point.  “Atronis,” he snapped. “If you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on, I’ll shoot you myself.”

Atronis recoiled, affronted.  “He’s still going through with it.”  When Kestrel gestured impatiently with confusion, Atronis spat out, “The wedding.  He’s still going through with it.”

Then Dorian was still alive.

Kestrel clutched his hand against his chest, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  “Why?” he asked with a shaky voice.

Alvinius’s hand reached out and rubbed small circles along his back, offering strength and support.

“Your death, it broke him.  He’s lost his mind.  I tried to convince him that a wedding wasn’t what he wanted, but he insisted it was.  He said he planned on a wedding and that was what he was going to do.”

A wedding?  Their wedding?  Kestrel looked down at his fist and the golden band that glimmered there.

Oblivious, Atronis kept going.  “Really, I believe it’s because Aquinea sank her claws into him, spouting off some bullshit about how a child would give him a purpose in life.”

“You were supposed to be there for him.  You were supposed to watch out for him,” Kestrel said with an angry hiss.  “I trusted you to watch over him since I couldn’t!”

Atronis rose to his feet, hands thrown into the air.  “I tried!  But he doesn’t want me!  He only wants you.  Even knowing you’re dead, he only wants you.”  The last sentence was barely a whisper, said when he dropped back into the chair with such a dejected look.

Kestrel felt a small tinge of sympathy for him, despite their history.

“How do you think Kestrel can help?” Alvinius asked, sounding curious.

“What?” Atronis looked at the other elf and then at Dalish, remembering they weren’t alone.

“You said, ‘I didn’t think I’d find you in time.’  Why did you come looking for him?  How do you think he can help?”

Kestrel knew why, so he answered before Atronis could.  “I’m the only one who could convince Dorian not to get married to a woman.  He’s single-mindedly stubborn at times.”

“But then that would ruin your plan, no?”

“You know him as well as I do.  He’s doing this to punish himself.  He wants to live the rest of his life suffering,” Atronis said, every word full of frustration.

Kestrel frowned, deep in thought.  “When’s the wedding?”

Counting off on his fingers, Atronis answered, “Two days from now.”

“Two days?  You realize even with a horse and using the main roads, it’ll take a good week to make it back,” Alvinius said.

“How is that finding me in time?  If I even agree to go back, he’ll already be wed!” Kestrel threw his hand up in exasperation before burying his face in its palm.  The thought of someone else marrying Dorian twisted his stomach.

Alvinius was there to soothe, renewing his rubbing of Kestrel’s back.

“Perhaps you can at least persuade him to have it annulled.  It’s possible, you know, but only if you convince him within the first month of marriage.  I’m sure Aquinea will keep him close until the annulment period is over, so our time is limited.”

That meant traveling back into the country that viewed him as property.  Back into the household that had enslaved him and tortured him.  All for Dorian.  And then what?  Once Dorian knew he was alive, would he take him back after such a big lie?  After how weak he’d been?  Would that even be what was best for them?

“I think you should go,” Alvinius said quietly.

His words yanked Kestrel from his thoughts, and he looked over at him in disbelief.  “You do?”

“I know it’ll be dangerous, but I also think there will be no moving forward for you if you don’t.  Go see him and determine for yourself if you should intervene.  If you see he’s on the mend, then leave him be.  There will always be a place for you here, mon beau oiseau.”

“And if I-”

“Then know I will always cherish our time together, however short, and you’ll always have a friend in Nessum.”

“What about me…?” Dalish asked.

“How about you stay with me for a bit until Kestrel figures out where he’s going to stay?”

“I don’t know…”

Kestrel was just as reluctant as Dalish.  He trusted Alvinius, and Tevinter would be dangerous for two runaway slaves, but still, his heart protested the thought of leaving him behind.

Sensing his unease, Alvinius said, “I promise I will take good care of him in your absence.  I will protect him with my life, if necessary.  This whole town will.  No harm will come to him.”

“But, your nightmares,” Dalish muttered, looking at Kestrel with those pale blue eyes.  “And if you’re caught…”

“I’ll return with him, boy.  He can play the role of my slave.  My pet bunny,” Atronis said with a smirk.  “Really, there’s nothing to worry about.  He’ll be safe with me.”

Kestrel ignored Atronis’ comment and moved to Dalish’s side.  “I’ll be okay, and you’ll be safe with Vin here.  Only until we can be reunited, okay?  This isn’t goodbye.”

