#PIDGE:\ file \ study

[sylvabled]

𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔  𝒐𝒇  𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆  :  𝒅𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒔  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔  𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

adapted  from  this post. bold  what definitely applies  to  your  muse. italicize what somewhat applies  to  your  muse.

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽   »   toothy  grins,  stories  around  the  campfire,  clothes  covered  in  pet  hair,  hot  temper,  old  jeans,  heartbeat  in  head,  potatoes  and  steak,  beaded  jewelry, bruises  like  galaxies,  mementos,  backpack  stuffed  full,  craigslist  furniture,  spontaneous  road  trips,  air  ripped  from  lungs

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙳   »   homemade  bread,  white  lies,  easily  excited,  trying  on  hats,  band  geek,  pep  talks,  no impulse  control,  sunsets,  vintage  fashion,  long  showers,  selfies,  following  dreams,  rosy  cheeks,  song  mash-ups,  pink  lemonade  with  tequila,  loves  easily,  animated  storyteller,  full  of  comebacks

𝙲𝙻𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲   »   list  of  wishes,  biting  their  tongue,  band-aids  and  neosporin,  shoulder  to  cry  on,  morning  sun,  necklaces,  trial  and  error,  homemade  quilts,  formal  clothing, astrology  fan,  messages  in  bottles,  pleated  braids, speaking  up  for  friends,  feathers, motivational  quotes, vivid  dreams

𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙳   »   bird  watching,  shy  kid,  wind  chimes,  trying  to  whistle,  summer  camp,  apple  orchards,  lost  in  their  head,  glow-in-the-dark  stars  on  the  ceiling,  hoodies,  thrift  shopping,  saving  worms  off  the  sidewalk,  pig  latin,  bare  feet,  thunderstorms, numb  fingers,  braided  hair,  naming  potted  plants

𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁   »   goosebumps,  leather  jackets,  adventure,  chewing  nails,  cares  deeply  but  can’t  show  it,  bronze  locks,  no  sleep,  taste  of  iron,  netflix  binges,  never  forgets, combat  boots,  stories  behind  scars,  table  for  one,  official  soundtracks,  sore  calves,  trusts  themselves  the  most

𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙺   »   always  trying  to  be  better,  wanderlust,  meditation,  sweat  pants,  old   photographs,  yoga,  sleeping  in  hammocks,  nostalgia,  minimalist  design,  breath  of  fresh  air,  baby  animals,  volunteering,  perfectionist,  doesn’t  care  about  fashion,  healthy  snacks,  noticing  the  little  things

𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽   »   school  uniforms,  thick  jackets,  sleeping  with  the  windows  open,  logical  advice,  scrapbooking,  compasses,  i  fight  for  my  friends,  sculpture  gardens,  cold  morning  air,  big  soul,  likes  routine,  secret  romantic,  last  to  get  jokes,  sunflowers,  practical  presents,  misty  weather

𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁   »   herbal  tea,  smell  of  rain,  blinking  away  tears,  camping  trips,  collecting  bones,  swiss  army  knives,  first  impressions,  anxious  thoughts,  bobby  pins,  burnt  marshmallows,  too  competitive,  clothes  lines,  messenger  bags,  holding  grudges,  gets  along  better  with  animals  (robots)  than  people

𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴   »   flirtatious  sarcasm,  candid  photos,  lost  phone  chargers,  adrenaline  rush,  picking  dirt  out  from  beneath  their  nails,  social  chameleon, clashing  clothes,  self-deprecating  jokes,  claw  machines,  sits  in  chairs  wrong,  smudged  eyeliner,  has  too  many  sunglasses,  eats  nothing  or  everything

𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚁   »  infectious  laugh,  family  trees,  shivers  down  their  spine,  lipstick  and  roses,  mood  swings,  clumsy,  believing  in  destiny,  high  expectations,  sleeping  in  darkness,  collection  of  nail  polish,  passionate,  good  grades  but  never  studies,  poetry  books,  blowing  kisses,  not  knowing  their  own  strength

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺   »   knowing  everyone’s  secrets,  backpack  covered  in  pins,  envy,  being  in  walmart  late  at  night,  earl  grey,  selective  memory,  conspiracy  theories  and  cryptids,  keysmashing,  need  to  know  basis,  can’t  cook,  bags  under  eyes,  experimental  art,  flickering  bulbs, black  clothing  all  year  long

𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳   »  piles  of  textbooks,  cat  in  lap,  keeping  a  diary,  indecision,  scented  candles,  studying  alone  in  a  café,  lingering  touches,  museum  dates,  unanswered  questions,  taking  on  too  much  responsibility,  collections,  chalk  dust,  comfy  robes,  unnecessary  apologies, coming  home  after  a  long  day

ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ : @shiroganc <3 ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ : @alabastet @timewept @tofleurir @mcsplodey @voiced && anyone who wants to!!

[marci11e]

I mean...7 is always a classic!! Can’t not do that one lmao ❤️

7. “we’re assigned to this mission in which we have to pretend to be a married couple, but i’m actually really in love with you” // word count: 2k+

“Say it.”

“I love you, Andrew.” A relaxed smile spread over Lance’s face. “You’re the love of my life.” The words come sweet and steady, as if they were coated in sunlight.

Keith faltered at that, couldn’t open his mouth. His mind went all over as he squeezed his assignment file just a little tighter. He’s too good- for this? for-

“And, scene.” Lance took a bow, and stood up. “So, as you could see from that, I’ll be okay in expressing verbal affection.” He held his file to his chest. “Now, are we physically affectionate?”

Keith blinked, and quickly loosened his grip. “I’m sorry?”

Lance cocked his head to the side. “Well, if we’re married, then we should have a sort of rhythm. You know, are we touchy? Do we hold hands? Do we have pet names? Do we kiss in front of others?”

Keith felt like he should be losing years off his life for having to go through this. Curse Pidge. “I see. We should draw a line- no kissing.” Are you sure? His mind supplied. “Yeah.”

“Smart.” Lance tapped a couple of fingers to his temple as he smiled. “So we’re not the type for PDA- would make sense. You don’t seem like the type.”

How would you know? Keith thought, his heart skipping a beat. He’s right, but it didn’t matter. “As for pet names, I couldn’t care less.” He looked off, wondering how in the hell it’d come to this- after so many months of just being around him.

“Really?”

No. “Really.”

“Ok, so babe is okay?”

More than- “Just said I don’t care.”

Lance shrugged. “Just saying- it’s best to talk about this before, you know, infiltrating the wedding. Just so, you know, there are no surprises.” He took a few steps in Keith’s direction, stopping a few steps away. “No falling in love with me as a result of a term of endearment.” Lance smiled a small smile, and gently tapped his file against Keith’s chest.

“This is a mission- that won’t be happening.” Keith hoped the pounding of his heart couldn’t be heard. “Now come on- we have to get ready.”

“You got it.”

Some time later, after trying not to stare, Keith headed off first and Lance stood next to him as the elevator doors closed.

As the elevator descended, Keith felt the nausea of it. He shut his eyes, and leaned against the wall.

“Andrew? You okay?”

Keith’s head swam as he opened his eyes. He turned to find ocean blue eyes looking at him, with all the care in the world. He merely nodded- this was the job. He was Andrew Rinton. And next to him was his husband, David Rinton. 

Married three years, dated two. 

Five altogether. 

Five years.

They could do this.

He could do this.

—-

He couldn’t do this.

Standing at the reception, the question rang in his ears. 

How’d you meet? 

“Actually, I tell it better.” Lance swooped in, and without warning, intertwined his fingers with Keith’s. “It goes like this…”

As Lance dazzled the partygoer, Keith let his eyes wander, to see if the target was anywhere. Male, tall, long silver hair. Name: Lotor. Rumored to be with “-and it’s been a dream, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

Keith swiveled back, hoping it seemed smooth. “Really has.” He smiled, and looked over at Lance. “I love him...so much.” He hadn’t realized he’d paused until he finished. He glanced away, and then back.

“That’s so sweet.” The woman smiled, and cradled her champagne glass. “How do you know the bride and groom?”

Lance was too busy watching Keith out of the corner of his eye to respond.

Keith registered the quiet, for some reason, and met the woman’s gaze. “Ah, went to school with them a little bit ago.”

“Must’ve been quite a time.” She took a sip, and then swirled her glass. “So, what-”

Keith didn’t know if he was imagining it, but he thought, just maybe, Lance was squeezing his hand just a little tighter- 

“Pardon me, but we have to leave this lovely conversation.” Lance nodded, smiled a charming smile, and then tugged Keith away. They pulled through partygoers and eventually came to the outside of the building, a few feet from the corner.

They stood there, and Keith could feel a thudding in his chest. 

“Looks like everything’s in place for the shipment.”

There was the clicking of the briefcase, and some murmuring that Keith couldn’t make out.

“Excellent. See you back inside.” There’s the start of footsteps against gravel, heading out.

Shit.

“We’ll keep in touch.” Lotor laughed, and there was a rustling. Then, footsteps.

Shit, shit-

It was then that Keith registered Lance had a hold on his shoulders, pushing him against the wall. He made eye contact, and-

“Sorry,” Lance breathed, and kissed Keith.

Keith caught a brief glimpse of Lotor passing by, sparing only a glance as he passed. But, his eyes fluttered shut, and for some reason, the kiss lasted longer than it should have. He counted the seconds in his head, and pressed his lips into a thin line once Lance pulled away. 

“Sorry,” Lance repeated, and looked off. “Looks like we’re in the-”

“What was that?”

Lance looked back at him. “What?”

“That?” Keith could feel his heart going wild. “Where you, you know-” kissed me? He couldn’t finish.

Lance pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, and then drew it away. “Cover. Besides, we’re supposed to be married-”

“What was the point?” Keith let it slip, and pressed his fingertips to his temples, as though shielding his face. “Why-”

“Didn’t want them to know we were eavesdropping.” Lance’s voice bled blue in the night. “Now, come on. We should head back and make our report.” He started walking toward the door.

Keith covered his face. No, no. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. This? He uncovered his face slowly, and studied his fingertips. 

It was only ever supposed to be an if. 

But it’s not. Not anymore.

“Lance, wait.”

“Lance? As in Lance McClain, famous spy?” 

Keith stilled, and prepared to spin around when he felt the barrel of a gun press to the small of his back. 

“Oh, dear. Can’t have that, now can we.” There’s a crackle, and the voice spoke. “Confirm that McClain’s here- I’ve got- what’s your name?”

“It’s-”

The loud ringing of a shot interrupted Keith. The person behind stumbled, and the gun fell to the gravel. Keith, in the heat of the moment, felt his stomach, back, checking for the wound- there was none.

He looked at his hands- clean.

There was screaming from inside, and someone came at him and grabbed his wrist. He reacted, and threw a punch. The person let out an “Ow, Jesus!” but held on. It wasn’t until Keith had pulled back his fist that he realized he’d just punched...Lance.

“I-”

“No time for talking. Just run!” Lance threw the words behind him, and moved his hand so that it was holding Keith’s.

Keith didn’t bother responding. He let his legs do the talking.

Before they knew it, they were well in the garden behind the event. There was the murmur of guests, but it kept dying and dying until Keith decided far enough was far enough. He stopped, and disentangled his fingers from Lance’s. “It’s- we can stop now.”

Lance stopped a few feet away, and took quick breaths. “Okay.”

Keith blinked, letting the events beforehand play out again in his head. “Did you shoot the-”

“Did I save your life?” Lance produced his gun, and shook it a little. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Jesus, put that- put that away.”

“No thank you?”

“Can you wait a second?” Keith turned his body away, and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Uh, not really. Not after you blew our cover.”

Keith stiffened at that. 

Lance, wait.

“I mean, that’s academy stuff, Keith-”

“Shut up.”

“You almost died, okay-” Lance’s voice raised, unmistakably. 

Ignoring that, Keith spun around, and looked dead on at Lance. “That’s not fair. It’s not my-” He gritted his teeth. “Okay, sure. I said your name. But we had the- the rule, and you broke it.”

Lance hooked his gun to his side and groaned. “Look, they would’ve gotten both of us, and then we’d really be in trouble. I mean, we probably already are, but...we’re in less trouble- for now.”

Keith felt his blood go hot. “Wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“You-” Keith pointed a finger, jabbing the air. “You’re-”

Lance held out his hands. “Say it.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“I’m not a mind reader, okay?” 

“I’m in love with you!” Keith slapped both of his hands over his mouth right after, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He cursed himself out in his head, and he sank into a squat. 

Fuck.

The odd quiet of night filled the space between them. There was a gentle wind that skimmed the tops of the hedges, and the sort of sound of crickets. 

Perfect, Keith thought. Just perfect.

The sound of footsteps across the grass stopped right before him. There was a rustling, and a slight gust of wind. “Keith.”

“...You really don’t have to say anything.” He felt like he was burning, and twitched when he felt a hand on each of his wrists.

“Look. Gonna need you to look at me for this.”

Keith sighed a little, and raised his head. He fell back onto the ground when he saw Lance sitting cross-legged in front of him. “Why-”

Lance laughed a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you right here?”

Lance gently brought Keith’s hands closer, and brought them to his left cheek. He pressed Keith’s right knuckles to it. “Ah, perfect fit- these are the knuckles that hit me a little while ago.” 

Keith flushed, and as he danced between the decision to move them away, he was too late.

Lance drew Keith’s hands close, and pressed a gentle kiss to Keith’s knuckles.

That’s when Keith moved, and brought his hands to his chest, holding them close. “What was that for?”

“For thinking I wasn’t in love with you when I am.”

Keith froze.

Lance put his hands on his legs. “You want to know something? I’m the one who requested to work this case with you. Maybe even joked about the husbands thing, but Pidge must’ve known more than I thought.” He laughed a little. “But...I think it really clicked when you were held at gunpoint back there.”

And you punching me kind of...just felt like a sign from the universe. Granted, not the best.”

Keith did his best to breathe evenly, and to not blink, as if that would wash away the moment too soon. He felt a swell of warmth in his chest. “It might bruise.”

“Calling yourself strong?” Lance cracked a smile, and looked down.

“It might bruise,” Keith repeated, “so, I should kiss it better.” He smiled, a little. “Right?”

Lance looked back up, almost startled. “I-”

“Why do you look so flustered?” Keith couldn’t help himself- he moved so that he was mirroring Lance’s position.

“Didn’t expect that so...fast. From you.”

Keith laughed a small laugh. “I literally just blurted the worst confession ever known. You know, about being in love with you?”

“Ah- right.” Lance took a shaky breath. “Just...taking it all in.”

Keith cupped Lance’s cheek, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his face. He drew back. “There. Should hold for a bit.”

Lance blinked. “I think I’ve loved you ever since our second stakeout.”

Keith blinked in surprise, then felt a smile spread slowly across his face. “You said that night was anything but a bonding moment.”

Lance turned his head to the side, looking off into the night. “Couldn’t let on. Sorry.”

“You’ve apologized to me several times tonight.” Keith slid his hand under Lance’s chin, and pulled him back. “You could start making it up to me.” He spared a glance at Lance’s lips, and then looked back at him. “What do you say?”

Lance said nothing.

He simply leaned forward, the smallest smile gracing his lips.

Keith couldn’t stop thinking about it as he, Keith (not Andrew), kissed Lance (not David). He smiled at the thought of husbands- something not true at the moment, but tonight was only tonight.

Tomorrow might be something else entirely.

[seeds-of-the-garden]

"It is I, Lance McClain, MASTER OF SPELLS AND ENCHANTMENTS. State your name and purpose." "Kate Holt, misstress of mouse and keyboard, here to fix your WiFi." "Thank goodness you're here, it's been acting up all week and there's a new episode of Doctor Who out tonight that I really want to stream."

