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maychorian · 7 years

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Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #53

I am THIS close to actually and totally being caught up on reccing everything I want to rec. Two days behind now. Next week maybe I’ll actually be there.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

flambe by againstmygreeleaf Words: 2,527 Author’s Summary: Generally soup does not warrant a fruit’s presence, but this is a space fruit and it has a suitable savory tang. My Comments: What a great Hunk-centric sickfic. There just aren’t enough of them. Not even close.

Cookies are Best When Shared with Friends by Mikiri for MoonlitWaterSunnyRiver Words: 1,459 Author’s Summary: Hunk was used to dealing with Lance, and he was getting used to dealing with Keith. Either way, Hunk was just glad to have fun with his friends. My Comments: Daw, so adorable. I love these three becoming friends.

A Little Voice by ihaveacleverfandomurl Words: 1,983 Author’s Summary: Shiro’s hesitant to touch the kid, to scare him, but he’s even more hesitant to leave him here to shiver in his sleep, cuddled up with nothing next to long-dead blackened logs. So gently, he places a hand on the kid’s head. Not expecting a near-instantaneous squeak and jump and roll away, across the ground. The kid lands in a defensive posture, and his eyes are darting between the two men, now some feet away from his landing spot.Shiro and Matt find a kid on their camping trip to get away from the pressures of being seniors in high school. Keith may be twitchy and scared, but Shiro is ready to help him in any way he can. But Keith might not stick around forever. My Comments: Aw man, poor tiny Keith, but I love how Shiro and Matt just drop everything to help him and pour their hearts and souls into it.

I’m Only a Crack by Anonymous Words: 6,033 Author’s Summary: There’s not much he knows. He doesn’t know where he is, or who put him here. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or why he was put here at all. He doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t even know his own name. The one thing that he does know is that he has to survive. And to do that he needs to escape, before it’s too late. My Comments: Poor Shiro, getting his mind almost completely wiped like that, but I adored how protective everyone was, and cuddly Hunk was so cute. The team protectiveness and eventual solution were great.

Get Down with the Sickness by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 10,856 Author’s Summary: Catching space colds is nothing new to Shiro. But this particular bug is nasty and especially contagious. The answer: Quarantine My Comments: So indulgent and satisfying, going through all the stages of the prototypical sickfic, from delirium to recovery. Reading this was like sinking into a hot bath.

Late Nights by Sohotthateveryonedied Words: 2,376 Author’s Summary: Shiro is awoken one night to find a bruised and bloodied Keith at his door after yet another fight. My Comments: Aw, poor kids. It would have been very frustrating to be Keith’s friend, I think. But he very much needs one. Good job Shiro for being there.

The Erebrean Period by Mira_Jade Words: 4,752 Author’s Summary: The Erebrean Period: A span of the cosmic timescale stretching from the formation of the proto-sun, to the emission of its first light. Or: A glimpse of a family, as it once was, long ago. My Comments: This is a gorgeous, lyrical fic, beautiful to read, but with an undercurrent of absolute dread and inevitability. It feels like the last step off a cliff. Highly recommended.

The (Not-So-)Necessary Rescue by A_Zap Words: 4,864 Author’s Summary: Lance has been captured by the Galra, and Shiro and the rest of the team rush to save him. Due to a bit of luck, they manage to get there to rescue him but… Well, it turns out that it may not have been as necessary as Shiro thought. In which Shiro learns that he has severely underestimated Lance and Lance is freaking awesome. My Comments: This was a fun break from all those angsty fics where Lance gets captured, much as I love those. Granted, he had a healthy dose of luck assisting him, but he has skills too. It was fun to see everyone’s reactions.

Wings of a Lion by Eastofthemoon Words: 6,120 Author’s Summary: Shiro wanted to strengthen his bond with the Black Lion, but he never dreamed it would go this far. My Comments: Really fun fic in which Shiro gets wings and everyone, including him, has to adjust.

Back in Black by ptw30 Words: 5,584 Author’s Summary: In honor of Shiro Week 2017 - here is a helping of gen fics to celebrate my favorite paladin, Shiro! All prompts, save day 7, are written sometime in season 5 after Shiro escapes his time in Galra captivity. All fics are gen.Day 1: Space/Time (both!) - “Burritos and What They Mean in Space" Day 2: Original - “The Greatest Gift" Day 3: Break/Mend (both!) - "Lullaby" Day 4: The Black Bayard - "The Black Bayard’s True Form" Day 5: Companion - "Things to Do in the Astral Plane When You’re Bored" Day 6: Duty - "A Paladin’s Sacred Duty" Day 7: Free Day/AU - Blade!Shiro Story - "Not Ready” My Comments: Great collection of Shiro-centric ficlets. I think day five is my favorite, but they’re all worth reading.

Mind Games by Rangergirl3 Words: 6,392 Author’s Summary: There’s more than one way to break a person. My Comments: Some really brutal torture scenes here, with Keith as victim. Great job to the rest of the team rallying around him, though.

Worthless by The_Angst_Chronicles for Tidalstep Words: 15,939 Author’s Summary: Lance breaks down after a mission, not knowing that his comm was on. The rest of the team overhears. My Comments: Hecks yeah, Lance having a breakdown and everyone else pulling him back together. I freaking love these fics, and this is a good one. Lots of good cuddling, lots of good reassurance. Maybe a wee bit over the top, but hey, sometimes I like that. I enjoyed this one thoroughly.

Like a Good Pair of Headphones by yet_intrepid for Agapostemon Words: 958 Author’s Summary: Hey,” says Matt, “are those my headphones?” Pidge looks up from flying the wacky green lion ship that she apparently flies, and frowns at him. “What?” “My headphones,” Matt repeats, waving them at her. They weren’t in her bag so much as on top of it, so he wasn’t prying. “Come on, Pidge. The limited edition ones I bought? There’s like fifty pair of these in the entire world, so don’t try and tell me this isn’t the one that was already in our house.” My Comments: This author is absolutely amazing with sibling relationships. They feel so perfectly realistic, antagonistic and comforting by turns, exactly like real life. Pidge and Matt have been through a lot, and they need to reconnect.

Drift Away by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 2,737 Author’s Summary: After a long series of missions and forming Voltron, the bond sticks as the team goes to bed. Shiro tries to stay awake. My Comments: This is so soft and peaceful and warm, despite the brief moments of fear. It just really made me feel good.

Be Ready and Be Brave by yet_intrepid Words: 4,370 Author’s Summary: “Yeah,” says Shiro. “Your mom seems chill.” “She’s really chill,” Hunk says. “She gets stressed a lot, though. Or she did. She was working two jobs before. But she’s great; I love her.” And then he looks at Shiro expectantly, like he’s expecting Shiro to praise his dad in turn. And Shiro wants to. He does. But he can’t get words out of his throat. My Comments: Mind the tags. This is an extremely tense and disturbing portrayal of an abusive situation, though no abuse in shown on screen, just for Shiro’s mindset and the undercurrent of fear in the fic. But it’s really, really good, I mean amazing, so if you don’t have triggers you should definitely read it. Background Shallura, Shatt, and Hance.

Afraid to Get Close by Cocopops1995 Words: 1,274 Author’s Summary: Keith’s pretty sure it started when his mother left him, but he thinks it was after the fourth or fifth foster family gave up on him he really stopped allowing people to get close to him. My Comments: Aw man, poor Keith. I’m so glad he finally got a good hug. He needs it.

And Still the Stars by Bubblekilt Words: 2,279 Author’s Summary: Shiro has a bad night. Black helps, in her way. Written for Shiro Week 2017, Day 1: Space. My Comments: Aww, Black is a good kitty mama. <3

If I Could Melt Your Heart by Cocopops1995 Words: 2,291 Author’s Summary: Keith is missing. Shiro and the team do their best to find him. My Comments: Alternate perspective on a previously recced fic. This version was even better for those achy hc feels. Love the protectiveness, as always.

What goes unseen by kafeicappuccino Words: 2,184 Author’s Summary: ‘They’re everywhere, Takashi.’ His grandfather had promised, a warm smile on his lips, as though he were sharing something precious. ‘No matter where you go, they’re there, but don’t worry. They’re not all bad.’ — He remembered those eyes from almost fifteen years ago, ones that belonged to a youthful and pale face, and that was exactly the problem.Neither hadn’t changed in the slightest. My Comments: What a cool little fantasy AU. I like the use of Japanese mythology, and Shiro’s POV both as a child and as an adult was completely believable. I would read more of this concept.

Home Is Far; Your Arms Are Here by seekingsquake Words: 1,162 Author’s Summary: Maybe… maybe if they have a sleepover, thinking about home won’t hurt so much. Maybe if Lance keeps him wrapped up, Hunk will have the courage to look out the window. My Comments: Aw, poor boys. Hunk and Lance are both homesick and hurting, but at least they have each other.

I’m Your Captain by EagleInFlight Words: 8,045 (3/?) Author’s Summary: **SEQUEL TO WORDS FAIL** Summary: It’d been four years since Lance has last been home. Four years of war, of pain, of home-sickness, of fighting. Today is the day he’ll see the shores of Varadero Beach, he’ll receive his mother’s bone-crushing hug, he’ll see his big family of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and he’ll see his brother who he left on bad terms with. Only…they can’t know he’s a Paladin of Voltron. This was not the family reunion Lance expected.But it was everything he needed. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic, this is a bittersweet and heartwarming homecoming for Lance. I’m glad Keith is there for moral support, with all the complicated family issues going on. I’ll be following this one avidly.

Under the Weight of Belief by yet_intrepid Words: 3,801 Author’s Summary: Before all this, Shiro used to be somebody. One of the best pilots in the Rebel Alliance. He loved his x-wing and he trained new recruits and he flew missions, so many missions, until one went wrong. A Star Wars Original Trilogy AU for Shiro Week 2017! Day 1 - Time/Space and Day 2 - Original/Divergent. My Comments: Man, the beginning of this is so brutal, but the comfort at the end is so good. It really really hurts to see Shiro as a literal slave, but the rescue and the hug at the end almost made it worth it.

Pride And Joy by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 5,850 Author’s Summary: Keith wears the colour red with pride. Sometimes, he wears it with joy. My Comments: Daww, this is the CUTEST. Happy Keith is so sweet and adorable, and singing to mice? Man, I’ve been there.

Children of the Lion Goddess by RukiaG Words: 5,471 Author’s Summary: Altean mythology claims that the Lion Goddess created the Universe, and that her four children protect Altea of all evil. However, Altea and its solar system is long gone, its people hunted down and slaughtered by order of Emperor Zarkon, its culture eradicated and its gods forgotten. Forgotten, but not dead, and soon the Voltron Paladins will find out that some traces of Altea still remain. Or: Team Voltron finds an Altean temple and somehow Shiro is adopted by a magical space lioness. My Comments: I did not read the summary for this very carefully before I started reading, so at first I thought it was just a fun exploration fic, like an episode of Star Trek or Stargate. Partway through, though, it takes a turn for the AMAZING and ADORABLE. Try it out. I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.

Calls Me On and On by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 7,614 Author’s Summary: Shiro: Then and now My Comments: This fic is absolutely brilliant, one of bosstoaster’s best works ever, and she’s done some amazing, amazing stuff. I loved the way past and present were interwoven, and the contrast between Shiro then and now and how that eventually flipped on its head. A really, really good read, felt like a whole universe in a tiny fic.

i spy with my little eye, something beginning with squeak by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 5,694 Author’s Summary: “Look it doesn’t - it doesn’t matter just, it’s - what are you doing here?!” The mouse looks up at Keith. It understands what he’s saying, it absolutely does. But it’s purposefully choosing to ignore his question. The audacity. Keith grits his teeth, running a hand through his hair. It’s not like they can go all the way back to the castle now. The planning for the mission is underway and they’ll be taking off soon. Probably as soon as tomorrow, even. The war won’t wait for them. They have to keep going. Mice and all. “You can’t be here. It’s too dangerous it -” the mouse is tiny, comfortably fitting in his hand. “You’re a mouse?!” Keith exclaims, voice low. It’s ridiculous. This cannot be real, but it is. The yellow mouse flexes its arms with gusto, pulling all kinds of poses as if to say it’s strong and perfectly capable of fighting in this war. Keith seriously doubts that. —- Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora, and soon discovers - in more ways than expected - he’s not alone… My Comments: This is SUPER sweet. Platt’s mannerisms felt very mouselike, and I loved the reason he was there. Keith also has a lovely roommate in a not-dead Regris, which is bonus.

Back from the Edge by Emerald_Ashes Words: 2,603 (1/?) Author’s Summary: The paladins are still recuperating after the events that transpired between them and the Galra. Yet the war continues. They’ve been lucky to avoid battle for as long as they have, but soon enough they will be summoned into the fray once more. And while Lance is healing, he has to learn to deal with his new demons. My Comments: I am VERY excited for this sequel to one of my favorite hurt!Lance fics by one of my favorite hurt!Lance authors. It’s such a good aftermath, and already it’s pushing a lot of my buttons, like a LOT of them, with Lance feeling weak and tired and lonely in recovery and just needing attention but also feeling bad for needing attention. Like I just wanna coo at him and wrap him in blankets and give him tea and cookies. Fortunately he has a loving team to do that for me, but I can’t help the way I feel. Can’t wait for more.

Try to Try Hard by yet_intrepid Words: 4,874 Author’s Summary: “Shiro,” Keith says, and he tries to be calm. “Are you…okay?” Shiro lifts his head a little. Keith has never seen him so pale. The blood is still pumping out and Keith can’t stop staring at it. He should fix it. He should fix it. He doesn’t know how. [Shiro loses his hand, Aladdin AU edition. Written for Shiro Week Day 3: Break/Mend and Day 5: Isolation/Companion.] My Comments: The fic this is prequel to is mostly fluffy and cute, but this fic is very much not those things. It’s brutal and sad, but the second chapter has some very nice comforting and a very cute baby Lance to kinda sorta maybe make up a little bit for Shiro getting his hand chopped off with an axe. Somewhat.

Fear Itself by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 7,277 Author’s Summary: After an assassination attempt, Slav demands asks that the paladins come to protect him. With seven pilots, five lions, and one castle, they end up able to send along one person. Ryou volunteers himself. Kind of. He may not have thought this through very well. Shiro Week 2017, Day 2: Original/Divergent My Comments: I love this fic SO much. Ryou is wonderful, and the Slav characterization is perfect, somehow annoying and endearing at the same time, just like he is in the show. I love how hard Ryou worked to try to understand Slav and meet him on an emotional level, even while he had to hold back his irritation. He did a great job. I’m proud of him.

Through Adversity to the Stars by Sylindara Words: 8,225 Author’s Summary: Hunk bonds with his teammates and learns to fly. My Comments: This is soooo good, and feels so very canon. In fact I’m just gonna take it as canon. Something like this absolutely happened in between the scenes in the first season. I loved Hunk bonding with everyone, especially in the lessons with Shiro. Wonderful fic.

parallel by buttered_onions Words: 5,656 Author’s Summary: The failure of the Kerberos mission changes everything. Posted as a chaptered fill for vldplatonicweek: Day Two: Inside/Outside. Keith and his daemon…adjust. Day Three: Trick/Treat. Pidge and her daemon keep their promise. Day Five: Change/Growth. Keith and Tarryn learn to wait, and to react. Day Six: Distance/Proximity. Shiro returns home. My Comments: My only complaint about this is that it’s just too short. The worldbuilding is lovely and the characterization is spot on and the plot is fun. And I just want way, way more.

Care by bookwormgir1LH Words: 6,840 Author’s Summary: Five times Coran looked after his team when they were sick, and the one time they took care of him.Cuddle number 8: Reluctantly My Comments: This is so very sweet and hearfelt and genuine. I love Coran taking care of all his kids, and I love his kids taking care of him.

#voltron legendary defender #weekly voltron fic recs #fic rec #vldgen

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camachameleon · 7 years

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Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 1/∞

VLD Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** = favorites )

**Moonset Deep by MilkTeaMiku (fairydens on tumblr)

Word count: 80,000 (32/?)

Summary: All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

For Lance, humans were a mystery. He’d lived beneath the surface of the ocean with his shoal his entire life, and had intended to remain there. He knew the danger humans posed to his kind, and what would happen if he came close to one. That’s why, when he found one drowning, his first instinct was to save him.

He’d never been good at following the rules anyway.

Comments: Klance featuring merlance! and human!keith. Also there is so much good art based off of this fic. I love the world building in this story, the details make this fic seem so real you almost forget it is fantasy. The progression of their coming together is very natural and not forced (I’m a sucker for slow burn). A song that always makes me think of this fic is called Oceans Away by A R I Z O N A.

In All The Stars by Tea Party on Ice (A_Conscious_Dreamer)

Word count: 5,568 (1/1)

Summary: Shiro liked to downplay his memory loss for the other members of the team, but Keith knew better. He knew because there was one significant thing Shiro had forgotten—his soulmate bond with Keith.

Keith could live through that (maybe) but the Hanahaki Disease, however (the rare result of a neglected soul bond) would be a little more difficult.

Comments: Sheith Soulmate AU bc its kinda my thing. Also I really liked this scene: “A large hand on his shoulder as Hunk leaned closer. ‘You alright, man? It wasn’t the food, was it?’

He went to respond—I’m fine—but found himself coughing instead, large dry heaves that irritated his throat further and made his breathing stutter and gasp. Swallowing heavily as they died down, he opened his eyes to reassure everyone but froze in horror instead.

Scattered on his lap, on the table, the floor, and gathered on top of his meal like garnish were petals of a deep, deep red—Keith’s favourite colour, the colour of passion…and of death.

His death.”

**The Quintessential Bond by avidbeader

Word count: 40,637 (14/?)

Summary: Quintessence is the source of life for all things in the universe. Its harmonics vary with each individual. But Terrans have a unique feature where the quintessences of two people can blend so thoroughly that the two are connected in body and spirit. So far there has been no provable weakening of the bond due to distance once it is awakened. But now, two soulmates are about to be separated by an entire solar system for over a year.

Or, my take on a Sheith soulmates AU.

Comments: Soulmate AU bc this is me. Also, definitely one of my favorite voltron fics of all time. Honestly don’t understand how this doesn’t have more views? The amount of thought that went into the plot and the characterizations and the science stuff is phenomenal. Also Keith+Pidge broship is my thing. Song recommendations to set the mood... Moondust and Cosmic Love.

Lifeline by spicygenou

Word count: 1,751 (1/1)

Summary: Keith has always had an approximate idea of when his Soulmate and he would meet, the words revealing more than just their flirtatious personality. Likewise, Lance knew that his words would be something corny, based on how his Soulmate reacted. This is the story of how they finally met.