Dalish didn’t look convinced, but he nodded his head, reluctantly agreeing.  “Don’t take too long,” he grumbled as he pulled Kestrel into another hug.

“We’ll set out tomorrow morning after I’ve had a chance to rest,” Atronis said.  Kestrel opened his mouth to protest, but Atronis continued, “We can’t make it before the wedding anyway.  One day of rest won’t hurt anything.”

“Looks like you’ve got me all day, da’len.  What would you like to do?” Kestrel said, patting Dalish’s back.

“I have the makings of a picnic.  How about I pack you up a basket and you take him down to the lake?” Alvinius offered.

“Join us?” Kestrel asked, snagging his hand.

Alvinius gave him a small smile.  “I wish I could, but there’s something I need to do today.  You go and have fun, and I’ll see you tonight.”  He pulled his hand from Kestrel’s hold and disappeared into the back.

Kestrel was left wondering if he’d hurt his feelings by agreeing to go, even though Alvinius was the one who recommended he see Dorian again.  He had little time to worry about it, because the next moment Dalish was grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the stairs.

“Get cleaned up so we can go to the lake!” he commanded playfully.

“Yes, sir!” Kestrel said with a grin.  He resolved himself to enjoy the day with Dalish and the evening with Alvinius and leave his worry to tomorrow.

 ***

Except that didn’t quite work out.  Once Dalish and he returned to the tavern from a lovely picnic on the lake with sun-kissed cheeks and hearty smiles on their faces, Alvinius greeted them with a hooded companion right inside the door, Atronis nearby with a frown.

Kestrel could tell immediately by the mood that something had happened.  Or was about to.

Dalish yawned long and wide, barely hiding it behind his hand.

They’d stayed at the lake longer than planned, barely making it back as the sun set.  Of course, Dalish was tired.  It’d been a busy day full of food, sun, and swimming.

“Why don’t you head to bed?” Kestrel said, keeping his tone light and pleasant.

Oblivious to the change in mood, Dalish nodded.  Rubbing his eyes, Dalish hugged Kestrel half-heartedly, hugged Alvinius, and made his way upstairs.

Kestrel lowered the picnic basket to the nearby table in case he needed to reach for his blade.  “What’s going on?”

“I was approached a while back by some elves.  They asked if I wanted to join their network that would bring about the rebirth of the world.  While I politely declined, they ensured I had a way of contacting them just in case.  Well, I’d say this is a just in case situation.  They can get you to where you need to be in a day instead of a week, mon beau oiseau.”

One day for a week’s worth of travel?  How…?  Only an eluvian path could help him travel so fast, and only one person was rumored to have access to the network now.

The hooded visitor lowered their hood, revealing a young Dalish woman. “Andaran atish’an,” she greeted in elvhen.

Her appearance solidified Kestrel’s suspicions.  “You’re part of Solas—Fen’Harel’s group, aren’t you?” Kestrel asked.

“Yes, Inquisitor.  Your friend here has explained the situation, and Fen’harel has decided to aid you once again.”

“Why?” Kestrel challenged.

The woman shrugged.  “It’s not my place to question.  But there are some rules that must be obeyed should you agree.”

“Now you can get there before the wedding,” Atronis said, sounding impressed.

“What are these rules of yours?”

“You will be blindfolded.  If you remove the blindfold at any time, I will kill you.”

Alvinius frowned, moving instinctively closer to Kestrel.

Kestrel rolled his eyes at the dramatic rule.  Of course, Solas would have such strict rules.  “And…?” he prodded, unimpressed.

“Only you may go.”

Atronis rose to his feet.  “We’re travel together!”

The woman narrowed her eyes and glared at Atronis.  “No.  You’re not.  Only the Inquisitor is permitted.  Finally, you will owe Fen’Harel one favor, however large or small, at a time of his choosing.”

“When would we leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”  

Kestrel turned to Alvinius.  “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he said, feeling guilty.

“I care for you,” Alvinius said, cupping Kestrel’s face between his hands.  “If this gets you the answers you need and grants you a slimmer chance of running into slave catchers, I’m all for it.  If the price is not too steep, you should do it.  I’ll keep Dalish safe until you’ve made your decision.”

If the price wasn’t too steep?  Hadn’t he already paid a steep price for Dorian time and time again?  This time was no different.  He’d die for him if that was needed to keep him safe, especially now that he’d found someone to look over Dalish in his stead.  

