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californiannostalgia · 4 years

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Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.)

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed.

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

#tangled the series #rapunzel #cassandra #varian #eugene fitzherbert #character analysis #my thoughts #child abuse #trauma recovery #when the villain origin story is self-hatred

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fluffybunnybadass · 4 years

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Obligatory Father’s Day fic

Title: Get Rekt With Embarrassment, Silver (no, I will not be taking CC) (yes you can shorten it to ‘get rekt silver’)

Characters: Silver, Gold, Blue; brief appearances by Lance

Word Count: 4600

Rating: idk pg-13 for language?

tw: uhhh cursing and bad dads club, threats of violence by silver but none actually happening

inspired roughly by masters but mostly because it’s a funny idea of silver sending lance a “happy father’s day” text and then it spiraled from there thanks to plot bunnelbys. please enjoy and leave your feels in the tags or rbs, thank you.

You can read on ao3 here cuz my theme is atrocious to read on desktop, I apologize

also please don’t tag this as ship wrt lance and silver or else.

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“Are you going to text him?”

“Gold, you know about my father.”

“No, not him. I meant Lance!”

The redheaded teen gave a suspicious stare at his friend, who was mirthfully grinning at him, playing the innocent but well-intentioned fool. He knew what Gold really meant, but he decided to play along, seeing if he could get his companion to drop the conversation before it even started.

“Why.”

“Because it's Father's Day!” The redhead's face went full flush and he angrily glared at Gold, who only grinned more at his best friend, knowing that he had hit his target. “C'mon Silver! We all know that Lance has been a better father figure to you than your actual father. The guy's got total dad vibes!”

Silver gritted his teeth, his anger and embarrassment growing more with every word that Gold said. “Don't even--! I don't have a dad and that's it, Gold!” He barely held himself back from getting in his friend's face, wanting to hit him but knowing that he would regret it if he did.

Gold help up his hands in a defensive, placating manner. “Okay, okay! I get it! You don't have a dad. You came straight from an egg like Togepi and Sneasel did,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

“... Let's just get on with training today.”

The two had planned to hang out for part of the day. Gold knew that days like today brought his friend some unnecessary reminders of the past that would always haunt Silver, and he wanted to help distract his friend from the cloud of despair, at least for a little bit. Blue was going to join them later on, her understanding of Silver's feelings too good for the redhead to stop her from dropping by unannounced. Silver knew exactly what his friends were doing, and when Gold had asked him to hang out today and train, he shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.” Now he was starting to regret that decision, if Gold was going to be like this the entire time....

They had spent a few hours training. They sat down for a break, letting their Pokemon rest as well. Gold looked over at Silver, sizing him up as he tried again.

“Hey Silver! Can I borrow your phone real quick?”

Silver gave his friend another suspicious stare.

“. . . Why.”

“I wanna see something.”

“No.”

“Aw, c'mon, please? Pretty pleeeeaase? With a cheri berry on top?” Gold had clasped his hands together and bowed his head, begging pointedly.

“The answer's still no.”

Gold gave his friend a pout, and Silver shook his head, sighing a bit. But Gold was relentless in his teasing, and pushed once more.

“You know, you really should send him a text.”

“I'm not sending Lance a text!”

“But he really is a dad! It's courtesy to send your friends a 'Happy Father's Day' text if you know they're a dad.”

Silver gave Gold a skeptical look. In the time that he had spent training at the Dragon's Den in Blackthorn, he had never heard any mention of Lance having kids. Even though the man was pretty private for a public figure, he felt that the bond he shared with his mentor would have earned him some information like that. Not even Clair, who loved to share embarrassing things about her cousin with Silver, had made any mention about being an aunt, any niblings, or anything embarrassing about Lance and fatherhood.

“Oh really? Who's this kid I haven't heard about?” Silver asked, a smug look on his face. He was probably going to regret this, but he felt confident about his information.

“You!”

Silver flushed redder than a Charmeleon. He lunged after Gold, who cackled and leapt out of the way of his glaring friend who shouted at him.

“I'M GONNA PUNCH YOU!”

Silver chased after his friend for a moment, stopping only when he noticed Blue had join them for the day. He stopped and put his fist down, embarrassed that Gold had gotten a rise out of him. He turned away, glaring at where Gold had stopped to watch him, grinning at his friend.

“Don't let me stop you two from your games,” Blue said, teasing her best friend.

“I'm not playing any games...!” Silver said, gritting his teeth. He took at deep breath to calm himself like his two mentors had taught him, and turned around, putting on a smirk to mask that he had been caught acting like a fool.

“We were training.”

“Uh-huh. And part of your training involves literally kicking Gold's ass?”

“...Not literally.”

“That's not what it looked like to me,” she said, teasing her friend still in a playful greeting. Gold caught back up with the two trainers, slinging an arm around Silver's shoulders, who shrugged him off with a groan.

“Hi, Gold.” Blue exchanged a look with him, and the other teen shook his head slightly at her when Silver wasn't looking. “Have you guys taken a break yet? I brought snacks.”

“Nah. We were in the middle of one when Silver got mad at me all of a sudden,” Gold told her with a huge grin on his face, looking at Silver when he said it. “Don't know why though. All I did was ask to borrow his phone...”

“You...” Silver growled in warning, but he shook his head to rid himself of his frustration. “I wouldn't let you borrow my phone even if it meant you were dying.”

“Yeah, because we all know you would be the one using it!” Blue and Gold both laughed, and Silver's face flushed.

“Tch...”

For all their ribbing at him, Silver was grateful that he had earned himself some true friends. He had spent a lot of his life alone, with only Blue beside him as part of a childhood promise they had made. But when they got separated, he vowed to never have any friends again, the pain and ache he felt without them too much to bare. He had spent a lot of his childhood and early teen years telling himself that it was better off that he was alone, that he operated better like that, that he didn't need friends because they'd only hold him back. He didn't need anyone. Not a father, mother, any siblings or any cousins either; just himself. Even his Pokemon were tools to him, no companions in any way that he could have wanted.

But things changed when he met Gold. He kept running into this trainer who kept beating him, even though he knew his Pokemon should have been stronger because he trained them to the ground. He evolved them as soon as was possible. And Gold, who still had a Togepi, a Pichu, Pokemon that were unevolved and powerless on their own, had won against his team that he trained harder and harder each and every time this dopeyheaded trainer crossed his path. It was unfathomable to him that he could ever lose to someone who spent his time laughing and playing with his Pokemon as much as he did train them.

And then he ran into him.

Lance had thoroughly trounced his team with no effort at all. The Dragon-type trainer had given him a pitying look, as though he felt sorry for Silver and his Pokemon.

“Why...? Why? How did I lose so terribly against you?” He had been holding back tears of frustration, shaking as his emotions played with him, the defeat stinging far worse than any against the kid he kept running into. Tears slowly filled his eyes, threatening to fall once the child closed them. He couldn't cry on top of the embarrassing defeat, he just couldn't--

Lance looked at the prone Silver, who had his hands curled up into fists as he slowly beat on the ground, the frustration the child felt too much for the young adult's heart. Lance let out a long sigh, and stood in front of Silver. He knelt down to the child's level, as much as he could.

“You lost because you don't trust your Pokemon. You don't love them.”

Silver found the empty despair within himself burning up with anger. His shaking stopped. He looked up at Lance, and spat on the ground next to him.

“Tch. I lost because of a thing like love and trust? Don't mess with me! I don't need things like that.”

Lance let out a sigh. The child, a preteen, wouldn't be open to hearing an explanation, but he wanted to try anyways. If nothing else, maybe it could plant the seed that would let this kid grow into becoming a better trainer to his Pokemon, and a better human. How he had acted during their battle... To treat his Pokemon so terribly during the match, he almost wanted to stop it before the child had called out the other half of his team. How much had this kid gone through, anyways, to think like this?

“Listen carefully. If you really want to become strong, then you'll need to love and trust in your Pokemon's abilities, and they'll fight their hardest for you. It starts with treating your Pokemon with respect. They're not tools; don't run them ragged in an attempt to be better than someone. Having a rival is all well and good, but don't use it as an excuse to abuse your Pokemon. I hate that. It's things like that, that will cause a trainer to lose, no matter how much training their Pokemon undergo. Once you've established respect with them, spend time with them outside of training. Play with them. It's okay to let go and be childish every once in a while. You won't be able to establish any sort of connection or bond with them if you don't show them love and appreciation. And that bond will turn into trust.” Something it felt like the kid hadn't seen a lot of in his life. The realization pained him to think about, but there was nothing he could do about it if the child wasn't open to him.

“I don't get it....! What does any of that have to do with being the strongest Pokemon trainer there is?!”

Lance let out a half-chuckle, shaking his head. He didn't know how else to explain it to him, but... “I hope that one day you will be able to understand. Please let your Pokemon have some well-earned rest. Even with how poorly you treat them, they still made an effort, and deserve some time off. I think that you, as well, should take some time off to think about things. If you're ever near Blackthorn City, stop by the Dragon's Den. You might be able to find some answers there.”

That had been several years ago.

Silver had grown a lot since then. He had made friends, and re-connected with someone who had vowed to stay beside him. He had confronted his own father, the weak, spineless man who had abandoned him years and years ago, and while he hadn't exactly made peace with his feelings on the matter, it didn't eat him up inside to think about his old man like it used to.

That didn't exactly mean that days like today --where good-natured salesclerks brightly asked him about his plans for Father's day as part of their scripts, or tried to push a sale on him under the notion that he would be seeking a gift for or spending time with anyone who could even remotely be considered a dad-- were any easier or better than they had before. But as he watched Blue and Gold talk and laugh, as they sat around and ate the snacks that Blue brought them, it made him feel a little better to know that he had such good friends that stuck by him. Friends that trusted him, and people that he could.... rely on.

His hand reached into his pocket, absentmindedly tracing the edges of his cell phone.

“Hey, Silver?” Blue asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket, crossing his arms over his chest.

“...Yeah?”

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? I think I left mine at home and I wanna call to find it.”

Silver gave her a suspicious look. She was good at talking her way into and out of things, being sneaky while seemingly innocent. He looked over at Gold, who was busy playing with his own phone and feeding an Aipom he was training today.

“Can't you get Gold to do it?”

“Gold doesn't have my number saved and I don't remember it.” She gave him a plaintive, sad look.

“You don't-- What do you mean you don't remember your number!?”

She shrugged, looking at him sadly and innocently.

“Grrr....”

“Pleaaaaase? Pretty pleaaaase? It's just to call it!”

Silver had a feeling he was going to regret this. “...Fine.” He jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, shoving it at Blue. “Take it. Just don't do anything to it, and definitely do not give it to Gold.”

“Aye-aye!”

He rolled his eyes and turned towards his Pokemon, remembering Lance's words about raising them. He had learned how to love and care for them, from his time watching Gold in order to figure out what exactly made the trainer stronger than him, back when they were still kids. Now they were older, practically young adults, and he wondered what he would have thought of himself back then, if he saw who he had become now. No doubt he'd call himself another bleeding heart like he did Lance that one time... But his Pokemon were happier than they had ever been; his Golbat had evolved into a Crobat once he had learned how to change himself and his attitude towards his Pokemon. He had gone to the Dragon's Den a reviled child, but now he was considered respectable among his peers there. Even Clair had remarked on his change, and it was hard to get some good praise out of the easily jealous, haughty lady.

Blue nudged his phone back at him.

“Thanks! I found it! Turns out it was on vibrate in my bag the entire time!” She laughed at her foolish mistake, waving her phone in her hand.

“...You're welcome.”

“Oh cheer up! You did a good deed today! You helped an absolute damsel in distress.”

He rolled his eyes, and was about to speak, but a text notification on his phone went off, nearly startling him. He gave Blue and Gold a suspicious glare, but they only grinned at him.

“Oh? Wonder who that's from; Gold and I are already here, so I'm not sure who else would be texting you...”

“Shove off.” Based off his friends' grins, Silver had an idea of what had happened. He shoved the phone in his pocket without looking at it, turning away from his friends who were waiting expectantly for the chain of events that were about to happen. “It's probably some spam mail or something.”

“You didn't even look at it!”

“I don't need to look at it to know that it's spam!” he yelled. “You two are right here, as you said! Leave me alone!”

The two other trainers exchanged looks, and Blue sighed. “Fine, fine. So what have you guys been up to?”

Gold and Silver explained to Blue what they had been working on as far as training went, and Blue offered to join in. The two boys weren't about to turn her down, so the training regimen for that day was adjusted to allow for a third person, including a three-way battle amongst the trio. Curiosity had itched at Silver's mind. He had managed to put the text out of his mind by focusing on training, but now that they were having another break, their Pokemon cooling off in the nearby river, Silver couldn't help but wonder exactly what it was. He wasn't signed up for any text messaging offers like Blue was, and he didn't give his number out to just anyone, like Gold did. Silver looked over at his friends, who were busy chatting and dipping their feet into the cool riverbank.

Hmph. They sure are spending a lot of time talking to each other today, he thought with mild bitterness. He chided himself before the selfish, jealous thoughts could spiral, and looked at them once more. They were distracted enough that maybe... Maybe he could sneak a glance at the mystery message.

Silver slowly pulled out his phone, looking around quickly to make sure no one else was nearby. The teen took a deep breath, turned on his lock screen, and took at look at the name on the message preview.

Lance.

He immediately threw down his hand holding his phone, the screen turning back off. His face flushed immediately as he looked over at his friends, knowing exactly what had happened.

“Ho-oh damn these people with its Sacred Fire...” Silver muttered under his breath, trying to calm himself down. It could have been a coincidence, but he didn't believe in things like that. Okay. Fine. What did they send him?

He took a deep breath, and looked at his messages.

<<< Happy Father's Day

That's it. That's all they sent. He breathed a sigh of relief that it had been something simple, nothing big, silly, or extremely out of character for him to send; only to seize up once he realized what the implications were, since he was still very certain that Lance had no kids of his own, biological or otherwise. In a mixture of frenzy and fear, he looked at Lance's reply, worried that the Champion had questioned the message at all, or said something equally as embarrassing as the sheer fact that his friends sent this message at all. Silver's thoughts were rapidly trying to figure out how to escape any exchanges that could have happened, as he looked at Lance's response.

>>> Awe, thanks Silver. :-]

Silver stood there, stunned into confusion as his face flushed. He just.... accepted it? Didn't question it? Didn't press for more? There was no comment on if it was in relation to the implications of Silver sending it. There were a lot of people among the Dragon Clan who swore that the mentor-mentee relationship had evolved into one more familial, of a father and son, and he didn't seem phased at all by them being proven right, had the text been truly sent by him? But more importantly....

<<< What the fuck is :-]

Was that... supposed to be an emoji? A clown? Did it even mean anything? Silver was too embarrassed by the entire thing to even remember to deny any implications that the message could have given Lance, or any that the Champion could have inferred...

His phone's text notification went off almost immediately, and it startled the redhead out of his confusion as he quickly looked up to see if Gold or Blue had noticed what he was doing. He didn't see them by the riverbank anymore, or anywhere nearby, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Well... Whatever.” He looked at his phone again. An arm was suddenly swung over his shoulder, as Gold leaned against him, chin resting on his friend's shoulder.

“Soooooooooo, who was that message from?” Gold asked loudly, peering at the phone with the biggest grin on his face.

Silver scowled and tried to shove him away. “None of your business!”

But Gold held on as Silver struggled to push his friend away. In the process, Silver's phone dropped. Before the redhead could retrieve it, a purple flash ran by, swiping the phone in the process. Gold's Aipom had the phone gripped in the hand on its tail, waving it around playfully before passing it over to its trainer. Gold quickly unlocked the phone and read the message aloud.

“Awww, he said thanks! Aren't you lucky to have such a good dad in your life? He didn't even question it! It's almost like he knows.....”

“GOLD...”

Blue was standing by Gold, and read over the younger trainer's shoulder, before looking at Silver with a mock gasp. “Silver! You really use that language with him?”

“That's none of your concern!”

“Eh, I'm not surprised,” Gold said, as though Silver weren't right in front of them. “Though I'm surprised Lance didn't tell him something like to mind his language or anything. He seems like the kind of dad who would frown on cursing. What is that thing he put anyways? Oh, he replied! Let's see....... 'A smiley face'. What is he, fifty? Use an emoji like the rest of us. Or call it that...”

There was a pause. A devious smile crept onto Gold's face. “I'm gonna reply!”

“DON'T YOU DARE.”

“D...A....D, That's dad.... space... P...L...S..... please. There, sent!” He tossed Silver's phone back to him, darting away from Silver before he could lunge at him.

“I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!!” Silver growled at Gold, who was busy laughing his ass off. Blue wasn't helping, as she was trying to stifle her own giggles. This was great. Just great. He loved his friends, but sometimes.... Sometimes he regretted being friends with them. This was one of those times.

“You--”

There was another text notification. Silver snarled at them, then quickly looked at the message to see what kind of damage had been done.

>>> Did you just type dad?

Hastily, Silver replied back, his face hot from embarrassment and ignoring his friends' teasing laughter, asking him to read Lance's response out loud.

<<< NO. MY PHONE AUTOCORRECTED

<<< YOU'RE NOT MY DAD

<<< I DON'T HAVE A DAD I WAS JUST BEING NICE

For some reason, he didn't have the heart to tell him that Gold and Blue had gotten a hold of his phone and sent those messages. As easier as it would have been to explain it, his flustered feelings had gotten in the way, and he found himself responding in a panic before he could even think about his responses. Silver's own panic had given a response to Lance that was possibly worse than telling him that his friends were pranking him and not Lance,which would have meant that there were no good feelings in the messages at all. He could have at least spared him that had he just been more honest and upfront about his feelings, but his own denial made it difficult to even see that he cared about what the older trainer had thought of him until it was too late.

Silver groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Arceus end me, please.”

He ignored his friends, shrugging them off when they gave him apologies for the teasing, asking what he had furiously texted back. Silver showed them, embarrassed, head hung as they read.

“You guys couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you?” Silver snapped. He shook his head, realizing that was harsh. He knew they actually meant well, despite all of their teasing. They really were just trying to get him to open up and see that he had at least one potential paternal figure in his life that cared about him, that he could have had given the barest recognition to. Another groan escaped from Silver and he crouched down, embarrassed and ashamed of all the hard work that he had done thanks to Lance, resulting in this rejection of him. “...He's going to hate me now.”

“I don't know... He didn't seem to hate you when you met; actually, I remember him being concerned about you during the shutdown of the Mahogany hideout,” Gold said, trying to be helpful.

“Gold's right! He's helped you grow and change your life around so much! I think Lance knows you better than that. You're pretty tsundere after all.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you guys call me that.”

“Well, maybe you should stop being one!”

“Nah, if he did that, I don't think he'd be Silver!”

There wasn't a very long wait to find out, as Silver's phone now began to ring in his hands.

All three of them looked at the caller id at once.

“Oh.”

“Should I answer it?”

“What do you mean should you answer it. Do you really think he's going to just give up if you don't answer him? He knows that you're looking at your phone right now!!”

“I don't know! I've never had this issue until you guys made it a thing.”

“Hey, don't look at me! I told Gold it was a bad idea.”

“You still took part!”

“Guys...” Silver sighed loudly, trying to quiet down the squabbling. “I'm answering it.” The other two immediately shut up.

“Hey.” His voice was unsteady as he tried to play it cool, like his usual, detached self. The other two listened intently, trying to hear how the conversation was going. Silver turned away from them, going a few paces away.

“Y-yeah.... Sorry about that. ….Mhmm.... Yes... No, not like that! It's just...” There was a sigh and the other two trainers leaned in, straining their ears to hear as Silver walked away further from them. Blue pouted. Gold threw his hands behind the back of his head.

“Think we might'a pushed it a little too hard?” he asked Blue.

“Mmm.... Maybe? It's not good for him to pretend like he doesn't feel some sort of way towards his mentor. Lance really has been the father figure that Silv's lacked in his life. And I felt a little guilty for awhile that I got my parents back while he still... but the few times I've seen him with Lance, it's like... he actually has a parent for once? Even if Silver hates to admit it, he doesn't wanna let Lance down. He wants to surpass him, sure, but...” She frowned, looking at the silhouette of Silver in the distance. “He's probably wanted a better dad than what he had, and now that he has someone who could fit that bill, he... doesn't think he's good enough for that? I don't know how to explain it. I just know he needed a push in the right direction and I'm pretty sure that Lance isn't gonna sign some adoption papers unless Silver wanted it. And,” she gestured in Silver's direction. “We all know how that would go if we don't.”

“Yeah, that sounds 'bout right for him. Well, maybe one day he'll feel okay. Maybe next year he might actually send him a text without us saying anything!”

Blue laughed. “Wouldn't that be nice? 'Hey Silver, did you remember to text your dad this year'?”

“ 'Yeah, I did, and he said I was a good son'--” Gold broke off, snorting in laughter. “Okay, okay. He probably wouldn't say that. But maybe we could try again next year. Who knows? Maybe by the time we're thirty, they'll have adoption papers.”

“Pffffft.”

The two broke off their chatter when they saw Silver heading back towards them. They watched as he approached, his expression surprisingly calmer than it had been the entire time they had spent together. He looked... relieved?

“Okay... Yeah. ….... Bye.” Silver put his phone away as he walked back towards his friends, the smug expression they were used to back on the redhead's face.

“What happened?”

“What'd Lance say?”

“...Heh. You two are in sooooo much trouble.”

#champion lance #pokemon lance #pokemon silver #pokemon blue #pokemon gold #pokemon #anyways this was a lot of fun #get rekt silver #writing #my writing #pokemon fanfic #trainer silver #trainer blue #trainer gold

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angstalottle · 4 years

Text

Benders

Final part:

Lance watched on in horror as blood trickled the ice and formed a small puddle.

Its warmth was melting the floor just enough to penetrate the solid crimson mass and leave it slightly pinker than it should be.

Somehow that felt even worse then if it were just normal blood.

Almost like it was a cruel reminder from the universe that despite being surrounded by water, by the ocean, by the element tied to his very soul… that Lance was still powerless to save his people or his sister.

“Please Lotor, just let her go.” lance begged hoping he didn't look as close to crying as he felt.

He wanted nothing more than to run away and hide in his room until Allura worked him the next morning and all this would turn out to have been an awful dream.

Lotor smirked, removing the knife.

The cut on her throat wasn't too deep, any half decent healer would manage to take care of it within moment and not even leave a scar.

But that didn't change the fact that the wound was still there. And it was on Lance’s big sister who was staring at him with wide terrified eyes.

Lance hated seeing her scared. After all the times she had stared down certain doom seeing it now almost felt like she was giving up.

His hands curled into fists as Lotor wrapped his free hand around her neck.

“I'm not unreasonable. Simply give me the spirit and your sister gets to live. I'll even return your dreadful little village to the surface.”

“You think it will let you bend.” Keith mumbled just loud enough for those in the room to hear.

“What do you mean bend?” Lance asked risking a glance at Keith who suddenly looked much more confident then he had moments ago.

“He’s doing all of this because he wants to become a bender.”

“Shut up” Lotor growled threateningly.

“And not just any kind, no he wants to be like a water bender.” Keith continued a smirk growing on his face. Lance didn't know where he was going with this but he trusted him enough to see it through.

“Shut up” Lotor said again only louder this time.

“Tell me brother, do you think this will make your mother love you?”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Lotor screamed shoving Allura to the side and charging at Keith knife aimed for his throat.

Lance was sure Keith would have been able to dodge or maybe even steal the knife right out of the discrassed princes hand.

However, Lance wasn't willing to take that chance.

Soon as his sister was clear the ice surrounding Lotor burst upwards in a violent spray of spikes.

If anyone asked Lance would say he meant to form the perfect little cage, when the one that was currently lodged though Lotors shoulder is a little more accurate to what he wanted.

“You attack my home and family for something you can't even gain.” Lance let the ice around Lotors feet slowly turn to water letting him drop further and further down until Lance had to crouch to maintain eye contact.

“The spirit gives others the ability to bend, if i wasn't already born a bender becoming the spirit wouldn't have made a difference. You just lost everything for a chance at nothing.”

Right as Lotors face was about to go under Lance smiled at him.

“Lets see how long you can hold your breath. Good luck getting back to the surface in time.”

