#I KNOW THIS LOOKS LIKE DEAD LANCE BUT ITS NOT OKAY

[autisticlancemcclain]

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– – –

The mission falls apart.

Keith wishes he was surprised. 

They lose communication with Hunk right from the get-go, following a giant explosion that collapses a good third of the entire base. Keith feels the panic begin to grow, then – not Hunk, not Hunk, we can’t lose Hunk, our support, our nurturer, our engineer, our friend. 

“Keith, focus! He’s fine! Explosions mess with the comm’s radio waves, you know that!”

Keith forces himself to swallow, to focus on the very real threat of armed Galran general in front of him. His focus is fucking shot, today, it’s ridiculous, he’s usually better than this. 

But something does not feel right. 

Keith continues to provide the main distraction in the control room, double blades slashing and stabbing anyone who comes close. Lance is perched somewhere above him, firing shot after shot and never once missing. 

Keith forces his hands to stop shaking, to hold the blades steadily. 

Shiro is covering Pidge. They’re sending updates. They’re both fine. Allura is ripping the entire experimental warfare department apart with her bare hands. (These fuckers have nothing on her superstrength.) Coran is shooting down every single reinforcement fleet and keeping the pods up and running. Hunk’s radio waves are simply blocked, he’s fine.

A blue laser flies millimetres away from his ear, nailing a soldier in the head right before they lift their blaster to blow Keith’s head off. Keith smiles despite himself.

Lance is fine, too. 

“I’m done here. Who needs help?” Allura doesn’t even sound like she’s broken a sweat, which is entirely like her and also entirely unfair. Keith is suddenly aware that his undersuit is drenched, which is disgusting and also distracting.

“We’re good. I’ve managed to take care of any soldier to come close to us – there haven’t been many, Keith and Lance have been handling most of them; great job, guys – and Pidge is almost done.”

“Alright, Shiro. Lance and Keith, I’m coming to you.” 

Keith stops listening after that. Not that there’s much to listen to, he doesn’t think. He lets his brain settle into the rhythm of the fight, synching his breaths with every slash of his sword, matching every turn and flick of his eyes to his heartbeat. He is, in some backward way, grateful for a routine he is familiar with, even if it’s stressful and kind of horrible. He notices when Allura finally makes it into the fray – his whole job is noticing everything and reacting to it – because it is, honestly, kind of hard to miss her ear-splitting battle cry and the sound of her massive axe helpfully removing the burden of several Galran soldier’s heads from their bodies. 

Time passes, or it doesn’t. Keith’s not a hundred percent sure. All he knows is that just when he thinks he and the rest of the team – who trickled in eventually, Hunk’s arrival especially drawing several cries of relief – think they have finally thinned out the room, a new surge of soldiers and sentries crowds the room and they have to drag themselves alert again lest they literally die. 

A myriad of curses fill the comms at a new wave, the bridge they’re fighting in become more crowded and more dangerous. 

That is not what worries Keith. 

He has three soldiers and four sentries turn to him at once, weapons bared, danger attacking him from all angles. He barely has the time to react, and fully misses a shot from one of the sentry's blasters, burning a hole into one of the unprotected parts of his armour which stings like a swarm of wasps.

That is not what worries Keith, either. 

Quietly, almost silently, in fact so slight it might be a figment of Keith’s anxious imagination, there’s a breathy noise over the comms, a sharp inhale. And Keith realises he has not seen blue laser fire flashing steadily, knocking down adversaries one by one with ease. 

That is what worries Keith. 

“Lance, status report,” Keith orders immediately. He immediately notices the sudden stiffness in Shiro’s shoulders, right next to him, and hears Hunk echoing Keith’s worry. Matters are made worse by the several minutes that pass before Lance replies. 

“Um, could be better,” Lance says quietly, clearly out of breath. “Really wishing I was a flounder right now. They can move their eyes to the back of their head, you know. Real useful skill. You guys are going to need it.”

“Lance, darling, the point,” Allura says, voice short and more sharply space-British than usual. “You need to get to it.”

There’s another moment of hesitation, and Keith can practically hear Lance’s thoughts, desperately hoping he can resolve the situation on his own before asking for help, because Lance hates being vulnerable although he’d rather die than admit it. Keith is genuinely better at asking for help than Lance, and Keith has never been out-stubborned in that particular avenue before. 

“I got shoved off my perch,” Lance admits eventually. As soon as he says it, Keith realises it’s not his usual laser-focus that is making his breathing so heavy, nor is it frustration, but an injury from falling twenty-six fucking feet. 

“Lance,” shout several frustrated voices in unison, including Keith’s. 

“Injuries,” Pidge snaps. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watches her whip her bayard forward with particularly brutal strength, perfectly calculated to knock out an entire squad of sentries. “List them. Now.”

“Nothing fatal,” Lance assures. “In fact I might not even bruise.”

“Lance,” Allura warns, again. Keith wonders if Keith is going to hear Lance’s name echoed in his nightmares, voices of the team tinged in panic, calling for him again and again and never getting a straight answer. Keith has always admired Lance’s ability to lighten a room, but it scares him, sometimes. He wonders against his will if Lance will die laughing, with his final joke still hanging in the air like a noose.

The thought makes him gag, stomach twisting painfully and violently. He doesn’t want to even imagine it, and hates himself for imagining it anyway. 

 “It’s fine,” Lance says eventually. “I didn’t fall on my head, or anything. And the armour held up pretty well, so any and all damage to my extremities is contained.”

“Lance!” Keith shouts, and it echoes over and over in his head. “Please, for the love of God.”

Lance laughs, high strung and pained, the first cracks in his faith and his fearlessness and his hope. “I can’t move,” he says, and he almost sounds giddy, and he laughs again, and the panic floods through. “I sprained my wrist. And. Um. You know how the knee bends one way? Mine bends the other, now. I’m stuck. It’s funny, kind of, huh? ”

There’s a beat of hesitation before the entire team whips to face Lance, everyone’s mouth dropped at the same time, same terror written on their faces, same shouts pushing their way past their throats. 

Keith sees as Lance’s other leg, not bent grotesquely, finally gives out. He sees as Lance’s back hits the wall. He sees the shattered glass of Lance’s helmet. He sees as his face crumples in pain and he drops his gun. He sees Lance look up, brown eyes clouded in panic, locked with Keth’s. He sees Lance’s mouth open, hears an aborted ‘k’ sound over the comms. 

He doesn’t see who shot the bullet. But he does see the perfectly circular hole that burns through Lance’s forehead. And he sees the light die from Lance’s eyes before he can finish begging Keith to save him. 

– – –

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#I KNOW THIS LOOKS LIKE DEAD LANCE BUT ITS NOT OKAY #this is a TIME LOOP au #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #pre klance #keith & lance #team as family #angst #keith angst #langst #time loop au #to be continued #brown-eyed lance #black paladin keith #red paladin lance #my writing #fic #longpost

[charlietheepicwriter7]

V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car. 

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat? 

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium. 

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day. 

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were. 

And Danny hated how easy they had it. 

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay. 

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood. 

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack. 

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here. 

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it. 

Corrupt bastards. 

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.” 

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right? 

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes. 

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones. 

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number. 

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham. 

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly. 

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. 

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood. 

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt. 

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response. 

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.” 

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick. 

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked. 

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily. 

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him. 

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point. 

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.” 

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door. 

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged. 

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

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#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

[girlboypersonthingy]

omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩

Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!

❤️Love Triangle💙

Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.

Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.

Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.

It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.

Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.

Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.

One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.

Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin

But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.

Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮

“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”

“Well I liked them first!”

“No! No! Dibs!”

“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*

For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.

It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.

It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?

Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.

Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.

The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.

That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah

All right in front of you

And all the while, the whole team is so confused

Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.

Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀

Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”

Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.

Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.

Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)

Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)

They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(

The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.

Yes, they both like you.

Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.

But they respect each other and they respect you.

And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.

They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.

Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron x reader #voltron x you #vld #keith x reader #vld keith #keith vld #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #lance vld #voltron lance #vld lance #lance voltron #keith voltron #voltron keith #lance mcclain #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader

[comradekatara]

oh ur voltron essay is so incredibly true. it also provides some answers to the bafflement i have been experiencing when looking at zukka tags. like, i was THRILLED when zukka got popular bc i thought it would be freedom from the endless katara ship wars. but people have gotten so incredibly weird. the amount of racist mischaracterization in the tumblr zukka-sphere is out of control. i had accepted that the majority of zukka shippers do not understand the characters at all, and you have now made me realise: not only do they not understand the characters, they see them as. fucking keith and lance. this is horrifying i’m gonna have to sit and contemplate it for a long time

yeah no the katara ship wars are still waging on, people are also just racist about sokka now too. which is awesome. but yeah if not for the fact that i see people compare them to klants all the fucking time (even before zukka got popular, in fact) i would think that im somehow delusional and exaggerating these trends but i know im not because people are constantly admitting it. just saying it out loud. like i used to see people calling sokka and zuko “rivals” a lot and that is clearly a byproduct of klantsification because everyone knows that sokka and azula are rivals. sokka and zuko are simply not rivals in any way except for in the sense that they were trying to kill each other in book 1 i guess. but i’d hardly call that a “rivalry.”

its like. sokka hates zuko and wants him dead and then zuko comes to the western air temple and begs to be let into their group and sokka doesn’t trust him but aang says that he does and sokka knows that aang needs a firebending teacher so that he can defeat the firelord and win the war so sokka is like “okay if that’s what you want, aang” and then he still doesn’t really like or trust zuko at all (at one point he even tells him to go jump into a volcano, which is the TV Y-7 way of getting “kill yourself” through s&p) but he needs information on zuko if he’s going to rectify his mistake and then zuko insists on tagging along for his suicide mission and sokka doesn’t really care whether or not zuko lives or dies so he’s like “yeah fine whatever it’s your funeral” and then zuko demonstrates that he’s actually really earnest and sincere and charmingly awkward and willing to do anything to help sokka and always follows his lead so sokka is like “okay i like this guy now” and then they’re friends and that’s that. at no point does sokka view him as a rival.

