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suspiciouslackofclowns · 2 years

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She honestly thought she was past this. Ogling at straight girls, kissing girls who would never want anything more from her than soft touches in passing.

Robin Buckley is an experience, never a commitment.

So when her eyes start following the frills of yet another skirt, she knows she’s fucked. First Tammy, who didn’t even know she existed. Then Vicky, who would kiss her soft and make promises she couldn’t keep. Then Nancy. Who never stepped over that line, who never insinuated that she would leave Byers save for one instant after graduation.

She’d grabbed Robin’s hand after they’d thrown their caps into the sky. Rubbed the soft pad of her thumb over her knuckles. Got this earnest look in her eyes, that girl next door sparkle that Robin was starting to fall in love with — and then she said it.

“I can’t.”

And then she was dropping her hand to wander off and get her picture taken by her awkward boyfriend who had caught an overnight flight just for the occasion.

Simple. Quick. Enough to tear Robin up for a matter of weeks thereafter, only able to come out of her prolonged stupor when Steve started inviting her out again.

He told her that was just how small town dating was. She told him he didn’t understand — couldn’t understand, because he wasn’t queer. Gave him the whole speech about how easy it is for him and his lizard brain to get dates with whoever he wants, and he gave her the customary eye roll.

A handful of parties later, Robin feels like she’s made some progress on getting over… well, everything.

Then, she feels like she’s taken ten steps back when she finds herself staring at Hargrove from across the room. It’s not so much Billy that has her eye, with his primped curls and tight jeans, but more so who he has dangling off of his arm like an accessory at all times.

And that’s when she finds a new feeling to replace her sadness, to fill that pocket of loneliness in her chest.

Hatred.

“I don’t get how you can hang around that guy,” she huffs. Blows a bubble and pops it, smacking her gum right in Steve’s ear as she leans over the counter beside him. “Didn’t he try to kill you on several occasions?”

Steve huffs. Stares at the clock above the door, counting down the seconds until it’s closing time. She can’t decide if he’s amused or annoyed.

“If there was any bad blood between us, do you really think we’d be going to the same parties?”

She holds her tongue for a moment. Long enough to pinpoint the soft smile on his face, to register the gentle lilt in his tone. So she leans completely into his side and crowds him further against the register, which earns a snort.

“Guess not.”

“Why the sudden loathing? I thought you were all about looking under the surface and whatever,” he teases.

He plucks at her bracelets absently just to hear them click together, and Robin feels her brows draw down heavily.

“Something about him just… I dunno, rubs me the wrong way.”

“Afraid he’s lobbying for the position of my best friend or something?”

“No.”

“Pissed that he graduated top of your class?”

“I couldn’t care less.”

Steve eyes her in complete silence for a moment. Gentle brown eyes darting all over her face as if the answer lies in her expression.

He apparently finds it there, because his eyebrows quirk upward and he grins.

“You’re mad that he has better game than you.”

Robin scoffs.

“I am not.”

“Yes you are, you’re pissed. Oh my god.”

She leans away enough to smack his arm, which only makes him snicker at her. He turns to face her with this particular expression, arms opening around her shoulders and squeezing — and then her sneakers are leaving the floor.

“No, no! Put me down, you behemoth!”

He swings her back and forth like a stuffed animal, only setting her back down when she actually starts to resist.

“Admit that you’re jealous and I’ll let go,” he says.

“Never.”

His grip only tightens and she exhales a strained sound, lolling her head back. If Keith were to see them right now, chest to chest like this, he would write them up for PDA.

“C’mon, the sooner you confess, the sooner you can—“

“I’m not jealous of him, okay?” Robin snaps. Maybe it comes out more harshly than she meant, because Steve’s arms go lax around her. She pinches her eyes shut and takes in a large breath. “I’m pissed at myself for crushing on another straight girl — who’s clearly only into the jock types, anyway. Story of my fucking life.”

She doesn’t look. Doesn’t open her eyes, afraid that the tears will spill if she does.

Her breath hitches when she’s pulled into Steve’s chest again. This time, his hold is gentle. All encompassing. He tilts his head against hers and she finally breathes and it’s shaky, but she finds it in herself to wrap her arms around his torso in return.

“Who is it?” he coos.

She swallows thickly. Sets her chin on his shoulder and presses her lips together.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” A large hand rubs soothing circles over her back. “I’ve had worse luck with relationships than anyone, you know I have no room to judge.”

And as true as that may be, it’s still hard to say aloud. Almost like subconsciously, she fears that saying the name out loud will jinx her luck. That she’ll have another Nancy on her hands if she does.

“Heather,” she whispers.

Steve goes still for a beat.

“Holloway?”

“Mhm. Stupid, right?”

Steve stays quiet. She sighs after a moment and leans away to wipe her eyes with the heels of her palms. One of his hands stays on her shoulder. Squeezes reassuringly.

“Honestly,” he begins. Robin braces herself for the worst. “I think she’s a little… abrasive. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go for it.”

“I like how you’re implying that I’m going to ask her out.” When he just stares at her, her jaw drops. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yeah, man, why not? You never know.”

She huffs a laugh at that.

“Because what if she’s the wrong person, Steve? Her dad is the editor of the Hawkins Post — my whole life could be ruined.”

At this point she can’t recall how many times she’s had this conversation with him. How many times she’s seen that look of exasperation, like he doesn’t understand why she would be so nervous about such a thing.

And how could he? Picture perfect king of Hawkins Steve Harrington himself couldn’t know how she feels.

He still has the audacity to roll his eyes at her.

“If you change your mind, I’m always down to wingman you,” he says, then glances at his watch. “We better go or we’re gonna be late.”

Robin sighs, long and dramatic, and Steve smiles as he pats her shoulder.

“Can I change at yours?” she asks. “I don’t wanna deal with my mom right now.”

“Thought that was the plan anyway.”

He fishes his keys out of his pocket, jangling them in front of her face like a toddler. She crosses her eyes and earns a laugh.

As silly as it is, she’s a bit hopeful on the way to this party. Steve is a lot of things, but never a liar. And it turns out he has pretty good judgment when it comes to people — he can say what he wants about Tommy and Carol, but at the end of the day, he still shows up when Tommy’s crying about his latest breakup. Still drives Carol to her favorite thrift shops when she’s trying to distract herself from getting back together with Tommy.

Still, it’s hard to look at Hargrove and see anything but the snarky asshole before her. And he’s not even doing anything, really.

Just standing there with a beer in one hand and his other down the back pocket of Heather’s jeans. Jeans, for Christ’s sake. Last time Robin checked, this girl only wore her finest Sunday morning clothes everywhere.

She finds herself staring over the rim of her solo cup from across the room, only tearing her eyes away when Steve nudges her with his elbow.

He pulled on this stupid flashy windbreaker before they left the house, and as awful as it is to look at, it suits him. Makes his smile look bubbly when he flashes his teeth at her. She knows that face. Oh no. Oh no.

“If i come back out here and you’re still being a wallflower, there’s gonna be hell to pay,” he lilts.

Just barely audible over the music.

Then he’s wandering off. Weaving between people, holding his drink above their heads so it doesn’t spill. Robin’s anxiety spikes and she’s not sure if she’s more worried about Steve or herself.

When Hargrove spots him, he smiles. Is easily lured away, leaving Heather to her own devices, probably with the promise of more beer or different girls. And things are a lot less intimidating, but simultaneously worse because of Billy’s absence.

Heather’s spirit doesn’t flounder. She just starts dancing in the nearest crowd when the music changes to something more upbeat, thrumming through the air and making picture frames rattle on the walls. She moves her hips. Jumps up and down and giggles when girls in passing join her.

It’s hard for Robin to tear herself away from the wall, but she does. Sets her cup on a side table as she crosses the room and— just throws herself into the mix.

There’s lots of giggling. Lots of hand-holding with random strangers, but when Heather notices her, she reaches out. Snags Robin’s hands and intertwines their fingers, pulling her so close that she can see the fading remnants of eyeliner on her lids. This song is way more girly than anything Robin would listen to by choice, but she can’t help but grin and squeeze Heather’s hands back while they dance.