Alivinius was too good for him.  It was likely for the best he was leaving.  Alvinius deserved better.  “You’re too kind to me,” Kestrel said as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on Alvinius’ lips.

“Speaking of, let me draw you a bath?  You smell of pond water, and I’d hate for your smell to betray your presence to this man you’re going to check on.”

Kestrel looked over at the woman who just shrugged again and sat down, prepared to wait.

“Okay, thank you, Vin,” Kestrel said.

After taking a quick bath and putting on a fresh set of clothes, he made his way upstairs to Dalish.  The boy was fast asleep in the bed, cheeks pink from their day in the sun.

Kestrel ran his fingers through Dalish’s hair, reassuring himself that Dalish would be okay in his absence.  Alvinius would care for him like his own, and Dalish was already a favorite of the town.  He knew he had nothing to worry about.  Still, he knew they’d miss each other after spending so much time together.

He leaned down and kissed Dalish’s forehead.  “I’ll see you soon, da’len.”

[pinkipie100]

Voltron Clone Wars AU- Characters, Part II

I got really long and detailed with all these descriptions, I thought it’d be better to split it up into two posts. So, here’s the cast, Part II!

Part I here!

Hunk

17-year-old Mirialan Jedi Temple Guard, trained by Master Altea.

Hunk is friendlier than most Temple Guards, as he openly speaks with Jedi in the Temple and will help out anyone who needs directions or whatever else.

He often volunteers to escort any visitors to the Temple, and he ensures that they are comfortable and catered to. If visitors are staying the night, Hunk will be the first to volunteer to guard their room.

This level of open fraternization from a Jedi Temple Guard does not go unnoticed by Master Drallig, head of the guard, and he tries to discipline Hunk for this, but the latter’s former Master, Allura, always convinces Drallig to let him off easy.

When Hunk is really sneaky, he can even cook late-night meals for the Younglings, and even some troublemaking Knights. These occurrences are few and far between, but kept extremely secret.

Hunk prefers to use words to dispel confrontation and violence as only a last-resort, and he has resolved many Temple break-ins through simply talking the perpetrator down from an irrational state.

Hunk’s track record with peacefully resolving conflict is the reason Master Drallig can’t afford to expel him for the ‘inappropriate’ fraternization.

Like all Jedi Temple Guards, he uses a yellow lightsaber pike. Though he rarely uses it, he was taught to use a lightsaber by Master Altea, so it would be a disaster for someone to be on the receiving end of Hunk’s attacks.

Hunk’s connection to the Force may seem weaker than other Jedi, but he has an incredible ability to manipulate extremely heavy objects. He can even Force-throw people more easily than most if a situation demands it.

He is especially chummy with Lance, with whom he was trained as a Youngling. If they fought side-by-side in a battle, it would be like facing a tornado of deadly yellow and blue light.

Hunk is close with a Kel Dor Senator named Shay, who often comes to the Jedi Temple to address the Council on the matters concerning her homeworld of Dorin. Hunk will personally escort her around whenever she does this.

Coran

53-year-old Shili Togruta Jedi Master, trained by Master Sinube, mentored Jedi Knight Lance Mcclain and several other Padawans, now mostly teaches Younglings.

He’s a vet. He recorded the Mandalorian Civil War, witnessed the outbreak of the Invasion of Naboo, and fought in the First Battle of Geonosis. Coran’s seen some sh*t.

He’s most immersed in the history and politics of his home planet, Shili.

For years, Coran was assigned by the Jedi Council to be a body guard to the Senators from Shili.

He and Coran became close friends, and the latter became very involved in the goings-on of his homeworld.

Coran was the one who sensed Allura’s attunement to the Force when her mother gave birth to her. The Council ordered him to take her back to the Temple to begin training.

Alfor and his wife were hesitant to just give up their only child, and they wanted her to know of her heritage and her people.

Coran sympathized and understood more than any other Jedi did the plight of the Senators, so he made the compromise that Alfor and his wife could see her on Coruscant when they came.

Coran has a crossguard saber that ignites green. He has amazing balance with it, and few dare to cross blades with this Master.

Coran would have been Allura’s Master, but he knew taking her on as an apprentice may result in not only him forming an attachment, but her getting too used to the familiarity of family and friends. So, Master Windu took her on.

