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#even after the war showers with Lance have always been his favorite
damnlance · 2 years
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Klance angsty prompt 6 please 👀
Klangst Prompt #6
6. “You’ve never hurt me. Ever”
Summary: Lately, Lance has been stressed beyond the point of breaking… The end of the war was 3 years ago and yet, it’s not enough time to pass for Lance to feel better. Not even close. Everyone has always called him a hero. And since the day they landed back on earth, everyone has gone so far to ask for photos and autographs and all that. These days Lance is sick of it.
Or; the pressures of being the ‘savior of earth’ has been building up inside of Lance, causing him to erupt on any and everyone.
Good thing he has his amazing boyfriend.
-there’s a slow start, but I PROMISE it’s klance so just keep reading!
-also galra (kitten) Keith ?? I love him
-
It all started with a fangirl just a few weeks ago.
Lance decided to walk to his favorite coffee shop one chilly afternoon. He woke up really late and was immediately craving something sweet yet bitter. And since he lives with most of his family, running out of coffee five days after buying a brand new pack of it is very common, especially when no one wants to buy more for whatever reason.
So there Lance was, walking down the street. Hands tucked into his blue lion hoodie (thanks to all the merch the fans of voltron have made over the years), making his way to the closest coffee shop near his home. And then he hears the high pitched squeal of a girl at least 10 feet away from him. Then 9 feet.. then 6.. then 4 because she’s literally running at him with the speed of a hundred cheetahs chasing a gazelle until she’s right there, face to face with Lance.
“Oh my god!!” She yelled, jumping up and down like some 5 year old girl getting a puppy. She was about 5’7, short brown hair and huge blue eyes that almost resembled Lance’s. She wore this giant faux fur coat and beanie to match, and her phone was IN LANCE’S FACE.
She was all over him and it was attracting others to stare their way. Lance tried to calm her down by smiling and using a little of his charm but it was just making the girl fangirl even more. So he took a picture with her to be on his way before the coffee shop got too busy. But she wouldn’t back off. Apparently she wasn’t satisfied with the picture, something about how her eyes were closed? Or how blurry it came out? Lance couldn't remember, he just wanted his coffee.
The girl kept hounding him and following him, demanding that he retake the picture with her. Lance let her down easy, saying how he needed to be someplace important and that he was running late. The girl kept pushing him. Following his every move, right on his heels. Begging, pleading with him to take more pictures because she ‘needed them,’ whatever that meant. Lance tried his hardest to be nice and polite because as a former paladin of voltron and as one of seven someone’s who have saved the entire universe, his image is everything. Without him or his former paladins, there would probably be no earth. So he stopped in his tracks and took a better picture with the girl.
He felt good to see her happy because of something that he had done. Plus he looked really good in that picture, who knew the earth’s natural lighting at 1pm could make his skin look so smooth? Once he gave his approval of the better pic, he was on his way again, hoping that the line to the coffee shop wasn’t even longer now. As he started to fast walk down the busy sidewalk, something yanked him back by the neck and he came crashing down. Literally. He fell right back on his ass and when he looked up, this same crazy girl was looming over him like a mad woman. With his blue hand-knit wool scarf dangling from her grabby hands. The anger that had been simmering in Lance’s gut was at a full blown boil and he was just about ready to explode. So.. he kinda did..
Long and embarrassing story short, Lance yelled at her. He snatched his blue scarf out of her hands so fast, it scared her, and as he rubbed his most likely bruised tailbone, he got in her face and began blaming her for the world's most horrible fan interaction. He was so angry, that he balled his fists, stomped his foot and had veins protruding out of his neck and forehead. He called her names and most likely spit in her face, but he didn’t care. And when he was done, he took a step back and examined the girl in front of him. She was folded in on herself, holding her arms close to her body as her bottom lip quivered and fat, giant tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked so.. mortified. And actually.. scared of him. Like if Lance were to say anything or move a muscle, she’d flinch.
Seconds later, Lance’s face softened into something regretful and he went out to reach for her, to apologize. But, like he knew she would, she flinched. And then hurried away like he was a mad man. All the while crying and clutching her phone to her chest. Lance felt absolutely demolished inside. He tried to go after her but his feet were glued to the cement of the sidewalk. He didn’t even want his coffee anymore.
Thankfully, there were no viral videos or photos or posts about the incident. Lance ended up tracking the girl down a few days later and showered her with all the love he could muster, even taking as many pics as she wanted and liking them on Instagram when she tagged him. But.. something inside him still felt so horrible about the incident. For a moment, Lance had realized that he genuinely hurt that girl for no real reason. He just wanted some coffee but is coffee more important than the people who are thankful and want to show their gratitude for him for everything he did with voltron? If the roles were reversed and he stayed on earth, he would be bending over backwards to let all the paladins know just how thankful he was to live another day on their planet. That girl probably had family, friends, maybe a spouse and kids, and in the midst of that horrible battle 3 years ago, she most likely thought that one of those days would be her last with them.
It broke Lance’s heart thinking about it. He really hurt her. Sure, he made it right and she forgave him, but in that single moment, he actually hurt someone enough to make them cry, to make them run away from him. It was a terrible feeling. It wasn’t Lance. He never wanted that to happen again.
And at the same time.. he.. kinda never wanted to be the savior of earth. Not really.. he just wanted to feel like he had a place in the universe, and to know that he played an important role. That he mattered.
Guess he really matters now..
He sends a long text to Keith with shaky hands.
Message delivered..
The second he walked through the door, his phone rang. It was a three-way call with Hunk and Pidge. Lance pressed the green button to answer and placed the phone to his ear. Immediately, Hunk starts going on and on about how much he misses Lance and when the next time they’ll see each other will be. Lance smiled at his best friend’s inability to ever take a breath between sentences and replied with a warm ‘I miss you too, buddy.’ They got to catching up as Lance ordered his garlic knots and sat down at a private booth near the back of the place. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, especially when he got the call from his best friends.
Hunk tells him all the great things that’s been happening at the Garrison and even on the Atlas. He tells him how his restaurant is doing and how his family is doing and how Shay is doing. Pidge catches him up on things with her family, some new inventions she’s been working on, and how being the youngest teacher at the Garrison is going. Lance listens and gives his two cents on everything his friends tell him and honestly, he couldn’t be more happy for them. The way they were able to just get their lives together 3 years after the war is.. incredible. It made him think about everything he’s done since the war ended. Which wasn’t much.. he took over his family’s farm and brought it back to life, he helps out Colleen, Pidge’s mom, with medicine and finding cures to strange space illnesses with plants she has him grow on his farm, and his family’s market wouldn’t be as popular or swarming with business if he didn’t work there. Sad but true. And that’s really it. He hasn’t done much else. Nothing life changing or breathtaking like his friends.
But Hunk and Pidge don’t need to know that. So he simply replies with: “Oh, ya know.. same old, same old,” and hopes it works enough to keep the conversation flowing and follow up questions at bay. It does.
30 minutes into their conversation and Lance is starting to feel a little.. agitated. With the garlic knots consumed and digesting in his stomach, he sits in the booth, alone, listening to his friends go on and on and on about their perfect jobs and their perfect little lives. He gets lost a few times and at one point has literally no idea what they’re talking about. When he tries to ask what or who or even get the slightest details, Pidge lets out a sigh that Lance can’t help but feel like is out of annoyance. Lance sighs back and continues to stay silent because obviously he’s not getting anywhere. Why even bother putting him on a call that Hunk and Pidge could have just had on their own??
Balling his fist, Lance let out a loud, overdramatic sigh. He didn’t care if his friends heard it or how they took it. He was upset. The conversation between his two friends comes to a halt and then awkward silence. Pidge is the first to speak up with a:
“Something you wanna add, Lance?” The annoyance in her voice is very much there and Lance doesn’t miss it. He scoffs loudly and grits his teeth.
“No.” He says, voice deepening in anger.
“Oh really?” Pidge asks, poking the sleeping bear that lies dormant in lance. “Cause it sure sounds like it to me. Why don’t you stop being such a fucking child and tell us what’s bothering you this time??”
Lance damn near growls.
The line has gone quiet now. Hunk’s unsteady breathing is audible but other than that, silence. Lance digs his nails into the skin of his palms and tries to keep the angry tears in his eyes from falling down his cheeks. With a deep shaky breath, he smiles through the pain.
“You know what, Katie,” Lance spits and it makes Hunk gasp. “Fuck YOU and this stupid, shitty attitude you have all the time!”
“Oh, god..” Hunk winces.
“I don’t know what the actual fuck crawled up your ass,” Lance continues, “but I’m sick of it! I've been sick of it for years! I’m sick of keeping my mouth shut and quite frankly, I’m sick of YOU!”
Lance is standing up out of his seat now. His chest heaves up and down as the angry tears have fallen past his face and down his neck. His voice is two octaves deep from anger and the skin of his palm is bloody from how hard he’s digging his nails into it. The place has gone quiet now and Lance can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him. So much for not drawing any attention to himself.
The line is quiet. Then, the sound of a huff of breath. A small laugh.. And then:
“Wow. Nice one, McClain..” Pidge’s voice is small, but so full of something. “Go screw yourself, you asshole.”
The call ends. Whether Pidge or Hunk ended it, is unclear.
Minutes pass, and Lance is still standing in the same place with the phone to his ear. Tears are running down his face, and his Altean marks are buzzing so loud in his ears. His heart is pounding in his ribcage and ice cold sorrow runs through his veins..
He sends a long text to Keith with shaky hands.
Message delivered...
Now, exactly 3 months since that little incident, Lance sits alone in his home. In his childhood bedroom he can’t seem to rearrange because he’s still holding out hope that one day he’ll turn back time and be his child self and get a redo on his life. But hey, it’s better this way. After the whole dilemma with Pidge, Hunk tried to call Lance to help but ended up getting his feelings hurt. Yep. By Lance. Because Lance is a big jerk and can’t stop hurting everyone around him.
So he hasn’t talked to Pidge or Hunk since then. Mostly out of guilt and shame because those two are supposed to be his bestest friends and he hurt them. Nothing he could say or do could make up for his selfish mind and stupid mouth. Lance had this whole plan to go to Shiro about it, to get his advice so Lance could make it all better.
But Pidge being Pidge.. texted the whole thing in their group chat and.. well.. everyone saw it. Shiro, Hunk, Matt, even Keith possibly! It got so bad that Lance’s phone kept going off with alerts from everyone asking what happened and what he said. Curtis tried calling him and left a few messages. Shiro left him a long voicemail. And of course the word traveled so fast that it reached New Altea and Coran got involved. Which caused Romelle to be involved, too. She gossiped to Acxa, who told her girlfriend, who happens to be Lance’s sister, Veronica. Veronica blabbed to Rachel, who blabbed to Marco, who blabbed to Luis.. who blabbed to Lance’s dad.. WHO BLABBED TO LANCE’S MOM. And boy did she have some interesting words for him in the SEVEN, LONG voicemails asking exactly ‘what happened’and ‘why The Holt siblings were so angry with him.’
Everything escalated so fast. Lance can’t even remember what he said. Or why he said it. Since the war ended, it’s been so hard on him. Sure, it’s been hard on everyone, but for Lance it’s been different. Everyone looks up to him for some reason and expects him to do so good and be the hero they all think he is, when in reality? He was just a leg…
Exactly what did he gain from being a paladin of voltron anyway?? Get banged up and bruised almost everyday he was out there? Have people on his case, constantly reminding him how unimportant he was to the team? Pointing out all of his flaws and mistakes and focusing on those when there’s a million other good things he’s done that towers over all the bad shit?? Sure, he returned home to his family who he literally missed and cried for every single day, but he lost the love of his life in the process.
To put it all out there, Lance didn’t really gain anything. He got to travel through space, which was his dream since he was a little kid, and then space chewed him up and spit him out as some fake hero with PTSD and other trauma that will haunt him for the rest of his pathetic life.
So.. these past 3 months.
Lance has been sitting up in his childhood room.
Wishing he could use the power of Altea or something to turn back time.
And be his younger self.
His innocent self.
His happier self.
Back when he wasn’t so fucked up and had dreams and goals.
Back when everyone was proud of him.
Back to when he didn’t know who Allura was or that she even existed. Back to when Voltron didn’t exist either and everything was fucking fine.
Staring up at his ceiling, Lance counts the glow in the dark stars that he’s had up there since he was six years old. Somehow they’re still glowing and Lance is thankful for that because at 3 in the morning when the world is fast asleep and everything is pitch black, he could use the light.
It comforts him. Reminds him of a simpler, more happier time in his life.
Something sharp digs through Lance’s chest as he stares at those fake neon stars, and it hurts really bad. His breathing begins to quicken, matching the beat of his heart, and a lump finds its way up his throat. Tears pool in the rim of his eyes and spill down the corners, streaming down the sides of his face.
And they don’t stop. The stars get blurrier as Lance’s breathing gets heavier. His body begins to tremble with every hiccup of a sob that pours out of him and he’s crying so hard that his brain throbs in his head.
He curls in on himself in his bed and wraps his arms around his torso, crying uncontrollably into his space themed pillow. His Altean marks begin to buzz and glow and he can’t bring himself to care because all he wants to do is disappear.
Disappear from this game called life.
He types a text to Keith with teary eyes and a quivering bottom lip.
Message.. deleted…
As 3 in the morning turns to 4, a pod lands in the grass just a couple yards away from Lance’s farm. Boot covered feet step out of said pod and touch the wet grass waiting for them. It’s still dark out and the only light visible are the fireflies that buzz around a pair of cowboy booted feet. Those booted feet begin to walk, carrying a tall, broad, raven haired stranger up a hill to Lance’s home. The frogs and crickets seem to grow louder as the stranger in black cowboy boots makes their way to the front porch and pulls back the creaky screen door to a cold, locked doorknob. A set of keys are pulled out and a specific blue key is pushed inside the lock, turning and unlocking the door. The stranger walks in and is instantly met.. with..
Crying??
“H-Hello??” The stranger calls out. “Lance?”
The crying stops.
It’s dead quiet..
The door shuts on its own and the echo around the house is eery.
Light footsteps descend the stairs and before they know it, the stranger is being tackled to the ground in a bear hug.
“Ah-! Lance!?” They yell as the duffel bag from their hand falls to the ground.
“Keith!!” Lance yells out, voice rasped from endless crying.
Keith can immediately hear it and wraps his arms around Lance so tight, holding him close. His eyes glow yellow, something that usually happens out of fear, anger, or protectiveness, and his lips protrude to make way for his double set of fangs that are ready to bite any and everyone.
“Lance!” Keith tries to sit up but is pinned to the ground with all of Lance’s dead body weight. “Lance, honey, are you hurt? What’s wrong??”
A hand through curly brown locks and Lance’s crying dies down. He snuggles his face into Keith’s neck and hiccups through a response. Something too incoherent for Keith to make out, but he feels it has something to do with why he was told to go home ASAP.
A few weeks ago, Keith was contacted by Acxa via video chat. They talked and caught up for a few minutes before Acxa told Keith the real reason for her call. She explained that Veronica was having a tough time reaching out to Lance and that he might be in some kind of trouble. Not knowing the full extent of the story, Acxa only told Keith what she heard from Veronica and others. Fearing the worst, Keith packed up his shit and set a course for Earth as fast as he could.
Unfortunately, there were some setbacks on his way over where he had to make a few stops to tend to aliens in need because after all, that’s still his job as a blade member, but when that got finished, Keith hightailed it over. His Galra instincts wouldn't allow him to stay away for much longer anyway and having accepted his galra side a long time ago, it would have been best for everyone to let him go home.
Keith now lays in Lance’s bed, every inch of Lance’s body wrapped up around him like a snake. Keith strokes Lance’s hair soothingly and holds him close to his chest, right over his beating heart. A deep, soothing purr emits itself from Keith’s body and calms Lance’s nerves right down to the bone. Keith knows how much Lance adoreshis Galran features and at this point, Keith would do absolutely anything for Lance to feel better.
They talked about everything that happened and are now in the cuddle stage. Lance has his eyes shut, listening to Keith purr just for him. Long limbs wrapped around every inch of his boyfriend while Keith’s long nails scratch at his scalp, life is so good.
Life is so good with Keith around.
“So,” Keith says, voice as calm as ever. “What exactly did Pidge say?”
“Oh,” Lance answers, his voice quiet as a mouse. “You didn’t see the messages in the group chat?”
“No.” Keith shrugs, laying his cheek against Lance’s forehead. “Been kinda busy.. And I actually don’t understand how a group chat works.”
That rises a chuckle out of Lance as he sits up a bit to reach for his phone on the bedside dresser.
“Idiot,” he whispers with a small smile on his face and it makes Keith light up, his purring becoming a bit louder.
Lance lays back on Keith’s chest as he scrolls through the messages on his phone. When he finds the message from Pidge, Lance clears his scratchy throat and sniffs.
“From Pidgeotto,” he starts, looking at Pidge’s name in their ✨Paladudes✨ group chat. “Just an FYI lance is a.. a total fucking jackass and I am no longer friends with him..”
Keith immediately frowns at that.
Lance continues. “He can suck my big toe for all I care. I’m done with him. Have fun being a lonely loser @LanceyPants.”
“What the fuck?” Keith says, eyes glowing yellow in the dark room. “Why would she say that!?”
Lance shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes again. “Because she was right. I am a jackass..”
“Lance, no!” Keith sits up, bringing Lance with him. They sit side by side as Lance holds himself and looks down at his space blanket. He shrugs once and sniffs.
“Keith, stop,” he says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Look, I said some very hurtful things to her and she lashed out in a perfectly normal way..”
“Normal!?” Keith scoffs, grabbing Lance’s phone and rereading the message again. “Jackass? Loser?? Come on, Lance, she’s completely bullying you and you know it!”
Lance whips around with an angry expression on his face “Because I deserve it!”
The room grows quiet. Keith takes a deep breath and reaches over to grab Lance’s shoulders.
“Calm.” He says, taking a deep breath for Lance to mimic. Lance takes a deep breath with him and lets it out. Keith begins to purr again and it calms Lance even more.
“I.. Sorry..”
Keith nods. He reaches up to cup Lance’s cheek and rubs his thumb across Lance’s tear stained eye.
“You know I would never hurt anyone on purpose..” Lance sniffs. “That’s not who I am. I’m just.. I’m tired of being this symbol of everything strong and good and brave.”
“Mhm,” Keith rubs Lance’s back, leaning in closer to him to nuzzle his forehead. Lance nuzzles back and Keith’s purrs.
“I keep.. I keep hurting everyone I care about..” Lance whispers in a voice so low and fragile, it nearly shatters Keith’s heart.
“That’s not true.” Keith pulls back a little to look into Lance’s teary blue eyes. “Lance, you are the most incredible, selfless, honest person I’ve ever known. You are strong and good and brave even if you don’t mean to be. Or want to be.”
Lance pulls away and stares at his hands. Keith keeps his eyes focused on Lance.
“I know you think you hurt that fangirl from a few months ago.” Keith continues. “Or Pidge. Or Hunk. Or your parents or friend or family or whoever, but you could never hurt anyone.”
“Yeah, right,” Lance shakes his head. “I already did. I hurt everyone.”
“And even if that’s true,” Keith grabs Lance’s hands in his own, “which it’s not, you’re not doing it on purpose. You have a right to your own feelings! And you have a right to speak your mind.”
“And what if that hurts people??” Lance looks up and meets teary eyes to indigo ones. “What if I accidentally hurt my mama or my sisters or brothers, or nieces and nephews because I can’t be who they want me to be, who they think I am!?”
“Lance,” Keith shakes his head.
“What if I hurt you???” Lance’s eyes go wide. He looks Keith up and down and exhales a panicked breath. “God, Keith.. wh-what if I hurt you??”
“Oh, Lancey,” Keith sighs that lovey-dovey sigh where his eyes go all big and black like a cat’s, and the purr in his chest gets louder. “You’ve never hurt me. Ever.”
Lance stares into Keith’s eyes like they’re his lifeline.
“B-but.. but what if-?”
“No more what if’s!” Keith cuts Lance off by covering his mouth with his hand. “Listen to me, Lance. Are you listening??”
Lance nods repeatedly.
“Good,” Keith smiles, all crooked and cute and beautiful. “The only person you ever need to worry about hurting is yourself.”
And there it is. The one thing Lance has been dying to hear without knowing he’d been dying to hear it. It’s like a breath of fresh air, or cool rain on a hot and sweaty day. The permission he needed but didn’t really need. He has a right to care about himself and put himself first but whenever he tries, the guilt eats him alive. Why should he care about himself when he has to care more about others???