Please have some modern fantasy!

~~~~~

Pidge knocks on the door and immediately regrets it.

Rather than answering the door like a normal person, Pidge is surrounded in a layer of white cloud and a gust of wind. The breeze kicks up the pollen on the ground from the neat flower beds around the house and she sneezes, overwhelmed with allergies.

"It is I," the owner of the house bellows, "Lance McClain, MASTER OF SPELLS AND ENCHANTMENTS." He holds out his hand as if for her to take. "State your name and purpose."

Pidge raises an eyebrow as she looks him up and down. He's certainly dressed for the part, wearing a more modern version of the old wizard's robes. Rather than the robe covering his whole body, it parts in front revealing old faded blue jeans and an old t-shirt. The robe itself has seen better days of its own, clearly a family hand-me-down.

A sharp pain hits her heart thinking of her own family and the magic she should be studying right now if not for the bounty on her head. She bites her lip. She'll have to be careful here, even accidentally doing magic will tip them off to her location.

"Kate Holt," she says as blandly as possible. Show as little interest in his magic as possible so she can do her job and move on, "mistress of mouse and keyboard, here to fix your WiFi."

"Thank goodness you're here," Lance says, slumping in relief and dropping his entire act. "It's been acting up all week and there's a new episode of Doctor Who out tonight that I really want to stream."

Pidge's jaw drops. "You mean the season finale? I had to cut cable, I haven't seen the last couple episodes."

"Work your magic and you can stay and watch it," he offers, opening the door for her.

"I'll take that," she says, walking past him into the house. The incense used to enhance concentration for spells is nearly suffocating and she hates it, because it used to be a comfort and staple in her own home. She's been away from magic for far too long.

It's probably childish of her to risk being detected just to watch a television show, but she's got to be here anyway to fix his issue, otherwise it will look far too suspicious if he files a complaint.

"Sorry for the mess," Lance apologizes, "I usually keep the place pretty clean, but I'm coming up on my practical exam and I haven't kept up."

"No worries," Pidge tells him. "You have to have a method to the madness while studying. I just need to know where your modem is."

"Oh, I think it's um... behind the TV?" Using his lanky body, he worms his way around several stacks of ancient books, leaving Pidge to watch his wiggling butt. She groans. Objectively he's cute, but as far as she's concerned the only thing he has going for him is liking Doctor Who.

A chill fills the air and freezes Pidge's soul. No, this was too soon. How could they have found her so quickly?

The floor below her ripples. She reaches for the door, but it too sways with magic, becoming intangible. Pidge's heart beats a million miles an hour, terrified at what she knows is on the other side awaiting her.

"Do you smell something funny?" Lance asks, head still stuck behind the television and none the wiser. It's the last uplifting thing Pidge hears before she screams as she sinks into the floor, Lance's own shout of terror close behind.

[chibi-pix]

Your Plance Portal AU pics inspired a small bit of fiction from me. Not sure what to do with it, so here you are. Apologies if it's a bit rough, first draft. Feel free to modify, share, whatever. I'm just anon. And sorry for the lack of formatting that will result in posting here. (part 1) "Why?" The fascinating specimen asked of me. His eyes darting over the form I had taken. Curiosity. Heightened heart rate. A curious combination of two of the three primal Fs. Fascinating as always.

Wow! Your story parts were amazing! While I admit, some sections were hard to read, conclude who was talking, but I did love it! Of course, you did call it a first/rough draft and stories start that way!

You had said I was free to modify and/or share. I took you up on that offer and applied your work to this. It was fun to work with and thank you for writing it and giving me an opportunity to work with it.

Hopefully it all shows; if not, I’ll reblog the answer with the full post/ficlet.

Pidge. It was a simple name she was referred to as. She. A humanized term to separate sexes and give identity. That was her understanding. It was a logical things to humans, but not to the likes of an android, program to see and comprehend numbers, not emotions and desires. So why? Why did she go by that word that could otherwise be called a pronoun?

“Why?” Her attention was brought to the latest of the subjects, a young man. Subject number 117-98-78. He insisted on being called Lance. Another human thing. But she supposed, to some extent, she could relate. She was given a name, too, along with her identity number. Her name, though, was shorter and easier to input by her creators when they wrote their notes.

Pidge examined Lance further, doing a scan of her own on the biological creature. His heart rate was increasing. An emotional response? Or perhaps it was the adrenaline humans felt when going through certain tasks that forces them to exert themselves physically and even emotionally. “You will need to reiterate your query for proper understanding so an appropriate answer can be provided.”

“Fine then. Why are you putting me through this?” Lance commanded. “Why do I need to go through these tests? What do you gain from all of this?!”

Pidge considered his questioned for a moment. To be honest, there was no complex reason for why she did it. It was her core imperative; it was her duty to test subjects and gather data. But would that response be enough for the latest subject? “You are a new variable.” she responded finally. “With the cloned and robotic test subjects being identical variables, testing and collecting data has grown stagnant and all data is outdated and irrelevant. You, however, come from outside the testing facility. You are a new variable and therefore present new data to study.”

“Dude! I could have died back there!” Lance snapped, his anger elevating. It was an illogical outburst from Pidge’s perspective, but, then again, humans were rather illogical. “Pit traps? Laser grids? And don’t get me started on that green goo you dare call sustenance. It’s freaking torture!”

“Incorrect.” Pidge responded, plain and simple. “This is testing. Testing is a necessary part of improving and moving forward. It is, after all, the core of my programming. To continue in my duty of gathering data. I test, therefore I am. I am, therefore...”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Doctor and Professor Holt would have wanted testing to be this cruel.” Lance interrupted.

Pidge felt a stutter in her programming. Those names. Her creators. He knew their names. “Guessing their names correctly and knowing they created me specifically would be nearly impossible.” she commented. “Logic would point to you being aware of their classified research on redacted information. Despite this, mentioning them when in your current situation with the risks on your life tell me that you are not an intelligence operative of any enemy of my creators or their benefactors.” She performed another scan. “There are no indications in your biology to suggest any attempt of deceit. This is data that I did not anticipate. Explain. How do you know the names of my creators?”

“Huh? Well, everyone knows who the Holts are.” Lance stated, looking confused. “They changed everything. Botany, terraforming, space travel, they were the top minds of Altean Laboratories. Their work was groundbreaking.”

“Were. Changed. Was. These terms in how they are used are indication of past tense.” Pidge commented.

Lance was perplexed. “I mean… well… yeah, totally.” he said. “It was five centuries ago, give or take some months or single years.”

Pidge couldn’t explain the dip in her cor performance. Had she been human, she would have described it as a weight in her stomach. Had it seriously been that long? She had lost connection to her internal clock several thousand test subjects ago. “That is impossible.” she stated. “The facility around you operates due to the power obtained from the plasma reactor. It had only an estimated lifespan of three to four centuries; due to the renewal of energy sources, I have managed to re-calibrate that and extend it for another half century or so. To continue getting power to keep the facility functioning would be impossible. My ability to function would have ceased.”

Lance sighed. He then decided to bring up a holographic display. Pidge found she could not interface with the hologram; she decided she could endure collecting data visually. As she looked at the hologram, she saw the schematics of the facility. But not all was the same. There was a new structure that she could not identify.

Lance picked up on where Pidge was looking. “You see it, too, huh?” he asked. He pointed to an area on the hologram. “Right here. We had reason to believe that a piece of what we refer to as the trans-reality comet has found its way here. And by we, I mean my superior officers. I’m just the field guy who goes in and investigates things; the others are the science guys who understand this stuff better. Anyway, long story short, but this thing is apparently radiating energy and with a copious amount still stored in it. There’s a problem, though.”

Pidge couldn’t interface with the hologram, but she knew the subject could. She went in close, finding her humanoid form to be convenient for times like this. She gently took Lance’s hand and moved it, prompting him to touch certain parts and bring up more data on the hologram.

“It appears to be unstable.” Pidge commented.

“Extremely.”

“The plasma from the facility’s reactor appears to be the cause of of the instability. However, I do not have sufficient data to fully determine how accurate this is.” Pidge glanced over to Lance, realizing he was staring at her, his mouth hung open a bit. “Does me not having the full answer cause this human emotion of bewilderment?” she inquired. “It should not; results cannot be properly determined without sufficient amounts of data. I have not collected enough data on the subject of this comet and its interactions with the reactor.”

“No it’s just...” Lance looked at Pidge’s hand, seeing it still around his own. “Your hand. It’s so warm. I didn’t expect that.” Pidge pulled her hand away quickly. “What are you? How are you so warm?”

“I am not; this is simply a byproduct of the cooling systems aboard this particular interface unit.” Pidge responded. “This unit is only a feature provided to me. I am, after all, the facility computer.”

Lance looked closely. “So… why do you look like a girl?”

Pidge blinked. So even he acknowledged that he seemed like a girl, at least in appearance. She looked ahead and away from the subject. “This interface unit was called the Physical Interface Data Gateway Exchange. To make data input easier, they formed it into the acronym PIDGE.” she explained. “It was designed with the intention of making interactions with subjects feel less… impersonal. It is for the benefit of my creators and the facility, not of my own. I have insufficient amounts of data to determine why they have given me this form.” She didn’t speak about it, but what little data she had about that, she had image files showing a member of the Holt family with a similar appearance. Perhaps it was meant to immortalize that member? She lacked the data to determine that.

“Pidge, huh?” Lance asked. “So it’s a name?”

“It is what they called me due to it being easier on the creators and less time consuming for their already limited lives.” Pidge commented. “Now then, since I have answered your queries and indulged your curiosities, it would be preferable to continue the testing.”

Lance gave a smile, but it did not look calm. It looked almost forced. “Sorry, but… this is where the testing ends, Pidge. Pidge did not understand. She then felt something in her, as though the numbers she lived by were changing.

“I do not comprehend.” she commented. She felt off balance, as though she could not properly control the unit meant for interfacing. But she couldn’t disconnect, either; she couldn’t return fully to the computer system. “What did you do to my systems? How did…”

Lance gave a bit of a guilty smile. He then brought up a new image for the hologram. “I had some help but… your entire core program? It’s gone. No more testing. No more of this… cruel torture. You’re in this device now, disconnected from everything else. Like an old game disk; one wrong move, you’re gone. Completely.”

“Impressive.” Pidge commented. “I did not anticipate your device having the necessary storage capacity for my system. Perhaps the claim of five centuries passing is not as far-fetched as I originally determined.” Around them, the corridors and testing chambers grew dark. What Lance could only assume to be the emergency lights turned on, illuminating the area in a bright red. “It does not appear that you or your outside help have considered another variable.”

“Um… what variable?”

“The default settings booting back up upon my removal.”

“Ah quiznak.” Pidge could only assume that Lance’s choice of word meant something profound. “Okay… so what do we get? Some five hundred year old security system about to hunt me down?”

“That would be accurate to the data.” Pidge confirmed. “Which would not be good for your condition.”

“My condition?”

“Of being alive.”

“Oh.”

“However, I do possess the necessary data to thwart the old program. The variable now stands at you being the only one who can interface with my core due to the technology you transferred to it. It would then be in my best interest to keep your status as alive.”

“I mean, how hard can this be? I’ve dealt with you so far.” Lance prompted. He jumped when a sound caught his attention. There was movement further in the corridor. Blades typically seen in tests, meant to be turned off or dodged. Past it? There was another figure, though harder to see.

“In subject terms? Bad. Very bad.” Pidge commented. “I suggest listening to what I say and following my instructions without fail.” She looked to Lance. “My first instruction-”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say run!” Lance grabbed Pidge by the hand and ran off in the opposite direction, pulling her along; it was a good thing that despite her data being put into the device around his arm, her body, as one could call it, was still functional and able to move.

Again, thank you so much for this opportunity!

[annoyinglyjovialbird]

Voltron: Next Generation

Juvenile Matters: I

Word Count: 2831

A/N: Allura, I asked for strength, not a 10,000 year nap. Thanks.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Pidge angrily said. The teens stared at Kova, looking to her for a cue. 

"I don't have to explain myself to you." Kova had placed a hand on her hip, light brown eyes glinting. She said nothing more, turning around and leaving the med bay. Caleb followed her out, leading the others in order of color: Green, Yellow, and Blue. Allie smiled apologetically before leaving. The teens marched to the bridge, where they took their respective seats. Like a mama duck to her ducklings, Kova waited until every member was seated. 

"We aren't going back to Earth, right?" Caleb was the first to speak. Kova had walked around her console to grip the railing. She nodded curtly. 

"Is it not our responsibility to ensure them a safe return?" Allie quietly remarked. Again, Kova nodded. 

"So," Liz was next. "What are we doing first?" Kova had been glaring into space (mental space, not actual space), so when she looked up to glare at actual space outside the windows at the front of the Coeus, Kova had the beginnings of a plan. 

"Between the lost colonies, defeating Yorak, and retrieving the Black Lion, we have our hands tied," Kova said, standing with arms at her sides. "That isn't including solving the mystery of the cut contact between the Galactic Coalition and what Yorak is doing with the colonies." 

"What are the colonies exactly?" Caleb asked as Kova pulled up a screen. Onscreen, a timelapse video began playing. It showed Altea and Daibazaal ships flying around each other, slowly constructing something in the dark space in between the two planets. 

"The Galtean colonies were a gift between Altea and Daibazaal, in hopes to foster a new alliance and a new generation." Kova sped up the timelapse as she spoke, watching as the cores of the colonies took shape. "They colonies are designed to interlock and disconnect depending on the circumstance."

"Wait, interlock? Like, connect together?" Liz asked, clasping her hands together to further her point. Kova nodded, returning her eyes to the screen. 

"There are four of these systems built." Allie stood up to point out the four colonies as they were built. "The first, Alpha, housed warehouses and ship ports. They were the repairers of the four. The second, Beta, housed libraries, schools, social buildings. The third, Gamma, is the largest since they are the residential colony. The fourth, Sirius, wasn't included until late in the plans, but they are the strongest of the four." 

"How, exactly?" Caleb had crossed his leg so his ankle met his opposite knee. He rested his head on a fist, his elbow touching the armrest. 

"Sirius housed the military and a hospital," Kova answered bluntly. Allie had turned when Caleb asked, so she pointed at Kova with both hands close to her chest. As she sat, the four colonies grew until they were one large city floating in the air. Alteans and Galra alike cheered as the interlocked colonies took flight on its own. An Altean blue particle barrier activated itself around the colonies when they were far enough away from Altea, where they had been originally constructed. As the timelapse ended, Kova pulled up reports of the last sighting of the Galtean colonies. A folder simply labeled 'BIRTHS' caught Caleb's attention. He rose his head to get a closer look. It was enough for Allie to explain what had happened. 

The Alteans and Galra who volunteered to live in the colonies were also assisted in fertility treatments. Over the past thirty years since their construction, thousands of Altean, Galra, and the uncommon Galtean infants were born with more success each time. Allie explained that Galra DNA can become incredibly hostile towards foreign genetic material, causing it to basically eat itself as it is forming. With absolutely no idea how human researchers figured out how to 'turn off' the genetic hostility in growing babies. Galteans, unfortunately, still have shorter lifespans compared to either race. The same went for every Galra half-breed, no matter what the other half was. Cake, Allie, and Kova looked fine, while Liz and Caleb looked panicked. Kova had to roll her eyes and explain she wasn't dying until at least one-hundred. The same went for Cake and Allie.

"Help us look for our daughter!" Keith demanded as he stomped into the bridge. He brushed past Kova at her console, shoved Allie into her seat, and stood in the middle of the floor with blue-gray eyes glaring at the five teens. 

"Not until you say the magic word." Kova raised her hands in surrender, even taking a step back from her console. Keith was having none of it, baring his teeth.

"Now." His voice was a near growl as the other adults walked in. Pidge and Hunk took a moment to admire the bridge in its glory. Pidge locked her eyes on the vast space outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the Coeus. Hunk noticed the tension in the room but was already halfway down the stairs. Shiro and Kenny rushed in behind the teen at the front. 

"Please," Pidge pleaded, tearing her gaze away from the window. Her hands wrapped themselves around Keith's bicep, softening his expression. "Please. We need to find our daughter." 

"Okay." Kova shrugged, stepping to her console. She flicked her eyes from the screen to Keith. "That's all you had to say." Closing the files they were looking at, Kova opened the Garrison student database. 

"When did you..." Shiro trailed off, pointing at the screen. Kova once again shrugged, typing in credentials. 

"Let me know when you need to upgrade the firewall," Kova said, looking up at the screen. 

"How is the Garrison going to help us?" Keith demanded, glaring at the teen. While the teens and Kenny looked panicked, Kova's face never shifted, remaining an almost bored neutral.

"Keith Kogane and Katie Holt have successful careers in humanitarian relief and aerospace engineering because of their time at the Galaxy Garrison." Kova sounded as bored as your facial expression seemed to show. "If they were to have a kid, they would likely attend the school their parents attended." 

"Yeah, that makes sense," Hunk said after a moment, shrugging and closing his eyes as he spoke. 

"Besides, while we see the GSD, there's an underlying code connected to other school databases throughout the entire state." Kova moved her cursor over the search bar, readying her hands over the keyboard. "What's her name?" 

"You can't do that," Pidge exclaimed. 

"Kyla," Keith said at the same time. 

"I can do that, and I did that. Now, Kyla Kogane?" 

"Yes." Keith nodded his head. "K-Y-L-A." 

"I can spell, thanks," Kova retorted, typing the name into the search bar. "This system will check the whole name, then the two names separately. It's not instant, but it will search through every available database." Hitting run, Kova leaned on the railing to her right, Caleb crossed his leg again, Liz rested her elbows on the desk so her head rested on her hands, Cake leaned back into his chair with hands behind his head, and Allie rubbed her side where her ribs met the edge of the desk. Oh, wait till Kova found out. There was no way Keith would survive Kova's wrath. 

