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okay-victoria · 3 years

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What do people think of Tanya? AKA: Actually, a lot of people agree with Lehrgen

Summary: WHOOOOO BOY. You know it’s going to be fun when my subsections have to have their own subsections. Briefly, there is the Good [people who like Tanya both personally and professionally], the Bad [people who like/love Tanya professionally but not personally], and the Ugly [people who ideally, Tanya will never speak to, look at, send mail to, or be in the general vicinity of ever again].

I would say most people fall into the “Bad” category - they recognize her value as an officer, sometimes to a worshipful degree, but on a personal level range anywhere from thinking she’s a creepy child to actively disliking her. Unfortunately for Tanya, the people that fall into the Ugly category are as a rule higher-ranking than the ones in the Good category, and most people in the Bad category seem to like her specifically in her military role, and it is questionable they’d want her as even a coworker outside of that, let alone as a friend.

The Good

People who’re in here: People who have only ever heard of Tanya in the context of the Silver Wings award, people she interacts with in the Imperial Navy; rando soldiers; someone kinda high up in the later-war Eastern Army command; Ugar

People who only know her from Silver Wings:

V1/C1

Describes the nice aura people would see in someone who wins the Silver Wings.

The Navy

V3/C2

A naval officer does assess Tanya as having a predatory look, but doesn’t seem to think particularly badly of it, he just notes it, and then says “Degurechaff was a fellow soldier he could be proud of, which was why he extended his hand in utmost seriousness to wish her well.”

Rando Soldiers

There’s no real good single quote on this, but over time Tanya comes in to reinforce various units and leaves behind various impressions, ranging through Good, Bad, and Ugly, but anyway, there almost have to be low & middle ranking officers and soldiers who are presumably nothing but grateful to Tanya for rescuing them, even though we never get much of anything from their perspective.

Others

A superior officer of Tanya’s in Eastern Army command, in V5/C1, gets a transfer request for Tanya’s unit and reflects he is sad to be losing her.

Ugar - I don’t have down any specific pieces, but IMO it comes across in the LNs that Ugar is generally well-disposed to Tanya and doesn’t have the positive professional/negative personal thoughts that most other people close to her do.

The Bad

People who’re in here: Tanya’s academy/war college instructors, the 203rd battalion & later Kampfgruppe, Zettour, Rudersdorf, Generic Superior Officers, Romel, Lehrgen’s professional opinion

Tanya’s Academy & War College Instructors:

V1/C1

Tanya’s zeal during academy scares her instructors.

V1/C4

The instructors scrawled “abnormal” across the top of Tanya’s file.

“In the academy, we were told over and over – and, for some reason, over again – to love our troops. Weirdly, now that I think about it, I feel like they emphasized this the most when talking to me.” <= Tanya...you’re...you’re so close.

V1/C5

Mentioned that some teachers in the academy are on Lehrgen’s side of the What The Fuck Do We Do With Tanya debate.

V3/C5

Romel’s summation of her personnel assessment notes that at least on paper, the academy and the war college gave good overall evaluations of her.

203rd Battalion:

V1/C3

[Visha] “The moment she turned her icy cold eyes on us like we were objects to be appraised, I shrank from her in spite of myself. People might laugh at me for being afraid of such a little kid, but those eyes reminded me of the way a cat looks when it’s playing with a mouse, which creeped me out”

[Visha] “I was different from Lieutenant Degurechaff, who could calmly nail fleeing soldiers in the back with optical sniping or explosion formulas. I was relieved because I wouldn’t have to shoot.”

V1/C5

[Visha] “Was she an agent of the devil or of God? It had to be one or the other. Ahh, I can’t believe I have an ally more horrible than the enemy. She’s not human. I would bet my life on it. Me and a few others saw it once. During training, one of our teammates dropped like he was dead. The captain gave him a good kick, and before we knew it, she was back on his feet. I had been staring into the abyss of death myself…the captain heaped abuse on me. But I know, I saw it: she charged into the avalanche to save me. Even after my friends told me that she tossed my busted body aside like a used rag, I believe. She is definitely a good commander, even if I’m not sure about her as a human being. Of course, we all laugh and bad-mouth her…if the captain is an apostle of God, then only the devil can possibly exist.” <= in good news, Tanya, you are currently winning on your quest against Being X and mostly making people believe that he’s the Devil for allowing you to exist!

V2/C1

[Weiss] also refers to Tanya as a vampire

[Weiss] thinks Tanya is arrogant

[Visha] “her thought is That’s so low, Major.” <= this is in response to Tanya pulling out her child voice to announce they were going to bomb Dacia’s factory.

[Weiss] “Weiss has only known her for a short time, but even he can pick up the displeasure his superior doesn’t bother hiding. Her mood is as dangerous as nitroglycerin. When Weiss quietly takes a step back, everyone discreetly follows suit. Nobody wants to be so close to Major von Degurechaff when she’s irritated.”

V2/C5

[Grantz] “If the devil exists, it has to be our instructor, the commander of the 203rd Aerial Mage Assault Battalion, the legendary Major von Degurechaff. The way she smiled. The way she looked at us like we were maggots. The way she seemed thirsty for blood. I’d believe she had tried to kill a rebellious underclassman or crack his skull open. If I screw up on the battlefield, she’ll definitely kill me. That’s how threatened I felt by the instructor who just had to also be my advisor…I wanna cry.”

[Grantz] “This was the major who had once said during a speech at the academy that deadweight should be killed…This is crazy. No one said it aloud, but it was the look on everyone’s faces. This was a nighttime mission to abduct enemy soldiers…Magic Second Lieutenant Warren Grantz realized he was shaking. My survival instinct was screaming. I wanted to avoid the war, the combat, the killing. I was hesitating. But one glance from Major von Degurechaff was enough to subjugate that instinct. She was far more terrifying…I was so terrified I hardly felt like myself anymore…How could the major just calmly sing a hymn?”

[203rd banter] Visha asks if anyone wants to trade places with her so she doesn’t have to be with Tanya all the time, and Weiss and Grantz are not itching to take her up on the offer.

V2/C6

[Grantz] Is really, really bothered by how chill Tanya seems to be about Arene.

V2/C7

[Weiss] Reflects on all the horrible things Tanya has put him through, but ends his reflection on the note that he understands why it was necessary to prepare them for war.

V3/C5

“Apparently, the troops serving directly under her thought she was a great field officer” <= Romel re: Tanya’s personnel file

V4/C5

“‘Please have the 203rd be part of your Kampfgruppe. All of us in the battalion wish to continue serving under you.’”

Tanya doesn’t get what she wants, is then pissed, and it gives off weird abusive-parent vibes where all her children try to flee and not be present, and for the ones who have to be (Weiss & Visha), they take it by flinching, cowering, praying to God for Tanya not to explode, etc.

V5/C4

[Visha] “Reality is far too unreal. She’s crazy. There’s something strange about her...The colonel cackled – no, she giggled, smiling like a child. It was positively surreal to see her eyeing the enemy with her tender gaze and licking her lips. She snickered, but what was so funny? She was terrifying...Dripping red liquid. Pink things that used to be humans, flying everywhere. And opposite that scene was a beaming little girl. It was so surreal, it made more sense for me to suppose I had gone insane. No, maybe I really did go insane. The sight of my superior officer nodding with satisfaction and beginning a confession of her faith was horrific. I didn’t get even a glimmer of madness from her beautiful, innocent eyes. They were the eyes of a stubborn servant of logic, full of pure reason. But that’s what was horrific: those eyes stuck on that doll-like face.”

V5/C5

Tanya has some good banter with her Kampfgruppe soldiers and it seems like everyone’s getting along.

V8/C4

T: ‘Are you saying you throw yourself into the slaughter purely, justly – sane and sober? Don’t make me laugh. That’s a broken man talking. Going to war after downing some liquid courage with a grimace is much more human.’ He frowns for a moment, perhaps thinking to argue back, and then whines, ‘So are you drunk, then, Colonel?’ <= yes, a random officer from Tanya’s Kampfgruppe just asked if she was drunk and that’s why she’s always throwing herself into battle so excitedly.

V8/C5

T: ‘Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant.’ V: ‘Thank you, ma’am. That said, I would have rather you spared me from getting caught up in that attack.’ T: ‘What choice did I have?’ V: ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Serebryakov puffs her cheeks out in a pout, which is surely a sign that she’s feeling better. <= Tanya, Visha wanted you to apologize, not excuse yourself, damn!

Zettour

V1/C5

“He doesn’t know whether they should praise her original ideas or call her insane.”

“Apparently, she hasn’t forgotten that she once said she wanted a battalion. She, a first lieutenant, to a brigadier general…something liable to provoke antipathy? She’s already done that.”

“The smirk on Tanya’s face reminds Zettour of some unpleasant rumors he’s heard about her.”

V2/C5

Zettour both remains horrified that Tanya was able to speak so frankly about a world war, yet he is sympathetic to the fact that she could do it because she understood what would happen.

V4/C3

Tells Rudersdorf that he “unwaveringly trusts” her military decisions.

V4/C5

Tanya comes to Zettour to request better units than he’s given her. He finds the request beyond arrogant, seeing as how pressed they are for men, especially for the fact that this is shortly after the Moscow situation and her battalion has “gone too far and been a handful”.

“Somehow, he didn’t think there could be that many damaged kids in the Empire like this young teen back from the battlefield. And actually, regardless of how he felt about it as a soldier, personally, the idea of interacting with them was terrifying.”

“But Degurechaff was unfazed and inquired about their experience with killing people. She saw people as products, and she was asking if they had been tested – that was the nuance. Could such a completely utilitarian view of people even be taught? Certainly, the army is an organization that pays attention to individual functions. Substitutability and cost consciousness are two factors hounding everyone. But can you really judge a human being by those criteria alone?...That innocent face and her straight back made her look something like a surreal doll. Doesn’t…Doesn’t anyone think this is strange?”

Zettour is mentioned to have originally had the same doubts about Tanya as Lehrgen, but after her performance he claims he is ready to “swallow any pill, no matter how bitter” (I think working with Tanya being the bitter pill) to win the war.

Zettour gives Tanya a little discretion to commandeer some equipment, she takes a lot of discretion. Zettour sort of laughs at off saying “this was Degurechaff” but does also mention that Tanya’s actions “amounted to a borderline interference in Supreme Command.”

V8/C4

Zettour is impressed with how Tanya has trained Grantz and thinks that if she wasn’t so good in the field, he’d put her in education.

“Sure, Degurechaff may have been broken, but not as an officer.”

Rudersdorf

V2/C1

Rudersdorf says that Tanya has a “distinct” [read: probably means difficult] personality, but if he just divided people into useful and not useful, she was useful.

V4/C3

Zettour and Rudersdorf debate Tanya, and he mentions that he only thinks she is talented in the military realm.

Generic Superior Officers

V2/C5

Tanya has a misunderstanding with her CO on the Rhine front. He wants her to train some new recruits normally, she mistakes it as saying “well, kill as few of them as possible, but do what you gotta do,” she gets kind of reprimanded over it.

V3/Intro

“Performance Evaluation: Major Tanya von Degurechaff:

Counselor’s Notes on character and conduct [this is printed normally]: Abundant loyalty and excellent fighting spirit. Follow regulations to the letter. Devoutly religious.

[this part is handwritten] Has a bad tendency to take matters into her own hands. Competent but as difficult to handle as a mad dog.”

V3/C1

“Some of the officers even added another thought in the back of their minds: Major von Degurechaff might actually be able to wring out even better results.”

V3/C3

Tanya goes wild on her base commander when he won’t let her sortie to Brest to prevent the French army from evacuating. <= Oddly, IIRC, no one ever like, apologizes to Tanya for not believing her, which is kinda rude, so mostly the incident reflects negatively on her instead of being a balanced: ok she did violate some rules, but...maybe if we’d listened to her we’d have avoided the rest of the fucking war, so seems like it might have been called for?

V3/C5

“The most important evaluations during a war are the ones from the battlefield, and those were all over the place.” <= Romel, re: Tanya’s personnel file

“The second was that although the evaluations were contradictory, she had achieved enough that she was considered an outstanding soldier. Awkwardly, regardless of how she was as an officer, as an individual mage, she was thought very highly of. Her number of kills was among the highest on the Rhine front.”

“In any case, strictly as a mage, she was unrivaled. As an officer, too, she was by no means incompetent. So they must have been giving her to him as reinforcements and as an excuse to get her out of their hair. Honestly, he felt like they were foisting off their problem on him. ‘They’re telling me to take a mad dog out on a walk with no leash?’ He let slip a complaint. Maybe it was just prejudice, but that wasn’t what it felt like to General von Romel. After all, he was basically being asked to bet on a bad hand.”

V4/C2

Everyone on the General Staff realizes the huge amount of fallout from Tanya attacking Moscow. The backstory of this is that when Tanya asked for permission, the General Staff thought she was just going to do a fly-by and freak them out, not attack the city. It pretty much kills any opportunity they had to negotiate a quick settlement with Russia in the cradle.

Romel

V3/C5

Romel’s first meeting with Tanya pretty much goes: “so arrogant it’s invigorating...unbelievably insolent...in addition to her self-important attitude, it exuded heavy sarcasm...not only was she arrogant, she was clearly horribly warped.”

“Any commissioned officer would understand just from hearing her make that one comment why the Northern and Western Groups couldn’t control her. Having a mage battalion drop out of the command structure was almost like losing a whole division” <= ie, Tanya’s previous superiors must have really disliked her to give her up.

“She simply decided she would be a patriot if it was good for the nation. In short, she’s a capable lunatic, but the bad part is she doesn’t realize she’s twisted…She’s crazy. And competent. And more sincere than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Without a doubt, she’s going to end up being the most horrible person I know. And she’ll probably also be one of my most reliable friends on the battlefield.”

V3/C6

Romel reflects that she is a mad dog, and that she is an ego-crushing entity for the average officer. <= while Romel never brings this up, this has a *ton* of important real-world implications for Tanya, especially assuming men still have more than a little trouble listening to women outside the military. Even if you believe the best rumors about Tanya, you still might not want to hire her because she’s going to be better than you, and most people hate that feeling.

V4/C1

Tanya goes to the Eastern Front, and Romel reflects that he is sad to lose her and that once you got used to her, he found her easy to work with.

The Ugly

People who’re in here: Lehrgen’s personal opinion, Some wartime randos, OG Eastern Army Command, OG Northern Army Command, Imperial Government, people who mostly know Tanya from her Arene reputation, Western Army Command; Implied Future View of Tanya

Wartime Randos

V1/C5

“Some of those who had been on the front lines had a strange reaction to the name [the 11th Goddess] we picked. They claimed it was the worst joke they’d ever heard.” <= ie, Tanya was the Devil, not a goddess

V2/C1

Tanya is happy that Dacia has zero airpower. She displays her happiness by smiling maniacally and skipping around her tent. Everyone thinks Tanya is happy that they just got invaded again and the war is growing and she can go kill people.

V2/C5

A kinda random infantry guy is still having nightmares about Tanya in like, 1960, and reflects back on how he felt when he heard Tanya casually call for friendly fire to go right through where her men are flying. He questions why anyone listens to her.

“But when I replay the memories in my mind, I can’t help but shout, You monster! A hero, a star, and outstanding magic officer. You, ma’am, were a great officer. To all of us imperial soldiers serving on the Rhine lines, you were a god...Yeah, she’s a god – an immensely powerful one who presides over life and death. Her words, brimming with a spine-chilling anger, swept over the area as if she was planning to attract all the enemy hostility like moths to a flame. Major von Degurechaff had bared her fangs. It invited a violent reaction. The Republic wanted to hunt the devil. In other words, they devoted all humanity’s wisdom to killing the god of death. Gods don’t die, but those of us next to them? …They were right to call her a god of death. She killed the enemy, and the enemy killed our men. Then the noble major, with a glance at all the dead in the mud, took her leave. Fucking hell.” <= and you thought Lehrgen hated her. But, again, real-world implications of this could very well be that post-war, Tanya is a total persona-non-grata as someone that had a high degree of influence on how rabidly everyone fought against the Empire, and how the Empire was treated in the aftermath. I don’t make it out quite that bad, but it could be really rough if someone wanted to make it that way.

V4/C5

“The Guard Division had been on many assignments dealing with formal events, so we had experience…But what is that? That absurd, expressionless, doll-like creature was giving orders to people who appeared to be bloodthirsty mages just back from the war zone.”

“Could it really…could it really be possible for a child to wear such a smile?...Her hands were soft and would have looked more natural holding a doll, but instead, this odd, human-shaped creature spread her arms as she delivered a welcoming address. No one. None of the high-ranking officers present could raise an objection to this thing. The veteran mages all obeyed this inhuman being in the form of a person.”

OG Eastern Army Command

V1/C5

“The members of the eastern army had been openly angered by her annoyed look until days before, but now their faces were pale. She said exactly what she thought: ‘Incompetent, pitiful, lazy, arrogant, unprepared, mentally disabled, inattentive, no powers of observation’ and her conclusion was that ‘all mages of the Eastern Army group require reeducation’”

“The ranking officers from the regional field armies who had come to protest ended up bearing the brunt of the General Staff members’ critical glares.”

OG Northern Army Command

V2/C3

“With no idea when Colonel General von Wragell might explode in his seat at the head of the table, Lieutenant General and Chief of Staff von Schreise was inwardly annoyed, but at the same time, the atmosphere was so tense he wanted to bury his head in his hands.”

“Schreise couldn’t be the only one thinking that he would have thrown her out immediately if she weren’t a representative of the Central Army’s view.”

“‘You’re very humble, aren’t you?’ one of the staff officers murmured, curling the corners of his mouth into a smile that was more of a sneer.”

“Schreise had never seen a major with such a big head without making light of him…without hesitating even a little, she – a mere battalion commander – matter-of-factly gave her opinion to the staff and even had the audacity to disagree with them. Even with the sacred, inviolable General Staff’s power behind her, she was nearing an inexcusable challenge to authority. A head could be allowed to swell only so far. There’s a limit to what can be tolerated, even for recipients of the Silver Wings Assault Badge!...the major, though still rather new, was readily crossing a line of which all graduates from the war college should have been aware.”

V3/C5

“There was a pile of especially severe criticism from the Northern Army Group. They said she was transferred after voicing a clear objection to those in authority.”

Imperial Government

V2/C5

Tanya sinks a Commonwealth vessel, she is court-martialed, the military says she did nothing wrong [which I agree with], but the diplomats want to punish her to appease the Commonwealth. After the not-guilty verdict, Tanya’s smug-ass smile makes everyone go: umm...should we really have let her get away with this??

V4/C2

She then further makes the diplomats hate her over her Moscow raid.