It’s freeing. Makes her feel like she’s actually making up for lost time, makes her feel like one of the girls. But then the song ends. And Heather stops.

Her chest is rising and falling, stray brown curls clinging to her skin, and one of her hands slips away from Robin’s. Reaches up with a manicured finger and readjusts a messy strand of Robin’s hair for her, so close that the only air they can breathe in is from each other.

“You want a drink?” Heather asks. Too soft.

She squeezes Robin’s hand where they’re still linked and suddenly Robin’s face is burning red.

Oh.

“Yeah,” she says, throat suddenly dry.

Robin wonders if Steve really did know what he was talking about. He was at least half right, considering Heather doesn’t seem abrasive at all. Talk about bubbly and lighthearted. Downright approachable, even.

Then, before Robin can squeeze even another quarter of a thought in, she’s being hauled through the crowd with a gentle grip. They weave between partygoers quickly, only stopping when Heather bumps into someone.

The guy is huge. Has the Tiger’s letterman jacket on his shoulders and a scowl on his face when he turns to look down at her, and Heather— Heather fixes one right back and smacks his drink out of his hand. Red liquid pools on the shag carpet, but Heather keeps walking, side-eyeing him as they pass.

There it is, Robin thinks nervously.

When they make it to the kitchen, Heather lets go so she can ladle them some punch. Bouncing softly to the music as she does.

“You came here with Harrington, right?” she asks.

“Yeah. He’s kind of my ride everywhere.”

“Nothing going on there, then?”

Heather winks at her, like it’s some inside joke. Like she knows something that no one else does. Robin swallows thickly and tries to keep her hand from shaking when she gets handed a new solo cup.

“No.”

Maybe she says it too softly, because Heather just quirks a brow at her.

“Wanna go somewhere more private to talk?” A polished fingernail traces up and down Robin’s bicep and she practically shakes free of her bones. “Go find us a room, and I’ll meet you there. I gotta powder my nose.”

All Robin can do is nod. She watches Heather down the entirety of her drink and set the empty cup on the counter, stepping around her swiftly and disappearing somewhere.

Holy shit. This is happening.

Robin has to force herself to move again. She walks up and down various halls, opening doors and checking for any stragglers. The first five rooms are occupied, and while she initially thought that the sixth might be vacant, she finds herself to be wrong when she shuts the door and flicks the light switch on.

That stupid windbreaker is on the floor… next to a leather jacket.

There’s a startled gasp and some shuffling from the bed, and Robin’s jaw is immediately on the floor when she finally looks up.

Steve, once tensed up, now relaxes. Sweeps a hand through his already messy hair and leans back against the headboard. Billy doesn’t seem to share his feelings, shoulders still bunched and eyes wide where sits near the middle of the mattress, poised to run if he has to.

“Rob, what the fuck?” Steve sighs. “You’re supposed to be out there getting a number scratched on your hand or something.”

Robin presses her back flat against the door.

“What the fuck me? What the fuck you,” she huffs. Billy looks like he’s about ready to bolt until Steve sets a comforting hand on his shoulder. “How long has this been going on?”

Steve whistles. Looks off somewhere and uses his free hand to count on his fingers.

He takes long enough for Robin to sigh and shake her head, mumbling, “Jesus, never mind. Forget I even asked.”

“I wanted to tell you,” he says. Gestures vaguely with his hand. “Just didn’t want you to… I dunno. Get mad, I guess.”

“Why would I get mad?”

Steve glances at Billy, who’s still awkwardly sitting there, but looks a little more at ease now. That makes Robin sputter out a laugh.

“C’mon, Harrington,” she says. “You know I have no room to judge.”

The air feels lighter, less tense, when Steve smiles. It’s contagious, Robin’s lips quirk up, and she has to fight the urge to stride across the room and pull him into a hug.

She would, but he’s only half-clothed at the moment.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because there’s a knock at the door, and Robin jumps away from it just in time for it to open. Heather slides in and shuts it behind her.

“Oh my god,” she breathes. And Robin tenses again, fearing the absolute worst. “Is that a hickey, Bills? You dirty slut.”

“If anyone asks, I’m telling ‘em I got it from you,” he snarks back.

Heather giggles. Grabs Robin’s hand and twists the doorknob.

“C’mon, let’s go find our own room. Preferably one without an infestation.”

Billy flips her off, but he’s smiling. Shifting closer to Steve on the bed. He’s smiling too, and Robin can’t help but spread a grin of her own as she’s guided out of the room.

Feeling like for once, things will be different.

That they’ll be okay.

#platonic stobin #buckleway #harringrove #platonic hollogrove #robin buckley #steve harrington #billy hargrove #heather holloway #my ultimate hc for Robin is that she has the worst gaydar known to man #Heather is simply That Bitch #I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now #post s4 #except everything is Okay #ficlet #my writing

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corvus--rex · 3 years

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This prologue is going on longer than I thought, but it will be over soon, probably one more short chapter. But until then, I'm so sorry, have some baby Keith angst.

one more for the Galra cat glossary: tehrl - a miniature feline (smaller than a housecat) that are kept as pets and pest control

~*~*~*~

They had been traveling for over a day, stopping only when necessary. It was night again, and Krolia sat in the carriage, watching the landscape pass by, the sleeping form of her kit curled against her side. She tucked the soft blanket around him more snugly, a tender smile on her lips as he let out a soft, contented purr and snuggled harder against his mother. One hand kept him close while the other reached under the neckline of her traveling dress to pull out the depiction of Marmora she always wore.

Marmora was the Galra central goddess. A queen of legend, she was deified after her death for having managed to unify the disparate Galra kingdoms against a common enemy. Before then, the Unilu hadn’t been thought of as a threat by anyone, the race of small, four-armed goblins more of an annoyance than anything. But they were clever, and made up for their size with numbers. They knew that to attack a place like Altea was suicide, but the constantly-warring Galra kingdoms would be far easier. Marmora called for the separate kingdoms to unify under her banner to go to war against the threat. While they tacitly agreed at first, soon the other kingdoms realized that they never would have survived without her leadership. The Unilu were soundly defeated and Marmora led the Galra to a new age for their race, one that had continued for generations.

Krolia ran her thumb across the relief set into her medallion. The ancient Galra queen stood proudly, her sword-bearing arm held high, the other holding a ball of violet flame. She stared at it, drawing some comfort from her ancestor before letting the pendant drop. She turned back to the carriage’s small window and watched the land change from the deep, dark woods of Daibazaal to the green forests of Altea. It would take at least another two days of travel to reach the capitol. They would arrive exhausted from their journey and she could only hope that she would reach it before any messenger from Zarkon and that King Alfor would welcome them.

The little prince had no trouble keeping himself occupied during his waking hours, something Krolia was infinitely grateful for. He still believed that they were on a surprise vacation and that they would be meeting his father somewhere along the way. She kept it to herself, but she had felt their bond snap when they were not far from the castle. She knew what the stretch of distance felt like, the pain of longing for her mate when they were separated by royal duty. This was not that. This was a ship’s line breaking, the thick rope hitting her like a whip’s crack. This was glass shattering on a stone floor, glittering shards spread wide. It left her raw and bleeding, with a deep ache for a mate she would never see again. Krolia let herself feel it only in the dark of night, where she would wrap herself in her voluminous cloak tighter, hold her kit closer, and let the tears fall silently.

Another full day of traveling through Altea, and Keith was beginning to become bored of the endless carriage ride. Leaving his coloring on the floor, he climbed onto the seat and into his mother’s lap, immediately finding the soft fur of his tail and running his tiny claws through it.

“Where are we going, Mama?” he asked. “When are we gonna get there? Where’s Papa?”

Krolia sighed. She knew her kit’s inquisitive nature wouldn’t stay quiet for long and that she would have to tell him sooner rather than later. She decided that answering his questions in order would be best.

“We’re going to Altea, little one. We should be there around this time tomorrow.” She paused, knowing that there were parts of their last night in their home that weren’t for little ears. “Your Papa – he’s – I’m so sorry, kit. Your Papa won’t be coming with us.”