No. That’s not the case. It’s never been the case.
“You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself,” Keith finishes, stroking the endless sea of tears that are falling from Lance’s eyes. He strokes Lance’s glowing Altean marks and leans forward to kiss one softly. Lance trembles slightly, closing his eyes to bask in the moment.
“I’m sure Pidge has gotten over it by now,” Keith reassures. “She just has too much pride to make the first more and apologize. You know how she is.”
“Y-Yeah,” Lance hiccups, nodding.
“And Hunk?” Keith scoffs. “I bet your mailbox is full of letters from him, explaining how sorry he is and hoping you’re doing alright. You know if he can’t reach you from your phone, he has other ways.”
That makes Lance smile.
“There’s probably cookies on the way right now.” He looks into Keith’s eyes, exhaling a small laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” Keith agrees, laughing that angelic laugh and showing off his perfect pearly fangs. Lance’s heart skips a fucking beat.
“And your fangirl?” Keith’s purring stops. “Well, she never should have gotten all up in your space that’s for sure. You had every right to punch her.”
“Keith!” Lance squeaks, face contorting into shock and confusion. “I-I didn’t punch her!”
“Really?” Confusion etches itself all over Keith’s features and he puts a finger to his chin. “I could have sworn I read that in your text.”
“No way, man!” Lance defends, waving his arms around. “Why would I ever in my life-!” He stops mid sentence to see the shit-eating grin plastered on Keith’s face.
“Just kiddin, lil lady,” Keith says in his best southern accent, smiling big and wide.
Lance bursts out into a fit of laughter, hitting Keith’s chest and arms and back. Keith shields himself and laughs, grabbing Lance’s arms and bringing him down onto the mattress. They fall back with Keith looming over Lance, his long raven hair surrounding their faces.
Lance stares up into those beautiful, indigo eyes and sniffs, unable to look away. He reaches up and cups Keith’s face, rubbing his thumb over Keith’s Galran stripe.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Keith asks in his softest voice, eyes roaming from Lance’s teary blue eyes to his luscious lips.
“Yes,” Lance nods, not even bothering to blink because if he does, he’ll miss Keith’s everything.
“Don’t let anyone get you down, my sweetheart.” Keith whispers, leaning in closer. “Ever.”
Lance nods.
“And if they do,” Keith’s face turns serious, indigo eyes going dark. “I’ll bite their throats out and hand them to you on a silver platter.”
“Keith,” Lance exhales, going red in the face and ears. “Holy shit, you can’t just say things l-like that.”
Keith’s hard demeanor falls as he giggles and leans in close. Before they close the gap between their lips, Lance whispers, “And hey. I thought pet names were my thing?”
And Keith kisses him to shut him up.
They kiss like they haven’t seen each other in years and it’s the greatest Lance has ever felt. Keith kisses like he’s starving for it, craving it so much more than air and it’s hot and powerful and so, so damn good.
Lance wraps his arms and legs around Keith’s body and kisses him back with fervor. He allows Keith to make him feel better, and kisses his pain away. Keith pulls away slowly, licking into Lance’s mouth before he does so. Lance lets out a small groan and smiles before he opens his eyes.
“I love you,” he whispers, tucking some hair behind Keith’s ear.
“I love you, more,” Keith whispers back, settling himself between Lance’s legs. “Feeling any better?”
“A little,” Lance looks away, sniffling a little. His eyes focus back to Keith’s and a small smile appears on his kiss swollen lips. “But I know a great way you can make me feel all the way better.”
“Oh, yeah,” Keith smirks, burying his face into Lance neck to start kissing slowly. “And what’s that?”
Lance giggles like a little kid, running his hands up and down Keith’s sides. When Keith pulls back, he trails his kisses up the side of Lance’s face and stops at his Altean mark.
“Make love to me,” Lance whispers, rubbing his nose against Keith’s. “Touch me all over and hold me until the sun comes up and just.. love me. Please..”
Keith’s face softens into something full of love and adoration. He moves forward to peck Lance’s lips, then his chin, and then his other Altean mark.
“Anything you want, my sweet..” he kisses Lance’s cheek. “Beautiful..” he kisses Lance’s jaw. “Amazing.. wonderful..”
“Alright, enough!” Lance laughs, slapping Keith in the back. His cheeks are on fire as he closes his eyes when Keith starts nibbling on his neck with his fangs. A chill runs down Lance’s spine and tingles to his toes, making them curl.
Keith sits up one last time and stares at Lance like he’s the world.
“I’ll take good care of you, baby.” He says with the utmost truth in his sultry voice. “I promise. We’re in this together.”
“Yeah,” Lance nods, letting his tears fall down his face and glowing Altean marks. “Together.”
And as Keith kisses Lance so lovingly, Lance can’t help but be glad that he can’t turn back time to be his younger self. Because with Keith around, he feels all the happiness in the whole world just like he did when he was young.
-END-
(send me a klangst prompt)
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hopelikethemoon · 4 years
Text
Orbit (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]
Title: Orbit  Rating: Explicit Length: 1500 Warnings: Smut (masturbation) and Angst Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. September 1992. Did you enjoy Reader’s POV? Well here’s Javi’s POV! Summary: Javier grapples with the situation. 
@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts@synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen@arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou@yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110 @katlikeme​
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She was everywhere. 
Javier pinched at the bridge of his nose as he stared at a spot on the wall, just above his TV. 
What had he done wrong? 
Guilt gnawed at his gut, but the nausea hadn’t been enough to dissuade him from downing three shots of whiskey, straight from the bottle. 
She had taken sips straight from the bottle while she straddle his lap and kissed him right where he sat. Alone. 
His cock twitched pathetically at the memory of her. She’d been perfect — better than even the wildest dreams his mind had conjured up. 
How was he supposed to just forget that night? He hated her for how easily she’d returned to work and shut him out. He should’ve known. The fact that she wasn’t there when he woke up the following morning had been the start of a fresh disaster. 
Javier raked his fingers through his hair and sank back against the sofa as he thought back on that night. Had he misread her signals? Had she been drunker than him? 
It didn’t make any sense to him. She’d been the one to crawl into his lap when they got back to his apartment. She had seemed enthusiastically into the moment. But she clearly regretted it. 
Hell, she wouldn’t even make eye contact with him now. There was a moment, three days after that first day back in the office, where he’d almost said something — anything.
She’d bee-lined to the break room after a meeting and he’d followed her in under the guise of grabbing a cup of shitty break room coffee. 
Javier shook his head slowly as he recalled the flicker of panic he’d seen on her face when she realised they were alone in the room. Panic.
On the face of the woman who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder on long drives, who had never flinched away from grabbing his hand, who used to be at ease around him. How many times had she called him late at night just to talk about novellas — only to fall asleep on the line. She had trusted him and now that trust was gone.
In hindsight, maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t told her how he felt that night. That would’ve added insult to injury, because he’d clearly overstepped some invisible boundary he should’ve seen. 
Javier had given up on trying to reclaim what they had once had. Steve was gone, she was gone — he had no one now. And maybe that was his own doing.
He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, sighing heavily as he tried to forget. But how was he supposed to just forget the best night of his life? 
How many years had he stifled his feelings for her? And he had feelings. Contrary to what Steve thought he knew about the situation, contrary to what everyone thought they knew about him… there were no ulterior motives attached to those feelings. 
If he’d been a little less drunk that night, he might’ve spilled his guts to her. Confessed that she was the only person who had ever made him feel the way he felt. He’d tried to tell her, tried to confess everything in the way he kissed her, in the way he touched her, in the way he held her. He tried to show the words stuck in the back of his throat.
Maybe she’d heard him. Maybe that was why she’d cut him out of her life. 
Wouldn’t that be something? A lifetime of one night stands and the one woman he wanted a lifetime of nights with hadn’t even wanted the one. 
Javier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his head. He could call Elena — work this out of his system. But Elena had always been a proxy and she knew it. If he squinted, he could picture her. And he didn’t want to picture her. Didn’t he?
“Fuck.” He breathed out as he thought back on that night. The way she’d say astride him — right there — the way she’d taken him in. 
The way she’d fallen asleep in his arms — or at least waited until he fell asleep beside her. 
How had he been so fucking stupid? 
Part of him wished he’d just gotten this over with after Lance. He’d been so tempted. They could’ve both brushed it off as two friends scratching each other’s backs — but he’d respected her too much to take advantage of the situation. 
But he’d still managed to fuck it all up in the end. At least if he’d done it back then, he’d still have Steve. 
And yet, he was still certain he’d do it all over again if it meant he could hold her in his arms again. 
Javier leaned forward and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table, lighting it up and taking a hit off of it. He laid back on the sofa, lost in his thoughts. 
God, he missed her. 
Shit was going sideways at the DEA and he couldn’t even exchange looks with her over the bullshit. He couldn’t pick up the phone and call her because he knew — he just knew — she’d hang up on him. 
How did you unlearn knowing how someone felt in your arms? How did you forget what it felt like to find completion buried within them? He’d fucked so many women and… he’d never felt like this. 
Fuck — maybe a shower would help. Waste of a perfectly good cigarette, but he had to do something. 
It wasn’t like he was going to go out. He’d just see her face in every woman he looked at. He’d hear her laugh. Feel her touch. 
Javier took another drag, before snuffing out the cigarette and hauling himself up off the sofa. At least the shower didn’t remind him of her. 
His bed felt like it was cursed now. The sofa too. He couldn’t look at them without picturing her. Without hearing her sleepy sighs or her breathy moans. 
She’d been everything to him for years and now he had to grapple with a world where she was his closest stranger. She knew shit no one else knew about him, but those secrets were behind a locked door he didn’t have the keys to anymore. 
Javier set the shower’s temperature to just this side of too hot, hoping it could scald her touch off his skin. 
That, of course, didn’t help. 
Every time he closed his eyes he could see her. The flecks of light in her eyes as she leaned in to kiss him. That radiating warmth that flooded him when she teased and taunted him. She had always been his better half, but shit if he wasn’t just fooling himself. 
Javier balled his fingers into a fist and hit the shower wall in front of him as he let out a frustrated sound, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the wall as the hot water ran down his back. 
“Need you.” She whispered, “Don’t stop.” 
Fuck. She didn’t need him, but he needed her.
He grunted as he curled his fingers around his hardening cock and pumped his fist over his length. 
It paled in comparison — but he could cling to her memory. The soft touch of her lips, the way her fingers curled around the back of his neck. The way her body clenched as she came. 
“Baby.” Javier breathed, jaw falling slack as he let go and gave into the need pulsing through him. He just needed to take the edge off. To soothe this need for her. 
It felt wrong to think of her, when she so clearly wanted nothing to do with him, but fuck if it didn’t do the trick. 
With a low groan Javier felt his release crest, his body going rigid as he came apart beneath his own touch. 
It wasn’t even good. It didn’t do the trick.
The pleasure was tinged with remorse, fresh guilt warring within him. How was he supposed to keep doing this? 
He used to be fine with being alone — he’d relished in it — but now it felt like he’d been ensared by it. And it was all his own doing. If he’d just controlled himself, if he hadn’t crossed that bridge when he’d been told to avoid it…
Javier tilted his head back, letting the warm water run over his face, hoping it might wash it all away.
Monday would roll around again and he’d spend another week tiptoeing around his favorite stranger. He’d just have to cling to those moments where she forgot — for just a second — that she hated him. At least until he got over this. If he ever got over this. 
He should’ve heeded Steve’s warnings. To stay out of her orbit. 
Was this what heartbreak felt like? 
Javier wanted to say “fuck you” to every singer who romanticized this shit. It hurt like a son of a bitch and he’d lost someone he never had to begin with. 
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delaneytveit · 4 years
Text
The Trouble with Being Useful part 2
Lance had been gone for a long time. Like a long time. Almost the equivalent of eight Earth months. He had missed birthdays, celebrations, parties, meetings, bonding, missions. Granted he knew he likely would, it just hurt knowing he was missing so much of his friends’ lives to fight in battles.
Fighting for the Resistance was a lot different than fighting with Voltron, and even from the way that Keith described his missions with the Blade. Instead of stealth missions or space battles, Lance was on the ground, in the heart of them. He had no idea how different fighting on the ground was from in the air. It was almost like it was a completely different war.
Granted he did fight a few as a pilot, complete a few air and space missions, but it seemed where they really needed him was on the ground. He climbed quickly, though I was likely due to the fact that officers and non officers alike didn’t last very long. He had been witness to a few of his commanding officers take a fatal blaster shot.
These particular  things he kept from the team. He didn’t need them to worry about him. Not when the universe depended on Voltron. So on his bi weekly video calls, he kept them light. hearing about what was happening back at the castle and telling them of all the planets he had been stationed at and his recent promotions. As light as he tried to keep the calls though, it seemed he couldn’t get rid of the tension between all of them. He had basically abandoned them for his own ego after all.
The happy feeling of catching up was always brought to a halt when someone would comment about how long he had been gone or ask him when he would be coming back. He honestly didn’t know, and he knew that they didn’t like that answer, but it was the only one he could give them. He had to wait for his commanding officers to notify him, and considering they were literally in the middle of a battle, it likely wouldn’t be anytime soon. 
Finally the time came though, when he was gifted a few Spicolian movements of leave following a pretty bad shoulder injury. He kept that from the team too, deciding to surprise them. 
Luckily, Coran was willing to help him, giving him the day that the team would be out of the castle on a training mission for Lance to make his surprise visit. It was simple. He flew in without any trouble, and made his way to his room to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes, opting for a newer outfit as it seemed all of his older clothes were a bit too small. 
He hadn’t notice how much he had changed in that 8 months. He was taller now, granted he was pretty tall before, but he seemed to have grown a few inches. His shoulders were a little broader, and though he was still lean, he was more muscular. His hair was longer too, it wasn’t a mullet like Keith’s, no he would rather die than have that, but it did reach his jaw now, the chocolate brown framing his face. He decided against cutting it, he rather liked it now. He slipped into some civilian clothes and made his way to the kitchen to grab a quick snack before heading to the bridge, where he knew the team would soon be to begin their training debriefing. 
He didn’t wait long, simply a few dobashes before the door slid open and he stood up from the seat he had taken earlier. The team was completely engrossed in their conversation as they walked in, paying no attention to the man standing in front of them before Pidge finally looked up and gasped. The rest of the team looked to him with wide eyes, the surprise freezing them in place. 
“Hey guys, guess who’s back!” Lance laughed, breaking the silence. That seemed to launch the group into action, as he was soon encircled by his very tearful teammates. “Aw, I missed you guys too.” 
Allura had given them the rest of the day off, deciding it was much more important to be with their Blue Paladin on his day of return. 
They had taken up post in the lounge, relaxing on the couches as the team asked Lance questions about his time with the Resistance. Finally, Keith had asked the question everyone else was thinking but dreaded the thought. 
“So how long are you staying?” he tried to keep his voice steady, but it was hard. He missed Lance, too much. The castle hadn’t been the same, hadn’t felt the same without him. He missed the jokes, the insults, the bickering, the never-ending noise that came with Lance. Without  him, it was silent, too silent. 
Lance rubbed his injured shoulder at the thought of returning, he knew he had too, he wanted to, but he missed his family so much. “Basically until my shoulder gets cleared.” he almost regretted the words, he forgot that he hadn’t told them about his injuries, more importantly the one that put him out of commission for a bit. 
“What happened to your shoulder?” Shiro asked, the statement reviving a concern he hoped he wouldn’t have to have again. 
Lance hesitated his answer, eventually deciding it would probably do more harm to not tell them. “I uh, caught a few blaster shots in it, completely shattered the head of my humerus and shredded my rotator cuff.” He winced as he recounted the intense pain he had felt when it first happened. 
Everyone else seemed to have the same reaction. “Yeah, it's fine now. I mean they had to basically reconstruct it, and it still really hurts but it's on the mend.” 
“And you’re just gonna go back?” Lance could hear the unease in Keith’s voice. He wanted to assure them that nothing would happen, that he’d be fine, but he knew he couldn’t. He could likely die out there, like so many of the people he fought with. But he could also die here, he almost died here. 
“If they need me, which they do. I have people under my command now.”
They didn’t like the idea of him leaving again, but they knew they couldn’t stop him. He had his mind made. So they spent the time they had with him with enjoyment, dreading the day that he would have to go back. 
Eventually he did go back. It seemed this time that leaving was harder than the first, but he did it. And of course he promised he would be careful and that he would be back soon. 
His second deployment was shorter than the first, only about 5 Earth months, and this time he was able to go back on vacation rather than injury induced leave. When he returned the second time, it was the team that surprised him. They planned an entire party around his return complete with Hunk’s space versions of his favorite foods. Being home made him ecstatic. 
Later that night, Lance found Keith sitting in the lounge long after everyone had gone to bed. He was looking at a hologram of Earth, something Lance used to do on nights like this when he couldn’t sleep. Of course back then it hadn’t been war related nightmares and memories of battle that haunted his mind, but rather homesickness and his insecurities of his place on the team. 
Trying his best not to startle him, Lance sat down in front of Keith, their eyes meeting for the first time since Lance had returned. “You okay man?” he asked. 
Keith looked at him with an expression that pained Lance more than anything. It was then that Lance noticed the familiar jacket that his friend had wrapped around himself, the jacket that Lance had given him when he first left. Keith clutched it to him like he was scared if he loosened his grip he would float away. 
“Is this how it felt when I left?” he finally asked.“Did it hurt this much?” His voice held no malice, but the emotion in it made Lance’s heart drop. He had made Keith feel abandoned for a third time in his life.
He didn’t know how to answer that, it hurt, he knew it hurt. But he also knew that it wasn’t Keith’s fault. Keith wanted to keep the team as together as possible, and Lance couldn’t fault him as he was doing the same thing. 
“It hurt...a lot.” he said simply. “But I think the worst part was not knowing if you were okay or not.” 
It was true, Keith wasn’t the best at communication, especially with the more secretive missions he was on. There were instances in which they had gone weeks without so much as a message from him. 
“That’s why I called so much, I wanted you guys to know that I was okay. That I was alive.” 
“But you weren’t okay.” it was a whisper, but it still held the same feeling as if he had screamed it at the top of his lungs. “You got hurt, and that’s the only one we know of. So much could have happened and we wouldn’t have been the wiser because you weren’t here.” 
“I’m here now.” he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, triying to offer Keith a small smile, but he knew that it wasn’t enough. 
“You weren’t when we needed you.” 
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bookerror · 5 years
Text
Voltron Legendary Defender Masterlist
[ key: ◇ ➻ fluff   ◈ ➻ semi/explicit NSFW   ◆ ➻ angst  * ➻ favorite ]
➺ General Requests:
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Halloween Party at the Castle of Lions* - The Paladins have a Halloween costume party. Shenanigans ensue.
➺ James Griffin:
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New Number One* -  Someone steals the number one class position from right under the prodigy, James Griffin. He’s determined to find out who they are. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with them though.
Point Blank ◈◆ - You dance with Lance at the Garrison Ball and your roommate, James, gets jealous which leads to a long awaited confession.
James has crush on Shiro’s little sister* - Nadia can’t keep her mouth shut and Shiro’s protective of his little sister where James is involved.
Adrenaline Rush ◆ -  James is royalty. You’re a stable hand. And your whirlwind romance is one of the best things in both of your lives. But with James’s future as the new king looms ever closer, insecurities arise and questions are asked that put your relationship in jeopardy. There has to be you can make this work, right? 
Valentine’s Day  ◈  - James is supposed to take you out for dinner, but he gets distracted by your new lingerie set. Really distracted.
➺ Matthew Holt:
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Perspective ◇ -  Once Earth defeats the Galra, Matt Holt returns to his home after five years. Suffice to say that you, his girlfriend, are more than happy to see him return safe and soundly.
Celebrating Halloween with Matt* - Matt loves taking you to haunted houses on Halloween. 
➺ Keith Kogane:
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Bad Day Cuddles* ◇◆ -  Keith is in charge of training new pilots, and some days are worse than others. Thankfully, you’re always there to help him on the worst days.
Baking with Keith * ◇ -  It’s cookie baking time, and things get hot and heavy in the kitchen when Keith offers to help you.
Celebrating Halloween with Keith* - Keith prefers staying in on Halloween to have horror movie marathons with you. 
New Lingerie ◈ - You buy a new lingerie set for Valentine’s Day and Keith, unable to hold himself back, jumps your bones. 
➺ Lotor:
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Second Chances* (WIP): Deaf!Reader |  With Lotor as the new Galran emperor, peace and prosperity are on the horizon. And maybe both you and Lotor will be able to find the acceptance you’ve both been seeking, too.
one 
Lotor x Insecure Reader◇ - Lotor learns about your insecurities and anxieties after you’ve kept them to yourself for so long. He’s there for you every step of the way.