With a wave of his hand Lotion was sent plummeting into the cold icy darkness of the ocean and the ice was reformed over the top.

“Well that takes care of-”

Lance was cut off by being tackled with a hug by Allura.

“You stupid brave idiot!” she cried hugging him so tightly he didn't think she would ever let go.

“Oh hang on” Lance whispered using some of the water to heal Allura’s neck.

A small glow of light later and she was fine… well physically.

“Enough, now tell me what the hell you were thinking? Coming here and… and bending when.” Allura’s eyes widened as a horrifying realisation struck her “Lance what were you planning to do.”

“I'm still going to do it.” Lance said softly “it's the only way… if i dont its the end of not just our tribe but all water benders. The fire nation has taken so much from our people please don't let them take this as well.”

Allura took his hands in hers “please don't let them take my little brother”

Shaking Lance pulled his hands away when all he wanted was to hold onto her forever.

“Keith please i… i need you to get her out of here.” Lance’s voice broke with emotion.

“Lance please there has to be another way.” Keith placed a hand on his shoulder only for Lance to grab it and use it to toss him to the ground.

“There isn't.”

He spoke softly even as he pulled up the huge wall of ice and used it to force the two people he loved most away from him.

Once he was alone he turned to the koi in the water.

“I suppose I should say something. Maybe thank you for giving me this extra time that I was never supposed to have. For letting me have a family and a life, for letting me fall in love.”

Lance sniffed as he wiped away his tears and the rest of his makeup along with them.

“This would be a hell of a lot easier if you left me to an awful life. Then I would just want to get it over with.”

His hand was shaking as he lowered it into the water.

“I'm really going to miss them… I just wish… I just wish I could stay with my family just a little bit longer.”

Lance closed his eyes as the water began to glow beneath his hand and the white drained away from his hair.

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

Keith knew it was too late the moment Allura was able to remove the ice blocking their path.

She screamed soon as it revealed Lance lying on the floor, his once snow-white hair a warm chocolate brown.

His eyes were closed…

He was still.

While Allura collapsed to the ground sobbing Keith tip toed forwards.

He slowly lowered himself to the ground beside Lance and pulled him into his arms.

He was as cold as the ice he lay on.

“Lance… i… I wish I could have shown you the world.” Keith whispered resting his head on the prince's chest as he finally let himself cry.

“When do we leave?”

Keith looked up in disbelief as Lance’s clear blue eyes slowly began to open.

Those eyes that stole his heart and he was sure he would never see again.

He didn't even think about what he was doing. Keith just knew one moment Lance was waking up and the next he was kissing him.

“Lance?” Allura asked tears still streaking her face.

It was only then did Lance pull away and weakly held out a hand to his sister which she was more than happy to take.

“I don't understand. I thought you died. You idiot I thought you died!” Allura exclaimed through tears of joy.

“I guess the spirits decided I had more life to live.”

The familiar lurching of their stomachs pulled them out of their celebration.

They were heading for the surface and everything was going to be fine.

It took a few days for everything to settle down again.

Lotors remaining generals were caught and tossed into a boat to let the ocean deal with them. The tribe was done playing host to them and let fate decide what was to come next.

Lance was left very weak and spent most of his time asleep in his room, with Keith keeping him company of course.

Eventually, though the fear of another attack died down and life continued as normal. Well, almost normal.

As the tribe did indeed have to lose their prince. Only not to the spirit world but to their own.

“I promise I'll come home to you.” Lance whispered as he hugged his sister goodbye.

Keith was serious afterall about showing him the world, and Lance was determined to let him.

Even if it did mean leaving him home behind.

“You know you don't have to go.” Alura replied squeezing him tighter.

“Someone has to take a stand. I can teach Shiro water bending and help them fight against the fire nation. It's my duty.”

“A prince doesn't have to do this.”

“I know, but it's my duty as someone that can make a difference to try. If i do nothing then what nearly happened to our people will keep happening everywhere else. It's time I finally do my part.” Lance smiled as he pulled away from her and took Keith's hand.

“Don't worry your majesty i'll keep him safe.”

“You better” Allura smiled “or not even the Avatar will keep you safe.”

“I wouldn't try to stop you if he did '' Shiro chuckled.

“I'll be fine Allura” Lance said as the boat began to pull away.

After all he put them through they saw no reason not to take Lotors boat for their own. It certainly would make their long journey a lot more comfortable.

It didn't make leaving any easier though.

But as they pulled away and Keith and Lance stood side by side it didn't feel like such a bad thing.

“Are you ready to see the world.”

Lance smiled bending the water around the boat to raise them up onto a large wave then letting it fall propelling them forwards through the water.

“You bet.”

#langst #avatar last air bender au #water bender lance #avatar shiro #fire bender keith #Allura #last chapter

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blackbodhisattva · 3 years

Text

Partners

Chapter Three

Rating: soft M

Characters: Jotopa Kaid, Toby

Warnings/Tags: mutual pining intensifies even more, clone culture, talk of being abandoned, force fuckery

Summary: Anakin Skywalker calls up his friend and fellow Knight Jotopa Kaid to go "on a little mission" with clone captain Toby and basically ruins their lives.

Word Count: about 6k

Chapter One, Chapter Two

---Mission Continues---

First day of officer training, and he was a wreck. Of his batch, only himself and Pyro were selected for commissions. The rest, Joker, Checkmate, Lucky, Kit, Snow, Blue, all showing exceptional promise, had gone into their own specialized training regiments. Toby (still then called Worrier) and Pyro also had their specializations, but heaped on top was the added burden of command.

The young man Jotopa watched did not think he was cut out for the job.

This was a memory of a dream. A dream of a memory. She remembered it as vividly as she had then and was as helpless to stop herself from sinking into him as she had been then. Jotopa did not recognize this exact instance, but there were so many; it would have been impossible to remember them all.

Worrier at this age was long and lanky, his limbs this side of gangly as muscles began to fill in the spaces between his stretch-marked skin and bones. His hair was regulation cut, a wisp of beard and mustache attempting to play around his jaw and lip at this late hour. The day must have been a particularly stressful one: the honey brown of his eyes was hooded and downcast, an expression she learned to recognize as anxiety and unhappiness. A shock of sympathy rushed through her, and not for the first time, she wished for the ability to pull the young man into her arms, to comfort and soothe.

His younger brother Pyro had an arm draped around his hunched shoulders, soulful dark eyes tired and pinched with worry. They leaned into each other, their curly heads touching, one drawing strength from the other and sending it back just as effortlessly as breathing.

“It’ll be alright, ori’vod. We’ll be alright. Don’t worry. You can do this: I know you can,” Pyro was murmuring soothingly, a familiar refrain that had taken on the cadence of a lullaby and often lulled Jotopa to sleep when she was wakeful. Worrier’s mouth twisted, head dipping before he shrugged out of his brother’s embrace. Pyro’s shock lanced through him, crackling across his skin like a bolt from a training blaster to the chest. Worrier grimaced, tugged Pyro down to lay side by side on his bunk.

“You’re right, vod’ika, of course y’are. I can do this.” He said, forcing levity and assurance in his voice when he felt none, when there was none. He couldn’t do this, not under his own strength, but for Pyro, he would.

Jotopa slowly opened her eyes, the ever-present sound of rain still ringing in her ears even as the cacophony of the rainforest raced to replace it. She breathed out, slowly, deeply, took stock of her surroundings. Cassios-7. Beneath the starboard wing of her powerless ship in the makeshift camp set up by clone Captain Toby. A bedroll surrounded by netting infested with bugs. Most of note, the man curled around her, face nestled in the space between her shoulder and the back of her neck, not quite snoring. She swallowed and decided to focus on the pair of fox-like creatures moving across the tree line opposite her. She thought they must be going for the stream hidden not six paces into the dense thicket. Four days ago, she and the man who had his muscled arm draped across her middle found it as they had scouted out the immediate area around their ship and camp. She truly had not pegged him for a cuddler, and every night since the first morning she awoke cradled in his arms, she was somehow more surprised than the night preceding.

Her lips twitched up as she remembered the exasperation that flickered over his handsome face and through his Force signature when she told him she could sense the water was safe to drink. He had squatted down, the sunlight dappling attractively over his bare shoulders, and pulled out the water sampling kit. Eyebrow raised in unabashed challenge, he had asked if she didn’t mind if he double-checked, and she didn’t think she did the best job of concealing her immense amusement as she agreed that it was best he do so.

Hard to believe he was the same person from her dreams. Jotopa pulled her upper lip into her mouth, worried it with her teeth as a frown knit the space between her eyebrows. It didn’t make sense, she thought as she absently ran her palm up the captain’s warm forearm, eyes still carefully following the fox duo. The pair were a sleek sapphire, their tails bushy, their undercoats a lush emerald. Though not as long-limbed as Loth cats, something about the way they moved, about the glint around those dainty ink-black paws, convinced Jotopa that they were several orders of magnitude more dangerous. Her captain was much the same, Jotopa concluded as, with a deft leap, one of the agile blue and green foxes snatched a bird out of the sky.

With a sigh of regret, she slipped out of the warm shelter of his arms and stood to stretch. Her eyes were drawn to the sleeping man at her feet, sweeping her eyes over him briefly as she thought about the day ahead. Though the past four days had seen them very busy, Jotopa couldn’t help but feel slightly impatient. The jungle was dense, and both she and her captain well knew the dangers of setting off without having a game plan or without having any navigational methods or bearings to help them should they get lost. She thought she was doing a good job of keeping her desire to leave the confines of the camp to herself. It couldn’t be said that she did not enjoy Toby’s company. The opposite was true: she enjoyed his company too much. Watching him as he went about his self-appointed duties, the play of light and movement of muscle beneath his sweat-slicked skin quickly established itself as her favorite hobby. Jotopa did her best not to indulge, but his smiles often drew her helplessly in, little gifts he gave generously, and she was addicted to the way his eyes lit in surprise and pleasure when she did something he supposed out of the ordinary.

But all of that fueled her conviction that they leave this place as soon as possible, so when she could tear her eyes from him, she found herself pacing the edges of the tree line, waiting for her captain to finish his preparations. The coil of tension that burned hot in her navel each time Toby set eyes on her form turned into a restless energy that she was eager to put to use in the jungle. If she were able, Jotopa would gather every atom of frustration into her legs and leap over the treetops and directly to the top of the spire. But she would wait for him. She would wait for him to be ready.

As all their usual navigation methods were unavailable, they were forced to fall back on more primitive means. It was something they were both well versed in, and even luckier for them both, that Captain Toby, being a scout, was especially suited. Jotopa smiled at the sleeping clone captain, let herself admire his plush lips framed by beard stubble, the broad set of his shoulders, and the groove of muscles cut into his abdomen in the predawn light. Just visible above where the waistband of his blacks slung low across his hips, she could just barely make out streaking bands of stretch marks, the dark trail of hair that had its origin at his belly button, and she clenched her fingers to dispel the desire to reach down and touch them. There were things to do, and she needed to do them before he caught her gawking at him.

Jotopa silently slipped out of the netting, noting as she did that the foxes were gone, and the only evidence of their presence was the bloody remains of their breakfast just barely visible in the tall grass. A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head and made for the center of the clearing, where it was quickly becoming her habit to perform her morning stretching and katas before Captain Toby woke.

Face turned towards the sun, Jotopa spread her arms wide and simply listened to the world around her for a long moment. Master D’Aleric always said that a Jedi’s first duty was to the Force and that no Jedi worth his or her salt was ever remiss in taking the first minutes of the day in grounding themselves as deeply as they could in its presence. Jotopa took his lessons to heart, and for her, on Cassios-7, that meant greeting the sun as it crested the horizon and began to peek between the tangle of tree trunks shyly.

The sunlight was warm on already warm skin as she slowly dropped her arms. On her shoulders, her leather vest sat uncomfortably, and Jotopa, tired and irritated already from wearing it in the unrelenting heat and fearing to chafe if she continued, shed it with little thought. Feeling much cooler without the stifling weight of her vest, Jotopa quickly fell into her first form and, mind clear, allowed herself to think about the dream she’d had.

For nearly half her life, her dreams and idle imaginings had been haunted by images and scenes of a life for which she had no reference but of which she was sure was real. Worrier and his brothers were sometimes more real to her than the memories of her fellow younglings in the creche. When sadness threatened, when self-doubt tapped at her ragged shields with poison-tipped claws, she was as likely to ground herself by humming batch songs and snatches of cadence she picked up in her dreams as she was the songs of her covert or the techniques taught to her by Master D’Aleric. Without ever having spoken to him, he saved her life more times than he could ever know.

But it was one thing to know, in a distant way, that you were connected to someone. It was alright when the longing to see him face to face was an ache in her chest that she knew could never be satisfied. How could she fulfill that desire when she knew nothing of him besides his name and number, besides the fact that he was one unforgettable face lost among a sea of identical faces? It was an impossible dream. And it was safe. The longing she felt. The desire that grew with the long years, her feelings and regard for a man she was so certain she would never, ever in her lifetime meet. A Sentinel could not afford to dwell on what could never be, and Jotopa strove to be the best in her generation. The darkness was growing, and even though every dream, every glimpse of his face filled her with light, she couldn’t afford to falter, not when there was so much work left undone.

Jotopa grappled with the shock of Worrier as she often saw him in her dreams and Toby as he was now. The reality of it. The way everything about him was even more overwhelming than in her dreams. For so long, she had only known him by the name his fellow cadets had given him. It burned, it clawed at her insides when the Council disseminated the alert, and she was finally able to provide a proper label for her honey-eyed Worrier: clone trooper. Slave soldier. Born to die in service to the Republic. And the Jedi were the ones chosen to lead them to their deaths. It grated. It grated in a way, Jotopa couldn’t wholly attribute to her morals.

Often, she wanted to reach out for him and stopped herself. Since the war began, she dreamed of him less. His mind was often out of her reach, and she hated how much that worried her. But worse was the crippling relief every time she felt his mind return from whatever deep levels of unconsciousness from which it had been trapped and reach out towards her. It wasn’t fair, but then, she thought as she swiftly moved from the easier katas and into the more intensive forms, life didn’t promise fairness. Her fault for getting attached to a man she wholly couldn’t have. That he was safe was important. That she had an opportunity to spend time with him, to admi- (study, she corrected herself hastily, sternly, cursing when her concentration broke, and she flubbed her backflip).

She landed as gracefully as she could and rubbed her temples in irritation. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and seconds later, the sounds of Toby shifting as he woke reached her. Jotopa sucked her teeth, stomping off towards the tree line. She needed a stick to run through her katas. That would help her concentrate, she decided firmly. And worst-case scenario, she could beat herself to death with it.

—

A week back in the welcoming bosom of the Jedi Temple was enough to convince Jotopa that she did not belong here anymore. The man who called himself her Master was kind enough to show her to their old suite of rooms. He’d maintained them all these years, and the fact that he one day intended to come to collect her like a suit left overlong at the dry cleaner’s hung heavy in every breath of recycled air she pulled into her lungs.

The young woman that the young cadet, once known as Worrier but now called Toby, watched was a stranger in her own home. This was a familiar dream. A well-trod memory. The dimensions of these rooms were as familiar to him as his sleeping tube on Kamino. He thought she must often think of it, like picking at a scab until it formed a scar that she in turn was unable to leave off.

Sometimes, she remembered her room best, the moment she walked in and saw that everything had been left just as it was when she left it years ago. She would touch the desk, run a nail-bitten finger through the fine layer of dust, a thick feeling rising in her throat and hurting her so much the echo of it resonated in his skin and bones when he woke. At times, she would linger in the kitchen; eyes fixed on objects he didn’t know the purpose of.

But today was different. Today, she went down the road less traveled. Today, she spoke to her Master.

D’Aleric was always on the couch, waiting for her. The Chiss Jedi Master was friendly, kind, and compassionate. Tousled, close-cropped hair. Warm, bone-crushing hugs that never failed to make her feel safe and wanted. Robes that smelled of home. That was the Master D’Aleric young Kadijah knew. That was the Master D’Aleric who sat waiting patiently for Jotopa Kaid. When they alighted upon her, his crimson eyes were sympathetic, as if she had disappointed him somehow, and it galled Toby every time that it seemed as if she agreed with the assessment. If he were able, he would gather her up and protect her from the honeyed poison of her Master’s soft gaze.

“Come sit, my dear. Let us review the basics.”

Pack rubbing a blister on his naked back and feeling more vulnerable than he had since the first time he jumped, with nothing but his blacks and a breather clamped between clenched teeth, into the raging Kaminoan sea, Toby followed Jotopa as she slowly picked a path through the dense jungle.

If Joker could see him now, even he, who never heard a joke that could crack the impenetrable fortress of his face, would be doubled over in laughter at his predicament. Many were the nights that Pyro and Checkmate crawled into his tube, the three of them passing snippets of bawdy one-liners they’d picked up from other batches and squads between each other, weaving them into ridiculous stories and jokes that made even Snow pause, and there was hardly anything that could put him off his dinner.

How many times had Joker told the three of them, and him especially, that if they spent less time karking around, maybe they’d know the regs frontways and backways like he did, eh?

Well, tell a guy something enough, and it finally gets through his thick head. His batchers would be proud. Four days had come and gone since their arrival on Cassios-7, and Toby had not spent the time idle. Since his hardy little Jetii woke the day after their crash landing, he made it his business to learn the immediate area around them like the back of his hand. It was vital for him to have an excellent working knowledge of his surroundings. With so many unknowns about their circumstances and with so much of their equipment currently inoperable, his Knight would be depending on him to know what to do and where to go at all times.

So it was with surprise and no small amount of pleasure when on the second full day of their stranding, she joined him in familiarizing herself with the lay of the land. She was skilled, nearly as proficient as he was in many tasks. The little beauty could count paces and subtly make landmarks with the best of his vode, better than some. The thought didn’t rankle. There was a familiarity about her actions that he couldn’t quite figure out, something about her besides her staggering beauty that drew him up short time and again. But that was fine. Patience was instilled in him by the finest trainers in the galaxy. Sooner or later, it would come to him. What was bothersome was her casual dependence, her easy confidence in the Force, and if he caught himself challenging her assumptions here and there just to see her dark eyes narrow or the quick upturn of her plush lips, well, that was his business.

Knight Kaid. Jotopa. She wanted him to call her Jotopa. Jotopa. Jotopa.

Jotopa was a ball of impatient energy. It became clear to him early on that she was content with a more rudimentary setup than he was. Though he supposed with a derisive snort, if he had some mystical power to depend upon, he would be too. Given how much she seemed to enjoy pressing him on more trivial matters, Toby expected a struggle when he cautiously broached the subject of pausing for a few days in their camp. But she surprised him again, looking up at him with an earnest expression in her lovely brown eyes, listening to his argument with a focus that made his skin feel hot, and then agreeing so readily he later questioned why he even brought it up. The way she looked at him when she said she trusted him to know when it was time to go still made his heart thud painfully in his chest. Despite the resolution he made then and there to stay as far away from her as possible, Toby nevertheless found himself gravitating to her side by the time the sun was setting.

Despite herself, by the third day, she was pacing the bounds of the camp, her eyes scanning the sky, her hands on her shapely hips, head tilted towards the barely visible Temple spire as if she could summon the artifact to her side through sheer will alone. Toby spent many unproductive hours hidden away in high vantage points watching her. Jotopa was up even earlier than he was, but he often woke in time to watch her doing her stretches and her exercises. He would lay, sleepy and still, and admire the graceful movements of her body, so much different than any Jetiise he had ever seen before. Later in the day, he would contrast her early morning serenity with the way she delicately balanced on the balls of her feet, looking like she would sprint off into the jungle at any moment. It was a curious thing that the only reason she did not was that he asked it of her.

But regardless of how much different she was from other Jetiise, despite how she made him feel things he wasn’t supposed to be feeling, Toby figured she was still just a Jetii. He knew how to deal with those.

Joker would most definitely be laughing his ass off at his big brother Worrier right now.

In his defense, she caught him off guard: hers were the first pair of breasts he had ever seen (not that the fact made him any less certain they were the most perfect and well-formed in the entire galaxy). And it was morning. He hadn’t even had his ration bar yet, for Prime’s sake! It wasn’t like he’d never seen breasts before; he’d gotten the same thorough sex education and anatomy flash training as every other cadet. And even if he didn’t spend nearly all of his conscious hours on missions, he was sure he wouldn't spend his time as some of his vode did, trawling the clone intranet looking at all the illegal porn there was available; there were always more entertaining things to do than that. But even if he had, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of her practically half-naked. He’d gawked at her like a dumb shiny, not sure what he should look at more: those parted full lips, her breasts in that ridiculous mesh top, those abs, those toned abs, or the alluring flare of her hips, aware in a profound way that the true answer was that he shouldn’t look at any of it.

Hard not to remember the way her dark areolas had tightened into tight little buds the longer he stared at her, thrusting so enticingly through her top that even now, his mouth watered. He was absolutely, miserably sure her skin was the softest thing he would never be allowed to touch and try as he might; Toby couldn’t figure where this conviction came from. At some point, she licked her lips (a move he followed with incredible attention) and asked him what his plans were for the day. He mentally thanked her for being precise. Maker only knew what might have come out of his mouth if she had been a little vaguer. Instead, through the rush of blood heading towards his groin, he’d told her that he was ready to make an attempt on the Temple. A lie, that. But one he would take to his grave.

If he thought about it, Toby knew he could easily recall innumerable situations that were much worse than this. Trekking through the jungle half-naked with only a knife to defend himself didn’t even touch his top twenty shitlist. Was it hot as fuck? Yes, even in halfsies, he was sweating his balls off, and even though every glimpse of her skin did nothing but reroute precious blood from his brain, Toby knew shedding the leather vest was the wiser decision. Was it noisy? Yes, loud as fuck, but it was nothing compared to 79’s when the Wolfpack rolled in fresh from a victory or in the Guard barracks that time Hound got ahold of contraband whiskey. And none of it so loud as cannons firing. He wasn’t the biggest fan of being without blasters and rifle, but Toby wouldn’t count himself an ARC trooper of any worth if he couldn’t adapt to that little handicap. Oh, and the biggest kicker: had he worked with worse Jetiise before? That was a resounding fuck, yes. He might have only known Jotopa Kaid for four and a half days, but in that time, she’d shown herself to have more honor, compassion, and grit than any Jetiise he’d ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on.

Just ahead of him, she stopped and crouched beside the trunk of a tree whose outstretched branches drooped with long, wispy vines. Carefully, Toby settled in next to her. The trees surrounding them created a thick canopy that obscured the sky, and the occasional shafts of light that pierced the quiet gloom were of indeterminate quality and impossible to tell time with. Among the trees, the air was hot and still, and at first, he wondered why his Jetii decided to break at this tree, but then he felt the slightest hint of a breeze cooling the sweat on his skin and picked up the faint movement of the draping vines. In the low light, their matching grins shone.

“I thought I sensed this break in the trees about a kilometer back, but I wanted to confirm,” she whispered. Toby tilted his head.

“How could you sense a change like that, sir?” He asked, curious despite himself. Though her expression remained the same, Toby was suddenly convinced she was self-conscious. She laughed softly, shrugging.

“The density of the Living Force changes in a clearing. It doesn’t empty, of course, because a clearing isn’t devoid of life, but it’s a different quality, you could say.” She cut her eyes away, cupped her elbows in her hands. “It was a hunch, anyway.”

Carefully, Toby parted the curtain of vines. “It was a good hunch, Jo,” he said as he looked out onto the clearing, taking note of the position of the sun and estimating that it was mid-morning. “The spire looks even closer from here.” At her indrawn breath, he looked back at her, only to find her staring at him open-mouthed.

“Sir? Are you alright?” He asked even as he shifted his position to check her for injuries. It hadn’t sounded like a noise of pain, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure, especially when they had limited medical supplies. She gently caught his hands in hers, halting his inspection.

“I’m alright, Toby,” she said, making a face. Toby cocked his head, eyebrows furrowing at this entirely new expression. A tendril of worry curled in his stomach, and he quickly reviewed their conversation, trying to locate his error so he could improve and she would smile at him again.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked when he drew a blank, and he tried to keep the anxiety out of his tone, choosing instead to stroke the pad of one thumb across the palm of her hand. Her’s were much softer than his by far, but even still, he felt the gun calluses on her fingers, felt the way work had toughened the skin. He didn’t need to take his gloves off for that: she often touched him on his arm and shoulder enough to sear her touch into his memory.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said vehemently, wresting one hand from him so she could rest it on his chest above his heart. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. You surprised me, is all.” The knot in his stomach loosened, a lazy warmth spreading through his chest at her touch.