V4/C3

Rudersdorf warns Zettour that Tanya going overboard is earning Zettour criticism from the government.

V4/C4

During her second court-martial, Tanya doing the most in Moscow manages to fracture the relationship between the government/supreme army command & the guys more in charge of the day-to-day war, like Zettour & Rudersdorf.

International Post-Hoc View on Arene

V2/C6

“They gunned people down like they were so many targets in a firing exercise. They got ‘points’ for shooting people. People had blocked themselves in, so they used heavy-explosion formulas to bombard whole districts. Those are all painful memories of the tragedy being shared today. Even counting only the confirmed deaths, the city of Arene lost half its population that day. In order to avoid the heavy responsibility for each soldier that would result if they went into the city and had to visually confirm their targets, they aimed to cause widespread fires via artillery bombardment from positions surrounding the city. A portion of the documents shows that they had chosen targets that were likely to spread the flames as proof-of-concept for firestorm.” <= the reporter doesn’t know this, but Tanya is the person that comes up with that proof-of-concept for creating a firestorm, as well as the person that creates the case to make it legal to repress a civilian revolt with a military. To me it seems like Arene is presented as the Tanyaverse Bombing of Dresden, except how it would be viewed if Germany had won WWII.

Tanya thinks about how if the Empire loses, her reputation is in the toilet if it becomes known that she did this.

Western Army Command

V2/C6

[The Lt. General or above that is in command of the Western Front] “A terrifying report or a proposal from hell. The one who thought of this was either a lawyer so cunning the devil would invite them to join forces or a criminal. This way of thinking is practically inhuman. Only a devil who forgot their reason and conscience in their mother’s womb could come up with such a tactic. That someone would equate having the technical capabilities for an operation with actually doing it…Are they deranged?”

“Luckily, an army corps commander summoning a mere major is extremely rare. Exceptional though it was, it meant there was a chance he might have to summon this monster again someday…Doing his best not to look directly at the monster straightening her posture in front of him, the army corps commander accepted that it was for work and met her.”

“The principles behind the actions of this major in front of him were impossible to understand using anyone’s logic or emotions. Her inorganic eyes compelled you to conclude that her thoughts, her frameworks, her way of being were all warped.”

This guy keeps going on and on more than I have here, tbh he’s one of Tanya’s main haters. It’s fine Tanya, it’s only the guy in charge of Western Army Command, who listens to him?

“I hope no one noticed that I just flinched, thought the army corps commander, sensing that he was distinctly afraid of her…No worries about what? He deeply wanted to ask what she was planning to do, but he held back. He told himself it was surely better not to know…But there is probably no one more suited to being a soldier than you. Perhaps you feel at home in hell on the Rhine front.”

V3/C5

“The Western Army Group declined to evaluate her, saying her good and bad points neutralized each other, so it was difficult to rate her. Furthermore, she had attempted to resist orders.”

Implied Future View of Tanya/The Parable of the Salamander

V4/C5

“From what I heard, the Salamander is adorable and very clever. If you show it affection, it’ll get attached to you. Like a German shepherd, it can become a trustworthy member of the family. Sometimes it begs or plays tricks, but apparently, everyone ends up overlooking these things. Of course, Mrs. Legen grew angry and screamed that it went too far, but…Well, in the end, everyone doted on the Salamander. Because when it’s even more reliable than a German shepherd, how could you not? At some point, though, the Salamander’s requests and pranks grew to be too much. But what do you think happened when no one was sympathetic to dependable Mrs. Legen, who had continued to angrily scold it the whole time? That’s right. No one was able to stop the Salamander! Of course, the Salamander loved and cherished everyone. But sadly, there was no one to teach it right from wrong. So the Salamander never realized that everyone disliked it. Soon it had exhausted everyone’s patience.” <= for reference, Tanya commands the Salamander Kampfgruppe; this is told as a cautionary tale that Andrew says circulates throughout the future Empire.

Your Author’s Take on Tanya’s Reputation vs Reality

The above should have real-world implications for Tanya’s personal life as far as friends, and for her career both within and beyond the military once the war is over, because, you know, people talk. Anyone who phones up an old pal because said old pal had some quality time with Tanya and they’re curious what she’s like is probably not going to receive a glowing personal recommendation, and the higher up those people are in society, the worse it is likely to be.

Even for people who think she has a genius applicable beyond the military sphere, outside of extreme circumstances people generally don’t want to employ anyone, no matter how smart, who is known for being unpredictable, uncontrollable, arrogant in the extreme, abusive towards coworkers, manipulative, possibly just straight up evil, etc etc. Within the military, after the war I would expect her to be hampered by the fact that a lot of people won’t want to work with her unless there’s a really pressing reason they need her skillset.

I can’t believe I’m bringing this show up from years past, but she’s sort of in the same position as Dr. House from the TV show - famously talented; famously toxic in the workplace; only one place will employ him, and at a much lower salary than his reputation should command, and even so, thinking that he could get away with that in real life is pushing the suspension of disbelief for the show. The same goes with friendships - very few well-adjusted adults are willing to befriend The Cool Asshole in real life.

When it does happen IRL, those relationships usually aren’t healthy & happy, and can easily end up with borderline-emotionally-abusive undertones because the follower is afraid of losing the leader, and molds themselves to fit what the other person wants so as to be an unchallenging, uncritical presence in the life of their idol.

For a story about an adult man reincarnated as a young girl fighting in magical WW1.5, YS manages to put a surprisingly interesting twist on the Main Character is a Cool Asshole Without Consequences model, with Tanya getting away with it in the present due to extreme circumstances, not realizing that the war is the only reason she’s getting away with it, and facing many implied future consequences for it.

While it’s entirely possible and often completely necessary to handwave Tanya overcoming this for storytelling purposes, as you can’t go many places story-wise if Tanya is as screwed as it sounds like she’s going to be, standard reality is that she’s gonna need to do some serious legwork to dig herself out of the hole she’s in, both personally and professionally.

I appreciate that the crux of a good Tanya story is often Tanya thinking normal reality will apply to her but then bypassing normal reality to end up somewhere she never intended on being, much to her chagrin, and readers therefore may feel adhering to realism violates the reality of Tanyaverse.

For the purposes of this story, I have chosen to stick with where the preponderance of evidence leads and apply a good amount of normal reality to Tanya, because that is exactly what allows me to proceed along a different avenue of Tanya misunderstanding things and ending up somewhere she never intended on being, keeping to the spirit of Tanya stories. Plus, Tanya doesn’t seem very intent on growing as a person in the absence of consequences and I need my character growth drivers.

...and I can’t avoid admitting I still end up handwaving some portion of those consequences for Tanya, since, as stated above, it’s...hard to go anywhere with a story if you don’t.

#LN Reference

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izlaria · 3 years

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Someone you like (part 6)

This is the final chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Special thanks to @rueitae for betaing this chapter and to @onlysilvy for being a darling this whole time. Your support means everything. Also, sorry, Rue, I have no self-control.

Summary: Lance falls in love with Pidge on two different occasions. They eventually figure it out.

25 and 23 years old

The end of Lance’s first year as an MFE fighter saw him standing in front of Pidge’s room, wringing his hands. Anxiety clawed at his chest, but he had made up his mind to finally confess his feelings. With the anniversary of Allura’s death fast approaching – it was only two months away –, both Keith and Hunk had advised him to either spill his guts soon or wait for the new year. Lance had taken this to heart.

His work in the Garrison didn’t put him in direct contact with Pidge, but the two of them always made up excuses to see each other after hours. They would spend evenings in his apartment, playing video games or watching movies, or they would go over to Shiro’s for a round of Monsters and Mana, enjoying how excited Curtis got over the storylines.

Most of the time, Lance felt like they were already a couple, with how much they bantered. Even Veronica assured him that they were insufferable. So, every day it got harder for Lance to control his instinct to pull Pidge to him and kiss her, to finally let her know how much Lance wanted her in his life, forever.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

Before Lance could make up his mind to knock, the door slid open to reveal Romelle. She stood there with a hand on her hip, her blonde hair pinned in a bun at the top of her head.

“You do realize there’s a sensor on the door?” There was laughter in her voice. “And a camera. I’ve been staring at your distressed face for almost five minutes.” Alarm must have flashed through his expression, because she snorted. “Don’t worry, she’s not here right now.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Romelle,” he said with little-to-no enthusiasm. The girl continued to grin at his misery, stepping aside so Lance could walk into the room. “When did you even get here?”

She moved to the bed, where several books were scattered around, and plopped back against the pile of pillows. Around the room, machinery parts and clothing pieces battled for the floorspace. It was an aspect of Pidge that never changed, the organized chaos of her room that no doubt reflected that brilliant mind of hers.

“Keith stopped by Altea to pick me up. Hunk wanted me to bring some produce from that quadrant, because Colleen’s last harvest was apparently jeopardized by a flood a junior botanist caused.” Romelle shrugged. “Katie didn’t know the specifics.”

Her use of Pidge’s given name no longer surprised Lance. People around the Garrison usually referred to the Holts by their titles, since their ranks within the organization demanded a certain level of reverence, but many of their colleagues from the war still called her Katie. Especially those who spent their time with Sam and Colleen, like Romelle.

“Have you seen Hunk and Matt yet?” Lance took a seat on the couch. It was old and gray, but comfortable enough. He and Shiro had dragged it into Pidge’s dorm after one too many nights of eating dinner on the floor.

The blonde shook her head. “Hunk and Shay are grabbing me for lunch and Matt is busy with his girlfriend.” She leaned against the headboard and, although her posture remained relaxed, the look in her eyes spoke of mischief. “Katie said I could chill –” she made quotation marks with her hands – “here while I waited, but if I’m interrupting something…”

Lance gave a spastic wave of his arms that probably did nothing to deny her suspicions. It was just his luck that Romelle was there again. She’d already witnessed his struggle when asking Allura out and now she could see right through him.

“Interrupting?” He forced a laugh. “Nah! It’s fine! Always good to see a friendly face!”

Romelle didn’t have the skill to emulate Pidge’s unimpressed look, but being best friends with Matt had certainly helped her get close to it. However, she also didn’t seem invested enough in his drama to pry, going back to digging through the books.

“I’m sure it was not

face you had hoped to see,” she commented nonchalantly, still looking down at the different covers. “Alas, it is what it is. Katie is in a meeting, so you might as well keep me company.”

Lance frowned at her, but chose not to follow through with the subject. “What are those books for?”

“It turns out that an education based around the teachings of a megalomaniac prince did not actually cover as much astrology as I had hoped.” Romelle looked down at her palms. There was an edge to her smile that Lance was sad to recognize as self-deprecation. “Hunk helps with what he can, but Matt and Katie are the real connoisseurs, apparently, so they gave me some material from when they were younger.” She heaved a sigh. “It’s a lot.”

“I’m really proud of you.” Lance smiled at her, a little awkward. “Allura would be, too.”

“What? Where did that come from?” Romelle made a face at him, but she was smiling as well. “I am simply trying to do my best. There is a lot I don’t know.”

“Yeah, but you’ve done your best since I met you and it’s always been enough.” Lance shrugged, shifting his gaze to the whiteboard that hung over Pidge’s bed. The equations there meant nothing to him. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to stop Lotor or Honerva. Besides, the Holts are very selective of the people they like. They don’t just take on hopeless cases.”

Romelle blew out a breath. Their eyes met tentatively, as they were both embarrassed by the situation. “You know, it is surprisingly easy to forget that you are a good person.”

“I’ve been told,” he deadpanned, much to the Altean’s amusement.

“Look, I do not need you to cheer me up. I appreciate it, but you can keep your compliments for Katie, who we both know would enjoy them more.” Even as she said this, it was clear that Romelle felt a little better. She picked up one of the books. “If you want to help, just quiz me on chapter ten.”

Lance got up from the couch to accept the book, grinning when he recognized the title. “Hey, I know this one!” He sat back down and flipped to the table of contents. “Yeah, I had to read this for a summer course I took when I was fourteen. That’s when I met Hunk,” he added for Romelle’s benefit.

“Hm, funny, that one is Matt’s.” She kneeled on the bed to look at the cover. “And there was one of Katie’s ribbons in it, so I believe she also read it.”

“One of her ribbons?” Lance frowned at her in curiosity. He had never seen Pidge carry ribbons around, but what would have been a ridiculous image in their teen years was now utterly charming. It was lovely to find out these small details about her.

“Yes. She used them to mark the pages when younger. There, there!” Romelle pointed to the book until Lance reached a page where a green ribbon laid across the words. She grinned. “Isn’t it adorable?”

It was.

At the same time, it reminded him of the difficulties Pidge had undergone during middle school and how she had only had Matt and her parents to rely on. Had she read her brother’s book as a way to escape the words of her colleagues? Or had she loved space so fiercely even then that her time of leisure was spent going through Matt’s training material?

“Do you think this is when their little feud over color-coding started?” Romelle broke him out of these thoughts. She had opened another one of the books and was flipping through the pages absent-mindedly. “I swear to the moons of Cobturg, if I have to listen to their arguments about this one more time, I–”

There was a beep and the door to the room opened once more, shutting Romelle up at once. Pidge took a second to look them over, before dropping her purse down at the coffee table.

“Why do you look so guilty?” She narrowed her eyes at Romelle, who let out a noise of protest, as if to say ‘Who? Me?’.

Lance went to her rescue. “She was telling me about the ribbons you used to collect.” He held up the green fabric, grinning. “Who would have thought? Our Pidge Gunderson was actually a normal, little girl once.”

Her hair was short again. It looked different, though, more put-together than the hairstyle she had used during their time in space. He supposed her responsibilities in the Garrison demanded a more polished appearance, but he kind of missed the disarray.

She looked very pretty like this. In fact, the overall effect of her wide-legged slacks, light-blue blouse, the hair and the boots left him feeling a little dazed.

Pidge rolled her eyes and made a grab for the ribbon, but Lance stood up and pulled it out of reach. She almost lost her balance from his sudden movement, putting a knee up on the couch to keep in place.

“Did you really come in here just to test my patience?” she asked, still standing in front of him.

Lance clicked his tongue playfully. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing you blush in anger.” He waved the ribbon around, smirking. “You make a beautiful tomato.”

“She’s more of a strawberry, really,” Romelle pointed out from her perch on the bed. She gestured towards her face. “It’s the little dots.”

“Those are called freckles.” Pidge pushed away from the couch and towards the Altean. “You were supposed to be studying, not ganging up with Lance to bother me.”

Romelle’s face dropped into an impressively effective look of anguish. “But it’s boring to study by myself.” She grabbed Pidge’s hands, swinging their arms lightly. “You promised I could do your hair before I left!”

Pidge glanced at him over her shoulder. Whether it was because she thought Lance might help her or simply because she was mortified by the idea of doing something so girly in front of him, he couldn’t tell. Before he could intervene, however, there was another beep from the door, then a knock.

“That must be Hunk,” Pidge declared, jumping away from Romelle.

The blonde rolled her eyes, but slid out of the bed and opened a small panel on the wall, where a screen was hidden. From behind her, Lance could see Hunk and Shay talking on the video feed.

“Saved by the bell,” he heard Pidge mutter under her breath.

“Aw, come on, Pidgeon.” Lance aimed a shit-eating grin at her, knowing it was easier to taunt her into things than to simply ask. “Now I want to see you looking all primped up!”

The girl did not back down. She puffed up her chest, lips set into a line, and turned to face him fully. “You’re supposed to be on my side here!” Then, in a lower voice, “I don’t want to set miss excitable over there loose with a brush!”

“I will have you know –” Romelle waggled a finger in the air – “that everyone in our crew thinks very highly of my styling skills. Is it not true?”

She whipped around to prod at her two teammates, who had just been let into the room. Hunk looked doubtful, but Shay nodded her head solemnly.

“Her hair is widely regarded as the most luscious and well-kept of our ship,” Shay declared with all the straight-faced earnestness that could be expected from a rock-person.

“She and Hunk are the only ones who have hair!” Pidge threw her hands up in frustration.

Lance felt himself chuckle. He barely ever got to see the interactions between this group. During his time at the farm, the only occasion when he saw everyone together was on the day they celebrated the end of the war. It hurt a little to think of all the events he’d lost while in Cuba or on his travels.

“How much harm can she really do?” He approached Pidge and ran a hand through her hair, letting the ends curl around his fingers. “I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”

Pidge eyed him carefully and, though her countenance betrayed nothing, Lance was sure he’d felt her shudder at his touch.

“My hair is too short to do more than stubby ponytails,” she continued her objections. “It would be far from beautiful.”

“I don’t know…” He gave her a wink and, this time, red flooded her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing anyone could do to make you not beautiful.”

“I changed my mind.” The interruption froze him in place, hand still on the nape of Pidge’s neck. “Get me out of here,” Romelle said to the other two, ignoring the glare Lance sent her way. “Before I scream.”

Hunk choked out a laugh. “Elle, you haven’t seen the worst of it.”

Lance pulled his hand back quickly. He hadn’t meant to act so impulsively, not in front of their friends at least. The only excuse he could find was that their antics had filled him to the brim with affection and now it spilled out, untamed.

“Don’t you three have a lunch to get to?” Pidge pushed her glasses up, moving away from Lance and further into the room. She stopped by her bedside table and fiddled with a tablet that had been lying there.

Surprisingly, Romelle let her avoidance pass without comment. She gave Pidge a long look, before voicing her agreement. “I’m taking these two to that coffeeshop you and I go from time to time.” There was something strangely emphatic about how she was speaking. “They have a new dessert I want Hunk to try and replicate.”

Pidge tensed, still not looking up from the tablet. “You mean the one we discovered with Allura.”

Lance and Hunk shared a look of confusion and dread. From the way Romelle’s expression twisted, it didn’t seem like that kind of despondency was what she had been trying to evoke. And Shay, bless her heart, appeared to be at a loss and kept shifting her gaze between the four of them, waiting for an explanation.

“Should we go, then?” she asked, uncertain. Romelle gave a quick nod and turned her face away from them. The frown she sported appeared out-of-place in the usually bright Altean.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Pidge had sat down on her bed and her eyes zeroed in on Romelle. “We can talk more then.”

The two girls nodded at each other.

As they traded goodbyes, Hunk sidled up to Lance, giving him an all-enveloping hug. They had talked earlier that morning, but Lance’s impending confession put him out-of-sorts. It was a nice hug, another aspect of the Garrison life that he’d missed: his friend, the support he gave, his unyielding belief on the people he loved.

Hunk held him in the hug for a second. “Don’t let her get away, dude.” They separated, but his friend kept going. “Not like this.”

And then he and Shay were gone.

Romelle stopped at the door. She turned to give Lance a considering look. “You mentioned Allura earlier. Wherever she may be, she would have wanted nothing but your happiness.” Her eyes shifted to something behind him and Lance could almost feel Pidge’s uneasiness at the stare. “That goes for the both of you.”