Keith was too young to understand what his mother wasn’t saying. “Why?” he asked innocently, “Did Papa hafta go on a trip again?” He was familiar with his father’s diplomatic meetings, sometimes in places far from the Daibazaal capitol and their home.

Krolia sighed again, willing her tears back. “No, kit. There are bad people in our home now, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to go back. We’re going to Altea to ask for their help. Your Papa sacrificed himself so we could get away safely.”

The kit’s face screwed up in confusion. “What bad people? And what’s sa…sack-if-iced?”

“People your Papa and I thought we trusted. One of the generals of our army, Zarkon. He wants to rule Daibazaal himself instead of your Papa. He decided to take what he wanted, and your Papa died so we can be safe.”

Keith only had a vague understanding of death. His only encounter with it had been when his pet tehrl died after being poisoned by an angry former member of castle staff. Their dismissal, to no one’s surprise, had been due to behavioral problems and killing the small prince’s beloved pet had earned them a stay in the city jail for a few months. Keith at first couldn’t understand why the miniature feline wouldn’t play with him like it always did. But his guard sent for the queen, and Krolia explained that the tiny cat had died and what that meant. She allowed her small kit to hold something of a funeral for the animal, but his child’s attention span moved on to something else not long after, even though she knew he still missed his companion. It seemed that the meaning of death hadn’t progressed in his mind beyond his lost pet, and it was a concept he couldn’t quite apply to his father.

“You remember Rrahr?”

Keith nodded, thinking back to finding his tehrl motionless on the floor by its food dish. Something clicked, and he looked up at his mother, eyes wide. “Is that what happened to Papa?” he asked, his voice trembling, “Did the bad people hurt my Papa so he can’t come back?” His ears flattened and his tail dropped, suddenly afraid of his mother’s answer.

“They did. I am so sorry, little one. Your Papa’s not coming back.”

Violet eyes quickly filled with tears that spilled over, leaving dark stains running down the fine, soft fur, and he scrambled in his mother’s lap, throwing his arms around her neck, sobs racking his small body. Krolia held him, running her claws through his hair, trying to hold it together for him. But she couldn’t, not in the face of her son’s innocence, and held him tightly while her own tears fell, privately mourning the loss of King Davvik in the roles he cherished most; those of beloved Alpha and mate to Krolia, and the devoted and loving father to his young son. She held Keith until his sobs subsided into hiccupped tears and finally into the even breath of sleep. When she was sure she wouldn’t wake him, Krolia tucked herself against the back of the deep velvet cushion and wrapped her thick cloak around her sleeping kit, and let sleep take her as well.

Keith was withdrawn and quiet for their last day of travel. His toys and pencils couldn’t hold his attention, and he sat beside Krolia, arms wrapped around his stuffed rakhai and stared out the window. He only perked up the smallest amount when they entered Altea’s capitol. He saw the glowing white spires of the castle and turned to his mother, tugging on her sleeve.

“Is that where we’re going, Mama?” he asked quietly.

Krolia nodded. “Yes, it is, kit. We haven’t been stopped by the city guard, so it looks like we’re safe for now. I’ll need to talk to King Alfor and then I’ll know what’s going to happen, alright?”

Keith sniffled, burying his face in his favorite stuffed animal. “I want Papa,” he said through a new round of tears.

Krolia picked him up, hugging him in her lap. “I know, kit. I do too. We’ll just have to take our home back for him.” The combination of finally arriving in Altea’s capitol city and her son’s grief gave her new determination. Queen Krolia of Daibazaal would reclaim her throne, restore Marmora’s line, and ensure that no one would ever forget what happened that night.

~*~*~*~

Intro | Prologue pt 1 | Prologue pt 2

#my writing #galtean klance #royal klance #Prince Keith #Prince Lance #galra keith #altean lance #magic #Keith is a purple kitty #Lance is a brat #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #keith x lance #abo #omegaverse #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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vldkeith · 3 years

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keithtober💢🎃🌟 day 9: blade of marmora🆖🚮👎❌🚫

a/n: fuck the bom all my besties hate the bom

🔗read on ao3

content included: anti-bom propaganda, klance, some suggestive themes. lance rlly likes keith's bom uniform 👀

🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢

“You know that outfit drives me crazy,” Lance drawls from his place on the bed, sprawled out Keith walks around and tidies things up.

He’s wearing his Blade uniform; he’s fresh out of a one-off mission for them, done at the behest of Shiro who said that the intel on Zarkon would be more easily gotten if they used the Blade’s resources rather than Voltron’s. Keith had consented to go, albeit grudgingly; he’s not keen on returning to the Blade of Marmora, after how isolated and anxious his brief stint with them had been before, but this mission lasted only a week, and the worst part of it wasn’t the mental and physical strain, but rather just that he sorely missed his boyfriend the whole time.

His boyfriend. Tingling excitement still covers Keith’s body when he thinks things like that about Lance.

“Keeeeeith,” Lance whines, and Keith turns to see him sitting up, finally, and giving Keith a pointed look. “You’re hot.”

Keith laughs, pressing a hand to his face to try to cover any blush that might sprout. Suddenly the Blade uniform feels impossibly tight, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“Shut up,” Keith mumbles, turning back to…whatever it was he was doing, he can’t remember now, and ignoring the wistful sigh Lance gives as he does.

“Baby…” Lance says, his voice dipping low into sweet, honeyed tones. Keith straightens up, feeling his adrenaline spike; he’s still a sucker when Lance talks like that. “C’mere.”

Sighing with exaggerated exasperation, Keith relents and crosses back to the bed, planting himself in front of Lance with folded arms. “Yes?”

Lance wordlessly pulls him down, running his hands across the dark fabric pulled taut around Keith’s muscles and resting them against the glowing plates across his chest.

“Pretty boy…” he says—whispers—in a voice so full of adoration it makes Keith spark scarlet and pull his hood up, hiding his face. Lance laughs, light and musical. “Hey! Come back out.”

Slowly, Keith does so, glaring playfully and still tinged a dusty pink. Lance hums a little, thumbs across Keith’s cheek; Keith leans into him like a cat.

“It’s a lot more fun to see you in this outfit when I know you’re not going anywhere,” Lance comments, using his other hand to lift one of Keith’s gloved ones and pressing a kiss onto it.

“It’s more fun for me too.” The outfit does make Keith feel kind of cool; cooler than the Voltron armor does, anyway. “But shut up, you’re being so cheesy.”

Lance flashes Keith a grin and, without saying anything, tugs Keith further onto the bed, rolling them both over so that he’s on top, hovering over him. Keith’s body goes hot, and he instinctively closes his thighs around Lance’s middle, drawing a smug chuckle from his boyfriend.

“Fine, I’ll stop being cheesy,” Lance says, leaning in close, “if you’ll let me enjoy this uniform a little more.”

“You’re hopeless,” Keith replies, though he tightens his legs further; Lance swallows. “But, sure. Feel free to rip it off, I’d love to make the Blade pay for a new one.”

The last thing Keith hears before Lance is crowding in on him and capturing his lips in a searing kiss is the happy, melodic tune of his laugh, something that further cements to Keith that he made the right decision in rejecting the Blade altogether. If the most the Blade of Marmora impacts his life is through sporadic short missions and a uniform that drives his boyfriend wild, Keith thinks he’ll deem it a success.

🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢🎃🔪💢

☕️ko-fi - so i can spread my anti-bom propaganda further >:)

#keith kogane #keithtober2021 #klance #voltron #vld keith #renfic

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scabopolis · 3 years

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Congrats on 600 followers!!!! How about Logan/Veronica and "Are you doubting my acting skills?" and/or any one of your 76 Danielle/Henry modern AUs?

Oh, Sarah, I’d do anything for you! I will eventually write a Danielle/Henry modern AU and it shall be dedicated to you, but for now, here is some Logan/Veronica friends to lovers inspired fake dating setup shenanigans.