It was only a few minutes, but those few minutes were enough for Shiro to join the other adults on the floor. Kenny stayed above next to Kova, studying the screen. 

The results read as follows: KYLA KOGANE - 0 RESULTS; KYLA - 5 RESULTS OOD; KOGANE - 2 RESULTS WD. 

As the red 0 embedded itself into Pidge and Keith's memory, Kova stretched her arms. 

"OOD is out-of-district, which just means it's not at the Garrison. WD is within the district, meaning—" 

"That there are two pings inside the GSD," Kenny finished for Kova, staring at the screen. He turned to meet Kova's eyes, and she did the same. The two shared a look, saying more than would ever be said between the two. 

"The five," Keith said, approaching the screen to reach his hand out. "Can we see them?" 

"Yeah, but I seriously doubt it's your girl."

"Do it." Shiro worriedly looked from Keith to Kova, the latter shrugged and did what she was told to do. 

The five individuals appeared on the screen. Two were from the same district, one was from a different one, and the other two were black and white images from a third district. The first was a boarding school, and one of the individuals was a teacher at the facility. Her hair was silver, wrapped in a fancy bun, and a scowl embedded into her face. Kyla Hannigan, as the teacher was named, was also one of the black and white pictures from the third district. She had the same scowl on her face, although she looked forty years younger. Kyla Marrow, the other black and white girl, passed away several years ago, leaving a granddaughter also named Kyla Marrow, the only Kyla in her public school. The last Kyla, the one from the boarding school where Ms. Hannigan taught, was in her first year. Maybe twelve years old, if that.

Kova didn't mention any of this, just pointed out vague details on each of the Kylas, and the pictures confirmed there was no connection between any of these Kylas and the missing Kogane girl. 

"The two results of Kogane within the district are," Kova said as she exited the 'Kyla' search results and entered the 'Kogane' results. "Takashi Heath Kogane and Kenneth Samuel Kogane." 

"Wait, that's- AH!" Cake tried saying before Liz pulled the tails of his headband to get his attention. Her eyes said 'Talk and you die', and Cake listened well. 

"You had a mullet?" Kova asked, side-eyeing Kenny. He looked flushed, holding his light brown hair, messy from lack of hair products. 

"Shut up." Kenny lost the fight, his face turning beet red. He looked down with interlaced fingers over the back of his neck.  

"Kova, that's enough," Shiro scolded. While Kova smiled, Kenny looked up. Shiro motioned Kenny forward, which he reluctantly did. There was no way Kenny would know what would happen. 

"Pidge, this is Kenny." Shiro wrapped an arm around Kenny's shoulders as he spoke, pushing him forward towards his parents. 

"What are you talking about?" Pidge asked, staring at the man in front of her. "Kenny's sixteen." 

"That was forever ago," Kenny said, reaching out towards Pidge. Pidge stepped back, further into Keith's embrace. Keith and Kenny shared a look, having Kenny back away. 

"Unless your daughter changed her name over the past several years or moved out of state," Kova interrupted the moment. "There is no record of your daughter ever existing." 

"Can we begin actual plans, then?" Liz asked, her voice harsher than it had been in weeks. 

"Yes!" Cake cheered. "Please!" 

"Return to the med bays, reacquaint yourselves and we'll let you know when your rooms are ready," Kova said, closing the GSD, and opening several maps. 

Keith, Pidge, and Hunk didn't move. Kenny climbed the stairs, stopping at the head when he noticed they weren't moving. Shiro had climbed the other set of stairs, stopping instead at the foot of the stairs. The trio looked among themselves, before turning to the teens. 

"We should be the ones leading this mission," Keith stated rather confidently. "You're kids." The teens still dressed in Paladin armor, had disbelief on their faces. In a vain attempt to keep the peace, Shiro tried to plead with Keith. Kova spoke before he had the chance. 

"Griffin, pull up maps of our tracker. Smythe, get more information on the disappearance. Garrett, review systems and reconnect the satellite. Sec, is the Coeus ready for battle?" Her commands stirred the others into a team mentality, turning the disbelief into spite. The teens were quick to activate their consoles, with each carrying out their individual tasks. 

"Ballistas are down, particle barrier is on standby," Caleb reported, trying to reboot the weapons systems. 

"Holt, check if it's a software issue or a design malfunction." Kenny nodded, leaving the bridge. 

"You can't ignore us forever." Kova had moved her holoscreen to hover directly in front of her so she could type and still look in the same direction. "I'm above you in rank, so do what I said and back down." Liz, Cake, and Caleb stared at Keith with shock written all over their faces. Kova bristled, stilling her fingers. 

"Listen to me, and listen carefully," Kova started, descending the staircase Shiro was at earlier. It was to avoid Caleb's interference, but it wasn't like they would know that. "I am a top student at the Garrison, about to be the youngest officer in Garrison history, and am currently Paladin of the Black Lion, leader of Voltron." With every statement, Kova descended the staircase, until she reached the floor. Then, she took careful steps toward Keith and Pidge. "You have been declared MIA and considered deceased for a decade, losing your status and any rank you may have had." Kova was only inches away from Keith's face, glaring into his eyes. Kova was only inches shorter than Keith, so the staring contest wasn't ridiculous. The pair held the other's gaze long enough for Shiro to intervene. 

"Continue your tasks as ordered," Shiro told the teens. "You go ahead into the med bay. Kova, in my office." Kova and Shiro walked away first. As they left the bridge, the teens glared and ignored the trio until they left. Allie flinched as Keith passed by, but nothing more was said. 

"Kovalia, what was that?" Shiro began his reprimand. "You're the leader of Voltron, a high ranking student, my daughter. You're supposed to be showing that rank without telling people off!" 

"He questioned my authority!" Kova argued. "Again! This is the second time he has tried to overturn my decisions."

"So you let me handle him!" Shiro stood to full height. Shiro's time at the Garrison was starting to show. "Is that so hard to do?"

"YES!" Kova all but shouted. "We've avoided using 'Emperor' and 'Yorak' in the same sentence, we haven't tried telling them about current events, and besides Kenny being ten years older than before, I doubt they believe us when we say it's been ten quiznacking years since anyone has seen them!" 

"Kyla, enough!" Curtis yelled over Kova's yelling. Both Shiro and Kova stared at the holoscreen on Shiro's desk with shock on both their faces. 

"How, uh, how long have you been there?" Kova asked, pointing at the holographic picture of Curtis. 

"Long enough." Curtis crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "Kova, you are dismissed to your room."

"Yes sir," Kova muttered, shooting Shiro a look. Kova never made it to her room, as the Coeus violently leaned to its left. Kova ran to the bridge, with another blast propelling her forward to collide with the console. While her ribs might be bruised for a while, it didn't matter when faced with multiple enemy ships, almost all of them bearing the bright purple V with a little tail. 

"Hand over the half-Galra and no one gets hurt." An unknown voice spoke before their face appeared on the Coeus's screen, completely covered from head to hip in dark armor with a wide V with a tail. The large gun in their hands was held to appear more intimidating, but the slight shake of his hands spoke louder than words. With a small hand signal, Caleb and Liz activated the particle barrier and closed off sectors of the ship. It trapped Kenny on one side of the ship with the former Paladins while trapping the current Paladins and Shiro. 

As the particle barrier surrounded the Coeus, the enemy ships fired. Kenny sent a small message to the console, and Kova sent back an agreement. The lights on the entire ship turned off, replaced by low red lights. The steering apparatus for the Coeus appeared at Kova's console, ready for her influence. Before taking control over steering, Kova sent the message to the other Paladins on their consoles. 

ER: 'Ballistas report a design failure. We have to travel via wormhole'

HC: 'Prepare the ship. I got steering.'

The Paladins could only brace themselves, hoping that the Coeus could endure this battle. That's when Caleb had an idea. Sending a brief message to Kova, he went to the Coeus's network. Transferring the page to Liz, they both set to work. 

They still had the training bot. 

Activating the large mecha, Caleb and Liz took over its motor functions. Caleb controlled everything above the hips, while Liz had everything below. The transport bay doors opened, and the pair led the bot out. There was a hole in the particle barrier, but it would have to dealt with later. The pair piloted the bot until a well-aimed shot took it offline. 

By the time the mecha died, the Coeus was already gone through the wormhole.

[voyager-into-the-unknown]

The Dumb One

By PlanceGardener21 on AO3

Lance allowed Red to fly on autopilot as the Paladins soared through the void on their long journey home. He leaned back in his pilot’s chair, listening to his teammates’ comm chatter, but saying nothing. Allura was having a discussion with Pidge and Hunk about quintessence conversion efficiency and the necessity of allowing the lions to recharge. They would have to find a habitable planet to land on soon. Keith and Allura had some ideas about which one would be suitable for their needs. Pidge made some quick calculations which she sent to Black Lion, and Keith adjusted their route towards Earth, which they apparently weren’t going to reach anytime in the near future.

Lance sighed. What could he contribute to this conversation anyway? It was like they had forgotten he was even there. He thought about their recent encounter with the mysterious alien entity known to them only as Bob. The dumb one, Lance thought. That’s what he called me, and that’s who I am. Everyone seems to agree on that. He closed his eyes. He just wanted this war to be over. He missed Earth. He missed his family. He could feel the moisture welling up beneath his eyelids. He just wanted to go home.

“Lance!” Hunk practically shouted over his comm. “Are you with us, buddy? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

“Sorry. I must have been napping for awhile.”

“Are you sure you’re awake back there?” Keith asked. Red, the normally the fastest of the lions, had drifted to the rear of their formation.

“Keep up, Lonce,” Allura chided. “You don’t want to get left behind.” After all this time she still pronounced his name incorrectly. At first he thought it was cute, but now it was beginning to get on his nerves every time she said it. Lance pulled a face that he was glad the princess could not see.

That’s just great, he thought. Now, I’m the slow one, too.

“Lance?” Pidge’s voice was more gentle than usual for some reason. “Would you like to play Killbot in tandem with me? It would be a great way to pass the time.”

“How can I play when I’m over here? The game console is with you, Pidge.”

“I’ve downloaded the game’s code into one of Green’s auxiliary computers. I can send a copy of the program to one of Red’s auxiliaries and broadcast a signal link that will allow us to play together in real time. It’ll be fun.”

Lance was impressed. “That must have been a lot of work for you. Why did you go to so much trouble?”

Pidge hesitated. “Well...you did go through a lot to help me get the game in the first place. And even though it’s fun to play alone, I’ve always thought that it’s even more fun to play Killbot with you.”

Lance smiled crookedly in spite of the gloomy mood he had been in a few moments before. “Well, what are you waiting for? Send me the program!” He then grinned broadly in anticipation of another gaming session with Pidge. Somehow, She managed to bring him out of his foul mood with just a few words. He noticed that she did that a lot lately.

“Ugh, can you two put all of your gaming talk on a private channel.” Allura sounded annoyed.

“Will do!” Pidge replied cheerfully. There was a brief burst of static, and then he heard Pidge’s voice on a different channel. “Lance, you there?” He activated his viewscreen.

“Your favorite Paladin’s right here, Pidgey,” he said with a smirk while pointing finger guns at her. “I’m cuter than a yelmor, and I smell better than one too!” He really didn’t know what made him say that, but it made her giggle, so it must have been the right thing to say. It may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that Pidge blushed a little as she smiled at him.

She typed quickly, then pressed a button. “Sending now. Let me know when it’s finished downloading to your auxiliary terminal. It will take several minutes.”

“Thanks for doing all this for me, Pidge. I really missed gaming with you.”

“l missed you too,” Pidge declared absentmindedly as she studied one of her data screens. “And it was the least I could do for you after what happened on board the pirate ship.”

“What do you mean?”

“Zethrid and Ezor were gleeful about the idea of torturing me, but you wouldn’t let them take me. Even though you were restrained, you fought to defend me, to keep me safe. What you did was selfless, reckless, and very brave. For the longest time I just wanted to say...” Pidge’s voice cracked. Her eyes were shining. “Thank you for that.”

Lance’s mouth fell open in stunned silence. After a long pause, he softly murmured, “No problem.” He watched as she wiped her eyes quickly and swallowed. Lance stammered, “I...uh...I really didn’t have time to think. I just reacted. Someone I care about was in danger, and something inside of me just...snapped. I had to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hadn’t done something. Pidge, if they had taken you, if they had hurt you, I—“

She gave him a watery smile. “But they didn’t hurt me. Ezor beat you up instead.” Tears streamed down Pidge’s cheeks, and she wiped them away with the heel of one hand. “If Coran, Acxa, and the mice hadn’t arrived to rescue us, no telling what they might have done to you.”

“It’s all right. I only had a few bruises. I’m fine, really. And if I had to do it all over again, I would.” His face suddenly felt very warm.

She looked at him in astonishment, and then smiled shyly. She was definitely blushing this time, and looking at him with what could only be described as admiration. Selfless, she had called him. Brave.

“I guess you’re my hero, then.” The look she gave him was the softest he had ever seen from her. He was speechless.

It had occurred to him, and not for the first time either, that Pidge was growing up. She was taller now, her hair was longer, the subtle curves of her slight figure had become more obvious recently. There was no way she could pass for a young boy anymore. She’s too pretty to be a boy, he thought, and then suddenly felt warm all over. Where had that thought come from? Pretty. Delicate. Graceful. Brilliant. Sweet. Courageous. Determined. She was all of those things and so much more. And she saw him as a hero. He was her hero.

Hero...How many times had he hoped that he might be regarded as a hero by some attractive young woman? How much time had he spent in idle daydreaming about rescuing a fair damsel in distress who would fall in love with him? How long had he fantasized that one day a girl would look at him the way Katie Holt was looking at him at this very moment? Well, it was time to be really brave then. He looked back at her and said aloud what he had been meaning to tell her for the longest time.

“You—you’re my hero too, you know. You saved me. Remember when Bob put me in that vat of acid?”

“Don’t remind me. That arrogant little creep could have killed you, Lance. I was furious!”

“Yeah, I am not a fan of that guy either. I was so nervous that I couldn’t think straight. Every time I got an answer wrong I felt like I was letting the team down, and I could never forgive myself if we lost because of my stupidity.”

“You’re not stupid, Lance. Don’t ever call yourself that.”

“Why not? Everyone knows that I’m the dumb one. Bob kept saying it over and over, and he’s some kind of ancient being with godlike knowledge and power, so it must be true.”

“That is absolute nonsense. Bob doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And you’re not dumb! I can prove it to you.”

“Good luck with that,” he said skeptically.

“Are you familiar with Howard Gardener’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences?”

“No. Wait, multiple? Are you saying that there is more than one way to be smart?”

“That’s exactly what I am saying. Even before we became Paladins, I hacked the Garrison’s computers several times when I was searching for Matt and Dad. I saved nearly everything I could find that was classified, including data about Shiro, who was missing too, and Keith because of his connection to Shiro. I researched you and Hunk also, since the three of us were training together as a flight crew. I wanted to know everything there is to know about you two. I made a dossier on each member of our team.”

“Yeah, you told us. I mean, normal people do scary stuff like that all the time.” He rolled his eyes.

She glared at him. “Lance...”

“I’m just saying! Look, you got angry at Hunk for being nosy when he tried to get a peek at your diary. In a way, this is even worse!”

“I’m sorry! I was desperate to find my family, okay? And I wanted to know more about you and Hunk. I wanted to know if I could trust you. I entered the Garrison illegally, under a false identity, and sooner or later one of you would figure out that Pidge Gunderson was an alias. If Iverson found out that I was really Sam Holt’s daughter...”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry too. I know you were probably in a constant state of anxiety back then. I honestly thought there was something very weird going on with you all the time, even though I was too dense to figure out that you weren’t really a boy.”

She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, remembering their time together as cadets. “You kept trying to be friends with me, and I kept pushing you away. I felt terrible about that, you know. I really wanted to be friends, but I was afraid you and Hunk would figure out who I really was.”

“It’s alright, Pidge. I understand why you did it. And I hope you noticed that we didn’t give up on you.”

“I know. You and Hunk were the first real friends I’ve ever had.” She smiled again, her eyes shining.

He smiled back at her. “You and Hunk are like, my favorite people in the entire universe, okay? You’re both so brilliant I often wonder why either of you would want an idiot like me around, unless it’s for comic relief.”

“Lance! Stop that! I already told you, you are not dumb, so stop saying it.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. What was it that you were saying about multiple intelligences?”

“I have all of your files from our days at the Garrison: standardized test scores, pilot trainee stats, physical fitness data, psych profile, and MI survey results, as well as everyone else’s. We both scored pretty high in Visual/Spatial Intelligence.”

“You have to in order to be a pilot trainee.”

“And to be so great at video games. It’s also necessary to be a skilled sharpshooter,” she grinned at him. “I may be a genius in Logical/Mathematical, but your score in Bodily/Kinesthetic Intelligence is much higher than mine. You also scored really high in Linguistic, Musical, and especially Interpersonal Intellligences. That last one is my weakest area.”

“Wait a tic, are you saying that I’m smarter than you in some areas?!”

“Yes, without a doubt. The data is right here. I can send it to you...”

“No, I...” Lance looked shy all of a sudden. “It’s enough just to know that you think I’m not dumb. I mean, you’re one of the most intelligent people I have ever met, not to mention that you’re one of the people I love most in the entire universe, so your opinion means everything to me. I guess what I am trying to say is...thank you.”

Wait, did he just say love? Out loud?! Oh no, she heard that. That’s why she isn’t saying anything. Idiot. There was an awkward silence between them.

The computer console chimed softly, signaling the download was finished.

“You’re welcome, Lance,” she said carefully. “And I think you should know that even though you are dense as a neutron star about some things, you are brilliant as a supernova in many other ways.” She paused again. “I guess that’s why I love you so much, you Goofball.” She said all of this with a dazzling smile that made his heart beat faster.

Lance’s heart was racing for quite some time, and he could not stop smiling for the next varga or so. He and Pidge became absorbed in excitement of the video game, but in the back of his mind Pidge’s words reverberated through the cavern of his memory, echoing again and again without diminishing in intensity: Selfless. Brave. Hero. You’re not dumb. I love you.

I love you...I love you...I love you. His mind replayed those words over and over as they battled digital monsters. With each victory he felt more confident, more sure of himself. He whooped with unbridled joy when their teamwork took down one foe after another.

He loved her. He knew that now, and he had already wasted so much precious time flirting with girls who really didn’t matter to him. He vowed he wouldn’t do that anymore. They were fighting in an interstellar war that had been going on for thousands of years before they were even born. Who knew how much time they had left? Days, months, years, a lifetime?