The door closed behind her, leaving those last words to hang in the air.

“Will you tell me what that was about?” Lance crossed the room to sit by Pidge. He poked her knee until she looked up at him.

“Can I pretend that it was just Romelle being Romelle?” Her eyes were sad as she said this. He almost gave in, but his worry spoke louder than his sympathy.

“I might not know her as you do, but I doubt Romelle would say anything to hurt you.” He grimaced. “Not intentionally.”

“Intentional or not, I just think she’s meddling where she’s not wanted.” The sharpness in her voice made Lance flinch.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I am sick of people acting like they know what’s best for me.” Pidge wrapped her arms around herself. It was such an uncharacteristic gesture for her that Lance wasn’t sure what to say. “I am happy. Who is she to doubt that?”

“Your friend?” he offered, keeping his voice soft.

Pidge normally handled obstacles with a bull-headedness that most feared. She and Romelle had this in common, the fierceness that had sent them travelling through the galaxies to ensure justice was made for their families. His friend couldn’t see the hypocrisy in her claim that the Altean was being meddlesome when Pidge’s own curiosity had often led her to intrude on other people’s matters.

She was a very private person and almost completely indifferent to gossip, true, but she went above and beyond for what did spark her interest.

“Romelle being my friend gives her the right to question my judgement?” Pidge sent him a fulminating look, before turning her eyes away.

“A little.” Lance chuckled to himself, despite receiving an elbow to the side for his answer. “C’mon, don’t act as if you guys didn’t question my actions after the war!”

“Aren’t our circumstances a little different?” Her voice was dry as the Arizona desert. “It’s not like I’m burying myself in work or something. I just…” She forced out a breath. “I’m satisfied with my life. I have friends and my family is safe and I’m respected in the Garrison. What more does she want from me?”

Lance just looked at her. In many ways, Pidge was right. She was still very young, despite having lived through so much, and there would be time for adventures or romance or whatever Romelle had wanted for her.

Still, the notion caused something to ache in his chest. He wanted Romelle’s words to be about him.

Since his return, many of their colleagues had insinuated that there was something more between him and Pidge, and Lance had allowed it. He loved her sincerely, but he’d spent the past year swallowing flirtatious remarks, afraid to scare her off. The rumors about them had seemed like a good way to put the idea into Pidge’s head, even as she grew more and more upset with the comments.

“She mentioned the coffeeshop because she wanted to remind me of a conversation we had when we first went there,” Pidge confessed as the silence stretched between them. “About something I wanted all those years ago.”

“What was it?” Lance frowned at her.

“Nothing that matters. I couldn’t have it then and I can’t have it now.” She didn’t look away from him, this time, and their locked gazes sent electricity down Lance’s spine. There was a heaviness in her eyes that made them look dark, even in the well-lit room.

Lance reached for her hand, pulling her arm away from her middle and onto his lap. He played with her fingers; the ribbon lied forgotten over his thigh.

“Pidgeon, I’ve never known you to give up on what you want.” He smiled at her, feeling a wave of fondness shoot through him. Her hand twisted in his grip, as if she’d meant to close it into a fist.

“I thought I was over it,” Pidge whispered, more to herself than to him.

Lance worked his jaw, hoping he hadn’t misinterpreted the look she was giving him. He could swear her eyes had lowered to his mouth for a fraction of a second. It made his whole body feel hot, like a burning star had settled in his chest and turned the blood in his veins into pure heat.

The implication was not lost in him. Had Pidge liked him back then? Had that affection survived the years of his self-imposed isolation?

“I think –” he started, eyes unable to leave her face – “that some things are worth the wait.” And then, without breaking eye contact, Lance lifted Pidge’s hand to his mouth and kissed her pulse.

The reaction was instantaneous. Color rushed up her complexion, an uneven redness that Lance had taunted her about in their younger years and that now seemed disproportionally attractive. In this bubble of heat they created, Lance felt he could see her brilliance clearer than ever.

Pidge was beautiful, not only because of how she looked, but because of who she was.

Because he was looking so closely, Lance could tell the exact moment her bewilderment dwindled. Her eyes hardened, her mouth curved down.

“Can you not?” she snapped, shaking away his grip to stand up.

“Not what?” Lance stared at her back as fear welled up inside him.

“Not stand so close. Not touch me like that.” Pidge waved her arms around as she spoke. “Not get my hopes up when I know you don’t mean it.”

“How could you possibly think I don’t mean it?” It was his turn to sound indignant.

“Because you’re loverboy Lance! You go after these bombshell women, with their long limbs and their poise…” She struggled to finish her thought, groaning. “I don’t want to be another one of your conquests!”

“Is that what you really think of me?” He felt angry at the possibility. This was Pidge, someone who should know Lance better than the average, Voltron-show-watching acquaintance. She knew he hadn’t really gone into relationships in the past few years, still healing from Allura’s death.

“I don’t know what to think.” She stopped moving, letting her arms hang at her sides. Despite the defeat in her stance, when Pidge looked at him, there was pride in how she held her chin. “I know who I am. I am intelligent and brave and reliable. But I’m not nice,” she said the word with a hint of repulse, “or patient or charming.”

“Of course I know that!” Lance had to hold back a grimace. That hadn’t come out quite right. “But you wanna know what else you are?” He didn’t wait for a response. “You’re the girl who always called me out on my bullshit. The one who has saved my ass more times than I can count, who helped me study for my piloting exams.” He lowered his tone, calming down a little. “You’re the girl who came to meet me at the farm every month to bring all the games I had missed in the US.”

Pidge still didn’t look completely convinced, but she didn’t dodge him when Lance approached.

“The releases always came out late in Varadero,” she interjected with a frown.

He laughed at her excuse. “You came because you wanted to make sure I was okay. Then, after I was done wallowing, you were the one who flew out to meet me in Greece and Korea and Chile.” He took her hand, feeling more confident. “And every time we met up, it was like my body relaxed. Ah,” he acted out, “I’m finally here. With my best friend.”

“That’s just it, Lance. I’m your friend.” Pidge studied his expression with furrowed brows. “You may be feeling – I don’t know! Moved by how close we’ve gotten?” She shook her head. “But I was in love with you for three years before I could accept that you’d only ever have eyes for Allura.”

“We’ve talked about this, Katie.” He kept his grasp on her hand, even as Pidge tried to move away. She had grown uncomfortable with his use of her name. “I did love Allura, but she’s gone. I deserve to go after what I want, too.”

“And what you want is me?” she sounded unconvinced.

“How can you be so smart and still so dense?” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “Everyone sees it. Hunk, Shiro, even Keith!” He sighed. “Even Romelle. Today, she wasn’t making fun of you or scolding you or whatever that exceptional and traumatized brain of yours came up with.” Lance had to hold up a hand to stop her from interrupting. “Romelle was trying to encourage me.”

Pidge stood there and, although she was quiet, her eyes remained sharp. Lance feared that he’d gone too far, but he knew rationally that Pidge had already exposed all she had to say and that it was up to him to erase her doubts.

He raised his unoccupied hand to cup her cheek. Pidge’s eyes fluttered shut.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “How can you be so sure that we will be fine after this?”

Lance leaned down to press a kiss against her eyelashes, then her cheeks, then the corner of her mouth. He heard her inhale sharply and hold the breath. Feeling her reactions to him right under his palm was a kind of inebriation he’d never experienced before.

“I know,” Lance let his lips drag against her skin, “because I’ve committed myself to seeing you happy.” He put some space between them so that he could look into her eyes. The flushed vibrancy of Pidge’s complexion made an image that stupefied him. “Even if that means I turn away right now.”

Her hands snaked up his chest to rest on Lance’s neck, pulling him down. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he couldn’t resist asking, a smile tugging at his lips. Pidge rolled her eyes but didn’t push away when Lance rested his forehead against hers.

“Don’t go.” She was the one to kiss the corner of his mouth, now. “Stay.”

They met in the middle.

Lance felt her hands curl into the collar of his shirt as they kissed, her lips pushing softly against his. The touch was unbearably tender, starting a tingle that ran up and down his back. In return, he used the hand that wasn’t on her cheek to hold Pidge against him. He drew circles on the fabric of her blouse, thankful that it was fine enough to feel the give of her skin underneath.

Pidge’s lips moved slowly on his, drawing out the sensation of that first contact. It was Lance who could no longer curb his want and he licked into her mouth, once, twice, until she was chasing his tongue with her own. Pidge sighed into the kiss, dragging a hand down over his chest.

He’d had kisses before – soft and passionate and frenzied and meaningless –, but the feel of Pidge’s body against him and the affection Lance held for her had ignited a spark inside of him that spread heat all over. It was the star, back again, now that there were no more secrets between them.

His smile broke the kiss and they parted, panting.

“So…” Lance let both of his hands rest on her waist. The smugness that grew within him must have shown in his expression, because Pidge looked immediately on guard. “When did you fall for me?” He traced a line down her back with his thumb. “I’m pretty sure I heard something about liking me for three years.”

Pidge pushed at his chest, walking him backwards. “Not telling.”

“Can’t I convince you?” He was trying to go for seductive, but the girl merely laughed.

“Don’t you have more pressing matters to focus on?” She continued to move them until Lance’s legs hit the edge of the bed. He blinked down at her.

“Think you can distract me?” He shot her a smirk. Despite the more sensual undertone it carried, challenges weren’t new between them. It comforted Lance that their dynamics had adjusted so easily to this new aspect of their relationship.

Pidge gave a final push, making him sit down on the bed. He had to brace himself against the mattress.

“I’m sure I can think of something,” she said, sarcasm thick on her voice. And then she climbed into Lance’s lap, a knee on each side of his thighs.

He felt his throat go dry and swallowed instinctively. The new position put her mouth just a little higher than his, making Lance tilt his head back to capture her lips.

“You know…” His voice came out strangled. “I always did like the way you think.”

When Pidge leaned over him, the feel of her hips lowering on his almost made him choke. A more conscious part of his brain was not surprised by her boldness, but it did nothing to calm his stammering heart.

“Just shut up, loverboy,” she muttered against his lips, even as their smiles made it difficult to really get into the kiss. Laughter bubbled up in him and Lance continued to kiss Pidge as her own giggles erupted. There was joy in her mouth and in his chest and in every point of contact between them.

“Oh, I’d forgotten about this.” Lance picked up the green piece of fabric that peaked out from behind a metal plaque.

Pidge glanced up at him, but her attention quickly shifted back to the code she’d been working on.

“Mom left a bunch of books for Romelle here. I think that’s where the ribbons are coming from.”

Lance smiled. He loved how casually they’d fallen into their relationship. As a young boy, he’d fantasized about girlfriends who fawned over him and his accomplishments, but, after so many years as an intergalactic authority, he had learned to appreciate how domestic they had become.

On moments like this, when it was just the two of them behind a closed door, each preoccupied with their own responsibilities, it was their friendship that he valued the most.

“They’re cute,” he exclaimed happily.

Pidge gave him a look of suspicion. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m serious!” Lance squirmed on the bed until he sidled up to her. “My first love also liked ribbons. It’s one of the things I remember the most about her, the green ribbon in her hair.”

“Are you comparing me to your first girlfriend?” Pidge sounded completely done with him and Lance couldn’t really blame her. “Even I know that’s a no-no in a relationship.”

“I’m not comparing anything!” He waved his hands defensively.

Pidge knocked their shoulders together in teasing. They’d only been together for two weeks, but Lance doubted he would ever see her truly jealous, not due to his mindless chatter at least. She and Hunk had told him that Pidge had shown signs of jealousy during their time in the Castle, but Lance couldn’t recall them for the life of him.

It was endlessly frustrating.

“You’re lucky I like you.” Pidge lifted his arm and put it around her, burying into Lance’s side.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” He ran his fingers up and down her skin, feeling the goosebumps that formed at his touch. “Fate was kind when it put you in my life.”

Lance dipped down to nibble at her ear, then trailed kisses over the column of her neck. Pidge giggled in his arms, ticklish and embarrassed at her reactions.

“Down, boy.” She pressed a finger to his nose, pushing him back a bit. He pouted at her, trying to entice Pidge into another kiss. “Are you gonna be this tacky every time I say something sarcastic?”

“For as long as you keep finding it attractive,” he retorted. Lance knew he was being conceited, but he couldn’t help it. There was no ego-boost quite like the sounds his girlfriend made when she was underneath him in one of their beds, mouths and hands fervent in their paths.

In a quick movement, he’d captured the tip of her finger between his teeth, biting playfully. It sent Pidge into a bout of laughter, which had her pushing Lance’s face away as he continued to pepper kisses on her palms, her arms, anywhere he could reach.

“You’re so freaking silly, sometimes!” Pidge draped her legs across his, locking him in place. “Why are you trying to catch my attention, anyway?”

Lance leaned back against the headboard, putting his hands on her calves. She was still in her pajamas; an oversized t-shirt and blue shorts that reached mid-thigh. It was more skin than Pidge normally showed, just another sign of how comfortable she was with him.

“I’m a little bored.” He scrunched up his nose, knowing that wasn’t a reason Pidge would accept. She tried to kick him on the arm, but Lance held on. “Hey! I’m done with the flight plans and you’ve been on your laptop since I got here! I’ve been good!”

“You just tried to make out with me,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I was being good and now I want attention,” Lance corrected shamelessly.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him, but closed her laptop and settled it next to them on the bed. She scooted a bit closer, until she was sitting on Lance’s lap with her arms around his neck.

“So quiet,” she taunted. One of her nails scraped just underneath his ear, making Lance groan. “And sensitive.”

“You’re a little devil.” He dropped his head on her shoulder.

“I finally found a way to shut you up.” Pidge’s carefree laughter rang right in his ear. Since their days as students, it never failed to bring him a sense of accomplishment. No one could distract Pidge quite like him. “I’ll use it how I see fit.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his nape.

Disgruntled, Lance straightened his posture and caught her lips more firmly, tracing the roof of her mouth with his tongue. Pidge responded with no hesitance and her hands dug into his shoulders to hold him in.

Despite the ease with which they fit, this was as far as Lance had tried to go. Kisses and small touches and gasps that left his entire body burning. Although Pidge had gone on a few dates while he was away, Lance was achingly aware that she was still somewhat inexperienced.

More than that, he knew two weeks could not erase insecurities that were born from years watching him flirt with other girls. He felt ashamed of how crass he might have been in front of Pidge, but he had been young and stupid and copying behaviors from men he’d once admired.

He was thankful for his teammates. Lance knew he was a better man for having known Shiro’s integrity and Hunk’s warmth and Keith’s honesty. Coran had shown him there was pride in being genuine. Allura had taught him about the reality of love. Most of all, he was thankful for Pidge and how she’d kept him in line.

They parted slowly, and Lance surged forward one last time to give a peck to Pidge’s lips. She smiled in amusement.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” She ran her fingers through his hair. “We don’t have to be at Shiro’s until dinner.”

Lance checked his watch. They still had a few hours, but he wanted to get something to eat before then. He’d come into Pidge’s room at noon to find she had just woken up, and his girlfriend had refused to go out before she made some progress on a program for Chip. She’d devoured a bag of chips while she worked, but that was not real food.

“We should grab a late lunch somewhere.” Lance disentangled himself from Pidge, much to her discontentment. “And then I need to get you some fruit or granola bars or something for this room.”

“If I need anything, I usually go to the cafeteria or one of the vending machines.” She shrugged, but accepted the hand Lance offered to pull her up.

“And you have the audacity to question my eating habits.” He sent her a sidelong glare.

“You might be able to cook, but it doesn’t count when the only thing you actually prepare is pasta.” Pidge continued to rifle through the clothes on the floor. Then, not finding anything she wanted, she moved to the wardrobe. “Before entering your pantry, I had only ever seen so much tomato sauce on supermarket shelves.”

Lance wanted to defend himself, but Pidge chose this moment to take the edge of her t-shirt and pull it out. It left her in only a bra and shorts, a sight that Lance couldn’t look away from. Her breasts were small but proportional to her petite frame and her skin was even fairer over her chest, ribs and stomach. The overall effect had Lance choking on air.

Pidge laughed as she pulled a dress over her head.

“That was on purpose!” Lance accused, once he’d found his voice.

“You wouldn’t take off my shirt yesterday, so I thought I would give you a taste, then leave you hanging. See how you like it.” She went to look herself over in the bathroom mirror.

“I was being a gentleman!” He puffed out his cheeks. Pidge loved to make things difficult for him, didn’t she?

“Lance, I love you.” She momentarily turned away from her reflection to look at him. “I have trusted you with my life and my heart. Do you really think I don’t trust you with my body?”

When Pidge said things like that, it always sounded completely logical, but relationships weren’t something one could rationalize their way through.

Lance went to stand behind her, resting his hands on the line where her grey dress flared out. Pidge looked very sensible and very beautiful in the high neckline, with how it left her arms exposed.

“I think I want you to believe how much I love you,” he answered, turning her around, “before we do anything you haven’t done yet.”

Her amber eyes were narrowed as she looked at him, but Lance didn’t back down. She eventually heaved a sigh and he could tell he’d won the argument.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a sap.”

“Hey, you knew who I was before!” Lance let her walk past him and back to the bed. “You signed up for this, Pidgeon!”

“Are you ready to go?” She pulled on her sneakers, glaring at him half-heartedly. At her side, Lance caught sight of the green ribbon again.

“Sure, but I think you’re missing something.” At Pidge’s look of confusion, he marched up to her and picked up the ribbon, waving it in the air.

“Really?” she deadpanned at him.

Lance chuckled, already gathering her hair with the fabric. “I just want to see how it looks.” He tied a bow on top of Pidge’s head, snickering. “That really is adorable.”

She frowned up at him and raised a hand to feel what he’d done, then groaned.

“That’s not how I used to wear it!” Pidge protested, already fumbling with the style until the fabric slipped down her short hair.

“Show me, then.” Lance propped his chin on his hand.

Pidge huffed, but laid the ribbon across her hair like a headband, tying a knot on one side and letting the excess fabric hang loose. “There!” she stated with a flourish. “Much less childish.”

“Huh.” Lance stared at her in puzzlement. “That’s… Huh.”

“Does it look that bad?” She patted at her hair. “I haven’t done this since I was thirteen.”

“No!” His answer was hurried. “It just… looks exactly how Italian girl wore it.”

Pidge blinked at him. “Italian girl?”

“My first love. I think I told you about her.” He couldn’t really shake the familiarity of the green ribbon against her reddish-brown hair. “We met in this Space Camp I went to in Miami. Ronie had a research position there and she dragged me along.”

“You’re talking about the Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute.”