“I surprised you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. She smiled, all teasing eyes and bright teeth, and the anxious knot dissolved completely. When she moved to slide past him and enter the clearing, he let her.

“You often do, Captain. It’s part of why I like you so much.” She threw over her shoulder, and Toby rolled his eyes, glad neither that she nor his batch brothers could see his dopey grin.

---

By late afternoon, Jotopa decided that either they were lost or something was afoot. The spire that seemed so close in the meadow at mid-morning break was not closer for all their walking. Several times over the hours, she or Toby would stop and carefully climb to the top of a tree and regain their bearings, assure themselves they had not gotten lost or were going in circles. Each time they confirmed the same facts: they were on the correct heading, and the Temple looked to be no more than a kilometer or two away.

And yet, the sun was beginning to tilt downwards, and they were no closer to the Temple than they were that morning.

Honestly, she should have noticed sooner. Any other mission, any other time, Jotopa knew she would have, but ever since her encounter with Toby in camp before they set off, her concentration had been...scattered.

A more mature Jedi would have already brushed the incident off. The entire thing wouldn’t have even been rated as being anything of note. What did it matter, someone like Master D’Aleric or Master Lidan would have reasoned, that her clone trooper was attracted to her? The galaxy was teeming with life and full of possibilities. Was she so immature as to think that she was immune to being looked at, and was she so weak that she couldn’t simply shrug it off, release what discomfort she might feel from his interest into the Force, and focus her attention on the task at hand? She was a Sentinel, a Jedi who lived among the people and the shadows and brought light to them. Discomfort was as much a part of her day-to-day as eating and drinking.

It was only that his interest didn’t make her uncomfortable. It scared her, but only because she had convinced herself that what she felt was internal and limited to her own foolishness. So to be frozen on the spot, heart in her throat, while he looked at her with an expression that was so nakedly hungry, she would have known exactly what he wanted even if his Force signature wasn’t a billowing swirl of desire and frustration. It made thinking difficult. Certainly, Jotopa didn’t think she could be faulted for that, but even so, she was supposed to be better than this. She expected better of herself than this.

With a soft sigh, the young Sentinel looked out of the corner of her eye at her companion. The armor he had worn when departing the Resolute reminded her in many ways of the armor members of her covert wore, and she supposed that made sense. He and all his vode were clones of the Mandalorian Jango Fett, and the irony of that was not lost to her. His pauldron, helmet, and chest plates had bolstered his aura of lethality. Looking at him now, with only his vambraces and gauntlets on, the calm, watchful expression on his face as they picked their way through the undergrowth, the careful way he marked trees as they went, Jotopa decided he looked more dangerous and more natural, like this.

When they broke through a tangle of trees and found themselves in a small copse, Jotopa called for a break.

“We’re not going in circles, but we’re not making any progress,” Toby said, getting straight to the point as he rummaged through their pack and tossed her water and a ration bar. Jotopa smiled around her swig of water. There was a tree, larger than all the others and twice as wide, its bark peeling in long grey strips, whose roots pushed out of the rich black soil and created a small depression of moss and leaves. Jotopa dropped her hands to her belt, intending to use her kama as a makeshift blanket. Behind her, Toby made a choked noise.

“A-Ah, let me,” he said, and in a few practiced motions, his kama was drawn from his hips and draped across the depression. Jotopa blinked.

“Oh. Thank you.” She said, gingerly sitting. His kama was made of pliable synth leather, the black painted with thick blue stripes. There were faint scratches in the material and what she recognized as blaster burns that had been lovingly cleaned and repaired. In the Force, the kama sang with his signature. Jotopa smiled softly and looked up to where Toby had taken a seat on a root to her left.

“So,” Toby started, rolling his water bottle between his hands, a pensive look on his sweaty face, “how is it that we’ve been walking through this jungle all day, and we’re no closer to the temple than when we started?”

Jotopa shrugged.

“It’s probably some Force osik. It usually is, in my experience.” She said casually, reaching out to pluck a large pink blossom and study it. It was large, requiring two hands to hold it, the petals rich and shot through with deep blue veins. The stamens pulsed purple in the dappled light above. Toby made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. She thought it might have been a mix of disbelief and irritation. Jotops hid her smile behind the flower.

“Sir, you don’t even know what that,” he pulled in a deep breath and seemed to reevaluate himself. When he continued, his tone was more level but no less skeptical, “Force osik, huh? An astute observation.”

“Hmm, I know. It’s almost like we’re on a planet steeped in Force energy, and our mission was to retrieve a powerful artifact of unknown power.” She said dryly.

“Point taken,” he said with a chuckle, and she ducked her head, unwilling to let him see how much his laugh affected her. It wasn’t fair how much she liked him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

“Where did you learn Mando’a?” He eventually asked in a tentative tone. Jotopa smiled down at the flower in her lap, stroked the soft petals between her fingers.

“My mother taught me. I’m a foundling.” She said and felt his confusion roll over her skin even before he voiced his question.

“A foundling? But,” he trailed off at her self-deprecating laugh, and she did not see the frown on his face, lost as she now was in her memories.

“It’s a little confusing, I know. When I was thirteen, my Master traded me for intel. It was the right thing to do: he saved an entire village of children with what he learned. I was given to a Mandalorian who adopted me, and I threw myself completely into that life. Until my Master returned for me three or so years later.”

The copse was still amongst the shrieking of the birds. Jotopa could hear him shifting, feel his confusion and an undercurrent of some emotion that ran too fast for her to grasp or understand.

“He gave you away, and you went back with him. Why?” His incredulous, angry tone made her laugh. The answer was so obvious.

“The Force, of course. It told me that if I became a Jedi, I would find something extraordinary.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Did you?” She looked up at him, smiled softly.

“Yes. I did.”

He huffed, feeling his face heat at her earnest expression. When she looked at him like that, he was never sure what to do, and it didn’t help that her story was too much like his dreams for comfort. Bad enough that it made his blood simmer in his dreams; in person, he was nearly boiling with rage. It didn’t take a genius to see how much it hurt to be traded away like that, like something that didn’t matter, and even if she excused it or said that it was the right thing to do, Toby knew in his guts, she was wrong. She deserved better than that.

“Well, whatever it was you found, I hope it was worth it to you, Jo,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and offering to help her stand with the other. She took it with a grateful smile, and he pulled her up effortlessly.

“I think we should head back to camp. What do you think?” She asked. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and considered a moment before nodding.

“Think so. If we’re lucky, we won’t encounter any night predators.” He said pessimistically, and she laughed.

“Looking on the bright side, I see. On the way back, would you mind telling me a little about yourself, please?” She asked, holding her arms out for the pack. He shot her an affronted look and shouldered it. Slightly put out, she checked their position and headed in the direction of the camp.

Grimacing, Toby walked behind her in silence for several minutes. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she could carry the weight, far from it, but it was just a small pack. He was used to carrying much heavier loads, and he hadn’t scratched the reserves of his stamina yet. Though she wasn’t making a big deal out of it, he could tell by the set of her shoulders and the way the air around her seemed a little dimmer that she was still upset, and that wasn’t something he wanted.

“I was in the Coruscant Guard before being assigned to General Skywalker,” he said, squinting up at the trees ahead. Her interest, of a different flavor than usual, lighter but still good, still very good, tingled over his skin. His mouth twitched up.

“Oh? What was that like?” She asked, and he didn’t know why he was surprised by how genuine the question was. It tied his tongue into knots.

“Ahh. Noisy.” He said, vastly understating the hell that was Guard service, and she giggled, which was something he liked very much. They walked in companionable silence for some distance.

“What about Anakin? Does he treat you well?” She asked just as they broke through the trees and entered their camp. The question drew Toby up short, and instead, he commented on what great time they made: the sun was still out.

“So it is. Chalk that up to more Force osik, huh?” Jotopa said teasingly. Toby nodded distractedly and let her pull him by the hand into camp.

#sw fic #sw oc #swtcw fanfic #clone trooper oc #jedi oc #star wars oc #black woman oc

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ffxivmingxiajiang · 4 years

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Prompt 15: Ache (The Sting of Inadequacy)

Grrrrr- gghhhhllll.

Foulques’ spear found its mark through the maw of a Coerthan croc. It fell over in a single strike, gurgling its last gasp as the life twitched out of it. He yanked the weapon out, marching resolutely towards Boulder Downs in search of bigger prey. It wasn’t enough.

He had been powerless.

Useless.

The victory against Garuda was spoiled. That...thing ate their prey like it was a midmorning snack, just as it had with both Titan and Ifrit. He couldn’t even tell who the victor in the battle was- Garuda hadn’t gone down yet, and he had been fully prepared to fight until a winner was decided.

The Ultima Weapon, though? Even he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take it and win. Hells, from the way his novice and the rest of them were acting, it only confirmed his assessment that trying to fight it head on would likely result in a quick death. But he wanted payback for it stealing his quarry. To that end, he would simply need to become stronger- much stronger.

He took on dragonflies, bateleurs, aevises, giants and wyverns- and found all of them lacking. None of them were enough of a challenge. None of them pushed him far enough. In the end, they were all beasts, nothing remotely close to what he wanted- no, needed to take down.

He stalked the snowy foothills, looking for a more worthy opponent- something bigger that would push him further than these mere trash mobs did.

A faint sound caught his attention- the telltale parting of air as someone approached from above with a weapon drawn. Barely turning his head, he met the oncoming lance with his own. "What kept you? I have been waiting for quite some time to take proper measure of you, Estinien."

A quick clash, a brief contest of strength, and they disengaged. "I am beginning to question the decision of the Eye in choosing someone so eager to throw away his own life."

Foulques spun his weapon once and pointed it at Estinien. “Yet your actions speak of an understanding of my motives. Say what you will, we are both after the same thing. Power to achieve our ends.”

“All of which will be wasted if you continue to act so recklessly.” Estinien replied, staring impassively through his visor at the younger man.

“Will you stop me, then?” Foulques challenged. “If so, I welcome your trial. If not, then get out of my way.”

“I see you will not be swayed. Very well. Let us reconvene upon the arches of Boulder Downs. There is a matter I would speak to you of,” Estinien said, abruptly turning and leaping skywards.

Curiosity piqued, Foulques made his way to the designated spot. There, Estinien briefed him and Alberic about his plans, and set Foulques with a mission, the particulars of which he heard from Alberic.

And it suited him just fine. Hunting, proving himself- it was something to work towards, something to soothe that burning ache in him to do more, grow stronger, take revenge for his stolen quarry. Truly, on days like this the silence and inactivity was the most maddening of all.

#ffxiv #foulques #foulques of the mist #lbr #ffxivwrite2020 #estinien #alberic #ffxivwrites2020 #dragoon level 45 quest #prompt 15

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demiboydemon · 4 years

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Keitor Month Day 12: Naxzela

Lotor ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to tame its unruliness but having no success.

“Quiznacking mice,” he grumbled, “Always stealing things. I should have eaten them when I had the chance.”

Lotor sighed and finally gave up trying to fix his hair without a comb.

‘Maybe I could borrow one?’ He thought, ‘But who has hair long enough to have a spare?’

Allura was out of the question. She wasn’t fond of Lotor and he did not wish to make her even less so by asking to borrow one of her possessions.

Coran would probably have a mustache comb, but Lotor didn’t want that anywhere near him.

Shiro had had long hair for a day or two when he had first been found, but had gotten a haircut soon after and probably didn’t have a comb.

Keith was the obvious choice, but Lotor worried his infatuation with Keith would become rather apparent if he just walked up and asked to borrow a comb like some sort of uncouth animal.

But as he knew that fear was silly, and since his comb was still missing and his hair wasn’t getting any tamer, he decided to go ask Keith.

Lotor got no answer when he knocked on Keith’s door.

‘He must not be here right now,’ Lotor thought, ‘I’ll just pop in and brush through my hair, then be on my way. No one will even have to know.’

Lotor opened the door to a sight that alarmed him. Keith was on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, crying.

“Keith?” Lotor asked, “Are you alright?”

Keith looked up at him. His eyes were red and puffy. His face was stained with tears. “Lotor? What the quiznack are you doing here?”

Lotor frowned. “I came to ask you if you had seen my comb. What are you doing?”

“This is my room.”

“No, I know why you’re here. My question is what are you doing?”

“I think you can see what I’m doing. Damn it,” Keith stood up and threw the blanket off himself, “I said I wouldn’t cry!”

Lotor stepped into Keith’s room and closed the door. “There’s no shame in showing your emotions.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You don’t show any at all!”

“That took me years of practice and punishment for messing up. I’m very glad that you went through no such thing.” Lotor thought back to his childhood, but quickly shoved away the unpleasant memories.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Lotor said, “What’s gotten you so upset?”

“At Naxzela,” Keith said.

“Naxzela? What about Naxzela?”

Keith said nothing for a long time.

“I almost died,” Keith finally whispered, just loudly enough for Lotor to hear. “I would have if you hadn’t shown up when you did. I wasn’t sure if it would work to save them, but I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit there and let them die. The universe needs them.”

‘The universe needs you, too. I need you, Keith.’ Lotor thought, but didn’t say. He didn’t think it would be helpful to make this about himself, so he chose to say nothing.

“No one even knows, Lotor!” Keith yelled, slamming his fist onto his desk. The momentum of his fist made the tears fly from Keith’s eyes, staining the paper next to him. Lotor hoped they weren’t important. “And if they did, they wouldn’t care!”

“Keith,” Lotor tried, “Your team cares about you. I’m sure that if you told them, they would be devastated.”

“That’s why I can’t tell them! I don’t know which would be worse, them being upset or them not being upset!”

“I see.”

“I’m just... I’m so sick of it!”

“Sick of what?”

“I’m so damn sick of being sad. And I’m sick of being angry. And I’m sick of being sick of things, and I’m sick of being in charge, and I’m sick of not being in charge, and I’m sick of being in love with someone as amazing as you when you could never feel that way about someone like me!”

‘Feel like that about someone like him?’ Lotor wondered. ‘Does he mean he likes me? If he’s feeling bad about himself, it doesn’t matter right now.’

Keith was still for a moment before realizing what he had said. “I- I didn’t mean-”

“What did you mean ‘someone like you?’” Lotor asked, taking Keith’s hand in his own. “That’s all I care about right now. Are you thinking badly of yourself?”

Lotor didn’t understand how Keith could see himself in a negative light. He was the most incredible person Lotor had ever met, but he knew that self doubt cared not for one’s abilities.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a failure. I was a terrible Black paladin, a terrible Blade of Mamora, and a terrible friend. And you... you’re amazing, Lotor. You’re so elegant and smart and you always know what to say.”

“I don’t,” Lotor replied, “And I’m not. And you’re not any of the things you said, either.”

“It’s just... you’re everything I wish I was.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve done that I hope you never have to do. I am not the perfect man you think me to be.”

Lotor sat on Keith’s bed and patted the space beside him. “Sit?”

Keith obliged. Lotor began to speak again. “I understand what you’re going through. You feel like a failure, like you’ve let people down. But if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, it’s that those who truly care about you will care about you regardless of your performance. Those who don’t never really cared, so they aren’t worth wasting your time on.”

“Are you talking about your generals?”

Lotor shook his head. “I’m talking about my father. I tried so hard to impress him, to prove to him that I could be a good son. I failed over and over again. I did terrible things for the sake of approval I would never receive. I could never succeed. It was an impossible task.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize. You weren’t at all responsible, nor was I. The problem was the person whose approval I was striving for.”

Lotor tentatively placed his arm around Keith’s shoulder, feeling pleased when Keith didn’t push it off.

“You feel scared. Scared because of what happened at Naxela, yes, but also scared that it could happen again and you would be powerless to stop it. Scared that you would be able to stop it, but would lose your life in the process. Scared that no one would mourn or miss you when you were gone.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t exactly help me feel better.”

“But you’re wrong, Keith. So many people would miss and mourn you. Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, Lance, Allura, Coran, Matt. And me. I would miss you dearly.”

“You would miss me?”

“Of course I would,” Lotor said, “Because someone like me could absolutely feel that way about someone like you.”

Lotor never did find his comb, but he didn’t mind. He found Keith, and that was even better.

@keitor-month-2020

#keith vld #lotor vld #we have the power of keitor and satan on our side #keitor #keitor month 2020 #vld #voltron #fanfiction

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four-loose-screws · 4 years

Text

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation (Gen II) - Chapter 7

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Chapter 7 - Earth Lance Gáe Bolg

T/W: Mention of likely one-sided romantic feelings between adopted siblings.

Travant ordered both Coruta's dragon knight unit and Princess Altena to deploy. With the empire's presence gone completely from the Thracian Peninsula, he considered this to be the perfect chance.

"Start by seizing Munster. Do not hold back against anyone who turns against you, even the citizens. Kill them all."

"Wait, Father!" Altena called out.

Altena wore the uniform of the Thracian Dragon Knights, and held her long brown hair back with a bandana. Her almond shaped eyes gave a bit of an intimidating impression, but when she put on her military uniform, it highlighted how brave and honorable she looked.

"I'll happily fight if the imperial army is our enemy, but there's no meaning in killing powerless civilians. Even if you say we'll fight with the empire, we should be happy to work with the liberation army. Why must we fight them?"

Prince Arion, General Hannibal, and a few other people held the same opinion as her, but she was the only one who was open about it with the king.

However, no matter what she said, Travant would not be swayed. "Altena! Are you trying to lecture me!? Do as I say! I will not allow you to talk back to me!"

"But…"

"Altena, do as Father says." Prince Arion said. He felt that their father would only get angrier the more they opposed him.

"Brother… I will." Altena said and bit her lip. Her dissatisfaction with her Father's orders did not go away, but she always believed in her brother's decisions.

'Big brother said he thinks the same as I do. He must have a reason for saying that.'

Deep down, the reason why she believed him was because of her love for him (though she did not realize it). And it was not just the love of a brother and sister, but something much more. Her feelings were simply locked away in the subconscious of her heart, so she did not notice them.

Travant watched her begin to leave the reception hall, and said, "Altena, have you finally agreed to deploy? You're a very strong-willed girl. Your mother was just as tough. Don't fight your blood."

"Altena means well, Father. Please be lenient with her." Arion interjected.

"I know that. You would speak the same words as her if you had the opportunity. Unifying with Northern Thracia has been our deepest wish for many long years. Our lands are barren, so the men are all hired as mercenaries, while being looked down upon as hyenas… And the women remain here to dig into the mountains' slopes, and must till their meager fields. If we continue to live here alone, then we will always be forced to live in poverty. Altena grew up in the palace, so she does not know what the people wish for."

The dragon knight unit lined up in front of Munster Castle.

"The liberation army that killed Bloom is still on the other side of the river. But only the citizens who revolted are currently at Munster Castle. And I've received reports that they know of our movements and are gradually running away. We should begin our attack straight away." Courta explained to Altena.

"Wait, Coruta. There's no reason for us to attack an enemy like that. I'll go and suggest to them that they surrender. Wait here for a bit."

"I can't do that. I was given specific orders by the king. No matter what you say to me, I cannot go easy on them.”

"I am your commanding officer. Are you going to ignore my order?"

"This is my unit, and I received my orders from His Majesty directly. If you disagree with that, then stay here and watch. We will attack on our own."

Coruta flew off and delivered his order to his soldiers. "All units, we will ambush the enemy! Those who resist will be killed! Now charge!"

The dragon knights all flew into the sky at once.

As she watched them fly towards Munster Castle, all Altena could think about was the tragedy that was about to unfold, and how infinitely powerless she felt.

'Maybe my views are wrong. ...No, they couldn't be. Brother agrees with me. Father and Coruta are the ones in the wrong. Even in the event that they win, killing civilians will make the people hate us, and do the exact opposite of unifying us.

But are Father and Coruta the only ones to blame? I couldn't do anything to stop either of them. Am I just as guilty as they are?’

The first dragon knights to try to fly over the castle wall were suddenly hit by the strongest gust of wind they'd ever experienced. Their dragons' wings twisted, and their bones, usually able to withstand anything during flight, snapped in an instant. Without the ability to stay in the air, they all began to drop like flies.

And it didn't end there, with another guest of wind assaulting the next group of dragons.

"Dodge! Just dodge it!" Coruta shouted, realizing this was no force of nature.

They cautiously made their way around the castle, until they found a single man standing atop the castle tower.

'Dammit, he's using wind magic!'

Faced with an enemy stronger than he thought there'd be, Coruta decided to change course and go after the citizens fleeing from the castle.

'If it's just that group, we can kill them all before they make it to the river.'

However, Seliph and the liberation army had just crossed the river. And to make matters even worse for Coruta's unit, the liberation army was much larger than they'd ever imagined, and had archers amongst their ranks, which dragon knights were weak against.

Coruta was only lost about what to do for a second.

'If your only other option is to run away, then choose to die a glorious death.'

That was the pride of the Thracian dragon knights, and a legend that had been passed down for generations.

'Even if our bodies should perish, our tales of bravery will live on.'

"Chaaaaaarge!" Coruta shouted, and led his unit in a dive bomb maneuver.

The enemy army grew larger and larger with each passing moment.

The moment he saw a bow, Coruta knew that an arrow had been shot at him.

As Altena watched Coruta's unit fight spectacularly yet tragically from a nearby mountain ridge, her feelings were very complicated. The regret of losing her allies, the blame she placed on herself for what she hadn't the chance to tell the unit, and the justification that made her sure this was not the way to fight, all swam around in her mind.

After watching the last dragon knight fall, Altena lightly pushed her knees into her dragon, signaling her mount to flap her wings and fly into the air.

She flew high into the air so that she would not be attacked, and slowly circled around the battlefield.

The liberation army had once again started marching towards Munster Castle.

'We weren't the only brave ones here.' Altena thought. 'What is the liberation army going to do next? Since we attacked them, they must now think of Thracia as their enemy. If they intend to march to Grannvale, then they'll travel through Thracia to get there. So they'll most likely attack Mease Castle next.'

There were only a few soldiers, led by General Maikov, stationed there.

'Maikov is a brave general, but there's no way he can defend the castle against an army as large as this one.' She turned her dragon towards Thracia Castle.

Meanwhile, from amongst the liberation army, Finn said to Prince Leif, "Lord Leif, please take a good look at that dragon knight."

"That one? I've looked up at them a few times already. They appear to be a woman, but I don't think that's uncommon in Thracia. And she seems to be bathed in light. Perhaps she's flying in a ray of sunlight?"

"Yes, that light is what I'm referring to. It looks just like the light of Crusader Njörun, which would also envelop your late father whenever he wielded Gáe Bolg. If I am correct, then she is wielding that lance right now. It id the one passed down through the Leonsterian royal family."

"What? Why would a female Thracian knight have Father's Gáe Bolg?"

"I don't know. The only thing I can think of is that she is your elder sister, who went missing when the Thracian Army attacked. Lady Altena seemed to be unharmed, but had gone missing with Gáe Bolg."

"But why would my older sister be with the Thracian Army?"

"My guess is that she was kidnapped by Travant, and he raised her as his own."

"I've heard that Travant is a coldhearted man, but he might have a small human heart inside him after all."

"No, I don't think that's it. Crusader Njörun's blood was passed down from Lord Quan to Lady Altena, so Travant must have wanted Gáe Bolg's power. It seems like something he would do."

"So he's tricked her, hasn't he? How could Travant be so horrible…? Finn, let's help her. I want to tell her the truth and team up to free Father and Mother of their regrets."

"You are the only one who can do that, Lord Leif. If her younger brother tries to persuade her, then she is likely to open her heart and listen to you. Please save the princess!"

"Of course I will! You always stop me from doing so, but when we fight with the dragon knights, I'll go on the front line. I'll risk my life, but try my hardest to persuade Big Sister! And if she's alive, that means…"

'That means I'm not alone anymore.’ Leif thought.

As a boy raised without any memory of his birth parents' love, he was starved to meet someone from his blood family.