Comments: Klance. Soulmate AUs are my thing ok? And this one is especially adorable and fluffy. Also coffeeshop AU in a way.

**Ignorance is Bliss by YouAreInAComaWakeUp

Word count: 172,675 (30/30)

Summary: As it turns out, learning that your house is haunted makes the ghosts a lot more aggressive. Who knew?

Ah, well. At least one of them is hot. And he’s the less-evil one, too, so that’s always a plus.

Comments: Klance with Ghost!Keith and Human!Lance. I LOVE THIS FIC. I got so attached to all the Voltron characters all over again in all new ways, even the minor ones. Like, these characters in this story had such depth, and were so multidimensional that I will never see them the same again. All of them were so completely brought to life and for me, reading this was a life-altering experience. Also, there is a bunch of fan art based of this fic, and its all linked in chapter descriptions so don’t forget to check those out too. I really loved this amazing animated video from my favorite scene in the entire story.

Might want to read the warnings for this fic before reading just in case.

Don’t Fret by Qpenguin98

Word count: 5,643 (1/1)

Summary: It starts with a headache. Keith gets sick.

Comments: Klance sickfic with lots of cuddling. Serious, but fluffy.

i toss and turn by knightly

Word count: 6,749 (1/1)

Summary: Keith is sick, and someone comes to check in on him.

He’s just about to try to smother himself again when his door whooshes open. His eyes dart automatically towards the door, and he squints at the figure. It’s tall and skinny and dark, which leaves only one person it could be. Lance.

His heart does a tiny little kick in his chest, and he has to redouble his efforts not to cover his face again. Of all of the people who would come to check on him, it would be Lance.

Comments: Another Klance sickfic because Lance taking care of Kieth while he’s sick. Lots of fluff and cuddles.

Shared Stars by Kitsune_Moonstar

Word count: 2,313 (1/1)

Summary: Keith’s had the little cluster of stars on the inside of his wrist for as long as he can remember. He didn’t know if it was a human thing or just a him thing, but it was one more thing that made him different from the rest of the Blades.

Comments: Another Sheith Soulmate AU featuring a BOM raised Keith. Found this one through the Dads of Marmara tag. Interesting take on an alternate first-meeting where Keith meets Matt and Sam before Shiro. Matt & Keith bros are always welcome. (if you find more Matt & Keith friendshipfics pls gimme thnx)

My Constellation by Kalira

Word count: 5,862 (1/1)

Summary: Keith’s heart leaps when his mark changes to show Shiro’s name - and sinks with the fear that Shiro’s will never show his. But is a mark really necessary to fall in love?

Comments: Sheith Soulmate AU. A little heartbreaking, but the fluff overpowers it in the end.

Soulmarks and Skidmarks by FallingNarwhals

Word count: 9,753 (7/?)

Summary: Keith didn’t want much. A steady job, a place to call home, and maybe figure out the soulmark on his ankle that kept him emotionally tied to a stranger.

Hunk is fresh off of a bigoted and terror ridden Earth all but clutching his degree by his fingertips, and decides that the small outpost town is perfect to live.

And neither of them can deny the small throbbing of happiness though their marks.

Comments: Heith Soulmate AU with lots of world building. Also Mechanic!&Racer!Keith and Mechanic!Hunk. I was getting some slight SW:TPF vibes while reading this, but maybe thats just me.

The Man in the Mask by kitausu

Word count: 1,076 (1/1)

Summary: Keith finds himself at a party he doesn’t want to be at but with a man in a mask he maybe wouldn’t mind getting to know better

Comments: NSFW. Also Heith bc Heith is life.

Mirage by LavenderWife

Word count: 18,307 (5/5)

Summary: Keith and Lance crash on an alien planet. With nothing but desert for miles and their lions broken, the two must learn to work together if they have any chance of surviving the planet’s mysterious inhabitants and getting back home.

Comments: Some good fluffy and action-packed Klance bonding. Includes some whump and flexible!Keith. These two standoffish and competitive goofballs are forced to rely on each other a lot in this fic and in turn start to open up about their fears and insecurities. The amount of desperation and vulnerability Keith and Lance are forced to show the other while on the run is physically tangible here and I love it.

Kiss From a Rose by BossToaster(ChaoticReactions)

Word count: 14,176 (6/6)

Summary: 5 times Shiro got kisses from the team, and one time he returned them

Comments: SHIRO KISSES AHHH but seriously he’s so adorable and the team giving Shiro (platonic) kisses is my kink.

**A Long Time Ago (We Used To Be Friends) by Mikiri

Word count: 32,580 (1/1)

Summary: Originally Keith was supposed to have been Shiro’s copilot for the Kerberos Mission. They bonded over the thought of being on a mission together. But that all fell down the drain when something was found wrong with his blood. The fall out of the mission failure changed Keith forever.

Comments: Gen with lots of Holt family + Shiro + Keith bonding bc both these goofballs need more love and the Holts agree so they are basically adopted now. The original Garrison Trio woo! This is part of the Haven’t Thought Of You Lately At All Series which is waiting on its next installment and I am so excited for bc this may be my favorite voltron fic out there. What can I say I am a sucker for the Holts/Keith bonding storyline. Some tone setting songs are One Minute More, I Lived, and my fav, Brother by Kodaline.

VLD Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

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pabotofus · 7 years

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A Long and Screamy Rant

So this is a rant dedicated to @apvrrish's fic (aknightley on AO3) 'calling me to come back', a gem of a fic and a sincerely gorgeous work. (If you haven't read it yet, go do it here and now!! Seriously, you won't regret it)

I was originally going to make this only about how I felt, but she writes so well I have to put something about her writing style there

Spoilers for the fic under the cut!!

1. Her worldbuilding

Literally once the fic started, I had such a good idea of what the shop looked like. Even if it may not have matched her mental image, it was so clear in my head (which is extremely rare for me). Apvrrish also does amazing descriptions, and it's like I'm actually living in the moment. It's so awesome!!!

2. Characterization

She nailed it. Completely and actually nailed it; bullseye after bullseye; on point. Shiro and Keith's relationship, later on Keith and Lance's relationship, Pidge (idk why I really liked the mental image of Pidge with a bun. I just did) staying up really late to help Keith, the way pIDGE CAN USE HER MAGIC THROUGH ELECTRONICS HDKCKSKCKFD

3. Lotor and Honerva/Hagar

Honestly, I was going to make this a side note on characterization, but this is so good it deserves its own topic. Honerva is so extra and I love it? I mean obviously it's not cool that she literally tried to kill Lance so that Lotor could go to a school. But that is something that she would totally do, and I can't really express my love for the all of this.

I also love the way aknightley wrote (or rather, mentioned) Lotor. Here's a beautiful beautiful quote: "Lotor was evidently interested in genetic science, something that Alfor specialized in, but Alfor was also specialized in avoiding people he didn’t care for, something Keith found enviable."

So maybe that quote doesn't focus on Lotor specifically, but it's such a GOOD SENTENCE. It wasn't the type of funny that would make me burst out into laughter, but the kind of brilliant genius that made me stare at my laptop screen and re-read that sentence five times, because it's that good.

4. While we're on this topic, QUOTES.

"Scrolling to a number that’s only labeled with a small bird emoji and a poop emoji, he texts, Can you do some research for me?" It isn't really the quote itself that I liked, per se, but the idea that Pidge's contact name is a bird and a poop emoji. That is perfect?? And I love it so much???

“Am I wrong, Sunshine?” Lance asks, tilting his head and smiling slyly." Lance calls Keith Sunshine. LANCE CALLS KEITH SUNSHINE OH MY GOD I CANT??? !!!!!!!

"You don’t need it to look pretty, Keith thinks, unbidden." Do I even need to explain here? Seriously, look me in the eye and ask my why I love this quote so much, I dare you. KEITH ADMIRING LANCE'S BEAUTY IS MY GODDAMN JAM

"“Sure, kiddo,” Shiro says, taking a sip of coffee with raised eyebrows." This. THIS!! The amount of pure goodness in this line is enough to make me cry. Shiro knows. Shiro knows!!!

"“Besides the obvious reasons,” Shiro says, raising his eyebrows. Keith gives in to pettiness and uses his magic to fling the pieces of cereal still on the counter at his face, grinning when they nail him directly in the nose." THIS IS THE GOOD BROGANES CONTENT THAT I LIVE FOR DID YOU KNOW??? Again, with characterization,, such perfection.

"“A customer,” Pidge says, doing air quotes. “A customer you dream about and who makes you go super smiley when he calls you on the phone.”" PIDGE KNOWS. SHIRO KNOWS. THEY ALL KNOW AND STILL KEITH REFUSES TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT. A GOOD TROPE. I VERY MUCH APPROVE.

"“So I guess I should -- um -- take this off?” He pulls lightly at the material over his chest and Keith feels his own face heat up." FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NO, I DONT ACCEPT OTHER ANSWERS. THIS IS LAW.

"Lance leaned in close so he can peer into Keith’s face.

Across the room, a cedar branch catches fire." AGAIN. FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NEED THERE BE ANY MORE PROOF? (Also, I hope all these quotes convey the immense love I have for aknightley and her writing)

“I’m going to have to buy her something very sparkly,” Keith murmurs to himself, smiling at the little heart she’s drawn next to her name.

Just,, sparkles!! ✨✨give Allura all the sparkly things 2Kforever please and thank you :)

“I’m good, Sunshine,” Lance says, stretching a little. “In fact, I kind of feel lucky right now.”

OHHHHHH BOY. THIS IS THE CLICHE BUT WONDERFUL TYPE OF THING THAT A HERO GENERALLY SAYS BEFORE THE BIG SHOWDOWN AND I LOVE IT A LOT??? ITS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL GIVE ME EVERY AND ALL THE CLICHE TROPES

5. Keith taking off his protections so that he could talk with Lance in his dreams

I'm probably reading way too much into this, but Keith literally let Lance inside all of his defenses. This is his how much he likes Lance. He stripped down all his protection that he's had for like, forever and let himself be vulnerable ALL FOR LANCE. I CANNOT BELIEVE,, THE SHEER EMOTION AND TRUST SHOWN IN THIS SCENE,,, UGH MY HEART

6. Similarly, the garden scene

This is Keith's private place. This is where he goes to remember his parents, and he let Lance come with him. Again, probably reading way to much into this, but Keith is actually letting Lance in? I mean it's never stated explicitly in the fic but I don't think Keith really goes around sharing the garden with people... wHICH MAKES THIS SO MUCH MORE SPECIAL HDJCKDKSKC I WAS LITERALLY CLUTCHING MY CHEST I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS

7. Keith giving Lance his mom's jacket

Keith didn't even let Shiro, his own brother, keep some of his parents' books from him. Granted, it was a different situation, but still. Keith is incredibly protective of anything and everything related to his parents, so the fact that he let Lance wear and KEEP his mom's jacket?? Is like the equivalent of other people literally ripping out their heart for someone else. The Klance here is absolutely wonderful.

8. The 'fuck your emotions' scene

WELL DAMN, APVRRISH, FUCK WITH MY EMOTIONS WONT YOU?? THEYRE BOTH SO GODDAMN SELF SACRIFICIAL??? LIKE LANCE I GET IT YOU LOVE HIM AND DONT WANT HIM TO GET HURT BUT DONT PUSH HIM AWAY LIKE THIS PLEASE,, ON ONE HAND THIS SHOWS HOW MUCH LANCE CARES FOR KEITH AND WANTS HIM TO BE SAFE BUT ON THE OTHER HAND 'FUCK YOUR EMOTIONS' LANCE QUOTES LIKE ITS NO BIG DEAL... stop taking both mine and Keith's hearts and stomping them into bits you HEARTBREAKER

9. "The bell, when it rings above Lance's head, still cruelly sounds like laughter."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. CATCH ME SCREAMING INTO THE VOID BECAUSE DAMNNNNNNNN. THE HOLY UNION OF BEAUTIFUL WRITING AND ALL OF THE FEELS IN THE WORLD. My eyes do not deserve to see the glory that is this sentence,, I had to give it a separate topic from Quotes because it was just. So good,,, Even now I feel like I'm not doing it justice, but it's so MIND BLOWINGLY AWESOME that I just can't. 👏🏻👏🏻 you did good, apvrrish.

10. Keith realizing he loves Lance

Need I say any more? Literally ALL I could dare to ask for. It's beautiful and I love it a lot. I also like how you didn't make it this big panicky moment for Keith, because honestly? Finding out that you're in love with someone isn't supposed to be all 'oH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO THIS IS BAD'. If realizing that you're in love with someone is bad, well, why are you in love with that person in the first place?

I kinda went off on a tangent there but anyways!! My main point- I really REALLY liked you portrayal of this scene and the way you wrote it. *swallows down the screams of the damned my emotional heart*

11. The dandelion

They're soul bound. They're soul bound, and Keith used a love spell thingy to track down Lance because he loves him and holy hell they're SOUL BOUND. I mean, the whole soulmate thing is low key overdone, not just in this fandom but everywhere. Yet apvrrish manages to put her own unique spin on the whole thing, incorporating magic and the idea of 'marriage bonds', which is really unique.

12. The idea of modern magic

Okay so I've been trying to go in chronological order but as I keep reading I just find this world so so cool. Most times there's a magical AU, the characters are somehow in the past, or it's a different world. But this, this is a combination of modern tech and somehow also these awesome magical abilities. There are potions with real life ingredients (certain types of wood, flowers, stones or minerals, etc.) and for realistic purposes. This is so realistic that I can actually imagine it happening, which is GREAT because it shows just how good of a writer that apvrrish is, but at the same time, makes me wish so so hard that I could be part of this world. Modern magic,, hdjckskc stab me in the heart with everything I've ever wanted, won't you?

13. “True love or some shit, I think,” Lance says cheerfully, and waves his hand.

Another quote too good for the Quotes section. He says this so nonchalantly?? It fits Lance's character SO WELL and so was really funny (idrk why it just made me smile a lot). Also, they're in LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE~

14. Red!!

Beautiful cat child is cute and deserves all the love. I ADORE witch familiars, and Red helping Keith out with the exorcism thing was really pleasing to read. Also,, Red and Lance interactions. The pLaYFuL bAnTEr between Keith and Lance. Hhhhhhhhhhhhh I love this so muchhhh

15. The ending

tHE ENDING, OH MY GOD THE ENDING. THEY LITERALLY RODE INTO THE SUNSET ON A MOTORCYCLE. IM CRYING ITS SO CLICHE BUT BEAUTIFUL??? ME, SOBBING? ITS MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK BECAUSE THIS IS A GORGEOUS CONCLUSION.

Also! "“Why not?” he says quietly, leaning back against Lance’s chest. “We’ve got time.”"

That. THAT. I've already said this in a comment on the fic itself, but this is so good it needs to be said again. This entire story has kind of a recurring theme of how Keith doesn't have enough time with his loved ones (his parents and Lance because of the curse). But now that he broke the curse, he finally had time to be all cutesy and happy with Lance because they have time. Lance is no longer in danger of dying, and so they can take the long way and enjoy life just because now, they can. Catch me screaming into the void again because THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

A last note- I found a song that kinda fits for this fic. The lyrics match the best, but in general the song is also super pretty!! So if you have time give it a listen because it's,, so good (jUST LIKE THIS FIC).

I still feel like all this ranting isn't enough to do this work of art and perfection justice, but anyways!! Apvrrish, continue being the awesomely amazing writer you are.

~Paladin

#honestly!!#a gem of a fic #voltron #vld #fanfiction #apvrrish #calling me to come back #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i still love it so much

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the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 7 years

Note

Can you make a fic where Lance gets a brain injury and the team isn't sure how to go about helping him like he can't speak right, or gets frustrated/upset easily

I can try!

—

Everything happened so fast, the light, the explosion, the searing pain that came when the shock wave ripped through Blue.

Lance didn’t remember much after that, he remember falling out of his seat, his hands gripping at his head as if he was trying to claw the pain out. He remember screaming at the top of his lungs, his throat going raw by it.

He didn’t register when his team started to scream for him, he didn’t remember when Blue landed back in the castle, he didn’t remember when the pod shut on him, enclosing him in safety and coolness.

Yet the pod could only do so much and it couldn’t heal Lance all the way.

“Allura what happened?” Keith paced in front of the pod, chewing on his glove.

“I’m not sure, Coran?” Allura casted her concerned gazed at the older man and Coran gave a small smile.

“It appears that when we blew up the power plant, it released a wave of Nonisgeg.” He gazed sadly at the ground.

“What’s that?” Pidge asked as they sat on the ground, watching the Red Paladin pace the room.

Coran started to twirl his moustache, “Nonisgeg is a gas that can be very deadly under long term exposure. It attaches and damaged the most important parts of the organism it hits. I didn’t realize that the power plant the Galra had contained this, it hasn’t been used in years because of its deadly side effects.”

“How did it get through the Blue Lion then?” Shiro questioned, crossing his arms.

“The lions aren’t invincible, I have a feeling that when the shock wave was released it hit Blue harder than the other and some of theNonisgeg got inside. Lance may have had his helmet up, thinking he didn’t need to protect himself.” Alluras voice was almost a whisper and it sent shivers down everyone’s back.

“Lance was closer than the rest of us.” Hunk started to chew on his fingers, panic slowly bubbling over.

“How hurt was Lance?” Keith’s voice only held concern and Coran looked at his tablet.

He read over the charts, frowning at the words that covered his screen. “Physically he’s fine, but it looks like his brain took some damage from the gas. Hopefully the pod can fix it.”

“And if it can’t?” Hunk asked, his legs shaking. No one answered.

A few quintants passed before Lance was released from the pod, Hunk catching his best friend as he fell. “LANCE!?” He brought his friend in for a hug, ignoring how Lance didn’t hug back right away.

“Shouldn’t he be in there longer?” Shiro quietly asked Coran as the team swarmed their friend.

“I had a feeling this would happen. The pod can’t fix many internal injuries regarding the brain, and since that was the only part Lance was injured the pod did what it could.” Coran swipe a few things away on his tablet.

Shiro stared at Lance, he looked better, he looked healed, but was he? “Do you think he was completely healed?”

Coran shook his head slightly, “We will have to see.”

The dinner table was oddly quiet, Lance simply staring at the utensils in front of him, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“You good man?” Hunk asked as he sat down with his own plate of food.

Lance gave his friend a small nod, moving to pick up his spoon. He started to scoop up his food, frowning when it slide off his spoon. He attempted again and again and again, the goo never staying on his spoon long enough for Lance to eat.