as for zuko. zuko doesn’t really care about sokka because he’s hyperfocused on capturing aang and literally nothing else matters and then he decides that he would do anything to help the avatar defeat his father and then sokka kills the indestructible walking wmd of an assassin zuko had previously hired with just his boomerang and then zuko helps sokka infiltrate the boiling rock and proves that he would literally die for him for nothing in return except the reward of seeing him happy. so at no point does zuko consider sokka his rival because he just straight up knows that sokka is better than him in every possible way and he respects that (to an almost unhealthy degree) and just follows his lead unquestioningly. if anything zuko’s rival is also azula, because they were always competing for the same affections. (except azula considers sokka her rival, while zuko considers azula his rival.)

and ppl will frame ZUKO as being out of SOKKA’S league and it’s like. the whole POINT is that sokka is out of zuko’s league and zuko knows it the whole world knows it!!!! they’re not rivals, sokka isn’t a wacky flirty idiot, zuko genuinely terrorized him for months on end, their friendship is built on the intensity of zuko’s devotion genuinely outweighing his previous crimes. anyone who cannot see past the aesthetic similarities between what is a genuinely compelling dynamic between two very well-constructed, dimensional characters and personified shallow tropes written and shipped together in a cynical cash grab should not be engaging with zukka as a ship.

it was so much better in the beforetimes, when no one knew that gay people existed, and everyone who did even remotely ship them was like “awww I love their bromance. #brosforever” because at least then they actually kind of understood what their dynamic was even if they weren’t reading any sort of romantic subtext into it. but I do want to make myself clear. reading romantic subtext into sokka and zuko’s relationship is a genuinely coherent and informed reading of the text. it is not a “headcanon” or a “crackship,” it is a valid interpretation of what is depicted onscreen.

“the boiling rock” is truly the gay subtext episode of atla (and by that I also mean the azula mai ty lee love triangle, which was truly a life changing moment for me as a child) and while there are of course multiple valid readings of characters’ motivations and behaviors as grounded in and informed by the text, especially when it comes to unspoken romantic motivations, i really do think that it’s in no way a stretch to assume that due to factors such as — a) zuko knowing sokka and saying sokka’s name way more than he says any other gaang member’s name b) zuko risking his own life to blindly follow sokka on a suicide mission to an impenetrable supermax when he is literally wanted by the state for high treason, and trusting his lead unconditionally c) zuko just generally being so soft and docile around sokka when he’s normally a tightly wound ball of stress and rage who yells at anyone who so much as looks at him funny, and of course d) zuko literally flirting with sokka in the cooler??? because I don’t know how else to explain that scene that looks like it came straight out of a cheap porno — really do seem to indicate that zuko is down bad for sokka.

and seeing as a) reading zuko as gay is already such a logical way to read his entire character arc and the significance of his journey and b) pretty much everyone they meet is down bad for sokka (assuming they’re not already down bad for katara, that is), it’s really not an incoherent or fantastical ship. like, ymmv on whether sokka actually returns zuko’s feelings (I am mostly a proponent of one-sided zukka, but I also think that I could sort of see them getting together in their late 20s or smth. idk), it’s a genuinely compelling and coherent way to read their dynamic nonetheless. the problem is when people reduce their preexisting, compelling dynamic in service of conforming to narrow and often harmful (eg, racist) troping.

i am genuinely compelled by zuko’s uncharacteristic, almost hero-worship of sokka, his desperation to be his friend to the point of following him to the ends of the earth to prevent him from quite literally killing himself. and i think there’s something really lovely about the way these two teenage boys who have both struggled so much to conform to a harmful and militaristic masculinity could embrace their nerdier and more sensitive qualities (eg, zuko is canonically a theater kid who is apparently “quite the seamstress,” sokka is canonically a poet[ry appreciator] and likes to draw and carve) together.

i love the idea of a postcanon wherein sokka acts as zuko’s senior advisor and basically willingly puppets him and runs the fire nation from the shadows (while also doing the same in the earth kingdom simultaneously, because let’s be real, both zuko and kuei are out of their depths), and how that would also complicate their dynamic. but of course anyone who does subscribe to the “sokka works in the fire palace” hypothetical always makes sokka an “ambassador,” which is just stupid. sokka would not be satisfied merely doing ambassadorial busywork, he is literally an incorrigible control freak and he would be shadow running the fire nation, at zuko’s behest. and so on and so forth.

and yet, all the fanart of them is either wildly out of character, or sokka and zuko’s personalities have literally been reversed, which is somehow even worse. i won’t pinpoint exact examples, but im also pretty sure that if you took my hand and we went into the zukka tag together, i would just be like “nope. no. no. wrong. incorrect. wildly incorrect. egregiously wrong. no. incorrect.” and so on and so forth for every single post.

so yeah. the reason i don’t really discuss their dynamic anymore, despite still finding it compelling in its own right, is because the fans genuinely annoy me so much that they’ve turned me into a hater. it’s not even that it’s a bad ship, or that it’s not my personal cup of tea, or that’s it not grounded enough in canon for my liking. i think they’re fascinating to chew on as presented in the text. but what “fans” have done to “them” has warped whatever potential they actually have in the text into something that is both sinister and obnoxious. those aren’t sokka and zuko anymore. that’s lankka and keiko. and i don’t know those guys. they are total strangers to me. and they’re annoying and shallow and cliched and have i mentioned annoying. and i hate them.

#unhinged yet cogent zukka rant under the cut…….. #unreachedgalaxy #asks #sokka #zuko #sokkaxzuko #synthesis #hot takes #analysis #society if zukka shippers actually cared about the text and weren’t racist and obnoxious and corny and annoying and

[cellarspider]

Part 1/??: Descending into the depths of madness, and also Prometheus

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

We begin with the dissection of a movie destined to be picked over by eagles for all eternity, Prometheus.

I want to preface this by saying that this is not intended as a general critique of the movie. I’m going to be explaining how this movie became a font of madness for me specifically, in a way that friends of mine have found amusing. More below the fold.

I sat down in a theater in 2012, having seen all of the main Alien movies, having vague-to-specific awareness of the ancillary stuff–comics, games, et cetera–and a fascination with H.R. Giger’s work, and the way others had adapted his style to fit the series. I had seen the first trailer for Prometheus, and the “David 8” promotional video. 

It’s worth giving a moment for these videos, actually, because whoever cut it did a phenomenal job. Trailers are there to sell a movie, sure, but they’re also setting expectations, and this one set them high.

It is a fantastic trailer, for a movie that does not entirely happen. I saw this and it said to me “this might have a similar tone to Alien”. Which is the message it is intending to send: Alien opens with a title card revealed in a very similar manner, and features howling klaxons at its climax, and panicked screaming at unresponsive technology. The trailer is deliberately invoking these scenes:

Flashing light warning for the following video, though the sounds themselves are effective enough:

Combine with the further context that Ridley Scott directed Alien and was back to direct Prometheus? This was a must-see, as far as I was concerned. I like slow, measured horror films that work on atmosphere, building something darkly beautiful in the process: My top three at the time were Hellraiser, Sunshine, and Alien. Annihilation has since joined that list, and at the time, Prometheus looked like it might as well.

Particularly with the video that introduced David.

I’ve always loved android characters, and this series already included some excellent ones. Ian Holm’s plays the perfect merciless corporate man as Ash, and his reveal as an android is deeply unnerving. Lance Henriksen’s performance as Bishop in Aliens is iconic for a reason. In this fake advert, Michael Fassbender nails a combination of corporate blandness, carefully tuned non-threatening behavior, and absolutely dead-eyed emotional insincerity. At the same time, he’s presented as a new being, a fully capable individual with no personal history or chance to define himself. That can be really interesting when played properly. I wanted to see more of David.

That was where I was at, when the movie started.

The first scenes in a movie are important for setting audience expectations. A viewer could have never seen anything about the movie before sitting down to watch it. For those who do already know some things–the publicity around a movie, its place in a broader series, or broader things like genre tropes–these people also have to be led to an understanding of what the movie is going to be.

The first scenes are also vital for establishing suspension of disbelief. Suspension of disbelief isn’t turning off your brain, it’s allowing yourself to entertain certain ideas as fact, and then following those preconditions through the logic presented in the movie. If scene-setting fails–or the audience goes in unwilling to follow in the first place–then you’re in trouble.

And I was very willing to follow this movie at the start. I’m a geneticist. I love science fiction, even though I know how wrong most works in the genre are about biology. If a work says “this thing is possible”, I’m usually able to say “okay, I’ll allow it”. This first scene successfully managed to do that for me.

This is in part thanks to the fact that Iceland is a gorgeous place.

(Source)

Sweeping shots of nothing but landscape so stark that much of it looks like abstract art. I would, and have, watched movies entirely composed of this. Yes, I am the sort of person who enjoys Koyaanisqatsi.

Despite the contemplative subject matter, cuts in Prometheus feel off, and in a deliberate way. In the clip of Koyaanisqatsi above, the film follows the music. In Prometheus, they’re consistently off, coming at moments that feel like they’re halfway through a breath. Usually we speak of dissonance in music, but in this case, we have dissonance in motion. I didn’t notice this in the theater at the time. It’s subtle, but there. 

The opening shows us a humanoid alien engage in what appears to be a deliberate, religiously-tinged self-sacrifice, drinking a black substance that causes them to disintegrate. More dissonance in motion, going from deliberate action and the slow departure of a ship, to sudden and seemingly agonizing death. The view zooms in to the microscopic, where DNA is shown disintegrating and then reforming into new strands. We see what appears to be embryonic division: the beginning of new life.