He knew full well that Finn loved him. But that love was an extension of his loyalty to Quan and Ethlyn. Finn was a great guardian and teacher, but wasn't someone that Leif felt he could fully open up to about his troubles and worries.

Finn had said to Leif on countless occasions in the boy's youth, "Lord Leif, you are the next in line to become king of Leonster. You mustn't say such things."

Or sometimes it was, "You mustn't do such things." Other times it was, "You mustn't cry over such things."

"I understand, Finn. I won't say that ever again.” Leif would answer.

But deep down in his heart, he always muttered to himself, ‘Mother, why did you die and leave me here all alone? Why…?’

He also had that thought when he was living in hiding, and saw parents or siblings expressing love towards one another.

'Why am I the only one who's all alone?'

When he became so sad that he couldn't bear it anymore, he would find a place where no one else would find him, and cried.

'Mother, why did you die and leave me here all alone?'

So the news that his sister was alive (even if he couldn't confirm if it was true yet), made him happier than anything else in the world.

As he marched together with his unit, he imagined what his sister might look like. Then, he imagined successfully persuading her, and how they would hug each other, and be so happy...

'I'm not alone anymore!'

Seliph lowered the gate and entered Munster Castle, then met Ced inside.

"Hero Ced, many of the citizens' lives have been saved because of you. Thank you."

"I've waited so long for this moment to come… Lord Seliph, please save not only Thracia, but the entire world. The people are living in despair. Even in Munster, many children have been kidnapped and taken to Miletos Shrine. I couldn't save them. I am no hero, but a mere coward."

"No you're not! I couldn’t do anything by myself! I've made it this far because of everyone else's power. Hero Ced, I want you to join us."

"Understood, Lord Seliph. I will follow you to the ends of the earth." Ced took a step forward to shake Seliph's hand, but when he saw Lewyn standing behind Seliph, his hand froze. "Lord Seliph, who is that behind you?"

"Huh? Oh, this is my advisor. His name is Lewyn. He is Silesse's King Lewyn. Oh, that's right, I heard you're from Silesse, too!"

Ced did not answer Seliph, instead walking up to Lewyn. "Father… It's you, isn't it, Father?"

"Ced, it's been a long time since I saw you last. How have you been?"

"'How have I been?' I've been looking for you this entire time! Do you have any idea how many years have passed since you left!?"

"Now that you mention it, I do wonder how long it's been. How is Erinys?"

"How could you be so… Mother passed away! All she wanted was to see you one more time, and watch you pass Forseti on to me! That's why I went on my journey, to find you!"

"I see, so she's… How unfortunate."

"You're so cold, Father! You're finally heard that Mother died, yet you won’t shed even a single tear!"

"Ced, I don't have a wife, nor any children. That's what I have decided. I want you to think so from now on as well."

Ced glared at him in response.

Seliph knew very well that Lewyn was not a cold person, so he questioned his flippant response towards finally reuniting with Ced.

That night, the army held a modest celebration, where Ced and Fee realized they were brother and sister. That reunion was a happy one.

"Fee and Lewyn joined us in Isaach, so they've been face-to-face since then. Yet why haven't they called each other father and daughter?'

Though Seliph's trust in Lewyn did not change, the suspicion within his heart slowly began to grow.

#fire emblem #fe #fe4 #genealogy of the holy war #seliph #nintendo #super nintendo #snes #famicom #super famicom #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe4 suzuki novelization translation

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chancellormatt · 4 years

Text

Voltron Rewrite Episode Seventeen - A Black Day

Allura stares out of the shuttle viewport at the battle still raging outside. The shuttle is once again behind Coalition lines, which are now slowly retreating back from the colony planet. Energyfire tears back and forth between the two groups, as ships on either side continue to fall. Her eyes scan back and forth across the scene, as if searching for something.

The Atlas surges back to life, engine reviving in a flash of blue energy. “Atlas is back online!” Matt declares over the comm.

The Altas extends the blade from it's forearm and begins slashing apart encroaching galra ships.

“Are we ready for retreat, then?” Ryner asks.

“Not yet! We’re still waiting on Shiro!” Matt replies.

“And Keith!” Lance says.

The Atlas lets loose an energy blast that destroys half a dozen galra ships.

Nearby, the robeasts that were affected by the pulse begin to surge back to life as well. One moves for the Atlas and is knocked back by an arm blast. More rise to take its place. Soon the Atlas is battling half-a-dozen of the machines.

Allura watches it all, silently searching.

There is a sudden flash of light outside the viewport. Keith and Kosmo appear clinging to the outside of the shuttle. Allura stumbles back, agast.

Another flash and they are both inside. Keith immediately collapses to the floor. Allura rushes down to his side, pulling off his helmet. Keith coughs, eyes distant.

“Keith! Are you alright!?”

He coughs again, holding his side. He gives a slight shake of his head.

“This is Princess Allura! I’ve got Keith!” Allura states over the comm.

“Took him long enough.” Lance says, mockingly.

“What about Shiro?” Pidge asks.

Keith’s eyes immediately widen before going dark. He stares at Allura for an eternal moment.

“No…” She whispers, seeing an answer in his eyes.

In spite of his wincing pain, Keith reaches one hand over to the other wrist, activating his comm.

“Shiro...is gone...” He takes a shuddering breath. “...dead.”

“WHAT!?” Comes the collective response of Lance, Pidge and Hunk.

“Keith, what the hell are you talking about!?” Matt exclaims.

“Zarkon...Zarkon killed him. I saw it.”

“That’s not…” Matt stammers.

“He…he’s gone?” Hunk says with disbelief.

“We’ve got to try going back!” Pidge says suddenly.

“Yeah!” Lance agrees. “Maybe there’s a chance he-”

“I saw it!” Keith shouts. His eyes begin to well up.

“But we can’t just-”

“-Lance.” Allura cuts him off. “...now is the time to call the retreat. If we stay any longer the enemy will encircle us and we’ll all be trapped.”

The comm is silent for a moment.

“...lets move out.” Lance finally says, voice without strength.

The whole of the Coalition forces move back. The Atlas lingers for a few moments, still holding back the robeasts.

“...Matt. We’ve got to go.” Pidge says carefully.

For a moment, the Atlas continues to strike down robests. Finally a string of obscenities comes from the mecha’s comm, followed by the Atlas turning back to join the retreat.

Inside the shuttle Allura lets out a breath, and slides to the floor beside Keith. Her eyes well up. Hesitantly, she reaches out to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He flinches, so she pulls back and sits silently beside him. He stares off into nothing, and begins to cry.

It isn’t long before she is crying too.

***

Zarkon watches a feed of the Coalition ships as they retreat, then disappear. The holographic display vanishes, and he is left staring at the wall. He turns, watching a pair of galra soldiers, wrap up the body of Takashi Shirogane. His lifeless eyes stare at the ceiling before the bag finally zips up over his head.

Zarkon turns away, leaving the room. He walks with a slight limp, hand covering the spot where his armor was pierced.

His path takes him down to the hangar, where the other Dark Paladins have already convened. Honerva and Sendak look equally impassive. Lotor, on the other hand, is pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Raimon sits on the floor, staring down at the sword in his lap.

They all stand at attention when they notice Zarkon approach.

“That...was a disaster.” He says.

“I agree.” Lotor growls.

“Oh you do, do you?” Zarkon sneers. “Well you would know. After all, you had the simple task of making sure the prisoner didn’t escape!”

Lotor’s eyes burn. “And she wouldn’t have if the dome had slayed closed! Last I checked, that was a job you decided to take upon yourself!”

“You will watch your tone with me boy!” Zarkon bellows in reply. “...and what you imply.”

“Why!? You berate us for failure and perceived betrayal! Rage at any miniscule mistake! But when you allow an enemy paladin to creep inside our fortress, pry it wide open and-”

“One more word! And you will find out what real rage is!” Zarkon’s hands curl into fists.

“Stop this.” Honvera says coldly, stepping between the two. “There is very much at stake here, and time for squabbling is one thing we lack.” Sendak steps up beside her.

“Do not lecture me, woman!” Zarkon sneers. “If my boy is looking for a violent lesson, I will not deprive him of it!”

“I believe I have at least learned a moment of consideration on your part. From both of you.” She turns back to look pointedly at Lotor.

The Prince grits his teeth but says nothing and turns his gaze to the floor.

Zarkon is also silent for a moment. He gives curt gesture to continue.

“...good. You know what our true goal is. You know that all of this theatre of war, these games, are nothing. Just a way of reducing the uncertainties. The array has been completed. I’ve run and rerun the numbers. The odds are in our favor. The time is now. The very structure of this reality will soon be at your fingertips. Shall we not forgo the games to finish what we started? To ignore these children?”

“...the problem is that all these ‘children’ are threatening to throw a wrench in the whole star-burned thing.” Lotor spat.

“Mind your tongue around your mother.” Zarkon says distractedly. He appears to be thinking. “...very well. Honerva, go to the array and prepare it for the robeasts. Sendak, marshall all our forces, we’re leaving this place behind and reallocating everything we have on defending the array. Lotor…”

He studies the Prince for a moment.

“...try to keep any more of your alteans from running away.”

Lotor stares up at his father. “...only if you make sure not to let any more of those ‘children’ get the better of you.”

The Emperor smiles. Lotor steps back, uneasy.

Zarkon’s Black Lion flies into the hangar, carrying the other Black Lion in it's jaws. It drops the other Lion onto the floor with a deafening clang. The other Dark Paladins stare.

“Got the better of me, did he?” Zarkon chuckles as he turns to walk away.

He enters his lion and flies out of the bay.

Honerva lets out a breath. She turns to regard Lotor. “You know...your father’s temper is legendary. But you certainly seem to have inherited that trait.”

“I’m not like him!” Lotor’s scarred eye twitches. He turns away. “...not like him…” He continues to mutter the statement as he walks away. Honerva stares after him.

“Mistress?”

“Hm?” She turns to face Sendak, who is standing beside the powerless Black Lion.

“What shall we do with this?”

“Leave it there, for the moment. We can take it with us when we leave. As long as those other paladins don’t have it, they still can’t use Voltron.”

“Very well, Mistress. I shall see to our armies, then.”

“As you were.”

Both of them leave the Black Lion behind, dead and limp on the floor.

***

Admiral Sanda watches as three of the Lions of Voltron and one shuttle touch down onto the rocky ground. One by one the paladins file out of their lions.

Keith finally stumbled out of the shuttle, supported by Allura.

Sanda stepped forward to meet the downcast boy.

“...what happened?”

***

“...I see. So you succeeded in your mission of saving the Princess. But you lost a Lion in the process.” Sanda says, addressing the paladins from within the briefing room.

“And Shiro.” Keith says quietly, not looking up from the table.

“And Shiro.” Sanda repeats. She says nothing for a moment.

“...without-” Allura’s voice cracks. “-without the Black Lion, we still cannot form Voltron.”

Sanda turns her back to them, to stare at the wall. “...so we’re back where we started.”

“No, we’re not back where we started!” Keith shouts, slamming his fists down on the table. “We’re much, much worse off! Because now Shiro is dead! ” Keith’s hands clench into fists. “And you really don’t seem to give a damn~”

Sanda replies cooly, still not facing him. “Lieutenant Shirogane was a soldier. He knew what he was getting into. He wasn’t the first one I’ve lost, and I suspect he will not be the last.”

“He wasn’t just a soldier!”

“Boy you will watch your tone. We are still within my base. I understand you are emotional right now, but we will lose this fight if we don’t control our-”

“We’ll lose!?” Keith exclames. “We already have lost! We threw everything we had at Zarkon, and even Shiro couldn’t beat him!”

Keith stares down at the table for a moment, then storms out. He is quietly followed by the other paladins.

Matt along with a few of the other Coalition officials remain.

“...what?” Sanda says, half-turning to Matt. “Nothing to say?”

Matt stares at her for a moment before shaking his head.

“If...that’s the way you wanna play it...” He mutters, before getting up and leaving the room.

***

Keith marches down the corridor, darkness in his eyes.

“Hey, Keith!” Lance calls after him.

Keith keeps walking.

“Keith!” Says Allura this time.

Still he doesn’t reply. Lance runs up and catches hold of his arm. “Hey!”

Keith turns on him. “What?”

“Don’t...don’t you want to talk about this, man? Shiro just-”

“Shiro just died, Lance. And talking about it isn’t going to bring him back.

“Yeah but we’re a team, we should-”

“Team? Maybe to all of you, that’s what Shiro was. A teammate. But for a long time, before I even knew my own mother, he was the only family I had. So if you don’t mind-” He pulls his arm free of Lance’s grasp. “-I’d like to be alone for a while.”

Keith walks off and the other paladins are left staring.

“I...can’t believe he’s really gone.” Hunk says after a moment.

“It's a war Hunk, it was...bound to happen…” Pidge swallows hard.

“It's easy to say that, and understand the idea.” Allura says. “But actually losing someone is so much different. It feels like a hammer crushing your heart. It's a blow to the soul. And sometimes one that never fully heals...” She stares at the space where Keith used to stand.

Lance grits his teeth. “I know. That’s why we should all be dealing with this together.”

Hunk puts a hand on his arm. “It's Keith. This is just how he deals with stuff.”

Lance doesn’t reply for a moment. “...guess I just thought he was past leaving us all to fend for ourselves.”

Without another word, Lance turns and walks away in the opposite direction.

Eventually, Hunk sighs. “I...think I could use a little time, too. He nods to the other two before walking off himself.

Allura still stares off in the direction Keith went.

“Hey,” Pidge says. “We’re all...still trying to process this. But how are you holding up, yourself? You were being held prisoner by Zarkon a few hours ago.”

“...anything that happened to me is nothing compared to Shiro’s death. There is...a great deal to discuss about my ‘stay’ with the Dark Paladins. But this is not the time. Now is the time for grief.”

“If...you say so.”

“Thank you for asking, Pidge.”

She waves a dismissive hand, before walking off. After another moment of silence, Allura walks, in the direction Keith went.

***

The Castle of Lions rises above the craggy horizon, dwarfing the Garrison base. Coran stands in it's shadow, massaging his mustache.

“It's beautiful.” Allura says, stepping up beside him.

“Thank you, Princess.” Coran sighs. “I just wish we could appreciate it under better circumstances. Shiro was...well he was a true paladin. He won’t be forgotten.”

“Yes he will be.” Allura agrees. “He was the man who always thought himself unworthy, but constantly proved otherwise…”

She stares up at the Castle for a moment. “...Keith came by this way, didn’t he?”

“He did.” Coran nods.

“Do you know where he was headed?”

Coran nods to the Castle. “He wanted to know if the training room was operational.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“The truth. That it needs someone to test it out. He volunteered. And with the look on his face, I wasn’t about to turn him down.”

“Understandable.”

“You want to go talk to him?”

Allura considers. After a moment, she shakes her head. “...no. I’ll leave him be for the time being. As much I want to help Keith right now, I’m not ready. I’ve a bit more experience with death than the other Paladins. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. I’ve got to grieve just as he does. Besides…” Alllura notes a figure moving up the castle steps. “...I think someone else is on the job.”

***

Keith bashes his bayard against the gladiator bot’s staff. He swings his blade in a downward arc, like a hammer against an anvil. The bot’s legs buckle and it drops to the floor. Keith buries his bayard into the bot’s chest. The bot’s artificial muscles spasm, before it goes limp.

He stands in the middle of the Castle training room. The lighting is at a dim setting, leaving his face cast in deep shadows.

Keith rips his blade free and shouts, “Another!”

A hole opens up in the floor, and another gladiator bot rises up. Keith dashes towards it, blade tearing across in a horizontal arc. He clashes against the bot a few more times before taking out one of its legs. Off balance, he easily disarms the machine and separates it's head from its body.

Scowling, Keith kicks the limp bot.

“I think you got it.” A voice says from behind.

Keith whirls around to find Krolia standing near the entrance. He lowers his bayard.

“I heard what happened.” She says, eyes soft.

“Who hasn’t?” Keith shrugs tiredly. “Another!”

“...do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?

The floor opens up and yet another gladiator bot rises up from the floor. He charges after it. “...I went off to rescue Allura…” He says, his bayard locking against the bots staff. “...thought I was real smart by trapping Zarkon…” Keith forces the bot back, unleashing an onslaught of blows. “...only turns out I was the real one trapped!” The gladiator tries for a counter, but Keith knocks it aside and scores a hit on the bot’s shoulder. “And because I was too stupid, too overconfident and too weak, Shiro had to come save me.” Keith stabs his bayard through the bot’s head. The bot spasms and Keith pulls the blade free, letting it slide to the floor.

“...and then Zarkon killed him. Shiro died...because I wasn’t strong enough. Because I couldn’t beat Zarkon myself.”

Krolia steps up beside him. She doesn’t say anything at first, just joining him in staring down at the defeated bot. He opens his mouth as if to call for another one.

“-do you know what the two saddest days of my life were?”

Keith closes his mouth and gives a half-shake of his head.

“The first was the day I had to leave you and your father behind.” She gets a distant look. “It felt like I was leaving my heart behind. I never thought I’d ever feel so broken for the rest of my life. Until...until the day I found out your father died.”

Keith finally looks at her.

“That...that was like my heart being crushed. I’d left all those years ago to keep the two of you safe. But in the end he died anyway, and you were left alone. I couldn’t help thinking that I was wrong. That I should have stayed after all. And maybe if I had, your father would still be alive.”

“Maybe-” Keith’s voice cracks. “-maybe you should have.”

Krolia shrugs. “But that would have meant putting you in danger. I’ll never know what could have been. But I do know that I never was going to do anything that would risk your life. Even if...even if I knew I’d be leaving you all alone.” A bittersweet smile touches her lips. “But you weren’t alone were you? Not once Shiro found you. I was...so happy to find out that someone like him ended up looking after you. ”

Keith scoffs. “...but maybe that was his big mistake. Taking me in. Maybe if he hadn’t, he’d have found someone better to be his successor.” Keith's grip on his bayard tightens. “Someone stronger.”

“Even if I didn’t know him very well, I could tell how you meant to him. And I’m sure that if he were here right now, he’d tell you that he didn’t have a single regret. He saved you Keith, because he believed in you. And because he knew you could finish this.”

“But how!?” Keith demards. “We’ve thrown everything we have at them, and each tiny victory, every small win comes at a huge cost! I couldn’t even save Allura without losing Shiro and the Black Lion. We still can’t even form Voltron. And even if we could form Voltorn, I still don’t think I could beat him.”

“I don’t know Keith. I don’t have all the answers. But-

“-I...think I need some time to think.” Keith cuts her off.

Krolia studies him. “...alright.”

She steps closer, hesitantly at first, then pulls him into a hug. “...I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you back then. And I’m so sorry that this war has taken so much from you. But just don’t forget that...I’m here now. And so are a lot of other people who care about you.”

Keith hugs her back, not replying.

For a moment they stand there in silent embrace.

Then Krolia steps back, releasing him. She takes one more look at her son, before walking out of the room. Keith stares down for a moment, then raises his bayard, the black bayard, to study it.

“How am I supposed to do this without you, man?”

***

Pidge sits in the Holt family residence. She is on the couch, fidgeting with her hands. Matt lounges on another couch opposite her, eyes boring a hole in the floor. N-7 sits beside him, holding one of his arms.

Their parents are at the kitchen table, watching them with concerned expressions.

Pidge’s fidgeting grows more frantic. Her breath accelerates. She grits her teeth.

“This is wrong!” She shouts suddenly, launching to her feet.

“Pidge!” Colleen exclaimes.

“Shiro shouldn’t have died! It just doesn’t...doesn’t make any sense.” She says the words exhaustedly.

“Sometimes...these things don’t make sense.” Sam replies.

“But...If anyone deserved to live past all of this, it was him. After everything he pulled us through. All that he taught us. Every battle we won because of him. He deserved to live. It just...doesn’t add up.” She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think he even wanted to keep fighting. He gave up more than pretty much anyone, and just wanted to be able to leave it behind. But we wanted him out there.” She looks down at her hand. “...hell, I’m the one that made him a new arm.”

Sam chuckles. Pidge scowls.

“Sorry.” Sam shakes his head. “But you’re crazy if you think that Shiro was ever actually going to sit back while the rest of you fought. Sure, he thought he was unfit and came up with plenty of reasons why he should leave things to you kids. But even if you hadn’t made him that arm, I doubt he would have been able to stand by forever. Sooner or later, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself. That’s just the kind of guy Shiro was.”

...I know that.” Pidge says reluctantly. “In my head. But it still feels so wrong. It's like an...equation that doesn’t have a solution.”

“Not every problem has a solution. I’m a lot older than you, Katie. Shiro’s not the first person I’ve lost along the way. Death isn’t something we scientists can fix. Sometimes all you can do is cry. And that’s okay.”

Pidge’s shoulders slump and she sits back. “But that just feels so...useless.”

“That’s life, kiddo. It's not a math problem.”

Pidge still looks unsatisfied, but she nods.

After a brief pause, Matt lets out a grunt.

“While sitting down and crying seems great and all…” he rises. “...I’ve got something to take care of.”

“What’s that?” Pidge asks.

N-7 also looks up with a curious tilt of her head.

“Don’t worry. Let’s just say I’ve gotta do something that Shiro would want me to do.”

N-7 nods in apparent understanding. With that, Matt leaves.

***

Allura roams the halls of the garrison. She puts one foot in front of the other, as if the effort of walking is exhausting. Her path has no clear purpose. Her eyes are directed at the floor and have a distant light.

She almost runs into the door marking the end of the hallway. She hesitantly opens the door and peeks inside.

Inside is the mess hall, and at first glance it is empty. Allura is about to duck her head back out when something catches her eye.

“Hunk? Is that you back there?”

Sure enough, Hunk is behind the kitchen counter on the far side of the room, working on something.

“Hey Allura.

“What are you doing?”

“It's late enough that there aren’t going to be any more meals served tonight, so I asked if I could use the kitchen. I spent some time with the family but…” He shakes his head. “They were doing their best to comfort me, but it got a little suffocating.”

“I see. Well don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Actually, I could use someone to test-taste all this.”

Allura hesitates, then after a moment, nods and walks over. Her eyes widen as he peeks over the counter.

“Stars above! How much did you make?

Before her are a plethora of cakes, cookies, muffins and other pastries and deserts of all kinds.

“A lot. Kinda been cooking nonstop.”

He hands her a piece of cake. She takes a large bite.

“How is it?”

“Delicious as usual.” Allura smiles weakly and takes a seat on the bench behind her. “...at least that much hasn’t changed. You seem to be handling yourself well, in this most trying of time Hunk.”

“Well if it looks that way, it's just because I’m keeping myself busy. To be honest, I’m about this far away from a breakdown. Losing Shiro is...awful. But I can’t help thinking, does it end with him? Who else are we gonna lose before this is over?”

“Does...that mean you’re having second thoughts again?”

“No.” Hunk says immediately. “Even if I’m scared, even if I could die, I made my choice. I’m in this until the end.”

Allura smiles at that.

“...so, any word on Keith?”

Allura shakes her head. “His mother spoke to him, but other than that, no one’s seen much of him. Last I checked he was hanging around the canyon…”

***

Keith guns the engine on his hoverbike. He tears off down the ridge, kicking up a storm of dust in his wake. He rides deeper into the canyon, no regard for his own increasing speed. The two sides narrow and Keith makes the jump to the other side. His hoverbike bangs against the wall of the other side. He rides on.

He drives his bike back up to the top of the ridge, racing towards the cliff. Keith goes full throttle on the engine. It flies off the cliff, hovering in the air for a few quiet seconds. Then it dips back down, and Keith hugs his body against the bike. At the bottom, he can see the knife-shaped rock.

Keith hits the brakes.

The bike slows in the air, but not fast enough. The bottom of it smashes against the stone below. Keith’s body is rocked and he struggles to hang on. The engine sputters and gives out. The hoverbike crashes down to the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust. Coughing, Keith tries to reignite the engine. It wines for a moment, before giving out again.

Growling, Keith jumps off the hoverbike to look beneath it. The vehicle's undercarriage is severely dented, and smoke is leaking out of cracks.

“DAMMIT!” Keith swears, kicking the bike. He kicks it again and again. Finally panting, he turns away, putting his back to the broken bike.

The knife-shaped rock lies in front of him. The same one that had served as the finish line for Shiro and his races. The bike broke down barely a dozen feet away from it.

