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smolstrawberrychara · 5 years

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October Klance Prompts - 19/10 - Jack O’Lanterns

Two idiots get their heads stuck in pumpkins 🎃

Now available on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21071726/chapters/50222384#workskin

The lights were low on the castle ship, Pidge having messed around with the circuits until she could produce a red glow. Lance had asked for golden, something ambient like candlelight, but she decided red was more halloween-y, being the colour of blood and all. Lance suspected she had actually been trying for orange and couldn’t succeed. No matter! The castleship wasn’t glaringly white like usual, and Lance had other things to worry about, like laying down blankets in order to keep it that way, so her shortcoming was forgiven.

As he laid out the final blanket, plonking a set of knives and pens in the middle, a shout came from the hallway.

“I’ve got the pumpkins!” Hunk called, and a second later a pile of oversized pumpkins on two legs rounded the corner, the topmost one rolling to the floor.

“What the-?” Lance began, but another pile followed, and when this one talked it sounded rather like a small green paladin.

“Not pumpkins.” The pile announced, “they’re fruit from some planet Coran knows the name of. Don’t ask him.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” Shiro commented, walking in after with a single alien pumpkin tucked against his stomach.

Pidge didn’t answer, just sighed very deeply. Lance didn’t pay them mind, homing in on the one pumpkin that had slipped away. It was huge! Bigger than a fishbowl. And heavy too, as Lance found out lifting it up to his eyes.

“I could fit my head in this!” Lance cried, awestruck. This was going to make one hell of a jack o’lantern.

Then a single syllabled laugh killed the mood. Lance jolted, nearly crushing the space fruit in his palms as he spun around. Keith leaned against the door frame, raising his eyebrows at the display in front of him. Lance scoffed. God forbid he come all the way into the room and actually have some fun.

“Something to say, Keith?” He hissed. Lance was vaguely aware of the rest of the group setting out pumpkins and knives with a quiet kind of resignation behind him but paid it no mind. It seemed even Shiro had stopped bothering to interrupt their arguing these days. Lance was glad. Someone had to tell Keith killing joy wasn’t a full-time job.

“No.” The boy in question replied, kicking one leg over the other as he settled into his infuriating lean, “just found it funny that you think you can fit your head inside a vegetable.”

“Fruit!” Someone called behind them, probably Pidge. Lance didn’t care, lifting up the fruit to shove it at Keith.

“It’s huge.”

Keith shrugged. He had the awful twitch in his lip that led to a smirk and Lance felt his blood boil.

“So’s your head.”

Lance’s last thread of patience snapped.

“MY HEAD? MINE? Coming from Mr I’ll-stand-in-the-corner-acting-all-superior-every-time-the-team-has-an-ounce-of-fun-cause-I’m-too-good-for them-massive-head. Shut up! It wouldn’t fit over your head!”

“Oh, it would.”

“You wanna try?”

“Bring it.”

Keith stamped across the room and Lance scrambled to follow. Hunk heaved out a weak “guy’s...” but it wasn’t about to stop them. Keith had already stabbed his knife into his pumpkin as Lance dropped to the floor.

It didn’t have to be perfect, Lance decided as he grabbed the knife out of Pidge’s hand, it just had to be done. The girl yelped, but Lance was already plunging the metal through the peel, sawing like his life depended on it.

The fruit was softer than a real pumpkin, so cutting was easy and Lance got a clean circle in no time. But the insides, that’s where Lance took pause. There were no stringy fibres. Instead, the fruit was filled with fish eggs - or rather seeds that looked like fish eggs. And in his haste Lance had already thrown his hand in only to be stopped when the jelly-like beads began oozing and popping between his fingers.

Hunk retched beside him.

“That is so gross.” Pidge commented and Lance turned to her, finding her hands still clean, barely a scratch on her pumpkin.

“Uh huh,” Lance squeaked, glaring at her, “you’re not the one freaking touching it.”

“You giving up?” Keith called and Lance crushed his hand into the goo.

“No! I’m just getting started.”

Then he thrust a second hand into the pumpkin, bits of fruit spewing out like sick and started clearing in earnest, digging like a dog with a new bone. In seconds the pot was empty.

“Hah!” He shouted, shoving the thing over his head without a second thought. It caught painfully on his ears but he forgot near instantly as his world became orange and he whooped in delight.