Lance

17-year-old Nabooian Togruta Jedi Knight, trained by Master Smythe.

Lance is friendly with everyone around the Temple, even when it’s not exactly welcome. He has also faced several warnings from the Jedi Council to stop saying inappropriate things towards Aayla Secura, Barriss Offee, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and several other Jedi.

Lance figures since he can’t form attachments anyway, they must know it leads to nothing. What’s the harm?

Lance has a standard-hilt blue lightsaber, built for aquatic conditions.

Lance’s blocking skills with a saber are unmatched. He almost always takes out every droid that attacks him with its own shot.

He’s also a brilliant shot with a blaster if push comes to shove.

Lance and Hunk trained very closely as both Younglings and as Padawans, as their respective masters remained on Coruscant for most of their training and missions.

As such, Lance is only ever excited to go out and fight in the Clone Wars.

His clone battalion is the 405th Wave, who paint light cerulean waves on their armor. They’re very carefree and wild in a fight, but Lance can direct them like a master strategist.

They are especially adept at underwater combat, and aided during many of the marine battles of the Clone Wars.

He’s not quite a natural pilot like the many of the other Jedi, but he practiced hard to master his starfighter.

Lance was born on Naboo to immigrant parents, who already had a large family, and he was the only one of his siblings born Force-sensitive. It devastated the family when the Jedi took him away to the Temple.

He only has vague memories of being on Naboo, remembering nothing but blurry faces and shimmering water.

Sometimes, during meditation, his mind wanders through the Force back to Naboo and his family, wondering if they still miss him or if he’ll ever get to meet them.

Lance and Keith met during the Battle of Mimban, when Lance and the 405th had to drop down from above and aid Keith and the 224th, who ended up surrounded on a marsh island.

Lance and Keith immediately did not get along, Lance disliking Keith’s reckless strategies and hotheaded demeanor, and Keith disliking Lance’s unconventional approach to fighting and lighthearted, flirty attitude.

Lance starts getting stuck on more missions watching Keith’s back, and as he does, he senses the Dark Side in Keith, and takes it upon himself to be Keith’s anchor to the light.

Keith

17-year-old Saleucami Twi’lek-human halfbreed Jedi Knight, trained by Master Shirogane.

Keith is admired for being a fantastic pilot, second in skill only to Anakin Skywalker, but most of the time he keeps to himself. He doesn’t have many friends in the Temple besides Shiro.

He... teeters on the Dark Side dangerously often, and Shiro is constantly worrying about him because of this.

It’s not really that surprising, considering how he was raised on a backwater desert planet, outcast for being an ‘ugly’ halfbreed, abandoned by his Twi’lek mother to return to Ryloth, and given up by his father with no explanation. On top of this, apparently he’s also Force-sensitive and must be trained to fight in the Clone Wars.

He holds a lot of resentment towards his heritage, and he doesn’t truly feel he has a home except with Shiro. Shiro was the one who tracked him down and offered him a home in the Temple, and he’s the only reason Keith really went along with the whole Jedi thing.

He knows Hunk and Master Altea because Shiro is so close to the latter, though he’s not really on friendly terms with either of them. He also knows Pidge, but they can butt heads on the battlefield when the Padawan has to cope with Keith’s impulsive leadership.

His lightsaber is a curved-hilt lightsaber that ignites yellow-green. He is a proficient swordsman.

Keith often has troubling dreams of him going into battle, only to ignite his saber and find that it’s turned red.

Keith commands the 224th clone battalion, accented with scarlet flames.

He once lead a battle with them on Mimban, but ended up getting trapped on a marsh island until Lance and his battalion arrived as backup.

Though they didn’t enjoy it, the Jedi Council found that Lance and Keith worked very well together and could be a great asset in the war if they worked together.

When the two are deployed to aid in the Battle of Ryloth, Keith is hesitant to go to the homeworld of his mother, in fear that he’ll find her and have to confront his past.

Keith is tense the whole time that they are there, with the temptation of the Dark Side looming over him, but Lance is able to talk him down from it and calm him. Lance helps Keith stay cool during their time on Ryloth, and eventually Keith is even able to talk through his feelings on his mixed heritage as Lance listens.

After Ryloth, Keith realizes he’s feeling an attachment to Lance, and that terrifies him. He then tries to act as cold as possible towards Lance, which only makes the other Knight feel worthless.

This escalates his descent into the Dark Side.