Now the usual reaction would be Lance cracking a joke about the goo but instead Lance released a deep breath and slammed his hand down on the table. “Just stay!”

The team was silent as they watched their friend wobbly stand from the table and exit the room, unfamiliar words falling out of his mouth.

“What just happened?” Allura put her spoon down, glancing at the paladins. No one had an answer.

The next morning Lance didn’t show up to breakfast and when Hunk went to go check on him Lance was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees, his shoulders shaking. “Hey, you okay?” Hunk sat next to his friend.

“I don’t like being alone.” Lance’s voice was cracky and Hunk felt his heart drop. Lance had never had a problem being alone, sure he loved people but he was always content sitting all by himself if he needed.

“Well everyone else is awake now, do you want to come eat breakfast?”

Lance shook his head no and Hunk stared at the ground.

“Do you want to go train?” Hunk wasn’t sure if he should put that idea in Lane’s head, but he was healed. Right?

“Yeah.”

Training was a bad idea for Lance. He got so frustrated and upset at everything. Nobody knew what to do, usually Lance was supportive of the others, screaming compliments and encouragements to them from across the room. Not today.

Lance nearly started a fight with keith because why does he get the swords and Lance got the gun?!

He got upset when Pidge tackled him in their hand to hand combat session.

He would snap at Shiro if the older paladin attempted to calm him.

“He’s acting like a child!” Pidge threw her hands up in the air, letting her anger release itself.

Hunk had taken Lance out of the room, leaving everyone where they stood on the training deck.

“Also what’s up with his talking? It seems dumbed down, or just off.” Keith crossed his arms, his eyes squinting as he thought.

Shiro sighed, “we gotta go talk to Coran.”

They talked to Coran for a few hours, expressing their concern for their teammate and Coran nodded his head along with everything that they were saying.

“I fear that he was hurt more than we anticipated.”

“Is there any way to fix him? He’s going to tear the team apart at this rate.” Shiro inred the looks Pidge and Keith gave him.

Coran was silent for a few ticks, his brain thinking of ways to help. “I have a few ideas that we can try, things that I know will work but I will need some time. You all just need to be patient, Lance doesn’t like what he’s doing but he can’t help it.”

Everyone nodded, they could do that.

---

Eh I don’t really like this but I had no ideas for this lol

Also Lance does get healed and they have a huge bonding moment because of it!

I hope you like it!

Thank you!

#langst #langst prompt #tw brain injury #lance does get healed #don't worry #my writing #long post #I hope you like it #thank you #supportive team

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allebooklover · 7 years

Text

To Light The Way

This is for the Voltron gen minibang ( @voltrongenminibang ). So much shit happened to me during the bang it was like I got cursed and I wasn’t sure if I could finish it at all, but its done!

Art is by @trcelyneart , IT LOOKS HELLA AWESOME GO SEE IT. I actually completed this fic at the very last second so the fact that they managed to do art that accurately fits what I wrote from what I directed without complaining is an act of awesomeness I cannot hope to match *bows down in thanks and awe* seriously owe them. GO SEE THE ART.

Tags: Allura, Coran, Shiro, Keith, Lance, Pidge, Mice, Road trip (at the end), Modern au, vigilante, ish, mystery, also ish

Summary: When her father dies in mysterious circumstances and leaves her alone with nothing but questions, Allura sets out to find the truth.

Or the time Allura decides to go Sherlock with her family-friend Coran and the five friends she makes in the process.

Rating: T

Wordcount: 13253 words

Read more below!

Allura recalls her father as a great man, if a little distant.

She remembers staying up for him late at night, leaning against the banister of the stairs and determinedly trying to keep her eyes open until the creak of the opening front door woke her, or, if Allura had given into the temptation of sleep, the warm touch of his arms waking her from her doze as he picked her up in his arms gently as if she were still a baby instead of five and carrying her off to bed. She remembers his tired smile, the softness of his beard and the smell of ink and something sweet wafting off his clothes, and how sometimes the crinkle in his eyes turn sad when he looks at the picture of her mother above the fireplace. She remembers, with nostalgia so deep that it’s almost bottomless, the deep rumble of laughter that mixes with her own higher giggles they ran through the fields of flowers on their trips outside the city, gripping tightly onto his hair and staring around her with curious, gleeful wonder. Years spent with him learning self defence, a way to bond between the two of them and, when he was able, Coran, twirling his moustache and telling her stories about the world she has yet to see.

She remembers how, lately, her father has been talking with Coran over the phone about something he refuses to tell her about. She remembers how he came back late at night tired and worn out in a way she had not seen since her mother’s death, how he increased her self defence training without telling her why, how distracted he had been the following months. How grave looking people had arrived for serious talks that lasted late into the night at their home and how her father had spent more and more nights outside until one day, he didn’t come back at all.

As she sits through the funeral, dressed in black amidst the sea of mourners, Allura recalls and remembers, because now that her father is dead memories are all she has left of him.

She sobs her heart out during the funeral, because she is young and alone and the grief of losing her last living relative is still too much to bear. But afterwards, while lawyers discuss her father’s will and where she is to go after (she refuses to leave her own home, even if it’s now too large and lonely to be in), she is dry eyed and researching legislature with the determination and coolness of a captain looking up information to use in the battlefield.

(She has to stay strong. She has to, because it is what she has promised her father. To stay strong in the face of adversary was one of their sayings, and isn’t death taking her loved ones - her father - the strongest adversary yet? And so even if Allura knows this is not what her father meant, even if Coran looks at her with a worried look in his eye that is almost too hard to bear and everyone else treats her like a child too dumb to understand, she will not cry. Instead, she will bottle up everything, lock her emotions away behind lock and key until they no longer exist and deal with what is in front of her.

Living would be too hard otherwise.)

Coran helps her, even if he shoots her worried looks that she ignores. He’s her uncle, although Allura has stopped calling him that since they decided that they were equals. He’s old, around her father’s age, but despite the wrinkles showing in the corner of his eyes he is still hale and hearty, thriving like a plant in the sun and gifted with the knowledge that comes from years of travel. He’d arrived three days after he got her call, orange hair and moustache askew and drenched right down to his bones as if he’d rushed straight over without stopping to eat, sleep or rest. He’d held her while they grieved over her father, sat right beside her during the funeral looking extraordinarily dapper in his black suit and blowing his nose with loud goose-like honks, and now he lends her a hand in helping her sort out the estate and the will and everything else.

He is quiet and respectful and warm in a way no one else is and Allura, not for the first time and definitely not for the last time (please never let there be a last time), is infinitely grateful for his support.

—–

The affair of the Will is a private procedure, sombre and quiet. Her father had been very through in his will - Allura is named the successor of his estate and everything else he had owned, and Coran is now her legal guardian. She is also given the family heirloom - a necklace of gold inlaid with a beautiful triangular blue gem that sparkles in the light that her father had worn at all times, now hers to care for. Coran’s gift, in contrast, is made of smooth dark wood, a sharp jagged piece shaped like an explosion of light the size of Coran’s palm. It looks vaguely exotic, appropriate for a man who travels as much as he talks and devours knowledge like food. Coran smiles, sorrow and nostalgia shining through like a lamp in the dark, and throughout the hearing Allura can see him fiddling with the piece, twisting it in his hand before slipping it into his pocket.

Things aren’t as smooth during the matters of the estate.

A man approaches during the proceedings. He is a tall, broad man dressed in a rich purple suit so dark it was almost black, introducing himself as a CEO from Galra corporations and offering false sympathies with an insincere tongue. Allura does not remember his name, but she does remember how cold and stiff his hands had been as he offered her a handshake, as if he weren’t as used to comforting gestures as he is with words. There had been an assessive look in his eyes as he had looked at her, as if she were a piece of meat to be turned into sumptuous dishes and devoured, and Allura had been more than glad when Coran intervened with bright smiles that didn’t match the warning in his eyes to lead the CEO to the waiting room. He shoots similar looks at the mansion as he had done to her, a gaze that calculates how much everything is worth, and Allura keeps that in mind as they discuss matters of the estate and business.

As it turns out, the Galra Corporations has stakes on everything her father had owned, and they plan to take all of it once he is dead, despite her father’s will stating that Allura inherits everything once he has passed and that she is still alive. This will not do. They fight long and hard, but in the end, they are still two grieving people with a smattering of loyal personnel fighting against a large company CEO with multiple lawyers at their disposal.

They lose the trial.

It isn’t as bad as it could have been - they manage to keep the money, and the mansion has never been an option. But the business her father had created and poured his blood, sweat and tears into, the company he had defended against the Galra until the bitter end - all Allura has is a share of the company. Everything else is to be run by the Galra Corp, and all her father’s hard work has come to naught.

Allura understands the reasoning behind the Judge’s ruling. She is too young and inexperienced to run her father’s company, and Coran does not have the appropriate qualifications to behave as the boss of the company. If they were in charge, there is a very high possibility that they would have run the place to the ground. Galra Corporations, on the other hand, have people capable of being the boss and the ability to expand the company if so desired, and out of concern for the wellbeings of hundreds of people working with and for her father’s business, the Judge has ruled them fit to take the company and, by extension, a large part of the family inheritance.

This does not prevent the result from stinging any less.

The opposition smirks, and Allura is reminded of hyenas, bellies filled but hungry for more. Her team gathers their belongings and head for the door, and Allura remembers to thank them for their time and efforts. She is one of the last to leave, and she quickly gathers her items, head bent low to hide her expression as she attempts to regroup herself. Coran is waiting outside, and it would not do to dawdle.

“My condolences for your loss.” the voice reaches her ears in a smooth tenor, and it takes longer than it should have for Allura to realise that she is being spoken to. She turns to see a tall slim man standing a few feet behind her, watching her with unreadable eyes. He looks hauntingly familiar, dapper in a suit, and it takes a few seconds for Allura to recall where she has seen him. It is one of the men who has been visiting her father’s office and home, late in the night when there is no one but her to see their comings and goings.

She does not know his name. She is fairly sure that he does not know hers either, before the trail begins. This is the first time they are meeting. Why, then, is he here?

She gives a small nod, a sharp jerk of her head that acknowledges his words, and the man takes it as an invitation to continue the conversation. “We met for only a few months, but Alfor was a good man. He’ll be sorely missed.”

Allura is surprised at the rush of grief and anger that washes over her at those words. She tries to squash it down, and mostly succeeds - It would be unbecoming to break down like this in public, especially in front of the opposition. The man sounds sincere, but he is one of the people who had helped to win the trail, and he has no right to say that.

“Yes,” She says, only mildly strangled, and she blinks rapidly in an effort to keep tears from welling up. “Yes, he was. One of the best.” Allura takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and forcing her emotions back, and when she lets out her breath and opens her eyes her gaze is hard and clear, staring up into the man’s dark eyes with the cool toughness of diamond. When she speaks again her tone is polite, belying steel. “I apologise for my curtness, but do you need anything? My uncle is waiting for me.”

He opens his mouth and pauses. Allura continues packing as he stays silent, but it’s not intimidating - it’s an awkward silence, desperate and lost as if he is thinking a million things at once but doesn’t know how to say them. He looks around, and Allura is suddenly very aware that they are both the only people in the room.

When the man speaks again, Allura is almost done the packing. “My colleagues are waiting for me too,” he says cheerily, but his eyes are serious. He walks towards her, and Allura’s hands tense as he smiles and says. “Look, I just need to say something.”

She expects taunts or threats. She does not expect him to lean over and whisper “What your father was researching was dangerous. Don’t end up like him, Miss Altea.”

Allura pauses, brain going blank.

“Excuse me?” Allura smiles incredulously, certain she must have misheard, but the man doesn’t say anything, merely walking past her towards the door. Allura turns, hand reaching out to grasp his shoulder and ask again when the door opens.

“Allura?” Coran’s head pops in, a lock of orange hair falling over his eyes. His eyes dim as he catches sight of the man, but his smile brightens when he catches sight of his niece. He walks in jauntily as the man strides confidently towards the exit, but as they walk past each other down the narrow pathway their shoulders bump, causing Coran to stumble a step. “Whoops! Sorry.”

The man gives a nod at Coran’s apology. Coran frowns at the lack of apology as the man walks past with the confidence of a prince, out towards his comrades. The moment the man is out of the room, Coran turns and hurries over to Allura. “Princess!” He says, reverting to the nickname that they had given each other when Allura had a royal Queen phase that she still hasn’t quite grown out of. He grabs her gently on the shoulder, a worried look on her face, and Allura lets him hover as she mulls over the man’s words. “Are you alright?”

“… yes.” She says, but it is distant, as if she’s too distracted to answer truthfully. She stares thoughtfully at the door, the frown on her face deepening even deeper. “Yes, I am quite alright, Coran.”

“That’s good.” Coran relaxes, but only marginally. Even though the man is no longer present, he scowls at the door as if wishing multiple poxes on the man. “What did he say? If it was something like gloating or taking a piss at you because we lost -”

“No, Coran, nothing of the sort, really!” Allura reassures him, taking his hands in her own. Coran is rarely this frazzled, and she attempts a smile to reassure him but it feels unnatural on her face and Coran only frowns harder. “Just …” She searches for the words that would not further aggravate Coran. “He was just sharing his condolences about Father and reassuring me about the company, really.” She manages, and when she attempts a smile again it feels more natural on her face this time. “Nothing to worry about!”

Coran looks unconvinced, but he lets the subject drop as Allura makes a show of gathering the few papers that are left into a neat pile and into her briefcase. Coran, ever the gentleman, twitches his hand towards the briefcase in question. Allura shakes her head (the heaviness of the bag makes her feel grounded, and besides, Coran is already carrying his own briefcase) and his hand drops, and together, the two make their way out of the building and towards the restaurant as Allura does her best to lighten the mood.

By the time they reach the joint, Coran is smiling and joining in with her quips like before, but even as Allura jokes and laughs back at him the man’s words sticks to the back of her mind like gum at the bottom of a chair stirring up feelings of unease in the back of her mind.

———

In the past two weeks, there have been three break ins into the house. They’re all small time robbers, all claiming to be looking for a quick buck and cursing the alarm system that caught them, yet Allura cannot help but notice that they all lead to her father’s study - odd, as all it contained were records of his work instead of cash or precious jewels. The man’s words running through her mind, she asks Coran for the keys and searches the room herself, hunting for anything that could have been linked to the break ins.

Papers, papers everywhere, littering the room like solid snow, but after hours of searching all she has to show for her searches is a smooth wooden box the size of an art folio, hidden amongst the recesses of her father’s large table like an egg in a nest. It’s a rich dark brown in a way that exudes the solidness of ancient yews that last for eternity, an elaborately carved replica of space with looping curls of planets and sharp jags like starbursts. It has no keyholes, and Allura spends an hour pressing carefully against the stars in the hopes of finding a hidden switch before discovering a missing piece in the artwork, a deep groove in the smooth wood that is felt more than seen.

It’s hidden between a wisp of cloud and a falling star, the indented shape of an explosion of light, sharp and forever reaching outwards. The shape is very, very familiar.

Allura grabs the box with both hands and goes to find Coran.

——-

The box opens once the piece Coran holds slips into place, opening with the silence of a tomb. Inside the box lies a blue folder containing a bundle of papers and another small box made of metal, one that Allura remembers giving to her father when she was young for father’s day. Coran fiddles with the metal box at the same time Allura grabs the folder, flipping through the multiple pages at lightning speed as she skims the pages, like a reader impatiently trying to get to the ending of the book. She frowns - the elegant cramped script is definitely her father’s, but the information is coded, words and numbers like some kind of internet lingo from the dark web.

“Coran,” She calls, tilting her head as she tries to make sense of the words. “What do you think this means?”

“Eh?” Coran walks closer to see, peering over her shoulders at the papers. His eyebrows go up, and Allura notices how his eyes go from surprised happiness to nostalgic sorrow within the span of a few seconds. “Why, that’s the code your father and I used back in the old days! I had no idea he was still using it.” He takes the folder from Allura and hands the tin over to her in exchange, and he flips through it as Allura holds the tin in her hands, muttering to himself as he does so.

Allura would love nothing more than to listen (Coran never really talks about his childhood, just about his travels, and she is curious to listen to what they were like as teenagers), but she can’t make out what Coran is muttering underneath his breath, and it is rude to eavesdrop, so instead she tilts her head and examines the metal box in her hand.

There’s a combination lock on the box. A memory flashes in Allura’s mind, a glance of old film that fleets and fades. Almost in a reverie, she twists the numbers, presses the button…. And the lock snaps open with a small ping that reverberates in the air before fading away.

Allura smiles faintly, bittersweet sentimentality seeping into her mind like stains of tea. Even now, after all these years, her father still uses his wedding anniversary as a password.

Delicately, she opens the box. Inside, nestled in a velvet cloth that’s the color of space, is a small, sleek silver thumb drive the size of her thumb. Brows furrowing, Allura plucks the thumb drive out of its box just as Coran swears in what sounds like Finnish. Allura turns her head, contents of the box momentarily forgotten.

Coran’s swearing has tiers, sorted in a muddled, constantly shifting algorithm of languages that he has absorbed through osmosis over the years. If Coran is swearing in Scandinavian, it must mean something very shocking has happened.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, worried. She takes a step closer; another, and Coran starts as if he has just remembered that he was not the only one in the room. “Coran,” she asks, voice rising a little in trepidation, “what did my father write?”

“Ah.” Coran’s face looks conflicted, as if he doesn’t know what expression, what mask, to pull on to put Allura at ease. He looks as if he’s about to try a smile, mustache twitching, but when he sees the expression on Allura’s face he stops. His gaze turns serious. He gestures towards the papers, a short and sharp tap to the papers, drawing a deep, fortifying breath. “You’re not going to like this, Princess.”

Allura takes a breath, steels herself. The worst has already happened, and she can take a little more bad news. “Tell me anyway.”

Nestled in her hand, the thumb drive feels like lead.

——-

Every company had some skeletons in the closet no matter how benevolent they were, and her father’s company is no exception. However, Galra corporations doesn’t just have a few - they have several, all shoved into the closet at the back in an attempt to hide, mounds of bones and rotting flesh hidden in the dark. They might show themselves as a company that stands at the pinnacle of science, be it medical, chemical or otherwise, pioneering the unknown for the benefit of others and extending a helping hand to those who have the same goals, but Allura now knows that it is nothing but an illusion. Behind the silver words and gilded purple logo is a company covered in bloodshed and darkness, lounging on a throne of bones disguised to look like gold, enticing others to draw near without realising the trap.