“Shove it Keith! I got it on!”

“I did too, idiot.”

“Well I did it first!”

“How could you tell, your face was deep in pumpkin?”

“Oh, I could tell!”

Lance leapt onto his feet. He was about to throw his new helmet away and have a proper yelling match when he stumbled instead landing in sticky fruit entrails. The helmet was still firmly on.

“What the hell!?”

Regaining his footing he tried pushing it off again, clanking his teeth together when his chin smacked up. The helmet stayed on.

“Oh god.”

He scraped at the bottom, craning his neck with increasing panic.

“Oh no, no no no noooo. Help!”

Lance started stumbling across the room, knocking into another person who was hissing out a series of curses.

“Guys!” Lance cried. His ears were burning now, skin covered in sweat. Helmet still on. “I’m stuck!”

“No shit.”

Lance whirled around in the general direction of Pidge’s comment. “Help me!”

“Oh no you dug your own grave here.”

“What!?”

“Guys, seriously.” It was Keith now. A stern command, heavily muffled. “Get this off me now.”

“Nope!” Pidge announced, popping the ‘p’. There was the distinct sound of gleeful skipping.

“Shiro!” Keith pleaded.

Lance tried to look helpless, aiming in the direction he guessed Shiro was in.

“Oh no, I’m with Pidge. This is your mess.”

“But-”

“Hey, if you’d thought through your actions instead of rushing into ridiculous competition, you wouldn’t be here.” Shiro said with ringing finality.

Keith was clearly taking this lying down, letting out a pathetic growl, but Lance was determined.

“No way!” He cried, talking over Keith’s feeble attempts at reasoning. “You can’t leave us like this!”

“Oh, we can.” Pidge gleamed. She was gaining far too much joy in this as she cackled, sounding much further away than before.

“Wait you’re not leaving are you!?”

There was a sharp very Shiro-like cough. “It’s for your own good.”

“But!” Lance thought frantically for some excuses. “We’ll run out of air! I can’t breathe! Shiro I’m suffocating! Shiro!”

A hand came down on Lance’s shoulder and he jumped away.

“Relax,” Hunk cooed. It had incredible effect as Lance did relax, not only letting Hunk replace his hand but leaning into it.

“Thanks Hunk.”

“No probs bud. Stay still a tick?”

Lance nodded before turning statue. There was a popping sound and a slit of light poked through the orange ceiling around him. Lance couldn’t help grin. Hunk always had his back. Then something else poked through the gap - a small tube of sorts.

“So you can breathe.” Hunk commented, slapping Lance’s back and sliding off.

“Wait what!?”

There was a puncture sound from further off, Hunk piercing Keith’s headpiece too like a carton of juice.

“Sorry bud. We are leaving you a knife though.”

“Oh great! How thoughtful!” Lance soured, sinking into his hip and throwing out his palm. The knife didn’t get placed in it.

Instead, Pidge’s voice echoed once again. “He didn’t say he’d give it to you.”

“What!?” Lance shrieked, in a panic once again, “I don’t want knife boy stabbing me like this!”

“You want to be stabbed some other way?” Keith growled, much closer than before, “‘cause I’ll wait.”

“I don’t want to be stabbed at all! Especially not by you.”

“Guys.” Hunk huffed, and suddenly there was a sharp pain to the right side of Lance’s head. It seemed as if Hunk had literally banged their heads together and Keith made a grunt similar to Lance’s as they suffered through the resulting tremors.

“Sort yourselves out. I’m leaving the knife on the shelf where no-one can get hurt. Either find a way to help each other out or get the knife without killing each other. You’re choice.”

There was the sound of feet swivelling on tiles, and then footsteps - quick and purposeful. Lance made a few final pleas, but they were all met with dead silence.

“Keith?” He finally called.

“Yeah?”

“This is your fault.”

The ensuing argument lasted a good half an hour and consisted mostly of “no it’s not” and “yes it is”. By the end of it Lance found himself sat against the wall, foot drumming relentlessly against the floor as an aura of bitterness surrounded him.

“You know if you’d just come into the room earlier none of this would have happened.”

Keith scoffed. He hadn’t even strayed that far from Lance, but still had the confidence of a man standing outside of swinging room. Lance was fuming.

“What, you think I’m wrong? You spend all day standing around in doorways wearing condescending looks and giving out stupid comments.”