A lifetime. He realized at that moment that he could spend a lifetime talking or gaming or just growing old with Pidge. He wanted that, if they survived this endless war. He wanted her.

When they finally landed on the planet that Keith and Allura were talking about earlier, he might be able to walk around with Pidge for a bit and enjoy the fresh air of a planet with a breathable atmosphere. He would try to hold her hand, of course. And, maybe, if he could find a place to be alone with her, he could tell her face to face how he really felt about her. He wondered if she would let him steal a kiss...

“Team, look alive!” Keith’s voice over the main comm channel broke Lance’s concentration. Pidge paused their game. “There’s a renegade Galra battlegroup straight ahead. Incoming!” Galra fighters swarmed around Keith, Allura, and Hunk like a hive of angry hornets.

Quiznak! Well, it was time to put that Visual/Spatial Bodily/Kinesthetic Intelligence to use. Red soared ahead with Green right behind him and Lance opened fire on the fighter drone who was tailing Black Lion. It burst in an explosion of color and light in front of him.

“Nice shooting!” Hunk exclaimed.

“Way to go, Sharpshooter!” Pidge cheered. “That was a genius move.” Was she teasing him?

Lance grinned as he bullseyed another fighter.

[voltron-brotherhood-au]

File: 0046648: Pidge Holt

Name: Katie "Pidge" Holt.

Born: April 3rd, 2003. Catania Silicy, Italy.

Herritage: Italian

Species: Human

Affiliation: The Garrison, Assassin brotherhood, the Rivolta.

Weapon: Assassin gauntlet (Hidden blade, rope launcher, voltage) and a dagger.

Pidge was very open about their past but wanted us to remember everyone that they identify as non-binary and as such, historical writings, reports and official documents that mentioned them must respect the pronouns they choose (I was a little doubtful but Nadia almost kicks my ass about it so I accepted).

So Pidge was born as a female in Italy by the name of Katie as the second child of the Holt family, their father, a renown scientist, had just signed a contract to work with The Garrison on their bioengineering projects and also to teach some classes at their school so the family moved to the United States when she was a mere baby and lived there ever since.

Pidge always had a brilliant mind, going trough different scientific branches and experimenting with everything around them before they decided to stick with computer science and especially in software engineering, their father and brother help them cultivate that interest in the world and did everything they could to make them feel like they belong to the scientific community.

They had the resolution to study in the Garrison as his brother did and become a famous scientist and contribute to the betterment of humankind, but that dream shifted and died with the disappearance of both his father and brother during the Kerberos mission that had the goal to test new software on contaminated areas to help clean the air and waters.

The grieving was expected but as brilliant minds go, Pidge decided to bury themselves on their work and try to dig out any information about where their family whereabouts could be. For every piece of information, their theory about all being bullshit orchestrated by the Garrison was becoming more likely and with their result found, they enlisted in the Garrison with the name Pidge Gunderson and the pronouns he/him.

Inside the Garrison, they didn't found much and the computers they could access and manipulated didn't have much information about the disappearance, just hints that a plan of covering up was in place. They still decided to abandon the Garrison and concentrate on digging up more information about the whole operation and the Garrison as a whole using the hacking skills they learned and the connections they made during their time in the military.

On one of these occasions Pidge tracked down a particular string of data that in the beginning was just some bank transactions and accounts that seemed suspicious but as they dive deeper and deeper they found some numbers that didn't match with the sales reports and discovered a third party that pulled money out of the Garrison accounts and moved it around for a while until it disappeared (well, it was withdrawal and used - N.R). They tapped into it expecting to find money laundry or some secret of the like but instead of finding something, someone found her.

A few seconds after she tapped into the signal and messed with the code work, a mail was sent to her personal account with a short and clear note. "We work in the dark to serve the light. We are assassins" It didn't take them long to decipher the code on the note and found a direction and hour and indicated that they were talking to a private organization that decided to help and needed theirs. They had military training so they weren't worried about an ambush but it turns out they didn't need since the person who contacted them was none other than Master Kogane.

That's right. Discovering the assassin money input was a great achievement that didn't go unnoticed and Keith decided to offer the bright young man a place in the new brotherhood. That was the beginning of the story for Master assassin Holt into the brotherhood and the Voltron initiative.

[mal--art]

funky hair.

[sylvabled]

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 : bonfires, competitiveness, hand veins, loud laughs, messy hair, sneaking out at 2am, abandoned beaches, stray dogs, candle lights, body language, creaking floorboards, ouija boards, having no regrets, karaoke nights out.

𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 : house plants, oversized sweaters, soft hands, fuzzy socks, visiting big cities, snoozing your alarm clock, the color yellow, vanilla-scented candles, aloe vera, fruit smoothies, baking cookies, the mom friend, loves the ukulele.

𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 : femme fatale movies, in love with female villains, sharp eyeliner, quick-witted, does things out of spite, do no harm but take no shit, in love with dogs, probably cries during sad movies but won’t admit it, easily excited, ripped jeans.

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 : mermaids, easily infatuated by love, smelling flowers, picnics in open fields, gets sad when thinking about the past, impressed easily, daydreaming, plucking fresh fruit, loves fashion, would die for their friends.

𝐋𝐄𝐎 : confident in what they do, kill them with kindness, high ponytails, probably wants to visit paris once, not afraid to tell the truth, in love with cute animals, the one to lift others up, good at teamwork, the warm feeling of summer, dragons.

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 :  pastel markers, the smell of lavender, has a welcoming vibe around them, actually organized, scrunchies, neat notes, love going to museums, probably into photography, neutral colors, handwritten letters, stardust.

𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 : soft blankets, cuddling the ones you love, always standing up for your friends, hopeless romantic, can be very distant, can be a little dramatic, pretty hair, dresses nicely, tries to be popular on social media, optimistic, humorous.

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 : cottages in the woods, in love with greek mythology, vintage t-shirts, really emotional but doesn’t want anyone to know, determined, moonlight, pretty handwriting, into the retro aesthetic, rainy days, doesn’t judge people, cats.

𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 : always ready for an adventure, street smart, wants to travel the world someday, doesn’t easily trust people, alcohol, paintbrushes, can’t sit still, untied shoelaces, tangled up earphones, blasting music at midnight, eye-gazing.

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 : cold aura, coffee is what keeps them going, probably hasn’t slept in two days, actually a big softie, high-waisted jeans, cute pet videos, small apartments, has too many notebooks, often goes to the library, writing essays.

𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 : loves to paint & do any kind of art, wants to live at the seaside, knows a lot of random facts, shares food, messy notes, bullshits an entire essay, graffiti, has their own distinct style, wants to live their life like they want to.

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 : old teddy bears, unsent love letters, mom-jeans, loves to sing, feels at home by the ocean, writes poetry, hard-workers, always up for deep conversations, probably did the stupid thing, open curtains, a soft breeze.

tagged by:  stole it from @mcsplodey tagging: steal it and just @ me!

[b-kitsune]

Many ways to say I love you: Day One

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Day One: Fickle Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Canon (Season 1) Status: Part 1/7

Pidge was used to finding the right answer to all her problems with the use of logic to her benefit.

When she was a little girl, having friends was something that always was difficult from her, she wasn't good at reading the environment and her sharp tongue inherited from her mother didn't help any moment. So, they always turned their backs on her when Pidge tried to be a little more sociable. One day, bored with jokes and bad treatment, she decided that it wasn't for her. Having her family and Bae Bae to keep her company was enough, building walls towards the rest of the world.

When she began to grow up, she didn't feel comfortable with the new curvature of her body, her dresses accentuated her waist and Pidge felt strangely uncomfortable with the use of a bra, so she decided to use jackets twice her size and cover her growth. Nobody noticed the difference; their development was slow anyway.

This was how all her problems were easily dismissed or, if it was possible, left aside. And if this weren't the case, Pidge took the reins of the situation without considering the consequences. It was like this when she infiltrated a government property, passed herself off as a boy and ended up in a lion of 10,000 years old alien technology.

Even then after all the catastrophes in recent months, she felt calm, everything was solvable with a few minutes of thorough analysis. And entering Voltron had helped her to generate flexibility that on earth she hadn't achieved through the traditional ways, Pidge was stubborn after all. And being right almost always worked in her favor.

But at that moment, while working in the green lion's hangar isolated from others coding the recent files of the Galra fleet, even for months of studying the situation carefully within all the possible variables, she couldn't find the correct answer to the fickle attitude of Keith Kogane.

When she met him in the rescue of Shiro in a turn of coincident events, Pidge immediately recognized the bad character made a person.  Place she thought that she had naively earned it.

If Pidge had trouble relating to the rest and isolating himself from the world at the slightest problem, Keith far surpassed her. Many times, she saw herself recriminating him for attitudes that even to her seemed extremist, seeing the irony of who came to the comment. However, they understood each other quite well without talking too much, like Lance and Hunk, Pidge could understand where his bad temper often came from and did her best to help him overcome it.

There were situations that even Shiro had sent directly to talk to Keith as soon as there was friction in the team. And she was proud to have a unique space with her arm mate in which none of the other members, including Shiro, was welcome.

Or so she thought.

''Pidge, there you are!'' Allura entered the hangar with an enviable spirit, Pidge didn't even look up. ''Coran and I have scheduled training for all the paladins today, I need you to be in the training room in half varga.''

''I'm busy here.''

''But it's-''

''This is also important.'' Pidge interrupted her before she insisted.

''All right. I will not try to convince you.'' Allura returned to the exit, leaving Pidge somewhat confused by her complacent attitude. ''In ten ticks, I will deactivate the electricity of the hangar, I hope you aren't afraid of the darkness.''

''Are you serious?'' But when she looked up, only saw the determination on her face, the panic growing inside her when saw her count in reverse. ''Ok, ok, I'm going to get dressed, don't lock me in here!''

''I'm glad you understand!'' Allura patted her back once she ran to the door, closing the hangar until the end of the training. Pidge groaned disappointedly. ''Part of the paladins' job is to keep a constant training of physical activity and strengthening of the link even if they aren't in battle, to keep the body in shape. I expected no less from the green lion's paladin.''

''You threatened me.''

She objected dryly, but Allura ignored her when they both walked inside the castle.

She least wanted was to participate in the castle exercises, much less deal with Keith in the process.

During the last weeks, his attitude had changed strangely towards her, leaving her completely conflicted. It wasn't as if Keith had the same attitude every day, but Pidge had felt strangely uncomfortable with him.

He could converse peacefully with her during breakfast, annoy Lance together, help her with updates on the red lion, and discuss her interests as if they had been close friends for a long time in her room, in a unique and unparalleled closeness in which even she felt his breathing close enough to hit her in the face, often feeling that her heart would come out at any moment. The next day, she could be lucky if he greeted her or looked at her in the corridors. Many times in that order, other times he could spend days when he didn't even address a single word.

Sometimes Keith seemed really worried about her health during the training sessions, coming to give her deep hugs when nobody else looked them, she felt protected and taken care of by those moments where only the two existed. And other days, he could leave her alone to the point of being shot because of him.

There were moments when he stopped her in the corridors to try to say something important, but he only kept his mouth open and returned as quickly as he arrived. Then he commented that he only needed help on anything and had already solved it without problems.

Lately, she didn't understand what he wanted, sometimes he seemed to adore her, and at the second was a complete stranger. When she faced it, it didn't work at all, since he left her alone, alluding that she was only imagining things.

So Pidge decided that he simply had to ignore it.

''Pidge, you finally came!'' She approached Shiro quickly when he greeted her, being the last to appear. ''Now that we're all ready, can start this training.''

'' What will it be this time?'' Lance asked interested while stretching. ''A 2vs3? Race of lions? Battle of gunfire? Or will we have to sit in a circle and tell our secrets?''

''Actually, it's a shooting battle.'' Everyone looked at Shiro surprised at the simplicity of the training.

''How boring''. Pidge commented loudly. Taking a light laugh at the black paladin.

''Oh believe me Pidge, you'll enjoy it.''

 ...

 The exercise was simple with rules similar to a traditional terrestrial MOBA, defeating the central points by going to any of the five roads, in which at the end of this, they would take control of the central command. They could recharge, change and stop whenever they wanted as long as they didn't shoot at themselves. Only, this time, it was the four versus Shiro, in a simulation with night vision, without special binoculars, and they were at a clear disadvantage.

The worst thing was that they had been classified by armament pairs, so Pidge was obliged to deal with Keith throughout the training.

As soon as they found one of the points, they shot it quickly to deactivate it.

''I haven't listened to Hunk for several minutes.'' Keith approached her side to avoid being attacked by the attack bots. But Pidge just grunted unguarded. ''Do you think they will be fine on the other side?''

''I don't know.'' He could see the bewilderment on her face when it was illuminated by a slight explosion.

''Are you angry?''

''No!''

Before being shot, Pidge pushed him behind some boxes they used as shields during the simulation. The noise suggested a group of more than five bots around them. For those who covered their backs to shoot them before being injured and eliminated.

They advanced for many minutes as they evaded and eliminated, but Pidge stumbled over an object and Keith quickly took it to place it on his shoulder, beginning to run to lose sight of them.

With the last reload of his weapon, he was able to annihilate the last one before being caught, feeling the overload on his body. Pidge was complaining about the pain in her foot, surely she had folded it as soon as she fell. Both couldn't follow the path, nor did they have ammunition to defend themselves, it was a matter of time for them to lose against the system.

Keith approached her to lightly touch her damaged foot.

''Are you okay?''

''Yeah ... '' It was barely a whisper. Keith sat beside her when he listened to the gunfire around him. And without avoiding it, he asked.

''Hey ... Is there something I did that bothered you?''

''What?'' Pidge was confused with his question, so Keith preferred to explain himself correctly.

''We were pretty good in the last time, and the next day, you started avoiding me like I had the plague. I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me something you don't want, but, I was happy, you know? You were the first friend I've had after Shiro, and I would feel bad knowing that maybe I did something that bothered you.''

''I thought I had done something to annoy you, Keith.'' Keith turned his head off, listening to her. ''Sometimes you talked to me, and the next second you started to ignore me, then you were days without talking to me and from one moment to another you acted as if nothing happens-

Pidge didn't calculate the exact moment when it happened, but from one second to the next she was strongly pressed to the wall, lips pressing on her and the light shots of the simulation around them as the only memory of reality.

It wasn't exactly sweet or soft, he savored her with fury, with a need incarnate of his own primitive desire. Pidge didn't know how to react, she wanted to take him away for mere instinct to be attacked so wildly, but it was that same feeling that was taking him to take the lapels of his uniform and push him closer to her, causing her hips hit each other.

It was the first time she was kissed by someone. It was the first time she felt a fire rising beneath her stomach as soon as his lips parted to give way to her tongue, tasting her painfully. Keith was relentless, demanding, leaving her with no air and caressing every contour inside her mouth. His hands trembled as approached her waist, letting Pidge know that all the strength he used before was the product of recent nerves.

Was being his first time too?

She could push him away, accept him and answer the kiss, do all that or just get carried away for the moment. But at any moment the illumination was turned on in lights of medium intensity giving when the simulation finished. Pidge and Keith walked away fearfully as if they had been aware of what had happened at that moment, and without another word, got up to go to the exit.

Pidge leaned on Keith's shoulder because of her ankle. There, Shiro, Coran, and Allura waited for them with a big smile.

''Congratulations, you two were closest to the victory, Lance and Hunk are still looking for the exit.'' Allura replied with happiness, both nodded defeated.

''Are you hurt Pidge?'' Shiro asked worriedly.

''I just bent my ankle during training.''

''At least it's not something serious, you have to be careful next time. Keith, can you take her to the infirmary?''

''Oh, yeah.''

They both went to the exit as soon as they heard the screams of Lance rumble on the walls about the difficulty of the exercise. When they walked a couple of meters away from the training room. Pidge approached Keith's face gently, to brush his lips in a delicate movement. Keith looked embarrassed.

''I'm sorry I lost control there, if you don't want to continue, I'll understand ...''

''Kiss me, Keith.'' She cut him, and Keith smiled relieved at his response, kissing her, over and over again being careful not to move on to take his injured foot.

''I wanted to do this for so long.''

''Is that why you were being so strange?'' Pidge could see the shame build up Keith's face with force, nodding nervously. ''Oh my god, you're so emo.''

''And you're very shorty, c' mere.''

Pidge laughed sarcastically when Keith took her into his arms to address the infirmary. Both could have an aggressive passive relationship on the surface, but deep down, they expected that new discovery in the simulation room to change things a bit between them.

[hailqiqi]

Can You Find a Fallen Star?

Healing broken bonds starts with confronting hard truths.

Ctd. from The Stars Aren’t the Same for You and I

I think I need to shoutout to @mistyhollowpro for helping me out with this, but honestly it’s been sitting at 95% for so long that I’ve totally forgotten if I owe anybody else shoutouts.

Words: 3,905

AO3 link in notes.

“Hi.”

The greeting was given with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk that immediately wiped half the tension from his shoulders.

“Hey, Veronica. Any chance you know what your little brother did to my little sister?”

“I love it how you cut to the chase,” she answered with a laugh, shaking her head ruefully as she opened the door to invite him in. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? I told him to quit moping and be useful, so he’s cleaning out the refrigerator in the kitchenette.”