--- Title: look at me like you like me Fandom: Veronica Mars Pairing: Logan/Veronica (side Wallace/Parker) Other Characters: Wallace, Parker, a frequent switching of tenses b/c this is barely edited. Additional Tags: Should be a multichapter probably, friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, Wallace sees all and knows all Word Count: ~1,800 ---

Sitting at brunch, her plate piled high with pancakes, Veronica Mars wonders just how long her best-friend thought he could get away with this. Logan Echolls (said best-friend) is currently walking slowly back and forth in front of the restaurant as he talks on his phone. He isn’t speaking, which means his mother is in the middle of a persuasive monologue. And everyone at their table knows what that means.

“Charity gala?” Wallace asks.

“My money’s on a distant relative’s wedding,” Parker says.

“His parent’s anniversary is coming up,” Veronica says. “Could be their own party.”

“What will they celebrate?” Wallace asks. “Ten years of sleeping in separate rooms and ignoring one another’s affairs?”

“Regardless, I’m ready,” Parker says.

Okay. Apparently Veronica’s isn’t the only one thinking about Logan’s go-to family event strategy. “You think he’ll ask you?”

Parker frowns as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Veronica draws a line in the air, connecting Wallace and Parker. “Well, for one, you’re married now.”

“The people at these parties don’t know that,” Parker answers.

The woman has a point. Veronica turns to Wallace. “And you’re okay with this?”

“We’re living on two teacher’s salaries. If some wealthy man wants to be my wife’s platonic sugar daddy, who am I to stop him?”

“I wanted to buy a new dress for your brother’s graduation anyway,” Parker says.

“See! Perfect plan.” Wallace and Parker seal their agreement with a kiss and Veronica focuses on her pancakes. She cuts off a large bite with more force than strictly required and shovels the pancakes into her mouth.

She isn’t sure why this whole conversation needles her. Something about Parker’s certainty, Veronica supposes. That it is going to be Parker who Logan calls on. To be fair, Parker and Logan’s arrangement pre-dates Veronica’s friendship with either of them.

By the time Veronica met Parker their first year of grad school, Parker and Logan had been friends for four years. The pattern wherein Parker pretended to be Logan’s girlfriend at any and all society events his mother required him to attend was already well-established. Even after Veronica and Logan met, and it was quickly evident the two of them were destined to be platonic soulmates for the rest of their lives, it was still Parker that Logan turned to for help in these situations. Which, fair. Parker possesses levels of grace which Veronica can never hope to achieve.

Veronica is much more apt to give a Hollywood director in his fifties judgey facial expressions when he introduces her to his barely legal wife. (A real thing that happened at an Echolls family BBQ. At least it still makes Logan laugh all these years later.)

It just didn’t occur to Veronica that it would always be Parker. Especially now that Parker is married. What is going to happen when she and Wallace decide to have a baby? How will they prevent word of Logan Echolls’ pregnant girlfriend from making the tabloid rounds?

No. This is ridiculous.

“She’s definitely not listening,” Wallace says, disapprovingly.

“Some sort of fugue state?” Parker suggests.

“Could be.”

Veronica sighs. “What are you two talking about?”

“I wanted to know if it was all pancakes in general you seek to destroy, or if this one in particular had done something to upset you?”

Her first instinct is to glare at Wallace. And then at Parker when she sniggers. Introducing the two of them to one another is the worst decision she’s ever made. But then she looks down at her plate. Sure enough, at some point she traded in eating her pancakes for cutting them into smaller pieces and then smushing them into the maple syrup. They no longer resemble an edible object.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sure,” Wallace says, taking a well-timed sip of his coffee. His expression is all smug and knowing.

Veronica is saved from additional Wallace stares and Parker sniggers by the return of Logan. He slides his phone into his blazer pocket and sits down beside Veronica, resting his arm on the back of Veronica’s chair. This is nothing new. Being best-friends with Logan means being comfortable with his rather tactile nature. But the look Logan’s action invites from Wallace is new. Veronica wants to spit at him. (Wallace. Not Logan.)

(Portrait of grace, indeed.)

“What happened here?” Logan asks, gesturing to Veronica’s pancakes.

“Nothing,” Veronica says. “What happened out there?”

Logan’s fingers still from where he is lightly tracing the contours of her shoulder. “My mom and dad are renewing their vows.”

For a moment all movement at their table ceases as they each take in this information. This despite Veronica's keen awareness of the fact that her guess was eerily close to being right.

“I’m sorry. What?” she asks.

“That was about my reaction,” Logan says. “Want my bacon?”

“Yes, please. They can’t be serious.”

Logan slides his slices of bacon onto Veronica’s plate. “Serious about drumming up some positive PR, absolutely. Aaron was spotted looking a little too friendly with a married co-star. So, he and mom are going on a romantic getaway to Italy. When they get back they’ll do a backyard vow renewal.”

“Logan—”

The man in question holds up a hand, stopping Parker’s softly spoken entreaty.

“No. I can’t do the talking about it thing right now. I can’t feel anything about it right now. What I need is a wedding date.”

“Of course,” Parker rushes to answer. “Just tell me when.”

“The weekend of June 11th.”

“Absolutely. Deal,” Parker says, nodding enthusiastically. “Consider it—,” she trails off, her gaze somewhere over Veronica’s shoulder.

“Consider it, what?” Logan asks.

“—Not something I can do.”

“Why not?”

“That’s graduation weekend,” Parker explains. “I’m the faculty speaker.”

“I’ll buy you shoes, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Logan says. “This way I can get very drunk and not feel bad about it.”

Logan’s arm returns to the back of Veronica’s chair. This time his hand sort of hangs over her shoulder and curls around towards her clavicle. It makes it impossible to ignore details about Logan’s hands — the surprising delicacy of his fingers, the length of them, the weird knot on one of his knuckles.

“I’ll do it,” Veronica says.

“Do what?” Logan asks.

“Be your fake girlfriend for the sham vow renewal. I can do it.”

She refuses to look at anyone at the table. Not Parker. Sure as hell not Wallace.

(Seriously. Does he know something? Was it that night they all played King’s Cup and the two of them stayed up talking until 3:00 AM? Did she say something she wasn’t supposed to?)

And absolutely not Logan. She scrapes the edges of the smushed pancake with the tines of her fork.

“Veronica.” Logan’s voice is soft, but she detects a hint of incredulity. Which, maybe she’s wrong and he isn’t her best-friend and he doesn’t know her very well, because it raises her hackles.

She drops her fork. “What? Why not?”

“Look, I love you. You know I love you.” Veronica ignores the little skitter of her pulse at Logan’s words, furrows her brow, and concentrates on being offended. “And you know me better than anyone.”

“But?” She prompts.

“But,” he says, “you don’t really—”

Before Logan can finish, she comes up with a dozen ways to complete the sentence. There is plenty she doesn’t have —the class, the patience, the height, the sweetness, the glamor, the—

“—look at me like you like me,” Logan finishes.

“Wait. What?” Veronica’s eyes dart from Logan to Wallace to Parker. Neither one of them appear surprised by Logan’s words. In fact, Parker is faintly nodding in agreement. “Of course I like you. You’re my favorite person.” She thinks about this. “When you’re not being a total asshole.”

“I know that. But, your face makes it look like you want to slap me most of the time.”

“Because I do.”

“It’s just not the most conducive to convincing my mother to not set me up with the daughter of whichever producer she is trying to impress.”

“I’ll change my face.”

“Change it?”

“I can look like I like you.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been in love before, you know.” Veronica’s hackles are now standing at full attention. “Are you doubting my acting skills?”

“I would never,” Logan says.

“Good. Because I could be the sweetest goddamned fake girlfriend you’ve ever had.” Veronica turns to Parker. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I’ll even use pet names. Schmoopsie. Snuggle muffin. Sweet cheeks. What’s your preference?”

“My preference is none of them.”

Still, despite his words, Logan seems to consider it. Veronica takes the time to nibble on one of the slices of bacon from Logan’s plate. If she isn’t mistaken, Parker and Wallace kept shooting each other, what they probably believe to be, covert glances. What are those glances supposed to mean? Does Parker know something too? Damned married couples with their telling each other things.

“My mom does love you,” Logan eventually says.

“See, I already have a leg up,” Veronica says. “And I can absolutely rock a floor length gown.”

“Can you?”