Keith stares at it a moment, before shaking his head and turning back around again, to walk back up the canyon.

Sometime later, an exhausted Keith pulls himself up onto a ledge, to sit down and stare at the setting sun.

***

Admiral Sanda sits alone in her dark office. The only light on in the room is a small lamp on her desk. She stares down at the small disc in her hands.

Matt Holt kicks open her door.

Sanda leaps to her feet. “Holt! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Matt’s face remains expressionless as he sizes up the room, noting it's dark interior, observing everything except Sanda herself.

Her eyes harden. “If you do not explain yourself right now, I’ll have you thrown off this base! I don’t care how you rank in that Coalition I’ll-”

“-you can fool all these other people, Sanda.” Matt shakes his head. “Make them think you’re this iron-hearted commander, who only cares about results. But there are two people who you could never fool. I’m one of ‘em. The other is dead.”

Sanda’s expression loses some of its strength. “...you’ve got something to say, I take it?”

“Not much. Shiro was like a brother to me. And that cuts deep. But I know that despite how you might pretend that none of this hurts you, he was like a son to you. And I’m not about to let you sit in this dark room all alone, without talking about that.”

Sanda swallows hard, staring down into her desk.

“Annnnd just in case you needed a little convincing, I heard that Shiro owed you a bottle of some of the hard stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t have any scotch but…” Matt holds up a bottle of purple liquid that glows softly. “...I do have this galran ale. Tastes like jet fuel and gives you a mother of all headaches in the morning. In other words, it's good stuff.”

“...I’m on duty.” Sanda objects, without much strength.

Matt puts on a confused expression. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you got off five minutes ago.”

Sanda stares at him for several silent moments. “...shut the door.”

Matt grins, shutting the door behind him. He sits down across Sanda while she pulls out two glasses.

Matt fills them both.

***

“Well why why the hell not!?”

Allura is walking down a hallway when she hears the exclamation. She quickens her pace and finds the source of the outburst from around a corner.

Lance is having what looks like a heated debate with Kolivan and a handful of other Blades.

“As I’ve told you,” Kolivan says with just a hint of aggravation, “the logistics of one of our operatives stealing back the Black Lion is outlandish. It's reportedly being held in our enemy’s most secure compound-”

“-Which we just broke into!”

“...yes, using methods that will not work twice, and in the process of which we lost the Lion in question.”

“What is...going on here?” Allura asks, tentatively.

“Well I’m trying to get to the bottom of why these superspy space-ninjas, that Keith likes to spend so much time around, won't bother trying to get back the Black Lion!”

“None of our men can fly the Black LIon. it wont fit inside a fighter or shuttle. The few operatives we have still implanted would need to steal a cruiser full of hundreds of galra soldiers just to be able to carry the blasted thing!”

“I’m hearing a whole lot of excuses, and not a lot of solutions!”

“Lance.” Allura says in a kind but firm tone. “I’m sure that Kolivan knows what he is talking about when he says that something isn’t possible. The Blades aren’t known to back down from a challenge.”

“Rest assured, getting back the Black Lion is our top priority. But at this moment there’s no clear way to do that. We’ll find out what Keith wants to do once-”

“Once he’s done sitting around moping, you mean!”

“Lance!” Allura scolds.

“What!? Last I checked we were still fighting a war!”

“We all need time to-”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have!”

“Then what do you want us to do, Lance? Do you have any idea what to do about the current situation? Because we all know what kind of situation we’re in. But shouting at people isn’t going to make anything better.”

He opens his mouth to speak, then seems to think better of it. He sighs.

“...sorry.” He directs it at both Allura and Kolivan.

“It’s alright.”

“Think I’ll...go to the shooting range. Clear my head.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Lance starts to walk down the hallway, but stops halfway down, with his back still to Allura.

“...any word from our fearless leader yet?”

“Afraid not.”

“Figures…”

***

“That man...was the greatest pilot to ever serve in the Garrison.” Sanda remarked, with slightly slurred words.

“I’ll drink to that.” Matt says, downing the rest of his glass.

He pours himself some more, taking note of just how little liquid there is left in the bottle.

“You know he thought I’d be mad, the day he broke my record on reentry?”

Matt chuckled. “Were you?”

“Hell no. That was one of my proudest moments as an instructor. Of course...I couldn’t let him know that. So I told him it was a little sloppy and put him on cleaning duty for the rest of the day.”

“And you call me a piece of work.”

“Oh he was fine. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get a big head. You gotta be careful with people as talented as Shiro. Otherwise they get overconfident and…”

“Turn out like me?”

“...yeah.”

Both of them chuckled at that. Sanda’s face quickly gets serious again.

“He should be in this chair right now. Always wanted him to take over.”

“Shiro? Behind a desk? You’d have had a hell of a time keeping him out of a cockpit.”

“Yeah. It was probably a pipe dream, anyway. I’m just so tired. Tired of seeing good men die. Tired of sitting in this damn chair.”

“...then why do you still do it?” Matt asks.

“Because someone’s got to.” She shrugs. “And because my best idea for a successor went and got himself killed. I know I’m...a little hard on my pilots.”

Matt scoffed,

“But that’s because I expect great things from them. Was I really so bad to serve under? Did you really hate being my subordinate so much you never even considered coming back?”

Matt shakes his head studying his drink. “Sanda you’re a good commander. Whatever barbs I throw at you, they’re just because it's fun getting on your nerves. Ask Pidge, I do it to her all the time. The reason I didn’t come back was because I knew I could do more good with the Coalition than I could down here. Serving in the Galaxy Garrison was an honor. But there’s people that need me more now. More than just earth. And besides...” He laughs to himself. “...I’m impatient. Do you have any idea what it's like to go from our shuttles to starship with FTL drives? Who in their right mind would wanna go back after that jump?”

Sanda chuckles, then studies him for a moment. “...I want you piloting the Atlas. Permanently.”

“You’re letting the drink talk for you.”

“I’m serious. It hurts to swallow my pride, this much but you are undoubtedly the man for the job. The coalition trusts you, and I trust you. You’re perfect. Shiro said so himself.”

“Now that’s just cheating.” Matt says, leaning back in his chair. He downs his drink again. “...fine. But don’t think I’m gonna suddenly start saluting you again.”

Sanda only smirks.

Her eyes fall on the small disc, sitting on her desk.

“You want some more?” Matt asked, indicating the bottle.

Sanda shakes her head. “No.I think I’ll sober up. There’s something I’ve been putting something off…”

***

Keith stares up at the stars, feet dangling over the edge of the cliff. He looks to be searching for something in the night sky. He doesn’t find it.

The sound of footsteps prompts Keith to tear his gaze away from the stars.

“Have you been out here all night?” Allura asks, walking up to stand beside him.

He nods.

“You should get some sleep. You took a beating in that battle.”

“Tried to. Didn’t take.”

Allura nods. “...do you mind if I sit here?”

“Depends. Are you going to try to tell me this isn’t my fault?”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything, actually.”

“Then have a seat.”

She does so, folding her legs beneath her.

For some time they sit in silence. A cool breeze brushes against them. Crickets chirp in the distance. A comet cuts across the night sky.

After what seems like an eternity, Keith speaks.

“...you know what the worst part is?”

Allura blinks, caught off guard. “...what?”

“I...keep expecting him to come by and give one of his famous speeches. He’ll tell me what I’m doing wrong, encourage me to trust in myself, and assure me that I’ll do just fine. And then, everything will seem okay. Whatever misgivings I had before will just melt away...”

Allura says nothing, only staring at Keith as he talks.

“...but that’s not going to happen. He’s gone. I’ll never get to hear one of those speeches again.” He picks up a stone and tosses it over the side. “So maybe you can tell me what I’m supposed to do. Do I just push all this pain aside and try to forget it? Tell the other paladins that everything’s going to be okay? That as long as we believe in each other, we’ll overcome anything? I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t think I’m strong enough to just let go of what I’m feeling.”

“...I wish I could tell you, Keith.” Allura says. “I wish I knew what to say, to make this right. But sometimes there just aren’t words. There’s nothing I can say that’ll make what’s happened better. I know that better than anyone.” Her eyes get distant.

It's Keith’s turn to study her. “...does it get easier?”

“...yes. Eventually.” She smiles weakly. “When altea was destroyed, I lost my father, my mother and everyone else I ever knew. It was just me and Coran when we went into cryo. Then, when I woke up there were five strange earthlings waiting for us. And I had no way of knowing they’d turn out to be the best friends I ever had. In the early days, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of everyone I’d lost. But you made it easier. All of you. You and Lance and Pidge and Hunk...and Shiro.”

Keith looks caught between smiling and crying.

“So yes, Keith. It does get easier. Especially if you’ve got the right people to pick you back up again, after the fall.”

Keith stares into Allura’s eyes, and for what seems an eternity, neither says a word. Finally, he looks away.

“...you look tired Allura. You should get some sleep.”

“...only if you do too.”

“I will.” He says. “I’m just gonna stay out another minute.”

“Alright. Good night, Keith.”

“Good night, Allura.”

With that, Allura gets up and leaves. Keith doesn’t stay much longer. He gets up, tosses another stone down into the canyon, and turns around to walk back to the base.

***

Keith is walking back down the garrison halls, when he nearly runs into Admiral Sanda.

“Keith.” She says with some surprise. “You’re still awake...good.”

“What is it?” He sighs.

Sanda stares at him for a moment, as if deciding something. She holds something tight in one hand. Letting out a breath, she opens her hand, presenting it to Keith.

He looks down with curiosity, at the disc in her palm.

“What is it?”

“Do you know what a Last Word is, Keith?”

“It's...an Old Garrison tradition, right? When a pilot was going on an especially dangerous mission, they’d leave a message behind, just in case they didn’t make it.”

She nods, then indicates the disc. “This is Shiro’s.”

“You mean-”

“One last message he recorded, not long before the battle. To be seen in the event of his death. It's for you.”

Keith’s eyes widened.

“Go on then, take it.”

Tentatively, Keith reaches down and picks up the disc. He turns it over in his hands, feeling it’s weight.

Sanda looks down at her boots. “I’m sorry I held onto it so long. I suppose I felt like giving this to you meant it was real. Foolish, I know. But I guess I’m getting sentimental with age.”

Keith looks at her as if seeing Sanda for the first time. “It's...alright. I understand wanting to hold onto the piece of him.”

She nods slowly. “...well then. I’ll leave you to it.”

And with that Sanda vanishes back down the darkened corridor. Keith is left staring at the disc. He starts walking.

It doesn’t take him to find a dark room with dozens of computers. He sits down at one, and turns it on.

Keith holds the disc up, staring at it. He lets out a long sigh and inserts the disc into the computer. For a moment nothing happens.

Then, Shiro’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro smiles. “If you’re watching this...well, I’m dead.”

Keith swallows hard.

“Sorry about that.” Shiro gets a bashful expression. “Hope I at least went out like a champ. Doing something heroic, you know? Anyway, I made this video for you specifically, for a couple of reasons. Firstly because there’s some things that I need to tell you from one leader to another. And secondly, because some of this might be hard to hear….”

Shiro takes a breath.

“...it's honestly a shock I lived as long as I did. This might be strange to hear, but for a while now it’s seemed like I’m on borrowed time. And I’m not just talking about having my soul pulled out and stuffed into a clone body. Although that..that didn’t help.” Shiro shivers. “...no this goes back much farther. Sanda could tell you all sorts of stories about how I almost got myself killed pulling crazy maneuvers back in the Garrison. But if I had to pinpoint when I first started feeling this way, it’d be when Sam, Matt and I were taken by the galra. Fighting in the pits, not knowing if next day would be my last…” He shakes his head. “...I thought I was going to die there. By all accounts, I should have. But fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it had other plans. Somehow, impossibly I ended up back on earth. And I became the Black Paladin. I had the job just long enough to make sure you could all do it without me. If there’s a reason I lived past everything I did, I think that’s it. To make sure all of you were ready to face what came next.”

He smiles and shakes his head. Keith’s hands tighten as he struggles to keep any sense of composure.

“And, in spite of everything I just said, there’s a part of me that really wishes I could have stayed in the Black Paladin, forever. Being a part of Voltron is the best thing that ever happened to me. And I cherish all the time I spent fighting in Voltron alongside you, Lance, Hunk and Pidge...but that’s the hard part of being a mentor. Knowing that one day, you’re going to have to step aside and let someone else take over. I know you’ve always wondered why I picked you to lead Voltron. It might seem kind of strange, since you always were such a loner. Well it was because out of everyone on that team, I knew you’d be able to take whatever the universe throws at you. No matter whatever grief or anger you’re feeling right now, I know you can get past it. Because you’re the toughest dang kid I ever met. Voltron’s yours now, Keith. And if any part of you ever questions that, I’ll tell you a secret that I think might make it a little easier:” Shiro grins. “Black was never really my color anyway.”

Keith’s eyes are wet, but for the first time since Shiro’s death he cracks a smile.

Shiro takes a breath. “Keith, this is my last lesson to you. I know you better than anyone else. Which is why I know you’re probably reacting to all by isolating yourself, and trying to shut the rest of the world out. That’s not your fault. You’re human. But you also aren’t the only one that’s going to be hurt by this. You’ve got a lot of people relying on you now. They need you Keith. And even if you don’t want to admit it, you need them too. Take it from me, it hurts a lot more to hold onto this stuff inside, than it does to let it out. They care about you, so let them in. It takes five to form Voltron. ”

Shiro sighs. “And now the hardest part. Goodbyes. Assuming I don’t get a chance, tell everyone that these past few years were the time of my life. I’m proud of how far each and every one of them has come. Especially you.” Shiro gets a distant smile. “Never got a chance to start a family of my own, but in a way that’s what you all were, to me. A family. And if ever had gotten a chance to have a son...I’d have wanted him to be like you. Goodbye, Keith. It's been a hell of a ride.”

The screen goes dark. The room goes silent.

“...look at that.” Keith says, tears streaming down his face. “You had one last speech in you, after all.”

He closes his eyes and sits back in the chair. “Thank you for everything, Shiro.” He whispers. “And goodbye.”

When his eyes open, they are filled with determination.

At the same time, millions of light-years away, inside the dome on the colony planet, the Black Lion’s eyes flash.

***

Lance blasts his rifle at the shooting range targets. About half of his shots miss entirely. Curiously, the other half either hit or are near the bullseyes. Lance keeps firing regardless of whether he hits or not.

“You know I could make you a new stabilizing bracelet.” Pidge says, approaching Lance from behind.

He half-turns to acknowledge her, then returns to facing the targets.

“It's fine. I’m sure you’ve got more important stuff to work on.” Lance fires at another target, missing entirely.

Pidge cringes.

“...it was getting better.” Lance explains. “Before...well you know.”

He fires again. Another miss.

“...you know what ticks me off?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re about to tell me?”

“The fact that no one else around here seems to remember that we’re fighting a war!” Another shot, another miss. “Shiro’s dead, yeah. But that doesn’t mean the bad guys are gonna stop working on their plan. We need the Black Lion back asap, or we aren’t gonna be able to stop them. We don’t have time to wait for Keith to get over the fact that Shiro’s gone.”

“Uh huh. And you are?”

“Huh?”

“You are over Shiro’s death already?”

“I’m trying to be practical.”

“No, I think you’re trying to fix a problem, so you don’t have to think about what happened. I know ‘cause my head was in the same place yesterday.”

“Oh yeah, and since when are you a master of psychology?”

“I’m not a master of psychology. Just a master of Lance being a doofus.”

“Wow, so now I’m an idiot for trying to actually deal with the problem at hand?”

“I didn’t mean…” Pidge sighs. “...I’m just saying I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, right now. None of us are. Some problems don’t have solutions.”

Lance hesitates. Then his eyes harden. “No...but I just thought of one for this one.”

He deactivates his bayard and marches out of the room. Pidge’s eyes widen.

“Lance?” She calls after him. “Oh quizank. Lance!”

She runs after him. Lance continues down the hallway, walking with a determined gait.

“Lance, what are you doing?” She says, running up next to him.

“We need the Black Lion, or we won't be able to form Voltorn. So then I’ll just take Red and go get it.”

Pidge blinks. Then stares. “You...you’re serious.”

“Sure am.”

“Lance that’s suicide!”

“Who says. Whatever anyone else around here believes, I’m actually a good pilot.”

“It's not a matter of skill, it's a matter of being literally impossible! We barely broke into the place with an entire fleet at our back! It would be insane to try it by yourself!”

“And that’s why they’ll never see it coming.” Lance quickens his pace, and Pidge has to struggle to keep up with the much longer-legged boy.

Some ways behind them, Hunk rounds a corner, looking curious.

“What’s going on, guys?”

“Lance is trying to do something stupid!” Pidge calls over her shoulder.

“Uh oh.”

Hunk starts to give chase as well.

Lance kicks open the exit door and strolls out.

It's raining outside. Clouds darken the sky, as their payload is released down to earth. The falling droplets beat against the four remaining lions, sitting in a row on the mud-covered ground. Lance moves towards Red.

Pidge and Hunk follow on his heels.

Pidge accesses her comm. “Allura you’d better get out here. Lance is about to take his lion and go after Black!”

“...wha..what!?” A groggy voice replies.

“Just hurry!”

Pidge catches Lance’s sleeve. “Lance!”

He stops in his tracks, frozen.

“Just...give this a second.” Desperation is thick in her voice.

“We don’t need to lose anyone else, Lance.” Hunk says. “Take a minute to calm down.”

Lance doesn’t reply.

“If you rush off like this…” Pidge has to take a moment to marshal her voice. “I...I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Yeah...well I don’t want people to die either!” He pulls his arm free. “So I’m going after Black. Because that’s the only way we have a chance of beating Zarkon!”

He starts walking towards Red again.

The door opens behind them and Allura stumbles back, looking disheveled.

“What is going on here!?”

“I’m going to do what needs to be done!” Lance calls back.

Allura looks to the other two for support, but they return helpless expressions.

“No one, is going anywhere...” A low but commanding voice says.

All turn to see Keith standing a few dozen feet to the side. He walks over, trudging through the mud.

“...not without thinking everything over, and coming up with a real plan for how to beat Zarkon.”

He stops in front of Lance, blocking his path to the Red Lion.

“Well look who finally decided to show up!” Lance exclames.

“I haven’t been around. I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”

Lance’s expression softens for a fraction of a second, before he shakes his head with anger. “Well, you’re a little late. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go get the lion you left behind.”

Lance tries to step around Keith, but he moves to block him again.

“It's being taken care of Lance. So please, stand down.”

Lance scowls. “Maybe I don’t want to follow the orders of a guy who only decides to be our leader when it's convenient for him!”

Keith winces at that.

Lance brushes past him, but Keith catches his arm.

“...let go.” Lance’s voice is ice.

“I’m not going to let yourself get killed, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes flash with anger.

He whirls around and punches Keith in the face.

The other paladins gasp. Keith stumbled back, looking shocked.

Even Lance looks down at his outstretched fist, as if not believing what he’d just done.

Then, Keith’s eyes harden. “Fine, if it's a fight you want.”

Keith whips a lightning-fast jab that takes Lance in the chin. Lance falls back, flood slipping under the wet ground. He goes down on one knee. Keith doesn’t press, seeing if Lance will stay down. He doesn’t. Eyes burning with rage, Lance launches himself at Keith.

“Keith!”

“Lance!”

Allura and Pidge yell respectively, moving to dash towards the boys. They are stopped by Hunk grabbing hold of both of them.

“Hunk what are you doing?” Pidge demands.

“We need to stop this madness!” Allura objects.

Hunk doesn’t say anything at first, still watching the two boys swing punches at each other.

“Why are you fighting now, Keith? Don’t you just want to run away like you always do!? Like when you left to be with the Blades!?”

“I never ran from anything, Lance! I only ever did what I thought was right for this team!”

“Well you were wrong!” Lance tackles Keith to the muddy ground.

“...no.” Hunk finally says.

“No!?” the girls exclaim in unison.

“No.” Hunk decides nodding to himself.

“They’ll kill each other!” Allura says.

“No, no they wont. Even if they’re a little emotional right now, they aren’t that dumb. There’s been a fire burning between those two since the moment they met. It’s been cooling down lately, since they’ve both been acting more mature. But now with Shiro gone it's been reignited. Everything’s raw, and they aren’t holding back anything anymore. They need to work this out now, or they’ll never be able to understand each other.”

The girls look like they want to continue to object, but Hunk remains impassive. Reluctantly, they stop resisting, and watch their friends fight.

Keith is trying to pull Lance into a headlock, but he keeps twisting free, slicked by the mud.

“Why couldn’t you just let me go, Keith!?” Lance says shoving his hand into Keith’s face. “I was trying to save the day for once!”

“Because dammit Lance, you’re acting like me!” Keith grabs Lance’s wrist and uses it to twist his arm back, pushing Lance down into the mud.

“And what’s that!?” Lance grunts.

“Like an idiot!”

“At least we can agree on that!” Lance manages to twist free of Keith’s hold, and knees the other boy in the side. Keith rolls back and it’s Lance's turn to try and pull off a headlock.

“Be honest…” Keith says, voice straining from Lance’s arm against his windpipe. “You always h-hated me. N-never...could stand how much better I was.” Keith elbows him in the gut once, twice, then three times. Lance’s grip weakens and Keith breaks it entirely, before shifting around to try to swing at his face.

Lance catches his arm, and forces Keith back down to the ground.

“Hate you? Keith, I wanted to be you! You were so good it was stupid! All I ever wanted was to prove I could be as good as you were! And then you go and become the leader, and I actually believed in you! I had no idea you’d run away to the Blades the first time it got hard!”

Keith kicks Lance off him and lurches to his feet.

“I came back didn’t I?”

“Yes, and that’s the worst part! I actually thought you were different now! But without Shiro you just turned back into the same brooding loner from before!”

“Well I’m sorry my grieving was so inconvenient for you Lance! I wish I had the privilege of not having to care that Shiro’s gone!”

“You aren’t the only one that misses him!” Lance bellows, throwing a punch at Keith’s head.

Keith sweeps Lance’s legs, but the other boy drags too. They both hit the ground hard, breath leaving their bodies.

“I know Lance!” Keith shouts, panting. “....I know. And...I’m sorry.”

Neither make a move towards the other. They both stay down, panting.

“...I’m not the best leader. Maybe not even a good one. But I’m trying, Lance. And I’m not going to stop trying, even if I keep screwing it up. It’s why…” He laughs hysterically. “...it's why I’m lying here in the mud with you right now.”

Lance doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“...you know I thought bringing the Black Lion back would break you out of what you were going through….but you couldn’t even let me have that could you?”

Keith chuckles at that. “...sorry to disappoint.”

Lance shakes his head. “I really am an idiot aren’t I? Did I really think I was going to go charge through the enemy’s army and bring back Black? And I was mad at you for not handling Shiro’s death well? Couldn’t even give you a few days of peace.”

“No, you were right. It probably wouldn’t have come to this if I’d been open with all of you from the beginning.”

“And miss this epic fight of ours?”

Both laugh, then wince. The droplets of rain start to fall away as the sky overhead begins to clear.

Seeing that the fight is over, Allura, Pidge and Hunk rush over.

“Are you alright!?” Allura asks, holding Keith’s head. He nods and she helps him up to a sitting position.

Pidge also helps Lance up. Then she punches him in the side.

“Ow!”

“Idiot.” She scolds.

“...fair enough.” He sighs.

“You two get everything out you wanted to?” Hunk asks.

Both nod.

“Good...so I guess now we need to think of an actual plan to get the Black Lion back.”

“Actually…” Keith says, looking up.

Lance squints up at a dark spot in the sky that is growing larger. His eyes widened.

Seconds later, the Black Lion smashes down into the stone just a few feet away.

“...how?”

“A trick I learned from Zarkon. If he can control his Lion without being inside so can we. But I only unlocked the ability...after I saw Shiro’s Last Word.”

Everyone is silent for a minute.

“...you know It's kind of funny,” Lance finally says. “Shiro was always the one too keep us from being at each other’s throats. Guess we kind of missed the point when we ended up fighting over him.”

Keith cracks a smile. “He probably wouldn’t be too surprised. We always did take too long to learn his lessons.”

“Yeah, just think about how long it took us to form Voltron for the second time!” Hunk points out.