Now it was just getting freaky. Pidge, too, looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Yeah…” Lance scratched the back of his neck. “How do you know that?”

“Because my father was a lecturer and Matt was also in the research program.” She sounded just as bewildered as he was. “You’re Spanish boy.”

The two stared at each other for a moment. Now that they were talking about it, Lance could see the similarities that he’d missed so far. It was no wonder he’d always liked Pidge’s eyes; he could still remember how they shone in the sunlight.

“Are you actually Italian girl?” He sat down, still in shock.

“I cannot believe that we’ve known each other this whole time.” Pidge threw her head back, laughing. He soon joined her. The situation was just ridiculous.

“And you didn’t want me to believe in fate.” Lance grinned at her. Pidge still wore the green ribbon in her hair and the color contrasted nicely against her features. Maybe it was because he still remembered how she had been as Italian girl, but the image made him feel unexpectedly soft.

“Oh good grief,” she exclaimed suddenly, eyes wide, “I’m the reason you believe in fate!” He burst out laughing again while Pidge swatted at his arm. “It’s not funny! It’s actually awful!”

“Well,” Lance said once he was able to control himself, “at least you can stop thinking you’re not my type. I fell for you twice!”

“You fell for a pretty girl in a dress that you met when you were a child.” Pidge snorted, standing up to grab her purse. Lance clutched her hand with gentle fingers and stopped her from turning away.

“I fell for a smart girl who helped me realize my worth. Twice.” He winked. “Though it certainly didn’t hurt that she was pretty.”

Pidge shook her head disapprovingly, but still leaned down to kiss him, lips moving in a tempting pace against his. When she pulled back, Lance tried to follow.

He felt dazed by their discovery, but not completely blind-sighted. Pidge had always intrigued him, even right at the start. It had taken time for Lance to recognize the feelings he developed for her, like it had with Italian girl, and then he was already in the middle of it, too into her to stop himself from acting stupid.

It might have been the quintessence stored in him or just wishful thinking, but he thought Allura, too, would be cheering for them.

Pidge pulled at his hand until Lance stood up. She looked a bit red, a bit breathless.

“We’ll finish this later, you Casanova.” And she sealed the promise with another kiss.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #lidge #cyance #voltron #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron legendary defender #vld lance #lance mcclain #vld #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

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braincoins · 3 years

Note

Shallura&Ryoumelle SpaceMall double date!

They watched Coran leave and then the questions came at the same time:

“Does this place even accept Altean currency?” “Who even is this?”

Ryou peered at the bills Coran had insisted upon him.

“We have some GAC,” Romelle assured him. “But I’m pretty sure no one around here takes Altean currency anymore.”

Shiro folded his stack of Altean bills and stowed it away. “Well, we can at least window shop.”

It was Allura’s turn to ask a question. “Why do we need windows?”

“No, it means we can just look at things but not really buy anything.”

“Well, what’s the point of shopping if you’re not going to buy something?” Allura asked in genuine confusion.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to look and daydream,” Romelle said.

“But if you don’t need anything or can’t buy something, then why would you...?”

“Maybe we should split up,” Ryou suggested quickly. “Meet back at the food court in a varga?”

“Does this place have a food court?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a mall; food courts are required.”

“I’m sure there is somewhere to eat,” Romelle agreed. “And appropriate signage to direct us. Let’s go!” And she grabbed Ryou’s hand and hauled him off towards a store that had caught her eye.

“I’m still confused,” Allura protested.

Shiro slung an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s just enjoy the time together away from the ship.”

She smiled. “I think I can do that.”

----------

Ryou and Romelle were already seated at the food court when Shiro and Allura got there. They found them by Romelle’s waving from her seat. Judging by the trays in front of them, they’d already found some lunch.

“Oh my Goddess,” she breathed when Allura set down four bags of shopping. “We didn’t have that much GAC, did we?”

“Don’t tell me you opened a credit account at all these places,” Ryou said, sounding horrified.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Shiro told him. “It turns out there’s a store that, among other things, buys old currency. And the Altean bills Coran gave us are extremely rare and valuable collector’s items.”

Ryou’s eyebrows went up. “I need the name of this store immediately and for you guys to stay here with Romelle.”

She pouted. “Why can’t I come with?”

He blushed. “Because it’s a surprise.”

Shiro chuckled. “Swynwyck’s Surprises, that way, on the left.”

“Thank you!” And Ryou was off like a shot.

“Let me show you what I bought,” Allura said, dutifully falling into distraction mode.

“I’ll get us some food,” Shiro volunteered.

“I want some of whatever they’re selling,” Allura told him, nodding at the busiest of the food vendors. The line was long, but seemed to be moving quickly.

“Coming up, Princess.” He kissed her cheek and went to queue.

Allura pulled out a cute dress and some shoes that went with it, but Romelle noticed she was watching Shiro as she did so. Satisfied at last that he was busy, the lost princess of Altea sidled up to her cousin and whispered, “I also managed to make a few purchases when Shiro wasn’t watching.” She pulled up a bag and opened a smaller bag hiding under a light sweater, letting Romelle peer in.

She whistled quietly. “Oh, he’s going to like you wearing that.”

“Who said I was going to be wearing it?”

They both laughed as Allura hid the purchase away again.

“You really have no idea what it is Ryou’s so intent on buying for you?”

“None. I mean, there were a lot of cute clothes I saw, but I can’t think of anything I was especially fond of. Though there was one store where he was acting kind of... weird. Maybe he found something he wanted to buy for me there?”

“Maybe. I’m very curious myself as to what it might be, so hopefully it’s not anything like...” She nodded towards the bag with its hidden surprise.

Romelle giggled and blushed. “I don’t think he’d let me open it here if that’s the case. What else did you get?”

Allura continued showing off her new acquisitions - mostly clothes, but also a new comtab (for Pidge), an old comtab (for Hunk to take apart and play with, in the hopes that he’d stop taking apart various pieces of the Castle), a new video game for the console that Pidge and Lance had bought on their last trip, and a boot knife for Keith.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to give him more knives?”

“A Paladin must always be prepared,” she said.

“Level with me: You just make up that ‘Paladin Code’ stuff as you need to, don’t you?”

Allura opened her mouth to protest but Shiro had returned with two trays of food and drink, sliding one in front of Allura grandly. “For my princess.”

“Thank you, my paladin,” she replied, patting the chair next to her. “Please do join us.”

He took the proffered seat and closed his eyes to inhale the scent of the food. “Man, this smells almost as good as the stuff Hunk makes.” He dug in with gusto.

Ryou came running back up with a small bag in hand. He all but fell into the chair next to Romelle, but offered her the bag gently. "For you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she told him as she took the bag. “I’m happy just spending time with you.”

“I know, but... I wanted to. To get you this, anyway. It just... well, open it.”

The bag’s contents were wrapped in tissue paper (or something very like it), and Romelle had to pull that away before she gasped and pulled out a large wrap the color of sunlit grass and hemmed with beautiful butterfly-esque creatures. The whole thing shimmered faintly, but the material, though light, was soft to touch.

“Y-you’ve said before that you get a little chilly some mornings, especially in the spring and autumn, and this just... it reminded me of you.”

Romelle threw her arms around him. “It’s lovely! Thank you so much!” When she released him, she draped it around herself immediately. “It’s so soft!”

“It’s gorgeous, just like you,” Allura told her.

“I think that was supposed to be your line,” Shiro told his brother around a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk while you’re eating,” Ryou scolded him.

“I want to buy you something, too,” Romelle said. “Maybe something from the Earth store that Allura mentioned.”

“Just don’t get him a cow,” Shiro suggested.

“What’s a cow?”

“You don’t want to know,” Allura said immediately, shoving some food into her mouth as if doing so would wipe the memory from her mind.

“I don’t need anything but more of your smiles,” Ryou told her.

“That’s better,” Shiro said approvingly.

“Shut it or I tell them about the last time you were at a mall.”

Shiro gasped in betrayed outrage. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well, now I want to know,” Allura pouted.

“No, you don’t,” he shot back immediately. “Not if you want me to wear that thing you think I didn’t notice you buying.”

“YOU SAW?”

“I think I don’t want to know now,” Ryou said, but Romelle just giggled.

“Come on, let’s go to the Earth store and leave them to pretend to fight,” she suggested, rising from her seat still wearing the wrap. “You can pick out whatever will make you happiest.”

He was on his feet immediately. “You make me happiest.”

“I’m not for sale.”

“Of course not, you’re priceless.”

She blushed again. “Stop.”

“Maybe when you say that like you mean it.”

#Shallura #Ryoumelle #Socks writes Voltron fanfic #void-tiger

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bluedemon1995 · 3 years

Text

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!”

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

#katie holt #keith kogane #kidge #alternate realities

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loveafterthefact · 3 years

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 76: Going Home? Question Mark?

Lance, Keith, and their ‘associates’ give their farewells and prepare to leave.

Sorry for my perpetual lateness :’(

First Previous Next

Keith sits across from his mother, sipping some tea. Krolia watches him. He’s very still, waiting patiently for her to speak. He's put his circlet back on, though not his Altean clothes, as they no longer fit. A part of her wonders if he has what it takes to be a leader. He always seems so gentle outside of combat.

Perhaps a little too gentle.

“Are you going to tell me, or are you two keeping it to yourselves for now?”

“Putting it like that sort of backs me into a corner,” Keith observes. He worries his lip. “We’re very excited, but I don’t feel ready to celebrate yet.”

“Because you don’t want to feel sad if you miscarry,” Krolia concludes.

Keith nods. Guilt stings at his hearts. “Lance is so happy. I don’t know what I’ll do if-”

“You’re allowed to be happy, kitten.” Krolia pushes some hair out of her son’s face. “Thace’s equipment only goes so far. A few movements ago, we weren’t certain you could get pregnant. Now, you know you can, and you will have every possible chance of bringing this kit into the world.”

"Right..." Gazing around his freshly cleaned den, Keith’s visibly saddened. The windchimes are gone from outside; BleepBloop’s climbing towers missing; the fireplace has been cleaned and scrubbed of soot. The den is empty, like it’s never been lived in. It feels wrong.

“Keith? What-”

“I don’t want to go,” he whispers, throat tight and ready to choke him. “I want to stay here with all of you. I want to see Lance be happy and feel like himself.” “Feel like himself?” Krolai’s ear cocks, trying to understand.

“When we return, Lance will become busy again, with no more excuses to delegate so much of his work. He’ll sort through it, and give me the easy tasks so that he finds time to eat and sleep, and we’ll be together, but apart all over again. He’ll be distant, and coy, and never touch me unless we’re alone and I’ll hate it!” The young man sighs, tugs on a lock of his hair. "I know he's trying, but I don't know how to help him break out of these habits. I don't think he can do it alone, either. I don't want him to."

Krolia fixates on her son, watching his frustration over the rim of her cup. “This is my fault. No one ever told you what being a bearer means on Altea, did they.”

“Obviously I know what it means-”

“No, you don’t.” Krolia’s stare is searing. “Pregnancy is power, Keith. A good man or not, the crown prince is no different than any other Altean sire. You carry his progeny, and he will worship at your feet. He will give you anything you ask for. If you want to be his fawned-over, spoiled pet, tell him. If you want power, tell him. If you want luxury, tell him. If you want to share in his duties, tell him. If you want him to hold you, keep you close all the days of his life, tell him. Whatever you want, he will give it to you.”

“Momma. That’s…”

“That’s survival, kitten. You have power over him. He’s desperate for heirs. After your first kit, hold out on him. You’ll have whatever you want.”

“Momma, what I want is my mate. By my side. Sharing my life.” Keith sips his tea. “I understand what you’re saying. And I understand that you still have concerns about me mated to an Altean, and living on Altea. But I promise, Momma. I promise I don’t have to manipulate Lance into giving me things that I need. I can just ask.”

He waits until his mother meets his gaze. When she does, her eyes are so very sad. Sad for everything they’re still struggling to build between them. He taps his fingers against the clay of his cup, tries to find a way to explain why he’s not worried about having to ask for things.

“You know, when I first arrived, I spent the first movement avoiding everyone, including Lance. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was watching me. Asking the guards about me. He must have asked the gardeners, or was approached, because it’s the only way he found out about this flower I stole from a greenhouse.” Keith laughs. “The next thing I know this garden he built for me is full of orchids. I kept finding new blankets and pillows, uh. Puzzles. Random trinkets. Raw crystals. Snacks.

“We’re addressing his control issues, obviously, but… He was so desperate to make me comfortable, to make it easier. He cared about me even then. I don’t need to manipulate or use him to get what I need or want. Chances are he’ll give it to me before I even ask.”

“I hope you’re right. I do think better of him. But he wears the face of the species that slaughtered your father. My mate.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be blaming my uncle for that?” Keith asks, steady, completely serious.

“An excellent question, kitten. One I ask more every quintant.” The soldier woman gets to her feet. “We should go and meet your mate and your friends. It’s about time for you to leave and we need to stop by my den on our way to the Compound.”

Keith nods, reluctantly following his mother to her own den. BleepBloop is already on their ship, ready for Altea. It’s on the edge of the community. No one owns dens, or even has an ancestral den anymore. Too many people have left, or died. A den becomes empty, and whoever’s lived on the fringes the longest gets to move inward if they like.

“I have something for you,” Krolia tells him. “I suppose, in a way, you have your mate to thank for this. Perhaps you can educate him about it.”

“Okay?”

“Wait here.” Krolia ducks inside her den, coming back out seconds later with a very small wolf cub. “So your mate decided to save an orphaned wolf cub, which was incredibly honorable and respectful of him, but his mother’s companion could not find a surrogate for him, and now he needs a home. The hunter decided that since your mate saved him, you two might like to have him.”

“I-” Keith gulps. Being offered a cub is an extreme honor, especially as an outsider. And the cub is cute. He takes the animal from his mother, rubbing his ears, looking him over. “I love him already. So much.”

Not that he could turn down a wolf cub even if he wanted to. Especially not this one, the one that carries not only a piece of his mother's life force, but Lance's as well. He strokes the wolf’s midnight fur, working a tangle out of the pale blue ruff circling around the animal’s neck and down his back. The cub stares up at him with brilliant, golden eyes.

“I knew you two didn’t have the time for him, so I told Lance I’d keep him here. It was his idea to give him to you today. I guess he thought it might make going home easier.”

“It doesn’t,” Keith whispers. “But it’s still something. Stupid idiot, he’s really toeing that line between secret and surprise.” He holds the cub up to his face, smiling. “You had a rough start, huh?” The cub licks his nose. “Me too. Don’t worry. It gets so much better.” Keith smirks. “Finally someone to take BleepBloop down a peg. He’s gonna be so jealous-”

Keith’s comms unit buzzes in his pocket, a message from Adam: It’s time to go. He takes a deep breath. “Well, little one. Wanna come with me to Altea?”

The animal licks at his face again, tail wagging. Keith grins, cuddles the cub close. Yeah, he’s keeping this little guy.

Keith stalls on his way to the compound, stopping to talk to people, ask a few carefully worded questions about the political climate and what the villagers think of Lance, ask if those thoughts have spread. It’s good news. It means their kit will be a little safer.

“So… Lunch last quintant was a thing, huh?” Lance nibbles at his breakfast. He’s in Allura’s sitting room, one of the few rooms she and Lotor have deemed safe from prying eyes and ears. Meaning Lotor and Pidge searched the room from top to bottom.

Allura nods, eating as quickly and as much as her manners will allow. “It really was quite something.”

“What do you think?”

“I think…” Allura wipes her mouth with her napkin. “I think I should stay closer to Lotor and keep a closer eye on Romelle. I think you should keep an eye on yourself and keep closer to Keith.” She gives her brother a meaningful look.

“Was it that obvious?”

“No. The others wouldn’t have caught it. But I know you, and I know Keith. I could tell… Are you trying to keep it quiet?”

“For now. Keith may very well miscarry and feels too uncertain to make an announcement.” Lance sips his tea.

“And?” Allura gives her brother a pointed look. Lance sighs.

“And the longer we can hide this, the longer our child will be safe. The moment Alfor and Zarkon know, our baby’s future will be dictated to us.” Lance leans forward in his seat, expression tense. “Remember our cousin, Griffin? His son is four years old and rumor is Alfor’s already made an arrangement. Keeping it quiet means I have time to come up with something myself, or pass some legislation under the table to protect the rights of our children. We only have a few movements until the thaw, and I’ve just got ideas, nothing written.”

“Do you plan on including Nibling in that?” Allura asks, gesturing to her belly with her spoon. “Because frankly I don’t like the way Honerva’s been looking at me lately. Lotor doesn’t like it either.”

“Of course. Anyone possessing Altean blood, or under Altean rule.” Lance frowns. “How long do you have?”

It’s a more difficult question than it seems. Galra gestation is only five phoebs, their children born small-bodied, vulnerable and useless with eyes and ears still shut. Altean infants gestate for a decaphoeb and a half- three times as long. They’re born hearing and seeing, ready to learn how to walk and talk.

“Well, I’m about six phoebs along… We’re guessing six more, judging by their development.”

Lance nods. “I don’t know how long we have. I just- I want us to be safe and happy.”

“Lance…” Allura taps her finger on the table. “You don’t remember what Mother was like. She wasn’t at all how she’s described. I mean, she was kind and all that, but she was also wild and very strong. A powerful leader and presence. She didn’t die by accident, Lance. Her death was on purpose. When she was assassinated, they chose her for a reason.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Safe and happy are not available to us. Be respected instead. Be the type of leader that people will kill on purpose, because of who you are, not what you are. That’s how you can best protect our children. Be feared and respected.”

Lance nods, licks his lips. “I should visit Romelle before I go.”

Allura sighs. “I’d appreciate it if you would… I know father was lying about looking for more possible solutions. It was unusually kind of him.”

“I… had a screaming fit with him before we left Altea. I think I got through to him. Somewhat. He’s still Alfor, but he’s a slightly less frustrating Alfor.”

Allura laughs through her nose. “We must take what we can get.” She meets her brother’s gaze. “I am going to miss you, brother.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Lance rises to his feet, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll come visit again when I can.”

“So… When I make you an uncle?”

Lance grimaces. “Or when Keith makes you an aunt.”

The princess nods, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. They stay like that for a long moment, Lance standing, Allura sitting, missing each other, still in the same room. This woman, his sister, raised him, loved him, supported every one of his choices, even if she disagreed.

Sometimes, he still feels lost without her.

“I love you, Lance.”

“Love you too, ‘Lura.” Lance kisses her cheek again, slips his hand from hers as he heads for the door. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Across the hall, in another room, Lance finds an even sadder affair. Romelle is sitting by a sunny window in yet another red stone room, eyes staring into some unfathomable distance. Despite her vacant expression, she’s visibly well cared for. Her hair is groomed and braided how she always wore it before and she’s clean. Her clothes are fresh, fingernails files short and round so she can’t hurt herself.