Beach Day w/ Lotor ◇ -  You bring Lotor to his first beach on earth. He makes an event out of it.
Lotor x Reader w/ heart defect*◆ - Lotor learns the extent of your heart defect and promises to find a cure to keep you alive and healthy. Because he loves you so much.
General!reader* ◆ - Pissed off with your recklessness, Lotor challenges you to a few rounds of practice sparring. Things get heated and your fiance admits how much he cares about you.
Means to an End ◆ -  You weren’t meant to see Lotor and Allura kiss. But it triggers a conversation between you and the Galran prince that hold irreversible consequences. There’s no turning back from this. 
Worth It * ◇◈◆ -  The Galra nation is finally at peace and Lotor can happily enjoy the luxury of waking up next to his wife, unburdened by the heaviness of war. But with peace,comes ample time to think: About love. About family. And about himself.
Lotor x Magic!Reader*◇◆ - After keeping your magical abilities a secret for so long, Lotor and you finally have a conversation about it that has him even more fascinated and in love with you.
Got milk? (crack) -  Paladins are away on a mission and Lotor is roaming the Castle of Lions when he encounters you: an unknown member of Team Voltron. Welcome to ‘The Domestic Adventures of Lotor.’ In this installment, Lotor learns where desert comes from!   
In the Moment *◇ -  Lotor’s been busy with diplomatic meetings and royal politics. You’ve been busy learning more about Galran culture. When will you be able to spend some alone time together? (hint: it’s now)
His fem!s/o dresses up for Halloween* ◇ - You dress up for Halloween and Lotor thinks you’re stunning--he’s just doesn’t understand the holiday and costumes. Thankfully, you’re there to explain everything to him in a cute and funny conversation.
Celebrating Halloween with Lotor and your kids* ◇ - Lotor, your kids, and you have your first family Halloween on Earth. You knock out all of the classical Halloween activities: decorating, jack-o-lanterns, horror movies, oh my!
➺ Lance McClain:
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Caffeinated Love Story -  He meets you at the university coffee shop and is smitten, but Allura makes things complicated because she believes you’re not a good match. But you think he’s just right. 
Valentine’s Day ◇ - Lance showers you with gifts and unconditional love on this very special day.
Celebrating Halloween with Lance* - Think couples costumes and raiding the supermarket for candy with your boyfriend.
➺ Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane:
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Celebrating Halloween with Shiro* - Shiro is obsessed with decorations--he’s gotta impress the kids that come to your house to trick-or-treat. (ft. sexy fireman Shiro)
Wine and Dine ◈ -  You’ve just transferred back to the Garrison after two years at another military base. One month back, it’s Valentine’s day and your old co-pilot Shiro calls you for an impromptu date. You always thought your crush on him was unrequited. But after tonight, he makes his feelings loud and clear.
New Lingerie ◈ -   You buy a new lingerie set for Valentine’s Day and tackle Shiro into bed when he comes home.
802 notes · View notes
Director’s Commentary- Love for You, Violet wants to go to the Garrison
My commentary is in bold <3 
Violet stood in front of them with a wide smile. “Well, today a lady came to talk to our science class and guess what?” Her fathers looked at each other with amusement then at her. This part with her talking was funny to write because I had to keep it in a little kid voice. So it always feels awkward reading over her little recap because it’s supposed to be in an eleven year old’s voice. “She was from the Garrison! She came and talked to us, and I already knew the stuff, but then she had a simulator for a ship! And everyone failed, but then I went last and they were making fun of me but guess what? I was the only one to finish it! The lady figured out who I was and she said I was basically already admitted! You guys just have to fill this out!” She revealed the packet and smiled up at them.
I imagined that the whole time she was recapping, Keith and Lance were both like... slowly feeling this wave of terror. It’s something that should have been obvious to them, but it wasn’t and now it’s blindsided them. But the expressions on their faces made her excitement disappear almost immediately.
Papa took the packet and flipped through it. “What? No. No way.” Obviously Lance takes it the hardest because he lost the most when he left. He’s the one hit by the trauma more than the others, at least in his immediate family.
Dad pulled out a chair and sat down. “Vi…. You want to go to the Garrison?”
She looked between them and her ears started flicking nervously. “Well… yeah.”
“Why?” That was Papa. He sounded angry. “We spent so long trying to come back to Earth and now you want to go and… be at this place?”
Violet felt a mixture of fear and anger bubbling in her, but she wasn’t sure which she wanted to indulge, so she tried to keep herself calm. That bit felt a little older than her, but I wanted to show this fear of not being allowed into this ideal place and the fear of her parents not letting her as well as the anger over the fact that they seem so against it and so angry because it just seems that everything has made them angry. “I wanna go to the Garrison because I’d fit in. They’d know who I am, I wouldn’t get bullied all the time. I’m good at it! Aunt Pidge taught me about the codes, Uncle Hunk taught me the machinery. I can speak in three alien languages! The Garrison is the perfect place for me and what I can do!”
“No! No, you’re not going there!” Papa shouted. It sucks, but the truth is parents don’t always handle things in the best way. Lance is very much not handling this calmly or appropriately. He’s just panicking. Charlie and Oliver froze on the floor where they were playing with some toys. And I’m also trying to slowly show the way the kids are all seeing this and kind of getting used to it in a way? Or at least it’s a norm that shouldn’t be. 
“Lance, calm down,” her dad said. He looked at Violet and sighed. “Violet, that school… you know it means you wouldn’t live with us anymore, right? And you’re only eleven. You have a whole year to think-”
“I don’t need to think!” she snapped. “Sergeant Bloom said I could be let in anyway. I thought you’d be proud of me. I’m the first person ever to beat the simulation on the first try!”
“Sweetheart, that is amazing,” Daddy said. “But you have to understand, a lot of things happened to us at the Garrison. They also haven’t exactly.... talked to her about it in depth, you know? The last thing we wanted was for you-”
“You already went! This is my choice, not yours!” she shouted.
“Violet, lower you voice,” Papa said, giving her an angry look. “You’re scaring your brothers. So this part. Although Lance is the one blowing it out of proportion, he’s using this moment to turn the blame on Violet and in a way try and stifle the conversation. Not a good thing. But again. Lance hasn’t been at his best at this point. You’re not going to that school.”
He reached for the application on the table, but Violet lunged forward and snatched it away. “No!” she shrieked. “You’re not taking it!” In my head that bit was very frantic.
“Violeta Esperanza vas a estar castigada!”
“Fine! Ground me! I don’t care!” She scowled and stomped her foot. Violet’s really good at being stubborn which she gets from both of them. “I want to go to the Garrison! I’d be good at it! People wouldn’t think my ears are weird there! Space was my home, and just because you guys want to pretend space never happened, it doesn’t mean I do!” I think the last line was a huge slap for both of them. Because honestly that is what they’ve been doing. And Violet also correlates space to happiness while Earth, to her, is to blame for her parents becoming the way they have. 
Daddy got up from the chair and held out his hand. “Give me the application, Violet.” Violet looked at him, clutching the packet closer. “When’s the deadline?”
“She just said to give it to Mrs. Singfiel when you filled it out,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Okay. We’re gonna talk about it. No more screaming. Give me the application. Let’s give this a week, okay?”
“Are you lying to me?” Violet asked, tears already beginning to streak down her face.
Daddy knelt down and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’d never lie to you, Vi.” She sniffed and gave him the wrinkled packet. “Go to your room. Take your brothers.” At this point Keith is remaining calm because well, for one, he wasn’t hit as hard by leaving Earth as Lance. He’s tired from work, and really, he’s trying to keep things calm before the inevitable blow up with Lance when they talk it through. Because the whole time the only one saying no has been Lance. Keith is more just... confused and trying to catch up. 
Her stomach flipped at that, but she did as she was told. She knows that “take your brothers” means they’re gonna argue. And she feels to blame for this argument. She gave the boys some of her old toys to entertain them then cracked the door open.
“-me the fucking bad guy, huh?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Daddy said.
“We’re not letting her go there.”
“Why not?” Violet chewed on her lip. “She wants to go. It’s safe there. She’s not going to go AWOL like we did. They gotta remember the whole reason they got blasted into space wasn’t because the Garrison sent them, but because they snuck out of the classes and found a robot lion. There’s no war to worry about-”
“When we came home, I thought it meant we could leave the Garrison behind us,” Papa said. Violet carefully opened the door a little more to try and peek out into the dining room. “She’s supposed to make her life here, Keith.” At this point, they kind of all have these individual idea of the best Earth life. And it’s all clashing. 
“Her going to the Garrison doesn’t mean she’s gonna leave and live on Pluto, Lance! She’s not trying to leave us, she’s trying to find her place! And she’s right, she’d be a great pilot or specialist or whatever the fuck she wants to fucking be. She has experience, she knows the languages, she was born in space! How could we have ever expected her to not want to be part of the Garrison?” I’d like to think that because Keith was the one able to actually have her, he has this softer side than he ever did with anything. For him, it’s like, “My kid is gonna be great at whatever they want and I’m supporting them.” Even when it makes him scared or unhappy. It’s a closer bond because this is all so unique and new to him (family). 
“After all the shit that came from that fucking place-”
“You met me there. We were there when we found out about Voltron.”
“And we got sucked into space for over a decade,” Papa hissed.
It was quiet for a while. “We fell in love. We had… we had Violet and we got married and we had kids. Lance, you can’t… erase the bad from something without erasing the good. Like it or not, the Garrison- space- is always going to be part of Violet. I’m not going to be the one holding her back.” I wanted this part to kind of. Show the clashing between Keith and Lance. How things are starting to unravel. And it’s kind of a big punch that Lance has all this anger and hate and fear towards the Garrison while Keith has it in his head as the root of how he started his family and found love in many ways. This back and forth was one of my favorite things to write because there’s an underlying argument there too. 
She saw him sit at the table and he started writing on the packet. Papa was staring at him with a weird look on his face. “If you want to keep her close, you can’t shut down her dreams,” Daddy said, leaving the pen on the table. “I’m taking a shower.” For Keith in this story, showers are always his way of getting away while at home. Especially after arguing with Lance. 
5 notes · View notes
thespacenico · 5 years
Note
klance 5 :)
“you’re safe now.”
。·:*:·゚★,。·:*:·゚☆
War means sacrifice.
But it doesn’t always specify what kind.
Because even if the paladins of Voltron had been more or less dragged into an intergalactic space war against their will with no choice other than to fight, they still understood the risks.
That doesn’t mean they ever envisioned having to deal with the consequences.
Everything that had even the slightest chance of going wrong has done exactly that.
Gone wrong.
Including, but not limited to: the team has been separated, Keith’s comms aren’t working, his Lion is out of commission, he doesn’t know where he is other than smack dab in the middle of hostile territory surrounded by sentries, and Lance—
“C’mon,” Keith pants, hands clasped against Lance’s chest, the growing panic and desperation in his chest threatening to claw his throat apart with every compression, each one harder than the next. “C’mon, c’mon—”
He counts to thirty. Moves back to Lance’s mouth, where his unusually pale cheeks are already wet and clammy from Keith’s tears. Pulls away after two breaths and returns to his chest even though he knows there’s no use, Lance’s eyes are still closed, Lance still isn’t breathing, it’s been too long—
Lance is gone.
“No,” Keith whispers, face sticky with tears, and sweat, and blood he’s not sure is even his. Distantly he hears the sound of shoulders slamming and weapons firing against what’s left of the barricade. “No, no—Lance, stay with me.”
He tries two more breaths, and sits back on his feet and searches frantically for any sign of life, feeling for Lance’s pulse, listening for his heartbeat, checking his face.
The barricade shakes violently from behind him.
He’s running out of time.
“Lance, wake up,” Keith mumbles, far past the point of tears—now he’s just cold, and numb, and maybe it’s from shock or the wound throbbing in his own side but it doesn’t matter now. “Don’t make me leave you. I’m not leaving you.”
Lance lies unresponsive before him, the chest plate of his armor tossed aside, under suit soaked with blood where he’d taken a hit. A hit that should’ve hit Keith, had he not shoved him out of the way at the last second.
A particularly loud blast, and the barricade shudders again, hardly seconds away from collapsing entirely.
Keith leans forward and takes Lance’s face in his hands. Even without direct contact, he can still feel the last of Lance’s warmth seeping through the thin material covering his fingers.
“Lance,” he breathes out. The heat building behind his eyes returns, and he doesn’t fight it. “You can’t leave now. You can’t—please, Lance.” He squeezes his eyes shut and leans down, pressing their foreheads together, letting out a single, choked sob.
“You can’t leave me.”
“Keith.”
The barricade finally bursts and the room floods with sentries, weapons raised to fire. Keith doesn’t move.
“Keith? Hey, wake up.”
A tear rolls down Keith’s cheek and drops onto Lance’s as Keith gathers Lance’s lifeless body into his arms, and then the sentries are on them.
“Keith, wake up—”
Keith lurches awake with half a gasp that catches in his throat. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his face is streaked with tears, his skin is clammy and his knuckles are white from clutching the bedsheets, and for a brief moment he panics because it’s dark and it’s hot and it’s too hard to breathe—
A quiet click, and the bedside lamp is being switched on to illuminate the same bedroom that he’d fallen asleep in—not the control room of a hostile base swarming with sentries. And yet the familiarity of it does nothing to soothe Keith’s nerves.
Because there, sitting up beside him, eyes wide and brow pinched with concern, and one hand firm and steadying on Keith’s shoulder, is Lance.
Lance. Alive. Not lying blood-soaked and motionless on a cold metal floor.
He can’t even bring himself to be relieved. Everything is still too fresh in his mind.
Lance seems to sense that, because he shifts in place to face him better, hand never leaving his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says softly, and the sound of his voice alone is almost enough to bring Keith back to the verge of tears. “You were just having a bad dream.”
Keith is only half-listening, mind reeling and hands shaking as he slowly reaches up to rest them on either side of Lance’s face, still trying to catch his breath as he stares at him.
Warm. Breathing. Alive.
Lance’s brows pull together as he stares back, confused, and he gently places his free hand over Keith’s wrist. “Keith?”
His skin is warm, his heart is beating, his pulse is strong and he’s alive and he’s here.
Keith’s breath catches again, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “Lance.”
And then Lance is pulling him close, arms winding carefully but securely around his shoulders as Keith clings to him.
“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Lance says softly, soothingly, brushing his fingers through Keith’s hair and up and down the length of his back. “You’re okay.”
“You’re okay,” Keith echoes in a whisper, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at the fabric of Lance’s shirt.
And it’s like Lance can hear Keith’s thoughts, despite having no clue what he was dreaming about in the first place. “You’re safe now,” he murmurs. “Just breathe.”
Keith shivers, and buries his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, and breathes.
Lance is safe.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, although he’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for. “I’m sorry, Lance—”
“Hush, sweetheart, none of that.” Lance disentangles himself from Keith’s grasp and pulls back but stays close, one hand still on his shoulder, the other raised to wipe Keith’s tears away with his thumb. He brushes the hair out of Keith’s face and offers a small, reassuring smile. “Why don’t you take a shower,” he says quietly. “Okay? And I’ll make us some tea.”
Keith manages to swallow down the lump in his throat and nod, not quite trusting himself to speak anymore. So they climb out of bed, and Lance stays long enough to help Keith out of his sweat-soaked shirt and press a kiss to his forehead before slipping out of the room to give him some privacy.
The hot spray of the shower only does so much to relieve the tension in Keith’s muscles. He can’t seem to shake the remaining images of the nightmare from his mind, flashing relentlessly behind his eyelids every time he closes his eyes. Needless to say, he doesn’t stay long, toweling his hair off and stumbling back into the bedroom to slip into the fresh clothes Lance must have left out for him (including a pair of shorts, and the oversized sweater of Lance’s that he knows Keith likes to steal because no matter how many times it goes through the washer, it still smells like Lance).
Lance is in the kitchen when Keith comes out, humming softly while he waits for the water to boil. Keith stands silently in the doorway for a moment, watching as he moves about the kitchen, pulling two mugs out of the cabinets and rummaging through their small selection of tea flavors for their favorites.
Appreciating.
He still hasn’t moved by the time Lance finally spots him. A pang of guilt shoots through his chest at the look of relief that flickers across Lance’s face, but it quickly melts into an easy smile as he comes to meet him, taking Keith’s hand and giving it a careful squeeze before wordlessly leading him into the living room and sitting him down on the couch.
Another kiss, on the cheek this time, and Lance slips back into the kitchen to finish making their tea.
Keith watches him the entire time.
And he knows he’s making Lance worry, from the way he keeps shooting quick glances over the counter as if to make sure Keith is still there on the couch and attempting reassuring smiles that only go halfway, but Keith—can’t help it. He can’t stop staring. He just wants to look, and look and look until the images of Lance’s bedhead and sloping freckled shoulders and and rise and fall of his chest are permanently implanted into his brain.
A moment later, Lance returns to the living room with a mug of hot tea in each hand and a small smile that Keith would look at forever if he had the time. He’s faintly aware of Lance placing one of the mugs into his hands, and sitting down beside him with his legs tucked underneath himself as he gets settled, chuckling to himself.
“Babe, I know you think I’m pretty, but is there some other reason you can’t seem to stop looking at me?”
It’s light, and teasing, but Keith can see the quiet concern etched into his features. Because he’s still smiling, but his gaze is searching, looking for answers in that way it does that’s just short of prying, but urgent all the same.
Keith blinks, and finally manages to tear his eyes away to look down at the steaming cup of tea in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
Lance reaches out and tugs one of Keith’s hands into his own, resting them on his knee. “You don’t have to be,” he murmurs. He pauses, tracing a circle across the back of Keith’s hand. “You know I’m here for you, right?”
Keith bites his lip and blinks back the heat building again behind his eyes. I’m here. He nods slowly.
It’s quiet for a few beats, and then: “Do you need to talk about it?” Lance asks softly.
Does he want to? No, not especially. But does he need to?
Keith closes his eyes, takes a deep, shaky breath, and squeezes Lance’s hand.
“Yeah. I do.”
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years
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The Timbre Of Cruelty & Kindness
James thinks about the Galra and their hand in the war. Celebrating a birthday with his mute girlfriend helps put things into perspective.
I haven't seen many works for Acxa/James and wanted to make a little something. Didn't know what to write though so I ended up using a random word generator and got, 'mute'. Thus this fic was born.
James has seen it firsthand, the cruelty of the Galra military. Seen it in the demolished planets left desolate and smoldering. He has felt it when their shots rocked his craft and when their blades sliced at his back. He smelled it in the acidic plumes left in the wake of their warships and battlegrounds. In the rotting carnage they left behind. He has even tasted it. Tasted the toxins on his tongue, the blood in his mouth at a rough punch form a bulking, hulk of a soldier.
But he hadn’t truly heard the cruelty of the Glara military until he heard the silence.
Her silence.
He has always thought that he’d first hear the cruelty of the Empire in the screams of a battle, in the anguished cries of fallen Balmaras, humans, Krellians, and whatever other species they had gone after. Or maybe he would hear it in the lonely hiss of the wind as it passes through a now desolate and dead Olkari.
He hadn’t considered that he would hear the cruelty on such a personal level.
Acxa is a quiet woman, she has been since Veronica first introduced them.
He remembers holding out his hand and the Galra simply staring at it until Veronica tells her that shaking hands is one type of greeting. He recalls her silent and reluctant return of the gesture.
And that had been that.
At first he had tried to coax conversation out of her. But she never returned it save for a few nods. Over time, James has grown used to her silence. At one point he had come to accept that she is simply a woman of few to no words at all.
Over time he learns that he doesn’t have it entirely right.
.oOo.
She sleeps, propped up against him.
He thinks that it might just be the soundest sleep she has gotten in a while.
He watches the rise and fall of her chest and the occasional twitch of her lips, as she mumbles something in her sleep without making any tangible sound at all.
James hopes that her dream conversation is pleasant.
Acxa shifts positions a few times before before her eyes flutter open and she peers up at him. She musters a sleepy but kind smile.
He doesn’t understand how they could have hurt someone like her and felt nothing for it.
She pulls herself up right, turns to face him, and gives his head an affectionate pat with a brighter smile. The same sort she had offered him after he had handed her the plush toy he’d won on clear day.
She had hugged it to her chest with a joyful sort of half-coo, half-pur.