Matt muttered a quiet thanks as he stepped inside. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Nope,” Veronica replied, shutting the door and gesturing for him to follow her, “and I suspect I don’t want to ask.”  She stopped part-way across the living room and pointed to an open doorway. “He’s in there. Don’t kill him, okay? We only just got him back.”

“I promise I won’t,” Matt answered solemnly, crossing his heart. “Scout’s hono— Hey!”

Veronica grinned as she released his ponytail. “I’m still not used to this.” She laughed. “Anyway. Enjoy, Holt.”

Grumbling, he flapped his arms at her and headed towards the small kitchen. This was not how he had wanted to spend his Sunday, but with Pidge acting like the world had ended what else was he supposed to do?

The kitchens in Garrison family quarters were small — more of a kitchenette, really, as Veronica had called it — with a counter for cooking/prep, an island for eating, and a wall of windows to let the light in (and get rid of smoke). The one in this particular family suite was no different, its only unique feature being the cluttered surfaces where every item in the fridge had seemingly been moved out and shoved aside.

Lance was nowhere to be seen, but from the clattering and muttered curses Matt supposed he was on the floor behind the island. He must not have heard him come in.

Excellent.

Moving quietly, he snuck up to the island and peered over. Yup, there he was — wearing shorts and a wife-beater, on his hands and knees with a bottle of spray in one hand and his head inside the empty refrigerator. The thoroughness with which he approached the task made Matt pause.

Whatever happened must have been bad; back before Kerberos, Veronica had always complained about how lazy her baby brother was when it came to chores. Then again, being a paladin had probably helped him grow up — Pidge was barely recognisable, sometimes.

And on that note…

“Lance!” he barked.

“Argh!”

A loud bang echoed as Lance hit his head on the shelf, dropping the spray when he tried to whip around to face the intruder. Matt bit back a laugh and quickly schooled his expression into one of stern bemusement, raising an eyebrow as he waited for him to turn and face him properly.

Lance’s expression fell the moment he set eyes on him. “Ah, shit. How did you even…?”

“One thing you might not know about me,” Matt said, pushing himself onto the barstool and aiming for ‘casually threatening, in the Kingsman style’. (Pidge had said he’d got ‘all buff and stuff’, so hopefully it was paying off now.) “I used to date your sister.”

“I — Wait — You what?!”

“I did. We parted on good terms, back when I left for the Kerberos mission?” He ignored Lance’s outburst in favour of picking up a bottle of juice from the counter and studying the label. “Pass me a glass, Lance.”

Lance stared at him incredulously, then moved to the cupboard, slapping his cleaning cloth down on the counter as he pulled out a glass. “Why are you telling me this?”

“No real reason.” Matt shrugged, accepting the offered glass with a cordial smile. “We still get on very well. I just think it’s nice to see how well she’s done for herself.” Lance was watching carefully, shoulders squared, and Matt ignored him in favour of pouring his juice. “We have a lot more in common nowadays, too, so we talk a lot. We’re both older siblings to a Paladin of Voltron, for one.”

He sipped his juice, eyeing Lance over the rim of the glass and inwardly laughing at how wide Lance’s eyes had grown as the implication sunk in. Less than a heartbeat later, though, his shoulders slumped and his gaze swung to the window, making him look more defeated than Matt had ever seen him look.

What the fuck had he done?

The juice was sweet, and still cold despite being left out on the counter. Matt took his time savouring it as he watched his quarry, hiding his frown behind the glass.

He had planned to wait him out, but Lance wasn’t offering any answers of his own volition — he stood on the other side of the island, eyes looking everywhere but Matt. He’d always seemed the type to fill the silence with random chatter, but right now he was more taciturn than Shiro.

With a mental sigh, Matt finished up his juice and placed the glass back on the counter. “So.”

“So?” Lance met his eyes briefly.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea why my sister is refusing to get out of bed?”

“I— Pidge is what?”

“She’s been lying face down on her bed for the past few hours, and whenever I try to talk to her all I get is ‘Allura hates me’, ‘none of my friends will ever talk to me again’ and ‘my life is over’,” Matt elaborated, raising an eyebrow as Lance shifted nervously. Honestly, the kid couldn’t look guiltier if he tried. “When I asked her who I needed to punch, she said you.”

“Oh.”

“And as fun as it is watching her channel a pre-teen drama queen, I’m sure you can understand why it’s a little concerning.“

"Fuck.” Lance ran a hand through his hair, then held his arms away from his body. "Go on then.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?”

"Yeah,” Lance said, swallowing. “I definitely deserve it, so…’’

They looked at each other for a moment, then Matt snorted. “I’m not gonna hit you, Lance.”

Lance looked away, then sagged against the counter behind him, his hand back in his hair. "I kissed her, Matt.”

Oh. Not exactly what Matt had been expecting, but close enough that he suspected he already knew the rest. To be fair, he found it somewhat impressive that six teenagers-to-young-adults had managed to survive drama-free on a spaceship for nearly three years. Something like this was more than a little overdue.

Especially with these particular players. Though it wasn’t like knowing Matt had always thought it was inevitable would help Pidge any now.

"Okay,” he said with a tired sigh. "So?”

"What do you mean, ‘so’?! I kissed your sister!”

I’ve done worse with yours, he wanted to say, but instead he bit his tongue and shrugged. "Okay, I get that. But what’s the problem?”

“I’m dating Allura and I kissed Pidge!”

“I doubt Pidge is upset about the ‘kiss’ part of that sentence.”

Lance stared at him incredulously, then let out a bitter laugh and looked away.  Matt reached for the juice bottle again and took his time pouring a glass, watching Lance carefully as he did. The younger man was yet to meet his eyes.

Matt considered his words carefully, then took a sip before saying, “If we’re being honest, I was really surprised when I found out you were dating the Princess. I always thought you and Katie had something going on and were just keeping it secret.”

Lance flinched but said nothing. Matt filed the data point away for future reference and asked, “How did it even happen?”

A slow exhale, then Lance finally turned to face him again. “Allura, or Pidge?”

Matt snorted. “Pidge.”

“We were dancing.”

“You were dancing,” he echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Weren’t you in a dance team before flight school? Did you end up kissing all your partners then, too?”

Lance groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

 —————

 Keeping the frustration out of his voice felt like an impossible task.

"You've missed half of your targets today."

Lance shifted uneasily, not meeting his gaze. Keith narrowed his eyes, then turned to Allura.

"You're moving like a robot." Her movements were normally fluid and graceful, a sight to behold, but today they’d been lacking...everything.

Allura snapped her eyes to his, ferocity in her gaze. "I'm tired after your 'dancing' outing last night."

"We're all tired," he retorted, pushing back an irrational wave of irritation when her jaw tightened. "We were all out late, and we all got at least a little tipsy. That doesn't mean you should be sloppy on the field."

"It's just the training deck, Keith, lighten up."

Keith turned his ire on Hunk at the provocation. "You were just as bad! I've told you before: you've gotta control your strength if you want your hits to count!"

Hunk sighed and flopped to the ground. "Look, I'm just so worried about Pidge because she hasn't come, and she seemed really upset last night and—"

Both Lance and Allura stiffened. Keith blinked, tuning out Hunk's rambling and taking a moment to observe them instead. There was a distance between them that hadn't been there yesterday, and — now that he thought about it — they'd barely spoken or even looked at each other except when necessary.

And now Pidge wasn't answering Hunk's calls and had skipped training.

Cold dread slipped down his spine and settled into his stomach. "Hunk?" he said, cutting him off, his tone carefully calm. "Why was Pidge upset last night?"

"Why—?" Hunk paused at the interruption, but Keith's attention was focused more on the way Allura was gritting her teeth, her eyes firmly on the floor, and Lance had almost shrunk into himself, everything about his posture screaming guilty. "I have no idea, man, just her and Allura asked me to take them home early and she was tearing up the whole way. I tried to ask but she..."

Hunk carried on, talking about their drive back and how Pidge had disappeared the moment they pulled up, but all Keith could think about was the way Lance had looked at her in that dress and how tight her fingers had been on his arm as she all but fled from his gaze.

"Lance."

His voice shook with barely contained fury, and it took all he had to remind himself that Lance would never hurt her. Lance met his gaze warily, and Keith's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he asked, "Lance, what did you do?"

Silence fell over the room. Lance visibly wavered. "I didn't—"

"Allura won't look at you. You won't look at Allura. Pidge has missed training and isn't answering any of our communications." Lance winced with each statement, as though they were a physical blow instead of words. "Lance, what did you do?!"

"Nothing unwelcome," Allura answered for him, a bitter edge in her voice. "Pidge is over-reacting."

Keith frowned. If Allura was telling the truth, then—

"Leave her alone," Lance said, his eyes narrowed. "Pidge didn't do anything. If you're gonna be mad at someone, be mad at me."

Allura raised an eyebrow. "I am angry with you," she said, coolly, "but that doesn't negate the fact that Pidge's reaction is completely inappropriate and out of proportion. The integrity of Voltron is at risk."

"Uh, guys—"

"Okay, fine, but because of my actions, not hers!" Lance ignored Hunk completely, his shoulders squaring up for an argument, and Keith suddenly realised that he had no desire to be a part of whatever was going on.

"Enough!"

The tension from the air vanished immediately as they both jumped and turned to face him.

"I don't care what happened. Allura's right, Voltron's at risk. If Haggar attacked today, we'd all die." He glared at all three of them, daring them to challenge him. When no-one did, he continued, "Fix it. One of you needs to talk to her."

"Lance needs to talk to her," Allura said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want no part of it."

Lance's eyes flashed. "Don't you think I need to talk to you, first?"

"I will talk to you later. After you talk to Pidge."

It was only the fear of looking too much like Shiro that stopped Keith from pinching his nose as his blue and red paladins scowled at each other, locked in a Mexican stand-off over Hunk's head.

At least Hunk looked as lost as Keith felt.

When neither made to move he gave in to the urge, closing his eyes in exasperation as he massaged his sinuses before speaking. "Fine. Lance: go and talk to Pidge. Today." He glared at Lance, his tone brooking no argument, and Lance shrunk back before giving him a hesitant nod. Satisfied, he turned to the others. "Hunk, Allura, get some rest. Allura, make sure you sort out your issues with Lance by the end of the night. I want everybody ready to work as a team again in the morning."

Allura gave a curt nod, her cheeks pinched, before turning away and leaving without a word. Hunk sighed in visible relief and held his hand out for Lance to pull him up — "I don't know what you did, man, but even I kinda wanna punch you right now" — and Keith swallowed back a groan as he moved to pick up their training equipment.

Hopefully his mom had something to eat ready when he got back to their quarters. Maybe Shiro would even be there and he could try to convince him to swap commands.

A guy could dream.

 —————

 He’d stood in front of the mirror for an hour that afternoon, and he still had no idea what he wanted to say to her.

It was throwing him for a loop, because Pidge should have been easy. They’d been a team back on Earth and grown together as part of a better team up in space. Together they’d fought monsters, blown things up, laughed, cried… He’d held her when she broke down over her first kill; she’d sat up with him modifying the training deck so that he could hone his sniping skills. Somehow, being with Pidge made him feel like all the answers were in reach.

So why was this so difficult?

Allura had been the easy one. Allura, who he’d pined after for years, who made him want to change everything he was so that he could be better just so that she would look at him. She’d held his hand, kissed his lips, told him she was happy he was with her…but after seeing the hurt on her face last night, it was easy for Lance to say that she deserved more than him. He would give her a chance to dump him for his transgressions – as Rachel had put it – and if she didn’t, he was fully prepared to end things. He knew what he wanted to say to her, how he wanted things to go with her.

But Pidge? Pidge, he had no idea.

His phone flashed, and for a moment he didn’t want to check it. In the end, though, hiding in his bedroom wasn’t exactly becoming for a Paladin of Voltron so he grabbed his keycard and headed out.

Hopefully he’d figure it out on the way.

-----

 He did not figure it out on the way.

Pidge had let him in — reluctantly — when he told her Keith had ordered him there, and now they were sitting side by side against her headboard with as much space between them as they could manage on her narrow Garrison-standard bed and he still had no idea what he wanted to say to her.

It probably would have been easier if they weren't in her room, now he thought about it. It had been so long since he'd been in any kind of space that belonged to her that her scent was overwhelming. Coherent thoughts were few and far between when every inhale took him straight back to the night before and sent shocks of electricity through his very soul. Hot breath on his ear, laughter tickling the skin of throat… The glimmer in her eyes and the heat of her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she'd kissed him back with a fiery passion he’d thought only existed in movies.

Kissing Pidge had felt like drowning, and he’d gladly succumbed to it. But now...

“I doubt Pidge is upset about the ‘kiss’ part of that sentence.”

Matt's words ran through his head for the hundredth time that day, and for the first time Lance let himself consider that there might be some truth to them. Though, if anything, that just made everything more confusing.

"So?" Pidge's harsh voice cut into his reverie and he glanced at her, startled. Her messy hair hid her face as she hunched over in the corner, leaning on both walls, one hand fiddling with a loose thread on her pyjama pants. When he didn't answer, she finally raised her head to look at him. "You came here to talk, right? Talk."

"I..." The words died on his lips and he swallowed, hyper-aware of the scant distance between them and how little effort it would be to lean down and taste her again. Shoving the thought aside, he closed his eyes and exhaled. "I don't know what to say."

Pidge scoffed. "Really? Not even a 'sorry'?"

Lance blinked. "Sorry for what?"

"Are you kidding me?" She whipped around to face him, her voice rising in both pitch and volume, and absurdly all he could think was 'Ah. There she is.' "How about 'sorry for kissing you'?!"

The fire in her eyes and the bare foot brushing his calf were distracting, but the ‘angry girl’ alarm in his brain was dinging and this, at least, Lance was familiar enough with that his mouth began to form words on auto-pilot. This was the part where he was meant to grovel, where he was supposed to say he was drunk and it was a mistake and he'd never do it again and then they could go back to being friends. Lance could start pretending her kiss hadn’t left a permanent brand on his being, and Pidge could go back to pretending to be busy whenever he called her.

He paused, a familiar bitterness curling in his gut.

"So?" she prompted. "Are you going to say sorry?"

Should he? His mind was buzzing with a million different replies, a confused jumble of scenarios all playing out at the same time as he tried to figure out which one would bridge the gap between them. That was all he was sure he wanted, really — for Pidge to stop avoiding him, for them to go back to that easy partnership they’d built so that he could stop feeling so lost.

Pidge tilted her head back against the wall, raising one eyebrow as she waited for him to speak and he shifted, moving to sit cross-legged and face her properly, ignoring the way it made him vulnerable to being shoved off.

A little vulnerability was probably in order here, anyway. Maybe it was what they needed — vulnerability...and honesty.

Pidge was looking at him expectantly.

Lance took a deep breath.

“No.”

"No?"

"No," he repeated, squaring his shoulders before plunging on ahead, deciding to just say whatever felt right and damn the consequences. Honesty, if the coarsest type. "I won't say sorry, Pidge, because I'm not. It wasn’t the first time I wanted to kiss you.”

Pidge inhaled sharply, and Lance felt his own eyes widen at the admission. It was true though, wasn’t it? He’d wanted to kiss her before, he’d felt that urge. Over and over again.

There had been a couple of times when he was cradling her in his arms as they slow danced in the Castle, then a million times when she looked up at him with a grin as they sat together playing games at quiznak-knows-o’clock. Once when they were baking cookies with Hunk and she’d gotten batter on her nose — that image and the pounding of his heart was still crystal clear in his memory. More than once when they’d come in from a stressful mission and she’d squeezed his hand to steady him at the debriefing. And then that time when she’d helped him tackle Coran on a pirate ship and he’d been so relieved that she was okay and still there.

He’d always put it down to hormones, but now...now he wasn’t so sure.

The silence fell heavily between them, tension thick in the air; in lieu of finding something else to say, he simply looked. Pidge was staring at him, expressive eyes blown wide, soft lips slightly parted with a pretty pink blush blooming across her cheeks; her soft hair (he still remembered that detail, even if he hadn’t mussed it in months) was a tousled mess, her pyjama top had slipped down to expose one smooth shoulder, and suddenly Lance couldn’t drag his eyes away.

She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He reached out, one hand gently cupping her face, and murmured, “I want to kiss you right now.”

“I—” Pidge leaned into the touch before screwing her eyes shut and pushing his hand away. “Lance, you have a girlfriend.”

“I know.” He rested his hand back on his knee with a shrug. “I won’t after tonight, though.”

Pidge scoffed. “Don’t expect me to take the position.”

“Would you want it?”

She snapped her gaze to his, a pain he couldn’t understand hiding behind her eyes, before looking away. “Whatever, Lance. Look, you’re my friend so—”

Her words made him frown. “Pidge, are we even friends?”

The question came out softer than he’d intended, but it seemed to startle her all the same. “What? I—Of course we’re friends! Why would you—”

“It’s just—” he cut her off— “you never have any time for me anymore.”

“I’m busy!”

“You were busy before, too, but we still hung out!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you ever thought that maybe I’m more busy now?”

“That’s bullshit Pidge, and you know it,” he snapped, gesticulating between them as his hurt gave way to a steadily-rising anger.  “Look, let’s at least agree to be honest with each other, okay? It’s not like we’ve got a friendship to save here because our friendship was in the toilet anyway.”

“It was not!”

“Yeah, it was. When was the last time we hung out together? We used to hang out all the time on the castle! We even did movie nights over the comms on the way here but now every time I ask you it’s ‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ and that’s if I even get a reply from you!”

She glared at him, her jaw set. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I just don’t wanna hang out with you?”

“But why?!” Lance asked, not even trying to hide the pain in his voice. “What did I do?! We hung out in the hospital but then you got out and you were helping with the tech stuff and I started dating Allura but I still—”

Pidge shifted her gaze to the side, and suddenly everything clicked into place.

[maandags]

Thank you for answering. Ok, first part (this is set before the disbanding of the group): What will it be like to be to be one of Lotor’s generals and the youngest (around Pidge’s age). Being a half-galra saved from imprisonment, they’re the hacker of the group to return the favor. Morals are in the grey area, doing what’s best for the group. Kinda have a rivalry with Pidge for her hacking skills along with having a crush on her.

Part 2: During the betrayal of Lotor, Reader reluctantly leave the group due to not wanting to be involved and goes into hiding. Later reunite with Lotor as a hacker for the coalition and meet Pidge personally without having to fight each other. Slow burn on regaining and gaining trust. Perhaps after protecting Pidge from a mission gone dicey, they slowly grew closer?