He wonders if she still knows how loved she is.

“Hey, Romelle. I just thought I’d come say goodbye. We’re leaving today, so…”

Lance sits in the chair opposite the frail woman, disrupting his sister’s imprinted shadow. Before he knows it, Lance’s eyes are stinging, welling with tears. He grew up playing with this woman, watching her and Allura fall in love. She was so, so young when she went on that final voyage with Alfor, and she won’t ever get better. Not hoping for conversation, Lance elects to sit quietly and keep his friend company for a while-

“Are you afraid of the water?”

“I-” Lance blinks, unsure of the proper response. He takes a chance on the truth. “No, I’m not afraid of the water. I love the water.”

Romelle hums, skeptical, quizzical. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t be. You would not even be aware.”

“Beg pardon?”

“What has come to pass will pass again... the love story theirs and yours are so very fond of. Only neither of you knows it.”

“Romelle-”

“Generations of flesh give way to the rebirth of souls… The guardian waits for the descendants.”

“...I understand,” Lance lies. It’s easy, like lying to a small child, promising that there are no monsters outside their door. He stands, having had as much as he can bear. He gently squeezes the woman’s hand.

“Do not fear the water,” Romelle whispers. “Even submerged, you will still burn.”

“Good, uh.” Lance clears his throat. “Good to know.”

As Lance leaves to gather Pidge and Adam and say goodbye to Lotor, Shiro, Thace, Ulaz, and a few other Blades, he can’t quite shake the anxiety. He struggles to convince himself that Romelle is unwell, just spouting random nonsense from her collapsing mind.

He doesn’t quite succeed.

Sooner or later, Keith finds himself in the courtyard where they arrived, the ship open, revealing a number of packages- gifts and other items they’ve accumulated since their arrival. Lance is talking with Thace and Kolivan, hands animated, eyes shining. Whatever they’re discussing, Lance is excited for it.

“Keith.” Krolia turns him to face her, grips his shoulder tight. “Listen to me carefully. Are you listening?”

Keith turns to his mother, nods, holds the wolf cub closer between them, petting his head.

“You train this animal well. You keep him close. Do not trust anyone except the crown prince… There is something in the stars. I have seen it. All we can do is brace ourselves and wait.”

“What do you mean?” Keith whispers, fear trickling like ice down his spine.

“I mean that the sociopolitical strain on Daibazaal is reaching a breaking point, and none of us are prepared. There are enemies in every corner, and fools behind and beside them. You are carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire civilization in your womb. Know your place, even if it is to run.”

“I-” Keith gulps, nods. “I will… I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, kitten.” Krolia embraces her son, kisses his temple. “You tell that Altean of yours I’m allowed to visit, because I can and will.”

“Okay. Just let us know you’re coming. There’s an entry medical procedure.”

“Noted. I see your mate-”

“Ready to go, beloved?” Lance slips an arm around his waist.

“Not really,” Keith whispers.

The Altean’s smile is so, so sad and so very gentle. “Me neither. But we’ll come back soon; I promise.”

“I know.” Keith doesn’t want to ask for one more trip before their kit is born, but he imagines Lance is already trying to set up the same thing. Lifting his gaze, he spies Adam, holding both of Shiro’s hands. They’re talking quietly.

He’s not the only one breaking his heart today. As he watches, Pidge trots up to the Altean, tugs on his vest, gently whispers that it’s time to go. The look on Adam’s face is inscrutable as he nods, leans up, whispers something in Shiro’s ear before he slips away and onto the ship. The conflicted expression on Shiro's face tells Keith it was a tender confession. His heart breaks for his littermate and for Adam, who finally found each other only for them to be kept apart by duty and honor.

As the ship lifts off the ground, Lance catches Keith sniffling into his new pet’s fur, trying to hide it. The crown prince doesn’t question the cub’s presence, having known about it the whole time. Instead he just holds his husband close, lets him cry.

There’s not a whole lot else he can do. Pidge’s feelers creep over his hands, investigating them both. They hum, soft enough to barely register, sitting quiet for a moment before going to watch Altea loom larger and larger before them. They whisper quietly to Adam, who only shakes his head.

Leaving here is far harder than leaving Altea.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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marauders-map-irl · 3 years

Text

this is Not An Accident (written very poorly by me)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: R*PE, M*RD*R, SELF-HATE, R*CISM, H*MOPH*BIA

Living here, in this small, ignorant town, going to my small, ignorant high school, looking like I do, loving who I do, sucks. And that’s to say the least. For some background, I live in a small town in the countryside of Tennessee, called Greenton. I go to a high school called Cookie-Cutter, which is pretty ironic because it is much like a high school you would see on tv.

Everyone pretty much hates us here. I can’t say that I blame them, though. I hate me too. My family is the only strange family here; everyone else is pretty normal (extremely so). Everyone mocks us and bullies us. My mum is African American and my father is Irish. They both joke that we’re the 21st century version of the Brady Bunch.

There’s 7 of us, including my parents and I. I’m right in the middle of my brothers and sisters, and perhaps the most normal, but that doesn’t say much. My eldest brother is John (20), and he’s the oldest of us all. He’s mixed like the rest of us, he’s cisgender male and gay. Then comes my eldest sister, Moira (19), who’s non-binary and pansexual. There’s me next (16), and I’m cisgender female, asexual, and aromantic. After me came my trans (female-male) brother (12), Mikey, and he’s heterosexual. Lastly came my sister, Brittany (9), who’s showing signs of being demiromantic.

We’re the only people that aren’t white in the entire town, and we only came here to help dad’s parents in retirement. The town is extremely ignorant, and it doesn’t help that we came from a big city either. In school, I’m an outcast, though I suppose it’s better than being constantly bullied still. They’ve stopped all contact with me completely, deeming my lack of wanting any sexual activities at my age strange. The teachers even think I’m weird too, and as such have either called on me excessively or just stick to grading my perfect papers and not making any conversation with me if unnecessary. I tend to get perfect grades, what with having absolutely no platonic ties to anyone outside family.

That brings me to where we are currently. In math class, staring out of a window I’m somehow always seated by. The teacher, whatever her name is, is droning on and on about a group project worth half of our final grade for the year. Three people just either groaned or were making tiny grunts of displeasure, meaning I was in a group this time. This project must actually be important. I look up about 4 minutes later, when someone sits next to me and taps my shoulder. Looking up, it’s the very person that continues to poke fun at me, Jessica Kaileia. Well, Jessica, 1 of her most loyal cronies, and another nerd. Sam, I think his name is, and I recall he always eats a slice or two of pie everyday at lunch.

“Do you need something?” I ask Jessica coldly, averting my eyes quickly from her makeup-caked face.

“We’re project partners, Mckinlay. Otherwise I wouldn’t risk my wellbeing talking to you, trust me,” she smirks slightly and her cronie sniggers, but I just roll my eyes and Sam snorts.

“So we’re using last names? Didn’t think you liked your last name anymore, what with your father being a serial killer, Kaileia,” Sam says, making me hold in my giggles as Jessica shrieks.

“You forgot the part where her mum left her for a woman,” her cronie says in disgust, clearly trying and failing to conceal her own laughter.

“Mackenzie!!” Jessica says in a shriek that would rival that of Petunia Dursley.

“Watch your volume, Ms. Kaileia,” the teacher says in her monotone voice, barely glancing up from her issue of The Quibbler.

“Yes, Ms. Binns. Sorry, Ms. Binns,” Jessica says, rolling her eyes before returning to glare at Sam and I respectfully.

“What was the assignment?” I ask, wanting to rid myself of these potentially cruel people as quickly as possible.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it done by tomorrow and put your names on it. I am second in our year. Of course, I will need your first and last names, well, not yours Kaileia,” Sam states, staring at the packet of instructions and not looking up at us once.

“Yes, well I’m first so I’d actually like to do the work, if you don’t mind. Not that princess Allura and her bestie Romelle here would appreciate getting a fair share of the project,” I say, snatching the packet gently and looking it over.

“Who are they?” the cronie asks, making both Sam and I snort.

“Homewreckers one and two,” Sam says as I divide the instructions in half and give the easy half to Sam.

“Language, Mr. Avery,” the teacher’s monotone voice rings throughout the classroom and Sam apologizes half-heartedly.

“Wait, why do I get the easy part of the assignment?” he asks me offrontedly.

“Because I’m the first in our class,” I answer easily in a ‘duh’ tone, to which he nods with a slight frown.

The assignment was straightforward and easy, although to Jessica and her friend, it would be like rocket science to a 3 year old. I set to work, knowing that if I start now, my half would be done by the end of lunch hour. I didn’t pay much attention to my bullies, though them being in my peripheral didn’t support the cause at all. They were seemingly doing their nails (more like the minion doing Jessica’s nails) and talking about stereotypical popular girl things. The tiny bits that I actually heard made me roll my eyes so hard and so often I was worried they might actually get stuck.

“What’s your name? I need to know for the project,” I ask the she-devil’s minion, but she looks to Jessica for confirmation before speaking.

“Clara Maythers,” she mutters, as though the mere thought of speaking to someone as ‘abnormal’ as me scared her very being.

I nod half-heartedly before adding her name to the list and continuing the project, trying once again to ignore the ignorant bastards behind me. I turn slightly when I see Jessica forcing Clara to hold up a magazine for her to read while she blows her wet nails dry, making sure I couldn’t see them at all. When I was looking over what I had, the intercom came on and the principal spoke. Her voice shook with laughter and I’m sure her face was turned up in a smirk. It was probably another prank. This is Cookie-Cutter, after all. We’re a very stereotypical high school and I’m a very… let’s just say mold-breaking student.

“Could Ms. Alessia Mckinlay come to the front desk to be collected. There has been a family emergency,” she says family as if she doesn’t believe my strange family is one, and I’m sure she doesn’t. There’s incoherent words being said to the principal and she grudgingly continues. “Please,” and after that, the intercom cuts off and all heads turn my way.

I make my way to the front office, as asked, and am hit with sneers, sympathetic looks, and pretty much everything between hate and loathing. I’m not even able to make my way to the front office before my parents steer me away from looking in the lobby. I look at them with a mix of skepticism and worry. Principal Maera did say there was a family emergency, after all.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to look over my parents’ shoulders and failing, due to them forming a wall in front of whatever they were hiding.

“Your sister… There was an accident and…” mum cuts herself off there with a choked sob, making me look to my father for the remaining explanation.

“They…” my father then stops himself, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, either searching for the right words or not wanting to say them aloud (although in retrospect, it’s probably a mix of both).

At this point, I’m worried for all of my sisters, frustrated with my parents for not telling me what’s wrong, and attempting to stay positive and force all the negative thoughts from my head. I manage to shove through the human wall before me and my body freezes at the sight. Laying in front of my eyes is my little sister, Brittany, battered, bruised, broken, and lifeless. Her pants are down to her ankles, her rainbow underwear just past her knees, and blood is drying and caking around her…

I tear my eyes away, but they somehow end up right back at her. This time, though, I’m studying her face. It’s frozen in pain, but there’s also an air of peacefulness present. There’s bruises forming around her neck and littering her face, but I try not to focus on that. I try to focus on all her happy memories. I try to focus on her laughing as mum caught her cheating in Monopoly. I try to focus on dad hiding a grin as she stole a bit of the cake batter for my birthday last year. I try to focus on Brit. But it’s so hard. I try to focus on her happy times. But I always end up looking into her wide, horrified eyes.

My body’s seemingly on autopilot now, because I somehow make it over to my 9 year old sibling to shut her eyes properly, but I didn’t think about it. I thought about how someone could do this to a child. I thought about who could do this to a child. I thought about why someone would do this to a child.

But soon enough, a camera flashes, and then 2, then 5, and then I’m surrounded not only by my baby sister’s blood, but light from what seems like millions of phones. Soon enough, I feel like I’m under a microscope, and viscous scientists are picking apart my every move. Soon enough, I’m back to the main lobby of Cookie-Cutter High School in Greenton, Tennessee. And soon enough, the laughing, mocking, sneering, jeering students return full force.

I hear my mum crying in the background and muttering something about this being an accident. About it having to be an accident. That just makes me mad. Does she not see the freshman taking pictures of her youngest child’s corpse? Does she not see the sophomores laughing mercilessly at her and my tears alike? Does she not hear the juniors yelling at us that our whole family is a disgrace to human-kind? Does she not hear the seniors telling us that we all deserve the same fate? Does she not see my principal’s smug smirk as she watches the whole event and does absolutely nothing?

“This wasn’t an accident. How can you beat someone up on accident? How can you rape someone on accident? How can you murder an innocent child ON ACCIDENT? I get that you’re in shock or whatever, I really do. BUT HOW THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT? PEOPLE HAVE BULLIED US EVER SINCE WE MOVED HERE! THEY MOCK, TEASE, PUNCH, BUT NOW THEY’VE GONE TOO FAR!” my father is telling me to stop yelling, but I don’t hear him. All I know is that I see red, whether that be from the blood pooling at my feet or rage, I have no clue. “DON’T YOU SEE THEM LAUGHING, RECORDING, YELLING AT US?! DON’T YOU SEE HOW THIS COULD NOT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN AN ACCIDENT?!” and by now, I’m crying, but she has to know. She has to become aware. She has to stop this. She has to. “Please,” I say to no one in particular, taking my sister’s dead body in my arms and sinking down to sit on the floor.

I can’t do anything but hug my now limp sister and pray that this is just another practical joke. Hope that she’s not really gone. Wish that I could have been a good big sister and protected her.

She had so much life left to live. She was only NINE, for god’s sake! She was going to grow up! She was going to make it past the fourth grade! She was going to do well in school and get into the college she wanted to go to! She was going to be successful in her career and her life! She was going to die when she was old and senile and only after beating a terminal disease like cancer, because that’s the stubborn bastard she is. Was.

This wasn’t an accident.

#tw // rape #tw // murder #tw // homophobia #tw // racism #angst with a sad ending #writing sample

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ganymedesclock · 4 years

Note

I like that you have a more positive take on the writers' handling of Lotor than most Voltron fans. But I wanted to ask you: do you think it was unfair for the paladins to accuse Lotor of murder when the paladins themselves had probably killed thousands of Galra when they blew up those cruisers? I think you might have already made a post about this, that the cruisers were mostly filled with robotic sentries, but I can't find it.

We do see that a lot of the cruisers were automated, but, even so: I feel like it is disingenuous to insinuate killing enemy soldiers is the same thing as experimenting on hostages under false pretenses.

This is a thing I come back to a lot- I think when you love a character it is very tempting to think they didn’t do anything “that bad��.

The reality is though, from jump, Lotor has a pretty clear bitter streak. He’s not too apologetic about hurting people if he thinks it’s necessary to advance a goal. This feeds in with his interaction with Ven’tar and his grief at that colony- while his grief was sincere, his argument with Zarkon was also on the basis that this was not necessary to do. There was nothing to gain from hurting Ven’tar’s people that couldn’t have been gained with interest from taking the time to spare and work with them.

So basically Lotor as a character is established as someone who, all factors the same, would like to not hurt anyone. But if he doesn’t feel like that’s on the table- or if he can’t afford the price tag- he sighs and gets out the knife and more or less gets over it. This is how we see him established in season 3. The ideal bait to get Voltron out of hiding is putting Puig to gunpoint- so he does. And he doesn’t feel sorry. He knows they’re rebuilding. He knows they’re afraid and hurting. He doesn’t relish in it. But he does it anyway.

(Lotor does, sometimes, relish hurting people. We largely see this happen towards Throk, and then again when the rift kind of coaxes it out of him with loosening standards- the pattern that seems to emerge is that he gets vindictive enjoyment hurting people he perceives as ‘they were going to hurt me, but I drew on them first’. And even this seems to have its limits- he’s not shown to be enjoying it at any point in his slaying of Zarkon in Blood Duel, though that could be a combination of how close that fight was- it was more of a desperate struggle for survival, and he got past it. He may have been more vindictive if he felt that he had the decisive upper hand on Zarkon)

The thing about the memorial statue in the colony is that, to me, it’s pretty unambiguous Lotor put it there, and against his ‘more sensible ideas’- because the person we see interacting with it is Romelle, who has doubts. From her perspective, we look at this, and see the numbers, and go “isn’t this too many? we don’t have contact with all of these people? the situation hasn’t changed at all so that we can open communications? Why does it feel so much like a grave?”

But this is a kind of regret on Lotor’s part that can only come on the idea that Lotor sees what he’s doing, that he is methodically digging a set number of graves, and calling for a set number of people to fill them, and they come obediently and lie down in their graves.

This is very different from Keith running Macidus through, or a ship being torn apart during a space battle. Legally, we regard these as different things. Battlefield casualties vs. premeditated murder. Those words have meaning and definitions that are not about “which one sounds scarier or more like an evil thing to do?” Lotor knew he was going to kill people, made plans to kill people, and then killed them. Did he also feel bad about it, or helpless, and could you argue a bunch of factors led him to that point? Yeah. But, it’s still, premeditated murder, outside of a combat situation. The paladins do not do that.

The paladins are not taking issue with the fact that Lotor takes life and insinuating that they have never taken any lives or endorsed life-taking. If they had, they would have taken issue with killing Zarkon back in Blood Duel. They didn’t.

This is a conflict we see specifically rear its head in Omega Shield- when a mutual ally is threatened, Lotor’s reaction is “can we afford their lives?” while the paladins’ reaction is “oh, if we have to cover our defenses here and there, that just means we should split up. Protecting that colony or not isn’t a question.” And it’s a difference in perspective Lotor notes, but Allura does not. The idea of who’s an innocent and who’s not- who’s “okay to kill”- is not what’s being discussed here. It’s the idea that once you establish someone is a noncombatant, civilian, ‘defenseless’, ‘an innocent’- what’s the value of their life?

I think if there’s a point you could potentially argue weakens the argument, it’s that the paladins aren’t doing something comparable to what Lotor is. We see a quieter / less “there is a several hundred person kill count on the line” version with the Blade of Marmora- Allura points out that Kolivan’s been keeping his head down for a long time, which has to have required he and his forces not directly challenging the empire and stopping them from hurting others.

The reality is Lotor, the Blade, and most of the universe has, one way or another, been surviving. They haven’t been in a position to challenge Zarkon directly. The paladins, as soon as they enter the field, are in that position. So basically the paladins never have to worry about playing survival, or about “what they can afford or not”- it’s all do or die. They don’t play a long game of defense. And this isn’t exclusive to aliens, either- we see this in season 7, with the Garrison. Again, same issue: “playing survival when you don’t have the resources to win”- creates an environment where morally gray, or even morally offensive, choices, look tempting.