She still sleeps with the thing in her arms, he’d be lying if he tried to say it hadn’t made him at least a little jealous at one point. He didn’t know how she could snuggle that ugly thing and not him. He’d come to find that it was simply easier for her to show affection to things that had no sentiance. Eventually, though, she had set the stuffed critter aside and started cuddling him like that.
Today, she has taken to waving the hideous stuffed animal in his face until he takes it from her and sets it aside. With it out of the way, he gives her nose a small kiss and waits for the flush to appear on her cheeks as it so often does when she receives any kind of affection.
She smiles and returns the gesture before signing a thank you.
That has been an obstacle.
James barely passed his high school Spanish class. But then, he hadn’t been exactly motivated to learn a second language. Learning sign language had been somehow different, Galra sign language at that. He found that there were some similarities between human signing and Galra signing, but they were still vastly different. There are some signs that he physically cannot produce with human anatomy. But that is fine, he just needs to know what she is signing to him.
Acxa is cheerful, her eyes are so bright, accented by a smile that lights her entire face. It is a stark contrast to the mournful Galra who’d first come to them. She tugs out of his hold and pulls him into standing. The only warning he gets, before being tugged along, is a gesture to follow. She doesn’t exactly give him time to register the motion nor to recall the meaning of that sign, but he puts two and two together as she leads him down the hall.
It is her birthday, he recalls, and she seems to be as enthusiastic as he was for Christmas morning when he was eight. He thinks that this might be the first time she has even a chance at a kind and warm birthday. It will be the first, he realizes, in three years that she isn’t spending alone.
Much of the Atlas’ inhabitants are gathered in the cafeteria for her birthday breakfast. She looks adorably perplexed at the display. He wonders if the Glara has ever seen balloons and streamers before. He guesses that she hasn’t because she hits one of the balloons back and forth, with her head slightly tilted.
He knows that she has never interacted with a balloon before when one of her little claws punctures the balloon and she jolts back.
For a moment, she looks as though she has committed some horrible sin. With a chuckle, Keith speaks up first, “Yeah, that happens a lot, they are easy to pop. Balloons and Galra claws don’t mix very well.”
Acxa nods but she still looks terribly baffled. ‘Why are they wearing cones?’ She signs.
“They’re called party hats.” James replies.
“You get one too.” Veronica proclaimed as she slips one over Acxa’s right horn.
‘But, why?’ She asks.
James doesn’t have an answer for her so he shrugs and says, “it’s just an Earth tradition.” He leads her to her seat.
“I made some confetti pancakes for you.” Hunk states. “My mom always made them for me on my birthday. She even let me have strawberries and whip cream.” He sets the whip cream before her and a platter of fruits for her to choose from.
“Try it with bananas.” James suggests. “I think that bananas and pancakes go well together.”
She takes his word for it, and seems delighted by his suggestion. She offers him a bite and, after adding an absurd amount of whip cream for just a small piece, he eats it. He rubs her shoulders as she finishes her meal.
He considers for a moment, how eating had been something he used to take for granted. When they had first found her, Acxa struggled to do even that. For a time she could only eat liquid foods and things that melted in her mouth.
He gives a slight shudder, she had been in poor condition when they’d found her. Metnally and physically. He had begun to fear that her psyche had been damaged beyond repair. Looking at her now, he wouldn’t have been able to guess that she’d suffered any sort of trauma.
After she finishes her breakfast, Lance showers her with a glimmering cloud of glitter and confetti. She picks up one of the metallic flakes and inspects it for a moment before looking to James for an explanation.
She has so many questions and he doesn’t know how to answer the why’s. He just knows that confetti is a party must, and so he tosses it every now and again. He pulls out his phone. “Let’s just say people like throwing things at other people.” He replies after skimming through a lengthy wiki article about medieval Italian parade rituals.
Again Acxa cocks her head, but she accepts the answer with a shrug. He is certain that she will research it herself later on. He watches her push the confetti around with her finger. He isn’t sure who, but someone turns the radio on.
By the time the party reaches its height, Acxa seems to have settled into things. It almost seemed as though she has had a human style birthday celebration before. He has his arm around her waist as she socalizes, doing her best to uphold a few conversations at once. He struggles to pick up on the conversation with Veronica and Keith--who have developed such  talents for Galra sign language that it is hard to keep up with the speed. He can tell that it brings his girlfriend a sense of reassurance.
She has normalcy back in her life.
A sort of normalcy anyways.
The kind that she expressed that she didn’t think she would ever have again after they had cut her tongue.
Dressed in what must be custom-fit pajamas--ones that she has just uncovered from a box wrapped with shiny, balloon-print wrapping paper-she crawls onto her bed. He knows that, though she seemed to have enjoyed herself, she is tired and has reached her threshold of social interaction for the week.
Even still, she pats a spot on the bed next to her and James comes to join her.
He hugs the woman and kisses her ear. She picks up one of the other presents she has received, an ornate picture frame. She holds up her hands and begins her soundless speech. This time he doesn’t know what she is trying to say.
“You had a good time?” He asks.
She shakes her head and repeats her motions.
“You hated it and never want to have another birthday party again.”
This time after shaking her head, she points at the picture frame.
“You want to exchange it for a better gift, but you don’t want to hurt Kinkade’s feelings?” He guesses.
Acxa sighs and gently puts her palm to her forehead. She tries once more.
“That is your favorite gift and you want me to tell Kinkade that he is your new best friend?”
She is growing frustrated, but he can detect a hint of amusement at his horrid translations. She sighs again, this time with words. She is still rather hard to understand, especially her ‘S’ words.  
“You want me to send you a picture of us?” He asks.
She nods, ‘so I can frame it’, she adds in sign.
“I will.” He replies.
She nods again and lays herself down, rubbing her cheek into the pillow. He pulls the blanket over her.  
It has been a long time since he has heard her speak, he had been beginning to forget how she sounds. Through rather extensive surgery and therapy has recovered her vocal ability, to some extent anyhow. But her speech is often garbled and hard to make out. Her ability to properly shape the words is lost to her. It sounds as though she still has her tongue, but she is trying to speak with it pressed to the bottom of her mouth.
He remembers her stating that she doesn’t like the sound of her voice anymore, that the quality of her speech makes her seem illiterate. So she sticks to her signing unless someone really struggles to interpret it. Even then, he has seen her fetch something to write or type on.
Acxa only every vocally communicates with he, Keith, and Veronica these days.
He wishes that she would speak more, he still finds her voice to be soothing. But he doesn’t push her.
He lays down in front of her and cups a hand to her cheek. She mimics the motion, her feeling of her claws sending a pleasant tingle down his spine. She gives him a sleepy smile. Looking into those eyes, he wonders, again, how they can be so cruel.
How they could go out of their way to try to take the lively glimmer out of her eyes.
Acxa is a kind woman and, despite her rough exterior, one of the gentlest souls he has come upon.
It is hard to fathom that anyone would want to abuse her in such a way.
He has seen, felt smelled, and tasted the cruelty of the Galra Empire. Most of all, James has heard the cruelty of the Galra Empire. And it comes in the form of silence.
But he has also seen the kindness of the Galra in those kind smiles, in the shelters she and the blade had helped construct for those who’d lost theirs to the war. He has felt it in those small gestures; the way she nuzzles closer, the way she holds him--it is as tender and loving as any human he has known. He has smelled the kindness of the Galra in the strange flowers she gives him and has tasted in when she offered him a traditional dish or two. He had been able to tell that she had worked hard on them.
Most of all, he has heard it.
Heard a unique Galra brand of affection and care.
He has heard it in her, sheepish and broken speech.
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hailqiqi · 5 years
Note
2, 10, 24, and 30!!
Thank you for the ask!!!!! :D
Fic Writer Asks
2. things that motivate you 
Having one less thing to do. That’s it. No, I’m serious, that is literally the only thing that motivates me. me and motivation don’t have a good relationship.
10. how do you do your researches? 
Google! My google-fu is top notch. I also tend to ask people, especially for cultural things.
30. hardest part of writing 
Finding the time to write, and finding that perfect opening line for a scene. Once I have an opening the rest just falls out of my fingertips but getting that opening can be hard.
24. favorite scene you’ve ever written
OK, this one was a tricky question. I was tossing up the world is out there, my dear, but we’re in here (it’s a one-scene fic! it counts!) for the interaction and the seat of your pants tense-ness that I managed to do in there, and Chapter 3 of The Future in Snippets (the SFW stake-out convo)…again for the interaction. I love Lance & Pidge having serious talks, okay?
But in the end, it’s this scene from the first chapter of Skirting Katabasis. I like it because it brings a lot of deeper connections to the story than I had originally planned; I had wanted a bonding adventure fic, and the details of this scene kinda unveiled themselves to me during the writing process and I ended up with a very rich emotional bond between the characters which I love. I also think it establishes the tone for the entire fic in a way that’s almost literary. 
(Really, as soon as I read ‘favourite scene’ I thought ‘personal effects’ and upon examination…yeah, it’s personal effects.)
Copied below because why not?
The Heist went off without a hitch.
They’d fallen into old habits quickly, covering each other as they cleared each room of the base. Once they were sure no squatters had moved in since Keith’s mission with the Blades they hit up the control room, where Keith kept an eye out (more out of habit than anything else) while Pidge copied every byte of data she could find in their servers.
Once that was done, they moved to the room with  The Obol.
Pidge hadn’t been able to hold back the tears when she first saw it. There, right in front of her, lay her father’s pride and joy, the pinnacle of a lifetime’s career…in pieces all over the floor. The shell of the ship had been taken off in chunks and was still recognisable, but everything down to the toilet seat had been disassembled into its smallest components and then seemingly thrown at random. She wasn’t sure if they were stripping it for valuables or just examining it to see how it worked, but both options made her angry.  The Obol  was a masterpiece of human engineering. It didn’t deserve  this .
But, as always, they had a job to do, and there was no time to wallow in sadness. Pidge brought the Green Lion into the nearest hangar and they quickly got to work, carting bits and pieces from the room to the storage bay in Green’s underbelly using some boxes and old-fashioned trundle trolleys that Pidge had found on the castle. Some bits were easy, some — like the larger pieces of the shell — required both pairs of hands and a lot of grunting, and others — like the shredded mattresses they found discarded in a corner — brought the anger back and gave them fuel for the next trip.
At one point — two hours in — Pidge had returned from the hangar to find Keith standing at the side, his back to her and his shoulders shaking. He had turned at her approach and held out the item in his hands — a Garrison jacket with SHIROGANE written on the breast — and her heart had stopped.
She hadn’t been prepared to find personal effects.
As it turned out, neither of them were. In hindsight, it was an obvious oversight — why would the Galra keep the pieces of the ship, but not the contents? — but both of them had been so focused on bringing the ship back to life that they forgot about things like socks and pencil cases and photographs. After the discovery of the jacket Keith had fetched three boxes and placed them in the centre of the room, and any personal items they came across were silently placed in the corresponding box before they went back to the task at hand. There was no time to waste on tears.
It took them a little under seven hours to stow everything safely on-board the Green Lion. The three boxes were the last things to board, and stayed in the cockpit with them. Pidge took off, set the autopilot, and took one look at the minute shaking of Keith’s shoulders before deciding that there was time to wallow after all. The duo spent the trip back kneeling on the hard floor of the cockpit, turning over the items in the boxes and recounting memories, sobbing and laughing in turn as they leant against each other with tears running down their faces.
By the time they broke atmo on Olkarion they had dry throats and red eyes, but the experience had brought them a little closer and given them renewed determination to put the ship together and fix something in the mess that was their shattered lives. For the first time, Pidge wondered if Keith had specifically asked her to help with this project for more than just her technological prowess.
Unloading was much quicker than loading, and by the time they finally disembarked in Green’s hangar — sweaty, greasy, and exhausted — the sky was starting to show the first signs of dawn. If they showered and went straight to bed they might get about four hours sleep before they had to be up for their first meeting of the day, and while that wasn’t enough neither Pidge nor Keith were ever really expected to contribute much to diplomatic niceties so Pidge at least had that to be thankful for.
They shuffled down the hallways side-by-side in companionable silence, both too physically exhausted and emotionally drained to bother making conversation. Pidge’s entire focus was on putting one foot in front of the other — when she got to her room, she was going to have the quickest, hottest shower ever, and then she was going to sink into her warm Altean blanket-cloud and have the best sleep of her life.
She must have muttered that aloud, because Keith let out a short laugh and grunted something that sounded like ‘me too’. Or maybe her thoughts were just that loud that even Keith was picking it up over the bond. Whatever.
Nothing was going to get in the way of her and her bed, and she was so close. They were almost at the lounge.
“What the quiznak have you two been up to?!”
Lance’s voice shattered the quiet of the hallway, cutting through her thoughts like a knife and making her head throb with pain. Beside her, Keith stumbled and almost fell, evidently as shocked by Lance’s sudden appearance as she was. Or would be, if she was awake enough to feel anything but blurry exhaustion.
“Lance…?” she said slowly, squinting at him. “What are you doing awake?”
Lance stood at the turn towards their rooms in his dressing gown, one hand on his hip as he surveyed them with raised eyebrows. “What am I doing awake? What the quiznaking cheesey telephones are you two doing awake? And don’t tell me Rynar took you to a club or something, because I won’t believe you.”
Pidge stared at him, the wheels in her mind sluggishly turning before settling on an answer. “It’s a really long story.”
She saw Keith minutely shake his head out of the corner of her eye. By the way Lance’s expression hardened, she guessed he’d noticed it too. “Care to share?”
“She can’t,” Keith said, straightening up. “Secret mission.” He patted Pidge lightly on the shoulder and started forward down the hall. “The sun’s almost up. I’m going to bed.”
Lance narrowed his eyes but let him pass with a murmured 'goodnight’ before turning back to Pidge, concern and confusion warring in his gaze. All of a sudden Pidge felt very aware of his presence. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run to him or bolt in the other direction, bed be damned.
As the silence ticked on, Keith’s advice from earlier sprang to mind, and the words were tumbling out of her mouth before she had time to think about them. “Do you want to go and watch the sunrise?”
He blinked at her. “Seriously?”
Pidge shrugged and shuffled her feet. “I’ll need to take a shower first, but yeah?”
Lance’s expression slowly blossomed into a wide smile, and Pidge fleetingly thought that it was brighter than any of the stars she’d seen so far. Quiznak.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
For once, the happiness radiating down the bond was palpable to Pidge.
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geneshaven · 6 years
Text
Arrow, Season 6 (Threads of Discord)
The following breakdown of Season 6 has been churning around in my addled brain since 623 ended two weeks ago, and today I felt compelled to bring it out into the light of day.  I am not agreeing or disagreeing with anybody else’s take on the season. I’m only putting it down in black and white, because quite frankly, it’s a way for me to make sense of what was served up to us this season. I was left with some discombobulated thoughts and feelings when 623 was over, so much so that the next night I felt an immediate need to write a fic, (The Distance Between Two Hearts, *plug, plug*) to give everything  a happy ending and to help it all go down smoother. So, here is my final take on the Season as a whole.
When Lian Yu blew up at the end of Season 5, the writers of Arrow left a few storylines up in the air; mainly, Oliver and Felicity and their momentum of getting back together. A lot of fans just assumed it was a done deal. They kissed. They hugged. They made a promise to one another that after the smoke cleared; they would talk about being in each other’s lives again. (I’ve thought recently that the visual of Lian Yu exploding into larger fireballs could be a great summation of Season 6.)
So, hiatus came upon us in the summer of 2017 and the writers tried to pull a fast one, leaving all our beloved characters fates up in the air via a lame cliffhanger. Oliver saved William from Chase’s clutches. Samantha was killed, giving life to one of the plot lines for Season 6. Thea was caught in the explosions, blasted into a coma; a colossal waste of her character and of Willa’s acting abilities. John was injured, setting up yet another ill-conceived plot line for Dig. The Newbies---well, they survived, but a lot of fans might have wished they were blown up. Quentin survived, only to be killed off after stringing him and us along with a lunatic fringe thing with Black Siren---another waste of a good character and actor. And Felicity? Of course she would survive. But how did she survive? A really great potential scene was wasted by the writers not having Oliver searching for and finding the love of his life safe and in need of a hug. She was last seen running for cover; then after five months of hiatus, she reappeared at the Bunker with food orders from Big Belly Burger for the guys. There was a brief scene with her and Oliver alone in the Bunker, with UST hovering over them like an image of the salmon ladder calling out to them. Instead, they danced around each other and gave us an ever briefer talk about William, how they had agreed to stay apart in order for the boy to adjust to his new life. “Not tonight, another night,” Felicity promised Oliver. Had that been going on for five months? Were cold showers to be the norm for them in the unforeseeable future?
It was not to be, and plot took the lead over character for the bulk of the season. As a result, the stories were paper thin and patience thin.
To be fair, not all the episodes were terrible. There were a handful that had glimmers of promise. 603 and Olicity finally coming back together with one big kiss was pretty okay. 604 is a front-runner for me, coming in as a favorite episode. It was a rare example of character over plot, which is why it worked so well. Having Oliver and Felicity switch places, (due to another plot driven story line of Oliver giving up being the Green Arrow and passing the torch on to John) with Felicity out in the field and Oliver taking up the Overwatch mantle---it was inspired writing. Yet, having John in the Green Arrow suit and leading the charge, as well as turning him into a drug addict; it was so out of tune, sending the fandom into a tail-spin. And the Newbies? Didn’t they get blown up?
So after 604, we got some filler episodes, giving the writers more time to strengthen their plots. Slade Wilson and his mission to save his son, and dragging Oliver along with him was not a good idea, story wise. I always liked Slade Wilson’s character; the good and the bad. But the writers missed another chance to send him out with a good and final story.
We got a very brief look at Oliver getting arrested in 607, on Thanksgiving no less. It would come back to haunt everybody in 623.
The Crossover. Nazi’s. Doppelgangers. Evil Oliver as the Fuhrer. Supergirl as Eva Braun. Felicity as a victimized Jew. Quentin as the Gestapo.  The WestAllen wedding ceremony and the destruction it suffered. Whoever paid for the event probably felt the economic hurt more than the invasion. It would have been more believable than the racist crap MG and AK came up with.
Then at the end, it was a shout-out to Oliver telling Barry guys like them don’t get the girl. They were married to their loves, side by side in an impromptu ceremony. Okay, because I am an Olicity shipper, it was good to see them happy and all in with their love for one another. No rings, no wedding apparel and no vows. Just a beautiful fall day by a lake. It worked for some and was a travesty for others.
Olicity’s reception in 609 took some of the sting away from their unconceivable double wedding. We got a lot of pretty, (Oliver and Felicity dressing up) an ill-advised toast from Rene, (Rene, really? If I were John, I would have been pissed by that demotion) music and dancing, cake-cutting and bouquet-throwing---and god help us; the Hoffman’s.
So 610, to the end of the season, was nothing short of the worst writing to ever find its way onto the show. It was a flight of fancy and preference for Marc and Wendy. The whole civil war thing between OTA and NTA---how could they think that would be entertaining? And killing off Cayden James, who had the potential of being a good villain and replacing him with Ricardo Diaz---it was the writers shooting themselves in the foot and the fans in the back. Rene shooting at Felicity and taking an axe to Oliver, Curtis intentionally hurting John to get intel and Dinah just generally pissed at everyone---it was all a swirling, nauseating mess of WTF.
Then John and Oliver throwing each other around the Bunker like kids in a schoolyard? John brings out some pent-up resentments and disapprovals over Oliver’s leadership abilities. Really? It was just more piling on on Oliver to keep the plot going. Oliver is now a husband and a father, and maybe even a role model. He has earned all that makes his life full, through blood, sweat and tears. He has virtually erased the angry, violent juggernaut we all met in Season 1. He doesn’t deserve to be blamed for everyone else’s short-comings and issues. It was just backwards writing all around.
Diaz. One big yawn. A non-threatening blow-hard who’s only real menace was being a big whiner and killing you with annoyance. I’m still shaking my head that he is coming back for Season 7.
About Season 7. Marc, Wendy and a large part of their toxic writing staff are gone. A new showrunner (Beth) is in place, along with a new, mostly female writer’s room. Do we get more character and less plot? Can they do enough damage control to salvage the mess they inherited? I hope so. Will Diaz meet an early demise; say in the first act of 701? Will Oliver be released from prison by some lawyerly trickery? Will the Newbies get blown up? Okay, I didn’t want to push things too far.
Thea and Lance are gone (insert tears here.) But Roy is coming back, and there are rumors of an Olicity baby. The Big Bad? Well, a litter of kittens would be scarier than Dias. And cuter too.
Five months. Damn. Maybe I will rewatch Season 6, you know, to pass the time.
Just kidding. I’m not into self-torture.  