“I was on homecoming court senior year.”

“You were?” She’s not certain which of the voices speaking in unison sound more shocked, Logan’s or Parker’s, but regardless she is deeply offended. She’ll look classy and hot as hell and that will show them.

“Yeah,” Wallace says, “Keith still has the picture hanging up in his house. It’s hilarious.” Veronica glares at him. “Hilarious, because of how great you look. Obviously.”

“I don’t want to make you do this,” Logan says.

Veronica doesn’t have time to question why he would make Parker do this but for some reason wants to spare her.

“Hey.” She reaches up for the hand still draped over her shoulder and laces their fingers together. Logan looks down at her. His eyes are all soft and heavy lidded; like they sometimes get when he’s sleepy.

(She’s also noticed they can kind of look like that when she’s ranting about a coworker. Or, that one time she helped her dad install a fence and came over to Logan’s place after. Her hands were full of splinters and Logan was so careful and gentle, removing each one with a very expensive pair of tweezers.)

“This is going to suck. Isn’t it?” she asks.

He nods. “Yeah. I think it will.”

“Then let me be there for you.” He doesn’t say anything. “I’ll work on my face. Promise.”

That gets him to crack a smile. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Then great.”

“Great.”

“Did I just get replaced?” Parker asks.

Veronica shrugs. “I like nice shoes too, you know.”

Logan gives her hand a squeeze.

Oh. Look at that. She didn��t even notice they were still holding hands.

#vm fanfic #lv fanfic #veronica mars #logan echolls #logan x veronica #p: logan x veronica #otp: the one person #lavellenchanted #never stories

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actress4him · 3 years

Text

Bonus Whumptober Content

I had no plans originally of continuing the story from Whumptober Day 28. As far as I was concerned, it ended badly and that was that.

But you can all thank @outtacommission , because I was bribed into continuing it!

If you need a refresher on the original chapter, click the link above or read it on AO3.

This is the start of the new content, which ended up being super long, so I broke it up into three short chapters. I’m really excited and nervous to share this. Writing sequels for oneshots that weren’t originally supposed to be continued is...tough. This is the second time I’ve done it, and I always feel like the continuation isn’t as good as the original. But I’m pretty happy with how this turned out, so I hope that you guys enjoy it, too!

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Warnings: (big spoilers!) needles, implied CPR, broken bones, blood, brain damage, paralysis, amputation, panic attacks

“Quiznak. Oh, holy quiznak, Keith?”

“He’s not breathing. I’ve got no pulse.”

“Hold him steady, I’m cutting the back of this chair off so we can get to the shrapnel.”

“Come on, Keith. Breathe. Breathe!”

“Look, I found this in Red’s first aid kit. I’m a universal donor.”

“Get it hooked up, he needs everything we can give him.”

“Please, Keith. Please.”

“Shiro, his ribs…”

“I know. They’ll heal.”

“Wait! Look!”

“Oh my g-...okay. Okay. Hurry, let’s get him to the Black Lion. I’ll need you to ride with him so you can keep up the transfusion.”

“Right behind you.”

Consciousness came in spurts. The first time, he surfaced from the never-ending blackness to nothing but cold and pain, and the feeling that his insides were twisted into a big knot and trying their best to exit his body. As he retched, body automatically jerking to try to sit up or roll over and sending even more pain shooting through him, frantic voices surrounded him.

“...reaction...blood…!”

“But...O neg...shouldn’t…”

Somebody scooped him up like a baby and ran, jarring his screaming abdomen with every step, before depositing him onto a semi-soft surface.

“...Galra…”

“...sample...synthesize more…”

The words meant nothing to him. All he knew was pain and nausea, and a blur of lights and movement above him.

Just before he passed out again, there was a sharp prick in his forearm that momentarily drew his attention away from the rest of the pain. He couldn’t find the energy to protest it.

The second time, voices were the first to filter in, hushed tones that sounded as if they were speaking a foreign language. His eyes fluttered open, but the bright lights overhead made him wince and squeeze them back shut.

“You’re okay,” someone soothed, the only words he could actually pick out from among the rest. “You’ll be just fine. Go back to sleep, now.”

There was a prick on the back of his hand, and he whimpered involuntarily. But a moment later the nothingness was taking back over, and he gladly slipped underneath.

The next time he woke, he had no recollection of the first two times, or of anything that happened before, but for some reason he was surprised to be waking up. Somehow, he didn’t think he was going to do so. But here he was, awake. Only, he had no idea where here was.

“Keith? Bud? You with us?”

He knew that voice. Turning his head toward it, he willed his eyes to open, and after a moment, they obeyed. A blur of yellow and brown met him.

“Hey, bud! It’s good to see those eyes open. Can you hear me?”

Keith blinked, trying to bring the person into focus. Once their features had solidified enough that he could make out dark brown eyes and a smile, he licked his chapped lips and attempted to speak.

“Hunk.” For some reason the N dragged on for much longer than he had intended, but it was a word, regardless.

“Yeah! That’s me! Oh my gosh, you have no idea how happy I am that you’re awake and okay.”

How long had he been asleep? It must have been a while for Hunk to be worried. And he was pretty sure he felt okay, though maybe a bit numb overall. Maybe he really had been asleep for a long time. It kinda felt like he was waking up after one of those naps you take while you’re sick and your fever breaks in the middle of it.

He licked his lips again, to no avail. “‘hirsty.”

“Yep, yep, I’m sure you are.” Hunk turned and snatched something up off a nearby table, bringing it toward Keith’s face. “Here ya go. Small sips.”

The water was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted in his life. He wanted to gulp it all down, ignoring what he had been told, but Hunk pulled it away after only a couple of seconds.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get Shiro and Fallenta and let them know you’re awake, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Keith struggled to process that sentence. He didn’t think he recognized one of those names, and he still couldn’t figure out why him being awake was such a big deal. Unless...he had gotten hurt in one of their fights. But then why wouldn’t he be waking up from the pod, not in whatever bed this was?

“Wha...happened?” His words continued to come out strangely, despite his best efforts. Maybe he had been sleeping on his face, because it was one of those numb parts of him that didn’t seem to want to move properly.

Hunk froze at the doorway, turning slowly to face him. “Um...what do you remember?”

It was a good question. Wrinkling his brow, he searched his still half-dazed mind, trying and failing to grasp at the snippets of memories that danced by. It didn’t take long for his head to start hurting, and he shut his eyes, giving up for the moment. “Don’t know. A fight?” He had a vague recollection of being in Red recently. “In the Lions?”

“Um, yeah, well, that’s...one thing that happened.” Hunk seemed nervous, fidgeting with his hands. “I’m gonna go, um, get the others, and they can tell you everything, ‘kay?” Without giving Keith a chance to protest, he disappeared through the door.

Keith sighed, and tested out various parts of his body. Other than most of his right side being curiously numb, and an almost unnoticeable ache in a couple more places, everything seemed to be working properly. He had been in Red right before waking up there...right? Maybe she could tell him what was going on.

Only when he closed his eyes and reached for their connection, he came up empty. There was nothing there. No hum, no purr, nothing. His heart leapt into his throat. Red! Red, where are you? What if something had happened to her? What if she was gone? What if he had done something to make her reject him, and he wasn’t even a paladin anymore, what if that’s what Hunk didn’t want to tell him? If he wasn’t a paladin anymore, then he’d...he’d be nothing. Useless. There would be absolutely no reason for him to be in the Castle anymore, in space at all. The other paladins would take him back to Earth and dump him off, and he’d have no one and nothing yet again.

The door opened, and Keith shot upright, ignoring the way it made his head swim and that ache in his ribs twinge. “I can’t feel Red! I can’t...what happened? Where’s Red?”

“Hey! Hey, shh, Keith, it’s okay!” Shiro was across the room in an instant, sitting down on the side of the bed and grasping Keith’s shoulders in both his hands. “I need you to calm down for me, okay? I’ll explain, but I need you to take deep breaths.”

Drawing in one such breath to appease the man, Keith glanced around the room, taking in Hunk’s worried expression and the alien stranger that stood on the other side of his bed. “Somebody please just tell me what's going on.” The words were still slurred, which was getting more frustrating by the second. “Why’m I here?”