(Sources: https://screenmusings.org/movie/blu-ray/Prometheus/, https://www.cap-that.com/prometheus/ ) 

The movie has asked for you to believe this much: humanoid aliens exist, they are technologically advanced, and they have a substance that can break down and remake biological material.

This also provided the first minor hurdle for me, as a then geneticist-in-training.

I’m very used to abstracted illustrations of DNA. All most people need to know is that it’s a double-helix (two spring shapes) held together by connecting bits made of four different, paired “bases”. Like A and B in the figure below, you usually don’t need all the information in C:

(Source: https://courses.lumenlearning.com/suny-mcc-microbiology/chapter/structure-and-function-of-dna/) 

And in some ways, the movie gives a very decent illustration! They preserved much of the geometry, evident in the “major groove” and “minor groove” shapes noted in Figure A: the usual configuration of DNA in our cells is a slightly wonky spiral, which they appear to almost nail here. They also appear to have tried to render this DNA in a visual style coherent with H. R. Giger’s work.

They have done so by turning it into a pale bacon ladder, or possibly some very strange pasta.

This was slightly humorous to me, but it’s hard to render molecular-level stuff in a way that’s intelligible to an audience, so I was willing to go with it. This also gave an extra bit of information: this alien species has DNA.

Now, this is a given for multicellular life on Earth, but it’s not a given in the speculative world of astrobiology. Life requires some sort of way to encode instructions for how to build its component parts, but DNA is not the only way that could be done.

Overall, I like this scene. It, and one that comes relatively soon after, are stand-out scenes in terms of setting mood, matching the expectations from the trailer.

Unfortunately, they set the mood for a different movie than what actually follows.

And we meet the first stumbling blocks in the next scene, and have our first brush with some of the movie’s blunt-force approach to themes and exposition.

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

#Prometheus 2012 #This is only the first few minutes of the movie #And seven pages into my writing on it #You do not want to know how long my draft document is by now

[klaissance]

Do you have any dad klance headcannons?

Thank you so much for asking dear sweet asker I appreciate you so much. I actually,,, lowkey don't? Dad!Klance is not something I think about that much, I think bc as a teenage girl in my 20s I am not in a parent/family space that often BUT FOR YOU IMMA TRY HERE WE GO:

for starters I think they're really good at it let's get that straight from the jump

Lance always wanted to be a parent I think--comes from a big family, has watched his siblings become parents, is obsessed with his cool uncle status, has always seen parenthood ahead as something to look forward to

Keith is the opposite, never in a million bazillion years thought that was in the cards for him

he's gay so that came with its own list of things to be worried about that would be difficult in terms of, like, acquiring a child, plus he just sort of had a shitty time as a kid, has a funny relationship with the words "parent" and "dad" and hasn't had the time to hash that out with a therapist because he's been in space

really truly Keith is a feral desert child and when presented with the thought of turning a small being into an adult suitable for society his brain shorts out

...until they get together

actually, both of them flip on this while they're in space OKAY NOW WE'RE COOKING

Lance, my poor sweet darling prince, is a little less sold on children. He grows up hard and fast and violent in the intergalactic war they're thrust into, sees terrible things happen to good people all over the place, sees kids left parentless and parents lose a child, sees himself nearly die more times than he can count (oop that one time he did die lol), and suddenly the idea of kids in the future isn't tinted golden and sparkling with the memories of his childhood. He's an adult and anything could happen and it's terrifying and hard and he knows he loves what he does--loves helping people, loves interacting with children, wants to teach or something later for sure maybe--but the actual parenting is soured by the thought of his mom back home thinking her son is dead and not even having the closure of a burial or anything. He learns that nothing is certain in the way he used to think it was, and stops expecting specific things for his future

Klance gets together [how?? girls idk any infinite number of ways that is every post I'll ever make until the end of time but not this one--trust though it was juicy] and they stay together while they're fighting the space war, and slowly and then all at once Keith "Lone Wolf" "Not A Family Man" "Feral Desert Orphan" "Kids What Are Those" Kogane is, like,,,, thinking about his life and his future beyond like,,, the next hour,,, and is imagining kids in the picture??? trust it shocks him too

This actually is a version of their relationship that I really like thinking about! Lance pivots on all of his hopes and dreams that he'd had all his life about certain milestones for things--marriage, kids, the white picket fence and all that jazz--and throws it all out the window. Because piloting magical sentient lions in a space war is fucking crazy and life is nothing like what he thought and what is important to him reshapes; it isn't the milestones it is the feelings they represent, the security and companionship he is seeking, the fulfillment he can find from interacting with others in different ways. Keith is the opposite; he never thought any of the milestones were important because he assumed they were for other, non-broken people. People--not him--who could have nice things like spouses and houses and children to raise in their image or whatever. And to make a long and introspective story short he gets to hold Lance's hand and suddenly all of those nice things are back on the table and he gets to want them and finds out that he does

I guess this is where it gets fuzzy for me I've seen some things where they space adopt and that's really fun and fresh

Or they wait until they get back to Earth after having the Cool Uncle Era with Lance's nieces and nephews which is my shit i love cool uncle klance

I do think I subscribe to them adopting older children out of the foster system as opposed to however infant adoption works

but any way you slice it Keith is So Pressed About Getting It Right he's reading books he's asking Shiro and then wanting to die because Shiro is So Cringe about his caretaking advice UGH

and Lance is back in a comfy phase about it now that they've decided to do it, regaling Keith when he freaks out with tales of times he and his siblings totally almost died or that crazy shit happened or that his parents did x y z totally sideways--his point being: and look how well it turned out anyway

the important thing is that when they do have children they love them more than anything and demonstrate a positive healthy relationship for them and they try to meet them where they are and also give them opportunities to grow and be happy and therefore it all works out perfect :)

Also as an added bonus here are some of my favorite depictions of dad!Klance for your perusal:

deerstalkerdeathfrisbee's True Love or Something ok these were like my earliest favorite fics ever when I tell you this raised me and reset my brain chemistry I am being so serious. They aren't dadding until later in the series [THIS ONE] but actually the whole thing is so excellent

that,,, actually is the only one coming to mind right now but people SOUND OFF IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE PLS <3 i will return to this post with more if i find any

I hope this was good for you obviously I just stream-of-conscious dumped into the text box but it was super fun to do, if anybody has any other prompting thoughts I would love to ideate more I just,,,, love thinking about them so much,,,, ok everybody have a great day!!

#ask and you shall receive #klance headcanons #dad!klance #klance #vld headcanons #my writing #nobody ever asked me for my thoughts before this is crazy #please somebody ask me something again this was so fun #ok anon ily hope this scratched your itch a little #long post

[towine]

[alhaitham/cyno] haven

assassin's creed AU / ~2k / oneshot / rated T

notes: i was looking through my writing folder and found this lil thing i started back in [checks date] oh my god may. i dusted it off, went "okay i still like this" and decided to finish it

it's an AU of the video game assassin's creed (particularly AC1), but all you really need to know is that alhaitham and cyno are both part of an order of assassins led by azar. i hope you enjoy it, even if i'm sure it interests like, -5 people. what can i say. i'm just playing with my dolls however i like

-

-

Cyno dives headfirst into the rooftop entrance of the bureau.

Instinct has him tuck into a roll as he hits the ground, but his shoulder still takes the brunt of the fall. He’s entered through the skylight dozens of times before without issue, but never with so much blood in his eyes or such a pounding headache.

He crashes near the water fountain, knocking over a water jug and spilling its contents across the tiles.

The sound of shouts and footsteps approach like an incoming stampede.

“Assassin! He went this way!”

Disorientation keeps Cyno from getting up even as his brain screams hide, hide now, they’re coming, they’re coming—

In his periphery, he sees someone vault over a table in a flash of dark robes. They hurry to the open skylight to grab a rope dangling from it, then yank the entrance closed. The sounds of shouting are muffled but still rapidly drawing closer. The roof is nothing more than criss-crossing slats of wood, letting the sunlight in.

The guards will see him. He has to move—

Two hands grab Cyno beneath the armpits and bodily drag him further into the room, away from the light. Cyno growls at the pain in his shoulder, head swimming, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“Quiet,” hisses a familiar voice. “Cyno, you have to be quiet.”

“Alhai—”

A hand claps over his mouth. Cyno breathes harshly against it, barely refraining from biting it.

Then, voices. On the roof.

“I swear he went this way.”

“He probably ran towards the gate.”

Footsteps hit the ceiling hard enough to make dust rain from it, down to where Cyno is tucked into a shadowed corner.

“Keep looking! Don’t let him escape.”

The footsteps and voices move on to other rooftops. Outside, the city bells ring in time with the pounding of Cyno’s pulse.

Finally, the footsteps and voices fade. Stillness remains for another few seconds, just to be cautious. Then the arms holding Cyno release him.

Cyno gasps and slumps to the ground, falling on his back. Lights dance across his vision.

Alhaitham leans over him, face twisted in a scowl. Cyno’s blood stains the front of his robes.

“Did you alert every single city guard to your presence?” he says. “You’re lucky I didn’t keep you locked out.”

Cyno tries to speak but the room won’t stop spinning.

“If we have to move the bureau again, I will be sure to report this to Azar.”

The edges of his vision go dark.

“Cyno? Cyno, look at me—”

The last thing Cyno registers before everything fades away is a hand on his cheek, turning his face to meet Alhaitham’s.

-

When Cyno wakes up, the first thing he thinks is, Ah. I’m not dead.

He’s lying on a bed in a small, humble room. No windows. A table, a chair, a basket of what he assumes are used clothes. The clothes at the top of the pile are bloodstained.