“Allura shouting at us sure didn’t help.” Pidge puts in with a coy smile.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Allura says in mock offense. “But it must have been awfully hard for them to connect with someone they didn’t even know was a girl!”

“Most of them did, besides Lance over here.”

They all laugh. Keith smiles.

“Do you guys remember when Shiro got so mad because…”

From a distance away, Krolia watches the group.

Coran steps up beside her. “They’re more resilient than you might think, that lot.”

Krolia smiles. “I was worried about Keith. He had to deal with so much alone and I wasn’t there. I thought without Shiro he’d find himself alone again. But it looks like I was wrong. He’s found himself a great family to rely on, after all.”

With that, she turns on her heel, leaving the kids to talk and laugh and cry about their times with their fallen friend.

#shiro #keith #lance #allura #pidge #hunk #voltron #legendary defender #season 8 #rewrite #fix it fic #get ready for tears #i'm not crying you're crying

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braveskyered · 5 years

Text

Knights (Part 13)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

'Cause the world might do me in!

And there's nowhere to run!

There's no turning back!

Part 13: And There’s Nowhere to Run

- - - - - - -

…

What? What's going on?

I know I cannot be forgiven.

Is that... Why are...?

Even though I wasn't in full control, my actions were inexcusable.

No... My voice... I can't...

I do not blame him for what he did.

No... I deserve the blame.

If anything, I deserve this hell for all that happened.

No... I do... I deserve this punishment for what happened.

That being said...

N-No! No! Please! Stop it! Why is this happening?!

I will not let him become your plaything!

I just want to fix everything!

For it's you I hate the most!

Is that... too much to ask?

…

No! This can't be true! I...!

I never wanted this to happen!

Why did this have to happen to us?!

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

…

Please... why won't you pick up?

Why won't you answer?

I'm begging you...

I just want this to end...

...

When will the nightmare end?

It's all my fault... I made it worse...

All this suffering... is my fault.

How can I ever fix this?

...

…

The counter went down by the day. By the hour. By the minute. By the second.

By the heartbeat.

Once the countdown reaches zero, it will be all over.

And Arthur is powerless to stop it.

Arthur looked up, the guillotine's blade still remained high above his head. As the timer ticked on down. No matter where he moved, so did the blade. Once the timer ends, it will fall, and so will he. He will have no chance at getting away, no chance at getting home, no chance of holding his wife or children again.

No chance of fixing things.

He kept running through the halls that are shaded a deep purple. He remembered this place, the place that became the home of the wraith. It's the home that became his hell, the hell he escaped from. The hell he is forced to return to. His left arm is lost, leaving drops of red as he ran.

“Fuck, it's you I hate the most!”

He kept running, the roaring of the monster behind him is getting closer.

There are no flowers to guide him, only the candles that are sometimes lit and sometimes not with the same pink flames that defy all sense. There are no infant children for him to protect, nothing to hold him back from letting the monstrous wraith flying after him to take him prisoner like it tried to so many years ago, but couldn't because he escaped. There is no one he can go to. There is nothing else to live for.

...Why is he even trying at this point.

He stopped running and stood still, not looking back.

He could feel the hatred burning hotter, hatred that he must bear in the demon's place.

All of this happened because of him. It didn't matter that the demon took control of him, the fact that it happened at all still stands. He watched Lewis die, and he lived on without him. His search was all in vain, all because of him. He knew that he should have fought the demon off, but he couldn't because he is so weak. Everything went wrong.

All because of him.

“Lewis,” He muttered, not bothering to stop the tears from falling like it always did, “I know you hate me.”

He heard what sounded like a cord snapping. He looked up. The timer reached zero.

I know you never forgave me. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. No one should.

And the blade quickly started to fall.

“I'm so sorry.”

Something gently grabbed his left shoulder. He moved his head to see who it is.

“Elaine...?”

No. It's not Elaine. The shape isn't right. Too small. The hand didn't feel like a hand, it felt more like... hair?

A crashing sound. The blade missed him. Why? It was supposed to kill him. Kill him so the wraith will finally be at peace even though he didn't want to die.

What pulled him back?

“Daddy?”

Arthur opened his eyes, seeing a small figure next to him with bleary eyes. He blearily glanced at the clock to his right from the bed he was sleeping on. Was it three or five in the morning? He couldn't tell.

“Daddy? Daddy okay?” He could hear small whispers from a young voice.

“Vivian...” he whispered as he rubbed the tears away, allowing him to see better, “You should be asleep in your room.”

“Can't sleep,” Vivian frowned as her hair went away from Arthur's shoulder to back in its normal position.

...So Vivian can now use her hair as an “extra limb” of sorts. Interesting. How many abilities does this make? Floating (later flying), teleporting, telekinesis, going through the screen of almost any active electronic devices, spontaneous human combustion (he built sensors in her clothes for that one after she set herself on fire in the living room the first time that happened, that was fun), phasing through physical objects, having unnaturally high luck, and now prehensile hair... Arthur counted seven. Or was that eight? He gave up keeping track of the exact number, nowadays he only bothered to keep track of the more dangerous powers Vivian has.

All the others in the Knights family born before Vivian only have around two or three powers. Toddler has a new power? Must be a Tuesday. He mused to himself.

Although Vivian is said to be a Zashiki-Warashi, Arthur is beginning to have his doubts.

Eh... Guess that's another thing to worry about once they leave for Tempo, his family is used to seeing Vivian demonstrating a variety of powers and abilities. However, Arthur did remember Lance preferring to keep away from the paranormal side of things when he was still with the Mystery Skulls, so his uncle will probably freak out when his children show any signs of having powers.

...probably not a good time to think about too deeply right now.

Arthur glanced over to his left and saw that Elaine is still asleep. A part of him envied the fact that she's a heavy sleeper - unlike him - before shoving the feeling aside. He looked at the clock again, and saw that the time is almost four in the morning. He mentally groaned, knowing that he most likely wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for the rest of the night.

Still, he owed it to Vivian, since she saved him from the nightmares once again.

But he knew that he cannot rely on her forever. Sitting up, Arthur moved a bit to allow Vivian room to climb up, which she did and then climbed over him to be between him and Elaine. Once Vivian became comfortable, she soon curled up against Arthur's left side.

Just like your mother. Arthur thought sadly as he cupped his hand around the back of Vivian's head.

“Hm... Hm... Hm... Hm... Hmm...”

Arthur rose a brow when he heard Vivian mumbling something. Curiously, Vivian didn't try to sleep. Instead, she started humming a tune that is somewhat off key. It took him a bit, but then he realized it.

Is she humming the lullaby to me? Arthur's went still before smiling sadly. Oh, sweet little Vivian. You wouldn't be doing this if you knew the true lyrics.

If only Vivian knew just how heartbreaking the lullaby he hummed truly is. Still, it is his own fault that this happened. It's the only lullaby he could ever hum to the children, so it only made sense that no one in the family knew the true meaning of the song.

It is the song that speaks about leaving without anyone knowing, after all.

Gwen and Percy loved hearing it ever since they were born, and every once in a while, Arthur would catch the two cheerfully humming it at times. Although as soon as realize Arthur was in hearing range, the two would immediately stop and look uneasy. He, in turn, could only give them a small smile whenever that happens in hopes of hiding the pain.

Soon...

“Daddy not sleep?” He looked down and saw Vivian look upset. Right... the lullaby always helped getting her to sleep.

“Lullabies don't work on Daddy,” he whispered to her as he caressed Vivian's long hair, “It only works on little boys and girls like you.”

“Daddy...”

Vivian looked like she was about to cry. Normal children wouldn't understand, but Vivian is smart for a three-year-old, even if she can't speak very well. She always wanted to be near him, even more so than Gwen and Percy did when they were her age. Whether it had to do with her power going out of control at times, or whenever she felt lonely or scared, Arthur didn't know, nor could he care.

All he could care about is that he loves his daughter, and his other children, more than anything.

“Being with you, though, will always make Daddy happy.”

But once I go back there...

This time I might just disappear for real... and for good.

- - - - - - -

Friday came.

Arthur's heart pounded furiously in his chest.

Today is the dreaded day.

The day that Arthur and his family leave for Tempo.

The time where his days are numbered... has come.

“Aunt Morgan, is your bag already in here?”

“I did, Elaine. Did you pack the toiletry bag with everything we'll need?”

“Yep, and I brought your and Arthur's medications, too.”

Arthur looked behind him and saw Elaine and Morgan carefully packing everything into a large camper van. To his relief, neither of them seem to be concerned about the trip itself, but it didn't give him any comfort.

He really didn't want to go back, but he has no choice.

Because Mr. Yukino had paid the Knights family to handle a job in Tempo, Morgan offered in coming along so she can help care for Vivian while Elaine handles the job itself. This, of course, led to another problem, because the van that Elaine and Arthur have used to do their paranormal jobs cannot carry six people comfortably along with the luggage they'll need to take with them.

“Gwen, you remember to bring your hygiene products?”

“Mom, not so loud! And yes!”

The problem was solved shortly after when Morgan suggested to use the camper van she had recently purchased with her husband Miles a few months before. Normally, it allows up to five people to ride comfortably, but since Vivian is still a small child, it was decided that she can sleep with either the twins or with her parents.

“Mama? Nana?”

“Nana Niniane already went ahead by herself, Vivian. We'll be meeting her there.”

Arthur didn't mind, really. If his life is to end soon, then he wants to just hold on to Vivian for as long as he can until it's time to leave the world of living. Gwen and Percy are fourteen, which means that they will have that many years of memories with him in it. But Vivian will only have three years of it, and that's considered a stretch since there's a chance she won't remember him at all when time passes.

He isn't sure what hurts more. Him dying, or Vivian being unable to remember his face.

“Percy, did you get the charms for Vivian? We can't have any accidents.”

“I got it, Mom! I got some for us, too.”

There isn't anything he can do to stop this. Once he and the family reach Tempo, all the hatred he fled from will strike back with a vengeance. He'll have more bruises, more scratches, more injuries, more burns. No one, not even Elaine, will be able to protect him from the mental harm he will soon face.

Especially since he knows for a fact that the wraith still exists. It's not even a surprise at this point. A vengeful ghost, a wraith, will definitely still be around after so many years if it never gets the revenge it seeks.

And Arthur knew that he is the object of obsession.

“Arthur, are you almost ready?”

He snapped out of his thoughts when Elaine called out to him. In the spur of the moment, he picked up his suitcase and passed it to her. He made sure to pack plenty of long sleeve shirts and at least three thin scarves to cover his arms and neck. The hand-shaped burn scars are barely noticeable now, but he didn't want to explain why they're even there. Or give answers he knew he couldn't give. Fortunately, the nights over at Tempo tend to be cold at this time of year, so wearing thick clothing wouldn't be as suspicious.

The scars on his back are still there, much to his self disgust and self loathing. The wraith didn't hold back when it threw Arthur against the sharp--

“Final luggage check!”

Within the hour, after everything has been accounted for, with Morgan behind the wheel, Arthur and his family have officially started to make the journey towards Tempo. Elaine remained in the front passenger seat to help with directions, while Gwen and Percy were on a sofa discussing about things to do in Tempo and looking over homework from school. Lastly, Vivian remained beside Arthur, sleepy from the humming of the van's engine.

It reminded him of the times when Vivian would sleep in their usual van during their travels. A sweet memory, really.

As Arthur sat on one of the two beds in the back of the camper, he held on to the sleeping Vivian's hand with his left, barely feeling the warmth thanks to the technology Gwen and Percy had developed with his help.

Amazing how much technology has advanced...

At this point, though, Arthur knew he could not be saved. He knew he could only have this happiness for so long, and his time is almost up when the past comes to claim him.

But the question Elaine asked left him wondering about one thing...

What happened after he left?

- - - - - - -

“Before you left Tempo, did you know anyone named Lewis Pepper?”

Arthur went still, his body feeling numb.

“You don't need to tell me any specifics,” Elaine waved a hand at him, “I just need a 'Yes' or a 'No.' Did you know him at some point?”

Arthur took a moment to think. Lying to Elaine is out of the question, since all she and Morgan have to do is ask around Tempo and there would be a decent number of people who can say that it's true. He truly wanted to keep his friend's name clean. Vivian, still on her mother's lap, looked at him with curiosity.

Arthur knew that he can't lie in front of their children, he never could.

“Yes, I did,” he nodded, trying to remain composed, “He was... my best friend.”

Elaine gave him a contemplative look, “I see. This does explain a lot of things from what Mr. Yukino told me in his desperation. It's because of the demon that took your arm that Lewis died, right?”

So she knew that much. There's no point in hiding it from her anymore. How he wished she and the others didn't get involved in all this. He never wanted any of this.

There's no going back to the happy times anymore.

“When... When that demon took control of me... he was killed. When Lewis died, things changed... for the worse,” Arthur started to tremble, “I-I'm sorry, I... I-I couldn't...”

“I know,” Elaine used a thumb to wipe some tears out from Arthur's face, “You didn't deserve to go through all that. Even though that kitsune saved you, it still traumatized you. It's no wonder you had that episode back at the family reunion nine years ago. Or that time when Percy had his power awaken so suddenly.”

So she knows that Arthur had unwillingly killed Lewis.

...

Why?

Why isn't she angry?

Arthur pressed his left hand against his face, his right hand gripping his wrist. The emotional blow is too hard for him to take.

“It hurt, Elaine. It really did.”

“I know, my knight. I know. Honestly, I really do wish you had told me this earlier. I probably would've been able to help you so much earlier,” Elaine took his hands into her own and held tightly, “But after hearing everything from Mr. Yukino, I probably would've done the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

No, she wouldn't. She's strong, unlike him. She would've easily fought off the demon if it ever tried to take control of her. She has charms, blessings, and experience that prevent that from happening. He didn't have that luxury, and paid a price much to steep for him as a result of it.

And Lewis paid a price even steeper that his.

“Mama. Daddy.”

Both Arthur and Elaine looked down at Vivian, who is swaying from side to side, struggling to stay awake.

“Getting sleepy, baby?” Elaine smiled, “Okay, we'll get you to bed soon.”

“I'll take her home,” Arthur said as he took Vivian into his hold, “It's almost her nap time.”

“Arthur,” Elaine held his hand, “I know this whole thing is rough for you.”

An understatement, if anything.

“Do know this, my star. No matter what, my family and I will always be on your side. My grandmother trusted you ever since the day you came into our lives, and she told me that no matter what, you didn't do anything wrong. You did what you thought was right when you left that place.”

...Did he? He knew that it's no secret that he left on impulse, because if he didn't leave, then he would've suffered the one fate he did not want to have with the Mystery Skulls.

He knew that it wouldn't work.

It was wrong.

- - - - - - -

Arthur woke up from the bed he was sleeping on in the back of the camper. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and thanked the heavens they weren't pulled over or gotten into an accident. He looked to his left and saw that Vivian isn't with him. He knew that they haven't arrived in Tempo yet, so he isn't too worried, but...

He noticed that the sounds of the engine had ceased. Did they stop recently?

Yawning a little, Arthur sat up and noticed that no one is in the camper with him. Slightly alarmed, Arthur started to get up from the bed until he noticed a note located next to his pillow.

We went into the diner to get lunch. I didn't want to wake you up.

So if you see this, we should be back soon with your food.

Call me if you need to.

I love you, my star. ★

~ Elaine

Smiling a little, Arthur took the note and placed it in that old diary he kept. The handwritten notes from Elaine, his light, were always so precious...

The diary that he received from Elaine so long ago for his birthday before their marriage has many events, tips, and drawings recorded over a fifteen year time period. There aren't that many pages left, so Arthur left it and started using another one. The second diary only contained entries that told about the nightmares he had with the wraith trying to end him or take the children, entries where it mentioned achievements his children had accomplished no matter how small, entries where he and Elaine learned that they were having Vivian, strategies on how to care for Vivian and her ever growing abilities... the list goes on.

There is one other entry he wrote, the entry showing that Mr. Yukino had found and tracked him down. Just how did Mr. Yukino do it? How did that man successfully find him? Why? And to make things worse, the letter Uncle Lance had written to him only proved that he knew about Arthur being married with children. His handwriting on this entry is so erratic that it's almost illegible.

Just... how? How did they find out?

“Why?” Arthur asked no one with his voice cracking, “Why can't this just disappear already.”

He desperately wanted to go back home, back to Cantabile, away from the hell he escaped from so long ago. But he can't do that, he had already promised Elaine that he and the family would go to Tempo to see his uncle. No matter how much he is tempted to just take the camper and drive off (which is thrown out the window upon discovering that Elaine or Morgan took the keys), or just run away by foot to the nearest bus stop, Arthur knew that he cannot escape this fate.

But...

Is it so wrong for me to not want to let go of this happiness?

Honestly, his uncle isn't the problem, it's the fact that... well, the Mystery Skulls and their families could still be there. He had checked online that Kingsmen Mechanics is still going strong under Lance's name, and the reviews for it have been favorable for the most part. He didn't dare check on the state of the Pepper Paradiso, or how those people Vivi worked with at Tome Tomb were doing. It's for the best that he didn't get himself involved with them anymore. But now he's being forced to see all of that again. He could only hope that Elaine and the others wouldn't be interested in those locations, and that no one but his uncle were to try to contact him.

All I did is run away. Arthur thinks bitterly. I didn't have a choice. It was all I could do.

The sounds of keys being jostled with the camper door opening caught Arthur's attention. Within a minute, Elaine and Morgan returned with the kids, Vivian immediately running up to him and grabbing at his sleeve.

“Hey, Dad,” Percy smiled, “We didn't want to wake you, so we went in and ate already. We got you the sandwich you always like, according to Mom.”

Gwen walked up to Arthur to hand him a small paper bag. He took it and gave a small smile back, “Thanks, guys.”

“You should probably wait and eat that once we get back on the interstate,” Morgan said as she went into the driver's seat, “These roads are bumpy what with all the construction.”

Elaine, once it was her turn, came up to him and picked up Vivian, “We decided that we'll keep going until around 8:00 p.m., then we'll start looking for a hotel to sleep in for the night. Sound good?”

Arthur nodded, then took the time to embrace his wife and youngest daughter. Since his death is coming closer, Arthur wanted to take as much love and affection as he could get.

“Mmph...” Elaine moved back a bit to pinch at her nose with her free hand.

“Elaine?”

"Don't worry, Arthur, I'm fine,” Elaine took a deep breath before smiling at him, “I'm just a bit tired from driving all day. The menopause isn't helping either, heh,” she then turned to the children, “Okay, you two, we need to sit down so Aunt Morgan can get us out of here. You ready?”

When Morgan drove the camper to the interstate, Arthur opened the bag and found that a fish hoagie is inside.

One of his favorites, he notes. Rather fitting for it to be among his last meals.

- - - - - - -

Although Arthur dreaded it, he knew that he cannot just turn around and go back.

Elaine would tell him that he needs to face his past, or he can't truly move forward, or something like that. Normally, he'd agree with her, but considering the reasons on why he left Tempo, he isn't looking forward to letting the Mystery Skulls and their acquaintances meet the family he married into and had a family with. The only thing that kept Arthur from refusing completely is Lance's letter saying they will not be involved if that is what he wishes.

Even so, regardless of the fact that Lance knows about his wife and children, Arthur couldn't bring himself to call Kingsmen Mechanics. He's pretty sure Morgan did last night when they found a decent motel located on the Arkansas-Texas border, but she volunteered to sleep in the camper so they didn't have to pay for an extra room, so she might have called Caelia, or Vivienne, or even Miles to check in for all he knows.

Currently, Arthur is driving the last stretch to Tempo, since he knows the general route despite not being in the area for so long. The sun had already set and the sky has reached civil twilight, but when Arthur checked the GPS for the arrival time to Kingsmen Mechanics, they will most likely reach the place in just about two hours at around nine. He had already convinced Elaine that they check into the hotel they reserved first and meet Lance the following day. Arthur knows more than anyone that once Lance closes up the repair shop for the night, he's usually not keen for guests.

Elaine and Morgan are in their seats, the former snoozing and the latter reading a book. Morgan made it a rule during the drive that if possible, there are to be at least two of them awake. That way if Arthur gets tired, Morgan can take over, and Arthur can then wake Elaine to be the backup driver after Morgan if needed, and then Arthur could sleep himself.

Gwen and Percy are in their seats alongside Vivian, who is currently asleep in her seat with a blanket and the fog/dog doll she got for her birthday. Arthur refused to let the kids sleep on the bed, citing safety and legal regulations. None of them were too thrilled about it, but they didn't complain after Arthur pointed out that even though he appreciated the thought of letting him sleep yesterday was thoughtful, it was still a safety hazard.

As Arthur drove, the twilight gradually went darker, and soon after he could see a small town far out in the horizon to the left and below the cliffs they're currently driving over.

Tempo...

From afar, it doesn't look like it has changed much. It still looks like a rather small town like how it was seventeen years ago. He left at twenty-two, and came back at thirty-nine, almost nearing the age of forty.

It's been so long. Even now, I don't want to go back.

But I don't have a choice.

Arthur made sure to keep the camper going at an appropriate speed, even going a bit under the typical speed limit the rural road has here. He couldn't help but be on edge as he saw the moon high up in the sky, and the sky is becoming completely dark now.

He then took a moment to get his right hand off the steering wheel to gently touch the moon pin on his jacket, just above his heart. While it's original purpose is to be a protective charm and a sign of love from Elaine, Arthur inwardly bit his tongue at the additional function he added to it. He could only hope that he will have the moon pin with him even after he dies, for the secrets it carried for so long could be revealed to the world, and he didn't want that.

They'll always be close to my heart.

Arthur pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel. The awful feeling of being on edge lingered, but he tried to ignore it. It wouldn't do him any good if he let his nerves get the better of him and made a stupid move that could send them off the cliff. Arthur quickly shook his head to get that image out of his head. He needed to get a hold of himself. To keep his mind off the crazy thoughts, Arthur turned on the radio and set it at a low volume to keep it from potentially waking Elaine and Vivian. He didn't know if the station in the area still works, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

♪

--every song...

Reminds me that you gave up!

You sold me out...

♪

For some reason, the music brought a chill up his spine. He tried to ignore it by lowering the volume even more and kept driving. The song kept going as usual, but then, he thought he heard static. He shrugged it off. This area doesn't always get the best reception, if he remembered right.

“Uh, Arthur?” Morgan quietly called out to him, “Why are we slowing down?”

...Say what?

Arthur looked down at the dashboard. Sure enough, the speed indicator is showing that the camper is decelerating. His foot is on the pedal, so why is it--?

The static.

He immediately froze as the camper came to a stop. Not wanting to believe it, he turned the key a few times to see if he could get it to crank, but it isn't working.

"Seriously?" Gwen let out an annoyed scoff, "Did it just break down right at the last stretch?"

Immediately after, his back felt hot and his fingers trembled as he realized why he was so on edge. Wordlessly, he turned to look at the side mirror, and could only look in terror.

They're on the same road where the wraith had chased him so long ago, and it has every intention to do it again.

On impulse, Arthur lifted his left fist.

“Dad, what are you--?”

And slammed it down on the top of the dashboard.

“Daddy!”

A shock of familiar pain went through his body. He resisted the urge to cry out.

“W-What's going on?!”

Elaine's voice.

His arm fell limp, unmoving.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

I’ve been hellbent, babe...

Part 14: It’s been too long, babe...