Alfor had noticed the darkness, searched for the skeletons, found some of the bleached bones in the darkness… and had taken them to reveal to the public. Allura doesn’t know what exactly her father has found, but whatever it is, he has entrusted it to them. The key he had left to Coran, the messages in an old code only two people knew, the box she knew the password to. Those were not coincidences, and the fact that her father has left them with a mission that took his life rests heavy on Allura’s shoulders, a crown she feels too young and inexperienced to wear.

The thumb drive contains the information they would surely need to even have the chance to take down Galra Company, one that is protected by a password they do not know. Allura is sure that even if they did, it wouldn’t matter - there is definitely more than one password, and she wouldn’t put it past her father for ensuring that the information is coded too, preventing anybody from understanding it unless they knew the right sequence to crack it. Her father is - was - nothing if not thorough in ensuring that his things were kept safe - even if he failed to succeed in guarding himself at the end.

Allura keeps the original copy with her at all times, hidden with her necklace under her shirt like a lucky charm. Coran is already making copies of the data, separate backups that are kept in secret locations. If the original copy is stolen or destroyed, they have the backups to rely on, and if they die in the attempt to unravel the truth, the information will be their legacy for others to complete.

The two of them, as they are, are too weak to accomplish much. To fight this battle, they would need allies.

Her father’s notes had contained some names - the Holts are prevalent amongst them. Samuel Holt had worked as a full-time member in the Galra Corporation’s science division. Working alongside him as interns were his son Matthew Holt and Matthew’s classmate, Takeshi Shirogane.

A quick search reveals them to be missing. A year ago, they had set out to work and never come back. The noise at the time had been loud, many speculations made without proof, but like all incidents, it has faded into the background, present only to those who search.

At the time, Allura had dismissed the incident from her mind, concerned only with exams. Now, she wonders if there is more to the disappearance than she had thought.

——-

It takes only a few hours for Allura to learn their address. She looks up the newspapers too, an attempt to refresh her memory on the incident. Their bright smiles beam out of a photo in the papers amongst a multitude of articles, the small print writing about how the trio went to work one day and never came back. It is a disappointingly small article beside an equally tiny article about an increase in disappearances amongst the homeless, and Allura wonders if the newspaper has been pressured to minimize exposure by Galra Corporations.

The rest of their family, a mother and daughter that share the same hair as the other two. Their grief is caught on camera for the whole world to see, and Allura wonders if even now, they are still waiting for them to come back.

She wouldn’t be surprised if they were. Even after her mother died, her father has never remarried. For them, it has been only a year - it is extremely possible that they are still in mourning.

The people originally involved in the code might have disappeared, but the people that remain of their family might know something about it. It takes little time to find the Holt’s address, and soon Allura and Coran are on the move. They split up halfway there - Coran heads off to his contacts to find a trustworthy hacker, while Allura continues towards the Holt’s address. The Holt’s might not trust a grown man, after their past experience with reporters, but if her father’s notes are accurate, they might trust a young woman searching for the last few people her father had contacted.

The woman who greets Allura looks tired to the bone, worn out and faded like an old photograph. She attempts to close the door on them at first, but through some miracle, Allura manages to convince her that she isn’t a reporter and to give her a chance - Much like they had hoped, Allura’s father had been over long enough for Mrs Holt to recognize his features in Allura’s own.

Mrs Holt is clearly tired. Dark bags lines her eyes, and she is still mourning over the loss of half her family. But her eyes are alert and filled with strength as she listens to Allura’s story over steaming mugs of tea.

“I’m sorry.” She says when they’re done. The mugs of tea lie cold on the table, undrunk. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I knew Sam and Max were up to something, but they never told me anything about it - just that it would help people in need. They’re always like that.” Her eyes well up in tears, and Allura silently pushes the box of tissues on the table towards her, eyes shining with understanding sympathy. “I understand you want to find out what your father has been working on, and I would like to help, but I was never told anything about a password, and I don’t know how to crack codes.” Her voice quietens, full of grief and guilt, and her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Allura pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. Mrs Holt looks fragile, worn down and cracked despite a seemingly strong base, and Allura does not want to deal a blow that could shatter.

“It’s ok,” is what she chooses to say, as soothingly as she can. Reaching forward, Allura slowly pats her on the hand, giving Mrs Holt time to move away if she wishes to. She merely stays, and Allura holds her hands in what she hopes is a comforting manner. “It’s ok.” She repeats, pushing all the conviction she has into her words while hiding her disappointment at the lack of knowledge gained. That is not what Mrs Holt needs to hear right now. “It’s alright. I merely wanted to know - it’s ok…”

Coming here had been a mistake. No matter Allura’s intentions, she has opened up old wounds in a grieving mother. After ensuring that Mrs Holt was emotionally stable, Allura prepares to take her leave. She goes to the door, but before she can reach the handle, Mrs Holt calls her back.

She looks conflicted, but after looking at Allura’s face a couple of seconds, the conflict fades and comes into a decision - although what she’s decided, Allura does not know.

“I can’t help you,” She says, looking determinedly at Allura. “I can’t help you, but maybe my daughter can. She knows more about codes than I do.” She places a piece of paper into Allura’s hand. Allura glances at it - it’s an address, written in small letters. She smiles, warm but fragile. “Go there. Tell her that Colleen Holt sent you and that I expect her to be back for lunch on Monday. You’re welcome as well, Allura.”

‘I entrust my daughter to you’. The words remain unspoken, but it weighs on Allura’s shoulders like stones, an addition that reminds her of the many responsibilities she already has to bear. Allura stares at the paper in her hand for a second, momentarily overcome with hope. She folds her hand delicately around the paper as if it were the finest gem, encloses it delicately in her fist and hides it away from the world.

Allura looks up, and smiles. “Thank you,” Allura says, and despite the newfound weight, she means what she says.

——–

She meets up with Coran for dinner at the cafe near the train station. He brings with him four mice in a cage - they’re snoozing, all different shades of fur, and Allura stares at them in astonishment as Coran sets the cage gently down on a chair.

“ New pets!” he announces, sliding into a chair himself. He grins at her, mustache twitching upwards in sync with his lips. “Very clever little buggers. They used to be in a circus, but the circus disbanded and left my friend in charge of them - only he couldn’t keep them. Had to take care of them in exchange for a hacker’s address, but they’re very trustworthy!” He looks at her expectantly. “How did things at your end go?”

Allura shares her story while they eat. She holds out the piece of paper to Coran, and he examines the paper. His eyebrows rise in surprise, and he shuffles in his pocket, pulling out a scrap of paper. He compares them, eyebrows rising even higher. “Strange,” he says, pulling thoughtfully at his mustache.

“How so?”

“This is the same address as I had for that hacker I mentioned,” Coran explains, leaning forwards. “His name should be Pidge Gunderson, but…”

“The daughter’s name is Katie Holt.” Allura finishes, mind connecting the dots. She frowns. Did they live together? Allura wonders if Colleen Holt would allow her daughter to live with a stranger. Probably not.

“Something is going on here,” she says decisively, standing up. She gestures to one of the waiters for the check. “Let’s find out.”

———

As it turns out, both hacker and daughter are the same. She looks like the ghost of Matt Holt, long hair cut short and hazel eyes framed in round glasses, but the suspicious glare she shoots at Allura and Coran is the complete opposite of the smile her brother wore in the pictures.

In sharp contrast to the clean coziness of the Holt’s house, Pidge is staying in a small shack that looks more like a hovel than an apartment. She seems skeptical at first, but a mention of her mother and a view of the note is all it takes to convince her. With a scratch of her head and a sigh, the hacker lets them into her home.

Inside, it is dingy and small, cluttered with wires and computer pieces everywhere. There’s a room opposite the kitchen that is filled with screens and monitors that glint in the dark. In a gesture similar to her mother, Pidge produces mugs of tea from the kitchen. She plonks it down on the table amidst the clutter of half disassembled machinery, and the strong, flowery brew wafts towards Allura’s nose. Gently, she nurses the cup, and between sips of tea, they tell their story.

Allura lays out the terms - a job that relates to her personally and pays well, something that would be attractive to someone living in such mess, in such circumstances. Pidge listens in silence, saying nothing. When they finish their tale, she remains crouched on the chair like a gremlin, sipping her own mug of tea as she thinks.

It takes half a mug before Pidge comes to a decision.

“I get to find the assholes behind my brother and dad’s disappearance and I get paid to do it?” Pidge says at last, glasses glinting in the sunlight. She grins, slow and vicious, a malevolent Cheshire. “Count me in.”

——–

Pidge is a phenomenal hacker. It takes her a few days to figure out the password, providing them some data with a mention of using a self-made hacking bot. There is a sequence of zeros and ones, a code that remains as mysterious to Allura as a skirt is to Pidge, but Pidge promises that she can help decipher the data.

She has also, with their permission, set up contingencies for the backups Coran has made. If they’ve been missing for a week, the data is released into the internet in the form of a game for anyone to solve. Once something is released on the internet, nothing can take it back, and Allura understands that the difficulty would attract people to work until they crack the code in an attempt to beat the game.

Allura remembers the disappearance, wonders if this was why she chose such a method. Whatever the reason, it is a good method of action, and she approves.

Pidge is a phenomenal hacker, but she is also a human who requires sleep. Seeing Pidge’s disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, clothes rumpled as if she hasn’t slept in days, Allura tries to persuade her to take a nap before doing anything else. It takes a surprisingly short time before Pidge is napping on one of the couches, sprawled underneath a blanket. Saliva drools out of her mouth as she snores; her face looks young without its usual scowl. Not for the first time, Allura feels the weight of Colleen Holt’s words weighing down on her shoulders.

Allura makes a note to ask Pidge to stay at the mansion while they’re working together - It would be easier on both of them if they stayed in the same place. Gently, she pats the mice and turns to leave, shrugging on her jacket as she prepares to head out for her daily jog.

While Pidge has been working on cracking the code, both Allura and Coran have been searching the city. Two pairs of eyes are not enough to cover the whole of the city, however, and so Allura and Coran have taken to asking people to help.

Allura’s jogging routine goes down the streets, through the park, past the small cookie shop that’s a few yards beside the bridge and back again. Halfway through the park, a boy with bright blue eyes joins her, long legs easily keeping up with her leisurely pace. Allura shoots a glance at him, and he grins at her, a flash of white teeth that’s full of goofy charm.

“Hey, beautiful! You’re so hot your steps still have smoke rising from the ground,” he informs her cheerily, a cheesy pickup line that leaves Allura rolling her eyes and muffling a snort.

The first time Lance had tried those lines on her, Allura had thought he had been serious, a wannabe casanova with little thought of the future. Now, however, she knows that while he does have a terrible love for pickup lines, he is the opposite of the men who try to pick ladies up. There is a very large space between them whenever Lance uses a pickup line, and it’s obvious that it was meant as a compliment and nothing more.

The constant repetition is obnoxious, but Lance wouldn’t be Lance without them. Besides, he would - and has - stop if she tells him to, and Allura knows she can flip him over before he can lay a hand on her. She has nothing to fear from him.

“Thank you, Lance.” She grins, feet moving rhythmically forwards. “Good evening to you too. Has anything strange been going on lately?”

“Nope, nothing much,” the boy says easily. He flashes a grin at her, moving a little closer and lowering his volume. Allura appreciates it - the park is empty, but you never know. “There have been rumors of the homeless going missing, and Granny Cosmos is finally getting her dentures done, but as for who you’re looking for -” he shrugs, a fluid movement that rises and shifts into the movement of his shoulders as he runs. “There’s not much on my end.”

Allura digests the information, turning the words around in her head. “Not much?” she asks, shooting Lance a questioning look.

“Not much.” He confirms, beaming. Jogging ahead of her, Lance twists around like a skater on ice and shoots her two thumbs up, jogging backward. Allura wonders if he notices the lamp post a few meters behind him. “But not nothing! We’re almost at the cafe now - Hunk can help me fill you in once he’s on break.”

Hope rises within Allura, wings spreading like a bird about to fly. This quickly turns into amusement when Lance jogs right into the lamp post - as it turns out, he hadn’t noticed it after all. As she tends to the bump on Lance’s head - a small bruise which will fade in a couple of days - Allura localizes her emotions, forcing the hope back into its cage and locking the door. There have been many false hopes in the past weeks, false leads that were dead ends, and Allura knows that keeping her hopes low will be best in case this is one of them.

Bump tended to with minimal flirtations and troubles, they resume jogging. If Allura’s pace increases from a steady bass into a rhythmic tempo, Lance says nothing about it, chattering on about other things instead.

———

By the time they reach the cafe, Allura is, despite herself, bursting with hidden anticipation.

It’s a small cafe, tucked away beside a bookshop and a hat store on the corner of the street. It’s decorated in warm colors, a large sign on top saying The Hideout’ in large simple letters, and as always it is open. The Hideout is like an oyster in the deep sea bed that hides a pearl of immense value - it’s hidden away in the depth of the streets amongst the other shops, but the food they make is absolutely gorgeous. With its delicious food and affordable prices, the cafe has gathered quite the reputation amongst these parts as one of the unofficially best places to eat.

As the grandson of the owner, Hunk has been learning the recipes since he could hold a knife. Lance a few steps behind her, Allura opens the door and steps inside, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she does so.

The smell is heavenly as always. A savory mix of spices and sweets - nutmeg, thyme, basil, too many to count - fill the room, and Allura feels a smile forming on her face. The inside is small but cozy, with warm blue walls and tables and comfortable chairs. There’re few people today, and Shay, one of the waitresses, waves at them from behind the counter and gestures at them to take a seat. Allura grabs a window seat as Lance strides up to the counter, and he takes the opposite seat when he returns with a plateful of assorted cookies.

There’s a note on the plate that contains Hunk’s careful handwriting. It says the cookies are free of charge. Taking a white rabbit cookie, Lance slides the plate in the middle of the table, an unspoken offer of sharing. Taking a biscuit shaped like a clam, Allura bites into it, closing her eyes in bliss as rich chocolate fills her mouth. Not for the first time, Allura wonders if Hunk would be angry if she asks for the recipes (he is normally a mellow person, but he becomes extremely meticulous when it comes to cooking). It probably isn’t possible since it’s a store recipe, but…

She resolves to ask when they’ve known each other for a couple of years. It has only been a few weeks since Coran has introduced them to each other, and they’re still feeling each other out, in their own ways. Asking such a sensitive question now would probably be a bad idea.

Lance chatters as they wait, about ordinary things that range from his family to his pet cat. Allura provides returning banter while she munches on the biscuits and sips from her waterbottle, and they’re halfway through the biscuit and debating the pros and cons of pineapple on pizza before Hunk appears, holding a muffin in one hand.

“Hey, Allura!” Hunk greets her enthusiastically upon reaching them. He slides into the bench beside Lance and presents the cupcake to her, encouraging her to take it. “Does this taste like banana? Please tell me this tastes like banana because I’ve been trying to get this recipe right for a couple of times now and I have no idea if it’s good - oh right, Lance! Here’s yours.” Like a baking magician, Hunk pulls another muffin out of nowhere like a magician with a coin and offers it to Lance,

The muffins look squashed, with a large slice of banana poking out at the top. At Hunk’s expectant look, Allura and Lance take the muffin from his hands, Allura glancing curiously at hers before taking a bite.

She almost drops the muffin. It’s hot on her tongue, freshly baked, but the flavor of fresh banana’s spread across her mouth like ripples in water, mixed with splashes of vanilla. The muffin is smooth, breaking apart easily as she chews, and the steaming hot banana slices decorating the top breaks apart easily and enhance the flavor of banana in her mouth, contrasting the gentle taste of vanilla. Before she realizes it, Allura has downed half the muffin.

Hunk looks at them expectantly. “Well?” He asks anxiously, twisting a hand in his apron. “What do you think?”

“Too much banana,” Lance announces as Allura continues to dig in. He takes another bite and chews thoughtfully. “Yep, too much banana. Can barely taste the vanilla.”

Hunk’s shoulders droop when Allura nods in agreement. “Yeah, I thought so. Guess I’ll add more vanilla extract next time.”

“Dude, how about chocolate chips?” Lance finishes the muffin, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “Chocolate chip and bananas are pretty good. Or Blueberry!” Lance grins and elbows Hunk gently in the side. “Imagine all that fruity goodness, mmm.”

“I don’t know.” Hunk says hesitantly, resting his elbows on the table. “Blueberries might make it too sweet, and we don’t have any in the fridge. But we’ve got raspberry.” Hunk gave a considering hum, eyes distant. “And there’s some yoghurt in the fridge that’s gonna expire soon…”

“Wait wait wait wait.” Lance leans forwards, surprise crossing his face.Across the table, mouth stuffed full with muffin, Allura raises her eyebrows in solidarity as Lance, in a surprising show of flexibility, twists across to face Hunk. “Raspberry Yoghurt? Can that even be used in muffins? Won’t the heat make the yoghurt go sour or something?”

“Well, it’s not like we’d be heating up pure yogurt, we’d be heating up the batter mixture that’s got the yogurt mixed into it.” Hunk gives a one shoulder shrug. “And yeah, it can. I made the mixture in middle school once, it was pretty simple. The fire alarm rang before they were finished, though.” Lance still looks befuddled, and Hunk raises an eyebrow. “That fire evacuation in third year, remember? The day where Mr Hazelman sent you to detention because you picked a fight with Rowan O’Hara? That one.”

The rays of understanding clear up the fog of miscomprehension on Lance’s face. “Ohh, that fire evacuation!” The expression quickly turned into a scowl. “Rowan was totally asking for it - he tried to slide a bug down Melissa’s shirt. What’s that got to do with yogurt cookies?”

“Well.” Hunk grins and settles back into the bench. “I was in baking class-”

“Boys!” Allura interjects, subtly brushing the muffin away from her fingers the best she can. They both turn to face her, momentarily nonplussed as if they’ve forgotten that she was there. A part of her is interested in how a fire leads to yogurt cookies, but it’s overpowered by impatience for new information. At this rate, Hunk’s break will be over before they can even approach the subject. She smiles and raises an eyebrow. “As much as I’d live to hear about your middle school escapades and eat more delicious muffins, I do believe that we have more important measures to discuss..?”

“Oh, right! Sorry, kinda forgot.” Allura doesn’t miss the hesitant glance he casts towards Lance, as if the story might trouble him.“Alright, this is going to take a bit long, but do you know about Soup Sunday?”