Ultimately though, I don’t think that’s too meaningful as a discussion to have- that they ‘should have’ put the Paladins through the trolley problem purely to give them potential grounds to argue with Lotor about. The truth is, no matter how much I like Lotor as a character, I agree with the series’ consensus that this was crossing a line.

(And, I feel like mentally stuffing helpless slaves inside of the cruisers that are blown up for every space battle purely to insist Voltron killed innocents is also not a productive intellectual game- because you need to think of this as a story. Things happen in a story to tell a certain message- they are ruled by multiple factors.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #Lotor #readmore #can't believe I'm having a voltron blog renaissance here #Anonymous

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somekindoftuber · 5 years

Text

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 5)

(I apologize if the tense changes all over the place, I’m writing this as a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing because I care more about getting the idea out than writing something that’s grammatically perfect. I’ll probably clean this up and make it an actual fic once it’s all done. Thanks for reading!! :D)

part one | part two | part three | part four

There is a definite shift in Keith’s demeanor after Lance’s last visit.

They play Overwatch a few times a week, and while Keith goes into stern-leader-battle-mode when the game is going, between matches he’s loose, candid. He laughs at Lance’s jokes and makes casual conversation about his job, the garage, tells funny stories about Kosmo. Lance tells Keith stories about the customers he has at the cafe. It’s nice to hear a softness in Keith’s voice that Lance hadn’t heard before.

Keith shows up in nearly all of Lance’s Overwatch videos, even if his mic isn’t recorded. They sort of fall into a rhythm, meeting online every Tuesday and Thursday night to search for servers.

“Y’know,” Keith says one night while they’re in queue. “I wouldn’t have figured you for a sniper type.”

“Eh?” Lance is in his Widowmaker menu at that moment, flipping between two skins to see which one he likes more. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Keith clarifies, and it sounds like he’s smiling. “You just seem like more of a Mercy or a support or something. You’re really…” he pauses. “Generous. Always helping people. Then you get in here and you turn into a cold blooded assassin.”

Lance laughs. “I’ve always played a sniper, though. Gotta have balance somewhere, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They text a lot. It’s all small stuff, like pet photos or memes (which Keith doesn’t understand 90% of the time and Lance finds that kind of adorable). But it’s nice. Occasionally they’ll both have an early shift, and Lance will text Keith photos of the ancient espresso grinder, captioned “this thing wants me dead” surrounded with skull emojis. Keith’s sense of humor, Lance learns, is dry as cracker juice. He gets a photo of a broken rubber floor mat with the question, “what sound does a floor mat make when it splits right before a fitness class?” Before Lance can answer, he gets another photo of the same mat, this time with Keith’s middle finger pointing soundly at it. “That sound,” says the caption. Lance laughs so hard that his boss yells at him for being on his phone during a shift.

August comes to an end, and Pidge prepares for her final term. Lance helps by assisting in an apartment clean out, getting rid of literal clutter to ease Pidge’s impending mental clutter. Lance tries not to think about how this might be their last few months in this apartment together. He’s really enjoyed living with Pidge - he wasn’t exaggerating when he said she was like a sister. Pidge is an extension of his family, ever since they met at space camp all those years ago. She’d been a tiny, fluffy, indomitable ball of pure snark and Lance loved her immediately. Since then, they’d stuck together, seeing each other through some of the hardest times. Lance had cheered his lungs out when Pidge was handed her high school diploma, and in a few months, he’d see her walk across another stage in a cap and gown to receive her bachelor’s degree in Robotic Engineering.

It made him a little misty-eyed to think about it.

Pidge is playing Stardew Valley one afternoon (how the hell did she manage to make such an insanely profitable farm before the end of year one?) when she casually brings up one of Lance’s favorite fall events.

“You gonna go to the Founder’s Fair this year?”

Lance doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Uh, is the Pope catholic?”

“Good.” On the screen, Pidge’s character gives a bouquet to Penny. Dating everyone but marrying no one: the Pidge method. “Hunk is coming in for it.”

“Sweet.”

The Harborville Founder’s Fair was the highlight of every autumn. Right as the summer was fading away and the air was showing a hint of a chill, Oceanside Park would explode into three days of carnival rides, food trucks, fireworks, and everything in between. It was also the best time of year to surf - they didn’t get much in the way of waves here, but there would always be just enough in late September to rent a board. Lance had put in his time off request a month ago, buttering up his boss with the ‘this might be my last September in Harborville’ sob story. Which was sort of true, even if he wasn’t quite ready to face that reality yet.

Lance felt like he was getting closer to Keith. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case, but if nothing else, Keith seemed to finally be relaxing around him. There were one or two times when Lance could almost swear Keith was flirting, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. Nope, don’t go there. That’s assuming things. Assuming is dangerous.

The fair is in a week and to make up for missing work on what will be one of the busiest weekends of the year, Lance is working at the cafe nearly every day. He has more steam burns on his hands and wrists from making lattes than ever, and he thinks if he hears the word “pumpkin spice” one more time he might lose it. He hasn’t played Overwatch all week, too tired from extra shifts to do anything other than zone out to Netflix when he gets home.

He’s got two hours left in his Thursday morning shift, then he’s free for the whole weekend. He can practically taste the funnel cakes now - and the Rancho Alegre food truck, the only decent source of Cuban food in the entire state, will be there. God, he’s going to eat until he can’t move.

The morning rush has come and gone and the afternoon crowd isn’t here yet, so Lance is cleaning up the mess of coffee grounds and cinnamon around his work station when the bell on the cafe door sounds. He doesn’t look up as his coworker/supervisor Romelle greets whoever walks through, too preoccupied with wondering how the hell almond milk ended up underneath the grinder.

“Hello,” says the customer and Lance totally knows that voice. He stops wiping sour milk and looks up.

It’s Shiro. And right behind him is Allura and - oh shit. It’s Keith. He’s here, he’s here in the cafe and Lance had no idea he was coming and he probably looks like shit, overworked with bags under his eyes and his face breaking out from stress and he didn’t even shampoo his hair this morning because he was running late --

But then Keith smiles at him and wow. His hair is down and he’s wearing this black and red leather jacket and it should be illegal to look that good. Especially when Lance is such a mess.

“Hi,” Lance says, hating how his voice cracks. “What are you guys doing in town?”

Shiro is pulling out his wallet with his left hand. “We came for the fair. It was always one of my favorite things about going to school here.”

“Oh,” Lance squeaks.

They’re here for the fair. Lance might get to spend time at the fair with Keith. He forces himself to focus on the present before a dozen fantasies of ferris wheel rides and sharing cotton candy can take over his brain.

They all order drinks and Lance claims them before Romelle can even finish ringing them up. Shiro gets a hazelnut americano, Allura orders a tuxedo mocha, and Keith shyly asks for a latte. Lance can tell he doesn’t go to coffee shops often and makes the drinks carefully. He can’t embellish Shiro’s americano, but he uses chocolate sauce and extra foam to draw a bow tie in Allura’s mug. For Keith’s latte, he sends a prayer to the coffee gods to grant him latte art prowess. It works, and Lance is rounding out rings of coffee and foam, pulling through to form a perfect heart.

He slides the mug across the counter to Keith, who’s eyebrow shoot into his hair. He breaths a little “wow” and blushes, taking the mug and smiling. He’s wearing fingerless leather gloves. Lance’s heart flip-flops in his chest.

The three of them find a table near the window and sit, chatting and drinking their coffee. They’re too far away for Lance to hear what they’re saying, and even if he could, he’s on the clock, and the lunchtime regulars are starting to trickle in.

Would it be gauche to text his evening shift coworker and bribe him to come in early so Lance can leave?

Lance thinks Romelle can tell he’s pouting by the way she sides up to him.

“Hey,” she whispers. “Is that the guy?”

He follows her gaze and sees that it lands firmly on the table where Keith is sitting with Shiro and Allura. Keith looks up at Lance, and smiles a little before turning back to his brother.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers back, feeling his face heat up. “The one with the long hair.”

Romelle lets out a low whistle. “Quite the catch,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “What about the girl they’re with?”

“Allura?” Lance thinks. “I don’t know her very well, but she’s nice.”

“She single?”

Lance rolls his eyes and starts on the next drink. “No idea, you should ask her.”

It’s slower today and Lance is thankful for it. With Keith in the room, he can’t focus on anything - it’s a miracle he doesn’t catastrophically screw up the drinks he’s making. There’s a break in customers and Romelle comes over to Lance where he loading a portafilter with espresso and waves her phone.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says, and he does not like that voice. That’s her Supervisor Voice. “I’ll call Ryan in an hour early if you get me Cute Girl’s number.”

Lance puts the tamp down. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He looks over at the table where Keith is sitting. They’ve all finished their drinks and will probably be leaving soon.

“Romelle,” Lance states. “You are an evil super villain and I love you. Consider that number yours.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan Kinkade is walking in and he doesn’t look particularly thrilled about it. Lance takes off his apron and motions at the jar of cash by the register.

“Ryan, you’re a lifesaver and my tips are yours. Thank you!” Lance clocks out before anyone can argue and walks over to where Keith and Co are sitting. He’s very much aware of how he probably reeks of coffee and looks like garbage but does his best to smile anyway.

“My shift is over, did you guys have any plans?”

Shiro smiles and stands. “I think we were going to head to our Air B&B and check in, actually. We could use a breather after that drive. We can meet up for dinner later, if you want.”

Inwardly, Lance lets out a sigh of relief because this means he’ll have time to take a shower and make himself presentable. “That sounds good! Any place you want to go?”

Shiro shrugs. “Is Vinnie’s still open?”

Lance lights up. “Oh yeah, still as good as ever, too! Want to meet there at, uh - “ He checks his phone, it’s barely 3pm. “Around five? We should beat most of the dinner rush that way.”

They all nod and the plans are made. They walk outside together and Lance watches the three of them get into a very nice Chrysler sedan - maybe Allura’s, given how she goes for the driver’s seat. Once they’re gone, Lance heads for his car and books it home. He immediately washes and exfoliates his face, then applies an anti-inflammatory mask and works at cleaning up the apartment. It was already fairly clean since Hunk will be crashing on the pull-out sofa bed for the weekend, and he has no idea of Keith will ever even see this place, but Lance doesn’t want to take any risks.

He shoots Pidge a text to tell her about their plans in case she wants to join. Hunk isn’t due until tomorrow morning.

Apartment clean(er) and his face mask dry and itchy, Lance hops in the shower and scrubs himself sore. Keith is here and will be spending the weekend here and Lance is equal parts ecstatic and terrified. He meticulously goes through his whole grooming routine, moisturizes, swabs, trims his eyebrows, even files his nails. He checks his reflection once he’s done and thankfully his face is less red, the stress acne barely noticeable.

There’s still about 45 minutes until he needs to be at Vinnie’s so Lance takes his time picking out clothes. He settles for a low cut tank top that shows off his collarbones and a beige button down over it with the sleeves rolled up, finishing it off with a pendant necklace and grey skinny jeans. He examines himself in the mirror and frowns a little. Does it look too much like date clothes?

He doesn’t have time to change because then his phone pings and it’s Shiro, saying they’re heading to Vinnie’s a little early. Lance all but throws himself out the door.

Vinnie’s is starting to get crowded, Lance can already see the line forming when he parks. He spots Shiro and Allura easily, their white hair making them stand out. They’d managed to claim a patio table - no small feat - and were chatting happily.

Lance joins them and it’s amazing how welcome he feels in this group, the way Shiro half-pulls a chair out for Lance. Keith is sitting to his right, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, the black t-shirt he wore stretching nicely over his chest. And if he didn’t know any better, Lance could swear he saw Keith’s eyes sweep down his neck and linger.

They ate and laughed and ate more, drinking fancy gourmet sodas. They make loose plans for the weekend - beach tomorrow, then the fair on Saturday, and maybe brunch before they leave on Sunday. Lance educates Keith in the ways of the garlic knot, the most sacred food item on earth. And when Keith shrugs and says they’re “alright,” Lance feigns offense, gasping and clutching his chest.

Pidge joins them later, looking utterly spent from a long day of classes. Lance gives up his seat so she can collapse into it. He kneels beside the table instead, passing Pidge the last of their pizza and appetizers. Keith gives him a look, then scoots over to one side of his chair, patting the other with his hand.

Lance short circuits, looking from the empty side of the chair to Keith’s face several times.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Get up here. That,” he points to where Lance is kneeling, “Is super bad for your knees.”

“Oh?” Lance slides into place, and it’s sort of uncomfortable with half of his ass hanging off the chair, but he can feel heat pouring off Keith’s body with how close he is. “You care much about my knees?”

Keith goes super red. “I’m a physical trainer,” He said, suddenly very interested in his soda. “It’s my job to care. Doing stuff like that will ruin them.”

“Right.”

Lance glances over at Pidge, who had a garlic knot halfway to her mouth and giving Lance the most predatory grin. He glares at her to shut down whatever evil plans she might be formulating.

They finally finish the food and decide to stop taking up a table, bussing it themselves to save the staff some work. Instead of a bar, they decide to head over to Lance and Pidge’s apartment to chill - half because Pidge isn’t 21 yet and wouldn’t be able to join them at most of the bars in town, and half because Vinnie’s was so loud that they’re all craving some quiet.

Lance is so thankful that his past self had the sense to clean a little more. They all sprawl out over the living room, Lance going to pull a chair from the kitchen to sit on so the guests can have the nice couch and Pidge can curl up in the easy chair. Lance offers up the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer and everyone takes one; Allura seems to be examining hers with great interest, like she’s never had one before.

Shiro talks a lot, mostly about what Harborville was like when he and Matt were in college. About their first apartment that should probably have been condemned, the dogs he’d walk between classes for extra cash. Eventually Lance’s cats come out of hiding to investigate, and Keith goes starry-eyed at Batou’s big green eyes and plush grey coat.

Pidge falls asleep in her chair just after nine. Everyone takes a second to coo at how cute she is before Lance bends down to scoop her up.

“Lemme put sleeping beauty here to bed. If she stays there she’ll be sore and cranky when she wakes up.”

He takes Pidge to her room and sets her on her bed, then wrestles her sneakers off her feet, setting her glasses on the bedside table and draping a sheet over her. When he goes back into the living room and sits in the chair he’d removed Pidge from, Allura gives him a fond look.

“You’re very sweet to her.”

Lance shrugs. “She’s pretty much family. Also, I have to do that all the time. I’ve found her face down on her homework out here more times than I want to count.”

They talk for another two hours. Lance feels a little lonely with Keith sitting on the side of the couch furthest from him, but then again, if he was closer, Lance isn’t sure his brain would work. Allura yawns wide.

“I think it’s time we turned in,” she states. “I’d like to get some rest before the weekend starts.”

Shiro agrees. Lance ends up seeing them off in the parking lot, waving as they drive away.

Hunk arrives just after 10am the next morning, armed with bags of groceries to pack a picnic for the beach. He puts Lance and Pidge on an assembly line in the kitchen, making pork sandwiches, vegetable rolls, hummus wraps, crab and radish tartines, potato salad, and chocolate-dipped clementine slices. He’d picked up a package of Lance’s favorite lemon cream cookies and Lance could almost kiss him for it.

With their precious picnic food carefully packed in an ice chest along with plenty of drinks, Lance shot a group text to Keith, Shiro, and Allura to ask if they were ready for the beach. He got confirmation quickly, and they agreed to hit the north shore near the lighthouse, where the sand was rougher but the tourists tended to be a little thinner.

Parking is a bitch but they find a spot, then wait by the trunk for Keith and Co to arrive. About ten minutes later Lance sees Allura’s Chrysler pull in to a spot. They walk over to meet them and Lance is practically bouncing, because 1) he gets to go to the beach, 2) he gets to go surfing with Hunk, 3) he gets to spend time with new friends, and 4) Keith is here. Everyone is in shorts and light shirts, Allura has this big floppy sun hat that is absolutely precious on her, and Keith’s face is shiny with sunscreen. Lance bets that fair skin of his will still be red by the end of the day.

They find a spot that’s decently clear and set up. Hunk, Keith, and Lance tackle the portable canopy that will hopefully keep them all from becoming completely sunburned while Allura and Pidge set out the sand blanket and arrange their stuff to keep the wind from blowing it away. Once they’re settled, the ice chest is opened and sodas and juice are passed around. The wind is strong today but not enough to be a problem for their canopy, and the waves are large and plentiful. Lance eyes the surfboard rental shack a quarter mile down the beach.

Once they’ve had enough of snacking and chatting, Lance gives Hunk fingerguns and they almost take off down the beach together, making a beeline for the surfboards. Rolo is working it as usual and after some searching they find the perfect boards and duck into the changing tent to get into their springsuits. Lance has the white and blue suit up over his hips and was about to pull it the rest of the way on when he remembers that Keith is sitting out there. Ever since Lance learned he was a Crossfit trainer, he’d started running and working out again. He wasn’t in as good a shape as he was when he’d been swimming competitively, but thanks to months of regular exercise, he at least sort of looked the part again. And maybe he wanted to show off a little. So Lance left the top of his springsuit open and hanging from his hips as they went back to the group with their boards.

“Showoff,” Hunk accused while they were still out of earshot of everyone else.

Lance subtly flexed his chest. “So? I worked hard for this.”

When they got back to the canopy, Lance did his best to act nonchalant as he set his board aside and started pulling his springsuit up over his chest. Keith was definitely looking at him. Mission accomplished.

His flirty nature satisfied, it was time to surf. Lance missed this so much, the first step into the ocean water was like heaven. He and Hunk paddled out until the water was smooth, then sat on their boards and waited. They didn’t have to wait long, Hunk caught the first good wave that came their way, riding it out and away. Lance caught the next one, and it was a crazy high. It just felt so good, cutting through the water with his board, turning, riding through tunnels of blue-green. The waves tossed him, wrecked him, dragged his body against the sand below. But every time, Lance would surface, shake it off, and paddle out for another go.

His legs finally started to shake, so Lance hauled his board back to the shore. Hunk was already sitting under the canopy again, changed out of his springsuit and sipping on a juice box.

“I was gonna give you ten more minutes before I dragged you out of the water,” Hunk said.

Lance didn’t reply, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His board hits the sand and he all but collapses onto the sand sheet, his ears ringing.

A water bottle appeared in his periphery. Lance looked up enough to trace the hand that held it back to Keith, who was wearing this cute little smile. Lance smiled back and took the bottle, downing half of it in one gulp.

Pidge starts pulling out food and Lance blindly eats whatever is handed to him, too exhausted to care what it is. It’s all delicious but with how many calories he burned surfing, he could probably be eating stale saltines and they’d taste like a delicacy. He leans back on the sand sheet and basks in the post-surf euphoria.