@it-was-a-red-heeler @memcjo @almondblossomme @hope-for-olicity @wordslovedreams @olicityinmyheart @olicityotp-always @swordandarrow @cruzrogue @ruwithmeguys @gabriellamarie97 @bandanab310 @dmichellewrites @wanhani @1106angel
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maychorian · 6 years
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Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #62
A bit of life news: I am moving to a new position at my workplace working for a team that is currently very backed up, so my free time at work that I usually use to read fanfiction is about to disappear for the foreseeable future. It’s a good career move for me, and once things calm down I might have even more time and even be able to work from home. But in the meantime, yeah, I dunno how much fanfiction I’ll be reading. Whatever I do read will definitely get put in a list, though, haha.
Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!
Passing Grade by IcyPanther Words: 6,998 Author’s Summary: If Lance stayed in the shower long enough maybe the water would wash everything away. Maybe it would make him forget unwanted hands and the scratchy couch. Maybe… A sob tore through his throat. No. There was no forgetting. But he did have to paste on a smile and try to because no one could find out. Otherwise it was all over. AU - College My Comments: Mind the tags. There was a time when I sought out fics with this exact scenario because it fed something very needy inside me. It still hits all of those buttons super hard, and I really enjoyed reading this sort of story again, featuring my favorite character, written by an author I trust. I’ve already re-read it a couple of times, and I’ll be returning to it again, I’m sure.
The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther Words: 9,598 Author’s Summary: “The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire,” the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. “And as such you have no use except as arena fodder.” He chuckled. “Give us a good show before you die.” / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it’s not quite that literal of a promise. My Comments: Superb fic, possibly the best I’ve read from this author yet. The action is great and the plot is tight and suspenseful. Wonderful platonic Pidge and Lance, both getting beat up, both badass and protective of each other. This kept me at the edge of my seat.
All That Glitters Isn’t Gold by IcyPanther for wingedflower Words: 9,998 Author’s Summary: It started with Allura wanting something shiny for an upcoming gala. She, Pidge and Lance venture to a marketplace to find just the thing in a billed afternoon of relaxation and fun. But what they ended up finding was not jewelry at all. / “Welcome to Tyrol’s slave trade, Tyrol at your service. Or, well,” a dark grin lit the trader’s face. “I suppose you are at mine.” My Comments: Mind the tags. I really enjoyed this fic, though it went to some dark places for a little bit. Always fun to see Lance bonding with his teammates. And also getting hurt and then comforted.
And Molasses by Lemon_Lemmings Words: 4,008 Author’s Summary: “That’s not enough.” Hunk motions to the cookie mountains. “I need to make more.” “How many more? I can bake.” Hunk gives her a skeptical look.Pidge crosses her arms. “My cookies might not turn out as perfect as yours, boo hoo. At least they won’t be contaminated with the plague.” My Comments: Excellent sickfic with wonderful characterization for Hunk, right on the money. Pidge stepped up to the plate and took it like a pro. I could definitely see this happening, no question.
Atlas Cannot Stand by AnaliseGrey Words: 3,609 Author’s Summary: He and Lance had taken Red in to infiltrate a low-traffic Galra base- or at least, it was supposed to be low-traffic; it was just their luck they’d try to hit it when some dignitary was visiting. They’d made a good show of it all things considered, but in the end they were outnumbered and overrun. Lance had been up high, covering him from a catwalk, but was surprised by sentries coming at him from both sides of the walkway; there hadn’t been anywhere for him to go, and they were on him too fast to use his jetpack. Once they had Lance, Keith had surrendered quickly, not wanting to get Lance hurt. He could still feel Red growling quietly in the back of his mind, trapped in the hangar he’d left her in when they arrived. So far, her particle barrier was holding, but she wasn’t leaving until he was, and he wasn’t leaving without Lance. My Comments: The torture is pretty brutal in this one, but I loved the bond between Keith and Lance and how desperately they wanted to help each other.
May They Rest at Ease by ambivalentlangst Words: 2,539 Author’s Summary: Soldiers are created to say “vrepit sa” and die in a blaze of glory for their empire. They are not created to babysit kids, but some don’t mind, because someone has to keep the cubs safe. The universe they defend certainly doesn’t. My Comments: Season 5 spoilers. I adore this. So much. The two soldiers who palled around with Pidge, Hunk, and Lance essentially adopt them as their cubs, because those are three are far too young and don’t deserve to suffer. This fic makes my heart sing. It’s so sweet and lovely, despite the savagery of war.
Everywhere Cats by Engineer104 Words: 7,363 Author’s Summary: A mysterious mishap transforms the Lions of Voltron into…cats, who are more troublesome for their Paladins than for Zarkon’s Empire My Comments: Super fun and cute! I will continue to mourn the relative dearth of animal transformation crack in this fandom until I am satisfied, but this was a good fix, though nowhere near enough. So cute, sooooo fluffy.
I Once Loved the Stars so Truly, but I Have Learned to Fear the Night by Spazzcat Words: 5,638 Author’s Summary: Samuel Holt has loved the stars his entire life, despite where he ended up because of it. Ironically it’s not until after his rescue that he starts to hate their gentle gleam in the darkness, a cruel reminder of everything he’s lost. My Comments: Lovely alternate version of Sam finding his family. It hurt, but the ending made up for it, and the language along the way was gorgeous and vivid. Great OCs, too.
In the Dust under the Stars by cleanlittlesecret Words: 5,521 Author’s Summary: The woman entering his office must be close to seven feet tall if not taller, has long and pointed ears, and is entirely purple. She has to duck to avoid hitting her face on the doorframe, and Iverson is so busy staring at her with his mouth open that he barely hears Mick say something before shutting the door behind her. What in the Sam Hill is this? (Or, AU where Krolia stayed on Earth to raise Keith, and most people are not as bothered by her as they probably should be. Plus some other changes.) My Comments: Season 5 spoilers. Lovely canon divergence AU with a great Krolia and a cute though impulsive Keith. The details really made this story come alive; it’s very well-written and enjoyable to read.
Poison by IcyPanther Words: 2,876 Author’s Summary: Lance is fine. Or, at least he keeps telling himself that. He’s most definitely not a victim of the unknown disease with no cure sweeping through the city. Nope. But now he’s coughing up blood? Maybe… maybe he isn’t so fine after all. / “H-Hunk,” he whispered. “I… I think I’m s-sick.” Hunk let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Yeah, Lance. You are.“ My Comments: What a great Lance-centric sickfic with super good comfort and a tense plot. I’ll never tire of these kinds of fics.
The Grim Particulars by yet_intrepid Words: 5,575 Author’s Summary: “Can’t believe Kolivan trusted these guys,” Keith mutters. He shifts awkwardly in the tight space, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his arms, which are cuffed behind his back. “I always knew they were sketchy.” “They’re illegal weapons dealers,” Shiro replies. “Of course they’re sketchy.” Keith grunts, half-angry and half-amused, and gives up readjusting his position. It’s just as well, really, Shiro thinks. They’re in a tiny closet on a tiny ship, and there’s barely room for them to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee. My Comments: Beware the tags. This is a grim story, as the title implies, not for the faint of heart. But good, as everything from this author. It catches you in the gut. Gave me some deep thoughts, too.
Thicker than Water by Fernandidilly_yo Words: 4,574 Author’s Summary: (Set right after season 5 episode 5)“How long?” Keith asks, taking another step into Kolivan’s office, his legs feel unstable underneath him, his body disconnected and flimsy. “How long have you known Krolia is my mother?” My Comments: Season 5 spoilers. I really like nuances of this story. Keith’s reactions and emotions all feel very realistic and true to his character, and I liked Kolivan in this too. Great stuff.
Bits by Lemon_Lemmings Words: 3,107 Author’s Summary: Violence is an acquired taste that Hunk inevitably accommodates. My Comments: Angsty and harsh and a little grim, but I absolutely believe that Hunk is like this. War is hard, and it’s not fair.
dear child of mine by glitteringconstellations Words: 2,365 Author’s Summary: Krolia went to Earth in search of a Lion, and found a family, instead. She learned what it meant to love and be loved, and she learned that sometimes, loving someone means letting them go.Or,Krolia cradles Keith in her arms for the last time. My Comments: Season 5 spoilers. Sweet and sad and lovely. I love this vision of Keith’s mother and father before the war. Or during the war, but in a peaceful interlude.
Mama is… by nigiyakapepper Words: 4,134 Author’s Summary: “A spy!” “Spy!” “Up in space!” “ ’pin space!” Keith is two. It’s one of his good days, judging by the boy shrieking with joy for no other reason than the enjoyment of the act. K - - - - -, his dad, moves as if to chase him around the sofa in their living room. Little Keith moves in turn, a ‘patta patta’ of tiny feet stomping on linoleum. He giggles while clutching his shirt—then full on screams and toddles away when his dad lunges after him. - - Who Keith’s mom is as Keith grows up. My Comments: Season 5 spoilers. Lovely snapshots of Keith throughout the years, missing his mother. I’m so glad he had such a good father, but then it hurt to lose him, too.
In Darkness We Shall Fight by Haleykim84 (tristen84) for BlackFriar Words: 6,795 Author’s Summary: Shiro and Keith are on a stealth mission that goes wrong. With no back-up and Keith injured, they struggle to get out alive. My Comments: A rollercoaster of a fic, fantastic action and wonderful teamwork and protectiveness between Keith and Shiro. It felt sort of classic, in a way, the OG duo back at it again. Fun and exciting read.
Of Crossing Swords and Crossing Lines by wingedflower for IcyPanther Words: 8,144 Author’s Summary: Written as part of a fic exchange with IcyPanther, following the prompt “shopping trip went wrong”. For the first time in his life, Keith sees something at the space mall that he actually wants. He’s willing to do everything to get it - especially if it involves ignoring Lance, who tries to talk him out of it. Things end up as well as expected. My Comments: A great, fun read with some interpersonal conflict and Lance getting hurt. Always a great combination for fic.
Previously Recced Fics That Updated:
Beacon (43262 words) Shadows of Stars (182291 words) A Dragon in Thy Pocket (10018 words) As Color Fades Away (293755 words) Weekend Guests (16351 words) I'm not the Lance You think I am (79775 words) Back from the Edge (10869 words)
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I’ll Take Her Place (Chapter 4)
Summary:  AU. When Allura breaks the news that she is to wed Prince Lotor in order to continue the peaceful relationship between Altea and Daibazaal, Pidge knows that she has to do something to change that. And so, with a little help, she comes up with a new plan. A better plan
Pairings: Keith/Pidge (main) ; Shiro/Allura (minor), Hunk/Lance (minor) ; Lotor/Allura (one-sided)
Chapter 1 - Next - Masterpost
Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net
I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for all of the wonderful comments and feedback you've left so far! It really is the highlight of my day when I pop online to find new notifications waiting for me and it's what keeps me pushing to update more regularly. 
So here's chapter 4, a little longer than the others so far. I hope you all enjoy it!
Chapter 4
Pidge slowly woke to something with a pointed edge nudging her in the ribs. There was the sound of whirring machinery and she could hear Hunk make a questioning sound before yelping in alarm.
“What did you build last night?” Lance asked, sounding as though he was trying not to laugh.
Hunk shrieked. “Bad robot! Down!”
Pidge sat up in time to witness Hunk running to the other side of one of the Green Lion's massive paws, where he ducked down to try and hide from the flying sentry drone which was giving chase. She watched for a moment, rational thought clawing its way back through a sleepy haze. “Huh. Might be a few more bugs to work out than I thought... C'mere, Rover!”
The drone made a questioning beep before soaring back to Pidge's side. It went still when she pressed a switch hidden on one side.
“Rover, huh? Making yourself a guard dog so Hunk stops touching your stuff?” Lance asked.
“He's going to keep you from taking my stuff too, so I wouldn't start laughing yet,” Pidge informed him.
Lance sulked for a few seconds as Hunk cautiously approached them, clearly watching out for any more drones that may spring out and attack him.
“You're an evil genius, Pidge,” Hunk informed her.
She grinned in response. “I know. So what brings you two down to my lair this morning?”
Hunk and Lance exchanged a glance, each trying to wordlessly convince the other to talk to her.
Lance lost. “First of all, it's after lunch and no one has seen you since yesterday. Shiro was worried.”
“We were all worried,” Hunk interjected.
“Yeah, yeah, we're all worried. Also, your fiance sent a request that you have dinner with him tonight. So there's that too,” Lance said with a bit of a malcontent grumble.
Pidge scowled and dropped her gaze.
Hunk noticed. Of course he did. He was far too tuned in to the feelings of his friends sometimes. “You have to get to know him at some point,” he said logically. “Wouldn't it be better to start now?”
“It's only been a day! Barely a day!” Pidge leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, already beginning to feel overwhelmed. Was it too much to ask that she have a single interaction with other people without anyone mentioning her impending nuptials? “I need at least a deca-phoeb before I'm ready.”
“Empress Honerva talked them up to six months from two, so at least you have a while,” Lance said, trying to be helpful.
Hunk nodded. “It was incredible! I thought Emperor Zarkon would have to step in and order the council members to increase the time for her, but she handled it all on her own! And it wasn't in that kind of scary way like Allura does, she just won them over with facts and clear reasoning.”
“Some highlights: proper courtship before any marriage is a minimum of three months, no matter the circumstances,” Lance said, holding up his fingers to tick them off, one-by-one. “We're not at war with each other, so demanding the two of you to be married immediately is ridiculous; planning a royal wedding will take a minimum of five months, and that's rushing it; oh, and who could forget my favorite, the dress!”
“Please tell me I at least have a say in what I'll be wearing,” Pidge pleaded.
Lance nodded. “Oh, you do. And that's why the planning portion takes so long. It's tradition for the bride to design her own gown.”
Pidge looked a little pale.
“Luckily, you have Lance to help you,” Hunk said, sounding amused. “Three married sisters and two sisters-in-law means he's a pro at weddings, especially dresses.”
“Babe, you forgot my cousins. And my Aunt who has married five times since I was four,” Lance reminded him.
“Oh, yeah... How could I ever forget Aunt Constantine? She was always my favorite... Do you think she's on husband number six yet?”
“I hope not. I really liked Reggie. He was nice.”
Pidge shoved her worries aside, burying them deep down in favor of focusing on her friends. It was so easy to lose herself in Lance's stories as he began to weave colorful tales of his eccentric and large family and his many experiences helping his relatives plan their weddings. With the two of them by her side, she pulled herself up off the floor and walked to the kitchen to get some food before going to face Shiro.
“How are you doing?”
Pidge looked up at Shiro as she began her pre-training stretches, easing her body into physical activity after a night of sitting on the cold, hard floor. She shrugged before bending down, folding herself in half at the waist to touch her toes. “I'm okay.”
Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. “Pidge, you spent twenty hours hiding in Green's hangar. That's not-!”
“Sounds normal to me,” Pidge interrupted. “Working on stuff helps me cope. Seriously, I'm fine. I got some work done and it gave me time to think. I'm okay.”
Shiro frowned at her, struggling to find the right words to say for the unusual situation they were in. Normally, the best route with Pidge was blunt honesty – no careful prodding into her feelings, no treating her as though she was made of glass – but something about her body language was screaming at him that wasn't time to talk at all.
She wasn't ready.
He backed off, at least for the moment. “We're just running simple drills today. Allura and I have a meeting with the Coalition Leaders in three vargas, so there's no time for more than that. And you have a dinner to prepare for.”
The only sign that Pidge had heard him was in her slight loss of balance as she continued her warm-up. She quickly righted herself as she lifted her left leg off the ground, stretching it out behind her.
“Queen Alanna has offered her assistance if you have any questions,” Shiro said. He hesitated a few seconds before adding: “We're all here for you, Pidge.”
Shiro could tell the exact moment she closed herself off, thoroughly done with their conversation. He'd stepped over that invisible line in the sand, knowing how she would likely react, but it was something he felt needed to be said or else he'd spend days regretting it.
He stepped away to give her some space and joined Hunk and Lance on their jog around the perimeter of the training deck.
“Okay, I haven't seen Pidge look that annoyed since that time you accidentally bumped her into a bowl of Trufalian meringue and started a whole chain reaction of everything on the banquet table crashing to the ground,” Lance said. “Which, granted, wasn't really your fault, but that isn't the case this time. So what did you say?”
“Just that we're all here for her,” Shiro explained. “It was poor timing on my part.”
Hunk looked stricken. “It wasn't something we did, is it? She was laughing with us earlier, so I thought everything was okay. But what if it was something we said? Maybe she was laughing just so we wouldn't worry. What if-?”
“I don't think it was anything you did or said,” Shiro cut in gently, stopping the Yellow Paladin before he could get himself worked up into a panic.”If we think this is hard for us to accept, think of how it is for Pidge. She's the one this is all happening to. Sometimes it will be easy and sometimes she won't want to talk about it at all. Right now is the latter.”
“Man, this is so messed up,” Lance grumbled.
Yeah, Shiro privately agreed. That was one way of putting it.
Pidge was a wreck of tangled emotions.
Training had helped work out some of her frustration, but it wasn't enough. Perhaps if it had been one of their monthly marathon sessions, which always left her swimming in sweat and so exhausted that she could barely lift her arms, it would have helped. At least then it would have been acceptable for her to shower and then crawl into bed and sleep for twelve hours. Instead, she had to shower and get ready for dinner with Prince Keithir.
What were the rules for something like that? What was she supposed to wear? How was she supposed to act? She wasn't even sure how a normal date back on Earth was supposed to go (having never been on one). She knew she could ask Hunk or even Lance, but at the same time she wasn't sure how any of their advice would help.
Logically, her favorite sweatpants were out. And her sweatshirts. Really, any form of casual and comfortable wasn't appropriate for dinner with her fiance.
Pidge groaned and flopped face-first onto her bed, letting herself wallow in confused misery for a few long minutes. She knew they were on a tight schedule, but was it necessary for them to immediately begin the 'getting to know you' portion of their courtship? She'd much rather spend the next few days (weeks) tinkering with Rover and writing new programs to try and locate her family. She just needed time for it to fully sink in.
“You chose this,” she bitterly reminded herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, refusing to let a single tear fall. “I chose this. Allura would be preparing to marry Lotor right now if I hadn't, and that's infinitely worse. I can do this.”
She didn't often resort to talking to herself, but it was surprisingly helpful. Pidge was not okay (sorry, Shiro), but she could handle it. She got out of bed and walked over to her closet, which housed what little clothing she'd picked over three years. Her original sweatshirt and shorts were still there, though it had been over a year since she last wore them. Despite what Lance said, she had grown a few inches since leaving Earth and her clothes no longer fit as well as before. There was the Altean dress Allura had gifted her on her seventeenth birthday and the robes given to her by Ryner after her brief stay on Olkarion, learning everything she could about their incredible technology. She had two pairs of sweatpants and jeans, as well as several plain shirts and sweatshirts, but those were just for everyday use.
Never before had Pidge found herself at odds with the lack of nice clothing she owned. Whenever there was a formal situation that required their attendance, she and the other paladins would wear their armor. There had never been a need for anything else.
She wondered if Prince Keithir would be insulted if she wore the Altean dress.
Someone knocked on her door just as she was reaching out to pull it down. Clad only in her green lion robe and matching slippers, she shuffled over and prodded the button to open the door. Lance stood there with a box in his hands, looking unusually unsure.
“I got you this,” he said, holding out the box for her to take. “I saw it at the Space Mall the last time Hunk and I made a run there for those fruits he likes. I was saving it for the next vacation Shiro and Allura let us have, but I thought you could use it more now. You might find the familiarity comforting, at least.”
Curiosity piqued, Pidge removed the lid and then froze, staring open-mouthed at the fabric waiting inside. She slowly pulled it out of the box, marveling over how soft it was.
It was like someone had taken her original sweatshirt and turned it into a stylish dress. The sleeves and down each side were the exact same shade of green, with white filling in the space between. A hint of lace peeked out from under the skirt. Her only wish was that it had the same high collar rather than a simple crew neck, but it was only a minor wish.
“It's perfect,” she whispered, finding it hard to get the words out. She knocked the box away as she threw her arms around Lance's middle. “Thank you so much!”
Lance hugged her back tightly. “That's what friends are for.”
Dinner was a quiet affair between them, which wasn't unexpected. Keither was hardly an expert at basic communication and his future wife didn't seem to be much better. Ten minutes in and he was already convinced that inviting her to have dinner with him so soon had been a Very Bad Idea. Except that it had been his mother's request and denying Empress Honerva was an Even Worse Idea, so there they were.
Sitting.
Alone.
Not speaking.