Allura nods. Back before Hunk had been born and Coran a wee boy, Hunk’s grandmother had been homeless before getting a job at a sympathetic dining store. Her experiences had translated into Soup Sunday. Every fortnight, the cafe throws all its leftovers into a delicious mashup of stew and other hearty dishes and serves it to the poor and homeless, for anything they can scrap up. It’s a win-win situation - the less fortunate get a delicious free meal that lasts until the shop closes at the price of a song or help in the kitchen, while the cafe gets to tests out new recipes, not waste food and earn favors amongst many.

It’s a good tradition, she feels. “Did something happen this Soup Sunday?”

“Well, yeah.” Hunk scratches his head. He smiles, but it’s right around the edges, worry flickering in his eyes like a candle in the wind. “Coran gave me the idea, actually - asking the homeless if they knew anything. Nobody really notices them, you know? So nobody really takes note of what’s said around them, like janitors. Lance and I asked them if they had any news. And they did.” Hunk’s face darkens, gray clouds of discomfort and anger flickering across his face. “Turns out a lot of them are going missing - which I thought meant getting arrested or getting a new job type of going missing because that’s normally what happens, but no - they’re getting snatched off the streets. Dozens of people going missing, and nobody knows or cares. The only reason we know is that Lance and I asked.”

Allura’s eyes go wide, chills running down her spine. “That’s horrible! What about the police?”

“The police? Since when have they done anything for us?” Lance scoffs, leaning backward. He looks discontent, a small crack in the smooth smile he wears. “They don’t do anything to help people of color like us, it’s not like they’re going to do anything to help homeless people.”

Allura frowns. She… can’t really argue with that. The police in her neighborhood were nice, upstanding citizens that had a code of justice and equality she couldn’t help but admire, but she knows that the life she leads is a privileged one. Other neighborhoods weren’t as lucky, and from the dark look on Lance and Hunk’s face, as if they were being shown clips of unwanted memories, it is evident that they had not had the same fortune as she had when it came to the police.

Still, for every person who doesn’t care, there is one who does. She has no authority to do anything, nor Hunk or Lance - high school students, all of them, not even old enough to vote - but Allura is sure that there will be at least someone in authority who does and will try to help. Telling the police would at least bring light to the situation.

Which is why Allura clasps her hands together and says, “Well, we should still inform them anyway. It might do nothing, but it never hurts to try. And if not…” her eyes flash with determination. “We’ll make them care.”

“Granny’s on it.” Hunk nods towards the door behind the counter. Allura knows it leads to the kitchen. “She’s planning to hold a talk with Nyma and Rollo tomorrow, I’m sure she’ll have something you can help with.”

“I’ll join her when I have the chance.” Allura decides. Her mind blazes with possibilities - an article, maybe? Pidge could help her figure out how to signal boost it. But for now… She frowns. “How does this relate to the information, however?”

This time, Lance answers, sparkles in his eyes. “The Champion.”

Allura frowns. “The Champion?”

“The Champion.” Hunk confirms. He leans forwards, lowering his voice like a spy exchanging information. “Remember that piece about homeless people going missing? Well, someone’s rescuing them. They don’t know his name, so they call him Champion - because he keeps winning. This guy I asked during Soup Sunday was one of the people who got caught a few days ago. Bundled into an unmarked van with some others. He thought he was a goner until some guy in a black hoodie and a prosthetic arm popped out to help - took them down like hya!” Hunk mimes a chop. “Helped them get away. So they’re still going missing, but not as many as there used to be before this happened.”

Allura nods, not quite seeing the connection. “And…?”

Lance grins, smile curling like a cat with cream. “While they were caught, the man heard them talking about handing them over to Galra corp. And Champion?” He leans forward in a whisper. “His arm - it looks like Galra Corp. tech.”

Allura’s eyes go wide. She leans back, silently digesting the information.

The Holt’s disappearance, the snatched people, the man who saved them… was this what her father was researching before he was murdered? Almost involuntarily, Allura’s mind flashes back to the news article of missing people and her father’s research. Whatever was going on, it seems as if Galra Corporations were behind it.

Something sinks in her gut, cold and hard. This is more dangerous than she thought.

But why…?

Maybe….

Quietly, like a sun rising in the sky, an idea takes form in Allura’s mind. She leans forwards.

“Hunk. Does the person you asked still remember the location?”

Hunk blinks, taken aback by the sudden question. “What? Yeah, probably.” A look of suspicion crosses his face. “Why?”

Allura grins. Lance and Hunk shrink back in their seat. “I would like to meet this Champion.”

This is no longer about her father’s death, or his last legacy. The situation has changed now, with his information. This is about bringing justice to those who have been wrong, and retribution to those who have wronged them.

——-

The information Pidge has extracted from one of the many files confirms Allura’s theory - research papers worth of illegal human testing, stolen from the Galra Corporations database. There is little indication of what they have been taken for, but signs point to the medical division. Galra Corporations Medical Division has made leaps and bounds of progress under Hagar’s supervision, and Allura wonders if she is behind this operation.

Pidge has, at her mother’s wheedling and Allura’s behest, taken up residency in one of the mansion’s many rooms, a method that makes contact and information extraction easier. Said room is now filled with wires and screens, monitors humming quietly in the background as she works on the code. It has been 12 days, and despite the short time period she has decoded some of the documents - although more often than not at the cost of her eating schedule.

It is originally for this reason that Allura invites Hunk and Lance to her house. At first, it was merely consultation on simple dishes that could be made, but soon she invites Hunk to her house, Lance in tow.

Hunk falls in love with the kitchen at first sight. Both Allura and Lance exchange silent fistbumps as Hunk flits around the kitchen like a hummingbird in a garden of flowers, sparkles in his eyes as he flies at Mach speed to inspect every utensil and cabinet. While Hunk works in the kitchen, Lance hangs in the gaming room listening to Coran’s tales or practicing with his nerf gun. When they come across Pidge, they take to her like a duck to water. Hunk and Pidge share the same intellectual mindset and can often be found discussing scientific theories or working on something together in her workshop, with occasional input from their beta-tester Lance.

The three make a good team, and when Allura sees Lance posing in aluminum foil armor while Pidge and Hunk laugh their butts off in the living room, Coran shaking his head with a grin that resembles Alfor, she is glad that she has brought them together.

———

It takes two Soup Sundays and all five of them working themselves to the bone interviewing people, but in the end, they gather enough information to create a map of the city with spots where the Champion had appeared. It’s an oddly wide range, but there is a pattern which falls back to a small area around abandoned buildings.

From there, Allura devises a plan. It is a simple plan - they dress incognito and search the area for any information on the Champion. Best case scenario, they find him and they decide to work together. Worst case scenario, they get attacked and killed by unsavory people and robbed for all they have. Allura is fairly sure that that won’t be the case, however.

Coran, on the other hand, isn’t so sure.

They argue. Lance and Hunk hide in Pidge’s room while they yell and fight, coming out only after the yelling has stopped.

In the end, they arrive at a compromise - they travel in twos, and they have until evening to search. If they don’t call or come back by ten, the others are to call the police and direct them to to the location of the GPS sewn inside their shirts.

It’s a stifling set of conditions, almost overprotective, but Allura understands. Coran has already lost someone dear to him. He does not plan on losing another, and if Allura had been in the same position, she would have done the same.

As Coran and Lance go off to another room discussing what they need for the operation, Allura looks at the map. The spot they chose is circled in bright red marker - a series of buildings in the seedier part of town, abandoned and left to house squatters and other people. She wonders if he is there, what type of person he was.

She wonders if the Champion knows what is going on at Galra corporations.

———–

It takes 3 days before they find the Champion. Or, to be more exact, the Champion finds them.

Most of the buildings have been mostly empty, filled with squatters and other less fortunate people trying to make a living. There were a few close calls - Pidge had tased a man who looked a little too handsy, and Hunk was lucky that the man who had attacked them had dulled his senses with drink - but mostly, the information gathering had gone well. Allura is thankful that it is the holidays - they wouldn’t have covered so much ground in such a short time if they had lessons to attend.

It’s Allura and Lance’s turn to patrol this time. Hunk had to help his grandmother out, and Pidge has a breakthrough in the code that she wanted to pursue. The building seems old, abandoned to rot, but it isn’t until they climb in through the open window and find themselves surrounded by graffitied walls and a bunch of angry people that they realize that they have stepped foot into gang territory.

It seems that their luck has run out.

They run, fleeing into the alleys, but the gang knows the area like the back of their hand and they don’t give up. They get hemmed in at the end of an alcove, the gang prowling like a pack of wolves on the hunt, leering with hunger. Allura grips her newly acquired crowbar and waits, heart hammering in her throat.

It doesn’t take long before one of them darts forwards. Allura swings, and there is a satisfying crunch as it hits the man’s wrist. In that timespan, another of them - a young woman with braided black hair this time - darts forwards, but Lance throws a rock at her face with pinpoint accuracy while Allura jabs her in the gut. She goes down with a gurgle.

They fight, and they fight well, but in the end, it’s two against six. Allura whirls around as Lance yells, concentration snapped as she catches sight of Lance grapples with the person who grabbed him, and that is all her opponent needs to slam his bat through her defenses.

Allura falls, pain crackling through her abdomen like flames. She gasps, brings her crowbar up as a shoe falls towards her stomach in a kick-

Only for the leg to jerk to the side as someone smashes into her attacker at full speed.

Allura blinks and gets back to her feet. Around her, the place is in chaos - a boy with a mullet is punching a man in the face, while another man in a black hoodie is in the middle of kicking the leader in the gut. The leader swings and the man block it with his arm; Allura catches a glimpse of silver before the hooded man withdraws it and sends the man flying with a punch.

Disbelieving relief rises in her gut. The Champion has arrived.

——-

With four people, the fight is evener. They make short work of the gang, send them packing with their tails between their legs, and Allura turns around to give her thanks and to see if she can convince them to come back with her - maybe they would agree to let her treat their wounds.

Before she can get the words out, however, the Champion doubles over with a pained groan, hands cupping his stomach.

“Shiro?!” Mullet rushes over to his companion, panic crossing his newly bruised features. Allura and Lance follow suit. Mullet hovers over Shiro, exposing his face to the world as he pulls roughly at the area Shiro’s hands cover - and swears violently at what he finds.

Blood. Allura’s stomach turns. One of them must have pulled a knife on him.

“He needs a hospital,” Allura says urgently, but Shiro is shaking his head with a groan before she even finishes the sentence.

Mullet lets go of Shiro, pulling his own jacket off and wading it up. “We can’t afford to go.” He says firmly, but there’s panic dancing in his eyes as he presses the wad of fabric against Shiro’s wound to stem the flow.

“Are you kidding? Keith, he needs a hospital.” Lance interrupts, face serious. “If you can’t afford it we can just -”

“No,” The Mullet boy called Keith insists, and that is definitely unsureness mixed with panic in his eyes now, Allura is sure of it. “No, we can’t afford a hospital. Too risky. And how do you know my name?”

The look Lance shoots Keith is completely unimpressed. “We were in the same year together. Remember?”

“Uh.”

“How could’ve you forgotten our rivalry?! Lance and Keith, neck to neck! It’s only been a few months! And we really need to get Shiro to a hospital before he bleeds out and dies on the street!”

“I told you, we can’t afford-”

“Then come to my place.” Allura interrupts. The two whirl to face them, surprises as if they’d forgotten she’d been there, and she dusts herself down lightly. “We can treat him in private there, as thanks for your help. No hospitals.”

Keith looks unsure, like he wants to accept help but is unable to do so. “Shiro?”

They turn to the man in question. Shiro is pale from blood loss, perspiration on his brow, but there’s a faint red flush to his cheeks that Allura suspects are from fever. For a moment, she thinks that the long scar across Shiro’s nose is from the fight - but no, it’s too healed for it to be recent. The gaunt look on his face is exacerbated by the white lock dangling down his forehead, but there is a stubborn look in his eyes - dilated, Allura notes, confirming her theory about fever - that implies he might not accept the help they offer.

He looks familiar, but that can wait.

Allura waits quietly for his answer, allowing worry and concern to show on her face. Beside her, Lance calls Coran, and Keith helps to press against the wound. Shiro bits his lip at the pressure, but no sound escapes his lips. He looks up at them, shoulders tense as if he is about to refuse, but when he glances at Keith, he sighs. After a few seconds, he nods.

Keith sighs in relief. “Well take your offer.”

With a sigh of relief herself, Allura stands up. Keith attempts to pull Shiro up, and Lance darts in to help him. Allura shoots them a reassuring smile. “This way.”

——–

Coran is not pleased when he sees their battered state, but he brings them in anyway. He leaves to call the doctor as Shiro rests on the couch, and Allura collapses onto a chair with a groan. Beside her, Lance does the same, while Keith stands against the wall with crossed arms.

“Lance!” Hunk rushes into the living room, Pidge and the mice at his heels. He rushes over to Lance, worry on his face. “We heard that there was a fight and wow that’s a lot of bruises.” He pauses, face full of concern. “You all look a mess. What happened? Is everyone ok?”

Allura winces at the worry in Hunk’s voice. Hunk is right - they’ve all had better days. Lance is sporting a magnificently purpling cheek, and even though his sprawl seems relaxed, the way he’s holding himself indicates bruised ribs. Allura looks like a boxer has punched her in the face and her arm hurts, while Keith has a bleeding right arm and a split lip, and although he holds himself afar from the rest, Allura can see the careful way he leans on one side, as if his foot is a crumbling pedestal that can’t bear great weight right now. Shiro might be less battered than the rest of them, but he also has the worst injury with the knife to his stomach.

“We’ll be ok.” Lance is groaning to Hunk. He grins, bright and cheerful and a little bit gloating. “And guess what! Shiro’s the Champion!”

“No way.” Hunk’s eyes widen, whirling around to face the figure on the couch. Pidge does the same. “Takeshi Shirogane?! Shiro the Valedictorian? Leader of the astronomy club who disappeared? We all thought he was dead! And wait - is that Keith?!”

Keith hunches in on himself, an unsure look crossing his face. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Hunk bustles in closer, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Wow man, what happened? We all thought you were -”

“Shiro?”

Allura’s head whips around so fast she almost feels the pain of whiplash. Pidge is staring at Shiro, a mixture of emotions playing across her face. At the edge of her vision, she sees Keith tense as Pidge reaches out, but when Shiro doesn’t move he remains still. Silently, almost as if she’s afraid of waking from a dream, Pidge touches Shiro’s shoulder.

The room is silent now, holding its breath waiting for the next brick to fall. Shiro provides the ammunition with a smile that looks like a grimace, shifting to see her while his hand remains pressed to the wound. “Katie. Hi.”

The room erupts like an unmuted tv.

“You know each other?” Hunk asks the same time Lance yells “you’re a girl?!” Silently, Allura implores the mice on why the universe is so small. Keith says nothing, but he rushes forward with a deftness that’s only slightly hampered by his leg just in time to stop Pidge from grabbing Shiro by the shoulders.

Pidge doesn’t fight Keith’s hold, her face a mixture of anguish and hope. “My brother and dad!” She’s asking urgently, almost yelling. “I’ve been looking for them for ages, do you know where they are?!”

Shiro’s face is pale. “I… I don’t know.” He stammers, sounding lost, upset that he’s unable to provide more. He closes his eyes, body tense like he’s waiting for a blow. “I can’t remember - I’m sorry.”

“How can you not remember-” “He’s sick!”

Pidge and Keith are yelling at each other, Hunk and Lance joining in. Their noise rises to the ceiling, and Allura rubs her head with a grimace. The noise is giving her a headache. As if sensing her distress, the mice climb to her shoulders in an impressive show of gymnastic ability and rub their heads against her cheek.

Quietly, Allura strokes them on the head. Nothing she says right now will try through to the four, agitated as they are now. It would be best to keep quiet for a bit, let them get it out of their system before asking them to quiet down. In the meantime, Allura decides to figure out what’s going on. Takeshi Shirogane looks familiar. Why…

A piece of the puzzle clicks.

Takeshi Shirogane. One of the members who disappeared alongside Matt and Sam Holt. One of the people considered dead.

Why, then, is he still alive, if changed?

A knock on the door that goes almost unheard in the chaos, and Coran peers in, another man beside him. “The doctor has arrived!” He looks at them, eyebrows rising into his hair. They stare back, frozen in place. “Or am I interrupting something?”

Allura gets to her feet. “No, nothing at all.” She replies smoothly. The others nod hastily, quickly going back to their places. Pidge looks like she’s about to burst with questions, but a pat on her shoulder by Lance and a warning look from Hunk and she quiets down, crossing her arms with a huff. Allura smiles, walking towards them. “Just some… minor discussions, that’s all.”

As Coran bustles the doctor in and the others take place in their own seats, Allura resolves to ask questions once they’ve all been treated.

———–

They get the story from Shiro after the doctor has left.

According to Shiro, he and the Holts had been working for Galra Corporations Medical Division - Matt and Shiro as interns, Sam on a work exchange that would last a couple months. They had been researching prosthetics when Sam had noticed something amiss with the data.

“It was the little things,” Shiro says. “Too many tests per month, more supplies than we needed that ended up being used anyway, certain test logs that didn’t appear. We informed the higher ups and they said they’d investigate, but when it continued we decided to look through it ourselves.”

Allura nods, storing the information away for later use. “You found the hidden research facilities.”

“Yes.” Shiro nods, stricken. “They were… people were trapped in labs, made to work, used as lab rats. We…” his hands tighten on the sheets, and he swallows. “I don’t remember much about what went on in there, but we collected data. About the place. And we didn’t know what to do or who to tell, but then we ran into your father, Alfor.”

Allura closes her eyes, grief welling in her, still sharp despite the months that have passed since his death. Her father. He had been suspicious, researching the same thing they had, and by chance or design, they’d manage to get together and create a plan to take down Galra Corporations.

“We were careless,” Shiro says softly. He’s looking down at the sheets, still curled tight in his fingers. Guilt radiates from his body. “We… we gathered the data and sent it to Alfor, but we got caught in the process. They found out.” He doesn’t look up, but Allura can see his shoulders tense as if waiting for a blow, as if she would take out her anger on a man who already has too much on his plate to deal with. “I’m sorry.”

it is clear that Shiro thinks it is his fault. That he had a role to play in her father’s death, for being unable to stop people from being spirited away.

It is not.

“It’s not your fault,” Allura says firmly. Beside her, Coran nods, and she reaches out, takes his hand on her own. The prosthetic feels smooth and cold, a sharp contrast to his warm one. Shiro flinches as if he wants to pull it away from her, but he stays still. “It’s not.” She repeats, and she tightens her grip as if it could get across just how much she means her words.