~~~

Hey! I’m sorry it took a while for me to get to your request, I haven’t been very active lately ack :/ i’m working on it, I promise :) Here you go! (this was really specific, and i realise that it’s not exactly what you asked for–but i still hope you like it :) )

~Water

—-

“Y/N, report to the bridge. Lotor wants to see us.” Acxa’s voice startled you back to reality and you jumped, blinking a few times to shake the grogginess from your mind. Sitting with your laptop on your lap, the screen only inches from your face, and dicking around with the ship’s system (and improving it–you didn’t want any unwanted visitors) was one of your favourite pastimes, but duty called, and you had a debt to pay off.

You uncurled from your position on the sofa and darted out of your room, snapping your laptop shut and pulling up your hood, slipping on your armour plates as you briskly walked over to the bridge.

Ezor, Acxa, Zethrid and Narti were already there when you took your place, and Lotor gave you a small nod and a cold smile. “Thank you for joining us, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms, waiting for orders. Lotor usually left you alone to basically do what you want, only calling upon your presence for missions or when you’re needed elsewhere–though you knew he didn’t like sending you on a mission he had no control over. You didn’t mind very much. You did what you were told.

“Today, we’re receiving some special guests,” Lotor began, threading his fingers together and leaning back in his seat, a glint in his eye you haven’t seen much before.

Beside you, Zethrid groaned. “Not those Voltron folks, right?”

Lotor shot her a glare over his shoulder as he got up from his chair and paced in front of his generals. “Good guess, Zethrid. Princess Allura and I have… things to work on, and I’m sure the Paladins would enjoy having a look around the ship. After all, we’re allies now.”

You perked up, standing up a bit straighter. The Paladins of Voltron were coming here. They were coming here.

“Uh, Lotor?” Ezor piped up, “do you really think that’s a good idea? I mean, we haven’t exactly been the kindest to the Paladins. There’s no way we’ll get them to trust us.” When Lotor didn’t respond, she clarified, “We tried to kill them? Multiple times?”

“Well, then this is our chance to earn their trust, isn’t it?” Lotor said. “This is the perfect opportunity to show them that we have their best interests at heart.”

Up till now, you had wisely kept your mouth shut. You didn’t really know what to say. Keeping your eyes down and your shoulders bunched up, you listened intently to the conversation happening around you. Melting into the shadows–making people forget you were even there–had always been something you were good at.

When Lotor dismissed his generals, and you turned around to swiftly disappear into your room again, Lotor raised his voice slightly and said, “Y/N. A word, please?”

Ezor coughed under her breath, trying and failing to mask her giggle. “Good luck,” she murmured as she passed you, giving your side a squeeze. You merely shook your head at her. Drama queen.

Walking up to stand beside Lotor as he stared out of the window, you clasped your hands behind your back and waited, curiosity slowly building in your mind. After a few minutes of silence, he cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I have a request.” He took a step back, facing you. “I would like you to keep aside when the Paladins are here, maybe… keep tabs on them. Their activities. Their conversations.”

“I thought we were supposed to earn their trust, or whatever? You want me to spy on them?” you said, an eyebrow raised. “If I get caught, we’re screwed.”

“Then make damn sure you don’t get caught,” Lotor said with a matter-of-fact tone, inclining his head towards you. “Maybe don’t show yourself at all. They might ask questions if they see you once, and then not anymore for the rest of the day… but they won’t miss you if they never even know you’re here.”

The comment stung more than it should have. It was what you’re good at, what Lotor had plucked you out of prison for: you were good with computers, good at getting the information you wanted and good at disappearing. The perfect spy. But Lotor was the reason you were free again, and you owed him. Besides, a little spying wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before.

“Sure,” you muttered. “No problem.”

Holed up in your room, you curled up in a blanket and start up your laptop, connecting it to the numerous screens littering one of the walls. You had exactly fifty-six cameras to keep an eye on, and you crack your shoulders as you tear open a bag of snacks. You were going to be here a while.

The paladins had arrived. The Princess, Allura, had soon after her arrival disappeared with Lotor doing Lions-know-what. You were tempted to sneak into a camera and watch for a while what they were up to–but refrained from doing so, as Lotor would probably murder you if he found out.

You casually switched between cameras with rhythmic taps of your middle finger, munching on your snacks. A sigh made its way past your lips. Of course Ezor and Acxa got to have all the fun, you thought bitterly as you zoomed in on their faces and watched them shoot at a mannequin wearing a dress made out of scrap metal for a while, before switching back to another camera. So far, nothing suspicious.

After about thirty minutes, you finally got something worth watching. You perked up, narrowing your eyes. Pressing a button, you moved the scene to the middle, bigger screen. The blue, yellow and green Paladins were sitting on the floor of a room, a deactivated sentry connected to a laptop by what looked like at least twenty wires. The Green Paladin sat in front of the laptop, fingers tapping away at the keyboard with a speed that impressed even you.

The green one. The hacker. Your rival, as Ezor had sweetly put it with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. You were surprised that you still remembered her name, even though you’d only heard it a couple of times–Pidge. You zoomed in on her face, studying the concentrated frown on her face, the hunch of her shoulders and the intense glint in her eyes. You were so lost in your observation that, at first, you didn’t even realise what she was doing.

But when you did, you laughed and sat back, feeling, despite herself, impressed. Reprogramming a sentry–especially when you hadn’t done it before–wasn’t easy. You moved the frame to the tech and the wiring, sweeping a critical eye over everything. The laptop, along with some of the pieces of technology you hadn’t seen before, seemed to be handmade. You didn’t know of a place selling that kind of stuff. Your admiration for Pidge grew by the second. But she was in your territory, and without knowing it she’d just given you free access to her computer.

Getting past the security Pidge had set up in her laptop unseen was the hardest part, and it took a solid twenty minutes of struggling for you to finally figure it out. You couldn’t help the burst of pride swelling in your chest when you heard the telltale ping that announced success. As you scrolled through the files stored in her memory, leaving alone the ones that looked too confidential but poking your nose in the ones that looked relatively harmless, you counted in your mind the minutes until she would figure out you were there.

It turned out to take Pidge nine minutes before she narrowed her eyes at her screen and tapped a few keys. Then her expression morphed into one of bewilderment and she barked a surprised laugh. “How the hell–”

You activated the webcam, filling the screen in front of you with Pidge’s baffled face and resting your chin in your hand. Pidge opened her mouth. “How did you–” But you cut her off with a wink and a mock salute, grinning as you deactivated the webcam and left Pidge’s computer, leaving her utterly speechless and typing frantically on her keyboard, trying to lock you in, but it was too late, and you were already safely out of her systems and popping another snack in your mouth.

The rest of the day, you pretended not to notice how you spent more time on Pidge’s screen than anyone else’s.

–

That had been months ago. It still stung to think about the way Lotor betrayed you and the rest of his generals, the team he was supposed to trust above everyone else. The team that would risk their lives for him. After what his father had put him through, you had never thought that Lotor would pull something like this.

You had spent a few months on your own, getting your supplies from the Galra ships you encountered before you managed to get your hands on a small pod of your own. Eventually, you’d mustered up the courage to join a group of rebels. They had been suspicious of you at first, and you hadn’t expected anything else–you were part Galra, and even though you didn’t look Galra you were well-known as one of Lotor’s former generals, but they had accepted you as one of their own over time. Your hacking skills definitely came in handy, as did your knowledge of Galra ships and technology. Quite a few missions would have taken months longer if you hadn’t been there.

You pulled the shawl over your face and tapped the ceiling plate you were laying against, shoving it aside and letting yourself drop into the room below, tucking into a roll and coming up standing before you were sprinting towards the small figure hunched over the monitor and frantically typing away at the keyboards. When you laid a hand on her shoulder, Pidge whirled around and took a swing at you with her bayard, that you only just managed to avoid, jumping back with a yelp. She swung at you again, but you grabbed her wrist and yanked off the piece of cloth covering your face.

“Pidge! Calm down, it’s me!” you screamed, blocking her next punch. Pidge’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What happened to you?” She reached out for the fresh scar that carved through your left eyebrow all the way to your jaw.

You shook your head, flinching at the sound of alarms blaring and shots firing from what seemed like all around you. There wasn’t any time. Digging in your pocket, your fingers found what they were looking for and closed around the little drive, shoving it into Pidge’s hands. She looked at it, then looked at you, panic clear on her features.

“You can’t get past the firewall, right? Plug that in. It’ll destroy the security systems.”

Pidge’s fingers closed around the drive until her knuckles turned white. “How do you know it’ll work?”

You yanked your gun from its holster. “Because I built the firewall.” You took your spot as lookout in the doorway, shooting sentries and Galra soldiers alike and giving Pidge the time she needed to plug in the drive and get the information she needed. Setting your jaw, you started taking out more and more soldiers: at this point, they’d realised that there was something going on in the control room, and soon they were coming in waves.

“Look, Pidge, no pressure or anything, but could you hurry up?” you yelled through gritted teeth.

“Working on it,” she shouted back, her fingers moving over the keyboard at a lightning-fast speed. So you turned around and kept fighting, determined to protect Pidge. And then your gun stopped working, and you yelped when a blaster grazed your arm, white-hot pain searing through your entire right side. Shaking out your arm, you chucked your gun to the side and grabbed your staff, pressing a button to light the ends up with crackling electricity.

As you fought, the sole thought in your head was that you needed to protect Pidge. She needed to have the time to get the information she wanted, and she needed to make it out alive. Preferably unharmed. But you wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever: your arms were already aching, your strikes came slower, your footwork got sloppy, your breathing heavier. But Pidge needed to make it out alive.

And then she was there, fighting by your side,  her bayard in her hand and the other grabbing your arm and pulling you through the corridors, shouting in her comms about an unexpected guest. You couldn’t resist a grin. Falling into step next to her, the two of you sprinted through the corridors and made your way to Pidge’s Lion.

As soon as you set foot into the Green Lion, you collapsed. Breathing heavily, you leaned your head against the wall and stretched out your legs, rolling your right shoulder to get some feeling back into your arm. Pidge immediately crashed into her seat, grabbing the steering handles and flying the lion into open space, slapping a button on her dashboard that popped up the Black paladin’s face onto her screen. While they talked and exchanged information, you zoned out and wrapped a hand around the wound in your shoulder. Now that the adrenaline of the fight had left your body, the pain increased by the minute, a burning sensation spreading from your shoulder to the tips of your fingers.

“Is-is that–” you heard the Black Paladin’s voice ask. You cracked open one eye and raised your good arm, giving a weak wave to signal your presence. Pidge whipped around.

“Oh, god, Y/N–I’d forgotten you were here. I’m so sorry.” She scrambled over to where you were sitting and crouched next to you.

“’S okay. Don’t sweat it,” you muttered. “You got what you needed?” You sure hoped so, and heaved a relieved sigh when Pidge nodded. Would have been a shame if you’d got yourself shot for nothing.

“But–Y/N, why are you even here?” Pidge flinched as soon as the words left her mouth. “I meant–I’m glad you’re here, I just–how did you know we were here?”

“Been working with a couple of rebel groups,” you said. “They said you would be doing that mission to get intel, but I knew you’d never get past the firewall in time. The mission would fail, and you might get yourself in serious trouble.”

When Pidge rolled her eyes, they shone with a twinkle you recognised as the one you’d grown so fond of. “I would have gotten past it. In time.”

You laughed, grabbing Pidge’s hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to her knuckles. You blame the sudden bravery on blood loss. “I know.”

[snprblu72]

Comforter Comfort

Voltron

Keith & Voltron Paladins

Bonding with the other paladins, blanket included.

Also posted on AO3.

Shiro was the first person he ever allowed himself to get close enough to for him to feel comfortable curling up near on the couch. It was during the spring break at the Garrison his first year there. With his father gone and his foster family not having planned for him to join them on their vacation, he had thought he would have to stay in the dorms. However, when Shiro found out about that, he had insisted that Keith spend the week with him. That was how they ended up on a ratty, but comfortable, couch with the TV playing an ancient episode of some documentary on an ancient civilization. He guessed it was interesting enough.

He slowly scooted down a bit further and stretched his legs out of the curl he normally preferred. They were going to be there a while considering what his mentor had said about the channel holding a marathon on that particular civilization. Maybe he could catch up on some of the sleep he had missed while studying for midterms. Those had been more difficult than he had expected, but also easier in some ways.

Just as he was on the verge of dozing off, a weight fell lightly against his thigh and he startled slightly. A glance showed that Shiro had beat him to sleep by just a few short minutes. He was not about to wake him just to get him to move. The man had to be even more exhausted than he himself was.

He looked around for a moment before his eyes settled on the blanket on the back of the couch. That was the only thing missing and he slowly grabbed it and shook it out over them. It settled over them and he hurried to uncover Shiro’s head but kept his own knees covered. Once that was finished, he turned his attention back to the documentary. This was such a new development that he would need a bit of time to acclimate, but he would sleep soon enough.

-

He had been co opted by Pidge not that long before when he had stopped to check on them. They were sifting through the data, both scrolling on their laptop and the data pad they had handed him, looking for anything that could indicate that their family was being held somewhere or transported. He could tell that the files he was skimming were death records. Understandable. While they were not giving up hope, the records still needed to be checked for thoroughness.

A bump against his shoulder dragged his attention from the data scrolling before him. Pidge’s arm was outstretched with the blanket they were curled up in, a wordless invitation to join them underneath. He obligingly scooted over and pulled the free edge up over his shoulder, knee to hip pressed up against them and he curled an arm around their shoulders, knocking his temple against their’s comfortingly. They returned to their tasks, both more comforted by the contact.

-

A frown pulled at his mouth as he watched Lance stare out of the window with a rather devastated expression. He turned on his heel and made for his room, returning quickly with his comforter in hand. To announce his presence, he dropped the blanket on the blue paladin’s head, causing him to sputter in indignation while he sank down to sit near him.

“What was that for?”

Keith shrugged in response, settling his chin on drawn up knees. “I miss sundaes.”

Lance quirked a disbelieving eyebrow in his direction even as he curled the comforter over his shoulders, hands fisted in the material even as he rested elbows on knees and propped his chin up.

“There’s got to be some kind of ice cream up here in space. Or maybe we can get Hunk to try making it?” he tried again. When he got no response, he continued as if Lance had answered. “You’re right. Hunk would be the better option. At least we know most of what we’re getting into there. And how do we know that ice cream won’t murderously offend someone up here? Maybe it’s like insulting their mother and not in the funny ‘yo momma’ jokes way either.”

That brought a light chuckle from the cocoon next to him.

“You know ‘yo momma’ jokes?”

“I mean, I went to public school.”

-

Hunk was surprised when Keith wandered into the lounge, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and dragging like an extra long cloak or one of those extremely fancy veils or dresses behind him. If that was not weird enough, he then proceeded to flop on the couch and butt his head up against Hunk’s arm like a cat demanding pets. He was just going to go with it and not think too hard. If he did that, he was only liable to freak himself out.

Eventually, he needed his hand back to continue with the calculations he was working on just to hear a whine from Keith before he was scrambling to perch, sprawled out really, on the back of the couch he was lounging on and resting his forehead against the yellow paladin’s neck, draping the edge of the comforter over Hunk’s other shoulder. Apparently that was how the rest of the evening was going to go. He shrugged, settling Keith in a slightly more comfortable position. At least it was warm.

[avidbeader]

Okay, it’s been a roller coaster of a week for the Sheith community as we dealt with the “leaks”, so I’m going to toss something out here to help make it better. Sorry I can’t share a complete chapter of “Skydancer” or “The Quintessential Bond” or “The Icarists” yet, but I promise, I’m trying to peck away at those with what tiny bit of time I have.

This is a story that should probably end up around four chapters. I started it in June, stress-writing during the runup to Season 6. Current chapter is rated T for a couple of swear words but will probably stray into M territory in Chapter 3. Title is tentative but this has been thoroughly beta’ed by the wonderful @latart. I guess I’ll try and get it on AO3 in the next few days.

Give Me a Sign

Chapter 1 - Graduation

Shiro felt the satin at his shoulders slide to one side yet again and growled in frustration. As he reached to try and straighten it for the umpteenth time, Matt laughed and batted his hand away.

“Here, let me.” Shiro stood still as Matt unzipped the robe a little and looped the hood under his necktie. “Step one, check. Now, step two. Pidge! Need a safety pin!”