Keithir glanced up and cleared his throat, wracking his brain for anything to say. “So, uh...?”
“Yes?”
His thoughts abruptly derailed at her simple question. “Um... enjoying the food?”
Big amber eyes stared at him for a moment before lowering back to her plate. “It's good. Are you, uh, enjoying it too?”
Keithir absently wondered if it was alright to be glad she was struggling just as much as he was.  “Yeah, it's good.”
The silence resumed, stretching on and slowly consuming them. Any attempt from either of them was too weak to combat it.
It was the most awkward ordeal he had ever gone through, and that included his physician's four-hour long lecture on puberty and reproduction when he was younger.
Even worse, once the food had been cleared, their evening still wasn't over.
Keithir stood and moved around to help her out of her chair before offering her his arm. She stared up at him in confusion. “Can I walk you back to your room?”
“Oh,” she uttered softly. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She took his arm with no trouble and they began to walk through the castle together.
Normally, Keithir was content with the quiet. Most days he preferred it. Constant, never ending chatter, especially when it was small-talk, was one of his least favorite things. But he could feel the awkwardness between them, hanging thick in the air, and made worse by the fact that neither of them knew what to do or say to make it a little more bearable.
He found himself staring at her, only partly paying attention to where he was walking. His eyes were drawn to the shade of green she wore, and then to the dress itself. It was a simple thing, designed with comfort in mind rather than extravagance. It was...
“Cute.”
“Huh?” Pidge looked up, eyes wide as they met his own.
Keithir felt his face heat up. “Your dress. It's cute... Green looks good on you.”
She looked away, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Thank you.”
There was a brief moment where Keithir thought that was the end of it and that they were doomed to never break through the thick wall between them, but then Pidge sucked in a break and weakly grinned up at him. “Good thing I'm the Green Paladin, right?”
Keithir found himself smiling back. “You're right. Imagine if you were Blue instead.”
Pidge's laughter shattered what remained of the awkward atmosphere. “I'd rather not. Besides, that would mean Lance would be Green and I don't think he could pull it off. You, though...”
Keithir crinkled his nose. “Me? In Green? Not really my color.”
“Oh?” Pidge asked with a strange tone to her voice. “So then what is your color? Black?”
(Some part of him realized she was actually teasing him. It was nice.)
“Red.”
Pidge's smile dropped, taking the warmth forming between them with it, and she looked away. “Yeah. You'd look good in red...” She pulled away from him as they approached her room. “Thanks for walking me back, Your Highness.”
“Keithir. Just... just Keithir,” he told her as she punched in her code and the door slid open. She turned to bid him goodnight before going inside, leaving him to wonder how he'd managed to sever the fragile connection they'd made in a split second.
He stood there for a moment, lost and confused, and then slowly turned away as a bitterness swelled in his chest. “Goodnight, Lady Katherine,” he said to her closed door.
NEXT
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starryeyed-char · 7 years
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On Camera
Or that one time Lance decided to live-stream when he really should’ve been resting. The (established) klance YouTuber AU that no one asked for, but you’re all getting. Domestic klance sharing an apartment is my jam, and throwing a little angst in there is a bonus.
I’m actually really happy with this, and if people like it I might do an actual long AU thing with this setting, so feedback is appreciated! For now though, just a one-shot. This is also proof that the best writing for me happens at 3 AM… oops. I hope you enjoy!!
Psst @taylor-tut this is that thing I not-so-discreetly mentioned in my tags, have a wonderful day.
Lance McClain was a rulebreaker in every way, except for one thing. He believed it was always necessary to have a routine, and never stray from it. If asked, he’d inform you that a steady routine was the foundation for a steady life.
Showering every morning, brushing his teeth every night, thinking of a cheesy one-liner for Keith each day without fail, the list went on. Little things.
One of his many routines was to live-stream, always on Sundays. Because who did anything besides sit at home, definitely not with a hangover, on Sunday?
New videos went up on Wednesdays, but the carefully edited ones on YouTube and his live-streams were very different. Many fans even preferred seeing him live, mainly because he couldn’t stop himself from making bad jokes, and was usually too lazy to straighten his bedhead.
And they would always ask him to go bother Keith in the next room, which Lance more often than not was obliged to do.
So when he woke up late one Sunday with a killer headache and a stuffy nose, Lance wasn’t about to let it get in the way of his routine.
He discovered a note from Keith on the kitchen table that said he’d be out running errands, and Lance lamented that he hadn’t been awake to tell Keith to get soup. After shooting him a quick text, the only response Lance got was “You don’t even like soup.”
Lance chuckled softly, which quickly led to a series of wet coughs. Clearing his throat, he began to set up his camera, wrapped himself up in blankets, and started the stream.
“Hey guys,” he said with a small wave, and winced at how raspy his voice sounded. He sniffled, and edged the off-screen box of tissues closer to him.
The chat was quickly flooded with “HELLO”’s and “LANCE!”’s. By now, all the fans knew when he went live. Lance was, however, surprised to see several inquiries about his health.
There were quite a few “Are you okay”’s, and even some “You seem sick”’s, with one of Lance’s personal favorites being “You look like shit.”
He read off the last comment with a short laugh. “Thanks, KeiththeKutie05.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Nice name.”
After a short pause of him continuing to scan the chat, he spoke again. “I’m fine though, just got a cold or something. Nothing could stop me from live-streaming!”
As the viewers seemed satisfied with this response, Lance wasn’t surprised to see the usual repetition of “Where’s Keith?” in the chat. He sighed.
“Mullet Boy is running errands,” Lance told them, rolling his eyes for effect. “Probably going out to buy a new pair of fingerless gloves.”
Keith and Lance had been sharing an apartment for some time now, and the Internet was very invested in their relationship, or so it seemed. Keith was annoyed by the whole thing at first, but Lance found it entertaining that his fans seemed to like Keith better than him. Lance could, admittedly, relate.
Eventually, the accidental publicity that came with dating a YouTuber inspired Lance to make a collab channel for them, though Keith never got his own. He insisted that he was too awkward to film anything by himself, which Lance secretly found adorable.
Numerous people began telling Lance to prank Keith when he came back, to which Lance grinned. Playing tricks on Keith during live-streams had become somewhat of a tradition in and of itself. “Maybe I will,” Lance tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You guys got any ideas?”
Lance read through some of the responses but saw nothing particularly appealing, then perked up at someone asking when he’d do a video with Hunk again.
“Actually, I got some good news for you guys,” Lance declared, sneezing into his elbow before continuing. “Hunk and I are going to be playing videogames on Pidge’s channel sometime next week, and Hunk has both of us coming over to his and Shay’s for a baking video. I haven’t decided what we should do for my part yet. Maybe a Q & A?”
Once again, Lance’s eyes scanned through the suggestions until his eyes snagged on one he liked. “Cards Against Humanity, huh? With YouTube’s shitty new rules it could get demonetized, but I do love that game, so why not? I’m positive Pidge owns it, and I can tell them to bring it over. Maybe I can even convince Keith to play with us.”
Lance couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic response that got.
“I think I’m going to get myself some more coffee,” Lance decided, looking down at the empty mug resting on a coaster. “Last night Keith made me watch this really scary movie, so I naturally had trouble falling asleep. Gotta have coffee to keep myself functioning. Do you guys prefer coffee or tea? Keith and I are both coffee people, but he likes his black. No sugar or anything, disgusting if you ask me.”
Lance almost regretted this comment as a war of opinions on black coffee slowly took over his computer screen.
“Well, anyway, I’m gonna go to the kitchen real quick. I’d bring my laptop but… I’d probably spill coffee on it, and we can’t have that.”
Lance stood, and was about to start towards the next room when his vision abruptly blurred and refocused. He knew immediately something was wrong.
His legs felt like jelly, and the room seemed to spin as he took a single step forward. Had he only been fine when he was sitting? Lance had half the mind to sit right back down, but his brain was growing muddled, and direction simply didn’t make sense.
Lance’s migraine flared abruptly in intensity, and then suddenly the wood floor was rushing up to meet him. Everything went dark.
Keith glanced at his phone as he moved around to the back of the car, where he’d stored the groceries, and had to repress a fond smile at the Twitter notification on the screen. Lance was, apparently, live-streaming. Keith thought he might actually miss his time-slot for once, but he figured by now he should be used to the Cuban boy’s dedication to routine.
Lance’s channel got some negative feedback from more ‘sophisticated’ YouTubers for being… all over the place. A dedicated beauty guru, or PrinceLotor as his channel was called, had dragged Lance on Twitter on more than one occasion.
Lance was anything but consistent when it came to videos. He did whatever he felt like doing that week, and the fans loved it. Sometimes he played songs on his guitar, sometimes he did prank-calls. He would film Q&A’s, or tell stories about all the interesting stuff that happened in his life— Lance’s bad luck was rather famous. He recommended TV shows, did hauls of what he got for holidays, vlogged on occasion when he went to stores, you name it.
But Lance’s favorite thing to do were collabs.
Hunk, an incredibly smart engineer, had a baking channel as a hobby, and Lance was his favorite assistant.
Pidge was a newer gaming channel, but their obsession with theorizing about the game’s lore while playing and busting other fan theories made them grow in popularity quickly. For two player games, Lance was ideal.
Allura was an extremely popular beauty channel, and Lance let her give him makeovers whenever she wanted to. Shiro could use extra actors in his short films.
And Keith… well, the two of them had a channel together that had no pattern whatsoever, much to Lance’s dislike. Absolutely spontaneous and random, usually doing things by popular fan request, like dancing or karaoke. And uploads were by no means regular.
Keith was surprised at how much he had started to enjoy it. Lance had been telling him he should start an art channel, with animations and speedpaints and the like, and Keith wasn’t… that opposed to the idea. It could be a useful source of income, to help with all the debt he would come into after graduating college. But he’d never tell Lance.
Without thinking too much of it, Keith swiped right across his screen, taking him to Lance’s tweet about the live-stream in order to like it. He was about to close his phone again and begin taking groceries up to their apartment when his eyes snagged on something odd.
Lots of the replies to Lance’s tweet mentioned him, particularly the recent ones, even tagging him in it. Keith couldn’t fathom why they would be talking about him if he wasn’t on the stream, unless Lance was complaining about him live again.
Keith bristled. Lance better not be still annoyed at him for the movie the last night. Signs wasn’t scary at all, and not even a real horror movie! Lance simply stated that 'he didn’t mess with aliens.’
But when he looked at all the mentions, Keith felt his irritation give way to confusion, and then panic.
“KEITH GET TO UR APARTMENT”, “YOU BETTER GO CHECK ON LANCE”, “HOLY SHIT HES COLLAPSED KEITH HURRY YA ASS UP”, and the one that really sent Keith reeling “UH GUYS IS IT JUST ME OR DID WE WITNESS LANCE’S DEATH ON CAMERA?”
Keith slammed the trunk, all groceries forgotten as he sprinted into the apartment building and ran for the stairs. They only lived on the third floor, and he was not about to wait for the slow, crowded elevator.
He fumbled to fit his key in the lock and opened the door to the living room, only to spot the live-streaming set up, with no Lance. Keith rushed forward, but drew up short when he realized that Lance was in fact passed out on the floor in front of the couch.
“Oh my god— Lance!” Keith sank down beside him, turning his boyfriend over. “Lance, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
Lance’s eyes opened slowly, and Keith felt relief flood his system, despite the uncharacteristically pale skin. “K-Keith? Wha… I thought you were shopping?”
“I’m back,” Keith answered shortly, wincing as he pressed a hand onto Lance’s forehead. “Jeez, you’re on fire. Why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?!”
“Are you a fire?” Lance mumbled under his breath, and Keith furrowed his brows in confusion.
“What? No, Lance, I was saying you have a fever.”
“Because you’re hot and I want s'more,” Lance continued, as if he hadn’t heard him at all. Keith was suddenly painfully aware that the live-stream was still going, and that his face was even more flushed than Lance’s, and not because of a fever.
Keith glanced at the computer sitting on the coffee table briefly, noting that most of the chat was full of random keyboard smashing. He smiled apologetically. “At least he’s conscious,” he shrugged, hoisting Lance up off the floor and propping one of his arm’s around Keith’s shoulder. “I’m going to take this idiot to the hospital, he’s way too hot.”
“So you finally admitted it,” Lance’s voice was barely audible, and Keith glanced back down to see him grinning up at Keith tiredly.
“I meant your temperature, dumbass. Next time, tell me when you’re not feeling well.”
And with that, he shut off the stream.
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prinzcake · 7 years
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Lance’s Blues
Short fic under the cut.
The command room was empty. The team had just finished discussing the battle they had just finished over Kkotaka, a planet home to a 4-armed alien race. Everyone had either gone to have refreshments (Hunk) or rest in their room individually.
“..nce.”
He stared at the helmet in his hand. The faint scuff marks beneath his fingers had become more familiar to him recently then some things he had known all this life.
“Lance!”
Lance blinked and looked up. Keith stood in front of him, already cleaned up from the recent battle. Of course, Keith was always fast and efficient.
“What, Keith.” Lance knew he sounded irritable, but he didn’t really feel up to talking at the moment. Keith didn’t get annoyed like he expected, but looked at Lance closely.
“Aren’t you going to shower yet? It’s going to stink the longer you stay in it.”
Somehow, his tone sounded more concerned then antagonizing. Was Keith actually worried? Lance had to struggle a little not to let his face crumple.
“Yea, I’ll go soon.” Lance said as casually as he could, but he must have done it wrong, because Keith’s eyebrows shifted together slightly. The red pilot didn’t prod him any further, however; just nodded and left. Lance missed the backward glance that was thrown his way just before the doors closed.
He sighed. He didn’t know why he felt so down. Everything was going fine, the team was great, Shiro was still around, they had news of Matt being freed, they had a brand new pet cow, even Keith was less insufferable then usual.
He shook his head. He must be tired from the battle. That was it. He pushed all thoughts out of his head and headed to the shower.
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The water was cool, soothing. This was his favorite part of the ship, aside from his bed. He would nominate the pool to a higher position, if he could actually get into it. He should really ask Coran about it one day.
Lance spent a longer time then usual under the spray. He was reluctant to get out, but he eventually turned off the shower and dried off.
Lance frowned as he pulled on his clothes. His thoughts had been muted while he was in the shower, but now he could feel a slight storm of grey clouds gathering back in his head. On the way to the armory, he continued to mull over why he was feeling so blue. 
Well, I am the blue paladin, he joked to himself internally. He returned the suit to the pod and left the room.
A voice called to him as he walked out. “Lance!” 
Lance turned around, brightening. Was it -
“Oh, hey, Hunk!” Lance wasn’t sure who he had been hoping for but he was sure he should be pretty happy seeing his best friend, so he put on bright smile. “Finished cooking up new foods?” Hunk had probably made up 101 new recipes since coming to space.
The yellow paladin grinned at him. 
“Yes, actually! I just made some new cookies! Want to come and try it?”
Lance smiled. Hunk was awesome. He was hungry. He’d feel better once he ate. Following his friend to the kitchen, he found a literal mountain of honey colored biscuits with green bits.
The cookie was delicious, and he told Hunk so. 
“Seriously, this is great!” Lance exclaimed. It was crispy but the little bits of sweet candy melted in his mouth and reminded him of the cookies his mother baked. He would engage with his sisters in what they called the Food Wars - no snack was safe under any jurisdiction until it had already entered the person’s stomach. Lance learned that the hard way after he lost custody of a bacon roll halfway to his mouth.
He continued to nibble on his biscuit, thinking about how his little brother would make puppy eyes at him until he handed over the best parts of cakes. 
“...Kkotakan plants maybe. What do you think?” Hunk said.
“What?” Lance jerked back to reality. “Cookie plants?”
His friend paused. “No, I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as cookie plants. Or maybe there is. Boy, I’d love to have some around.”
Silence. 
“Lance? Are you okay?”
Lance looked at Hunk in surprise. He wasn’t acting any different, he would know - so why was his friend making a worried face at him?
“I’m good, buddy!” Lance laughed. “I’m just sleepy, are you sure your cookies don’t have any sleeping plants in there?” 
Hunk pulled a face of horror. “Seriously?! I don’t think so, but it could be...maybe there are some side effects that we don’t know of -”
“Hunk, I’m joking.”
“Ohh. Hah. Good one.”
After chatting awhile more, Lance helped Hunk bag up the rest of the cookies. He waved good night to Hunk and entered his room, the door sliding close with a soft hiss behind him. 
It was suddenly too quiet. 
The light had automatically flickered on the moment he came in, but somehow it just made the room look more colorless. Lance didn’t understand why he was  seeing it so differently. The room looked exactly the same as it always had, and he always went inside looking forward to a nice nap. 
Now it just looked alien. Different from his Earth home, messy and chaotic. He thought about his house. Nothing that was not permanently stuck to the floor would ever be in the same spot as the day before. New things ended up in his room all the time and he would have a panic attack if he needed to find something because it was likely there was a minimum 1 year searching date. 
And whenever he turned around, there was always someone there.
Lance felt a bout of restlessness overtake him. He blamed it on the cookies. He paced around the room once and sat on the bed, trying to feel sleepy. The silence seemed to be getting louder and his foot tapped impatiently, but where was there to go? The ship was way too haunted (he hadn’t forgotten) for a solo exploration and he didn’t want to disturb Hunk or Pidge; Hunk would be snoring by now and Pidge would probably be annoyed. He couldn’t possibly go to Shiro and what on earth would he say to Keith? 
He imagined any one of his team members walking in to talk to him right then  and the thought of it made him feel so hopeful that when he flicked his eyes towards the door and it stayed shut he felt like yelling.
Lance leapt up. He had to get out of here, anywhere but this damn room. 
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Lance blindly headed down the dark corridor, unconsciously taking longer and faster strides. He slowed down when he saw a faint light around the corner.
He had ended up at the shower, where the light was always on even when it was the designated “night-time”. A bout of near-hysteric laughter bubbled up in his throat when he thought of the fact they had to have a scheduled day-night sequence because there was no such thing as waking up to a bright sunny day or falling asleep to a fading sunset. No such thing as waking up and feeling lazy to a rainy morning and hearing it tap merrily against the window. There wasn’t even windows.
Lance was going crazy thinking about it.
He entered the cubicle before he was even aware of moving.
His hand darted to the switch and put the shower on full blast. He was still fully dressed and he could feel the water drenching his clothes and sticking to his skin, but he didn’t care. He sat down with his head on his knees, arms encircling so he could block out as much light as possible, and closed his eyes.
The steady stream of water drumming against his hair and clothes took over his senses and he paused his breathing to hear it unbroken as long as he could. He let out a long sigh, tension draining out of his body.
It felt so good.
If he concentrated, or lost focus hard enough, he could just imagine he was back at home, taking a shower with a babble of voices just behind the door. His brother would be pestering him to hurry up so he could go number two, and his mother would be loudly declaring to his sister that her cooking was just not en el punto.
Lance felt his mouth twist into a small smile.
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He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in that position, but he was just starting to feel blissfully peaceful when he felt the shower turn off and heard an indignant voice behind him. Oh, come on, he thought, just a few minutes more, couldn’t -
Wait.
That didn’t sound like his brother. 
“What are you doing? Get up!”
It all came back to him.
 Lance felt his heart drop. He’d just gone and done something stupid. A hand shook his shoulder impatiently. Lance shifted and winced as his limbs creaked. He got up stiffly, squinting as he tried to adjust to the bright light. He wobbled as he stood on the slippery floor, feeling light-headed. His arm reached out to the wall for support, but instead a pair of hands grabbed his shoulder and guided him around to face its owner. 
“Lance?” A pale face frowned at him quizzically, eyebrows knitted together.
It was Keith. Of all people, it had to be Keith discovering him doing something lame and dumb and weird. His head felt heavy and he couldn’t seem to talk, so he just stood there in a daze with his eyes cast down. Keith said something and put his palm on Lance’s face. It felt cooling in a good kind of way, so he leaned into it. Keith frowned ever more fiercely and said something, but he couldn’t really hear it. He just wanted to lie down. 
Come to think of it, the shower must have helped, because he felt so sleepy. He could definitely go to bed right now.
Keith seemed to be talking more intently to him now, but all he could think about was how nice the coolness on his cheek felt. Lance leaned more into Keith’s fingers and felt himself falling all the way into the darkness.
Note: This is actually incomplete, but I wasn’t sure if it was too boring ;;; If you’re interested, send an ask? ahhh....I hope I didn’t mess up the characterization too much
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Happy 4th of July, Johnny!