#mystery skulls animated #msa fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #msa arthur #arthur kingsmen #msa #msa knights

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

CSUAVS prt 33 update... I've been slowed to a crawl, but a cold, video games, allergies, and lack of no itch shall not stop me

Flying the fighter jet was a little lonely. Unlike the Telula, Keith's ship didn't have the same grav-hook system. The hooks they did have were for a smaller pod sized craft, not something with the curved roof and wide span of a fighter jet. Also, his ship wasn't as fast as the fighter jet, meaning he'd left them all behind quintants ago, carrying out the initial part of the plan alone. Zac had written a new program code that would calculate the time differences between the outpost and the planet they'd decided to land on to wait for him. With quintants passing during what would be vargas for him, it felt mean to keep his team confined to such a small space for what could possibly be a movement or even two with no contact. Reaching the entrance to the space that would lead him through to the outpost, Keith had managed to turn the movement long trip into two and half quintants. Taking a moment to stare at the unsuspecting area of space, he took a deep breath to calm his heart. In a few vargas he'd be taken in to custody at the outpost. In a few vargas he was either going to be reunited with Lance, or be the target of whatever nefarious plot was being schemed up. That police chief's cryptic message was still as cryptic as when he'd told him to look into his allies. Allies weren't his problem... Weird arse cults were his problem. Cults that should have died when the head was cut off... or when their second head was cut off. The more he thought about it, the happier he was to wait when it came to blow jobs... not that he'd force Lance into something like that, he just preferred being attached to his dick... Pushing forward on the control stick for the jet, Keith nodded to himself. If he stayed there then he'd never find the answers he and Lance had been searching for. * Landing in front of the outpost, the building was just as unappealing as it had been the first time. Standing in front of the landing space, several armed aliens looked extremely annoyed as they locked eyes with him. Well, Keith assumed they were trying to behind the jet's tinted windscreen. His approach would have been picked up by the outpost scanners and any outgoing signals, that might have made it out past the magnetic waves, were probably now jammed by the outpost. Lance had been the one who knew all of this personally, so without him there as back up, the half-Galra found himself taking everything Daehra and Zak said with a grain of salt. They'd told him that once the control room of the outpost had been captured, he'd be able to notify him over the success of his mission. They'd settled on three quintants for him to complete the mission alone, though that could change depending on what kind of condition Lance was in. If his idiot husband? was too badly wounded, he'd be upping that schedule... Even if that meant escaping without any new information and pissing Lance off in the process. Nothing they could learn was worth the life of the love of his life. Absolutely nothing. Climbing out the fighter jet, Keith raised his hands. He wasn't carrying anything weapon wise and would be relying on his own strength to complete his part in the part. Seeing him unarmed, the officers waiting for him rushed him. Two on each side as his arms were seized and his legs kicked out, his head hanging as he fought to control the impulse to fight back "What are you doing here?! Identify yourself" Identify himself? He hadn't expected that bit. Shoving a blaster in his face, Keith's head was forced up with the muzzle "It's him. The one who caused the trouble last time. Why are you here?!" If this was Lance, Lance would have some terribly witty line "I'm here to blow your outpost up" Raising the blaster out of his face, the man armed the weapon. Apparently he hadn't been witty by supplying most of the truth "We don't have time to deal with rats... Why are you really here?" "Sightseeing. You know, Leandro said this place has a fantastic view" Lowering the weapon, Keith's arms were twisted behind his back as the man brought a hand to his ear, turning away as he spoke into his hidden comms. After a few ticks of asking what whoever in command wanted done with him, anger formed on the man's face at the reply as he turned back to face the group "He's Leandro's friend from Daibazaal. The half-Galra, Keith. Cuff him. They want him in one piece. If he's here, then Leandro will come for him. They are rumoured to be involved" Keith's heart kind of soared, or maybe it have a sideways step and strong thump at the fact Lance wasn't there. But if Lance wasn't there, then where was he? If he was making his way out here, they should have run into him. Th'al's ship should have been picked up on the fighter jet's scanner... Was it possible they'd flown right past each other? Or had the sensors been damaged and not repaired by Acxa? And hold up... how did they know that he and Lance were involved? They hadn't exactly made it public... it was kind of an open secret on the Telula, and a Shiro and Curtis secret on the Atlas... because they both had no self control when they were drunk. After what had happened in the briefing, he doubted Krolia would put her foot in it further... Was this what the police chief had meant about their allies? That there was someone deliberately feeding information to whoever was after Lance? In that case, who? It wasn't his team. Ezor had a big mouth, but she also had a kind heart that she liked to hide deep down. No one on the Atlas had been out to this sector of space. Lucteal and Daehra seemed loyal to Lance... He really couldn't imagine either sibling spilling the gossip. Zac was... Zak. Lance had literally saved his life, and trusted him enough to allow him to design all the ship's security. After what he'd been through, Lance would have wanted to feel completely safe on the Telula. His fragile mental healthy wouldn't have been able to handle anything happening to his team. Th'al was an unknown, but Lance trusted her enough to be with her... so who was left? The three they'd dropped off at the rebel camp... and Tobias. Tobias was... simply there... and he wouldn't be simply there if Lance didn't trust him, same with the others... "Bring him to the cells. They want to monitor him. He's an excellent specimen of mixed genetics" Pushed and pulled from his thoughts, Keith got to his feet. His mind still firmly trying to figure out this riddle. He wanted to trust Lance's judgement. But the little voice in the back of his head decided it needed to pop up and remind him that Lance had been fooled by Klearo. He'd been tortured and... because he'd been too trusting. In that case, it could be anyone from the Telula... No... He and Lance had "broken in" before. "Involved" didn't necessarily mean "dating" it could mean "partners in crime", which they were... But thinking like that, wasn't that too hopeful? He didn't have any answers for all the questions in his mind, annoyingly, Shiro's words came to mind "patience yields focus". He was going to have to be patent, and hope that some kind of focus magically appeared because otherwise he was simply lost in the dark on all of this. Or maybe he could focus really hard in the cell and patience would magically appear. Either way, he should be happier than he currently was because Lance wasn't there with him. With a little luck this would all be over by the time Lance arrived, excellent specimen or not... plus, he had no intentions of playing the perfect and model prisoner should they go to lay hands on him in any experimental way. He doubted that the cells could hold him in, especially if there was a vent in the space, if they were using such low technology as manual handcuffs. Escorted through the front doors of the outpost, Keith couldn't help it as his mind dredged up the memories of the time he'd spent running through the halls in a blind panic with Lance. It seemed like a lifetime ago, yet at the same time, it seemed like only a hand full of quintants had passed. The half-Galra could almost hear Lance's voice in his mind as he screamed over the bloodied room and the man who'd torn his innocence from him. If the mission to find answers over everything wasn't so necessary, Keith would have been happy to throw down right there. He'd be more than happy to reduce the outpost to a pile of burning rubble, along with each member of staff currently inside. It was revolting to think that behind the doors they were approaching parts of aliens were tagged and bagged, ready to be shipped off to eager buyers all over the universe. Dragged to the front desk area where scans were normally performed, Keith jumped as he felt one of the men pull free a sample of his hair. Growling at the stranger only served to make the man laugh, before the leader of the group was grabbing him by the jaw and forcing his mouth open in order to shove some kind of swab inside. Biting down and resisting, the man delivered a hard jab against his sore ribs, Keith opening his mouth to gasp in pain which allowed the swab to be retrieved. "Make no mistake. Your status as a specimen is guaranteed, alive or dead" There was no room for misinterpretation in the man's cool tone. His words deadly serious as he passed the swab stick over to the officer at the desk. In too much pain to focus, he missed the question asked of him, his accidental lack of cooperation resulting in him being grabbed by the back of the head and having his face smashed into thick stone counter twice "Insolent scum. Take him to the back cell. They'll be here for him soon enough" With an aching head, a chest that felt like it was stuffed full of broken glass, and anger boiling in his blood, Keith grit his teeth together as he forced forward like a powerless fool. He could have replied, or thrown his mother's status in their faces, pointing out the fact they'd taken the son of the ruler of Daibazaal, but Keith liked to think he took the higher road by not giving them the satisfaction of a reply. None of any of this had to do with the fact his head was spinning as his stomach rolled, and if he didn't bite down the pain he'd probably throw up on his feet. No. He wasn't going to give them anything they could turn against him, or use to humiliate him further then the damn cuffs he was in. He'd watched and he'd wait, and when the time was ready, he'd do what needed to be done. ** Roused from his near nap state by Lance's wheezing cough Keith moved to kneel, his hand coming up to brush Lance's sweaty fringe from his forehead. His heart had sunk when he'd heard Lance's voice, at first he wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating his lover's voice until Lance was thrown into the same cell as him. Having been left in the cold dark space, he'd spent most of his time laying on the thin mattress in an attempt to let his body heal as much as was physically possible before they decided to explore how good of a specimen he actually was. There was a small vent in the ceiling above the cell, but it was too high for him to climb up and unscrew alone. Plus, he had the feeling his shoulders wouldn't fit through the gap... His plan might have been ruined, if not for Lance's arrival, despite his desperate desire not to involve his husband. "Lance? Babe?" Coughing and gasping, Lance grabbed for him. Keith wincing as he took a finger to the eye. It was far too dark for Lance to see, even Keith's heightened senses were struggling with the inky blackness of the place. The red flickering light at the end of the hall only seemed to grow further the longer one stared at it "K-Keith? Oh god... oh... fuck... the what a fucking dream" Catching Lance's hand before it dropped back to his chest, Keith intertwined their fingers. The cold metal of the cuffs cutting into the tender skin of his wrist, but Lance needed something to ground him after a bad dream "I'm here. You've been asleep for around 2 vargas or so" It was a half a guess and half... intuition. The Blades would have once easily leave behind anyone running late during a mission, and while things had changed, Keith still found himself mentally keeping tabs on time without thinking "No wonder I still feel quiznak... fuck..." "Are you ok?" Grunting, Keith felt Lance rolling over, Lance releasing Keith's hand to do so. Was he ok? Not really. They were locked away in a cell awaiting being used for experiments until they expire or whoever was in charge of everything came for them "Me? Yeah, I'm alright. I was just thinking" "About what?" "How much of a dumb arse you are" Keith's words were filled with affection, having forgotten that everything was probably being recorded right now "I'm not a dumb arse. I had things handled until you crashed my mission" "I was here first" Lance sighed at him deeply "We are so not fighting. Here, swap with me. You should sleep" "Babe, you're the one who's injured" "Trust me, I'm not going back to sleep" "Want to tell me about it? Your dream, I mean?" "Right now the dream's to get you out of here in one piece. God. I do not want Krolia coming after me" Keith huffed in annoyance. Things felt... like two gears not quite aligned "You were coughing. Like you couldn't catch your breath" "Mmm. It's over now. I really wish there was some light in here" "Lance..." He wanted to pull him into his lap. He wanted to hold his lover tight and feel the heat of his warm breathing body against him. He'd missed him so fucking badly, and the moron had intentionally gotten himself injured. How could not worry? "We're being filmed, so excuse me if I don't want to talk about it and give them anymore ideas of what fun they can have. It's over. I'm awake. You need to sleep. That's all there is to it" Oh... "Ok. Ok. You're right. I just... it was a long phoeb and a half without you around" "Phoeb...and half?" Looking down to his lap, Keith felt... he felt confused by Lance's confused tone. He knew time had gone out the window for him, but surely he had to know it'd been a phoeb "5 movements, 7 quintants and a few vargas... Since you left... I thought about you the whole time..." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. How long did you count?" "I... uh. Thought it was about a phoeb. I kind of lost track of time for a while there..." Lance had lost nearly two movements... How did someone lose that much time?! "You lost track of time? How did you... you... where were you? We went looking for you... I went to Erathus looking for you..." "You went there? Oh man... is that how you wound up here?" "No. The chief of police wouldn't take me in. He was more concerned with you. Did he remind you of Bob?" "No. He always reminded me of Lotor... not that we really talked. He didn't exactly like me. Keith, were you serious about me being gone that long?" Keith didn't see Lotor in the police chief at all, other than his desire to kill the man "Yeah... It was... like losing Shiro all over again, but worse because it was you. We couldn't find you. I couldn't find you. No one had any news. I thought... I was sure you were going to be here when I got here..." Keith voice cracked with emotion, he'd been so lonely without Lance. So many things from his past had come flooding back. All the homes and people he'd said goodbye to. All the times he'd been passed on like he didn't have feelings. "I'm sorry" Lance's voice was low, a hand coming to rest on Keith's shoulder "No. I'm the one who's sorry. She had no right. I had no right. All of it makes me feel sick. I couldn't even look at her without thinking of you... I tried to ask myself what you would do, but I can't say I did good job" "She's your mother. She was looking out for you. I'm fucked up. Really fucked up. My head's all over the place... and I'm dirty. I'm so fucking dirty. I don't think I'll ever be clean, Keith... I don't know how you can be so close to me. I'm not a good person..." Something wet dripped on to Keith's hair, realising Lance was crying, he pushed himself up to sit on the side of the bed, the metal bar hard beneath him "Hey. No. No, you're the most important thing to me in this universe. I was so scared without you..." "I'm sorry. I know I handled it wrong. I know... but it hurt so fucking much... I didn't know what to do. Who to turn to. The voices in my head... it... I didn't want to fall back to the start of everything... but... I wasn't... I'm not strong like you are. I had a heat, and it hurt so much... I couldn't manage my medication. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so mad at you for telling her. It was the one secret, Keith. One secret" "I know. Lance, I know. I'm so sorry" "I don't want to keep talking about it. Not until we're out of here... I told you we'd talk then... Can you move so I can get off the bed?" "I'm not getting off the bed. And you're not either... I've missed you so much"

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i-like-cookiez · 6 years

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An Experiment (Pidge X borrower!Lance)

Voltron g/t oneshot!

Wanting to write g/t + the amazing characters of Voltron = this, please enjoy :3

In all honesty, Lance should’ve seen this coming…

He’d been getting sloppy with his borrowing runs over the past week, leaving behind evidence of a presence in the home. He overheard one of the humans living there, a girl, muttering to herself about catching mice. He should’ve realized she had been referring to him.

And yet here he was. Desperately pounding on the strange glowing walls of his trap. He backed into the middle, his breathing becoming less stable. He’d been caught. By a human! Examining the walls closer, only added to Lance’s confusion. It didn’t look like any human object he’d ever seen before from other houses he’d lived in.

“It worked! My trap worked!” He heard from outside the strange little box. He shrunk into himself, realizing who it was. The girl. He heard the approaching footsteps, and felt the looming darkness of her shadow fall over him. Lance considered himself to be pretty brave. His parents even supporting that claim before he’d left his home.

But now? Now, he felt terrified. Powerless to do anything. He felt like the human girl was already grasping him in her tight, unforgiving fist, and yet she hadn’t even reached for him.

“Finally, I’ll have a live test subject for my experiments and inventions! And you’ll stop stealing all of my peanut butter cookies.” Lance’s body tensed, and his legs felt like jelly.

“T-Test subject…?” He whispered to himself. She was going to keep him in a cage, locked away from the world. Testing stuff on him. He fell to his knees, and hunched over, not having the will to look at the human.

“N-No please...please.” Lance quietly begged, tears beginning to trickle down his face. He tried to stop them, but to no avail, as the fear for his life overrided his pride.

“Wait a second...you’re not a mouse…oh my gosh.” Lance heard the girl suddenly whisper. And then, like magic, the walls of his trap receded. Freeing him, but also leaving no barrier between him and the girl.

“Incredible! A t-tiny person?...But how? How are you real?” She inquired, eyes lit up in awe at his presence. Lance hesitantly looked up. And up, and up to meet her gaze. He gulped fearfully as he took in her appearance.

She was wearing a green and white shirt, and had short light brown hair. She also had a pair of quite large glasses on. Scientists wear big glasses to study their subjects don’t they? Lance thought to himself. They locked eyes for a few seconds, and Lance took a couple steps back. She continued to look down at him, still surprised. Then she saw his body shaking.

“Oh...you poor thing.” She cooed, then looked at herself, “a-am I...am I scaring you?” She asked. The borrower was curling in on himself, and didn’t reply.

“Here, let me…” she trailed off, reaching down, and grabbing Lance in a firm, but gentle fist. Lance, however, did not appreciate the sudden handling. He kicked and screamed with all he had, but not even his best efforts did anything to weaken the massive being. He slumped against her fingers, defeated, and let himself be taken to what he knew would be his certain doom.

~~~~~

Pidge’s mind was going crazy. A tiny humanoid creature?!?! She never thought stable living beings were possible at that size due to the square cube law…and yet, she was holding one in her hand, although the little guy didn’t seem too pleased about being picked up.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask this boy. Where did he come from? Are there more of him? What is he? Her scientific brain swirled. What if she showed him to her father? Maybe he’d take him to labs, and their family would get rich because of her discovery! They would get tons of money, and she could use that money to work onbigger and better inventions! Pidge’s ideas came to a halt as she took a glance down at the boy in her loose fist. She immediately noticed the tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, how she could feel his entire body tremble against her fingers. He wasn’t just scared of her.

He was terrified.

Guilt crashed over Pidge like a tidal wave. This boy had emotions, and seemed just as intelligent as a human, she could’ve sworn she had even heard him speak quietly earlier. And she had thought of showing him off as some object. Some inanimate trophy of sorts for her own personal gain. Sure, he would be a scientific breakthrough, but he looked human. And no human deserves to be treated like a science experiment.

Opening and closing the door to her room quickly, Pidge carefully set him down on her desk, near some of her inventions in progress. She watched him look around with a small smile. He was kind of adorable. Then, he bolted. Thinking fast, Pidge slammed her hand down in his path. She cringed as he smacked face first into it, and fell back on his butt.

“Shoot! A-Are you okay, little guy?” She asked worriedly. She reached towards him to check if he got hurt, but he shielded his body with his arms.

“No! L-Leave me alone, human!” He shouted up to her. She pulled her hands away, raising them up defensively.

“Hey, hey, please calm down, little buddy...I mean you no harm. I’m sorry if I’m scaring you. I guess my curiosity got a little too much for both of us...heh.” She admitted, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

“My name is Katie, but my brother, Matt, calls me Pidge.” She introduced. “What’s your name?” She asked softly.

~~~~~

Lance looked up at the human, Katie, or Pidge, whichever she went by, distrustingly. His name? He’d never tell his name to a human!

“Wh-Why do you want to know my name?!” He asked her, “aren’t I just your new ‘test subject’?” He questioned, fear seeping back into his voice. He noticed her face sadden.

“I...I’m sorry for trapping you. I thought, well, a mouse was stealing our food. I thought it’d be a nice way to test my new device that I built myself. My hypothesis never anticipated the Mouse actually being a tiny human.” She explained.

“I’m not a human, I’m a borrower!” Lance retorted, slamming a hand over his mouth. Oh shoot, he just revealed his kind to a human! “Are-Are you going to send me to a lab to be experimented on?” Lance asked. Pidge sighed.

“No, I couldn’t do that to a creature as intelligent as yourself. You don’t deserve the treatment of an animal in a science lab.” She stated. Lance blushed a little. Did she say he was smart? Obviously Lance was overthinking what she’d meant. Pidge saw his face and rolled her eyes with a small smile.

“Oh, and don’t worry. None of these strange looking inventions are going to be used on you. In case you were feeling nervous about that.” She mentioned, moving them to another part of her room to ease his tension. “Can I know your name now?” She asked hopefully. Lance looked wary, he closed his eyes.

“It’s...L-Lance.” He sighed. Could he trust Pidge? Was she using him to gain info on his kind now that she knew about him?

“Nice to formally meet you, Lance.” She said with a smile. “So, uh, how do “borrowers” like you live?” Pidge asked him, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the desk. Lance hated how she sat leaning over him. She held so much power over him and she didn’t even realize, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Well...we live in humans’ house walls, and scavenge small portions of left behind food scraps to survive…” he was reluctant to answer the question, but did so anyway. Pidge nodded, taking in his words.

“Seems like a dangerous life.” Pidge observed, “why don’t you come to us for help? Wouldn’t it be easier than hiding away?” She asked. Lance shuddered.

“Ask a human for help?!” He outbursted, surprising Pidge, “that’s crazy talk! Do you know what would happen to us?!” She raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.

“I’ve heard stories from old friends, and my parents...humans who’ve...killed us, shown us off to friends, kept us as...as pets.” He scowled, “humans are not to be trusted.” He finished. Pidge was speechless from his answer. She watched as he turned and began to walk away from her. At first, she decided to let him leave, but then another idea came to her.

“W-Wait!” She called out, “please, come back Lance.” She pleaded. Lance narrowed his eyes, but the look of desperation on her face made him cave, so he walked back.

“I’d like to conduct an experiment.” Pidge declared. Lance gasped.

“What?! Y-You lied to me!” He exclaimed. But Pidge stopped him from panicking.

“Just hold on! Don’t freak out! Just please hear me out first.” She started, “What if you give me one week to prove you wrong that all humans are cruel and evil?” She offered. Lance was confused.

“Huh?” He asked, not getting it.

“Will you stay with me for one week? Just to see if I can prove to you that I don’t want to hurt you? And that some humans are worth trusting? That’s my experiment. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but you might learn something new.” She added. Lance bounced back and forth on his feet, unsure of what to say.

“I...I don’t know. Wh-What if your lying? What if you kill me? What if you...eat me?!” Lance was starting to panic again. Pidge chuckled.

“Gross, I’d never EAT you!” She cried, grimacing, she leaned her face down closer to Lance.

“Lance...you can trust me, I swear. If you accept, You’ll be 100% safe. I just want to show you a new side of life.” She reassured. Pidge then placed her open palm face up on the table in front of him.

“Do you trust me?” She asked. Lance looked from the hand, to her eyes. She gave a small smile, and her eyes showed genuine kindness from behind her giant specs. Taking a deep breath, Lance stepped onto the offered palm.

“Yes. I trust you, Pidge. I-I’ll do it.” He stated, trying to sound as brave as possible. Pidge lifted her hand off of the table, bringing it close to her chest, and using her other hand as a wall as a way of protection.

“Excellent. I can’t wait to show you all of the amazing things that being an antisocial, inventive human has to offer!” She jokingly said excitedly.

“Hey, Pidge?” Lance suddenly piped up. She looked down at him.

“Yeah, Lance? You okay?” He paused, rubbing his arm nervously.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked.

“Because. From the looks of things, you seem to be here all alone, and with my dad and brother gone in space...I think we both need a friend.Wouldn’t you say?” She replied. Lance sat in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. A friend sounds...it sounds nice.” He admitted. Even a human friend… he thought, a small smile crossing his lips. Maybe Pidge would prove him wrong. After all, she turned out pretty okay.