He hated the look that Shiro shot up at the alien before catching his eyes again. They were treating him like a fragile child. Even when he was a child, he had gotten more bad news in his few years than most adults did in their whole lives, so it wasn’t like he didn’t always expect more.

“You were in an accident,” Shiro finally explained, still speaking far too slowly and softly. “You and Red got hit with a zaiforge cannon and crashed into a nearby planet. Do you remember?”

Keith already knew he didn’t, so he wasn’t going to waste time searching his memory when he still wanted answers. “Where’s Red? Is she okay?”

Offering a sympathetic smile, Shiro squeezed his shoulder with his flesh hand. “She’s in rough shape. All her systems are shut down right now. But Pidge and Coran and Hunk have been working on her, and they’re optimistic that everything can be fixed. With time.”

Letting all his breath out with a whoosh, Keith slumped over forward. It was simultaneous good news and bad news. Red hadn’t rejected him, or at least he didn’t think so. But he hated that she was so badly hurt. “I wanna see her.”

Shiro’s smile twitched up a little higher. “I know. But first, we need to check on you. You’ve been unconscious for quite a while. Everything seems to have healed up alright, but there were some things that couldn’t be tested while you were out.”

As if this was their cue, the alien - an objectively pretty, willowy creature with mauve fur, four long, thin arms, and a myriad of long, thin fingers on each hand - stepped forward. Their voice was light and feminine, and had a lilting accent that reminded him of Lance when he fell into his native tongue.

“I am going to give you some simple instructions to follow, okay?”

Keith frowned. “Who ‘re you?”

“Oh, yes, right.” Shiro indicated the newcomer with one hand. “This is Fallenta. She’s a Tellimite. They’re one of the most medically advanced species in the universe. We wanted to make sure you had the best care possible, so Allura brought us to Tellima as soon as we had you in the pod. Fallenta has been...indispensable.”

His explanation only caused Keith more confusion. If he had been in a pod, then why did he need a doctor? And again, why was he in some bed now?

Seeming to sense his questions, Fallenta smiled and settled down opposite Shiro. “There were some...complications from your injuries. Coran and Shiro made the right call by placing you into a healing pod right away, knowing that it was the only way to save your life, but that meant that your bones that were broken could not be reset before healing. One of my jobs was to correct this once your abdomen wound was no longer life threatening.”

“Yes, you actually had two different stints in the pod,” Shiro nodded. His brow furrowed. “Well, three, if you count the time that your body rejected the blood Pidge had given you and started trying to shut down. Thankfully, Coran had those samples he took from all of us at the beginning, and was able to synthesize some more of yours.”

Keith couldn’t stand the troubled expression on Shiro’s face, especially since he had been the one to put it there. Lifting his left arm, he gently squeezed his brother’s elbow. “I’m okay now.”

Shiro smiled, but there was a sheen to his eyes. “You have no idea how relieved I am about that.”

“Your cognition seems to be just fine,” Fallenta said, “and losing memory of the traumatic event is not uncommon. There are a few other things I need to check, though.”

She spent the next few minutes shining a flashlight into his eyes, asking him some questions about things that happened prior to the accident, getting him to remember a short list of objects, and observing his reactions to various movements and sounds. All of it led Keith to believe that it was his brain being tested, and it made him nervous. No one would tell him anything else, though, simply repeating that they would explain everything shortly.

It seemed to be going well, though, and everyone was smiling and calm, so he tried not to let it get to him. Until Fallenta moved on to testing sensations. She started on his left arm, lightly touching it with her finger, then poking her claw into his skin, then digging in her knuckle. Everything felt like it should.

“Alright, the right arm, now.” She smiled at him and held his gaze, but after a moment of nothing further happening, her smile faded into a neutral expression. Another moment, and he was wondering why she hadn’t done the test yet.

“Do you feel any of this, Keith?”

“What?” He looked down, and her finger was on his forearm. As he watched, she moved it up and down his arm, tapping lightly. He swallowed hard. “It's...it's been really numb e’er since I woke up. My face an’ leg, too.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shiro stiffen. “What does that mean?”

Fallenta smiled again, and as nice of a smile as it was, he was beginning to hate it. “Let’s complete the tests, and I will be able to tell you more. Can you feel this?”

This time he watched as she pricked him with her claw, and to his relief, there was a faint jolt of pain. “A little. It's muted, though.”

“That’s good. And this?” She used her knuckle that time, and again, the pressure was faint.

“Same. What's wrong with my arm?” he demanded, glaring first at her, then Shiro. “Why can’t I talk right?”

“Have patience -”

“No!” Keith yanked his arm away from her with far more effort than should have been required. “I'm out of patience! Tell me what's wrong!”

Shiro put a hand on Fallenta’s shoulder, nodded at her, then reached forward and took Keith’s hand. “When we found you…” He paused, his jaw clenching and eyes flicking away for a split second before he seemed to steel himself to continue. “Your heart had stopped. It’s impossible to say how long you had been like that. I was able to get it started again, but it took a few minutes. So your brain…” Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out in a sigh. “It was without oxygen for several minutes, at the least. Brain damage has been a concern from the very start. When I said you have no idea how relieved I am that you’re okay...it was possible that you wouldn’t ever wake up. Or if you did, that you wouldn’t be able to function at all.” An errant tear slipped out, and he dashed it away with his metal hand. “But you’re here. You’re awake, and you can speak and think and...and it’s gonna be okay. I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

Brain damage? The words hit him like a blow to the chest. That meant his arm...his face...they weren’t just numb, they were...they were…

He ripped his hand from Shiro’s grip. “How can you say it's gonna be okay? Do you hear me? I soun’ stupid! An’ my arm...how’m I supposed to fight an’ fly if I can barely move my arm?”

“But you still have some movement and sensation,” Fallenta broke in. “That is very good news. It means that, with physical therapy, you can regain even more use. You can even have speech therapy to help you build up your facial muscles.”

“Speech therapy?” He almost laughed at that. “We’re in the middle of a war, we don’ have time for speech therapy!”

Shiro’s hand landed on his leg. “We’ll make it work, Keith.”

“No. No.” He shook his head harshly. “Get off. Get off me, I need...” Flailing his one good hand toward Shiro and Fallenta, he gritted his teeth against the tears that wanted to fall. The weight on either side of the bed moved as the two of them stood. “I need some air. I need...” Red, that’s what he needed. He reached for the corner of the blanket that covered his legs. “I’m gonna -”

“Keith, wait!”

Shiro and Hunk both lunged, but it was too late. He had already flipped the blanket to the side, revealing what lay underneath.

Or rather, what didn’t lay underneath.

He was gonna be sick.

His leg. It was…it was missing from the knee down.

Keith screamed.

The next minutes or hours were a blur of tears and pain in his chest and breaths that wouldn’t come. He vaguely recalled Shiro being in front of him, his lips moving but no sound coming out. He vaguely recalled thrashing and slamming his head into the wall behind him.

After that, though, the nothingness took back over.

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

Text

Kisses Like Wine: Part 3

In honor of the new photo, I think I will post this now. :)

Warnings: Nothing, the reader remains a blank canvass. Might have cursing.

Summary: The reader is working undercover where she things the next heist will be, while trying to figure out the Thief's ways…

Note: There really are diamonds in all these colors! I spent way too much time looking it up.

“Joe F. Gambrel and Co., how may I direct your call?” I shifted in my seat a little. The chair was not that uncomfortable, but I felt like I was definitely out of my comfort zone. I listened to the person on the other side, put them on hold. Started an email to my boss. Took them off hold. “I am so sorry. Mr. Larsen is in a meeting, may I take a message?” I typed the message in the email, hung up, hit send.

This was the shape of my day. Take messages for my reprobate boss, who was never in the office, and try to look like someone else. Act like someone else.

And, most of all, case the joint. I wondered, briefly, if the Thief ever called his work that…casing the joint. Probably not. He did not look like someone who used twenties gangster slang.