Lance notices everyone starting to get up. Allura is holding several frisbees with a gleam in her eye, and most of the group is rising to join her. Keith stands and, after fiddling with the collar of his shirt for a second, reaches back and pulls it over his head, letting it drop to the ground.

Lance is instantly awake because holy shit. Keith is ripped. He’s all tight skin and perfect muscles and - oh.

He’d been wrong when he’d assumed Keith’s tattoo was a wolf. It’s actually a lion, roaring fiercely, emblazoned in dark red ink over his left hip.

Keith takes a hair tie off his wrist and uses it to pull his hair up high on the back of his head. He shoots Lance a loaded glance before walking out into the sun to join everyone else for a game of frisbee tag. Lance memorizes the muscles of his back as he goes.

“Good god, you’re so loud.”

Lance sits up and turns to see Pidge, sitting in the center of the sand sheet in her shorts and green rash guard, with her phone in one hand and a cookie in the other.

“I didn’t say anything!” Lance protests. Pidge just cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Not with words, anyway.”

Lance frowns, then dares to look back out at his friends, finding Keith and tracking his movements across the beach.

They empty the ice chest of food and drink and, after several more hours of beach fun, they decide to pack it in and head out. Lance is going to remember this day for the rest of his life - the image of Keith glistening wet as he walked out of the ocean had finally taught Lance the meaning of the phrase “looks good enough to eat.”

Lance is so, so tired. Surfing wore him out but he still played a round of beach volleyball after that, and then swam some more. He’s going to be so sore tomorrow. He drives himself, Hunk, and Pidge back to their apartments to shower and change before they head over to the Air B&B where Shiro, Keith, and Allura are staying. Lance decides on a regular shirt and his favorite jeans, only bothering to put a single layer of moisturizer on his face.

The Air B&B turns out to be a whole house, with a yard and a little deck where they all gather around faded patio furniture as Shiro hands out beers. He gives Pidge a look as she takes one for herself.

“What?” She says as she twists off the top of the bottle. “I’m gonna be 21 in a few months, I’m in safe company, and I’m not driving.”

Shiro just sighs and sits down.

They talk and laugh for hours. Pidge only has one beer before switching to sweet tea, and Lance is a little relieved. He has no idea what drunk Pidge would be like and he’d rather not find out this weekend - he would be cash money that she’d be ornery as hell. Hunk orders some delivery from their favorite noodle place when Lance isn’t paying attention. Keith looks happy as a kid on Christmas with a giant bowl of pho in front of him, and Lance learns that Vietnamese food is his favorite.

They move inside once the sun goes down to keep from bothering the neighbors. Lance settles into a corner of the faded couch, and is too tired to panic when Keith sits next to him. Hunk launches into a story about his last term at school when he almost blew the breaker for the entire engineering building and Lance tries to pay attention, but he’s worn out and Keith is radiating heat like a furnace. Combine that with his full stomach and a couple of beers and he’s so, so sleepy.

Someone is calling his name and Lance inhales sharply, eyes fluttering open. It was Hunk, who’s smiling at him from across the coffee table. Lance is leaning on something warm and solid. He rubs his eyes and looks up.

He was leaning on Keith.

Lance’s eyes bug out but Keith just looks down at him with this tiny smile and a blush on his cheeks. Lance suddenly feels like the room is a million degrees as he carefully sits up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out.”

Keith laughs softly. “It’s fine.”

They all start to wrap up their stories and conversations. Lance doesn’t know what time it is but it feels late, and since they want to hit the fair tomorrow, they should all get some sleep. Hunk offers to drive home and Lance hands him the keys as Keith, Shiro, and Allura wave goodbye from the front porch.

He almost falls asleep again in the ten minutes it takes Hunk to drive them back to their apartment. Lance helps set up the pull-out sofa, then goes to brush his teeth. He’s practically nodding off at the bathroom sink when Pidge comes up to him and pulls out her phone.

“Thought you should see this,” she says, holding it up.

On the screen is a photo of Keith, and, with his head resting on Keith’s shoulder dead asleep, Lance. Keith is looking down at him and definitely blushing.

The toothbrush stills in Lance’s mouth as he swipes the phone from Pidge’s hand, using his thumbs to pull and zoom. Keith was smiling.

“Please send this to me immediately,” Lance tells her, words muffled from the toothbrush still hanging from between his teeth.

He’s in bed setting his alarm when he gets the text from Pidge with the photo attached. And if Lance hugs a pillow and kicks his feet a little at the sight, who could blame him?

Continued in part 6!

#youtuber au #text #klance

3K notes · View notes

moonguilt · 4 years

Text

molten gold

(written for a zine application, but I decided I would post it here and on ao3. it’s short but i had fun with it :) happy holidays, enjoy!)

Pairing: Keith/Lance

Wordcount: 1852

Read on my AO3 here!

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“God, I’m so boooored.” Lance’s aggravated face popped up on the Black Lion’s main cockpit window, casting a faint red glow over Keith’s dashboard. Keith couldn’t exactly blame him; this so-called “space road trip” to Earth was taking much longer than they’d hoped, and inhabitable planets where they could take pit stops were few and far between.

A yellow glow appeared soon thereafter. “It feels like we’ve been flying for quintants,” Hunk groaned in agreement, his body half-way sunken into his chair. “Have we been flying for quintants? I definitely think we have. I pee approximately every five vargas, and since we left Iyethos, I think I’ve peed like...” He lifted a hand and started counting on his fingers, then sprung up in his seat, eyes wide. “Ohh, my God, I’m measuring time in intervals of pee. My sanity has reached a critical low.”

“Good Groggery, do humans really urinate so frequently?” Blue light entered the mix as Coran’s excited face materialized far too close to the screen, his body gracelessly crammed into the space between the control panel and the chair. Allura was leaning as far away as she could, her expression torn between annoyance and exhaustion.

Keith heard footsteps behind him, and a moment later Shiro’s robotic hand settled on the chair’s backrest. “Well, it depends on the—”

“Alright, no, we’re not having this conversation,” Keith interrupted immediately, already feeling the first pricks of a headache. “I know we’re all bored out of our minds, but I’m not gonna sit through you guys having some kind of pseudo-scientific discussion about the human bladder.” He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “There has got to be something better for you guys to entertain yourselves with.”

Finally, a green-tinted video feed flickered to life on his screen. “Say no more,” Pidge declared, smirking and cockily kicking her legs up onto the dashboard, only to find that she was a bit too short to maintain the position comfortably. She struggled for a moment before admitting defeat and sitting upright again. “Guess who just finished installing the latest Monsters and Mana data into our Lions’ shared network? As well as…” She adjusted her glasses. “... a dice bot?”

Lance was the first to react. “For real?!” he exclaimed, perking up in a way that Keith, at this point, could admit to himself was cute. “I mean—if you guys wanna play it, you know, I’ll tag along I guess.” He schooled his expression back into one of neutrality, pretending to examine his fingernails before realizing that he was, in fact, wearing gloves.

Pidge raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, you mean you’ll lower yourself to play a nerd game with us humble nerds, huh?”

“I am feeling charitable today, Pidgey.”

Coran was leaping in too close to the screen again before anyone else could get a word out. “Well what are we waiting for? I’ve been wanting to try out my newest campaign for longer than a Yarupian Velrod’s first—”

“Hey, hang on, Coran.” Lance held his hands together in a T shape. “Keith doesn’t have a character yet.” He paused, then jolted in his seat a bit. “Or, uh, Krolia, or Romelle, or Shiro technically since, uh, you know, the last one wasn’t really his…” The faintest color started to rise to his cheeks, barely visible in the red glow of his lion’s cockpit.

Pretty, Keith’s mind informed him helpfully.

“... Anyway, plus they probably don’t even know how to play—”

“Of course I know how to play!” Romelle interjected, looking affronted as she squeezed past Coran and into the frame. “I used to play this all the time!”

“It is a highly popular Altean pastime,” Allura admitted. Only the top of her head was visible over her fellow Alteans. It seemed she had managed to squeeze far enough away in her seat to give their unpredictable limb movements a wide berth.

“And I do have my… ah… the clone’s memories,” Shiro added, his words coming out somewhat choppy and uncomfortable, “so… I know how it works. I think.”

“I will admit I am familiar with the game as well.” Keith nearly jumped out of his skin as his mother’s voice spoke over his shoulder. When did she get there? Wasn’t she sleeping? God, she was silent as the grave. “It is an excellent way during free time for Blade members to train their strategic skills and team working abilities through intricate problem-solving simulations.”

“... Yeah that sounds fun,” Lance commented in a flat tone, then waved emphatically at Keith. “Well still, Keith’s got no idea—”

Keith could hear the obnoxious grin on Shiro’s face as he inhaled. “Well, actually—”

“Shiro, no.”

“Keith’s not really as inexperienced as you might think—”

“Do not.”

“See, the thing about him and Matt and Adam is—”

Keith didn’t even allow himself a moment of pity over the slight hesitation in Shiro’s voice when mentioning Adam. He was too busy jumping up and clambering over his seat to tackle his adoptive brother. Try as he might, though, he wasn’t strong enough to get a hand over Shiro’s laughing mouth before—

“—they were total Dungeons and Dragons dorks.”

Keith let out a garbled noise, somewhere between a growl and a wail, and slumped back into his seat, letting his messy hair fall into his face. He could have sworn he heard a hum of amusement from Krolia’s direction.

He was allowed a moment of silent wallowing, and then:

“WHAT? Are you serious?!”

“Incredible! Why, Keith, if you were already fighting dragons at that age—”

“Shiro, my dude, I love and trust you, but you are definitely lying right now—”

“He’s not.”

All attention turned to Pidge, who was now fixing Keith with a knowing look that he did not like one bit.

“Pidge…” he grumbled in warning. She merely winked in his direction.

“It’s all true. Matt would come home and ramble about all the wacky quests he would send you guys on. He always took it easy on you, though, because you were a wittle baby,” she crooned, sticking out her lower lip. “Keith was like… thirteen, max, when they started. And he always played an edgy self-insert barbarian named—”

Keith’s irritation turned to absolute dread; a veritable wave of ice rushed down his spine. He didn’t even have time to protest.

“—Thunderstorm Darkness.”

You could hear a pin drop in the split second silence that followed.

“... No way,” Lance whispered, and like that, the dam broke.

Howling laughter from all around met Keith’s ears. He hunched down in his chair and shot both Pidge and Shiro absolute death glares as his teammates laughed so hard they cried. Shiro had the decency to look at least a little apologetic, but Pidge only fell into even louder hysterics.

“What?” Keith demanded hotly, his burning shame urging him to defend himself. Kosmo wandered over and began snuffling at Keith’s legs, as if sensing his distress. “I was a kid! And it’s not even that bad, you guys are overreacting—”

“THUNDERSTORM DARK—PFFFFTTT—” Lance’s laughing face was beautiful, even when he was laughing at Keith’s expense. Stupid beautiful Lance.

Keith couldn’t even find it in himself to stay mad when Lance’s bright laughter echoed around the cockpit. He was really starting to regret this whole “falling in love” thing. It definitely gave Lance way too much power over him.

Ah, did he say love? He meant crush. Stupid little crush. Keith was just very gay, and Lance was just very handsome. And nice. And smart. And funny. And heroic. And—

“Alright, everybody, that’s enough,” Shiro’s voice cut through his spiralling thoughts. “Why don’t we give everyone a minute to figure out their characters’ attributes and statistics? I’d like to make a new one too, personally.”

Everyone calmed down a bit after that; it was valid for Shiro to want to create a new character, after all. It was his own way of moving forward, in a sense. Starting fresh.

The team rambled about their past Monsters and Mana adventures while Keith, Shiro, Krolia, and Romelle listened quietly and designed their characters. Krolia’s choice of a basic fighter class was no surprise; neither was Romelle’s choice of druid, given her love of cute little animals.

When Shiro was finished, he cleared his throat and announced with great gusto:

“My character will be named Kiro. I want him to be a paladin.”

Hunk let out a defeated sigh, but everyone smartly kept their mouths shut.

Lance leaned forward then, his pretty blue eyes on full display. It took a moment for Keith to realize that his lips were moving too. Huh, that’s nice. Keith liked it when Lance’s lips moved. Oh, but they were frowning now. Wait, why were they frowning?

“Uh—what?” Keith stammered belatedly, willing his face to remain neutral. “I… zoned out.” He could feel his ears burning and quickly adjusted his hair to cover them.

Lance rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Dude, you were looking right at me while I was speaking to you, I don’t know how you managed to ‘zone out.’ Unless...” Something else must have occurred to him then, because his brows furrowed, and concern washed over his expression.

Oh no. No no no—

“Are you alright, man? You been getting enough sleep?” Lance’s gaze swept over Keith’s body, which nearly shivered under the attention. Keith thanked whatever deity out there that he still had some semblance of self control. “We don’t have to do this right now if you’re not up for it. You gotta take care of yourself, Keith,” he concluded, his tone far gentler than it had been just moments earlier.

Oh.

Something twisted in Keith’s chest at the way his name sounded coming from Lance’s lips, soft with worry. It churned and coiled around his sternum for a moment before melting into his very core, creating a hot gooey feeling that climbed to his shoulders and pooled in his stomach simultaneously. Lance may as well have poured molten gold into his veins, for all the warmth and all the worth with which it filled him.

“... I’m okay,” Keith managed eventually, dragging himself out of his reverie, only to find the rest of the team dead silent and watching him with amused expressions. “So. Um. What were we talking about?” He was so ready for this conversation to move on to safer territory.

Lance did not seem to catch Keith’s little moment of weakness, if his cheerful demeanor was any indication. “I was asking what your character is,” he clarified, leaning forward with another one of those devilish grins that drove Keith crazy in the best way. “Come on, mullet, lay it on us.”

That was enough to draw a hefty sigh from Keith, but he cleared his throat and answered anyway:

“He’s a barbarian, and his name is Thunderstorm Darkness.”

And, sure, Keith knew his teammates’ teasing would be endless. But it was a necessary sacrifice. One that paid off, he thought to himself, reveling in the fresh bout of laughter that shook Lance’s form, and the knowledge that he was responsible for it.

#its getting close to dinner time over in the states i think ish #so merry christmas eve to those of u who celebrate #and to everybody else happy holidays #this is probably a bad night to post this tbh but im impatient so here it is #here you can read this if ur antisocial and u dont wanna interact with ur family tonight #bc. mood #klance #monsters and mana #fanfic #lavender letters #i need to learn how to format fanfics nicely so they look good on my tumblr. hm #... some day

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annoyinglyjovialbird · 4 years

Text

Voltron: Next Generation

Nuclear Decisions: II

Word Count: 2787

Darrar sat in the middle of the floor inside his makeshift cell. As soon as he was given full command of Seklok's former ship, he used the tracking device in the mecha to find the massive ship that housed the Voltron Lions and their Paladins.

Speaking of the Paladins of Voltron, they were sitting in their chairs on the bridge. Three of them looked uncomfortable, one looked furious, and the last one looked confused. Shiro took in their expressions, wondering what had happened while he and Keith dealt with their new prisoner. You know what? Maybe he didn't want to know why Kova's eyes glinted.

"Team," Shiro began, three Paladins already half out of their seats. "We have a prisoner." They sat back down, readjusted themselves, and paid more attention.

"They want to speak with the half-Galra onboard." Keith stood next to Shiro with a hand on his hip. "Something about recruiting." Kova's eyes flared, her mouth curling in a sneer.

"Eject him," Kova growled. Eyes turned to Kova who simply gripped her arms harder. She had her arms crossed like an angry school teacher.

"There has to be a reason he's here," Shiro said, trying to keep the peace.

"If there's a reason, why should we give him the benefit of the doubt?" Kova's gleamed dangerously. "He snuck onto our ship, where Keith was being held." Keith's eyes widened at the statement but agreed nonetheless. "Yorak's after me. Eject him." Kova ended with resounding finality.

"We can't just eject someone without a good reason, right?" Caleb turned from his sister to his dad. Shiro didn't say anything, seeming to agree with Kova. "Dad, you can't be serious!"

"We have to think ahead," Shiro said, turning around to look out the window to the inky black space outside.

"This person," Kova began. "Could reveal Voltron to the entire universe. Why is it fair to keep him here longer than necessary, where he could confirm suspicions." Kova stepped around her console to stand in front of the railing around her station. "We either eject him or kill him, and last I checked, we are /against/ killing people."

"Hey!" Kenny exclaimed. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Reasons."

"Whatever his reason is, maybe we should hear him out first," Keith said, half-turning towards Shiro.

"Hear him—" Kova's eyes widened at the blasphemous suggestion. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He's looking for half-Galra, right? Chances are he's half-Galra, too."

"We can't boldly make that accusation, Kova."

"I can boldly make that accusation! I'm half-Galra!" Kova looked up, eyes losing their sharpness. "If the entire universe discovered Voltron returned, it'll be a bad end for all of us."

"Are you sure you aren't exaggerating anything? Maybe we should keep him. Yorak might want him back." Caleb turned around in his chair to stare at the back of Shiro's head, in hopes of having his voice heard.

"Have you met Yorak?" Kova glanced between Caleb and Shiro's turned heads. "He's insane. He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and he currently wants me. We should let him go."

"Uh," Liz shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Don't we get a say in this?"

"No." All formerly speaking parties said at the same time. Liz reclined in her seat, meeting eyes with Kenny. He touched the side of his forehead with his fingers, keeping his hand flat. He also rolled his eyes while pointing at the arguing party. Liz smiled gratefully, nodding her head.

"We were advised to keep Voltron a secret. We should continue to do that." Kova ended with a serious note.

"Very well." Shiro turned around again, facing the teens. "We should cross-reference with the Altean database and touch base with Coran."

"If Earth was so out-of-touch with the rest of the Galactic Coalition, what do you think the chances are they'll help us?"

"I, uh, I actually, uh, um," Allie stammered.

"Allie?"

"Sorry." She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "It's just that, I, uh..." Her words died on her tongue as she noticed that every pair of eyes in the room were now fixated on her and whatever she had to say. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, or whatever the Altean equivalent was.

"Allie?" Kova tried to get her attention. "Allie." The young girl began to shake. "Allura." Kova's deep commanding voice finally got the young girl's attention, making eye contact with the young girl. "Look at me. Just me." Allie's breath evened out the longer her eyes met Kova's. "What about Altea?" Allie sighed, nodding her head, looking determined.

"I have authorized clearance over the Altean records." Allie seemed to sit taller in her chair. "I wasn't just trained by Altean medics, I was also trained by bookkeepers, advisors, and everyone else who had a position of power over Altean life." She turned in her chair to face Shiro, Keith, and everyone else. "I just need a name."