His clothes.

Cyno looks down at himself. Bandages, wrapped around his middle, right where he remembers a guard’s lance found a home in his side. He brings a hand up to his head and feels bandages there too. Another guard nailed him with the butt of their sword. Better that than the other end.

His assassin robes are nowhere to be found, and his bracer is on the nightstand. Cyno sits up, swallowing down the nausea that heaves up his throat when he does, and he takes the bracer, examining the hidden blade.

It flicks out without issue, gleaming and deadly. And clean of his mark’s blood.

Cyno puts it on his forearm, sighing when he does. He never feels quite right without it.

His pants and boots were left on. At least he got to keep a small measure of modesty. He rises to his feet, breath catching when he feels a sharp pain in his side. He pushes his way through the room’s only door.

Alhaitham is on the other side of it, standing at a table as he examines a map. He doesn’t look up when Cyno enters.

“You owe me a new jug,” he says conversationally, tracing over the map with a pencil.

Cyno rasps, “My robes—”

“Are hanging over there.” Alhaitham, still not looking at Cyno, points with his pencil to the other side of the room with the skylight and tiled floors and bubbling water fountain. A line has been strung up from one wall to the other, from which hangs Cyno’s white assassin robes. “That blood was a nightmare to wash out. I’ll never understand why the Order insists on white robes.”

Cyno stares at the robes, not sure what to say.

Alhaitham goes on, “Your other clothes weren’t worth keeping. I figured I’d give you some spares when you woke up.”

He’s looking at Cyno now. His is a difficult gaze to read. Cyno has never understood Alhaitham as well as he wished, but that isn’t unusual—Alhaitham is known by most to be severe and uncooperative, even to those within the Order.

He’s never been particularly warm to Cyno, but Cyno chalks it up to Alhaitham’s pragmatism more than anything else. After all, there must be a reason he’s made it to the rank he now holds: Rafiq of Sumeru City, tasked with providing missions to their assassins as well as managing this bureau, a safe haven for anyone of their Order.

Still, laundry must lie outside of Alhaitham’s usual responsibilities.

“Thank you,” Cyno says finally.

Alhaitham says nothing. A plate of figs and bread sits on the corner of his table, and he nudges it towards Cyno.

Cyno approaches and examines one fig, takes a bite. He’s suddenly ravenous.

“So,” Alhaitham says while Cyno eats, “the deed is done?”

Cyno uses his hand that isn’t holding a fig to reach down into the side of his boot, digging for the feather he knows is there. A white feather, at least it used to be before Cyno dragged it through his mark’s blood. He places it on the table, carefully avoiding the map spread over it.

Alhaitham picks the feather up by the quill, holds it to the light. Then he nods in satisfaction and sweeps away to one of his bookshelves.

“I’ll send word to Azar,” he says, “though I’m sure the ruckus you caused has sent the news to him already.”

Cyno scowls. “I had to improvise.”

“And does improvising have to involve luring the guards to my rooftop?”

“It was not my intention to endanger the bureau,” Cyno snaps. “Call it instinct that I ran here. I nearly died escaping Alcazarzaray. Something wasn’t right. The intel was inaccurate.”

“Inaccurate?” Alhaitham frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“I assure you it’s not.” Cyno sighs and rests a hand over his bandaged side. Alhaitham’s eyes flicker down to it. “It’s like they knew I was coming. You said there would be fifteen guards total. There were thirty. You said the mark would be asleep in his bedroom on the second floor. He was awake and armed. Someone warned him.”

“That’s impossible,” Alhaitham says again. “The intel came from Azar’s personal informants, he—” Alhaitham stops.

After a few seconds of silence, Cyno says, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Alhaitham,” Cyno says. The sound of it falls heavily between them. “What is it?”

Quiet. Alhaitham turns away to rummage through his shelves. “Nothing. I will just have to tell Azar to cut ties with those informants. They nearly got you killed.”

“I would not die so easily,” Cyno says.

Alhaitham returns to the table with a blank piece of parchment, and he looks at Cyno with a small, wry smile. “No, you would not,” he says.

Cyno swallows.

“Whether or not you’re easy to kill,” Alhaitham continues, and he begins writing on the parchment with a quill, “you’re not safe here.”

Cyno snorts. “Obviously.” The guards will be on high alert for at least the rest of the month.

“Obviously, he says,” Alhaitham mutters, and finishes writing with a flourish. “Are you listening? You’re not safe here. Not even in this bureau. Not even in the House of Daena.”

That makes Cyno frown. “What? Why?”

“The intel shouldn’t have been wrong.” Alhaitham rolls the parchment up and ties it off with twine. “This was an important mission. Why else would Azar assign it to the best of the Order?”

The best of the Order. Alhaitham’s praise is a precious thing, precisely because it is so non-existent. It’s a shame that Cyno feels far too confused at the moment to appreciate it.

“Alhaitham,” Cyno says slowly. “Tell me what is going on.”

Alhaitham sighs. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to leave this bureau and go straight for the city gate. Do not meet with Azar. I will tell him what you accomplished. You are going to take this—” Alhaitham holds out the rolled up parchment, “—and go to Aaru Village.”

“Aaru Village?” Cyno’s brow rises. “Why?”

“You’re going to give this to someone named Candace,” Alhaitham continues, as if Cyno hadn’t spoken, “and you’re going to wait for me to send word to you. Do not write to me.”

“You’re speaking nonsense,” Cyno says. He steps away from the table.

Alhaitham’s hand shoots out and grabs his wrist.

Cyno turns in his grip and slams Alhaitham’s arm down against the table.

The hidden blade flicks out and poises itself at Alhaitham’s throat.

Alhaitham, bent over the table with his mouth twisted in a grimace, looks up at Cyno.

“You said I’m in danger here,” Cyno says. “So why should I trust you?”

“Easy,” Alhaitham grits out. “Don’t be rash. I’m trying to help.”

“Why should I trust you?” Cyno demands. “I will not ask again.”

Alhaitham sucks in a breath, low and steady, wary of the blade. “If I wanted to kill you, why would I bother saving you first?”

The wound in Cyno’s side throbs beneath the tightly laced bandages. He glances at the figs on the table, half-eaten.

He retracts the blade and lets Alhaitham go.

Alhaitham exhales and slumps over the table. Cyno takes the parchment from where it rolled near the table’s edge.

“It’s just lying low for a while,” Alhaitham says, flexing his arm. Cyno slightly regrets slamming it so hard. Only slightly. “I’m sure you want to recuperate anyway, considering your injuries. I just recommend you do it far away from here.”

“And what about you?” Cyno asks, not looking at him. “You’re not in danger doing all this?”

Alhaitham straightens up, tugging his robes back into order. “I’ve been doing this dance for a long time. I know how to tread lightly.”

Cyno huffs. “You know, you say a lot without saying anything at all.”

“And that,” Alhaitham says, “is the way of the assassin.”

It doesn’t take long for Cyno to gather his things. His assassin’s robes are still damp, but it’d be idiotic to wear them out in the open anyway. He borrows a loose tunic from Alhaitham’s wardrobe, and a cloak to cover his head and the bracer on his wrist.

Alhaitham is waiting by the door when Cyno is finished.

He says, “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but don’t let anyone see you leave.”

Cyno nearly scoffs. “I never do.”

“Right.” Alhaitham steps away.

There’s an awkward moment where Alhaitham stands there and Cyno doesn’t reach for the door handle. Part of Cyno can’t help but feel like he will step past this threshold and never see Alhaitham again. The thought worries him, for some reason. Cyno opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

It’s Alhaitham who breaks the silence.

He says, hardly more than a murmur, “Safety and peace, Cyno.”

The customary greeting and farewell of their Order. Cyno shivers at the cadence of his name falling from Alhaitham’s lips.

“Somehow, right here,” Cyno says quietly, “there is both.”

Alhaitham’s eyes widen.

Before Cyno can think twice of it, he opens the door and steps outside. The street is clear, but only for now. He has to move quickly. There’s no looking back.

As he races for the city gate, ducking into the shadows of buildings and skirting around the main roads, a sweetness lingers in his mouth from the figs. Alhaitham’s scent clings to the shirt Cyno is wearing, as distracting as perfume. Cyno can’t shake these things loose, no matter how fast he runs. But maybe that’s okay—maybe he’ll just have to carry them.

Outside the city, he looks west to the horizon, where the desert waits.

Yes. He’ll carry them.

#cytham #haino #cyhaino #genshin impact #alhaitham #cyno #caiwrites

[claire-starsword]

Shining Force Pre Release Coverage Part 2

"Claire didn't you just say you didn't have time to look at this now" didn't I also say recently I have no self control? Exactly. Also there's not much new so I might as well just get it out of the way.

Part 1 here

This time we'll be looking at recently scanned volumes of another magazine, Mega Drive Fan. Scans are here and here. Also despite the obvious enthusiasm I sure am busy lately so I won't be pointing out everything, I'm here more for translations as you can see the pictures yourself.

November 1991

okay I lied I need to start with the most important pictures

Meow

They owe me this so bad.

Also it has its tail up like in the final unused version, I don't know what's the deal with that footage I showed at the end of the previous post.

We get a better scan of Max's beta portrait. He has no Egress, which I think I have already pointed out in the previous post, I don't know it was a big post okay. He has a short sword with a weird icon, and two iconless items (the placeholders seem to be showing the item's index): the Hex Whip from Shining in the Darkness, and, uh,

"Ring of Infidelity".

Care to explain, Max???

According to my searching this isn't any carry over from SiTD, but I haven't played that in japanese yet so, grain of salt here. I was gonna say, why is a likely joke item so early in the game, and then I remembered the bunny girl in SFII so yeah, this is regular SF dev behavior.