As I wandered the office suite, I hoped I was not wasting my time. I was working for a high end antiquities firm. If you wanted something, they got it for you. They did not have a lot of staff, and the bosses seemed to be out of the office more than not. The floors directly below me were home to a large business dedicated to restoration.

I’d been studying, and I was ninety nine percent sure that this was the next place the Thief would break into. The crown was — just a crown. Pretty, historied. I suspect he took it because he could, not because he wanted it. After all, it had been right there.

No. He had come for the Star. Almost a half a year prior, someone had stolen The Golden Queen. And now, if I had guessed right, he would be coming for a incredibly rare, beautiful pink diamond called The Compass Rose.

I went and looked at it, not for the first time. At the top floor of the high rise, the company — and Keith Larsen — kept the Compass Rose on display in an act of hubris that was sure, if Greek Myth was any indication, to anger some God eventually. It was in a huge room, the ceiling was all glass that arched up to a sharp point that was illuminated at night. The floor was marble, the walls a warm sandstone. Four benches, one on each side of the pillar that held the diamond’s display case. One wall held a fountain and greenery, meant to look like a small, exotic waterfall. The water trickled softly as I went as close to the case as I dared. And there. The largest pink diamond that had ever been discovered in Australia, glittering deep rose. It was one of a kind.

My thief was collecting a full set. There were three diamonds, including this one, in Midas’s Rainbow that the thief had not stolen.

He could have gone after one of the other ones. I could be wrong.

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. I had bribed my way in, under a new name with a perfectly wrought set of identification papers, even a credit card. I dyed my hair and carefully applied my make up so that I made my face a little different. So if I ran into him, he wouldn’t immediately know it was me. It was not, probably the best plan, but my training consisted of books and watching Leverage.

I was staring at it too long, the security guard peeked in.

“Miss?” The security guard peeked in. Older man, with warm, friendly eyes and a lovely voice that seemed not to match his age. We’d spoken a few times on my daily check of the diamond. No one was allowed to be in the room too long, and he was gently reminding me it was time to go.

I went out the door, leaned against the wall next to him, and asked the question that I’d been asking myself for weeks, since I started working here. “If you were going to steal the Compass Rose, how would you go about it?”

He stared at me for so long I thought he was going to go report me. “That’s not a smart question to be asking, around here.”

“There’s no harm, though.” I said. His voice bothered me. I wanted more, if I could listen to it a little longer…

He shook his head and didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry if I offended.”

He gave me a gentle smile, touched his ear and pointed to a corner of the room. Then he shooed me towards the door.

Back at my desk I snuck out my steno notebook from its hiding place in a stack of unused notebooks in my desk drawer. It was where I kept my plans. Layout of the building. Everything I learned. Since my purse could get searched at any time, I only had it at work. One steno pad looks like all the others, right? Locked in my drawer, under a box of tampons.

The fountain has to be the way in. There needs to be a way to service the pipes behind the wall.

If I could break something in the fountain without getting caught, someone would have to fix it. Someone would have to open the door or the hatch, and I’d know how to get in.

And the thief always liked distractions. But what kind of distraction would he manage to create?

My work day ended, I grabbed my purse, made sure my desk was locked, and started out.

“Honey?” The first front desk receptionist called after me.

I smiled and crossed over.

“I just wanted to remind you, tomorrow they are bussing in a bunch of high school students to tour the floors so they can see what it takes to restore old art.” She smiled at me. “You’ll want to make sure to get here early before they get here…it’s going to be a madhouse.”

Cue distraction.

The next day I went to see the madhouse for myself. I wanted to see the teachers. Most were women. I didn’t discount them completely, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t shave his mustache if he could avoid it. There. Curly, dark hair. Tweed jacket with elbow patches. What century did he think this was? I followed him as he ushered bored looking kids, careful not to let me see his face. Finally I went around a dented suit of armor and managed to get face to face with him. “Hey!” I said cheerfully.

It wasn’t him. Eyes too far apart, nose too small, just not him.

I apologized and walked off just as one of the teachers asked, brightly, “Can we see the Compass Rose?”

“Well. There’s no reason why not. The public are allowed to go in, but only one at a time, I think?” The woman who had gotten stuck showing the group around said. I hid as quickly as I could, not wanting to be pulled into the conversation.

I walked back to my office, hoping no one had noticed I’d slipped out, to be sadly disappointed. My boss was sitting on the corner of my desk.

“Where were you?” He asked me.

“Just wanted to see what all the noise was about.” Behind him, the lady security guard who switched on and off with the one I usually saw stood, looking that part angry, part unamused way only a security guard could.

“Open your desk.”

“What is this about?”

“The Compass Rose. It’s gone. I want to know if you have it. You spent enough time looking for it…made jokes about stealing it. So. Did you?”

I unlocked the desk and the guard pushed me aside, dumping the contents on my desk. I held my breath when she flipped through the notebooks, but they all were empty.

Empty. Oh, no.

I let her paw through everything I owned. Let her pat me down. “Unless she swallowed it, sir, I don’t think she has it.”

“I didn’t swallow it!” I let panic creep into my voice. It was not hard.

I let them x-ray me. I did. I admit it. The lab tech a few floors down gave me sympathetic looks as I stood there, shivering, in my gown.

And then I let them fire me. The frustrating thing was the lack of knowledge. They refused to let me know anything. What happened? How? Why? Was a playing card left behind? I wanted to know.

But most of all I wanted to know where my notebook was.

Two days later as I packed up my apartment, I received a package. My name…my alias, rather, in quotes. Quotes. I grabbed a letter opener and ripped it open with more force than I needed. I suspected, already, who would be cheeky enough to put quotation marks around my fake name.

My notebook.

The last page, there was a five of diamonds tucked in like a book mark. The back of the card the same as the one I carried with me wherever I went.

Across the last page he’d written, “A five star card for a five star effort. Not bad for your first try. I wish I’d thought of the fountain. That was clever, if a bit damp.” A couple of crabbed notes along side my own. Suggestions. Not actual plans. No, I’d need to catch him to find out how he did his theft, if he could be convinced to tell me even then.

I sat down, hard. He knew where I was. Where I lived. Knew I had a steno notebook, knew I’d hide it because I could have my belongings searched. How? How did he learn so much about me? I thought over the people I had met, since getting that job.

I imagined large hands carefully drawing things out of my purse, lining them up neatly on the marble of the entry way desk. “Sorry about this, miss.” The guard’s voice said, as he went through my things. Large, but graceful hands. A warm voice that bothered me because I’d heard it before. The security guard. He’d been guarding the damned diamond all along.

“Five star effort? Oh, I’ll show you. I’ll show you.”

I worried about telling my family of my failure, then I realized. He’d given me a clue. The cheeky bastard had given me a clue. Because one of the other diamonds was kept in a five star hotel overlooking the Rhine.

He was telling me that he was going to steal the Heart of the Rhine, a mossy green diamond worth millions. Now, if only I could believe him.

Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know. <3

@grogusmum @mishasminion360 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @pedro4ever @writteninthestars18 @fromthedeskoftheraven @sharkbait77

@quica-quica-quica @eri16 @the-blind-assassin @ayoungpascallover-readings @songsformonkeys

#casillero diablo wine commercial #the thief #pedro pascal

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misc-hamefura-etc · 3 years

Text

WN Bonus story - Made by everyone

One of the bonus stories from the WN that wasn’t included in the LNs (yet). This was mostly machine translated. If someone has a better TL let me know and I’ll take this down.

Otherwise it’s another cute story of Bakarina and friends! XD

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Made by everyone

My name is Catarina Klaes, 10 years old.

The only daughter of the Duke's family, the fiancée of the third prince of this country ... and the villainous daughter of the maiden game "FORTUNE LOVER" set in this world.

One day when I was eight years old, I remembered the memory of my previous life when I hit my head, and realized that I was reincarnated as a villain daughter who has only a ruin flag in the world of otome games!

So, by the time I was fifteen years old when the game started, I was trying to avoid the ruin flag, but ... I've come here and a big crisis has come!

It was this morning.

As usual, I asked Anne to peel off the blankets and wake me up, and the weather was nice, so I was eager to go to the garden dashingly, saying, "Now, let's work hard on the fields."