Shiro hasn’t said much about his imprisonment, just that he had attempted an escape but got caught outside the compound and that Keith had seen him, helped him run, helped him hide and fight for the people who were being taken. But the scars on his face and his arm, a sharp contrast to the photo in the newspaper, tells a story that leaves Allura disgusted at Haggar’s lack of ethic.

The data Pidge had extracted tells the same story - it’s the data that they had sent like a probe of hope to the future. The Galra Corporations had kidnapped countless of people, used Shiro in experiments like an animal, killed her father who went looking for the truth. They did everything they could to bury the truth, but they have failed to cover all their tracks.

“The ones at fault are Galra Corporations. Zarkon, Haggar, everyone who knew. They are responsible for this, and you are not.” Allura looks him straight in the eye, fury and sadness rising in her. She hopes with all her heart that her words reach him “You are just as much of a victim as well.”

Shiro’s eyes widen. He looks like he’s about to cry, that her words are a salvation he thinks he doesn’t deserve. “Allura…”

“Shiro!” Lance bursts into the room, the rest of the team sans Pidge at his heels. Shiro blinks, nonplussed at the sudden change in the situation. “How you doing? And Keith is an ass who doesn’t think he can beat my ‘twenty marshmallows in mouth at one go’ record.”

“It’s not that I can’t beat you, it’s because there are no marshmallows.” Keith, holding the mice in his hands, gently dumps them the bed. They clamber up around Shiro, sniffing his scent curiously. Sprawling back against the visitor seat, Keith raises an eyebrow as Lance produces a bag of marshmallows with a winning grin. “Still don’t believe you can do it.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me!” Lance begins to stuff marshmallows in his mouth.

“I’ve also brought lunch!” Hunk shoulders gently past Lance, a tray in both hands. The tray contains a covered bowl that he places gently on the table. Thought you could use a bite to eat.” He looks expectantly at Shiro.

Shiro looks nonplussed, blinking a few times as he tries to catch up with the situation. The mice take the opportunity to climb to his shoulders. “…Sure..?” He says, as if testing new grounds. Smothering a laugh, Allura stands and helps Hunk move the table in front of Shiro. The smell wafting from the bowl is positively godly, and Shiro closes his eyes with a blissful smile. “That smells really good, Hunk.”

“Not just smell, it tastes great!” Hunk grins proudly as the mice scramble down from Shiro’s shoulders to play on the bed. Behind them, Keith is goading Lance to eat the fourth marshmallow. “Grandma’s secret porridge. She used to make it when I was sick, it goes down really well.”

“It tastes great!” Shiro is wolfing down the porridge as fast as he can. Eyes alight with wonder, he looks up at Hunk with a thankful smile. “I haven’t had anything this delicious since last year.” He chuckles. “All Keith and I can do are microwave food, so we’ve been living off cans for a year.”

Hunk gasps as if he’s just heard that someone has destroyed his mother’s oven. “You poor man. No worries, soon we’ll -”

“Never mind that!” Pidge bursts into the room before Hunk can finish his sentence. She waves a disc excitedly. “I’ve decoded the thing!”

Behind Allura, Lance’s thirteenth marshmallow drops from his mouth to the floor.

———–

As it turns out, the information is with some person named Slav. Shiro recalls him as someone who used to work in the Galra Division, before he disappeared and never went back. The information they have isn’t enough to bring the Galra Corporation down - Slav would serve as a better witness than Shiro, who barely remembers anything from his time gone.

The good news - They know his coordinates. The bad news - it’s out in nowhere in the desert and the nearest bus stop is three hours away.

They frown at the spot on the map, circled in red marker. “Anyone have any ideas?” Allura asks hopefully.

The others launch into a discussion, but all of them don’t quite fit or are filled with holes the size of a colander. In the end, however, it is Coran who saves the day.

“Well,” Coran speaks up suddenly, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. His eyes twinkle. “How do you all feel about a little camping trip?”

———–

The last time Allura had gone camping was when she was a small child, when her mother was still alive. It had been a short camping trip, just a night out staring at the stars with her parents and Coran, but Allura can still recall the awe she’d felt when she saw the stars in all their splendor, twinkling like glitter against a dark blue canvas that expanded as far as her eye could see. Her father had held her up on his shoulders, and her mother had laughed when Allura had tried to reach for the stars with her small, chubby hands.

It had been small and quiet, majestical and grand. A night that shines like a star, representing everything good in her life back when things were simpler.

This time, however, it is different. She is no longer with family, but with friends. They are far away from the small plain from her youth, in the midst of a desert. It is a resting point for a destination, one that could quite potentially change their lives, but that does not mean that they cannot have fun while doing so.

It is a different type of coziness, one that is the boisterous warmth of a bonfire than the quiet coziness of a hearth in the winter. Allura thinks she can get used to both.

“Sooo.” Hunk begins, drawing out the word. He rests his arms on his knees, face light with a teasing grin. “How was dinner?”

“It was great!” Allura exclaims cheerfully. She beams at Hunk from where she’s seated cross legged near the fire, hands spread out for warmth. “I had no idea that baked rice would taste so different when cooked with a campfire.”

“Yeah,” Pidge says. She’s resting on her stomach in front of the fire, stretched out like a cat on the ground. She licks her lips. “It was pretty good, Hunk. Way better than Coran’s weird goop anyway.”

“Hey, it contains nutrients! Good nutrients!” Coran protests. He’s leaning against the van, carefully avoiding the sound of Lance and Keith pouring over the map. On the other side, Shiro is carefully chaining a motorcycle to the van, a prevention against thieves. “Although I have to admit, it was delicious.” He twirls his mustache thoughtfully.

Allura laughs, warmth and contentment mixing in her belly. They’re traveling now, heading towards where they believe is Slav’s location. The notes say that he has what’s left of the information needed to expose Galra Corporations, and so they’re traveling to convince him to help.

They could have taken the train. But Slav lives far away from society, and it would have been faster by driving. They have rented a van, and Keith has his old bike, and when Shiro wistfully said it felt like camping, why not?

Behind her, Keith and Lance are arguing now, Keith tapping the paper like it’s aggravated him. For a moment, Allura wonders if she should intervene, but Shiro walks past her, tapping her shoulder with a grin. “I’ll do it.”

Allura nods and leans back, staring idly into the flickering flames of the campfire. The fire in front of her crackles merrily from the firewood they had chopped earlier, and for a moment Allura wonders if her father has had as much trouble as they had in starting the fire. Quietly, she grasps the necklace around her neck.

“Remembering the good old days, eh?” Coran teases as he steps out of the van. They’ve brought the mice with them in a cage inside the van, and Coran had been in charge of feeding them today - a task recently completed. He drops a navy blue blanket over Pidge’s head. She squawks as it falls over her, covering her entire body like a sea. He leans against the van, smiling, and his eyes are warm, watchful as he waits for Allura to answer. “It’s different, isn’t it?”

Allura looks around thoughtfully. A couple of months ago, she had lost her father, had few friends, was swamped with grief and anger and vengeance with only Coran for company.

Now, she is surrounded with people. Pidge wriggles out of the blanket, one knee raised up in the air as she continues to stare at the fire. Hunk is seated on the steps, staring at the fire and muttering S’more recipes under his breath. Behind Allura, Lance, Shiro, and Keith are talking about locations on the map, arguing to visit the nearest tourist spot or heading straight to their desired location. In front of her, Coran smiles, looking at peace for the first time since her father’s death. Quietly, Allura stares at the fire, a smile curving faintly on her lips.

It is different. But it is also comforting.

“Yes.” The reply is simple, too simple to convey the sense of contentment she feels, but Allura thinks Coran understands what she means. He smiles at her, and Allura laughs quietly, tilting her head back to watch the sunset and the stars appear one by one.

Things aren’t over. Not by a long shot. But for now, in this bubble of warm comfort, Allura feels the weight around her shoulders fade into nothing, leaving her lighter than she has felt for months.

Smiling, she looks up into the darkening sky and calls for the others to see the constellations.

#voltron gen mini bang #trcelyne #voltron legendary defenders #To Light The Way #first complete fanfic #aaaaa this was so hard #but also really fulfilling?#ART IS AWESOME GO CHECK IT OUT #SO IS THE ARTIST

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ptw30 · 7 years

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Stories & Prompts by ptw30

Updated: ...I don’t remember, actually.

Prompts:

Ficlets - 500-1k words - open!

Three-sentence stories - open! Please see details below.

Blade!Shiro ficlets/meta - open! Leave an ask in my box about the series and I’ll answer either with ficlet or a meta response.

Voltron: Legendary Collections & Series

VLD Drabble Challenge - Masterpost - 30 Days, 30 drabbles/ficlets with gen fics, bromances, and the following pairings - Shallura, Klance, Heith, and Kallura

Blade!Shiro Series - Masterpost - How Shiro becomes the only human member of the Blade of Marmora

Galra!Sheith Series - Masterpost - Prompt fills about Keith-turning-Galra and Shiro dealing with Life After the Arena

Blood Brothers Series - Masterpost - a series of Shiro & Keith bromancing stories written before VLD Season 2; complete

653 Followers Giveaway - Masterpost - Drabbles/Ficlets/Prompt-fills for the celebration of 653 followers! Thank you all!

VLD Ficlets

Gen Fics

Yes, Sir: In his first year at the garrison, Keith comes within one demerit of being expelled. Shiro won’t stand for it.

Space Dreams: Sequel to “Yes, Sir.” Shiro helped Keith survive his first few months at the garrison, so Keith returns the favor during Shiro’s first months training for the Kerberos Mission and discovers some secrets about Shiro and himself.

To Infinity and Beyond: Shiro kidnaps Keith for his last birthday before the Kerberos mission.

Sacred Prayer: Pre-Kerberos, Matt and Shiro discuss the dangers of the mission ahead of them. (Drabble, written after I saw the leaked photo of Shiro and Matt from Season 3.)

Letters into the Void: “It kills me when you’re away.”

The Calm Before the Storm: Following the events of “Across the Universe,” Pidge watches as Shiro continues to battle and comes to a few conclusions about her team.

Hug It Out: Yeah, this takes place during The Hug.

Sixth Sense: Set directly in the Black Lion’s cockpit after the events of “Blackout,” Lance refuses to believe Shiro is gone. Now, if only the team believed him.

Grounded: Set after “Sixth Sense,” Pidge helps Keith deal with the loss of his older brother. (I needed to write a Keith and Pidge - B/SOTP.)

Learning Curve: Can be read as a sequel to “Sixth Sense” and “Grounded;” what happened to Shiro after “Blackout,” featuring Lotor.

Paladins’ Day Out: prompt - The paladins visit a Galra zoo where the Holts are on display.

We Freed a Zoo: prompt - sequel to “Paladins’ Day Out” - The paladins go back to the zoo for the Holts.

Kuroweek2k17 - Black and White and Red All Over: Shiro comes back for Keith, who is now a part of the Galra Empire.

Disruption: prompt - a Paladin cuts a silent but deadly one.

Cloak and Bayard Meeting: Keith isn’t the only paladin Shiro spoke to about his contingency plans.

Right Arm: Shiro’s in Galra captivity following the events of “Blackout,” and his caretaking is very interested in a certain paladin.

Short Fuse and Ryou: Post-season 2 - If Ryou Shirogane will be introduced in Voltron: Legendary Defender - this is how I envision it. (written before the clone’s introduction)

Basic Maneuvers: Hunk said in S3E1 that Shiro taught him everything he knows about being a pilot. Hence, this. (Plus, y’know, feels.)

Armed and Ready to Go: Post-season 3 - Keith finds Real!Shiro. (can be read as a sequel to “Yes, Sir” and “Space Dreams,” but also stands as its own ficlet.)

A Secret to Share: Another post-season 3 story - Shiro kept a secret from Keith - but it just might save his life.

Stay: Post-season 4 story - Keith gets dragged by the scruff of his neck again.

Under the Skin: Post-season 5 story - “In every reality, there is always you and me.”

Warmth: Post-Season 6 - Whump! Shiro fic - Shiro gets sunburn.

Homecoming: Post-Season 6 - Red is corrupted by Haggar and begins to lure Keith to the Dark Side.

Sparkles: Post-Season 6 - Shiro is allergic to the Cosmic Wolf.

Resurrection: Post-Season 6 - On the journey to Earth, the team struggles to form Voltron. Lance knows the answer. (Minor AU)

Ship Fics

Shallura Week - The Secret Meeting of Pancakes: Pre-Kerberos, Shiro and Keith made pancakes depending upon specific circumstances in Shiro’s love life. Now, as Paladins of Voltron, that hasn’t changed.

Never-Could-Be: Shallura; Reminiscing brings closure…and other stuff.

Of Rings and Things: Shallura; Klance - Soul-bonding is one thing, but wearing a finger collar? Allura thinks not.

Saturday Morning: Shallura; Klance - prompt: “Shiro, but Happy” - e.g. Fluff Warning to the Extreme

Klangst Week Day 3 – Purple: After Keith’s heritage is revealed to the team, Lance helps Keith comes to grips with his past – and his present.

Klangst Week Day 5 – The Ultimate Betrayal: Keith commits the ultimate betrayal in his relationship with Lance. Can they get past it? (Warning: …crack)

Claiming: Shiro once called Keith his alpha, but that was before Shiro went off to Kerberos - and before he started covering his neck. (Warning: non-graphic sex)

Custody Agreement: Post-Season 7 - Now that the Captain of the Atlas and the Black Paladin have officially begun dating, there’s a matter Lance can’t ignore any longer.

Atlas’ Last Stand: Post Season 7 - Shiro always knew he’d die before natural causes could get him.

Three-Sentence Stories

PROMPTS: OPEN - Click for details.

Galra!Keith bleps

Sequel to Keith’s blep, enter Shiro

Sheith - Keith gets a tail

Klance - More about Keith getting a tail

Pidge has the hiccups; Coran freaks out

Lance has a wandering itch on his back that he can’t reach

Hunk, Pidge and Lance trying to explain Nutella to Keith

Keith and Lance get shrunk (Warning - innuendo)

Lance and Pidge milk-chugging contest

VLD Positivity Three-Sentence Prompts

Plance/Pidgeance - tall helps smol

Plance - “We shoudln’t be doing this.”

Kidge - trees

Heith - survival

Shance - hero

Kallura - flower

Zalivan - flowers

Shallura - comfort

Sheith - moonbeams

Piance/Pidgeance - illness

Wednesday Prompts (I was bored one day at work.)

Uliro - Greetings

Shendak - Shiro and Sendak have kits (the paladins).

Shallura coffeeshop AU

Shendak - Sendak dies (character death)

Stories That Fit in Nowhere/Voltron AU Stories

There Be Monsters: Shiro & Keith bromance - It’s hard being alone in the middle of a night in unfamiliar places.

Package Deal: Shiro & Keith bromance - They go together or not at all.

His Universe: Fluffy Family AU – Sometimes the most difficult decisions are actually the easiest to make.

How Shiro Became Dad: I felt like writing a super fluffy, domestic AU drabble. This is that drabble.

Dad Duties: Sequel to “How Shiro Became a Dad” - more domestic, tooth-rotting fluff

Castle in the Sky: Takes place after the VLD season two finale, and it should be 70k and show Keith and the Paladins saving Shiro. Instead, it’s quick 1k I needed to write to indulge my muse.

Sleeping with the Enemy: Shendak; modern/crime au - Shiro and Sendak spend a night together and reaffirm some details about their relationship. (Warning; possible NSFW)

Kuroko no Basuke Stories

The True Shadow and Light (prompt: Kagakuro, year three)

All posts are tagged with #ptw30 pens!

#voltron: legendary defender #voltron #masterpost #ptw30 pens #prompts #writing #fanfiction #series

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kellbellsparkles · 7 years

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Spiraling

A Klangst and Lance sick fic one-shot I spent days working on and I’m so glad it’s finished! I hope you all enjoy it! ^^

“Lance. Laaaaaaaance.”

My head pounded. I must've hit my limit. The last thing I remember was barely making it into the training room. Ever since we got Shiro back and reunited Pidge with her brother, Matt, it'd been one heck of a party in the castle. Allura and Coran had all sorts of questions for Matt wanting to learn any information he had that could help us win the war. Shiro and Matt bonded over what their capture had done to them and were constantly shoulder to shoulder together. Pidge and Matt were catching up on precious family time missed. I wanted to feel happy for them; reuniting with family is everything I could ever dream of. That's exactly why I could hardly stand looking at them.

Matt showed Hunk how to build these little dino-like drones that blow up when they touch an enemy, their cute exterior masking their demonic motive. He also brought with him new recipes for Hunk to start crafting himself. I'd never seen his eyes flash that excitingly since he discovered how to make whipped cream with the space goo. Meanwhile, Keith showed interest in Matt's unique combat style. Even though they weren't in the same class back in the Garrison, Matt immediately recognized him from being the best pilot besides Shiro and was more than happy to take him under his wing. Of course.

I could grieve over how I was now the eighth wheel, but every single moment, every single day, my thoughts traveled back to Keith. He just had to attract another fan to walk right past me and remind everyone how superior he was in every way. I approached Matt with classic beauty tips to restore the shine in his skin and hair that he had to have lost during his time fighting Galra with the rebellion, which he quietly nodded to as expected, but really, I couldn't handle reliving those cargo pilot years again.

I thought, what would Keith do? Heavily ironic, I know. But I was desperate to escape from the suffocating black hole I kept being pulled into. For two weeks, I waited until I heard Keith finally go to bed to take my turn in the training room; having to be checked up on by him would've been the greatest humiliation of all. I clocked in for two hours of hand-to-hand combat exercises, steadily increasing the difficulty day after day. I'd be lying if I said I made any progress. The training bots had me on my back faster than I could even make an effort to touch them. My body was littered with cuts, bruises, and scrapes and cried for relief. However, my older brother, Craig, always said, “What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.” And I would eventually learn something from this, right?

“Wake up, sleepy-head.”

I opened my eyes finally. I saw blue space ships and shooting stars circling around the ceiling light.

Wait a minute, I thought. I rubbed my eyes to do a double-take. They were the exact same shape, exact same colors as the ones in my bedroom back home. I sat up and looked down at my bedsheets: space with the galaxy swirls and the Canis Major, Cygnus, Gemini, and all the constellations that could visibly fit into the print. My eyes wandered frantically; my shelf with all my soccer ribbons and trophies, my poster of Shiro, my stuffed starter water Pokemon, my Little Mermaid wall clock, everything was the same.

“How are you feeling?”