“I do training!”

“Oh I’m sorry!” Lance cried, irritation burning in his veins “Let me start over, when you’re not killing yourself in the training room you’re out here watching all of us like some kind of guardian demon.”

Keith threw back just as much anger back. “Well, what do you expect me to do when you’re all hanging out together in one room!?”

“Uh, come in!”

It was pretty damn obvious as far as Lance was concerned.

“Whatever.” Keith murmured as if that would end the conversation. It only spurred Lance on.

“No, come on! Tell me! Why d’you spend you’re whole day looking down on us all instead of joining in?”

“Don’t push me Lance,” Keith growled but the warning fell on deaf ears.

“Push you? Please, I’m pulling at teeth here just trying to get you to talk. You know how much of a difficult person you are Keith? Very. I just wanna know why you think so highly of yourself. Why it’s such a bother to be around us, why you can’t even bring yourself to play our games but how you’ll always hang around in the corner anyway because what? It’s so funny seeing the ants playing their little games. So silly how they actually wanna be friends. So-”

“YOU NEVER INVITE ME!”

Lance stopped in his tracks. Keith was still huffing with his outburst, and in the sudden quiet Lance could clearly hear the crumple of jacket as he crossed his arms and slid away against the wall.

“It doesn’t matter.” He murmured, but Lance felt strongly that it did. The room was quiet now, the thick kind where there was so much to be said that it spread through the room like invisible fog.

“You’re not a vampire you know.” Lance offered but it didn’t come out light like he’d hoped, more like a dig. Or at least that must have been what Keith thought if his resulting growl was anything to go by.

“Just leave me alone.”

“No!”

Lance rounded on the boy, throwing out his hands to catch him before he could get any further away. Lance had missed the mark, grabbing the front of his shirt and the shoulder of his jacket. But he’s stopped Keith, so with determination he slapped his hands again, hitting his head dead on. Lance was about to give his speech when stopped short.

“Holy-”

When he pushed at the sides of the fruit covering Keith’s face it’s curved reversed, bottom jutting out. He played a second, feeling the curve bounce in and out, concave, convex, concave, convex. It was almost like a toy, Lance fascinated by the strange physics, until he realised what it meant. A second later, Lance had yanked the pumpkin off Keith’s head and hastily followed with his own.

Lance gulped in fresh air. It was so clear, like a glass of water after a day full of squash. He blinked into the white light of the castle ship, wiping away the spots covering his vision until he could see the blankets bunched up in the centre of the room and the strange pumpkin goop laying like entrails across the floor. Lance laughed.

“We’re free!”

“Cool.”

It only took another second to remember what Lance had been doing and he instantly found Keith. The boy’s face was flushed with pink splotches, and he had it ducked towards the ground as he climbed to his feet. There was a frown, not his usual scowl, just an embarrassed, maybe even sad expression laying on his lips. For some reason it made Lance’s chest ache. He grabbed Keith’s hand.

“You’re not a vampire,” he insisted. Keith rolled his eyes but Lance was determined and gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “You don’t need to be invited.”

“It’s not that simple.” Keith mumbled. His hand was limp in Lance’s grip and he stared purposefully at the door. Lance let go.

“It is.” He said towards his lap. It felt futile. But then, Keith didn’t move.

Lance felt a bubble of hope in his tummy. So, he took a chance, standing up and blocking Keith’s gaze. “You’re always invited to hang out with us.”

Then he lowered his head, nerves spilling into his stomach like sparks.

“But if it will help,” he said, feeling the sparks bounce all the way down his arms, “I’ll make sure to ask.”

“Really?”

Lance took a pause. Keith’s eyes shine at the prospect, scared but lined with hope. Lance swallowed thickly, pretending not to notice the skip in his heartbeat. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Keith smiled now. The closest Lance had seen him get to a beam. It was closed mouth but sparkled in his eyes, cheeks round and still a little pink. Before it could go to his head, Lance spun around.

“You wanna go get revenge on the team?” He asked, eyeing up the gross innards of space pumpkin and finding a plan formulate in his mind.

“Oh yeah.” Keith replied.