[Edit: I'm reviewing this now and I might have misread the ring's name, it seems like the うわき (infidelity) is directly applied as an adjective so Infidel/Cheater/Fickle Ring would be better translations, which matches the japanese name for the Hex Whip, which is something like Fickle/Whimsical/Moody Whip, but with a different word that has no "cheating on your partner" connotations as far as I know. So maaaybe it's just implying the ring is cursed and does effects of its own, but by all my searching うわき is still far, far more associated with these cheating connotations at least nowadays, so either the word's usage changed a lot in the past decades or it's still a cheeky joke name]

Also, in the previous post I was clearly too taken by Mae's smile to do my job and didn't talk about the items there, so let's talk about them, or rather it, now. Max and Mae in those screenshots have the inventory full of item index 9, "Old Medical Herb". Perhaps there was some sort of expiring mechanic for the herbs. Max also has the same Short Sword and Mae has a Bronze Lance with a sword icon.

In the final version, the indexes 7, 8, and 9 became the Legs of Haste, Turbo Pepper, and Bread of Life respectively.

The item shop has a different sign. Also it seems to be just an item shop, while in final Guardiana the item and weapon shops are combined, with two sellers.

The other magazine showed yet another item shop and sign, either these are actually different towns, or different builds, which actually they sure are given the next picture.

I have been long looking for you... I have heard of the situation. Please, you must let me join you.

While both magazine issues are from the same month, here we have Arthur portrait for this character instead of Varios, and more than that, he is joining the team, there's even another screenshot in the magazine with the "has joined the force" message. Given that this is Arthur's map sprite, and Mae has been described since the start as having a dead father, I feel this is the intended version. Perhaps Varios' portrait was done first and used as placeholder?

Also I need to correct something from the previous post. This isn't a generic NPC sprite, it's just Arthur's knight sprite. The generic centaur NPC sprites are... Arthur's paladin sprite. Like, the exact same sprite. I never looked too close so I assumed there had to be some small difference, but no, they can reuse whatever sprites they want.

Arthur is not given a profile in any of these magazines so it does feel he started as a very generic recruit. Very funny considering he's now the specialest most magical centaur in the block.

Character profiles this month don't have much so I won't translate them in full. Max is referred to as capable of using magic. Lowe is again referred to as a dwarf even though the magazine points out how similar he is to Milo, and wonders if he's an ancestor of him. No mention of Mae's personality, Gort mentioned as an old servant of hers again. Hans' bio states many elves who live in forests choose bows as their weapon because they have excellent vision. This a regular fantasy thing but I don't remember seeing it in Shining content before.

There's one battle screenshot where Max has less HP and is named Hans so I feel his battle sprite wasn't done at this point. Also I didn't bring attention to it in the previous post but a lot of these battle scenes have misnamed enemies as well, it seems this skeleton was a placeholder for a lot.

December 1991

Again Max has his final portrait at this point. He has 99MP and Blaze and Heal 4, Heal having a placeholder icon. He carries the Sword of Darkness, which has a different icon, the Power Ring, and the Forbidden Box, a well documented debug item.

Nothing new in character profiles, Guntz is again referred to as a beastman, Tao is again referred to as a forest elf unlike the others. I will again bring up that the term is used for Nigel in Landstalker, and Tao and Princess Lara there have basically the same art. Does this mean something? Likely no.

Also something I failed to notice in the previous post: at this point, Tao's shoulder gems are miscolored in her portrait. Her art is already done so I assume it's a small mistake.

Enemy descriptions are mostly the same, and again the Mimic shows up.

Again there's a section dedicated to Yogurt, which is mostly the same. It specifies he eats bugs besides berries, and says he "understand human speech, but can't (won't) talk". In the JP version he does say only a single sentence, "I don't get it", so perhaps this was dropped, or he is learning.

It is also said that he's kinda popular with the force members, especially the girls, but again no one could make him a pet. We then get doodles of his secret events, and yes different doodles than last time.

January 1992

This issue gives a good look into the beta menu icons. I won't show them all here, but the icon for putting characters on the active team shows a centaur which, really gets what the game's about i guess.

There's a screenshot with Earnest's portrait but the name is actually Vankar, perhaps his portrait wasn't done yet. Or these guys changed names during production.

On the screens showing off battle graphics, Hans has Diane's palette. That is to say, the exact same palette but pink hair.

Also not to get distracted but I took a quick look at the editor and yes, despite being one of the first characters, the archer sprites are index 9 in the data, preceded by Gong and Khris, and more curiously, Guntz and Domingo, who are at index 3 and 5 respectively.

February 1992

This one was already scanned in Sega Retro and is actually how I started looking into these things. The new scans are likely better quality though, they're really good.

March 1992

The game's released, but unlike the other magazine, early build material still slipped into this one.

"Am I being of service to you? Since I'm fighting to the ends of my MP..."

Tao had this goofy, less immersive line at HQ (remember to compare it to the final JP one, the english version is its own beast). Curiously, the GBA version changed her first line back to a question. Note also that she still has the wrong portrait here.

Veeeery small detail but there's a screenshot of the Rune Knight at the first battle talking only to goblins as opposed to goblins and dwarves. Coupled with all the screenshots we see from this battle it's safe to say the dwarves were a late addition.

Finally, minister Ward had his own portrait.

#shining force #shining series #sf arthur #sf tao #long post #'i'm not gonna be pointing out everything' as i point out everything in the post about not having self control

[inherstars]

Whatever the Fuck This Is

For my devoted audience of one, haha. Continued from here

It lay against the dead ewe like a fawn separated from its mother: legs curled under, neck extended with chin flush to the ground.  And motionless.  Eyes closed.

She whispered desperately, “Oh no, oh no,” as she fell beside it, blood soaking through the flannel of her nightdress.  She gathered the lamb to her clumsily, hefting it against her breasts when her stomach got in the way.  It was small and limp as windchimes, too cold in her arms and too still.  Too cold, too still.

“LEVI!”

Maggie tried to stand and fell back to one knee.  Her hand plastered flat in the mud for balance, shins and slippers streaked with earth and blood, her already tenuous balance thrown off by the lamb’s slight weight.

“LEVI!”

How far had some come in the grass?  It was at her hips.  Her knees.  The stubble scratched her ankles as she stumbled onto the gravel drive, confronted suddenly by a constellation of sun-browned men in chambray and denim and looks of horror.

“Where is he?” she begged as they stared.  Dumbly one of them extended an arm.  She loped for the barn, ungainly, the lamb’s legs dangling weakly from the clutch of her arms.

“LEVI!”

He sprinted out at her scream, bootheels slipping in gravel, and caught himself on the open door.  The sight of her put the fear of God into him before he could process what he was actually seeing.

“Oh my God--Maggie?  Maggie, what happened, are you--”

“Levi, please--”  The grief came out of her like a lanced boil.  He raced to meet her, hands outstretched to catch, to cradle the little body in her arms as she fumbled it at him, desperate for help but terrified to let go.  Only distantly did he realize it was a lamb.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, okay--”

“I found it in the--the, grass, the… there was a sh… a ewe, his--his Mom--”

“Okay--”

“She was dead--do you think he’s--”

“It’s alright. It’s alright now.  Give him here, I got him--”

“Can you fix him?”  She broke with another sob, emptied hands fisting his shirt into knots. “He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t moving--”

“I know--”

“But can you help him, please?”

Levi looked past her -- just once, quickly -- at the flotilla of day workers converging slowly from their line of parked trucks.  Bewildered, horrified, gruesomely amused.  Maggie touched the lamb tenderly, weeping, where it hung, draped over Levi’s arm.  The tendoned spread of his hand cradled it so easily.  It was all she could do to carry it this far, but its weight was nothing to him.

His other hand gripped her shoulder, gentle, fierce, eyes riveted on her.

“Maggie, you listen to me.”

“Please.” A mewling appeal.

“I know. I’m gonna do my best. But I gotta move quick, alright?  Can you go inside for me, please?”

“But what are you--”

His hand squeezed, emphatic.

“I promise you.  I promise you I’m gonna try.  Please just… go back inside, and let me sort it.  I’ll handle it.”

She turned to look behind her.  The men gathered more slowly, eyes bright as the morning sky blossomed  pale blue behind them.  She looked down at herself, still in her nightdress, still in his mother’s ill-fit calico housecoat, chest and belly and legs and slippers coated in red blood, brown earth, amniotic yellow.  

Levi’s hand never left her.  His eyes never left her.

“What will you do?” she pleaded.  “Levi, what are you going to do with it?”

“It’s alright now,” he hushed.  “Maggie.  I gotta move quick. Let me take care of this.  Everything will be alright.”

Her head bobbled with a tiny, weak nod, eyes glass-bright with tears.

“Promise?” “I swear to you.  Go on, get back to the house.  Get cleaned up.  I’ll come find you.”

She turned to go, a hand spread at her stomach, mustering a lift to her chin, a little absurd pride in her waddling gait.  She looked past the men as they spread out to make her a path, fixed single-mindedly on the house.  Her bloodied slippers crunched on the oiled gravel.

*******

Maggie showered and changed into one of the plain gingham maternity dresses provided by the Sisters.  She stood at the bathroom sink and used up half a bar of carbolic soap trying to clean under her nails, into the grooves of her knuckles, until her skin was ravaged red.  She dried them and went to sit on the bed.

The screen door clattered open and closed, but it was just Levi letting Fred back into the house.  The dog found her immediately, leaning into her legs and planting his chin on her lap, all sweet eyes and lapping pink tongue.  She must have spent an hour just sitting, staring, softly caressing his ears.  Time passed strangely while she waited.

At noon the laborers broke for lunch, truck engines roaring to life before they motored off into silence.  Levi finally returned to the house, his tread heavy on the porch, steps dragging as he came inside.

“Maggie?” he called, sounding his years.

“In here.”