Fandom: Sing 2016
Pairing: Johnny x Ash (Jash)
Rated: T
Story Summary: Ash tries to teach her British boyfriend, Johnny, all about the joys of celebrating the American Independence Day.
Fanfiction.net
A03
Ash never planned many holiday celebrations.
Growing up, holidays with her parents (especially her mother) meant another day in painful shoes, tight dresses, disgusting hors d'oeuvres all taking place in much too opulent houses with far too many breakable items and being introduced to people she couldn't give two flying fucks about. Or after they divorced, forced to being a tether between her two parents; having two of everything but happy about none of it.
While living with Lance, it was just another excuse for him to get obnoxiously drunk and make bad decisions like inviting over his stupid friends to wreck her clean house…so basically, like every other day of his life.
After he cheated and she was now alone, Ash found didn't care much for the hubbub of activity holidays brought with it. Mostly because it was all topped off with her least favorite thing - crowds of annoying animals trampling around her small form - quills taut and ready to stab anyone who dared to get too close.
Yet, that was then, this was now.
Since her and Johnny started dating at the end of last summer, she wasn't completely against the idea of celebrating whatever holiday presented itself for their first year of being together. Whether it being a Halloween costume party, Christmas potluck with the theater gang, New Years Eve with a little too much champagne and sloppy midnight kisses, hell, even the normally dreaded Valentine's Day was a nice dinner and a playful snowball fight as they walked back to her apartment; Easter ending up to be a relaxing evening spent watching movies and eating chocolate - the day they got off just gave her another excuse to spend time with her handsome gorilla boyfriend.
This upcoming holiday was seemingly no different.
Summer heat pelting their small city, Ash was becoming well aware of the change of decorations hitting the stores and another holiday rearing its head. Lots of American flags adorning packaging and party supplies, overpriced fireworks, barbecuers, watermelons, and fresh corn on the cob all on display for purchase.
July 4th was quickly coming up and like any previous holiday this past year, she was excited to involve her and Johnny going out to enjoy it in some form or fashion…
…that was, until she remembered Johnny was British…
While very well aware he hadn't lived in Jolly ol' London since he was 12, it was still somewhere he considered home. Called himself a Brit and stubbornly retained his accent (as light as it was) even if he'd lived in America for almost half his life since. Ash found nothing wrong with that and found it quite adorable when she heard him occasionally humming 'God Save the Queen' in the shower but it did put a dent in her plans.
Would he want to celebrate this strictly American holiday with her?
Johnny had never turned down her plans whether it was dressing up for Halloween or coercing him for a long make-out session underneath the mistletoe (which was made easier with him consuming spiked eggnog) for Christmas, she was unsure if this tradition was one he wasn't keen on participating in.
Guess there was only one way to find out…
It was now the afternoon of July 4th and Ash still had yet to ask him or even bother to mention it - the porcupine was just so swamped with working on her new album, it kinda slipped her mind. Yet as the workday came to an end, she was determined to get it done ASAP. One thing was certain, there was a party tonight so Ash hadn't planned much in the way of food considering Buster was having a rooftop barbecue at the theater.
As she left the theater for the day, Ash called Buster.
During the phone call with her boss about what to bring for said party, he had asked her if Johnny was okay.
Ash stopped in her tracks; confused at the sudden questioning was then told Johnny had turned down the invitation and that only made Ash more resolute to get him to go. Once she hung up with Buster, Ash hit the market before catching the bus to Johnny's place.
A heavy cooler was hanging from her arm when she finally approached the back door of the garage which Johnny always left open regardless of how many times she told him to lock it.
Kinda glad for his lack of security at the moment, Ash pushed open the door.
The porcupine took in the atmosphere for a moment. The fact she visited so often made the smell of gasoline and motor oil barely noticeable to her now. As she scanned further in past the den, her eyes finally caught what, or rather whom, she was looking for.
There was Johnny - sitting at an old piano her and the theater gang pitched in to buy for his 21st birthday a few months ago. He sat on the bench playing and humming an unfamiliar tune but what more drew her attention was the fact he was only wearing a simple tank-top and exercise shorts. Johnny's lack of clothing, a fan aimed directly at him, mixed with the heat stifling in the garage - the piano bench must have been the only sanctuary to be found.
"Hey, Johnny!" Ash called out before closing the door.
The gorilla didn't seem at all surprised at her presence - only stood up to greet her. Happily, he walked over to her to help ease her of the cooler holding the tub of potato salad she'd just bought from the store.
"Good evening, Love." he finally replied once placing it on the counter; making sure to lean down to give her a proper kiss before continuing, "Why didn't you call first? I would've cleaned up a bit or at least pumped up the cooler." he chuckled once pulling away.
"Eh. Musta forgot." she replied, her neck and back already itching at the upraise of sweat (and not just because of the staunch heat of the garage). Damn, it was hot in here...in more ways than one. She appreciated a bit by gazing at her handsome, muscular boyfriend just a tad too long before Johnny spoke again and effectively breaking up those thoughts.
"It's alright. So, uh, what did you bring?" Johnny smiled, eyes averting to the cooler and being the curious soul he was, opened it and his brows furrowed at the container of potato salad sitting inside. "…You didn't bring that for dinner tonight, did you? Um…I didn't make anything or even have anything that would be good with that…"
Ash couldn't help but smack his firm tummy playfully, rolling her eyes before climbing atop one of the nearby stools.
"No, you dork. I was just heading over to Moon's for the party."
"Oh," Johnny said before plopping in the stool next to her. "His 4th of July party, right?"
"Yeah. Heh. Uh, funny that you'd mention it - um, Moon said he invited you but you told him that you were busy tonight." Ash explained and Johnny didn't even flinch; she expected him at least to be surprised that she had that information.
"I was jus' working on a new music set for the end of this month is all."
"Well, that's cool I guess." Ash muttered out, inwardly slapping herself for lack of conversing skills. They've been dating for nearly a year, dammit! She should be better at this by now - just get to the point... "…but uh - why didn't you want to go?"
"I dunno." he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
"Is it because it's an American holiday?"
Johnny just shrugged before replying, "The whole holiday exists is the culmination of your war with Great Britain; seems rather strange for a born-Brit to be celebrating that…Well, that's what my dad used to say when I asked him why we never did."
"...Really?" she seemed shocked, "Oops. Must have fallen asleep that day in history class."Ash chuckled mirthlessly, feeling a bit awkward, she continued, "So, uh…What is it? Do you feel like your betraying your countrymen or something?"
Johnny chuckled outright at that statement, "No. It was over 200 years ago. I highly doubt anyone can hold a grudge that long - I just thought it was funny my dad would tell me that as an excuse for not celebrating it."
"You used to ask your dad that?"
"Yeah. At first, I asked him every holiday why he didn't want to celebrate it - not just July 4th either. My friends from school would be having celebrations and I noticed we never did anymore, so I asked. My dad brushed it off; always gave some excuse. After awhile…I just stopped asking. Truthfully, I never celebrated much of any holiday 'til I started dating ya."
"...Why not?" she couldn't help but ask.
"It was ever since my mum passed - the holidays were rather…difficult." Johnny's eyes averted to the floor beneath his feet, his shoulders deflating as he continued to tell the story.
"Mum was always the more festive one - always making holidays special… Me and my dad just never did much in terms of celebratin' much of anything since she died. Even back in London - we tried celebrating Christmas just months after she passed and…" Johnny froze for bit - Ash saw uncertainty flashing in those sad chestnut eyes as if he wanted to elaborate but decided against it, "Well…we just kinda stopped after that. No other reason really."
The sadness that clouded his eyes killed her. Heart palpitating painfully in her chest as she saw the utter agony plaguing his normally bright features. Pain that didn't belong to someone so positive and sweet, someone she loved dearly.
She shouldn't have…
"...Oh Johnny, I'm so sorry," she whispered out - suddenly feeling incredibly awful at bringing him to those former functions this past year. How he must have been suffering internally while she was so naive to the pain she was inadvertently causing him.
"Wait…All those times I drug you to parties and outings and you just went along, and-and… Aw dammit, I should have-"
"Don't worry about that!" he quickly interrupted her with a brush of his hand upon her cheek that successfully brought her ramblings to a stop. "Don't say that either. You didn't drag me, I wanted to go - and believe me, I'm so grateful for ya, Ash. It's always fun celebratin' with you." he finished before leaning down to kiss her mouth and to calm whatever fears and doubts still plagued her.
Try as she might to avoid it to keep arguing, Ash melted into the gesture. Finding a ridiculous amount of comfort in his kiss and hating to admit at how her stomach still fluttered whenever he did that. As Johnny pulled back and smiled at her, Ash's heart and breathing calmed. His words and eyes so genuine, her fear at perhaps hurting him faded away and she sat back and took a deep breath of relief.
"It had been so long since I celebrated any holiday and you just made it so fun. You made me feel better - you really did, Ash. I used to be so sad whenever any holiday rolled around but…you changed that for me. I looked forward to them and I'm grateful for that. I truly am." Johnny admitted, reaching out to hold her paws and cradle them in his much larger hands. Ash flushed at the size difference as well as his much too sweet words that simultaneously wanted her to roll her eyes and kiss him again.
"So…does that mean you want to come to Moon's party with me tonight?" she asked hopefully.
It took a few moments before Johnny answered, "...I'm an American citizen and should be celebrating July 4th. I just never really considered it to be my home…until recently that is." Johnny smiled.
"...Is that a yes?" she asked.
Johnny didn't answer, just sighed before releasing her hands and opening his arms.
Ash smiled before immediately jumping into his lap; resting her head on his stomach and wrapping her short arms around his middle - well, as much as possible anyway. Johnny chuckled lightly, arms draping over her much smaller frame and for a second, the stifling heat in the garage didn't bother her one bit. For a long time, they just stayed like that until he shifted against her and finally replied.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Yes!" she said with way more enthusiasm that she meant to. Cheeks flushing a bit as she pulled away from his warm chest.
"If I knew it would make you that happy, I would have agreed earlier." Johnny chuckled at her excitement, hands steadfast on her lower back to make sure she didn't fall off his lap.
Ash gave his middle another quick hug before replying, "C'mon, then! You still need to change and we're already late." Ash continued before climbing off his lap (with his help of course).
"Since when do you care? You're always late to work." Johnny cheekily replied.
Ash flashed him a look, "That's work - this is fun - and free food. Besides, we both know you don't want to stay holed up in this hot as hell garage anyway." she teased and he returned her previous look but smiled regardless.
"I dunno, Ash." Johnny grumbled, scratching the back of his head as he made his way to stand up, "I'd feel kinda awkward - don't know the first thing about the 4th of July."
"Let me show you then."
"I dunno…" the uncertainty was back, "I was in the middle of working on -"
"Oh, come on, Johnny! You have weeks to work on that set." Ash held out her small hand for him to take and Johnny smiled at her. "Let's just have fun tonight."
"...Okay." he said with a resolute sigh before taking her hand.
"Hey, you two!" Moon excitedly said while walking up to the couple.
"Good evening." Johnny greeted as Ash muttered a "Sup?" to their boss.
"Wow! Super glad you could make it after all, Johnny!" Buster gave Ash a none-too-subtle wink which had her slipping her boss a dirty look but Buster didn't seem to pay much attention to it.
"Thanks, Mr. Moon." Johnny smiled at the koala with a hint of embarrassment staining his voice.
"Nice to see you two and be sure to have fun tonight!" Moon said with his normal flourish before he skirted back toward Eddie and Gunter standing nearby.
"Gunter seems to be enjoying himself…" Johnny acknowledged; said pig dressed all up in…what else? Another revealing jumpsuit - this one dabbled and decorated with the American flag and far too many sequins then should be legal. Even while Gunter was also a foreigner, it showcased how much he was embracing the lifestyle, and the excitement on his face to celebrate such an occasion was contagious.
"Gunter finds any reason to celebrate." Ash chuckled while waving to Meena, Miss Crawly, and Rosita sitting at a nearby picnic bench.
"That's true."
"Alright, Johnny. Step 1 of any July 4th celebration - food." Ash grabbed Johnny's hand and drug him over to said table. A smorgasbord of different dishes that were helluva lot nicer looking than her huge store-bought container of potato salad that Johnny was currently putting next to a fancy rainbow garden salad. Ash just shrugged it off before grabbing a plate for herself and handing another to Johnny.
"Step 2 - Knock yourself out." Ash directed and Johnny looked around the table as she steadily filled her plate with samples of everything from Buster's eucalyptus and watercress sandwiches, mozzarella, basil and balsamic vinegar crostinos, colorful pasta salads, fried tofu kabobs, all the dessert looking things available, and a hearty helping of potato salad because someone had to eat it. Ash was so busy piling her plate, she didn't even notice when Rosita approached them.
"Good evening Johnny and Ash! So glad to see you both!" she greeted; giving Johnny a tight hug and smiling at Ash whose plate was nearly full.
"You too! How have you been, Rosita?" Johnny replied and Ash smiled as the mother pig gave her a warm sideways hug.
"Great! Oh Ash, let me know if my ambrosia salad is too sweet - my kids went a little crazy with the marshmallows when they were helping me make it." she chuckled.
"...The what?" Ash asked confused as she looked down at her plate.
"The white one with the fruit in it." Rosita chuckled as she pointed to it on Ash's plate, "Oh, and you both need to try my pasta salad with the fried kabobs - they came out so much better than usual."
"Wow, Rosita you really have outdone yourself!" Johnny praised the mother pig while he put a few of the things she mentioned on his bare plate.
"Yeah, gee - I have no idea how you find the time the time to do anything with all your kids." Ash mused out-loud.
"I normally wouldn't be able to but Norman has been helping out a lot more lately." she gestured over to her exhausted-looking husband and their twenty five kids; some surrounding him and eating off his plate while the others were either playing quietly or being entertained by some of the other members of the theater group.
Johnny smiled at that and even waved to a few of her children who eagerly waved back before going back to their food. Ash peered over at her boyfriend's actions; chest warming at how Johnny was with kids even if she was still on the fence over how she felt towards the little germ-factories.
"That's good." Johnny commented and Rosita smiled at him before her attention was drawn to one of her more rambunctious sons who started getting a bit too close to the edge of the roof for her liking.
"Uh, yeah. I better go - motherhood calls." she said with a tired sigh. "Listen, you two enjoy yourselves; have a lovely time tonight and I'm glad you decided to join us, Johnny." the pig sighed a bit; gave Ash a soft pat on her back before she went off to chase after her child, "Casper! You get away from that ledge right now!"
Ash smiled after Rosita, still not understanding how the kind mother managed such a hectic life and found the time to perform for the multiple shows he theater did. Eyes slipping away from the sight and back to Johnny who was gingerly filling his plate. Ash patiently waited for him to finish.
"So, shall we?" she asked when he was done.
"Oh. Sure." Johnny replied before following his girlfriend to a nearby table.
"I thought by now, I would have had most American food - I never had this…" Johnny marveled at the grilled corn on the cob slathered with mayonnaise, melted cotija cheese and a hint of chili powder sprinkled on top.
"Probably because it's Mexican." Ash giggled.
"Oh…" he shrugged before taking another bite. "Eh, still good."
Ash, long finished with her food, gazed out at the group of people that had since accumulated to the party.
Meena was eating dessert with her parents, grandparents, and Gunter who was in the middle of what looked to be a riveting tale. Nana Noodleman had decided to attend their rather plain shindig in her normal opulent clothes. The older sheep was currently busy trying to dodge Rosita's children from touching her dress as Rosita and Norman tried to herd them away with little to no success. Miss Crawly's boyfriend showed up as the sun finally disappeared from the sky and the two had been "moonbathing" on a nearby bench since. Buster Moon and Eddie had broken out some champagne and Ash was tempted to grab a glass but Rosita's motherly presence kept her from indulging in the temptation of underage drinking…ugh, one more year…just one more year…
"You having a nice time?" Johnny's voice broke through her revelry.
Ash peered over a the gorilla who had seemingly just returned from disposing of both her and his empty plates. Had she really not noticed him even getting up?
"Uh, Yeah. Of course." Ash replied, reaching her hand out to grasp at his own and giving his index a gentle squeeze which he returned. "You?"
"Mm-hmm. It's nice. I-Is this mainly what 4th of July is? Just a potluck sorta thing?"
"Mostly." Ash shrugged.
"Oh." he sounded disappointed which surprised her. She knew he had to have known about fireworks and them just on a rooftop eating and hanging out must have seemed not at all what he expected.
"What did you think it was?" Ash asked as she made herself comfortable by leaning against his side.
"I dunno," he chuckled, "Wasn't exactly sure what to expect to tell you the truth. Just what I know from seeing it on the telly occasionally - I guess I just expected Buster to light some fireworks or something."
"Are you kidding?" Ash exclaimed, "Even with the success of his theater, you know he's still a cheapskate. He didn't even bother to buy some cheap sparklers or bottle rockets."
"True." Johnny shared in her mirth; glancing over to said tightwad koala to see him refolding clean napkins to use later on. "Yeah…I dunno what I was thinkin'."
"...he is resourceful though. Why do you think we're having the party on the roof?"
"Cause he's too cheap for air conditioning?"
"You mean like you?" Ash laughed outright.
Johnny flashed her a look that had her laughter increasing.
"Hey, I have a very expensive lawyer to pay for my dad - and AC isn't cheap or really necessary when it's just me living there." he muttered, face flushing in slight embarrassment and Ash had a hard time not kissing that adorable pout off his face.
"I know, Johnny. I'm just joking." Ash chuckled, settling for nuzzling her face against his side; the red fabric of his shirt and his thick fur underneath was incredibly soft against her cheek.
"Heh. Yeah…" he seemed to enjoy her touch; leaning more into her before continuing, "So, why did he have it on the roof?"
Ash just pulled away from his warmth and smiled at him. Johnny looked more or less confused or rather, suspicious, of it for a moment before he returned it.
"...Ready for the best part?" Ash asked; standing to her feet while gently pulling his hand for him to stand up beside her.
Johnny didn't speak, just stood beside her and looked down at her in slight confusion.
"To answer your question, Moon knew the roof would be the perfect spot to see the city's display this year - which should be starting…right...about…now." Ash said, the clock on her phone just hitting 10pm.
A few silent terse moments passed with absolutely nothing happening.
Ash cursed the fact it wasn't better timed but soon enough, Johnny confused glance was shifted from her to the sky when a sudden boom and a flash of red filled it. The excited chatter from the other animals faded into voices of "oohs" and "ahhs" as the fireworks show started.
Johnny was silent, his hand tightening around hers as more and more incredibly loud booms filled the sky with hypnotizing splashes of brilliant arrays of light and color. With the lights hanging from the roof and wires and blockage from nearby buildings, Ash's view wasn't the best. It sucked being so short - not to mention the twinges of pain starting in her neck from having to stare up so damn mu-
Ash suddenly gasped, her stomach plummeting a bit when she was suddenly being hoisted up by a pair of very strong, very large hands holding her up by her waist. The porcupine not completely gaining her bearings until Johnny placed her on his shoulders, her inner thighs pressing tightly into the sides of his neck. She instantly grasped onto him when the vantage point was made clear and it was as if she was seeing the world for the first time. Everything looked so different and she found herself smiling and laughing; pulling none-too-gently at his hair as she steadied herself on his muscular shoulders - he didn't seem to mind.
"That better?" he asked cheekily; hands firm and steady on her legs to make sure she wouldn't fall.
"Mind warning me next time?" Ash smirked, resting herself against the back of his head as her fingers loosened and ran through his soft black locks.
"Heh. Sorry." he mumbled and Ash wished she could see his face from this angle but she instead settled for just holding on tight and turning her eyes back toward the sky. Her view much clearer and just plain better from this vantage point.
"It's alright…You have a great view from up here - and the weather seems cooler too." she teased a bit and he chuckled in reply.
A few moments passed in silence.
Their gazes locked to the sky and the fireworks show taking place all around them. Scattered lights that sparkled; all different variations of ones that screamed as they shot through the night like a rocket while the others made shapes of varying kinds. Mostly giant round flashes of brilliant color spilling into the black inky canvas of the night. The iridescent light coming from them reflecting off their fur and skin and bathing them as well as the city around them in various, beautiful shades of orange, reds, and blues.
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"So…is this more of what you had in mind?" she breathed as the show neared its end, his hair shifting upon her speaking. Her hands cradling his head as she couldn't help but brush her nose against his fur.
Johnny went silent for a moment; the hands holding her legs tightened slightly before he replied, "No…"
Ash's eyes widened; shifting her sight down at the top of his head for a moment in shock before he elaborated.
"...It's better." he said, turning his head just enough so she could see the mirth in his eyes and the barest hint of the beautiful smile he bestowed upon her.