That voice; that sweet, soothing, gentle, motherly voice. I couldn't believe it.

“Tina?” I said. “Is that really you?”

My older sister, Tina, was right there standing in front of me. There was no mistaking her long, luscious, curly brown hair and grassy green eyes. If I were a girl, I'd be looking directly in a mirror.

“Of course it's me, silly,” she said sweetly.

“B-But--” I stammered. “Me and Hunk and Pidge-- We found Shiro-- Busted him out of the Garrison-- Blue Lion-- Took us out to Kerberos-- Then through a wormhole-- Then the Galra-- Then Voltron-- Then we-- Then we--”

“Please settle down, Lance,” Tina said. “Take a deep breath.”

A lump rose in my throat; my hands were shaking madly. Was it all just a dream then? Tina patted my head. It should've calmed me right then and there, but I couldn't breathe still.

“You've been pushing yourself way too hard,” she told me. “Everyone's worried.”

“Wh-Who's we?” I asked shakily.

“Your friends,” she replied. “They've been waiting to hear what's been bothering you so they can help ensure this never happens again.”

“I don't understand-- Oww,” I held my head in my hands. It felt like Keith had thrust his knife in there after finally having had enough of me. Tina's hand lowered to my forehead, so soft and cool.

“You're really burning up,” Tina said sorrowfully. She took my shoulders gently and laid me back down. “Here. Now stay and rest until you're feeling one hundred percent better.”

“But there's so much I have to tell you!” I cried. After what felt like years, I was finally with my sister. I wanted to reach up and hug her and never let go and never leave again, but I didn't have the strength to.

“Shhshh,” she whispered. “Everything will be fine when you wake up.”

“GOOOOD MOOORNING, MCCLAAAIN FAMILYYYYY!!”

Out of nowhere, Craig, oh Craig, appeared in aviator attire, and my room morphed into the inside of a passenger airplane. Tina was still with me, holding my hand.

“And how are we today?” Craig cheered. “We've got clear skies ahead on our flight this morning accompanied with skittled dolphins mounted by duckling warriors and a guaranteed guest performance of the Woofs!”

“AIRPLANES!!”

Then little Diego, or widely known in our family and his friends as Deets, sprung in my face, flailing his arms. At that moment, whether I was aboard the castle or back home, I knew I had to be dreaming. I looked up and discovered the plane had no ceiling and indeed, there were a multitude of dolphins, dual and tri-colored making up the colors of the rainbow, being ridden by little ducklings wearing gladiator helmets. Suddenly, heavy jazz music launched its assault on my ears. I leaped from my seat, turned around, and found a pug on a drum set playing a slow, smooth rhythm, a yellow labrador on the piano, a German shepherd on the bass, and a corgi on the saxophone. They all wore black sunglasses and fedoras with the signature paw sign on them.

“Lance, look! I'm flying!!”

And to top it all off, my little sister, Luz, was giggling her butt off as she soared and spun in the sky in close proximity of the dragons.

“Luz?!” I shouted. “How did you even-- Get down from there!!”

“AIRPLANES!” Deets exclaimed again.

“And if you look down to your right,” Craig announced. “We're just passing over Bread Town, and they've graciously supplied us with all the bread fair sculptures to jolly our appetites through this plane wreck.” He presented me with the two miniature fair and ferris wheel creations, all in working order.

“Wheat or rye?” He asked me.

“Enough!” I cried, slapping the luscious-looking bread our mom could make away from me. I had some crazy dreams, but never had I felt so scared, so panicked, my heart racing faster than when I had to get a 3-D sculpture of the face of the warden of Beta Traz without getting caught. “Who's even flying the plane??”

I hauled out of my seat and ran for the cockpit. When I opened the door, it tore from the hinges and blew out into the sky, hitting one of the dolphins. It exploded into a puff of glitter and skittles. I clung onto the metal before I could meet the same fate.

“This is why you need a seat belt,” the pilot said. He emerged from the top of the seat, directly facing me.

“Slav??” I groaned. Of all people to appear next…. “What are you doing here??”

“In the fourty-seven point four percent of realities where seat belts have never been invented,” he said. “It's time to make your own with the seat belt creation kit.”

“What even is that??”

“Not that it matters now, for soon in this reality, we're going to dive deep into the mustard of sorrow.”

The plane jerked down and flung me back into my seat. We were descending faster and at a greater angle than any roller coaster I dared to board, and into mustard; so bitter and sour.

“Pull up!!” I screeched. “Somebody!!”

“Control's beyond our reach,” Craig said, suddenly floating above me. “Such has been our lives.”

“Come fly with me, big brother!” Luz sang, now riding a dolphin herself.

“AIRPLANES!!” Deets howled in harmony with the Woofs.

I turned to my sister about to plea for help in ending this madness, but she was just sitting still, smiling at me like nothing was wrong. I curled up in a ball and covered my ears. I prayed and I pleaded for it all to end, for someone to come swoop me from the chaos, but who? Who that wasn't my nonchalant siblings?

Hunk.

Pidge.

It was all coming back to me now.

Shiro.

Allura.

Coran.

Keith.

Keith….

A great force choked my heart. I lurched forward and clutched my chest. Whatever it was, my body didn't like it and made attempts to force it out my throat.

Keith?

Without thinking, I burst from my seat and reached for the sky.

“KEEEEEITH!!”

I flailed and wailed with all my might, only to be grabbed by both sides and pushed down. The action sent a shock wave of pain and spasms through my body, a sensation absent from when I was aboard the crashing plane. Could it be I was back in the real world? If so, which one? Was I back home like I had hoped for or in the castle? I tried to open my eyes, but my body went on full auto-pilot, thinking I was still trying to escape from the descent mustard of sorrow. The muffled voices writhed and scratched against me. I felt a great pressure on my legs next; I was completely immobilized. Before I could react, I felt a slight pinch in my right arm. A wave of relief flowed through my body and allowed it to sink into wherever I laid. I could finally open my eyes without panic holding them down.

There they were: from the front down, Hunk and Coran to my left and Shiro and Keith to my right. Sweat dropped from each of their bangs as they looked down at me with great worry. I never thought it'd be possible for them to be that concerned about me. Just how bad did I look to cause them such distress? I opened my mouth to speak, but a heavy spell started to force my eyes shut again. I fought it for as long as I could; there was something I needed to do first. I needed to get a good look at Keith to understand why I called out to him out of everyone else on the ship. His eyes were so focused, so gleaming, so purple.

So his Galra side was visible after all.

When feeling came back to my body next, I wondered if I had opened my eyes at all. My surroundings were almost pitch black. I felt something encircle and tickle my mouth. I reached my hand around it to feel what I thought was Allura's hair; the beautiful maiden coming around to give me mouth to mouth, but alas. It was a respirator mask. I sat up and ripped it off my face, sighing in disappointment. However, the action invoked a violent coughing fit. As I gasped for air, I discovered my voice had been tainted by an ugly rasp. I caught colds and the flu before, but out in space, we didn't know what vile specs of bacteria could contaminate our bodies and what effect they would have on humans.

Soon, the respirator was slapped back on my face and a pair of firm, half-gloved hands promptly took me by the shoulders.

“Lance!”

It was Keith. He rubbed my back as I let out a few more painful coughs. When the ordeal was over, he carefully laid me back down. I thought I had to have been dreaming still because the Keith I knew would never be careful let alone gentle.

“Don't move,” he instructed. “Or talk. Just rest.”

I had seen him pretty banged up, for instance, when he came back from the Blade of Marmora base with Shiro, but he looked like he had been flung into a violent vortex and struck by its quintessence. I squinted when I looked at his hair, not even a mullet, just a shaggy, spiky shrub that had too many radioactive fertilizers, and he had the darkest circles under his eyes I had ever seen on anyone.

“Whoa, Keith,” I said. “What big battle did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Keith growled. “Now shut it.”

“But you look horrible,” I remarked. “You should get suited up for a healing pod or something.”

“The only one here who needs a healing pod is you,” Keith snapped. “But there was a bug that kept them from working when Coran and Pidge made an attempt to update the castle technology to this time period.”

“Really?” I chuckled. “Does this mean we have space wi-fi now?”

“I don't know what that is,” Keith said, frustrated. “But you better shut your quiznak before I shut it for you.”

Man, Keith was really out of it.

“I don't think you're using that word correctly,” I teased.

“You don't understand!!” Keith yelled. “You never do!! Do I have to spell it out for you??”

If I had the energy to move my arms, I'd clap them over my ears; Keith's fiery voice had the power to make them bleed.

“Ow,” I grunted. “You're not the only one who's tired here.”

“Yeah, I'm tired! I'm tired of you thinking of yourself and not seeing how much I care about you! You didn't think I'd notice something was wrong?? You could barely stand without wobbling and your pants looked like they were going to fall down at any given time! You and your cheeky laugh when you said you were fine! I wish I could just rip out your vocal cords and strangle you with them!”

He had me by the shoulders again. I really did it this time, I thought. I closed my eyes waiting for the classic Kogane punch or choke-hold. A good ten ticks went by. Nothing. I opened my eyes to see what was taking him so long. What I saw was even worse than any glare or blow he could ever land on me.

“We almost lost you,” he sobbed grossly. “Your fever was so high and your heart rate broke the monitor. If we hadn't put you under in time….”

His tears dripped onto my chest. Crying was never good, especially if I was the one who caused it, and Keith's face was as red as the Red Lion and his shoulders quaked and heaved with each sob.

“Hey,” I said. “It's okay. It's not really worth crying over.”

“How?” Keith choked. “How can you say that? Didn't you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But you? Crying over me? It's the dumbest idea for a soap opera in this whole universe. It's a worse and more unrealistic plot line than a man in his mid-twenties owning his own company. Now if it were Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, Allura, Coran, or even Matt, then it would work better.”

A few ticks went by without a word; Keith's face appeared to have softened. I smiled, thinking my lecture had worked.

“See?” I said. “I knew you'd come to your senses--”

However, the universe had a queer idea for a prank: taking Keith's hands against my cheeks and leaning in so his forehead brushed against mine.

“Just shut up,” he whispered. “And don't ever speak that nonsense again.”

I gulped. Even though I wore a respirator, my lungs stopped functioning. My heart dropped to my stomach than bounced up to my throat. Then, I felt Keith's pants brush over my legs, and there he was, smack dab on my body. He pushed himself downward and laid his head on my chest.

“Uh,” I muttered. “Keith?”

He snored lightly in response. Just great. What if I had to use the bathroom? Surely he'd kill me for getting his clothes wet or waking up to the smell of the other thing. I shook him lightly.

“Keeeeith,” I whined. But my efforts were in vain. Just how long had I been out with this hot-headed idiot watching over me? I sighed in defeat. I would've liked it more if it had been Allura or another lovely looking space lady, but for some strange reason, I'd come to like this just as much. He laid there completely still with his arms spanned over me. I used the opportunity to flatten and straighten the blaring distraction on his head. I paused; I never imagined his hair would feel so smooth and soft. I rested and intertwined my fingers in his raven locks. If that didn't wake him up, then surely my drumming heart would, but he didn't stir an inch.

I didn't know what was coming over me. I thought maybe I had a fever still. Once I got better, everything would go back to normal. However, I had a feeling that Keith would never let this go, literally, and my hunch was right. Until I was on my two feet again, he trapped me to keep me from recklessly escaping. He didn't even care if anyone was watching or if Pidge was snapping pictures of us in an obviously intimate position. I was surprised that Shiro was enabling this behavior, but after he told me that I had contracted a space version of the flu called Phlegia, I stopped protesting. I remembered he and Keith have a history and must know the reason Keith is clinging to me like a kitten.

I panicked at the thought of Keith with little kitten ears and a tail. So cute! In fact, Galra resembled cats in a way. I found myself hoping that his Galra genes would surface and give him the same features. Suddenly, I discovered that I had never thought so intensely about an individual before despite having flirted infinitely with girls for a number of years. Why Keith, a guy, of all people? I didn't know why, but if there was one thing I was sure of, I didn't want to make him cry ever again.

#Voltron #Klance #Klangst #Langst

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pumpkins-s · 7 years

Text

Spilling Like An Overflowing Sink

Read on AO3 Here

Read the Other Chapters on Tumblr Here

Lance Alexander Rafael McClain is born in the middle of a summer storm, thunder cracking and rain slamming onto the roof of an old ramshackle house that had seen more than its fair share of children.

The miracle baby, that’s what the family had called Lance. The unexpected son to a mother of five daughters.

(In which family is always complicated, Lance’s life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, and he and Keith are really emotionally constipated for each other.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: Keith/Lance, significant platonic Lance & Hunk

Characters: Lance, Lance’s family, Hunk, Keith, Shiro, Pidge, Allura, Coran

Chapter 8: Longings

(( Author’s Note:

(kicks down door) Greetings, I'm back.

Apologies for being away from this fic so long. It's been a weird few months for me with a lot of personal stuff going on (If you follow me on social media I'm sure you witnessed the fallout of my breakup with my near year-long partner, for one), and that in addition to the Large amount of discourse in the fandom that sprung up after season 2, particularly surrounding Lance content, made me too nervous to update for a long time.

It took a while, but I eventually remembered that I started this fic for me, because it makes me happy, and letting the pressures of how long an update was or worrying over people's demands for when Keith would arrive was only hurting me, and my ability to write the fic.

So new rule. I'm doing this at my pace, Keith will get here when he gets here. End of story.

Now, before we begin, a couple things:

I'm incredibly honored and delighted to present to you all the finished version of Peachlance's fanart for this fic, which if you remember I linked the WIP sketch to a couple chapters back. You can check out their gorgeous art of Lance & Hunk here on tumblr, or here on twitter.

Also! I'm still not an artist in the slightest, but for those of y'all desiring them, here's some rough references for Mavis and Ritzie & Yuu I did a few months ago.

That's it. Have fun, bye. ))

Mavis’s apartment is a tiny thing on the thirteenth floor of a crumbling old residential building wedged between two larger, shinier new buildings, the few small windows in her apartment providing absolutely stunning views of her fire escape and the wall of the building outside.

It’s tiny, jam-packed, and bordering on claustrophobic, with its singular bedroom, living room, kitchenette, and bathroom all crammed together into one small unit. As a whole, it’s considerably smaller than Lance’s home, even if he is used to sharing that space with a hoard of other people, and arguably he’s pretty sure Mavis’s bedroom is actually slightly smaller than his and Hunk’s dorm room at Greenwood, which is saying something, given that’s not exactly a large space either.

Lance loves it instantly.

The first time he sees the apartment, an exhaustingly long thirty minute subway ride involving three train changes away from the airport, Mavis kicks the door open with otherwise little fanfare, dumping Lance’s suitcase by the door and straightening up.

“Welcome to city living! Mi casa es tu casa.”

Lance snorts, eyes roaming over the mess of dirty dishes in the sink, the unfolded pile of laundry on the coffee table, the assortment of books and music sheets on the kitchen counter. “Tu casa es un desastre.”

“Hush.” Mavis says, pointing a finger at him. “You try being an adult capable of clean, organized living these days. It’s hard.”

“You’re twenty-five.” Lance deadpans, and Mavis sniffs, flipping her hair and crossing her arms, pouting.

“Don’t remind me. I already feel old.” She claps her hands, grabbing Lance’s bag again and swinging it over her shoulder easily as if it isn’t heavily packed with everything Lance needs to survive here for three and a half weeks. “C’mon, let’s get you settled. You’re lucky I bought a bed that has one of those second mattress pullout trundle things in case one of my brothers or Evie ever came to stay or something.”

“Goodie.” Lance mutters, and Mavis smirks back at him, nudging the bedroom door open just as her phone goes off. Pulling it out of her pocket, she glances at the number and winces. “Work. I need to take this.” Swinging Lance’s bag off her shoulder, she turns and bodily chucks it at the trundle bed, sending it flying onto it with a loud crash that leaves Lance wincing and pitying his cousin’s neighbors. “Go ahead and get settled while I’m on the phone, if you want. There’s some toiletries and spare clothes I picked up just in case, since I wasn’t sure if you packed enough given I do the laundry like… once a month.”

“Gross.” Mavis snorts, and nudges him into the room, pulling the door shut behind her as she turns back to the living room, answering her call with a muffled, yet distinctly blunt “What.”, obviously none-to-pleased with whomever is calling her on her day off.

Sighing, Lance shuffles his way over to the trundle bed, nudging his suitcase over to a corner as best he can and then flopping down, savoring being able to stretch out properly after hours of being crammed on first a plane and then the subway. He may be smaller than an adult, or even, admittedly, small for his age, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates being shoved into tight spaces for extended periods of time any more than the next person.

Rubbing at his eyes, he sits up and turns to the small pile of clothes and what looks like a spare toothbrush and face-wash, among other things, resting on the pillow. He moves the toiletries without much thought, idly inspecting the label on the face-wash and happily noting it’s a brand he’s used before, but when he turns to the clothes he hesitates, looking at the shirt resting on top properly for the first time and noting a… small problem.

It’s pink.

A bright, searing pink, small flowers patterned along the collar and lace for sleeves.

Hands shaking, he grabs the fabric and carefully lifts it up, eyes roaming over the distinctly feminine cut and color of the shirt with a kind of displaced horror, offset by the hesitant want he feels just from looking.

The shirt is exactly the kind of thing he would have picked out, a year and a lifetime ago. On instinct, he holds it to his nose, and it smells… not like what he remembers when he thinks of clothing like this, of Loraine’s shampoo and his mother’s laundry detergent, but it does smell somewhat like Mavis, like the subtle scent of her leather jacket and her apartment, and that is… not right, but not wrong either.

God though, that doesn’t take the edge off the wanting, even noting these minute differences between his memories of the life he craves and his reality. If anything, knowing it’s real, here and presented in this space where he is relatively free of the consequences of such choices, makes the whole thing worse.

Almost idly, hands gripping light fabric, he thinks of a story his Aunt Rosa had told him once as a child, an old Greek myth from one of her well-worn books about a king who was punished for his transgressions in the afterlife by being placed on an island surrounded by water and with fruit trees growing on it, but could not eat or drink, no matter how much he hungered or thirsted, for eternity.

That is what this is like, he thinks. It’s placing cursed salvation in front of a starving person and watching them crawl desperately towards it.

He wants so badly, and yet to have it is akin to taking fruit from the poisoned tree.

Jerking slightly, Lance drops the shirt with shaking hands, as if it might scald him. From the kitchen, Mavis’s voice, raising in volume as she argues with whoever is on the other end of the line, drifts through, pulling him back to reality.

Mavis… right.

Assumedly, this is her doing, then.