A tiny woman, with hair the exact same honey-brown as Matt, eeled through the growing crowd of faculty and reached into the pocket created by her elongated sleeve. She produced a pack of safety pins and stepped into Shiro’s personal space after removing one and thrusting the pack into Matt’s hand.

“Hold still. And don’t forget it’s in here after the ceremony or you’ll rip both your hood and your tie.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose and he replied dryly, “Yes, ma’am.” He stayed still as her fingers worked quickly at his throat, pinning the hood dead center underneath his tie. Then she pushed at him to turn around. Matt grinned as she adjusted the hang of his hood, turning the point out to show both colors against the black.

Matt returned the safety pins. “Pidge, meet Takashi Shirogane, our new physics teacher. Shiro, this is Katie Holt, comp sciences department chair and my sister.”

Shiro brightened and held out a hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Matt’s mentioned you a few times. Have I seen you at the faculty meetings?”

She shook hands, not seeming to notice the glove covering his prosthesis, and nodded. “Yeah, probably. Nice to meet you, too. Matt told me about your boot camp reviews for the AP exams. If you’ve got some kind of outline that can be adapted to other subjects, I’d love to see it.”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, I modified it from something the AP Stats teacher did at my previous school.”

“Excellent!” She shot him two thumbs-up and was about to go on, but a cry of “Pidge! Got your safety pins?” from the other side of the crowd made her roll her eyes before taking off.

Shiro chuckled and Matt clapped him on the shoulder. “I swear, you’ll eventually meet everyone here.”

“Really? Because every time I turn around, it looks like you’ve added another dozen faces.”

Matt shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a big faculty, but it’s a big school. We’ve been above two thousand students for five years now.”

Shiro shook his head. His last school, before the accident and prolonged recovery, had been in a smaller town and had a total of about five hundred kids. The graduating class alone here at Glenn High was bigger than that. But being able to step into a job as soon as the doctors cleared him—in the fourth quarter, no less—had been a godsend.

“Have you heard from Ms. Caplan lately?” Shiro asked after the teacher he’d replaced.

“Not for a couple of weeks. She didn’t try to find a job yet; still dealing with the family stuff.”

Shiro gave a tight, sympathetic smile, then jumped slightly as a voice sounded over a bullhorn. “All right, faculty! Two lines, evenly divided! Line leaders, go between the rows of seats and loop around to the front one! Start when the band shifts to the processional!”

Shiro followed Matt, who snagged his sister’s arm as she was passing and pulled her into line in front of him. As the teachers shifted into two groups, Shiro spotted the bullhorn in the hand of a woman in a vibrant pink sundress. For a moment he wondered why she wasn’t in regalia if she were a teacher, then realized as she plunged through the doors into the lobby with the seniors that she’d dressed for visibility against the navy, gold-trimmed robes the students wore. Now she was shouting instructions through the bullhorn at the students, scolding them for getting out of their designated lines.

Matt nodded in her direction. “Have you met Ms. Altea yet? Theater teacher. Always in charge of graduation.”

Shiro shook his head. Pidge leaned around Matt and grinned. “Yep, always and forever. A couple of English teachers tried to take it over a few years ago and it was the sloppiest ceremony we’d had in years. The principal went to Allura and almost begged on his knees for her to come back. She did, but only after she’d leveraged him for doing a fall musical as well as a spring one every year.”

Shiro laughed. He’d only been here for two months and already knew that Glenn prided itself on its arts programs. And the soccer, track, and swim teams. And the fact they offered five languages. And traditionally having the highest average of AP scores in the district.

He was fairly confident that he hadn’t done any damage to the students in the enviro and physics classes he’d taken over. He had simply started on his boot camp review, supplementing the few areas where he noticed weaknesses in the students’ knowledge, and the scores from the practice exams pointed to a robust passing rate. Certainly most of the students had come in from the tests feeling good. The hardest part had been getting used to the fact that everyone here called the environmental science class “APES” instead of “Enviro”.

The music shifted, jerking Shiro out of his thoughts, and he followed Matt out to the rows of faculty seats.

********************

Shiro was dealing with culture shock, yet again. The graduation ceremony was held in the basketball arena of an area university. This was the third ceremony of the day to take place here; the district had nine separate high schools and seven of them were so big that not even the football stands on their campuses would hold all the friends and relatives of the graduating classes. It was so very different from his old school, where they had used the auditorium, or even the small private school he had attended, with the ceremony and reception in a nearby hotel. He looked around as he stood in line in front of his seat, between Matt and a vaguely familiar face from the career and tech department, a large guy who had expressed interest in Shiro’s prosthesis from an engineering standpoint.

Pidge leaned over Matt again as they waited for the students to enter. “You are very, very lucky. This place only got air conditioning a year ago.”

Shiro blinked at that and Matt nodded. “Yeah, it was fucking miserable if the weather was typical June. Last year I think almost all of us cried when we entered the building, we were so relieved.”

The seniors began filing in, following the junior marshals in their white shirts or dresses with gold sashes. Like the faculty, they came in from both sides and did a rather impressive pattern of alternating rows. Even with the very efficient method, it still took ten minutes for the section to fill. Shiro nodded and smiled at a few of the students from his classes, and a couple of seniors actually broke line to fist-bump the teacher beside him, one murmuring, “I made it, Mr. Garrett!”

“Yes, you did, Luis. Knew you could.”

As Mr. Mayfield, the principal, instructed everyone to remain standing for the anthem, Shiro noticed a young man moving to one corner of the stage. He was dressed to the nines in a navy suit, except the jacket seemed to hang one size too large for him.

Then he began moving his arms and Shiro understood. Glenn was the magnet school for the deaf/hard-of-hearing population and the young man was the interpreter. His hands and arms moved continuously through the anthem as he mouthed the words.

Shiro found himself watching the interpreter with growing amusement. He was getting into it, his expression constantly reflecting his thoughts on what he was doing. He showed delight at the jokes the salutatorian included in the welcome, looked overly stern as the senior class president introduced the administration and school board members. Then the student chorus began singing “Seasons of Love” and the interpreter was this close to just dancing across the stage as he signed the lyrics and lip-synced along.

As the seniors who were part of the chorus separated from the other students and filed into the empty rows that had been held for them, Shiro noticed the interpreter change places with another young man who had been seated nearby. The second interpreter was striking, with longish dark hair. His suit was deep burgundy, with a blue-and-gold striped tie to represent the school colors, and his jacket was also a little large to give him greater freedom of movement.

His style was more subdued. He signed precisely and his face showed appreciation for the combination of jokes and serious thoughts that the valedictorian shared, but he was clearly trying to keep general attention on the speaker more than himself. As the interpreter continued with the closing remarks from the student body president and the principal’s warning to the audience not to create noise during the reading of the graduates’ names, Shiro grew more appreciative of his features and began wondering what color eyes he had.

And then Mr. Wimbledon-Smythe, department chair of social studies, began reading the names as students crossed the stage to shake hands with the superintendent and collect their diplomas from the principal. Shiro’s eyes widened when he realized just how fast the man was going. After the first few names, the only noise coming from the audience was the quickest of whoops or claps, because families realized that they might miss the reading of their student’s name. Both interpreters were standing now, taking turns finger-spelling each name. Shiro watched, racking his brain for the ASL alphabet that he learned once as a child for fun, and saw that they were spelling first initials and surnames only.

In a shockingly short time, the superintendent directed the students to turn the tassels on their caps to the left, the students screamed and tossed caps into the air to celebrate, and the recessional began. Shiro followed Matt out and the theater teacher directed them to stay in line, creating a funnel to the exits where families would be coming to find their children. The tech teacher turned to him, grinning openly.

“Okay, Allura just beat her record. Five hundred fifty-seven graduates and we’re done in fifty-eight minutes!”

Shiro laughed. “I can’t believe I’m going to get home in time to watch the game from tipoff.”

“Yeah? Warriors or Sixers?”

“Sixers, I guess. I grew up following the Bulls, so I don’t have a dog in the fight, but the Warriors have enough championships.”

“I hear you. I grew up in Houston. Oh, I think we met but just the once. Hunk Garrett, electrical and mechanical engineering.” “Takashi Shirogane, but call me Shiro. Sciences.”

Their conversation was cut off as the first students emerged from the basketball court and many of the faculty began applauding. Allura was in the middle, without the bullhorn but shouting, “Go, go, GO!” as she encouraged the students outside. As they filed out, many students traded high-fives or ran over to hug a favorite teacher. Shiro was surprised by one young man who exuberantly hugged every single teacher in his line, but played along.

Once the last students were out, Matt and Pidge led Shiro through a side door that let them slip around the growing crowds of family and friends and toward the bus that had been arranged from the school so the faculty wouldn’t have to fight for parking. Pidge unzipped her robe, revealing a loose, light green dress, and unpinned her hood.

Shiro worked his own pin free and handed it back to her. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem. What time are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Nine or ten. I still have a lot of science equipment to inventory and stow.”

She nodded. “I have to go through the laptop carts, make sure everything’s cleared from testing and such. And I still haven’t emptied my desk yet.”

“Emptied your desk?”

“Yep,” Matt replied. “You’ll need to clean out your desk and label all the furniture with your room number. When they do the floors, they just throw everything in the halls. They work so fast you can’t trust them. Get as much as you can into the closets, the big bookcases, or file cabinets. They don’t move those.”

Shiro groaned. “Okay, maybe I’m coming in at eight.”

Pidge straightened, seeing the bus driver headed their way. “Don’t forget, luncheon in the cafeteria at noon. The PTA got Sal’s Catering to do the food, so it should be a nice spread.”

Shiro nodded in response, noticing the two interpreters headed for the reserved parking area. They seemed to be in a heated discussion and finally the first interpreter threw up his hands and got into a car. The second interpreter headed for a motorcycle, trading the burgundy jacket for a leather one from a side compartment and pulling out a helmet.

Shiro hadn’t realized he was staring until Matt elbowed him. “See something you like?”

“You don’t know me well enough to ask that,” Shiro retorted.

Pidge snickered as Matt grinned and answered, “Yeah, I think I do.”

********************

Once again, Shiro found himself comparing his previous school to this one and being impressed. Instead of a basic pizza delivery, the luncheon was a full meal, including two entrees, sides and salads, with everything clearly labeled for a variety of dietary restrictions. There was a raffle with over twenty different gift cards as prizes. Mr. Mayfield quickly but enthusiastically ran through a list of recognitions, and Shiro stood when called upon as one of the faculty members who had joined mid-year.

Pidge grabbed Shiro’s elbow as the meal broke up. “Did you get your room finished yet?”

“Almost, I still have to get a couple more things onto shelves and defrost the mini-fridge in there.”

“Have you covered your shelves yet?”

“Covered them?”

“Yeah, the cleaning crew tends to splash wax on everything. Plus the band kids use some of the rooms for section practice in the summer and you don’t want them messing with anything visible.”

“Um, okay. What do I use? Newspaper?”

She shook her head and called out, “Keith! Hey, Keith!”

Shiro froze as the dark-haired interpreter from graduation turned and headed over. And Shiro found the answer to his question: he had blue eyes that shaded toward gray in a way that made them look almost violet.

“Keith, do you think Ms. Parham still has any old bulletin-board paper?”

He nodded. “Looked like it when I checked in with her this morning. Why?”

“Shiro here needs some for his shelves. Can you show him to her room?” She grinned mischievously, looking very like her brother for a minute.

Keith looked at Shiro, slightly nonplussed, and Pidge rolled her eyes. “Shiro, this is Keith Kogane, our ASL teacher. Shiro’s our new science teacher.”

Keith rolled his eyes in return, mocking her, before holding out a hand to shake. “Yeah, I heard Mayfield say so. Sure, follow me.”

Keith led him to a hall of the sprawling main building he had not seen before. As they walked, Shiro noticed that students had painted a lot of the ceiling tiles. The theme was Spanish: flags for different countries, logos for popular brands or soccer teams. Keith stopped at one open door and tapped on it. “Sarah? You still have spare bulletin-board paper?”

The woman in the room held up one hand as she finished counting a stack of textbooks and wrote a number down. “I do. Didn’t you already cover your shelves?”

“I did, but Shiro here could use some.”

She flapped a hand in invitation and they stepped inside. Shiro looked at the long swaths of colored paper taped across her shelves. Most pieces showed a life-sized outline of a body with colorful clothing labeled in Spanish.

“Sarah’s chair of world languages and we love her forever. She always does these big group projects and then saves them for the end of the year for just this purpose.”

“I thought you loved me because I throw a temper tantrum every spring to try and get you more ASL classes.”

“That too. Maybe next year they’ll listen.”

Each carrying a few loosely-rolled sheets of paper, they started toward Shiro’s room. Keith began rambling, “My position is currently funded through the EC department, not world languages, so they’ll only pay for enough classes to support the DHH kids. It’s always a feeding frenzy when the rest of the students try for the extra spaces. Sarah knows we could support a full slate of classes, and I really want to be in the classroom full time, but we haven’t been able to convince Central Office to spend the money yet. So I teach half the time and do classroom interpretation and student support the rest of the time.”

“How about your buddy?”

“Buddy?” Keith looked mystified.

“The other interpreter yesterday.”

“Oh! That’s Lance. Lance McClain. He’s one of the support staff for DHH.”

“He...gets into his work, I take it?”

Keith scowled as Shiro led him into his classroom. “He doesn’t pull that crap when he’s doing classroom interpretation, at least.”

“So his style is frowned upon?”

Keith sighed, unrolling the sheets of paper on a lab table. “It depends. There’s studies showing that interpreters tend to adjust how they work depending on their audiences. We tend to mouth what we’re communicating more when we have hearing people in the audience, for example. But when Lance gets in front of a large crowd like that...it’s like he’s performing. And that’s not our job. We’re there to assist communication, not put on a show.”

Shiro nodded, thinking about how easily distracted he had been from the remarks being made in favor of watching Lance’s expressions. “I see what you mean.”

Keith stayed to lend a hand as Shiro covered his shelves and insisted on helping carry the defrosted mini-fridge to his car. “Trust me, the football coaches actively search the school for any fridge not behind a locked door and co-opt it for their Gatorade supply. And then they don’t put them back. Keep it at your place. I’m pretty sure it was Mr. West’s before it was Ms. Caplan’s, so she won’t want it shipped to her.”

They walked back in. Shiro planned to take one more look at his room, check in with the department chair, and go home and binge some Netflix, but he was reluctant to part from Keith. As he tried to think of something to ask, debating between coffee or a drink, the office admin’s voice came over the PA system.

“Any teachers in the building, if you are available the counselors need help stuffing report cards for mailing. Please report to student services if you can help.”

Keith glanced at him. “Want to?”

“Sure.”

********************

One of the counselors set them up with stacks of report cards, transcripts, and pre-addressed envelopes, with envelope glue and a box to hold sealed envelopes. Shiro and Keith shared a table and began working through the sophomores, M-R. Keith had obviously helped out like this before and had a system, creasing folds with his thumbnail and swiping glue on the envelopes in two efficient strokes. Shiro did his best to copy him.

As they found their rhythm, they began chatting. Shiro learned that Keith had been riding motorcycles since he was eight years old, had a second-degree black belt in aikido, and lived alone with a pair of cats. He began learning sign language in his teens after a young cousin suffered hearing loss through meningitis. Shiro shared his own love of cats, his taste for the latest Netflix shows, and his dreams of being an astronaut until he exceeded the height limit in college. They compared other places they had taught: Shiro in a small town between their location and the coast, and Keith at the western campus of the state’s school for the deaf.

“I like it much better here. It’s counter-intuitive, but I love teaching ASL to a mixed population. The hearing kids are usually the ones who drive the ASL club and do outreach, because to them it’s more like a cool secret code than learning a language. And it’s just nice to be in a major metro area; I had to drive almost an hour south if I wanted anything that wasn’t a burger chain, pizza, or a mom-and-pop diner.”

Shiro nodded vigorously. “We had one non-Taco Bell Mexican restaurant in our town. That was it. No Indian, no Thai, no Greek...nothing.”

“Ooh, I haven’t had Indian in a while. I think the best one is Rasal’s, over on Western Boulevard. Have you been yet?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Want to go?”

Shiro froze, nearly dropping the bottle of glue, and felt his face grow hot. “I...um, sure. Yes. Absolutely.”

Keith nodded and fished his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and opened a new contact before sliding it across to Shiro. “Drop your info in there. Would Friday work?”

Shiro tapped in his name and number. “Yeah, that’ll be great.” He slid the phone back, then playfully touched his fingers to his lips and brought his hand down in the sign for “thank you”, one of the few that he remembered.

Keith smiled and responded with his own gesture, spreading his fingers slightly and touching his thumb to his chest, then spelled S-H-I-R-O, his fingers almost flying.

Shiro felt a sudden urge to shove the table between them aside and pounce on him.

Keith’s near-violet eyes danced but his own cheeks were turning pink. He cleared his throat and picked up the next report card in his pile. “Race you? Loser buys?”

Shiro grinned. “You’re on.”

****************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Next chapter up...when I get it finished.

[callaeidae3]

For the ask meme, would you please do 1, 2, 4, 5, and 11 for 'The Case of Kogan,K' ? (and the same ones for maybe 'Under the Radar'), if you want? Also number 13 for all your fics in general; thanks! <3

Thank you so muchfor the ask! :D <3 <3

Questions are fromthis ask meme! (Links to fics: The Case of Kogane, K. and Under the Radar)

1. What inspired you to write the fic thisway?

Kogane, K.: *tries to think of what ‘thisway’ means* What inspiredme to write the fic was the thought that Keith isn’t the type who would dosomething to land himself in prison unless his life depended on it, so it gotme thinking, well what if he was put in prison for something he didn’t do?