He appeared in the doorway, leaning a forearm on the threshold, and backswept the hat from his head with one hand.

“How you feelin’?”

“I’ll be gone by morning,” she said.  He stood straighter, caught off guard. “What? Hold up, now, that ain’t why I’m here.  And that sure as hell ain’t what I want.”  He held her eyes until he was sure they had an understanding, then let his weight relax back against the jamb.  “Listen, I don’t want you to fuss about dinner, tonight.  You and I, we’re gonna go into town and do some shopping.  We’ll get something to eat there.”

Of all the ways he could have led her into conversation after that morning, she expected this one not at all.  She stared at him so strangely that he paused to look down at himself, checking his shirt for something objectionable.

When everything appeared in order, he looked to her again.

“Sound alright?”

“What happened to the lamb?”

“Lamb’s alright. Just fed her, actually.”

A girl.  That hit her harder than expected.

“Can I see her?”

“Let’s you and I head out, first.  You can see her after.  I’m sending the crew home a bit early today, and she needs to get the bottle every couple hours.  I don’t want to delay it too much.”  With an indicating nod to one side he added, “Give me a bit to get cleaned up, changed, then we can head out.”

“Okay,” she said, soft.

“You feel okay going to town in that?”  He backtracked, “Looks fine to me, I mean, I just… wasn’t sure--”

“I don’t really have anything else.”

“Alright.  Well.  We’ll get that sorted, too.”

A final nod and he left her, not even trying to call Fred to heel from his devoted press against her legs.

Continued here.

#my writing

[deldeldel90]

A lonely ten-year-old Fredrick being freaked out of the ghosts in their kingdom but ending up coming back to them due the ghosts being literally the nicest to him than everybody else has ever been.

Fredrick knows a few interesting facts and he's willing to share them, kinda liking how it feels to be apart of a conversation, to have somebody chortle at his lame jokes and... listen. Just listen.

The ghosts don't interrupt him. They don't take papers out his hands and throw them on the floor. They don't tell him that the things he cares about are stupid or useless.

They listen.

And that alone makes him shine like a sunflower caught in the summer sun's beams.

Or

A stressed-out fourteen-year-old Blaine venting his frustrations in an empty room, pacing back and forth until he hears a kindly, floaty voice ask if he's alright.

He stops, blood running cold. For a moment, a passing second, he's terrified. At being seen in this state, at being caught with his hair a mess and a smile not firmly on his face.

Only, when he looks to who spoke, its- she's not alive. She's, well, dead but- alive? Kinda? A ghost, Blaine knows about them, Blaine knows everything because he's supposed to everything.

"Oh, Mildred!" Another voice calls out, male and like old rust, strained with concern. "You've done scared the poor lad!"

"I- I'm alright," Blaine says and he tries to force the corners of his lips to quirk upwards because there's so many people (dead people) in this room and he doesn't got the slightest clue what to do in this situation. Too much. It's all too much and he needs to get out. When he opens his mouth to explain he's 100% okay, he ends up spilling his heart out.

The ghosts tisten to every concern he's got. They don't look bored or annoyed or upset.

When he's done, Blaine feels empty. Hollow. He feels like he's got his heart carved out and he... feels better because of it.

Blaine's a tired kid, an overworked boy, wants everything well and done... and when its done, and he really needs somewhere to go, somewhere he's not expected to be perfect or on time or smiley or... or like himself, he's always got a haunted room waiting for him.

Or

Carefree, chill thirteen-year-old Lance just casually talking to and befriending the ghosts, being curious yet oddly gentle, not wanting to hurt his new friends. He asks about their lives before, asks what it was like to be warriors and painters and suriviors.

The boy thinks that this is all so, so, so cool. He thinks they're all awesome in different ways and he wants to know everything about them.

There will be a time when he asks about death, voice quiet and soft like the small child he once was, but that time is not now.

Now, he's showing off what he's learnt at the academy, all the strikes and hits. He smiles wide when The Knight (Sir Malcom O. Multipattern) compliments his stance.

His silvery friends may not be the most alive bunch, but he's happy with the lot.

-

Or; let these boys be happy .. with ghosts! :)!

#cursed princess club #cpc blaine #cpc frederick #cpc lance

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 38

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

only the dead have seen the end of war by @kartoffxl [MCD]

Lance must have seen something in Keith’s face, because his expression crumpled in anguish. “You… You love me back.” He put his head in his hands. “Oh my god. You loved me. You love me. This—This is so fucked up.” “Lance, I—” “Tell me I’m wrong.” There were tears in his eyes. “Tell me we didn’t just waste all those years being cowards.” Keith clenched his fists at his sides, still reeling from the whiplash of what he had just heard earlier. This can’t be happening. “Say it!” Lance pressed. “Say you don’t love me.” Please, his eyes begged. Keith and Lance finally figure out that they’re absolutely, undeniably, embarrassingly in love with each other, just not exactly in the best of circumstances.

okay so. this is. technically. one of the meaner fics im reccing. HOWEVER. it is gaspingly unbelievably beautifully and painfully written. even the summary kills me -- say you dont love me. im begging you. im begging you to lie to me right now. as we lay dying im begging you to have mercy on me and let me believe i didnt have a chance for beauty with you. im begging you to let me die with one regret instead of millions. please. please dont let me die being loved by you. LIKE WHAT

2. Toast to Freedom by @icypantherwrites

Keith is used to more than his fair share of dark looks. What he’s not used to is seeing those looks directed at Lance for no reason that he can determine and it’s making something uneasy settle in his stomach and the heavy press of the mantle of leader weigh even heavier as he should be doing something about it but he doesn’t know what. But causing a scene will upset the alliance they need and so Keith chooses to wait it out, to address it after the feast. He should never have waited.

will never ever in my life get over to 'i drank your poison because no suffering would be worse than watching it on you' not ever. it is always so so everything. and NO ONE does it like icy panther

3. Disjointed Soul by @icypantherwrites

Lance falls victim to a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that is drawn to disjointed souls to steal them for itself. The Paladins must go into Lance's very soul to save him, uncovering truths about themselves and Lance in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful, adorable soul guides.

"Hi there baby Lance," Hunk greeted. "Ohwah," Lance burbled back. "¡Ohwah!" "Ohwah?" Pidge repeated. "I think he's saying "hola,'" Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello" in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance." "¡Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!"

this is one of THEEEE original insecure lance fics fr like it was the BLUEPRINT. 2018 there wasnt a langst loving soul who hadnt read this at least twice. its not too long for my dears w shoddy attention spans but its long enough to have quite a bit of substance!! team as family with communication and lance at the centre of it. what more do u want

4. Sleep Well, My Son by @icypantherwrites

A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.

look i love a good de aged lance fic and obviously when i was making these bookmarks i was scrolling my way thru the tag. and this one is especially amazing bc it is coran centred! this is a coran fic! this is a fic about quiet grief in the life you never got to live and acceptance for the life you have now and love for the people life has brought you!! it is about coran finding family through people who so desperately need it!! it is everything!!

5. Amigos by @icypantherwrites

A dangerous mission becomes even moreso when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection of his older self in the middle of it. Keith has never been good with kids and that certainly isn’t going to change now. Somehow though he’s got to convince Lance — who doesn’t speak a word of English and is staring at Keith with too wide, too scared of eyes — to come with him, get them both out of the Galran base now crawling with sentries alive, and then, assuming they get that far, figure out how to change Lance back.

shut up about the repeated author shut up about the same trope shut up about the. okay. i am a simple creature. i am annoying. i like to sit on my little armchair and open my little phone and read the same thing a million times. there is a Way to read fic and that way is to click on and scroll through a tag until you find a fic you like then scroll through that author and then go back to the tag and rinse and repeat. besides this fic is amazing okay i love klance but we rarely get platonic klance and its GOOD okay

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#im so sorry its late!!! my bad!!! it will happen again!!! #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #keith & lance #black paladin keith #red paladin lance #langst #bamf lance #coran #coran coran the gorgeous man #lance & coran #team as family #insecure lance #hurt/comfort #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost #kid lance #baby lance #klangst #keith angst

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

Let's Rewind! Toast watches Voltron: Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 35: Doom Boycotts the Space Olympics Season 1, Episode 36: Lotor's Clone

Episode 35 Doom Boycotts the Space Olympics I realized the text was hard to read in the long post so here's some color so you can tell which episode is being watched

wild that whoever made the choices for the space Olympics really thought hard and said "yes we're absolutely having it on Arus, where it's currently at war and has a weekly occurrence of giant fucked up robots fighting each other"

Is soccer actually an Olympic sport or is the world cup the biggest even for them?