Ash shook her head but couldn't stop the smirk that tilted the edges of her lips upward. Hiding from his gaze, she rested her chin on top of his head and just enjoyed as the last flourishes of fireworks exploded in the night sky. Basking in the warmth of Johnny's body pressed against her own; his soft tufts of hair tickling her chin and how the light played off the black canvas of his fur.
Definitely the best 4th of July ever - and by how he tightened his fingers around her legs and the wonder in his voice as he exclaimed when a beautiful array of red and blue fireworks suddenly went off, she knew Johnny felt the same way...
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stillthewordgirl · 5 years
Text
LOT/CC fic: Captain Cold and Me (ch. 2 of 6)
Sara Lance, unbeknownst to her high school classmates, has connections to some of Star City’s most popular super-powered heroes–but no powers of her own. Then the mysterious Captain Cold saves her from an attack…and does his best to convince her that he’s not the bad guy everyone seems to think he is. And maybe not all of the “good guys” should be trusted…
Author’s note: Sorry! I post this yesterday, but I’m just getting around to putting it on Tumblr today. Still on track for a chapter a day, which means Ch. 3 will be posted later today. 
Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.
Sara was sitting on the living room couch, eating a bowl of microwaved mac and cheese and brooding about strange supers with parkas and oddly sexy smirks when she heard a certain echoing trill outside, and then the light noise of someone coming to a landing.
There was a reason her parents had moved them to this fairly remote house after Laurel’s powers had appeared. Sara continued eating her dinner as the front door opened and her big sister strolled in, immediately peeling off her black domino mask and the blond wig and dropping them to the floor unceremoniously. Laurel sniffed the air and looked immediately toward Sara, hope in her eyes.
“Ooooh,” she said, the long sigh ending in a yawn. “Tell me there’s more of that? Please?”
Sara jerked her thumb toward the kitchen without comment, and Laurel’s eyes brightened. She headed for the kitchen immediately, while Sara eyed the discarded items and sighed. She loved Laurel. She even loved Ollie, like an adopted, obnoxious big brother. But sometimes it felt like they were so caught up in superhero stuff that she, the non-hero of the family, was just assumed to be the one to pick up the pieces. Sometimes literally.
Laurel must have taken a moment to stop in her room, because when she moved back into the living room, she was wearing her favorite beat-up pink sweatshirt and ripped jeans, instead of her Black Canary garb. She plopped down next to Sara on the couch, tucking her feet under her, and stuffed a big forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth. Sara hid a grin. Her big sister, the classy superheroine.
She didn’t hide the grin very well. Laurel saw the expression and rolled her eyes but didn’t comment.
“Times like this,” she said after a moment, first forkful consumed, “I’m really glad I can fly. That way Ollie can’t get here and inhale everything before I get dinner.”
“I heard that.”
Oliver, one-time rich playboy, now hardworking superhero, stopped just inside the door and sighed, stripping back his hood and dropping his quiver and bow to the floor. (Sara sighed too.) He sniffed the air too, then visibly brightened.
“Change first!” Laurel commanded, pointing a finger at him as he took a step forward. She didn’t back down when he gave her a rather woebegone look completely at odds with his heroic image. “Better yet, shower. I’m not sitting here and watching that silly ninja-warrior show you like with you if you reek.”
Ollie pouted. There was really no better word for it. Sara, openly smirking, wished Felicity could see her super idols now.
“You didn’t,” he pointed out, eyeing Laurel’s obviously dry hair. “Shower.”
“I’m a lady.” Laurel stuck her nose in the air like a parody of a high-class snob while Sara giggled. “I don’t sweat. I sparkle.”
Her boyfriend grumbled to himself but headed for the basement. Sara was gratified to see him pick up his weapons before he did so.
Oliver Queen had moved in with them when his mother left town after…after everything. Moira Queen had wanted no further reminders of the city she felt she’d failed, but in the ruins of the old City Hall, her son had discovered a desperate ambition to learn how to use his powers and become a hero. And, as far as he was concerned, it had to be in Star City. For Tommy’s sake.
And probably for Dinah Lance’s, too, Sara thought. He’d known the family for years, and he’d brought years of growing pains to Dinah and Quentin Lance when his (now-deceased) father and proud, always-busy mother hadn’t had the time or inclination to help. Sara remembered his expression at the funeral, nearly as shell-shocked and lost looking as Laurel and Sara, and the tears rolling down his face at the cemetery.
For some reason, at that moment, she thought of Leonard Snart’s startled blue eyes, and the pain and stress she’d sensed behind them. Then she shook the impulse off.
Oliver’s little sister, Thea, had grudgingly gone with Moira, but Quentin, somewhat to Laurel and Sara’s surprise, had assured the former mayor that her son would always have a home with them if he’d cared to stay. And he had. Very much. Even after his mother had warned him she’d put him on a strict “allowance” from the Queen family fortune.
Now, Oliver lived in their finished basement, which he jokingly called the ArrowCave. He’d gotten more or less accustomed to living without endless supplies of cash or servants to cook or clean up after him. He really did work his butt off protecting the city—and he was, so far as Sara’s discerning eye could tell, utterly devoted to Laurel at this point. The long days and nights of patrolling and fighting together (and the shared grief) had cemented their bond, and while Ollie was still a flirt, he (and the Green Arrow) always came home to Laurel.
(Sara wasn’t sure if her father hadn’t really thought through the ramifications of having his older daughter’s superhero boyfriend living on site, or if he just didn’t really care. Well, she really didn’t care either, as long as they kept it out of her view. And hearing. Most definitely out of her hearing.)
Sara used to have a bit of a crush on Ollie, to tell the truth, but that had fled quickly in the clear, harsh reality of living with him. And his smelly superhero laundry. And his constant dumb jokes. And his frat-boy ability to burp the alphabet.
She’d already decided not to mention the attack on her way home—or her encounter with Star City’s newest super. At least, not really. But she couldn’t resist fishing a little…just a little.
“Laurel,” she said, staring at the TV, which was playing some sort of absurd sitcom about fake superheroes. “Do you know of any supers with…ice powers?”
Laurel lifted both eyebrows, a very big-sister expression that was somewhat spoiled by the smear of cheese on her nose. She wiped it off, thinking a moment. Laurel had become something of a student of supers throughout the years, something Sara knew well.
“Well,” she said finally, “there have been a few over the years. I don’t know of any active at the moment. There was one of the first supers, way back during World War II…and then that fellow during the ‘60s outside New York City—I think he’s still seen, from time to time. And that woman from Norway. Oh! And there have been stories of a woman in Central City with snowy powers for decades, but they’re erratic.” She looked thoughtful. “I actually think maybe it’s been more than one woman. As many as three? But I’d need to study…”
Sara nodded, thinking the history aspect had successfully distracted her sister from wondering about the origin of the question, but then Laurel narrowed her eyes and glanced at her, and she knew she hadn’t been so lucky.
“Why?” she asked suspiciously. “See someone new in town?”
Busted. Sara grasped for a response. If parka guy was indeed a new super, this ruse wouldn’t last long, but it could work for now. “School,” she said after a moment. “I’ve been thinking of...starting a project. Looking at the types of supers who’ve appeared, and when. The combinations of powers. I know elemental types aren’t the most common, but they’re not the rarest, either.” She warmed to the subject despite herself. “And the ones whose powers aren’t as quantifiable...or minor...”
Laurel was distracted...but not quite in the way Sara had intended. “Sara...” her sister said with a sigh, sitting down her empty plate on the table. “Is this about the heroes without powers thing again? Because you know the ones who sometimes seem that way always wind up being powered in non-obvious ways.” Her lips quirked a little. “Or having so much money that they can throw it at tech that makes them seem like they have powers.”
Well. At least she was distracted. Sara sighed. “I know, I know,” she muttered, looking down at her own empty plate, then looked up, glad for her own distraction when Oliver stomped back up the stairs, humming to himself, out of his Green Arrow garb, hair still damp. “So, anything interesting today?” There’d been no major crises with injury (well, thanks to parka guy, anyway), so it seemed safe to ask.
Oliver had already vanished into the kitchen, but Laurel laughed a little. “Miss Samson’s cat was up a tree again,” she said, smirking. “I think the poor thing likes Oliver!”
“Miss Samson or her cat?”
“Both!”
Ah, the glorious life of a superhero. Sara laughed too, then sighed, thinking of the newcomer she’d met. Would he be pulling cats down from trees soon? What else could he do with those powers? Build ice ramps? Shields? Or just knock out would-be kidnappers?
Goodbye, Sara. She was a little creeped out that he knew her name, and probably where she lived—she was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined that out-of-sight escort on the way home. But she was intrigued too. It was an uneasy mix.
“There was an attempted robbery outside the café on Howard and Zimmerman, but the perp didn't even have a real weapon.” Ollie plopped himself down on the couch between them, massive plate of pasta in hand. “He was just trying to fake it. Piece of cake. Laurel didn’t even need to leave her lunch with your dad.”
Sara looked down, frowning. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a meal with her father. Dinner tonight would have been the first time in...weeks?
Laurel cut in, though, apparently sensing Sara’s mix of ire and disappointment. “Dad wanted to talk to me about doing another photo shoot with Oliver tomorrow,” she told her sister apologetically. “Something to show people there really is a counter to all the violence and crime in Star City. You know: Look! Come to Star! We have superheroes!” She shrugged. “I mean, all big cities do, really.”
“But Star has the most attractive ones,” Oliver added, grinning. (Sara rolled her eyes and neglected to mention that he’d gotten cheese in that mustache he was attempting to grow, which in her opinion looked more like a caterpillar with mange.) He leaned over her and winked at Laurel. “Your dad really shouldn’t have nixed the fishnets for your costume,” he said, grinning—and ducking as Laurel threw a balled-up napkin at his head.
Ollie dropped his plate and lunged for her and Laurel giggled and Sara, rising with an eye roll, decided that this might be a good time to head to her room. She had homework anyway.
But every thought of math problems and history readings vanished when she ran the small scrap of white fluttering from her bedroom window. Sara retrieved it with trepidation and a weird thrill, reading the words written there in metallic blue ink.
“Pleased to meet you today, Sara. See you again soon.”
The next morning was one of those when Sara went into her martial arts studio to train a bit before classes. She’d changed studios about a year ago—in part, to avoid running into Nyssa, an ex who trained at the other site, and in part because she didn’t like the tone the philosophy there was starting to take. Nyssa’s father ran that studio, and while Sara was all for harsh practicality when it came to self-defense, she’d heard him say some things she just didn’t agree with.
She showered and changed at the quiet studio, then headed for school. She heard the distant sound of sirens but didn’t think much of it. There were always sirens in Star City.
Later, she’d wonder why she hadn’t checked her phone, but at the time, distracted by other thoughts, she never even thought of it. Not until later, when she noticed the way other students were clustered around each other just outside the high school, the signs of distress and even tears, and then Felicity running down the steps toward her.
“Did you see?” the blond girl asked urgently. “Sara, did you see?”
Sara blinked at her. “No?” she asked, stopping. “What’s going on?
“New City Hall! It’s on fire!” Felicity pointed, and Sara spun, gasping, realizing where that faint scent of smoke had been coming from. She’d figured someone was illegally burning garbage nearby. It was farther away...but far, far worse. A plume of inky smoke rose toward the sky from the center of the city, dark and somehow malicious, and Sara felt like her heart was going to stop.
She fumbled her phone out of her pocket, nearly gasping in relief when she saw a text from her father already flashing there.
“Im OK,” it said. If her dad was dropping punctuation, he really was distracted and upset. “Breakfast meeting today dontown, almost noone in building yet. GA&BC got them out. Everyone ok”
Then another text appeared: “Well catch this guy sweetie. Tell your friends not to worry.”
“He’s OK? Your dad?” Sara looked up and nodded, and Felicity breathed a sigh of relief, then reached out to catch Sara’s arm. “C’mon! They’ve got a TV set up in the cafeteria. The security company offsite pulled some of the outside footage already, and someone gave it to Channel 4.”
“So...arson?” Of course it was. It couldn’t just be an electrical short or someone leaving something unattended in the kitchen. Sara bit her lip and followed her friend into the school.
The cafeteria was packed with students who should have been in classes—but even the teachers were here, too, watching and talking quietly to each other. There were tears in no few eyes, Sara noticed—probably not for this crisis, so much, but because it was bringing back clear memories of two years ago, when the center had dropped out of everything. Sara noticed Leonard Snart, his face set, in a corner, staring at the TV. As if he’d felt her gaze, he looked over at her, and they exchanged a glance of what Sara thought was commiseration. They both knew the feelings this trouble was bringing up.
The anchor on the screen was speaking, but the buzz of conversation in the room was so strong that Sara couldn’t hear what she was saying. But as the image on the screen changed, and the pulled security footage started playing, everyone stopped talking to watch.
And nearly immediately, Sara could hear her heart pounding in her ears instead. Because she recognized that tall figure as it extended a hand toward a lock on a door at the back of City Hall. Knew what it meant when a blue-white flash covered the lock, and when the figure drove his foot into it, kicking the door down. He looked up, right into the camera, showing his hooded head and goggles, then lifted a hand and iced over the camera. Dimly, though, the watchers could still make out his figure striding into the building. The building that was now on fire.
“Who was that?” Felicity asked, her voice loud in the stunned room. “Sara...is that a super?”
And then everyone was talking at once. Everyone who wasn’t Sara. Sara couldn’t find the words.
Her annoying superhero—who knew where she lived--was a supervillain.
Star City had never had a supervillain before. Most criminals were just run-of-the-mill opportunists, with a sprinkling of more dangerous types—like Lewis Snart—with a personal ax to grind and, somehow, the resources to cause a lot of trouble. (Sara had always wondered where, precisely, a disgraced police officer had acquired the know-how and parts to build a device like that. No one had ever really answered that to her satisfaction.)
A villain with super powers? That was bad. That was truly scary. Who knew what someone like that could do?
Video from inside City Hall couldn’t be obtained, destroyed or obscured in the blaze. Mayor Merlyn gave a live address on TV that night, blaming the fire on the super who’d been seen entering the building through the door with the iced-over lock. The commentators on the news bantered back and forth about whether the man—they’d all decided it was a man—had ice powers and fire powers, but such a thing was unheard of. There were plenty of ways to start a fire, after all, but everyone had seen him use ice powers.
They started calling him “Captain Cold.”
Both Oliver and Laurel, who’d worked all morning making sure the fire crews were safe and that there really was no one stuck in the building, were exhausted. The Flash, a speedster hero who was most often seen in Central City, had even arrived to help, picking up the pieces, getting as many records and files and other items out of City Hall as possible. Not everything had been utterly destroyed—in fact, parts were nearly unscathed, except for a bit of water damage—but the building was considered dangerous enough at the moment that only a speedster was cleared to go in. The mayor’s office in particular had been gutted.
Quentin Lance looked…well, he looked numb. To Sara’s shock, he was standing in the kitchen when she got home that night, staring at a handful of somewhat battered papers spread out on the table. He looked up as she entered, and she hesitated, then crossed the floor to him, dropping her backpack and hugging him, hard.
For a moment, he hugged her back, just as hard, and it was almost like it’d been once upon a time, before he’d withdrawn into work and his burning need to keep the city safe. But then the door banged closed, and Sara heard Laurel’s voice, and her dad let her go, turning to his superhero daughter and raising his voice in a question.
Sara sighed, closing her eyes. Then she opened them determinedly. Things were different now, that was all. It wasn’t about her.
“Couldn’t find him,” Laurel was saying, weariness in her voice. “There have been a few sightings, apparently. Nothing…nothing bad, really. In fact, the opposite. Helping a kid whose bike was being stolen. Getting food for a single mom and her kids and icing it down so they could get it home. It makes no sense.” She pulled off her mask and her gloves and rubbed her hands over her face.
Sara, listening, frowned. Why would one person do such wildly varied things? But before she could say anything, Oliver staggered into the room, dropping into one of the chairs with a groan, and the three residents of the Lance household who weren’t Sara were all talking about villain lairs and thermal imaging and warning systems…
“Are they sure the…the guy who froze the camera is the one who started the fire?” Sara cut in, before she’d even realized she was going to say anything. “I mean. There’s only the video of him breaking in. Right?”
Big mistake.
The other three stared at her like they’d forgotten she was there. (They probably had.) But then Laurel’s eyes sharpened, and she pointed at her sister, ignoring the question but focusing in on the detail that Sara had hoped she’d forgotten.
“You just asked about ice powers. Yesterday!” Laurel exclaimed. “Sara…do you know something?”
Their dad made a noise that sounded like a cross between disbelief (and that was just a little insulting, really) and concern. Oliver simply tilted back his back and eyed her. Sara spread her hands and shook her head, scrambling for words.
“No!” she said, even as she wondered why she didn’t just tell them. “It was just a stupid coincidence. I was thinking about the whole elemental thing…how studies show that powers appear together…”
But they were already talking amongst themselves again, Sara apparently forgotten. With a sigh, she picked up her bag, and headed for her room.
Of course, she couldn’t sleep.
Between the stress of the day and the connotations of that “see you again soon,” Sara was so on edge that she gave up on slumber pretty quickly, curling up with a book and trying to convince herself that was no way whatsoever that the newly named Captain Cold would actually find her here. Surely, he’d have bigger problems, like hiding from supers and the police or…or burning own more buildings…
Why would he want to burn down City Hall to begin with? Sara frowned at her book. Nothing made sense.
But despite everything, her sixth sense (not a superpower, sadly, not at all) came though. She was just trying to decide if she should shut the lights off and try to sleep when there was a scratch at the window.
Then another.
And then the window slid open—even though Sara knew perfectly well she’d locked it. And the hooded head of Captain Cold poked through.
Sara promptly threw a knife at him.
Her aim was good. And it was a sharp one, too, and could have done some damage if it connected. She saw his mouth form an “O” and then he threw his hands up, icy mist emerging from them and somehow slowing the knife to nearly a stop. He then plucked it out of the air, even as he climbed the rest of the way through the window and faced her.
Damn. Sara bounced to her feet, considered yelling, then fell into a fighting stance, watching him.
Captain Cold gave her a look that somehow came across as incredulous even though she couldn’t see his eyes. He tossed the knife to the surface of her bed and folded his arms.
“Ex-cuse me?” he demanded, in that insolent drawl. “I saved your life yesterday. Why are you attacking me?”
Sara’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? You’re in my bedroom!” She lowered her voice but continued to speak furiously. “Uninvited! And you burned down City Hall. I saw you! You’re a…a supervillain, Captain Cold!”
That got a huff of laughter. Captain Cold pulled the hood back, revealing…another hood, a form-fitting white one that covered his head. He left his goggles on, concealing his eyes, but the edges of his mouth tilted upward in a smile.
“Probably not the name I would have chosen,” he mused, leaning against the wall. “But it will do.”
Sara stared. “You seem,” she said carefully, “to be ignoring the important part of that.”
Cold shrugged. “The fire was sort of an accident.” He crossed his arms. “It wasn’t supposed to get quite so out of hand. My…well. I needed a distraction.” He shook his head as Sara struggled with all her questions. “I need your help.”
Sara blinked, feeling like she’d completely lost track of the situation. “Why the hell would I help you?”
Cold smirked at her. “You could have raised your voice instantly and had someone here to help you,” he pointed out, correctly. “You didn’t. You know I’m not a bad guy. Not really. And you’re intrigued, Sara Lance.” He chuckled as her eyes narrowed again. “Yeah. I knew you were the police commissioner’s daughter. I need someone with an in at the city government. And you’ve got that in…and the nerve, the brains and the curiosity.”
Sara promptly pulled a knife out of her other sleeve and threw that one at him, too.
He put up a hand and slowed it almost nonchalantly this time. The blade fell to the carpet with a tiny “thud”
“I’ll tell you more later,” he told her, turning back toward her window. “I just…just wanted to check in. To tell you…” He glanced back at her and hesitated. “…that I’m not…quite what they’re saying. OK? I just want someone to know that.”
Sara should scream. She knew it. Laurel and Ollie and her dad would be here in a second, and they’d capture this supervillain, this arsonist, this…
“I don’t like not being able to see your eyes,” she said before she even realized the words were coming out.
Cold tilted his head, watching her. “Would it help?” he asked finally, reaching up, his fingertips brushing the strap of his goggles.
“It might.” Eyes were a major tell, not only for martial arts but for so many other things.
Cold nodded. “So noted.” He started to duck out the window again, then paused, looking at her.
“There’s something else going on in Star City, Sara,” he told her. “Something rotten. And I’m going to find out what it is.”
And then he was gone.
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