Hesitantly, he turns to the remaining pile of clothing, eyes falling to a now more than obvious assortment of bright patterns and cheerful designs, a veritable ball of doom. Reaching out, both hands grasping unsurely, he rifles through it, overly-short cut fingernails, a habit he picked up to fight the urge to paint them, catching on floral shorts and thin tights and close-shaped t-shirts splashed with color.

As a whole, he counts four shirts, two skirts, one pair of high-waist shorts, and a single pair of light pink tights.

…Oh, and a clip-on hair ribbon. Blue.

Really, it’s not that much, barely a few days selection of clothes, but at the same time, it’s everything.

He wants to cry, he wants to cheer, he wants to burn it and curl up in a ball and try to forget.

It’s the little things that destroy a person, Lance thinks, when it comes to the wanting.

Outside the room, Mavis’s voice rises to a sharp crescendo, followed by the muffled sound of something being chucked sharply against a thankfully soft object, and, judging by the following array of colorful swears directed to the air, Lance can only assume it was Mavis’s phone being thrown, hopefully onto the sofa or something where it won’t be damaged.

It’s a funny thought that preoccupies his mind for all of about two seconds, before his gaze falls to the clothing spread out before him, and he swallows nervously, calling out. “M-Mavis…?”

Despite his half-hearted effort at the tiny vocalization, the loud cursing from the kitchen trails off, and after a moment, Mavis pushes her way into the room, door slamming open and then swinging shut behind her on its own momentum. Her hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction where she’s clearly run her fingers through it, but she doesn’t look upset, just mildly pissed at best.

“Sorry, sorry, my boss is a dick. I was supposed to have tomorrow off to do fun bonding shit with you or something, but he’s now demanding I cover my lazy coworkers ass so…” She trails off, eyes falling to him for the first time and widening, taking in his own shell-shocked expression, before her gaze catches on the scattered clothing, and it closes off, becomes guarded. “Ah.”

With a kind of long-awaited resignation, she trudges over to the trundle bed, nudging Lance gently with a food to get him to move over, and then flopping down next to him, lifting an arm in clear invitation. Lance doesn’t hesitate, despite the distant knowledge that the articles of his distress were undeniably provided by the person next to him, and falls against her side, tucking his head under Mavis’s chin and listening to the thrum of her heartbeat, the erratic sound slowing out to a steady rhythm as she calms down.

It’s good. Soothing. Like how he used to lay with Loraine when he was younger, the two of them tucked up together on that cramped bed layered in old quilts and well-worn pillows.

For a moment, when he closes his eyes and feels Mavis’s blunt fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp as her fingers card gently through his hair, he can pretend he’s back there again, in his sanctuary.

But... He sighs out, opening his eyes and meeting the sight of Mavis’s whitewashed wall. He is not there, and this apartment might just be his next best chance at something like a new sanctuary.

“I’m sorry.” Mavis says after a long moment of quiet, voice low and unsure. “I forgot.”

“Why would you…?” He rasps out, words falling into uncertainty.

Mavis chuckles, a brittle, bitter sound. “Let’s call it a momentary increase in stupidity. I just…” She sighs. “I wasn’t thinking, really. Well… No, I was thinking, just not very intelligently.”

“Well, clearly.”

She laughs at that, small but genuine, and Lance manages his own wet giggle in return. She grins down at him, and then her face falls, turning away to look at the wall. “I… I listen to you on the other end of that phone every week, Lance, and I don’t even have to see you to know how much it’s killing you underneath, living like that. No matter what, you’re miserable because of it, and I suppose I just thought…” She shrugs. “No one knows you here, so there’s no consequences here, y’know? It’s completely removed from home, from your school… from everything.” Mavis smiles weakly. “It’s stupid, but I guess at the time I wanted this place to be the escape for you that I made it for me. Plus, well… I can’t help but feel a little guilty, I suppose.”

Lance shifts at that, offering a questioning noise. “What? Why?”

Mavis shifts nervously. “Lance, you hate living like this, and I was the one who talked you into Greenwood in the first place—“

“Hey, no. No.” Lance sits up quickly, glaring at Mavis. “You didn’t talk me into anything. This— Everything was my decision. You didn’t coerce me into making the choices I have or any of that shit.”

“But—“

“Nope!” He says firmly, poking his cousin’s cheek gently. “You helped me, nothing more, and for that I’m grateful, okay? I’m…” He sighs. “I’m not saying I like living like this, or that I’m alright with it, because I’m really… really not, but I need it. I need this… purpose, to keep me going, to give me something to hold onto.” Lance hesitates. “I’m honestly not sure if I’d be alive right now, if you hadn’t helped me find that. It stabilized me.”

Mavis stares at him for a long moment, and then groans, head tipping back to fall against the side of the proper bed next to the trundle, where her back rests. “Don’t go getting emotional on me now, kid. We can’t both be having a sob fest, and your bullshit earnestness makes my self-pity just look sad.”

Lance grins in spite of himself. “Karma for deciding you’re to blame for all my problems.”

“Hey!” Mavis sticks a hand into the air, pointing up at nothing imperiously. “I never said I was to blame for all your problems. Just… a few of them.” She coughs, hand falling after a moment almost bashfully. “Ok, in retrospect, that sounds… Yeah.” After a moment, she glances down at him, raising an eyebrow. “I did actually mean to return those this morning before I picked you up and get you some different stuff, I just genuinely forgot.”

He smiles softly. “I believe you. I wasn’t angry in the first place, anyways.”

It’s true, really. Whatever slight slivers of annoyance he’d felt at Mavis sticking such metaphorical poisoned fruit in front of him had quickly drained away within minutes, leaving only a kind of calm acceptance and tiny pieces of lingering grief.

Mavis loves him, as much as any of his sisters, and maybe even almost as much as Loraine had, he knows this. She would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, or pain him. She only wanted to help— Had only ever wanted to help, since that first conversation after Loraine’s funeral, when she had offered him Loraine’s final gift, and along with it the directions to a chance at redemption.

“I should have known it was a shitty idea from the beginning, really.” Mavis murmurs quietly, leaning over and snagging the single pair of tights to glare at them ruefully. “Sticking you with that kind of decision.”

Almost unconsciously, Lance reaches out, catching the dangling ends of the tights carefully and tangling them between his fingers. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” He swallows. “I want too much, I think. I’m afraid if I let myself have that kind of thing, I might not have the heart to give it up again.” His eyes flicker to his cousin. “And I can’t, Mavis. I can’t let those pieces of who I was back into my life. I’d rather die than jeopardize this last thing that I can do for her.”

Mavis sighs, dropping the rest of the tights into his hands. “You shouldn’t live your life trying to please what’s not coming back, Lance.”

“It’s what I want, though.” He says. “It’s the only thing I want, really, to do what she couldn’t. It’s the closest I can get to keeping a piece of her alive, and I… I need that.”

“I know…” Mavis says, closing her eyes. “God, I know.”

That night, Lance dreams of Loraine. Of the soft warmth of her hugs, of the sweet taste of summer air and of breathless laughter caught in near soundlessness on rushing air around a speeding hoverbike on old dirt roads.

There are dreams Lance has, nightmares really, that end in screaming, in the oxygen in his lungs being stolen in heaving sobs that leave him shivering and with an aching throat. Those… Those are the nights of blood and pain, the sensation of falling through air and of remembering what glassy, unseeing eyes look like, the nights when he cannot escape the day she died.

This is not one of those nights. Though, still, the bittersweet feeling of her face and her heart, loving and kind, haunting his sleep leave him with tear tracks on his face when he wakes, regardless.

Almost blindly, he rolls half out of bed, intending to walk the five steps necessary to reach Hunk’s across the room and curl up against the larger, slowly snoring warmth that is his friend, before his hand touches scratchy, industrial carpet instead of old wooden floorboards, and he remembers he is not at home, and Hunk is not here.

Sitting up, he rubs at his eyes blearily, squinting at Mavis’s distinctly unoccupied bed next to the pullout trundle, and then turns when the faint flickering of light under the doorway catches his eye. Stumbling to his feet, he carefully crosses the room and opens the door, pulling it open with the gentlest of creaks to bring the wash of yellow light from the kitchen streaming in, illuminating Mavis’s frame where she sits on a stool next to her kitchen bench, half hunched over a bowl of cereal and eyes settled on the book she has propped up against the fruit bowl. She blinks, glancing up, and when her gaze finds him her expression softens ever so slightly, almost lost in the imperceptibly neutral planes of her face.

He almost expects her to offer some quip, some cliché line that he can read in her eyes that screams you too, huh? But instead, she merely makes a halfhearted noise that falls somewhere between a snort and a sigh, and pulls out the stool next to her, patting it idly. Slowly, Lance edges out of the doorway and over to the stool, catching his toes on the well-worn wood of the ring between the legs of the seat as he looks for footing, scrambling up onto it as best he can. Legs dangling, too short to touch the ground, once he’s settled.

Mavis grabs a bowl from a stack on the bench, obviously washed but yet to be put away in a cupboard, in front of him, and then nudges the open box of cereal towards him. He accepts it wordlessly, pouring it into the bowl in rush of noise against the silence as the pieces of grain collide against the porcelain.

They’re Cheerios, he notes almost absentmindedly.

Loraine had liked Cheerios.

Fumbling, he reaches for the milk carton where it sits between the two bowls, and Mavis intercepts him quickly, picking up the carton and unscrewing the lid.

“New carton. It’s heavy.” Is all she offers, pouring the milk into his bowl. She resettles the carton once the pieces of golden brown are floating in white, presenting him with a spoon from who knows where wordlessly.

Lance takes it, scooping up a mouthful, and tries not to cry when the cool rush of milk and sweet tang of the cereal hits his tongue.

“I never liked Cheerios much growing up.” Mavis says quietly, staring down at her half-empty bowl and trailing her spoon through the mess before lifting it to her lips. “Loraine and Evie did, though, so that was all my Ma or Aunt Maria ever bought when they went to the store.”

Outside, there comes the faintest whisper of witching hour traffic along the streets, and the clinking of their spoons against the porcelain bowls is loud in the otherwise silence of the night.

“You’re an adult,” He murmurs, “…Does it ever get better?”

Mavis sighs, propping an elbow on the bench and resting her cheek in her hand. “I’ll tell you when I figure that out myself.”

Lance nods jerkily, and that’s the end of it.

Even by that first day after Lance arrives, things are a mess, because Mavis’s schedule is a mess— And maybe her life in general is a bit of a mess, too, but Lance imagines that comes with the territory when one is somehow a part-time bartender, part-time stagehand, and freelance musician all at once.

Plus, well, it’s Mavis. She kind of specializes in functioning from afar while everything actively goes to shit, which he suspects is a trait he might slowly be inheriting via continued exposure to her mere presence.

Maybe. Maybe.

…Lance isn’t sure if he knows how to function period, really, regardless of outside problems, so maybe he’s just kidding himself with that one.

Either way, function Mavis does, so the morning after their little heart-to-heart over soggy bowls of Cheerios in the last trickling vestiges of night, she rolls out of bed to the chime of an annoyingly cheerful alarm at six AM and staggers her way into the bathroom to get ready for work, nearly tripping over Lance’s trundle as she goes, which is enough to wake him and send him scurrying into her bed to seize the warm spot she’s left behind.

She makes a face at him when she returns, poking the side of his head where it peeks out between the sheets. He hums sleepily, and she grins, a crooked, fragile thing. “’M sorry about this. I really wasn’t supposed to work today.” He offers a half-awake noise of understanding, and Mavis’s expression fades into a soft smile. “I’ll be back by dinner, I’ll bring takeout or something. You still like Thai food, right?”

“Mmmm….” Lance rumbles out, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “…Yeah.”

“Good, cool.” She straightens up, sighing out. “TV has a DVR, remote’s on the table. Don’t open the door to anyone, etcetera, etcetera.”

“I know, Mavis.” He mumbles. “I’ll be fine.”

She hesitates, dropping an uncharacteristic kiss onto his forehead, an action Lance would expect more from Marcie or Evie, and then she’s gone.

It only takes a few hours, once he’s rolled out of bed and forced himself into the living room, before the boredom sets in, and the itch, just there under his skin, becomes all the more obvious, like a crawling, wiggling thing, burying deep until it hums and scratches in his bones. It had been there since he’d woken up and gone to get dressed, uncomfortably aware of the selection of clothing Mavis had gotten for him shoved onto a shelf in the closet, just… there, right within grasp.

It’s undeniable, like a siren’s call, and television can only distract him for so long.

Almost automatically, he reaches for his phone, intending to call Hunk, his go-to backup system, before he pauses, and then drops his hand.

Hunk. Right. Part of the whole purpose of this trip was to not so subtly give Hunk a break from Lance’s… everything. He’s not going to go calling his friend after less than a day over some frigging clothing. It’ll just leave Hunk worrying about him incessantly.

He takes his phone, buries it between the couch cushions, and resurrects Mavis’s laptop from its constantly overheating, cracked screen, duct-taped death to Skype Ritzie.

“It’s just all so boring, darling.” She tells him in lighthearted monotone, bushy hair pulled back in a single ponytail on the other side of the screen, pale skin against jean shorts where she sits cross-legged and curled up in on herself. Off screen, someone calls her name, and she yells back loudly in French, before turning back to the camera with a sigh. “I love France, but it’s all just making nice with Papa’s business associates while he jets them around on cruises and listening to him arguing over the phone with Daddy about custody, again.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s like I’m a freaking commodity to be passed around.”

“Sorry.” He tells her in a whisper, and Ritzie laughs, the bright, cheerful sound he’s come to recognize and appreciate in her.

“Not like it’s your fault. I’m just looking forward to when I escape the parental affection battle and school goes back. I miss you lot, even Yuu, despite his nagging.”

“Miss you too.” He says, and even though he can’t tell her about the long-worn scars on his arms or the buzzing itch under his skin that he called to distract himself from, because she does not know, will never know, he still means it.

Will always mean it.

Even long after Ritzie hangs up the call, Lance sits there, fingernails digging into his arms where they’re crossed, and when it gets to be too much, he jumps up, forces himself into busyness by washing he dishes that lay piled high on Mavis’s counter, all the way down to their cereal bowls from the night before.

He eats a handful of dry Cheerios, pretends it’s lunch even as he ignores the sandwich sitting in the fridge, cut in triangles like he insisted on when he was little, before Mavis left home, and studiously does not cry.

It’s fine. He’s fine.

And when Mavis brings home takeout and bullies him into watching shitty old anime reruns with her, it’s almost good.

Almost… It feels like no matter what Lance does, he’s always just grasping at almost.

Two days after Lance first arrives in New York, minus the day he actually got off the plane and took his first steps into Mavis’s apartment, he reaches his breaking point.

...In a way, he’s surprised he even lasted that long.

It’s not so bad, in the morning, when Mavis doesn’t have work and drags him out of bed to walk around the neighborhood, teaches him the differences between the New York and D.C. metro systems, parades him over to the diner two blocks down and presents him cheerfully to the workers, who all know her by first name. It’s movement, noise, people, all the ingredients to the recipe for adequate distraction and entertainment. It’s nice, even with the oppressive heat of the summer sun beating down on the sidewalks, and Lance can see why his cousin treasures the home she has found here so much.

It’s in the evening, when Mavis, apologetic and reluctant, has to duck out for a short shift at the bar, that Lance finds the itch return, driving him to more frantic cleaning and fruitless pacing in an effort to forget.

He knows, really, that there’s only two options to drive away the itch— Give in, or… Well, he’s been trying to break himself of the latter habit, for the sake of Hunk’s sanity and the slowly healing marks on his arms.

On some level, Lance doesn’t know why it’s so bad this time, compared to any other. He’s been doing this for over a year now, has held himself strictly to this decision even when he’s home on the weekends and holidays, far away from Greenwood and its prying eyes, and he’s never come this tenuously close to slipping, to giving in.

He thinks, maybe, it’s the utter lack of pressures here. If he gave in at home, if he dressed and acted as he liked and found a way to lock it down every time he returned to Greenwood, his family would, in well-meaning intent, encourage him to take the clothing he loved, the things he once treasured, back with him.

They are too understanding, in a way. They’ll never be able to grasp the importance of this, of the lie he and Mavis have so delicately crafted.

But… Here? Here there’s only Mavis— Friend, cousin, coconspirator, secret-keeper. She knows. She understands why.

And so, as the hours drain away and the night creeps in, Lance finds himself falling from grace in a moment of desperate self-pity, fueled by exhaustion and resignation, and sneaking into the bathroom with the single hair bow Mavis had purchased grasped between his shaking fingers.

When he clips it on unsteadily, stepping back and squinting into the mirror, it’s all wrong, a conspicuous mark against his short hair and faded dark grey shirt. He looks more like a child playing around in his mother’s makeup drawer, metaphorically, at least, then he does like himself.

At the same time, though, even that one little piece is… Everything. The color of it, the weight of it against his skull, it’s everything to him.

“It looks nice.” Mavis’s voice rings out from the doorway, and Lance startles, turning sharply to see her reclined there, arms crossed and considering.

He hadn’t even heard her come in, he realizes. Too caught up in his elated panic over this tiny act of... something.

“It looks terrible.” He bites out, and Mavis shrugs.

“I think the color suits you.”

Lance glances back to the mirror, looking again, and for a moment he wants to ask if she really thinks so, but he shakes it off. “Doesn’t matter anyways.” He reaches to unclip it, and Mavis slides forward quickly, catching his hands in her own and staring down at them, biting her lip for a moment in an unsure, hesitant gesture.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should or should not do, Lance. But—“ She glances up ever so slightly, meeting his eyes even as she still looks down at him, the significant height difference between them never more apparent. “Nobody here can touch you. Nobody has to know.”

He blinks, pointedly ignoring the itch behind his eyes, and hesitantly looks back at his reflection, studying the splash of sky blue against his slight curls, the same as Loraine’s, even at this length.

He wants. He wants so badly, and he’s so tired of not being able to give into it.

Hesitantly, nervously, he slips one of his hands free of Mavis’s, dropping it to his side and running the edges of his fingers along the hem of his board shorts, the long fabric chaffing against the inside of his knees as it has for the last two days, heavy and unbearable.

“Could I…” Lance says quietly. “Could you bring me those shorts you bought me? Please?”

Just three weeks. Three weeks here, in this place where secrets can lay buried, and then he will go home to Veradera, and be who he needs to be once more.

Nobody needs to know.

…Right?

#spilling like an overflowing sink (voltron)#Voltron #vld fanfic #vld fanfiction #my writing

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