He sat down in her palm, as she carried him back downstairs, to show him “video games”, what he thinks she called them. Her body heat was really comfortable, and in no time, he found himself curled up against her frame. The warmth enveloped him like a blanket, and it’s relaxing quality soon took him into a nice sleep.

~~~~~

Pidge heard Lance’s breathing slow, so she looked down to check on him, only to see he was fast asleep, curled up against her. She silently cooed at his adorable sleeping body.

“Huh, if tiny people really can exist...maybe I could build something to shrink Matt when he comes back. Then he’d finally stop making height jokes about me.” She said to herself, chuckling. She decided to turn back to her bedroom. Her new friend deserved some rest.

She deposited him onto her pillow, and sat down beside it.

“Sleep well, Lance. I’ll be here for you.” She whispered. She made a promise to Lance that she’d show him that humans could be good. And she intended to fulfill that promise.

My first time writing g/t with not original characters...woah. I mentioned how we need more tol Pidge, so I decided to act upon that, and made this! I hope it was a nice read, and I hope I got their characters right...I mean after 6 seasons of Voltron in 3 days, I should be pretty good.

#voltron #vld #voltron g/t #giant/tiny #gt #borrower #giant #tiny #borrower!lance #giant!pidge #pidge gunderson #voltron lance

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midlstrit · 6 years

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VLD & Destiny AU part 1

Depending on how this does I’ll post the other parts but here’s part 1 of what I wrote

Basics of AU are here

(Can you tell I’m a Destiny nerd- this is why my blog has “AUs” in the title. Also, I wrote this a while ago and edited a bit of it yesterday so it might sound iffy)

Anyways here’s the fic:

Keith coughed harshly, slowly coming around. His HUD barely flickered to life, weakly trying to convey its functions to him. His vision was too blurry to recognize its efforts, as his head was spinning. How long had he been out?

A name suddenly shot out in his mind like a bullet. Ghaul.

He remembered falling from the command ship, a heavy boot calmly pushing him off the side as he was helpless to stop it. His Ghost fell before him, and had disappeared into the chaos below.

His Ghost. Red. He had to find him.

Slowly, Keith put his hands beneath himself. His gloves were met with rough, cracked concrete that once paved a sidewalk. His tattered, red cloak slid against his back uselessly, its former glory having been torn apart in the fall. Lifting his head was painful and slow, but he managed to get a hazy look of his surroundings.

The Last City had fallen. Everything was gone. Keith could see Cabal and Warhounds crawling across the streets hungrily, searching for survivors. No doubt he’d be shot down like a dog if they caught sight of him. Maybe he could find cover in some of the many crashed ships around. He didn’t want to think of the Guardians they had already found in those ruins.

Keith forced his feet beneath him, toes skidding against stone painfully. Every joint in his body screamed in protest, yet he did his best to ignore it. He hadn’t felt real pain in a very, very long time. Normally, Red would heal him instantly or revive him if he fell in battle. It had been such a simple process that he had forgotten to be grateful for it.

Where was his Fireteam? His Clan? Had they evacuated safely? Keith prayed to the Light that they were safe. He prayed that at the very least he’d find his other Hunter- Lance.

Taking a step took everything he had. Keith was slow- slower than he’d ever been. Hunters were supposed to be the fastest. As fast as lightning arcing through the sky. Yet now he was reduced to the speed of a drunken Titan. Clumsy. Slow. A nuisance.

Keith picked through the rubble, taking a trench with pitiful puddles of water at the bottom. He had to crouch to keep himself from falling forward and tumbling into the dirt. He had fallen enough for one lifetime. Yet seven-hundred feet was nothing compared to a few meters of slope.

He followed the pit, hoping the Cabal overhead wouldn’t notice a bright red Guardian limping through the water. Fires were still raging and shops were still sparking around him. Maybe they would keep the attention away.

In the blackened sky, a spotlight broke through. Keith cursed mentally and limped faster, seeing the overhang of a crashed airship that could shield him from view.

The ship grew closer, humming a death threat in its engines. Keith threw himself forward at the last moment, watching the light pass over him as he cowered in the shadows. His body burned in protest to such a swift action, but he hadn’t had much choice. If he had been an inch back then they would’ve seen the blur of his cloak.

He heaved breaths, sweat trailing down his neck underneath his armor. He wished he could rip off his helmet and take a clean intake of air; but with the amount of smoke polluting the sky, he decided against it. Sweaty and bloody he went.

There was a sewer tunnel up ahead, long since left in ruins by the attack. If he could make it there, maybe he could rest. Maybe he could gather his strength to keep looking for Red.

Rubble barred his way, giving him a clear path through the mud. Keith was blinded by more lights. The tunnel entrance was maybe a dozen meters ahead, he thought.. He could make it that far.

“Guardian…!”

His heart skipped a beat, then soared in relief. He saw a light ahead. A floating light that produced an all-too familiar voice.

Something caught on his feet. Keith fell to the ground, barely catching himself before face-planting onto the stone. His arms burned and rolled his body with aches. He couldn’t find the strength to stand up again, and could only force himself to breathe.

“This is awful…” the voice continued. “Awful! This can’t be happening…”

He could sense her light growing closer. Keith wanted to look up at her with a smile- with a greeting. He wanted to hold out his hand and see her appear with a pleasant jitter.

“Keith!” Red breathed, hovering weakly towards him. His voice… it was so frail. The opposite of his usual, commanding tone. He sounded weak enough to be blown away by a soft breeze.

The warmth of his light washed over him, but it was a million times weaker than he remembered. “You’re alive…!” he heaved, sounding barely able to speak. “I thought I’d lost you.”

A slightly stronger warmth washed over him. The wounds and weariness keeping Keith from standing faded like snow on a summer’s day. He could easily push himself upwards and stand.

“I can heal you,” Red said. “But I can’t resurrect you. Not since…”

Keith looked through his cracked helmet, holding up his hand instinctively before he even fully saw him. His once beautiful, crimson shell was faded. The small hunter and lion symbol that had been carefully painted on him were gone. Keith remembered spending an hour on that particular design- precariously working on drawing the tiny cat head. Yet now it was mostly gone and left no trace of his effort.

“It’s okay, Red,” Keith whispered, starting to head forward into the sewer.

Red still didn’t seem happy. He was weak and shivering in his palm. His one blue eye was staring at him sadly. “But, Keith…. The Light is gone. They’ve taken the City, the Traveler, everything…. The Red Legion is killing powerless Guardians.”

The thought of his fireteam helplessly trying to defend themselves made Keith’s gut churn. Maybe Pidge could escape- she was small and fast enough. And maybe the others had already evacuated with the civilians. They were all safe. They had to be safe.

“We have to get out of here,” Red said with urgency in his words. “Please.”

Keith knew that Red was always one to encourage a battle. He was ferocious, and never wanted to let an enemy get away with something. He had always urged him to chase the Fallen that tried to escape, and he always obeyed. Yet now he was pleading with him to get somewhere safe. To run away from those who might still need help.

Keith found himself listening to him.

He walked over to a ledge, letting Red slip into his phase. He lowered his hand after sensing his warm presence in his mind. The City may have been gone, but at least he had him. They wouldn’t take him away, too.

He grabbed the ledge and hauled himself upwards. He was shocked at how difficult it was. His arms were shaking with the mere effort. Once he could throw himself up a cliff with ease. Now he felt like a child trying to lift a car.

Keith swung his legs up and rolled to his feet. Instead of a swift, precise action, he felt like a hippo tackling a pile of sand. It was frustrating to be reduced to such a state.

There was a thin pathway he could take. He guessed it lead outside of the Wall. There weren’t many places it could go to, after all.

Ruined buildings closed in overhead, and fire licked eagerly at a flag on the wall. Keith had been outside of the Wall hundreds, if not thousands of times. But now he felt like a civilian- fearful of what horrors were out there. He wondered what he had been protecting them from all this time. Not the Hive, not the Fallen, not the Cabal, not even the Vex. What was out there for a simple, powerless human being?

Keith didn’t have to discovered that alone. Upon rounding the corner, he saw something. More importantly, someone.

He’d recognize that wild blue helmet from anywhere.

“Lance!” Keith exclaimed, rushing forward and hiding a wince. His fellow Hunter was leaning against a grate, chin on his chest and nearly completely limp. His armor was similarly cracked and battered.

Lance looked up, hood pushed back and a noticeable chunk of his visor missing. Keith could see one of his eyes through the gap, and it showed a weak grin was just underneath.

“...Hey, mullet….” Lance croaked. Keith kneeled and reached towards him unsurely. “Where’ve… you been?”

“Lance, what happened? Where is everyone else? Do you have Blue?” Keith stumbled over his own words frantically.

“One question… at a time,” Lance grimaced and looked back at him. A harsh cough racked his body and filled Keith with dread. Why wasn’t he healed? Did he have his Ghost?

“Lance, where is everyone else?” Keith asked in a more gentle tone. “Are you alright?”

His friend took a deep breath to steel himself. “Hunk and… Allura got away, I think. They were escorting a… civilian ship. Last I heard from… Shiro and Pidge is that they were… heading over to the East Sector.”

Keith’s mind raced. There was a chance they were all alive, then. Hunk and Allura were a capable duo, and were hopefully far, far away from this mess. Shiro was also very able, but without his Light… Keith wondered what was left of Guardians now. What were they without their powers? What things had he taken for granted all this time?

“Can you walk?” Keith asked, putting more important matters at hand. He had to get them both as far away as possible from the Red Legion.

Lance looked at his leg, which was sticking out with a drying red stain. Keith was surprised he hadn’t noticed it, and figured he had been so filled with relief that he hadn’t bothered to check. It was a burn wound that had (thankfully) been closed, but not completely patched up.

“My leg’s sorta messed up,” Lance chuckled dryly. “I don’t think I can walk much longer on it.”

Keith felt another knot of dread worm its way into his gut. “Wh-where’s your Ghost? Didn’t she heal you?”

“Blue’s resting,” Lance said, easing a hundred pounds off of Keith's shoulders. “Don’t worry. I… I didn’t lose her.”

“Thank the Light,” Keith breathed to himself. If Lance had lost his Ghost, then he wouldn’t be able to heal himself. He would be practically useless in battle, and his wounds would take too long to mend. Before this mess started, if he didn’t have his Ghost, there would be no way of healing or reviving him. But now death was permanent either way. The mere concept was terrifying. Keith couldn’t bear to lose any of his fireteam members.

Keith pulled Lance’s arm around his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. It was an effort for both to stand somewhat properly. He grunted with effort and forced his burning legs to straighten. He could endure this pain for his friend’s sake, he thought.

“Let’s get out of here,” Keith said to him softly, “and find the others.”

He couldn’t see it, but he knew Lance smiled. “I’m glad I don’t have to go it alone, partner.”

#voltron!destiny au #vld #destiny 2 #im a nerd im sorry

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kingspoetrysoc · 4 years

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Interview with Pete Clarke

What makes someone a writer? How do our personal life experiences affect our approach to writing? With these questions in mind, The King’s Poet’s Karen Ng interviewed Pete Clarke, a writer from Lancashire.

Can you tell us a little bit about your life? As a young 17 year old girl, my mother became pregnant with a 24 year old man who deserted her when he found out. My mother’s family were Irish Catholics. In 1945, having a child out of wedlock was devastating for her. Her father was outraged but died before I was born. Fortunately, her mother supported her. She found a way out of her predicament by marrying a man returning from the war, who she didn't love. He had breathing problems caused by being gassed in the war. She had another four children by him to whom he showed love and affection. But not to me.

After the war my mother and so called stepfather started working in the Lancashire cotton mills, but when his health problems worsened with the cotton dust, he gave up working. My mother worked long hours in the mill and he looked after the children. It was hard for me because I didn't want to be in his company. My mother tried hard to keep the ship afloat, but they got in a lot of debt. I remember her crying when the bailiffs came and took things out of our house – including the cooker, leaving her to cook on the coal fire.

When did you first begin to venture into the world of writing and music? My grandmother Janey O’Donnell told me that our predecessors were Irish storytellers and musical entertainers. Several members of the family who lived across the road were members of the Todmorden Brass Band and I wanted to join. Mr. Duffield – a member of the Todmorden Brass Band – took me to meet the bandmaster who, to my delight, gave me a cornet and offered to teach me to play. When I returned home my stepfather gave it back to Mr. Duffield, and told him I wasn't allowed to have it. I was 10 years old. I remember going back to drawing with my pencil and paper. Then, at the age of 13 or 14, my best friend Ray Hamlin got a guitar for Christmas. I asked my parents if I could have one too, but was told ‘no’. So I made a cardboard template of a guitar, drawing the first four frets and strings on it. Ray gave me a copy of the basic chord chart and I leaned the chords on my cardboard.

I left school at the age of 15. The art teacher Mr. Eastwood personally took me to see the head of design at a textile print works, who offered me a job. I would be making tea and cleaning up the office whilst learning to become a designer. The pay was only £2.50 per week. But my stepfather told me he had got me a job in the cotton mill for £5 per week, and that I had to take it, as they needed the money. I learned quickly, and became a mule spinner – telling my so-called stepfather that his days of giving me a dog’s life were over. I was independent and I was going to do what I wanted to do.

At 17 I had my own guitar and met a 19 year old mill worker called Bob Higgins who said he played the bass. He asked if I would like to team up with him. Bob Higgins was a massive talent. He had perfect pitch: he didn't know the names of the notes but was an incredible bass player. Not only that, he was also a great singer who could do very convincing impressions of famous artists and accents, as well as sounds of nature and car engines. Along with Cannon and Ball – who were welders – we started entertaining in the northern clubs, quickly becoming a successful act. We developed a comedy and close-harmony vocal act similar to the sound of the Everly Brothers. I used to yodel and Bob yodelled in harmony. Over the following four years, we perfected a great musical comedy act. We entertained in the big clubs during the weekends whilst working in the mill during the weekdays. We knew we had something good and that we would one day get a lucky break. Cannon & Ball were on TV, and soon it would be our turn.

Then my world came crashing down. Bob’s wife said she would leave him if he didn't give up the entertaining career and the nightlife. Bob gave it all up for her and became a window cleaner. I continued to work in the mill. I had a gift for working out how machines worked, and I became a mule overlooker in charge of the maintenance of the mule spinning machines.

Can you tell us a bit about your experiences performing as a stand-up comic? Stand-up comedy is not easy. There are lots of difficult crowds who don't give you a chance. But when you get four hundred people laughing and cheering at the words of one man – you – it's like a drug you need over and over again. On my own, I had to go back to entertaining in the small clubs, developing my individual stand up act and using my ability to tell a gag and my talent for good comic timing. The cotton mills were all shutting down, and thousands were out of work – including myself. So I decided to try to make a living as a comic. Although I had a lot of lean times, I just about managed it. I had three daughters and I worked in every rough dump you could think of in order to provide for them. I played with several Lanc's and York's [Lancashire and York] village brass bands and came up with an idea for a TV sitcom. I pitched the idea to Bobby Ball, who teamed up with me to write the script: a war of the roses between two brass bands at the Tudor Rose Pub. The border between Lancashire and York runs through the centre of the pub, and separates the two rival bands. Then came the second big disappointment: Bobby informed me that his agent had secured a lot of television work for him and that he would have to put my idea on the back-burner. I tried to get it produced by myself, but no one was interested. The script has been on the shelf since – for ten years – but I'm giving it another try this year.

How do you think comedy and music can interact with poetry? I think good music with a good lyric is the full package. And a comedy song is better still, topping it with laughter.

Do you think your life experiences have influenced your art? What kind of messages do you want to share through your work? Of course. My life experiences, my feelings about issues in my life, and the world I live in, all influence my writings. I have strong feelings about the fact that people will spend millions on a twinkling diamond trinket or a lump of yellow metal whilst people are starving to death. Bestowing great wealth on someone who can sing a song or kick a ball into a net whilst the money could drill a well to provide clean water for people...Religious institutions and royalty that own wealth beyond belief and give the impression they are helping by giving a little to charity or using the collection box to impress...The sad thing is I am powerless to change any of this using my words.

Is there a consistent writing habit you try to stick by? Do you think it’s necessary for writers to be consistently writing? I don't have a consistent writing habit. I don't know if it’s necessary for writers to be consistently writing – I started writing the odd song many years ago, and sometimes the lyrics didn’t work, but I kept them as a bunch of words you could call a poem. Once I start on something I don't stop until it's finished. I twist and turn the words, changing them so they do work. I have never taken it seriously; a situation may come into my mind that I would like to put into words. I try to put my thoughts down on paper using a few words and just for fun, to see if I can make them rhyme. I called it a poem. Just for fun again I put some of them on YouTube.

Can you tell us about Napnars, and why you don’t consider yourself a poet? A lady made a comment that I will never be a poet; I replied that I'm not a poet. I came up with the word Napnars. I thought that if my writings are not regarded as poems, this is what I could call them instead. If I am writing a Napnar, or the lyrics to a song – I am trying to tell the full story in a few words, and at the same time, trying to paint a picture in the mind of the listener or reader.

Lastly, what advice would you like to offer poets who are just starting out? It must give you the feel-good factor and a sense of achievement. You must be happy receiving the responses of others and the belief that you can do it. You are in possession of a lethal weapon: the pen. Take care how you use it. Your words are a point of view that can cause stress and anxiety, or peace and tranquility.

Several of Pete’s poems have been published under The King’s Poet: please enjoy them here. To read and listen to more of Pete’s Napnars, please visit his YouTube channel.

#Pete Clarke #interviews #interviewer: Karen Ng #king's poetry society

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pieridesofbillions · 7 years

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More Rip, Less Legend - Aruba-con and why we can’t all get along.

Rip, oh, Rip - just when I think you’ve learned your lesson about working with others, you get more douche-like and do things like form a Time Bureau and cut out the Legends completely. The Legends who have saved the world from evil dictators, your former bosses and people who use ancient Christian artifacts to change the entire makeup of the reality as we know it, with your consent at breaking the one rule about time. Ironically, you don’t remember your time as a fondant chef, because it was where you were the most useful, or at least, you don’t remember that actual two seconds, you were a proper Legend because you learned how to work with your damn team and realized you were not the greatest Time Agent on the face of the planet.

But of course, it’s a new season and we need a new “Rip’s being the stupidest stupid head ever with his dumb secrets,” plot because God knows, you haven’t learned that sharing is caring and the Legends will have to save your ass eventually anyway. Even if he has a plan in play, it isn’t working because he’s keeping it secret.

The problem with Rip Hunter is twofold – number 1 - He does not know how to work with people or be a part of a team. 2- He needs power or he is an unhappy, desperate, sad puppy. I choose to look at problem two first, because we have the Time Bureau – he’s working with a team of people there, right?

To give you a little bit of my process here, the first step in examining a character for me is stripping them down to their core. I get inside their head and take away all the layers that they have built up over the years (that I know about anyway) and find what they are inside of all of that. For instance – Sara Lance - despite what she’s suffered, despite all the blood of people that she’s killed, despite all the rage at the people who have killed her, despite the responsibility of being captain of the Waverider, at her core- she is the embodiment of joy. She delights in a good fight, in a good joke, a good game of cards, a nice beer, a romp in the sheets. Even in the sadness of the memories of her sister, she tries to find the joy in everything no matter what situation she’s in.

Rip, on the other hand, was almost impossible to figure out until I compared his behavior to Ray in Season 1. Ray assumed he knew what was best in any given situation, always needed to be listened to and validated, didn’t understand any point of view or lifestyle but his own as the “right” one and deemed himself right in any given situation and his wrongness had to be slowly explained to him or he didn’t understand. In fact, behaviorally, the only difference between the two is that Rip was more jaded, more experienced, more ruthless, and more morally neutral. While at his core, Ray wasn’t privilege (at his core, he is a tinkerer- someone who cannot stop messing with things no matter how much they need to be left alone), he was the perfect example of privilege. So why was it so hard for me to identify the same things in Rip? Ray’s privilege (while also being white and male) came almost completely from money (knowledge as well, but in season one it was also proven Ray was brain smart and street dumb, while Leonard was both brain and street smart, but still not inherently privileged, hence me taking it off the table.)

The problem was my brain was temporally locked, for lack of a better word. Rip’s core is power, but it’s extremely hard to recognize because that kind of power almost always exclusively comes from money, but a time traveler has no need of money, because it is so very temporary. Grab a penny from the 1800’s, jump to the twenty-first century and you’ve just made yourself a rich man. We hardly ever see that kind of completely and utter disregard and/or use of others in people who are essential broke, but because he travels through time, he has more power than we will ever know. That’s why some of Rip’s best, kindest moments come from when he’s feeling powerless, because he can finally see past himself and what he thinks and can finally empathize with others and use all of the other layers that he’s learned and knows to truly help.

But making a powerful person feel powerless eventually has its repercussions. After erasing his own memory, being mind-jacked by the Legion of Doom, protected by Gideon, returned to his own ship where he found Sara had finally made the Legends work (as much as the Legends will ever be functional), then trapped for God knows how long making fondant cakes in a tiny baby Waverider and being partially erased by time, he’s more powerless than he’s been since losing his wife and child due to the organization he had dedicated his life to. So Rip did what Rip always does when he’s pressed against a wall – he takes control of everything in front of him despite the fact that it is inherently uncontrollable – in this case, Time. When his wife and child died, he tried controlling the uncontrollable with the Legends in the first place, despite being time manipulated, despite being defeated time and time again when he tried to save them by himself, he decided to draft the moteliest crew of people who clearly have issues with authority. Then, he lied to them, had no problem using their guilt and camaraderie with Carter to keep them around, but was surprised when they didn’t bow to his every whim and demand and bonded with each other over hating him. And they still became a team, somehow, despite the odds.

So, then he had to do the stupid thing of stranding his team in various points of time to hide a secret, powerful artifact , kept its origins secret again and instead of asking for help, he left the Legends to backtrack his steps, which inevitably left them three steps behind, and eventually, in a situation where they had to break the most cardinal rule of time and obviously, if the Legends had to break the most cardinal rule of time travel to save the world, no matter what happened as consequences, something must be done. By him, obviously, because none of that was his fault in the first place (the fondant loving chef of the tiny Waverider was a time remnant that disappeared completely erasing his memory of contributing to this plan and before that), of course, he was busy stranding his team and then he had to kill George Washington.

Which is how we wound up back at problem number one – Rip doesn’t know how to work with people or be a part of a team. I present as evidence exhibit A – the Time Bureau. Again, I was unbelievably confused at how Rip Hunter – who has not only traveled with the Legends, but has been saved by them innumerable times created an agency that uses them as a guide of what not to do when confronted by time aberrations. I can understand why he wanted to create the antithesis of the Time Masters and from what we’ve seen so far that is very much what he did– living inside of time, centered in 2017 (and supposedly beyond), adhering to a more modern, office like look, being connected personally and training to work together, using mobile devices instead of ships when captains had been travelling as their own law, using centralized agency with checks and balance and different levels of power, one that doesn’t disguise itself according to the time period, but with technology. All of this is inherently opposite the entire look and feel of the Time Masters, which is entirely appropriate and at first glance, very impressive.

What I find incredibly appalling, however, is how he used the Legends as not only example of what not to do, but how everything they did was wrong, which yes, breaking time bad, but here’s the problem one in action. All the people he recruited believed him. Why would someone supposedly effective as Rip work with the Legends so long if they were such awful, bumbling idiots? Why did he entrust his ship to them and hide in the past? Because instead of recruiting those effective in their own fields (but unknown) as he did with the Legends, he chose people that could be molded to be similar to him. Structured, rule following, type A personalities, people who follow plans and protocol to the letter and are endlessly trained in every possible scenario that could possibly happen, instead of the kind of people who would break down his logic or empathize with the conditions the Legends were under. He’s equipped them with devices that used surprise and disorientation as their primary method to fix their aberrations and voila, problem solved - incredibly effective Time Bureau. But despite how quickly they’ve cleaned up the huge mess of Time that the Legends made, they’ve only existed approximately five years, less if you count making protocol, staffing and training. Essentially, everyone is basically a baby agent just getting their feet wet.

All that training was useless after one call about Julius Caesar from a Legend. Based on the wonderful stories Rip has been instilling in his trainees, they barely believe in a possible aberration and outright dismiss the evidence because they didn’t actually look at their surroundings and notice a huge toga party or bother talking to Mick. Then when the Legends return Caesar, albeit roughly, when they go to “fix” the Legends’ horrible mistake, they are baited into a trap that is used as a basic shoplifting lure at box stores.

Instead of recruiting people of many different styles and methods to work with, Rip has created a Time Bureau of tiny little Rips. He could have built a new more functional version of the Legends, finding people who had their skills without as many of their hang-ups or he could have used the Legends as teachers after he fixed time. He didn’t even let Gideon have a say in how the new teams were formed which says a lot about how much control he wanted. Gideon is a mostly impartial party who has just as much if not more knowledge about time travel and yet, he shut down her mind and used her body as a training simulator. (Let’s not forget, Gideon was the only thing that kept Rip sane inside his own mind at one point.) No, Rip Hunter has just trained a lot of people to follow his lead and act just as he would in the field. He’s made mini drones. That may be effective against your average aberration, but they don’t know how to improvise. He’s built them up with a great success rate but he hasn’t shown them the truth of time travel – things go wrong. Things always go wrong. The field isn’t like a simulation and when you’re in the middle of a situation, protocol doesn’t always work. Mistakes get made and you have to make tough decisions very fast. The only mini-drone exceptions we’ve seen to this are extremely anti-Legends and the individual thought they have had is “Don’t use Legends.” (Wonder where they got that idea from?)

The Legends aren’t perfect, but they are effective because they’ve learned that each of them brings something different to the team and all of those things should be valued. While Rip values the Legends as an asset, he hasn’t learned how to value them as people– he’s taken everything they’ve done for him, Time and each other and made a mockery of it because one, it gives him power and two - it restores his faith in himself and in his righteousness. In his mind, the problem for Rip was never him, it was them. He still hasn’t learned that they have things teach him. He didn’t try to find his place on the team where he belonged amongst all these different personalities with all of their weaknesses and all of their strengths. While he was extremely grateful for what they did for him, he still hasn’t come to understand how they did it. To this day, they still mystify him because he hasn’t truly seen them as equals, and sometimes, as betters. They look at failure and learn, while he looks at failure and becomes defeated. He gives commands instead of asking questions. He orders instead of requests. He talks at people instead of listening to people and he blames others instead of taking responsibility. He had a chance to use the opportunity he had once given them to change his destiny when Sara invited him to stay on the team. But he made a decision when he took that time ship and left his former team behind, he chose to be a great Time Agent instead of becoming an incredible Legend.

#Legends of Tomorrow #season three spoiler #I thought a thing #Meta

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