Oh so doom IS actively boycotting the space olympics, I know It's for evil reasons but i have to agree just based on the fact THAT ITS ON A PLANET IN ACTIVE WAR AND ROUTINELY HAS GIANT MECHA FIGHTS

why are the boys in an army barrack 😭 the castle is right there is it not

Allura this is why you KNOCK walking in on the team showering in only towels is your fault entirely LMAO the boys are ragging on nanny for trying to make it their fault svsiodv woman just sit down and leave the food at this point

"I'm sorry I meant to surprise you!" "You did!" Keith that was adorable omg, I know you guys can't hear it, but his tone was the cutest

I love this show because in every other one it's hunk looking after Pidge, but originally it was Lance instead T-T He's currently very concerned about Pidge eating two kabobs at once, at least he isn't talking with food in his mouth

I'm sorry when did haggar get blueprints to voltrons wiring??

are they about to make a decepticon out of the beefed up bulldozer the team has outside to build the stadium?? Oh my god they are

man the only reason the team finds out about lotors plan is because one of the kids that was tagging along with hunk this entire time needed to take a leak outside 💀

haggar described her weird virus for that bulldozer as like a chip,,, it is not a chip it's a tiny robeast that takes over the entire machine just by standing onto the hardware i know they were making it easier to understand for kids but c'mon that had to be confusing for them, kids are real smart anyway

The boys: kid you were dreaming, nothing attached itself to the bulldozer (bulldozer proceeds to turn on and wreck their barrack) the boys: O-O guys please listen to the children, they're so upfront with everything they see its wild

PIDGE WHY ARE YOU JUMPING STRAIGHT ONTO THE BULLDOZER well at least he found out nobody was driving it UNTIL IT THREW HIM OFF, he's a gymnast (ninja) though so of course he lands on his feet anyway like a goddamn CAT

why do they always make hunk grunt like that? wild somehow they figured out it was lotor, i mean i feel like itd be obvious once they knew nobody was in it but still

OH SO PIDGE DOES ACTUALLY REFER TO HIMSELF AS A GYMNAST, THATS ACTUALLY SUPER COOL still doesnt make it any less insane that pidge LEPT ONTO THE ROOF OF THE BULLDOZER

WHY IS HE SO LONG IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT, IT LOOKS LIKE THE PASTED HIS HEAD OVER LANCES BODY he didnt even stop the thing i think lotor just told it to stop to lull them into a false sense of security

that same kid was yelling about not being listened and immediately punched the control panel with started up the bulldozer again 💀 I think you're old enough to know how to regulate your emotions my dude oh also he and two others are trapped inside now, dire stakes indeed

hunk and pidge got thrown off the bulldozer, how high up were they?? ft older brother lance again because he was making sure pidge was okay in the background

at last a lion comes out to actually do something NOT BEFORE THE BOY GOT BURIED ALIVE THOUGH WHAT THE FUCK THEY SHOULD BE DEAD

I don't think this is the first time lotor has told allura his plans for her, but it's good that he actually tells her so she doesn't get a worse idea

the team is free after allura creates a goddamn tsunami in the stadium ft MORE OLDER BROTHER LANCE BECAUSE HES HOLDING PIDGE NEXT TO HIM IN THE WATER

immediately after being freed the kids just sit there and do nothing UNTIL THEY GET TRAPPED IN IT AGAIN god this show makes so many characters stupid

all-scan?? Are you telling me you fuckers could've done that before, and you just haven't?? I'm gonna say you just recently learned it for my own mental health

the kids are out after Hunk bashed his way inside without a lion i love seeing scenes like these because the pilots are actually skilled outside of being inside the lions!

Ooh so I was right, it was a mini robeast who could interact with machines, and then it just combines with it to make it an actual robeast well they could've just said that earlier >:/

voltron is formed and definitely is spewing propaganda for the olympics but at least hes able to damage the robeast LMAO

holy shit easiest fight ever, they barely even did anything to the guy before pulling out blazing sword and skewering it

time to rebuild the stadium and gym using the lions my question is why they only gave one of those beefed up bulldozers to the team

/episode end

Episode 36 Lotor's Clone

Episode opens with Zarkon yelling at Lotor, this oughta be good lol

"quit sending robots to arus and destroy voltron yourself!" my guy how the FUCK is one dude gonna do that, you kind of need another big guy to help weaken him first

"you mean really lead? Like from up front?" "Where else you idiot!" LMAOO

I know they make the doomites robots so the show can skirt past ratings but do not give robots that much sentience and still say they're not people these fuckers were talking about defecting and living on Arus!

oh so this episode's robeast is just another lotor because he doesn't actually want to do the work HAHAHA

"but beware, whatever you know he will know" foreshadowing?

onto planet arus, the team is doing some lion training

Pidge: it feels like my head is on backwards! Keith: I always knew that! THE KID JUST FELL OUT OF THE SKY KEITH BE NICE LMAO

Pidge: did you know your nose wiggles when you're upset Keith: my fist wiggles too! KEITH PLEASE-

mystery power surge huh, at least we can tell that the castle actually has employees since they're running around trying to fix stuff

oh never mind the drules have an actual robeast that's fucking with the castle, the lotor clone is just so lotor doesn't have to do any of the work expected of him LOL

Keith has a plan but i can't remember the sleds/boats he mentions having used before with the team maybe they're just making it up to show that the pilots actually hang out on their off time fnvsdoi

"some of these parts are older than nanny!" GET HER ASS LANCE

it's good to know that the pilots are all slightly mechanically inclined, definitely a skill they gotta have to actually stay alive on Arus

Not lotor complaining that his clone isn't working hard enough for his hero image 💀 no wonder this man always gets his ass kicked

secrets out, keiths been fighting the clone this whole time and because of lotor having a telepathic argument with it, he knows it's not the real him anymore

Damn he was so offended by the clone calling him Lotor used the robeast to blow his ass up 😭 Keith's right, this was his only chance at winning

did they just fix up that sled thing to not actually use it?? What a waste of time oh never mind lance is using it while the others use the lions

"if you're gonna lie around the beach all day I'll come back later" i don't think any other show can replicate the absolute sass dotu lance brings

I like that hunk is the defacto leader when its him pidge and allura, I know allura has no experience so she wouldn't be but i wouldn't be surprised if they tried to pull something like this with pidge lol

voltron is formed, haven't seen lion head attack in a while so it's nice to see it back man that robeast just stoof there and took the beating, are they just giving up at this point soidns

ooh scene reuse, this is definitely from the bridge episode that i cant remember the name of, everyone is joking about how another clone of them would be good for the universe lol

/episode end

#voltron #voltron defender of the universe #voltron dotu #80s voltron #let's rewind! #toast talks #depression got hands #thats all i gotta say about my absence lol

[demcnsinmymind]

@mslangermann moved from here to convert to beta

Deep down, her shriek seemed to pierce right through Lance's bones, shook him to his core. On the outside though, there was nothing else but wrath about his body. Hot, white, insane rage. Ozzing right out of him like a spinning invisible typhoon. Making that skull on the pavement crack harder and harder the longer he was forced to look at it, though it was more than obvious that this man was very dead by now. It kept crushing anyway. Thankfully, it was then that Lynn finally chose to listen to Lance's previous plea, slammed her foot on the gas, started driving away. Veering around the other vehicle that was trying its best to keep them boxed in.

But its best was nothing compared to that wrath that was still coursing through Lance's body as they passed that car. Truth be told, the host didn't even quite know just why his hitchhiker had gone so quickly off the rails. From mocking, making fun of the situation to....this. Utter carnage.

Dead body on the ground in the distance. One car....no two cars suddenly a tangled and crunched up mess behind them. The occupied one T-boned by the other driverless vehicle of a dead man. Even as he looked in the rearview mirror, mad eyes glued to that bleeding body in the ground in the distance, Lance could see that it was still at it. Pressing the two men and their vehicle further and further into a building wall with the dead man's car, keeping them pinned, crushing them as Lynn sped away from the scene. Leaving behind nothing but a screeching, howling mess of blood, flesh and metal in the distance.

Metal.

Now he remembered. That short glimpse of a holster. A gun at the guy's hip, glistening in the sun.

This guy could've shot them. Lynn. Him. If this man'd been Murkoff, if he'd been with whatever it was that scared her...he could've...

But what if he hadn't been? What if those had been cops? What if it hadn't been about anything but a busted taillight? Or the fact that he was in fact, an asylum escapee, one the cops were still on the look out after all? One who was wanted for murder? Murder he'd let happen all over again, right back there just now? Letting it crack and crack and crack a skull wide open. Not unlike the sounds he'd forced out of that goddamn kid when he'd wrapped his hands around his throat and...

This...right here. This was enough. Enough to shock Lance. To anger him, not it. And it certainly was enough to snap him right out of it. Because no. It was enough. He started bombarding this thing with his own fury and need to talk to her until he successfully wrestled back control from it, looked right at her with an entirely different expression on his face now. More himself. Worried. Apologetic. Despairing. And oh so fucking...

"...sorry. I'm so sorry you had to see this. 'That' was fucked up and I don't even know where to fucking begin explaining any of it. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Please tell me these guys were Murkoff and that this means the situation was fucked either way, that this didn't just..."

Shit, fuck. Get it together, Preston. All of this just scared the crap out of this woman. An innocent woman who gave you a ride. All of this is new for her, not for you. Don't make it worse for her. You can always freak out later.

"Are you okay?" he asked once more, firmer, checking, voice and look on his face steadying, softening. Breathing getting just a little bit steadier when he noticed that it didn't look like it had touched a hair on her head at least, that she seemed to be just fine.

#mslangermann #lynn tag pending #he made me do it : possessed #demons on the run : outlast

[proceduralpassion]

Night of the Comet

Day 24 of Narcoctober- Create a fanwork about a character turning into a supernatural creature.

Character(s): Werewolf!Walt Breslin x Reader

WC: 609

A/N: Werewolf!Walt here we gooo

Walt could barely stand to catch his breath, leaning on all fours with his chest heaving. His hands were no longer his hands, but rather transformed into rough claws that would eviscerate his prey. The sense of his nose had elevated tremendously, and his snout was raised up sniffing into the night air. 

His prey was near.

Walt takes off in a run, his frame effortlessly lancing through the rocky terrain of the ground, avoiding dips and jumping over humps of elevation. Twigs and branches scratch at his body with the same intensity of the cool air that whips past him in his hurry. He’s too focused on catching his prey. Nothing else matters. 

He quickens his pace even as he got closer to what he’s looking for. Civilization fades away and suddenly, he’s alone in a quiet grove pocketed within a heavy expanse of trees. The moon is the only source of light and he uses it to his advantage. 

Without warning, Walt’s lithe body is pinning down his prey without mercy. He ignores the tortuous cries for its life, the wails of pain, the frantic movement that suddenly stops as its neck is snapped. But then, he looks down and realizes that his kill is you.