"Are you sure?" Shiro asked, glancing at Keith.

"Yes." Allie sounded confident, nodding her head.

"Alright then." Kova stood to her full height, placing her hands on her hips. "Let's go, team."

"Kova." Shiro tried to stop her, but she ignored him.

"Allie, you can use my console," Kova called out, watching the other teens file out of the bridge. Caleb joined Kenny on the long trek down to the engine room. Liz and Cake marched themselves to their rooms. Shiro, while hesitant, walked out as well with Keith on his heels. They would go back to the observation rooms in the med bay to interrogate their prisoner further. Kova was the last to leave, watching as Allie stood from her chair and climbed the staircase, slowly morphing. By the top of the stairs, Kova was now having to look up at the newly tall Altean. Kova was level with Allie's shoulder, but that didn't deter her. With a hand on her shoulder, the fear that had begun to brew inside Allie had seemingly dissipated momentarily. With a smile and a nod, Kova left the young girl alone on the bridge, closing the door behind her. The bridge door didn't close all the way, however, but Allie was oblivious to this.

Her thin fingers hovered over the console's keyboard, wondering whether she should continue or not. Chances were her login didn't work anymore, and she would have to contact Altean directly. With that thought in mind, Allie set to work with an ease that scared her. She had typed the call code so many times before. Why was she afraid she couldn't remember it?

The screen in front of the window appeared with three white dots on its Altean blue screen. The call connected just as Allie composed herself.

"I truly hope you are calling to apologize." An older woman with blonde hair pinned back in a high bun with a braid crowning her head, sharp purple eyes, and pale green markings pointedly said. She was looking down at a screen in her hands, pressing something. Allie took a breath to calm her nerves as the woman continued. She had looked up to glare directly at the screen. "Otherwise, I'm hanging up."

"Please don't, Romelle," Allie pleaded. Romelle put down the screen she had been holding and positioned herself to completely face Allie.

"Allura," Romelle began, lacing her fingers together in front of her. "What do you want?"

"I would like to formally request reinstatement of my access to Altean records."

"Really?" Allie had been bowing her head. At Romelle's reply, she looked up to see an eyebrow raised on Romelle's bored face. "I would rather you apologize."

"For what exactly?" Allie asked, confused. Even Kova outside the door could hear her confusion. She also jumped when Romelle slammed both her hands onto the table.

"Are you playing coy with me, Allura?" Romelle's eyes lit with anger, while Allie tried her best to not shake in fear. "For denying your title!"

"Denying my—" Allie repeated as realization dawned on her. "What title is there for me to deny?"

"Allura." Romelle's tone softened, as though she were explaining something to a child. To be fair, she was, but I think Allie is old enough to think for herself. "You are named after the greatest hero known to Altea. You should be carrying her mantle, her title, her very name, with honor and grace."

"Isn't it more honorable and graceful to let those close to her mourn than announce an heir?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Her friends joined together to celebrate her memory." Allie looked down to her hands again. "Announcing an heir to the Altean throne on that specific day seems disrespectful."

"Allura, your father served alongside her for a great many years. You were named after a person of strength."

"So were a thousand others."

"You are the daughter of the Emperor. The only daughter of the Emperor. No one else will ever have that honor."

"I know all that." Allie snapped. "I still don't understand what I have to apologize for."

"For denying your title when you left Altea." Allie's jaw slackened. She couldn't have been redder.

"Is that it?" Allie slammed her hands on the console, making Romelle jump slightly. "You're the one that recommended me to the Garrison! You're the one you told me to keep a low profile! That's why I dismissed the royal guard! That's why I didn't go around school announcing 'I'm Princess of Altea! Bow to me, peasants!' Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

"Why, I never!"

"Never what, Romelle?" Allura glared at the older woman. "Never suggested the Princess remain a secret until she has learned some valuable skills, then become offended when she isn't announced on Remembrance Day? Never instructed the guards to disguise themselves, then grew angry when they weren't ornate enough? Never announced the name Allura when asked what my name should be, then wondered why a thousand others were the same name?" Allie was close to panting as she listed off everything in anger. "Because you did it, Romelle. You did it all. So it's not my fault when I say that I don't want to rule people that don't know about my very existence! Not when I'm lost in a sea of a thousand strong." Her voice softened as her rant came to an end. Her anger left her with every word until it all left her body. Only the humming of the Coeus's engines remained, a constant rhythm through the silence. Romelle's violet eyes widened at Allie's outburst, so still that Allie thought the connection had cut out. Romelle moved to compose herself, with hardened eyes.

"No." She said. Blood rushed through Allie's ears as Romelle said that one word. "I will not reinstate your access. If you need something, you call me. Understood?" Allie wanted to yell and kick and scream at the unfairness, but she didn't. She gave a slight nod, which Romelle pursed her lips at. "Goodbye, Allura." The screen turned off, letting the distant humming take over. The star-studded darkness swallowed Allie whole, to which she gritted her teeth at. A hand on her shoulder cleared the darkness, flling her with fear. The fear quickly turned to dread when she turned to follow the hand to its owner.

"You okay?" Kova's usually sharp amber eyes had softened, looking genuinely worried. Allie had shrunk down to her original height. Well, the original height that Kova had met her in. Allie was shaking, small hands balled into fists at her sides. At Kova's question, Allie's bright blue eyes welled up with tears, falling down her cheeks. Kova managed to lift her other arm so that Allie could hook her arms around Kova's waist, resting her head on the older teen's shoulder. Kova wrapped her arms around the young girl's shoulders, rubbing her back as she sobbed into her shoulder. Kova whispered in Allie's ear, but she heard none of it. She continued sobbing until there were no more tears to shed, and allowed Kova to lead her back to her room.

———————

"What do you wish to do?" Vhix asked, looking from the front window to Yorak. Yorak's features were shadowed ominously, with fingers laced in front of his mouth.

"Create a distraction." Yorak lowered his hands, staring at the huge white and orange battleship. "Draw her out." Vhix made a round-up symbol, getting the attention of the lower ranking soldiers, who set themselves to work.

"Anything else?" Vhix asked. Yorak quietly eyed every structure on the Coeus until he found an odd-looking piece. A dingy satellite that seemed to be made of scraps was attached onto the outer surface of the Coeus, almost completely out-of-sight. Almost. "Yorak?"

"Fire on the satellite." Yorak turned, voice echoing in the command chamber. Soldiers immediately got to work, readying weapons. "Fire on the ones who come out until the Black Lion intervenes." Yorak strode forward towards the different officers, each of them doing all but physically pinning themselves to the wall as Yorak passed their desks. Shivers ran down their spines, but they said nothing, briefly stilling their movements. Vhix followed, curious as to what Yorak had planned.

"Ready the cannon," Vhix ordered. "Aim for the satellite." Vhix got an answer quickly. Target was locked. "Fire." A small blast was fired from the wide array of weapons the ship had access to, but it was enough to destroy the small satellite on the Coeus. They waited for a few minutes, then a few minutes turned into twenty-five. Movement was spotted on the outer surface of the Coeus. The person wore Paladin armor, but it wasn't the color Yorak wanted. The Paladin was red. Caleb was close enough. It would motivate Kyla to react faster.

"Fire on the Paladin." An onslaught of blasts was released from the ship onto the Coeus. Caleb barely had time to duck and hide when the shots began to ricochet off the metallic surface and onto his face. "Intercept his call."

"Sec to Coeus, I need assistance!" Caleb said over his ear piece, his pleas being heard by not only the Coeus, but also Yorak's crew. "Sec to Coeus!"

"Jax to Sec, incoming assistance." Yorak smiled creepily as Kyla's voice responded to Caleb's plea. Sure enough, the Black Lion emerged from the massive ship, roaring away. Along with it came the other three Lions dragging a fourth along with them.

"Griffin to Sec, where are you located?" Another female voice came over the transmission. Before Caleb could answer, another blast landed next to him. His scream echoed over the transmission. He was safe, relatively speaking. His armor protected him from any sort of debris. The shockwaves hurt like quiznack, though.

"Hold!" Kyla called out. Another blast came from Yorak's ship. "I said hold!"

"Let's listen to her, shall we?" Yorak said, much too pleased with himself. The Black Lion had flown to a stop in front of Yorak's ship. "Hello, Kyla."

"What do you want?" Her voice was cold, hard, and angry. Yorak smiled again.

"I want you to listen to me." Yorak leaned forward, imagining Kyla was doing the same. "Join me or watch your precious team be destroyed."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh really?" The cannon mounted on the front of the ship lit up with purple energy, aimed directly at the Coeus. The Black Lion stood firm in its path, but it wouldn't be a match. "Your choice, Kyla. Join me, or die." She sat in silence in the cockpit. No words were exchanged, none of the Lions made a move. The Green Lion was perched on the Coeus, shielding Caleb and the satellite from further destruction. Blue held Red by a long tether, with Yellow directly above them.

"Fine." Kyla sounded defeated, but defiant. Perfect. "Don't hurt them."

"Of course, Kyla." The communication cut off as the orders were given to open the hatch. The Black Lion was pulled in by a traction beam, disabling the energy inside the Lion. As the Black Lion was being brought into the transport bay of the Yorak's ship, the rest of the crew of the Coeus could only look on in silence.

Almost giddy, Yorak went down to the transport bay to meet his new comrade. Kyla wore her black and white Paladin armor with violet cuffs around her wrists. She wasn't fighting the soldiers who grabbed her roughly by the arms.

"Well, then." Yorak shooed off the guards, taking their place on Kyla's arms. "Now we can have our little party."

"Little?"

"Yes." Yorak shoved Kyla forward to the other side of the ship, where the huge telecommunications happened. "We're going to announce the Fire's return to the entire universe."

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the-lightning-strikes-again · 4 years

Text

Review Replies for The Second Law Chapter 14

Thanks to the following awesome people for reviewing my Lotura fic, The Second Law, last chapter: LunarMagnolia, Geeeny, Rosenthorne, EllieDoll, mutedtempest, AfroditeOhki, NickyADon, Paranomrally_Normal, Krisari, TiffanyBlue, Espanholina, CherryVelvetQueen, Brynn, RogueSareth, Star-gazer, DestiniesEntwined, UltraFirelily, mintpearlvoice, graciebuns, Ecrire_Call_me_ment, MystiTrinqua, Qwennie, and Smallblaa!

You can read individual review replies below! :)

LunarMagnolia: Ahhh omg thank you so much for your very kind and extended review! Yaaas, let the princess be cared for! She needs it so much, omg. And guh, I’m so happy you enjoy the banter among the various characters! Thank you as always for your support!

Geeeny: Oh my goodness, words cannot describe how much that means to me, bless! Thank you for continuing to read and review TSL!

Rosenthorne: Thank you for your review! Yes, lots of things are in a bit of a disarray at the moment, haha—definitely a system problem in this story. XD And ahh thanks for your vote! This upcoming chapter is a little shorter, so I hope that works better for you.

EllieDoll: Ahh, thank you so much for your thoughts here. I try really hard to make an immersive experience! But yoooo valid to be suspicious of wild lurking Haggars! Yaas, Lotor and Allura both are so precious, I love them. And bwahaha omg, an “annual” mind-sex jamboree celebration, complete with banners and marketing materials. XD As always, thank you so much for your support!

Mutedtempest: Yoooo I think you got a good point about Allura protesting too much about that druid mind-meld being comparable to sex, loll. But yeah, there’s definitely a lot of tensions, and I’m hoping to grapple with those while also trying to move forward/beyond them too. So we’ll see where this next chapter takes us there, haha. Again, thank you so much for your support on this story. It really means a lot!

AfroditeOhki: “Taken by milkshakes, granola bars, and whatever mind-sex jamborees” LOLL. This comment made me giggle so much. Thank you for coming back to this story and reviewing it!

NickyADon: Oof, you bring up a really good point about maybe why Allura hurt/comfort isn’t so often seen in the archive. Although loll perhaps even this past chapter still counts as whump, since that can include a character getting sick. XD TSL has spent a lot of time focusing on Lotor’s ailments, so I definitely wanted to take an opportunity to explore Allura’s physical and mental state after so much has happened. Either way, I’m so happy you’re still enjoying this story!! I really enjoy the challenge of trying to hold in tension all of the different characters and their perceptions. And guh, yaaas, I love the generals! I’m looking forward to seeing more of them and seeing our renewed Alliance come to form! Thank you again so much!

Paranormally_Normal: Thank you, dear, for reading and reviewing! It’s not a baby, but it’s definitely in reference to something really important! This next chapter starts to unravel that mystery a little bit more. Thank you again!

Krisari: Ahhh, thank you so much for continuing to hang out in this fandom space, even though it definitely does feel a lot quieter. I’m doing what I can to make sure that Lotura fandom doesn’t die, haha. And I feel very inspired by your review! To answer your question, I do have a short reference to Allura’s struggle in the upcoming chapter. I do think, in speaking of the humanity of Team Voltron, that if Haggar hadn’t interfered, they would have likely put Lotor back in his s5 shame tube and worked out some kind of justice/trial to determine next best steps. That’s what Coran refers to in the last chapter, anyway. It seems like Haggar’s interference really heightened tensions in a big way, and that even Lotor has some blame for creating an unwinnable situation too….But yeah, haha. Lots of tensions and problems to grapple with, but also hopefully more hope than what was provided in canon! And thank you again for your reviews!

TiffanyBlue: Bless, thank you so much for that very high compliment! This story is two years old now, and I’m so humbled and appreciative that you’ve continued to return to it and provide feedback and support. It means a lot! And yaaas, oh man, the mind-share might halfway have been a plot device so I wouldn’t have to grapple with a massive retailing, but the more I got into it, the more I loved the idea that Allura and Lotor could feel each other’s emotions and the genuine character of their memories. And yaaas, Allura is a bab and deserves care too. Thank you so much for your review!

Espanholina: Ahh thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I’d love to get to the point of reconciliation and defeating that nasty witch, haha. This upcoming chapter might help to move us in that direction! As always, I appreciate your support!

CherryVelvetQueen: Yoo thank you for all of those kudos and for your review as well! I have hopes of seeing it through to its completion, so I hope this upcoming and future chapters can continue to meet your expectations for it. Thank you so much for your support!

Brynn: Words cannot describe how very thankful I am for not just your review of this past chapter but also for your reviews of all the entire story as well! This year has been quite the mind-twist between the COVID pandemic and several other disasters, but your reviews throughout March and April helped to inspire me and give me something to look forward to. So thank you again! To answer your Chapter 14 question (also yaaas I love Zethrid so much too!), I did end up doing a little scientific research into planetary atmospheres and the conditions that upset them. So I tried to integrate that as best as I could as a salute to the intelligence of Pidge and Hunk’s characters! But of course I’m no expert, haha. Regarding your Chapter 1 review, oof, it was definitely haunting for me as well to think about the chapter 1 Lotor clones after what they showed of Lotor in season 8, guh. And yaas, omg we definitely got robbed of Lotor interacting with Earth culture, but I hope to remedy that in several ways in this story! Hunk and Romelle mean a lot to me too, so I’m so happy that you enjoy what they bring to this story. They really feel like underutilized characters in a lot of ways. And thanks so much for your thoughts on how I write Lance in this story! He’s definitely a squirrely character by virtue of how he’s presented in the canon show. I really wanted him to exhibit less toxic behaviors and more supporting behaviors for his team and especially with Allura and with her interests. ALSO YAS, CATCH ME LAUGHING IN MINIMUM WAGE TOO, lol. Anyways, thank you so much for your reviews and your support! It means so much!

RogueSareth: I feel like in so many books and shows, the battle aftermath gets totally glossed over? So I really wanted to give a nod to that, because I think even the aftermath can show something important about our characters! I’m thankful you enjoyed that addition! And thank you so much for your ongoing support with this story!

Star-gazer: Thank you for your review and for continuing to read TSL!! It means a lot!

DestiniesEntwined: Wow thank you for all of your wonderful thoughts and high compliments here! I feel you, on desperately needing a break from all that high-tension battle, haha. I think this next chapter will also function as a “rest” chapter too. And ahhh, yaas, the mind share was so fun! I really do take a lot of interest in the similarities and differences between “clonetor” and “original/TSL Lotor.” I definitely want them to feel similar, but that there’s these behavior patterns that are informed by their unique experiences?? And ahhh thank you for your thoughts on chapter length as well! This next one is a little more condensed and not so long, so hopefully that better fits the amount of content you like to read at one time. Thank you again! And yes, I’m doing much better at this point—just trying to not get sick again in this COVID world, lol.

Ultrafirelily: Oh my goodness, I feel the same way! Like, why didn’t Lotor take two seconds to explain why he just assassinated Narti in front of everyone? Canon bothers me for a lot of reasons, lol, and that’s definitely one. To that point, I love the generals as well! And yeahh, I definitely feel like clonetor would have had a reason of some kind for why he did what he did. Here’s to hoping we can grapple with that a bit in this story. Thank you so much for your ongoing reviews and support, especially considering that this story is now 2 years old. It means a lot!

Mintpearlvoice: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, dear! I appreciate it!

Graciebuns: As always, your reactions to these chapters just uplift my whole spirit! Thank you dear! I really liked the potential of Shadam, even the messy tension between them, so I hope to close the loop on that in some way. And yaaas, omg Lotura in this fic pleasantly frustrates me because I just want to smash them together in a kiss, but there’s so much tension between them as well! We definitely know they’ve got something going on per all that nsfw hand-holding and mind-sex, and TSL being jealous of VLD Lotor, though. XD And the beginning of dat “bond claim” is definitely gonna come back, haha. Thank you again for all of your reviews and support. I’m very grateful!

Ecrire_Call_me_ment: Ahh thank you for your review and for checking out this story in the midst of your Voltron nostalgia! I really love Zethrid, too. I feel like her character wasn’t really explored to the extent that I would have loved. I’m hoping to show more of her in future chapters. Thank you again~

MystiTrinqua: I’m so happy that this story could function to make your day better! And oof, yeah I really enjoy writing Pidge in this story, haha. I catch feelings a lot for these paladins, omg a;sdfa;adjlf. Anyway, thank you so much for your reviews and your support both on AO3 and on tumblr! It means a lot!

Qwennie: Thank you for reading and reviewing! I appreciate it!

Smallblaa: Oh wow, what a treat to see your name appear again! I hope you made it okay through the twitter bullying and through your schooling as well. Life can definitely be tough sometimes! And I definitely understand how current circumstances can beat a person down even more right now. I fight that a lot too. So I really appreciate you taking a chance to come back to this story and read and review it. Thank you, thank you!!

#The Second Law #Review Replies #guh thankie so much #i really appreciate it y'all #your feedback has kept me going #I can't believe this story is 2 years old now!#thank you for supporting my work!

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