#Klance fic #monthlyklance #klance #my fic #my writing #Jack o’lanterns

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rainbowpaladins · 5 years

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Untitled ABO fic pt10

Lance woke with a jolt, his daughter's piercing cries more effective then any alarm clock. For a brief moment, his sleep addled brain failed to recognize his surroundings. He was supposed to be in a room with purple highlights and the bare minimum furniture. So why was he in a room with blue highlights and a comfy bed?

And then it clicked.

Lotor. The lies. Running into Keith. Escaping and returning to the team.

And Shiro. Shiro who wanted to try to have a relationship with him.

Shiro who was also lying stock still with his arms full of a distressed infant. The Black Paladin shot a distressed look of his own at Lance, unsure what to do. "I think she needs to be changed."

Lance did a check of his own, before coming to the same conclusion. He rolled out of bed, limbs unhappy with the demand they function before he'd gotten enough sleep. He wasn't sure if there were any supplies to be found in any of the places he'd hid them, but it didn't hurt to look. Maybe he'd get lucky, for once.

He did a once around, as Shiro sat up and came to sit on the edge of the bed. Lance was just about to throw in the towel, when the universe decided to give him a break after all. Victoriously, he held up a the space equivalent of two diapers and a small container of wipes.

"Looks like I missed some, after all." He grinned, placing the items on the bed. "Give me a sec to grab a towel and then I'll get her changed."

"How did you get baby supplies onto the ship without us noticing?" Shiro sounded like he was seriously rethinking Lance's sneakiness.

The Cuban teen was almost sad to give away his secrets. He shrugged as he came back with the towel. "Sometimes I bought them and just stuffed them in my pockets."

Shiro squinted at the little packet of wipes, judging them to be about the right size to fit in someone's pockets without drawing attention.

"Other times," Lance went on explaining as he laid out the blanket and then reached out to take Izzy. "I pretended to buy a game or something but had supplies in the box instead."

Shiro watched the ritual, taking note on what he was doing to learn what all went into changing an infant as much as he was using the impromptu lesson to buy himself time to think. "We thought you were buying a lot of games."

Lance finished the clean up, redressing Izzy as he did so. He handed their daughter back to her other parent. Instead of addressing the trust issues between them (just yet), he asked, “How long was I asleep? I could definitely go for some of Hunk’s food just about now.”

Behind him, Shiro glanced at a plate of food that had appeared while he was asleep. “A few hours. Hunk brought you some of those finger foods you like, since he didn’t know when you’d be up.”

Lance dropped the trash down the disposal, eyeing the food like he’d just won the lottery. By the time his hands were clean, he was more than ready to dig in. “I need to talk to Allura when I’m done,” he said, after he’d stuffed a few more filling choices down his throat. “Izzy’s going to need everything.” Lance took the plate with him as he took a seat next to Shiro. “A single diaper won’t last long, and I’d like to get us both some new clothes.”

Shiro eyed the clothes he was wearing. Lance didn’t know how much he paid attention to the former Blue Paladin’s clothing, so it was a toss up if he’d notice they weren’t one’s Lance had owned before he left. When he spoke, his tone was gentle. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Lance leaned into Shiro’s shoulder, drawing strength from the presence of family. “I’ll talk, I promise.” He picked at the remaining pieces of food on the plate. “But I’d really rather only do it once.”

There was a long silence. When Lance peaked up at him, Shiro’s gaze was distant. He suddenly felt guilty for making it sound like it was worse than it was. Here he was, complaining about his ordeal to someone who had been held prisoner and forced to terrible things for the sick pleasure of others. “None of that, whatever you’re thinking.” He leaned back so he could place a hand oh Shiro's shoulder. "It wasn't that bad."

The prompt worked, but not in the way he thought it would. "What?" Shiro's attention snapped back into focus, eyes boring into Lance's as he frowned at him. "No. 'None of that' back at you." Shiro poked him in the forehead, perhaps a little too hard as it actually rocked Lance back a bit.

"This isn't a competition." In apology, that same hand came to rest on the side of Lance's face. "Don't think you have to down play what happened because you think someone else has it worse." Shiro shifted so they were facing each other, rather than sitting side by side, making certain Lance was paying attention. "Lance, whatever happened, whether it took place over an hour or a year or longer, if something bad happened to you, it matters. I, and the others, want to help you. Please tell me you understand that."

Lance blinked, vision blurred and stinging. He wasn't going to cry (not yet). He nodded, taking a shaky breath as he did so. When he felt more steady, he poked Shiro back, albeit with much less force. "That goes for you, too, oh, brave and fearless leader."