Your eyes are staring into his soul with the same terrified face as you were being killed. He gasps and realizes that he’s no longer on four legs, but rather on two, leaning on his heels in his position above you. Blood covers the lower half of his face from the reckless abandon with which he eviscerated your neck. 

You’re dead. He’s killed you.

His lungs are like fire and it feels like an eternity when your eyes finally remove themselves from the sight of a broken you.

The blood on his hands has disappeared.

He’s in his bed instead of on the ground and he’s drenched in sweat, rather than covered in blood. 

You touch his chest and Walt jumps.

“Babe, what’s wrong? What are you doing up?”

With every word, he’s moving farther away from you. He’s fallen off the bed and skirting closer and closer towards the wall. You go to speak again before he’s cutting you off.

The boom of his voice stops you from moving off the bed, “Stay away from me! Get back!”

“B-babe..” You try again.

“I’ll hurt you! You need to stay back.”

Tears roll down Walt’s face and that scares you even more than his pleas. 

“I’ll kill you,” he whimpers.

“Walt, honey, I think you had a nightmare. Everything’s fine. You’re not gonna hurt me.”  Your voice is soft and your hand is carefully placed out for him to take. 

When Walt dared to glance at her, he watches the frame of her face through the moonlight as their only source of illuminance. He looks down to your neck, finding it intact and without blemish, much less fractured.

“You’re okay, honey,” you coax, “Please come back to bed, Walt. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

His breaths dial down from their shuddering motions to more accommodating leaps for oxygen. His hand is still hesitant as it falls into yours but he still takes it and returns to bed.

You bring a hand to his face, running slow circles through the expanse of his head while his other hand traveled to his chest. She felt his heart rate leveling out, but kept it there, knowing how grounding it was for him.

You look into his eyes, like the many times you have before and assure him of the one thing you know he’ll never do.

“You’ll never hurt me, my love. I trust you.”

Click here if you wanna be added to the taglist! Taglist: @drabbles-mc @asirensrage @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord

#narcos mexico #walt breslin #walt breslin x reader #narcoctober

[sugar-random6]

Little late night writhing dump:

Ships involved: Klance(?)

-

Lance woke up, it was the dead of night, no one else was awake. He grabbed a small globe he kept with him, it was a planet, that was blue and green floating in the middle of a glass stand. It reminded him of earth so he picked it up, his twin sister loved snow globes, it was sorts the same thing so he picked it up to give to her. He put on a light jacket and some slippers and walked outside of his room, he walked aimlessly, appearing at the control hub. The ship was on autopilot or something like that, pidge had explained it but he had ignored that. He set the globe down, and sat on the ground, looking through the big screen on the ship. It showed the galaxies and star systems outside of it. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and it shocked him at first. Now, he made it a hobby to come up and watch them at night.

He soon heard footsteps behind him, he turned, seeing the red paladin behind him. He waved, the black haired male waved back, both exchanging an awkward greeting, soon the red paladin left. Lance shrugged it off, Keith was never the most social of the group, he continued looking at the stars. Soon the doubts and anxieties came up, it was like a weight in his chest. It came and went. Each time more painful then the last, his memories swirling, wondering if he'll never see his family agian, wondering if it was the worst decision ever, to leave his family, without warning, and go into space to fight some kind of alien? What if he didn't survive. What if he never made it back, what if his family didn't even want to see him when he came back? Or they were captured, or they didn't remember him- the possibilities were endless. Each time seemingly worse then the last. He curled up, looking at the reflection in the globe. Everytime he looked at it guilt panged his heart, his worries reruning in his mind. He sighed, shaking his head. This was something he didn't want to think about. He grabbed the globe and got up, heading to the common room, where he found Keith, Keith was in a peculiar position, he was sitting but had his hands behind his head, like those tornado drill positions you're in. "You preparing for a tornado? Or is the insomnia getting to you?" He joked. Keith looked up, his purple eyes glowing with rage. Lance blinked "oh hey man- I was just joking-" he saw a tiny of purple behind Keith. "What's that?" He pointed to it, Keith recognized what he was pointing to and hid it more behind his back. Lance saw this as a challenge, he out his globe down and went to try and reach for the mysterious object, Keith put up a good fight. Lances hands were being grabbed st the wrists, whatever it was, Keith didn't want Lance seeing it at all. Lance smirked at this. "What? Is it like a gift from your girlfriend or something?" Keith immediately was flustered and let go of Lance, as Lance quickly grabbed the object, pulling it out into the open. It was a... Knife? He looked at Keith confused, who snatched it back. "What's the markings on it? It looks cool" Lance said. Keith didn't buy this, he glanced at Lance with fiery eyes. "None of your business! That's what it is. " he growled. Lance looked at him apologetically. "Hey sorry man I didnt-" "just- don't bring it up to anyone okay? Especially not Shiro." Keith hissed, there was a tang of sadness and loneliness in the boys eyes. Lance sat down next to him. "Don't worry captain red, my lips are sea-led" he smiled, "do you know what the marking is?" He asked, curious. "Its-..... " Keith had whispered something. "What?" "It's galran.. " he repeated. "Oh really? Did you swipe it from a sentry or something? Looks too bad-ass for them though." "It's the only thing I have left from my mother.. " "really?" Keith nodded, waiting for Lances reaction. But there was none. "So your mom was a bad-ass galran? That's pretty cool if you ask me." He smiled. Keith was shocked. "Wait- you're not upset?" "Why would I be? You're still the same Keith I knows the hot tempered Red Paladin, it doesn't matter what species you arex you're still you". They sat in silence for a few moments, Lance thought he had messed up, but then Keith hugged him. He was shocked, but eventually hugged back. The silence grew comfortable for the two. And next thing they knew they were talking all night long.

The next morning Hunk awoke. He walked into the common room seeing as it was on the way to the kitchen, he was Shiro wrapping Keith and Lance with a blanket, both of the asleep on the couch, Lances hand on Keith's back. Shiro noticed Hunk and turned around, putting his finger to his own lip. Hunk smiled, seeing the two getting along finally was great, him and Shiro shared the moment, finally they should be done bickering.

That's all for this late night dump c:

Not as good as the original I had thanks Tumblr for deleting it. But it's pretty okay, let me know if you guys want more of this style stuff!!

#Spotify #voltron #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #live laugh love #vld #keith kogane

[jalapenobee]

Hiii I wrote something angsty again (kinda)

Right here

Summary: Lance goes through… some things. Keith shows up to help.

663 words

The first thing Lance noticed was the shotgun in the corner, resting on a side table meant for living rooms. The second thing was the rows of cattle, hanging upside down from iron racks hung high on the walls.

They were… dead. Why were they dead? Lance had only seen cattle that were alive, always trotting slowly across the fields whenever he went out to watch them.

Lance’s breathing became heavy and he felt dizzy looking at all the cattle. He stepped backward and rubbed his eyes, trying to prevent tears from falling. “Papa, why did you bring me here?”

Ernesto sat in a wooden chair in front of Lance, chewing on a piece of jerky slowly while staring coldly at his son. He leaned forward to be level to Lance’s face. “Stop your foolish whining. You need to learn how to take over this place.”

As Lance confusedly protested, Ernesto sighed and sat back in the chair. Just like his mother. Always going against me. “You will be a man soon. Learn to get used to this, because it’s about to become a lot more familiar.”

He got up, walked to the other side of the room while beckoning Lance to follow. When he reached the center, he stopped at a short table and stooped down to pick up a machete that was lying on it. He ignored Lance’s gasps and turned around to face him. He held out the weapon to the six year old in front of him. “Take this.”

Lance looked mortified. “But…”

“Take it!”

The child quickly reached forward to retrieve the machete, stumbling at the sudden weight in his hands. It was by far the heaviest thing he had carried. As much as he tried to back away, Ernesto yanked on his wrist, dragging him to a cow at the end of a row.

“Cut.”

“What?”

“Cut the fucking cow, boy.”

Eyes burning with tears, Lance stumbled back and dropped the machete. He rubbed his eyes with one small hand and flailed around the other in a fruitless attempt to balance himself. He toppled over, landing on his bottom, wailing.

“No! I can’t do it!”

He continued to cry, trying desperately to get himself under control, for fear of what his papa would do to him. He had good reason to be scared.

Ernesto sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time today, snatching the machete from its place on the floor. He rested the flat side on his shoulder, staring with a grimace at the blubbering child. He rolled his eyes and swung the machete in his direction with a blank face, waiting for the satisfying “splurt” of metal and flesh.

———

Lance shot up, his whole face drenched in sweat and heart pounding, so, so loud. He tried to make himself hear anything else as a distraction. He settled on the sound of Keith’s breathing, a breathy comforter from next to him at two in the morning.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lance let out his own breath, insanely relieved that the nightmare hadn’t been real. He slowly slunk back into his previous position, pulling the blanket over his neck to fend off the cold he didn’t realize was feeling. In the process, he pulled the blanket off of Keith, aiding the other boy to stir and sleepily blink open his eyes, gazing at Lance’s silhouette.

“Lance? You okay?”

The silhouette nodded, and sunk into the bed next to Keith. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lance heard a small huff, then the shifting of his boyfriend. “Another nightmare?”

He tried to think of anything, training, Hunk’s cooking, Shiro’s terrible shower singing, to escape reliving the slaughterhouse scene, squeaking out a small “yes” before he couldn’t think of anything else. Lance felt arms wrap around his waist, a face buried in his chest, fluffy hair grazing his chin.

“I’m right here if you need me.” A voice whispered into his chest. “You know that, right?”

Lance nodded through small tears. He did.

#I’ve been wanted to write this for months #could’ve done better but I wanted to post something sooo #enjoy tiny scared lance #my fics #voltron #lance mcclain #klance fic #klance #keith kogane #langst fic #langst