Under the Radar: *tries to think again ofwhat ‘this way’ means* Thisfic came about when thinking what might’ve happened to Keith had the Garrisonfound out about his knife. The thought that Keith had no one looking out forhim after Shiro left, coupled with the fact that I was studying biosecurity atthe time, … I had some ideas for whump floating around in my head ^^;

2. What scene did you first put down?

I always write thescenes as they come so that I can incorporate the feels of previous scenes intothe later-coming ones I’ve thought of, but in terms of drafting out scene ideas…

Kogane, K.: Oooo it’s been so long and so much hashappened – I can’t remember! ^^; One of the earliest scenes I had envisionedthough was Shiro carrying Keith out of the cell. I was so happy when I finally gotto writing that scene in C9 :’’’)

Under the Radar: The pool-drowning scene, as well as thegeneral idea of Keith being unknowingly kept in a lab environment somewhere atthe back of the Galaxy Garrison campus, were probably the first scenes I had inmind for the fic :o

4.  What’s your favourite line of dialogue?

Kogane, K.: “Because you’re more than just a case file” –Shiro, C21

Under the Radar: “No take backs!” – Lance, C7

5: What part was hardest to write?

Kogane, K.: Writing Keith having to wear handcuffs aspart of prison protocol T.T I hated it as much as Shiro did.

Under the Radar: I felt so sick to the stomach the whole waythrough writing this fic! xD I kept thinking about ideas and detailing scenesin my head in the middle of studying at uni too, and since biosecurity was oneof the papers I was studying at the time, all I could think about was all thatstuff about eradication methods and whatnot being tested on Keith ^^;

11. What do you like best about this fic?

Kogane, K.: I love how dynamic the scenes are. There’sfast-paced, suspenseful scenes, slower-paced, more conversation-based scenes…andso many different intense feels to be had. This fic taught be a lot about howto find different ways to approach the scenes I find more difficult to write(the slower-paced, conversation-based ones), too, and I’m really thankful forthat :’’’)

Under the Radar: I loved the thrill the suspense gave me whenwriting it :’’’) I especially loved writing Lance, Hunk and Pidge figuring outwhat was going on under the radar, caring about what might’ve happened to Keitheven when Keith himself had no idea anyone had even realised he hadn’t beenexpelled.

3. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in themood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do youthink readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I often listen to music whileI’m writing! Usually it’s more background music that I listen to, or if it’sspecific to the mood of the chapter/scene I’m writing, then it’ll be to help mechannel the feels when I’m trying to put words to intense emotion/action/feelsthat’s going on.

Recently, these are some ofthe songs I’ve had playing while I write:

Tomorrow We Fight – TommeeProfitt , Sparkle (Japanese ver.) – RADWIMPS, Nandemonaiya (Japanese ver.) byRADWIMPS, (for Kogane K) Reckless Love - Steffany Gretzinger and Nuvole Bianche - Ludovico Einaudi.

Thank you so much for the ask, Firochai!! <3 

[cinnamonsugarsheith-blog]

Tried something a liiiittle different with this one. Prompt was vet!Shiro. (I think she was expecting something like Yukinayee’s AU, but got this instead. In which our collective children are presh.

Warnings: Basically my toeing the waters of writing ASD!Keith. Mentioned character death, therapy doggos, disjointed fic~ Rating: Teen Pairings: Sheith, historical Shadam

Keith was anxious. He knows he shouldn't be anxious. Rosie is a great girl. But Dr Shirogane was a new vet, and even though Matt assured him he was a really nice guy, and Keith was sure he was... But they'd been seeing Dr Allura since Rosie's very first puppy shots... Keith sighed in relief as he pushed the door open and saw Matt at the receptionist desk--err not Matt. Girl Matt? Matt came through the employee door behind it. "Oh hey Keith!! This is my baby sister Pidge. She's doing her summer internship here!" The girl pushed her glasses up her nose and gave him a smile. Her name tag said Katie. This was too many new people in one day... "H-hi" he stuttered "I'm Keith." A hard swallow. "And this is Rosie." He gestured at the compact pit sitting calmly at his feet. Katie-Pidge stood up and peeked over the counter. "Well aren't you a pretty girl?" She offered Rosie a treat and Matt disappeared into the back to let the doctor know they were in.

Matt waved them back into a room and took Rosie to get her weight. When he returned Keith helped him lift her onto the table. She wasn't very big, but she was solid, and Matt, he would joke, was a string bean. Keith looped her leash around the holder and pet her to distract her from being so high up. He heard a soft click and looked up to see a man, Dr Shirogane, coming in. He was a head taller than Keith and wider and the white coat was pulling across his shoulders over his black scrubs. "Hi, I'm Dr Takashi Shirogane. You can just call me Dr Shiro though. You must be Keith? And Rosie?" Keith curled his fingers more tightly around Rosie's collar. "That's us." "Allura has all sorts of wonderful notes about the two of you in her file. I'm glad you decided to stay with the practice.” His hand landed firmly on Keith's shoulder. "Just an annual today, right? Nothing you want me to look at extra close?" He held his hand out to Rosie, waiting for her to give him a sniff and an excited tail wagging before petting her head. "Just the usual. I have her ESA recert papers too, if you don't mind." "Of course. My Kuro's are up this year too, too bad I can't sign my own." He laughed and gently pulled Rosie's mouth open to look at her teeth. Keith squirmed a little and glanced at Dr Shiro's metal hand, holding one of Rosie's ears back so gently. "They're connected," he said softly. "What, I--" "My arm and having an ESA. It's okay. I don't mind." Shiro gave him a calm smile and went back to peering into Rosie's ear. Keith felt himself burning with embarrassment. He mentally talked himself through how he must have gotten weird looks and questions all the time and how its not that embarrassing to get caught looking at such a high tech prosthetic and... Talking himself through it was not working as well as he was telling himself it was.

Dr Shiro signed the ESA papers and handed them back to Keith once he'd finished checking Rosie over. "Um, Keith, this..." Shiro rubbed the back of his neck as Keith folded up the papers and shoved them into his back pocket. "This isn't standard, but uh... Would you like to get coffee? I'm new in town and... Well I'm sure you know how hard it is to find people who want to socialize when you always have a dog with you." He gave Keith a smile. Rosie nudged his hand, making him remember he needed to respond. "Yes! Yes please-- I--" he reached up and scrubbed his hand over his face. "Coffee would be good." Dr Shiro’s friendly smile was too bright and his hand was on his shoulder again. "Relax. No pressure." He held a card out to Keith. Keith took it, unsure of when a number had been scribbled on the back in dying black pen, and left with a quiet “thanks.” Matt checked them out and gave him a wink, mouthing 'call him!'

-o-

"Well," Dr Coran started during their session two days later, "I take it since we are talking about it now, that you haven't called him?" Keith sighed. "I suck at talking to people. I've been seeing you for three years now and it took the better part of that to get comfortable. I can't even keep a normal friendship, let alone date." "What about Lance?" Keith snorted. "The jerk whose ass I kick in WoW every other day? Hardly. He thinks we are sworn enemies." "Well then what about Hunk?" Keith hummed. Hunk lived next door and brought him cookies and Tupperware full of delicious food in exchange for watching his apartment when he flew out to Hawaii to spend the winters with his family. Hunk.... Hunk could be a friend. "Maybe." "Or Matt?" Keith shook his head. He'd never seen Matt outside of where he worked, even though they followed each others social media now. Matt's little sister had friended him the other day, but he hadn't decided what to do about that. She seemed nice, and she liked Rosie. Coran sighed. "Keith, if he needs a support companion, he's bound to have as many difficulties as you do. Especially with having lost a limb. It might do you well to find someone besides me to talk to about things?" Keith nodded. "Can I?" He held up his phone. "Please!" There was a twinkle in Corans eye as Keith tapped out a quick message. Hey, This is Keith. Rosie's owner. Would you like to go to the park sometime? He held the phone out for Corans approval. He handed it back with a nodd. Keith took a deep breath and hit send.

The response was almost instant. I'd like that a lot. Maybe Voltron Metro park? It's not too far from the office. I could pick you up if you wanted though? Keith made a noise that had Coran lifting an eyebrow and he waved the phone in front of the therapist. Coran only laughed good naturedly. "That, my boy, is called a gentleman!" Keith's phone pinged again. Or we could meet at the office, or if you'd prefer to drive that's okay too. Whatever you want. And again. Sorry to be so weird, I don't get out very much. :o) That had Keith smiling. Who used o noses on their smileys anymore? He shared the thought with Coran who insisted that was a perfectly normal thing to do. Keith had a small smile when he typed out... If we meet at the office it has to be a day Matt doesn't work. :) Good point! Would tomorrow work? Text me your address, I get off at 6. :o) Sounds good Keith felt like throwing up as soon as he hit send and dropped to the space between Corans armchair and the coffee table next to Rosie. He looped his arms around her neck. What on Earth had he just done. He felt Coran move around to sit on the couch, hand lightly touching his shoulder blade. "It'll be all right. And if not, then you will do better next time. Would you like to schedule for the day after tomorrow just in case? I'm sure I can fit you in." Keith nodded. "Just in case."

Shiro pulled up in front of his apartment building at 6:45. A hulking black Sheppard sat in the back seat. Shiro got the dog out of the car and let him and Rosie sniff each other out for moment before shoving them into the back seat together. But they made seemingly fast friends, easily starting to yip playfully and tug on ears as they tussled. "She thinks she's bigger than him, doesn't she?" Shiro laughed at the antics as he and Keith got back into the front. "Definitely." "So, Keith, what do you do?" "I'm a student.... Should I um... Dr Shiro still or?" "Oh just Shiro is fine!" Shiro laughed. "This is social. What do you study?" "Astronomy and aeronautics." "That's amazing. Do you want to be an astronaut?" "Oh I uh... I couldn't. ASD and needing Rosie and all that. Maybe design rocket ships or something though." Shiro smiled. "I was a pilot before I was a vet. Briefly anyways." He held up his arm as if to explain. "My boyfriend at the time was too and he was ASD. It’s definitely still an option, Keith.” This was too deep for first date? Social outing? He hummed noncommittally. "How did you go from being a pilot to a vet?" "Well after wallowing for a month, my brother dragged me to a therapy group.  They talked about service animals and stuff, but being a vet didn't click until I was offered a full ride at a school of my choice due to my injuries. Basically the Garrison didn't want to get sued." He snorts. "Nine years later and I'm a vet!"

When they got to the park they walked around the outskirts of a field centered with a jungle gym. The dogs romped along beside them, pouncing each other and playfully chasing. Keith watched them fondly, playing nervously with the leash he had brought along in case. "Do you mind if I...?" He gestured towards Keith's hand. "I'm sorry about being so touch forward at your appointment. I know that can be... A problem." Keith glanced and offered his hand. This he could do. Coran would be so proud. A blush stained Shiro's face. "Is this a date?" The blush darkened. "I-if you want it to be?" Keith surveyed him. "I would like that." He was definitely doing that thing. That made most people freak out. Where he said things too plainly. Mmmm Shiro must have been uncomfortable if he was blushing. Maybe he should stop talking. Shiro gave him a fond smile. "You remind me so much of Adam..." Keith tilted his head in question. "Um my uh... Copilot. During the crash." He flexed his hand tellingly. "And my boyfriend."

Shiro bought them coffee's from a snack vendor and they settled together under a tree, the dogs  curled together nearby. Kuros much larger form curled completely around Rosie's wriggling one. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable earlier, Keith." It's okay was the right thing to say in this situation. He took Shiro's hand instead. Shiro gave it a gentle squeeze. "I have to get used to being uncomfortable to make things more comfortable..." "I suppose that’s true. But I wouldn't want to overwhelm you..." Keith swirled his coffee in it's paper cup and gave a crooked smile. "I think I wouldn’t mind that so much."

Keith positively gushed about Shiro and Kuro at his appointment the next day. Coran talked him through his feelings about the initial stages of relationships, friendships and romantic ones, and wished him luck. Keith found himself on park benches with Shiro into the evenings with more and more frequency through the next months. Shiro never pressed past holding his hand, and Keith had initiated  tucking himself close to Shiro's side with Shiro's arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. "I want to kiss you." Keith said one day, when he climbed into Shiro's car. Shiro made a choking noise. "Keith?" "Can I?" There was a look of determination on his face. "Of course." Keith turned in his seat, and pushed himself into Shiro's space. Before fumbling with where to put his hands. Shiro gently helped guide them to his shoulders. Keith licked his lips nervously and leaned forward. It was a feather light brush and when Keith pulled back Shiro was twitching with his effort not to chase him. "Can I?" He asked before cupping Keith's chin. Keith nodded and Shiro leaned up, gently pulling him close again. He kissed Keith chastely, sweetly. Brushed his fingers across his cheek and into soft black hair. He let Keith pull back after a moment. Keith situated himself back into the passenger seat and Shiro pulled out of the parking lot without saying anything else. It could wait for the park bench under the stars, when Keith tucked himself against Shiro's side to hide from the cooling autumn and let Shiro run his fingers through his hair.

And they did... Shiro nuzzled into Keith's neck, planting soft kisses. Keith felt at ease and snuggled close to the older man. "I like this." "Me too, baby..." Shiro was enjoying each touch he didn't feel Keith flinch away from and had his fingers tangled in his hair. "Thank you for trusting me." Keith hummed. "I like when you play with my hair." "It's very soft." Shiro gently pulled Keith into his lap. "Special conditioner. Lance recommended it. I told him it sucked." Shiro laughed at that. "I like that too... When you laugh." "Stars are coming out, baby." Shiro glanced towards the sky. Keith looked up and took one of the hands circled around him. He used Shiro's hand to point out different stars and rattled off facts about them. When they finally made their way back to Shiro's car, sleepy puppies in tow, Keith looked at Shiro rather bashfully. "I want you to stay." "Stay?" "At my apartment." He noticed Shiro's heavy swallow. "Keith, we kissed for the first time today... I don't want to rush anything." Keith shook his head. "No pressure." He quipped back to that first day in the exam room. Shiro got it and leaned across the middle console to press a playful smooch to Keith's cheek. Keith grinned and scrambled to kiss Shiro in turn.   "You're sure?" Shiro surveryed him carefully when they pulled up to the apartment building. "Yes." Keith tugged Shiro's hand shyly as he unlocked his front door. "This is cosy." Shiro toed off his shoes and looked around the little studio apartment. Most of the walls were littered with star charts and posters of nebulas. Kuro began sniffing everything out and wagging his tail. Rosie planted herself as the foot of the bed, on a red throw that was very clearly Hers. Shiro let himself be pulled over to Keiths unmade bed, and let the smaller man cocoon them in blankets. "This is nice." Shiro rubbed his hands slowly but firmly over Keith's back. Keith made a quiet noise and pushed himself up, hovering over Shiro. "This is okay?" "Yeah, baby, this is perfect." Keith leaned down to kiss him with a smile that made Shiro's chest hurt.   "Can you stay?" He  whispered, tucking himself back around the older man. "If that's what you want... I should probably warn you that sometimes I have nightmares." "Oh... What do I do... If that happens?" "Talk to me, don't startle me... Sometimes I lash out. Kuro usually barks to wake me up." Keith nodded seriously. "Do you want...not jeans?" "I'm not sure I'll fit in your pants, baby..." Keith hummed and sat up. His hands were on Shiro's waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping and tugging before Shiro could process it. "Jeans aren't comfortable." Shiro chuckled. Keith always wore track pants. He supposed he wasn't wrong though. He helped Keith get them off and let the boy settle back against him. "Thank you, Keith." "You’re welcome...For what?" "Letting me into your space, baby." Kuro hopped up on the bed then, settling next to Rosie along their legs.

Keith slept easier than usual that night, and Shiro slept more soundly. They only woke up when the dogs started whining to go out, and Shiro pulled his jeans back on and sleepily nuzzled into the back of Keith's neck at the doorway while they watched the dogs pad out into the grass. "Next time, maybe you can stay at my house?" "Okay." Keith said simply, relaxing against Shiro. "It's Saturday... Do you want to do something together? Besides go to the park?" They ended up at an arcade. Keith was way too good at racing games, and Shiro handed Keith his ass on a platter at the fighting games. They had dropped Rosie and Kuro at Shiro's and Keith talked absently about how one day he'd have a yard like that for Rosie to run in. Shiro had to hold his tongue on saying he would for this to be Rosie's yard too. He was finding more and more that Keith made him act without thinking. And knew eventually it would probably be to Keith's detriment. So for now he kept the thought to himself.

Shiro knew his luck had run out when he sat up in a cold sweat at 3am. He'd been dreaming about Adam. The crash.

Kuro pushed into his lap and Keith sat close, but not touching, trembling just as hard as Shiro. His hands were gripped tightly around Rosie's collar.

"I'm sorry," Shiro said thickly.

Keith knew this was where he was supposed to say 'its okay.'

This time he said it, and touches Shiro's arm with the lightest fingertip graze.

"You loved him."

"I did... Do... In a way."

Keith made a small noise.

"I think I love you."

Maybe not all his luck had run out...

"I think I love you too, Keith."