Shiro gave a noncommittal 'hm,' adjusting his hold on Izzy as she squirmed about. It wasn't a 'yes', but Lance was going to call it a victory, since it wasn't a 'no' either.

Needing to do something before he made a bigger fool of himself, Lance stood up, showing off his empty plate. "Well, I should get this back to the kitchen. See if Allura is awake."

Shiro rose to his feet as well, careful with the bundle in his arms. She was getting fussier with the high level of emotions, and starting to move around more. "I'll come with you."

Lance paused, searching his face. Did Shiro still think he needed to be baby sat? He supposed he did kind of deserve some level of caution, it was just going to take some getting used to.

As if reading his thoughts, Shiro shook his head. "It’s easier if I go with you, then if we wait for Allura to call everyone.” He raised an eyebrow at him as he walked passed on the way to the door. “One less person to track down.”

Lance still felt he was getting off far too easily, but he was going to take his good fortune where he could. The trip to the kitchen was silent. Since it was in that nebulous time period between meals, no one was in. Lance was almost sorry he’d put the plate down, as it left his hands feeling empty. In the two months he’d been on the run, with the exception of a few instances here and there, Lance rarely wasn’t carrying Izzy, so it felt odd to have his arms empty.

A glance up at Shiro and Izzy and he knew he couldn’t ask for her back. The older man had that stupidly adorable look on his face again as he entertained the infant with the patience of a saint. Izzy was fascinated with Shiro’s metal fingers, attempting to put them in her mouth. He was thankfully keeping them out of her mouth, but she had her determined face on, so it was anyone’s guess how that would go.

Instead, Lance crossed his arms and tucked his hands under his armpits in a sort of pseudo self-hug. He should have brought his jacket, even if it looked hideous with this outfit. At least then, he’d be able to put his hands in his pockets and keep up the nonchalant illusion.

They found Allura (back in her dress with her hair down) on the bridge, along with Coran. It sounded like they discussing how best to deal with the new, temporary passengers, before they broke off at the sound of the doors opening.

“Shiro. Lance!” Under her pleased-to-see-them expression, Allura looked like she hadn’t slept in over a day. Lance felt a wave of guilt as he realized far too belatedly that by selfishly asking Shiro to remain by his side last night, he’d deprived Allura of some of her own support system. There was no accusation, however, when she turned to him. If nothing else, there was only more of that relief she’d had when she’d first laid eyes on him in the Blue Lion. “How are you feeling.”

“Nothing like a little beauty sleep couldn’t help with.” Lance mustered up the energy to give one of his more winning smiles, beating down the urge to shift awkwardly. “I was wondering if I could put in a request for a pit stop.” He swallowed, fingers curling into a fist. “I had to leave my bag with all of my supplies behind on that station.”

Allura blinked, processing the information. Lance had never been more grateful for her intelligence and her discretion, then he was when she put that together and didn’t comment on it. “Of course. We can also pick up some more supplies for ourselves as well, as we are a little low due to our unexpected guests.”

Shiro reached out with his free hand, placing it on Lance’s shoulder. Two pairs of sharp eyes followed the movement, before those same sharp eyes glanced over to Izzy, who was peering over at them with the same curiosity she gave everyone she met for the first time. Lance watched their eyes flicker between her eyes and Shiro’s, and knew they had to have put it together, although there wasn’t a shred of judgement in their expressions. They seemed to be waiting for an explanation before drawing any conclusions.

“Before we head to the mall, I think we should talk.” Shiro’s hand tightened, although Lance wasn’t sure if it was for his own sake or Lance’s. “As a team. What happened this past year shouldn’t have happened and I think it’s important we figure out why it happened and how best to keep it happening again.”

Allura and Coran nodded in agreement. Lance thought they were all being way too kind by not calling out how royally he’d messed up.

“I’ll go call the others.” Coran spun on his heel in his extravagant manner, as went to go make the P.A.. “We might have to retrieve Number 5, though! I know saw her going for her lab earlier...”

Lance watched him go, unable to quite shake his sense of foreboding. He was not looking forward to this meeting, nor to how his other pack mates responded to the mess he had created. He could only hope that when the dust settled he and his new little family weren’t totally alienated from the pack.

-tbc

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