It was a ruthlessly devastated field.

The crops that were growing are full of holes, and the ones that will fall on the soil and will bear fruit are similar. In addition, there are sticky white things all over the place.

It's been a few years since I started to make a field in the garden of the Klaes family, and it's a garden of an aristocratic mansion. But ...

A foreign enemy has appeared here.

The garden was surrounded by fences and so that wild animals wouldn't come in easily ... but they were coming from the sky.

The appearance of several birds singing cutely with chips was adorable in the garden with a feeling of "pretty".

Recently, I felt that the number of visitors I saw at home has increased since when i first regained my memories.

However, no way they would ruin the fields I made with great care like this ...

"Damn ~, those sparrows!"

I cursed.

When I approach, it escapes temporarily, but when I leave, it returns to the field and finally pecks the fruit.

Quite a few visitors? No, it's done by the number of birds, so it seems that the precious vegetables will all be eaten.

In addition, their poop is scattered everywhere, so it's sticky with white poop all over the place.

This is bad, I have to take some measures!

Chair Catalina Klaes.

Congressman Catalina Klaes.

Secretary Catalina Klaes.

Now, let's break through the current situation and open a strategy meeting to avoid the crisis in the fields.

"Well, everyone, please give us your opinion to protect the important fields."

"Yes"

"……Can I have a minute? 』\

"Yes, please Catarina Klaes"

"I understand that the fields have been devastated and I'm shocked, but do I need to bother to hold a strategy meeting for this project? 』\

"Well, what are you talking about! It's a critical situation because our important field has been devastated! This is a meeting project! 』\

"... But the fields have nothing to do with our doom flag ..."

"Well, I've been enjoying it as a hobby since I knew that it wouldn't be form of communication with the origin of my magic, but ... I mean, now I've set the doom flag aside and it's a field! 』\

"... No, it would be useless if you left it. The doom flag. It depends on Catalina's life. "

"Well, it's okay, because the countermeasures have been put in place ... Well, the snake toys are getting better, and the dirt bump isn't like it's getting higher. 』\

"The quality of snake toys has certainly improved, but I don't think the soil bump has improved at all since the first year ..."

"No, there are times when it feels a little higher, even though it's a few millimeters."

"... It's probably because of that. I feel that 15 cm is the limit. "

"Oh, we're doing a lot about the Doom flag countermeasures, and for the time being, we've gathered in this way, so let's talk about the field countermeasures now."

"Yes"

"Well, that's right."

"So, do you have any good ideas? 』\

"Yes. You should avoid birds in the field. "

"For example, avoid birds? 』\

"Well, uh, put a plastic bottles on the fence? 』\

"Isn't that cat counter measures? 』\

"That's right. Then, the grandmother of the previous life didn't say that you should smell the dog. "

"I think it was a measure against nyctereutees."

(TL Note: sorry i have no idea what shes trying to prevent here)

"Then, what to do to avoid birds? 』\

"... a scarecrow?"

"That's it. Scarecrow! Grandma had a scarecrow in the field! 』\

"Good nice. If you put up a scarecrow, it would seem like there are people and the birds won't come near. "

"Okay, let's make a scarecrow right away! 』\

"Yes!"

In this way, I decided to start making scarecrows ...

"In the first place, how should I make it, can I do it if I have a tree?"

When I was thinking about how to make it, my brother Keith said

"What's wrong big sister?"

He kindly asked me, so I talked about the fact that the field was in danger due to sparrows and I was thinking of making a scarecrow as a countermeasure.

"... Scarecrow to avoid birds ... It's amazing what my big sister thinks. I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it properly, so why don't you ask the gardener or someone who seems to know more?"

"I see!"

Let’s just ask the gardener Tom Ji-chan.

I immediately asked Tom Ji-chan how to make a scarecrow.

Tom Ji-chan, who knows a lot, knew how to make a scarecrow and told me how to make.

I had gathered the necessary materials as taught.

Then, with Keith helping me, "Now, let's start making scarecrows!” And started preparing in the garden,

"Catarina, what on earth are you trying to do this time?"

My fiancé Geordo, the third prince of the country, popped up and asked with a smile.

(Geordo comes into the mansion with a free pass, so he always comes suddenly)

"Oh, Geordo, I'm going to make a scarecrow from now on."

"What is a scarecrow?"

Oh, the prince doesn't know about Scarecrows, well, he's the prince.

"Scarecrow is a doll in the shape of a person in a rural field."

"Oh, I think I've seen it from a distance, but why make such a thing?"

"That's right ----"

I enthusiastically talked about the crisis in the fields caused by sparrows, so I decided to make a scarecrow! After he got over his shock, he lowered his head as his shoulder trembled. (this is a common Geordo habit).

"If so, let's help me together." he said.

Geordo is a super high-spec person who can even work in the fields smartly, so I'm grateful for his help.

I asked Geordo for cooperation, saying "please".

This time, Geordo's twin brother Alan and his fiancé Mary also came to visit.

When I explained to them that we were going to make a scarecrow,

Alain burst with laughter, "No, you're just in the field, but I'm wondering what it's like to make a bird ward."

Mary said "Please let me cooperate for Catalina's precious field."

However, if the number of people increased to this point, it would be better to make several Scarecrows rather than making one Scarecrow together, so it was decided to divide the team.

"I'll make it with Catalina, because I'm her fiancé."

"My big sister originally intended to make it with me."

When Geordo and Keith started say those things,

"Katarina-sama, I'm here to play."

"Apologies for the intrusion"

Sophia and Nicole, the Ascart siblings also came --- the number of Scarecrow-making members increased to seven in a blink of an eye, so I decided to make three.

At Nicole's suggestion, "Because it's a hassle to divide up, let's draw lots," the lots divided us into three teams.

"Now, let's do our best"

"Yes, Catalina, let's make a nice scarecrow."

"I like cute things"

Me, Mary, Sophia's girl team.

"I mean, what is Scarecrow? Nicole, do you understand?"

"Oh, I've seen it before when I went to visit a rural village."

Alan, Nicole's team.

"... Well, why do I have to work with you?"

"Geordo -sama, I will return the line exactly as it is."

Geordo , Keith's team.

In this way, everyone made a scarecrow for each.

Everyone helped me with the fields, but it was also fun to do different work together.

And three scarecrows were completed.

The three scarecrows in the garden, the materials themselves should not have changed so much, but each one has its own individuality.

Scarecrow made by our girl’s team is like a cute girl with long hair and fluffy clothes in response to Sophia's suggestion that "I like cute things anyway".

Nicole and Alan team are said to have faithfully reproduced what Nicole had seen before ... It seems that it had a very good male style ... The result was a macho male style scarecrow. ..

And the team of Geordo and Keith ... they created a very realistic human-like scarecrow.

It was a scarecrow like a work of art that brought together the power of Geordo, who can do anything, and Keith, who is dexterous.

However, the impression of everyone who saw such a scarecrow was:

"It looks like it's starting to move."

"It's too real and scary"

"Why did you make it so real?"

"..."

It was not good enough.

For that reason,

"I told to make a human shape, so I just did what I was told."

"... I haven't seen Scarecrow. I don't know what it is."

Geordo looked a little sick, and Keith said that he was a little embarrassed, but when I saw the Scarecrows, I was impressed. They could definitely deceive the sparrows!

"If it looks like a human, you can definitely deceive a sparrow! Thank you for the wonderful scarecrow."

When I said that and thanked them, they looked down a little in the same way.

"... No. There is nothing like this."

"... Yeah. That's right."

They answered.

When I looked closely at the two people who looked strange, their faces were blushing.

Oh, no!

It wasn't that hot yet, but everyone had to work outdoors for quite a long time, so they got hot flashes!

The two of them made a particularly elaborate work of art.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice it. It was hot. Let's go indoors and rehydrate immediately!"

I'm sorry that I'm mentally older than everyone else, but I'm not sure.

I hurriedly took everyone indoors and served tea.

The tea after work was exceptionally delicious, and we all made scarecrows, so we talked about that.

Geordo and Keith were also glad that when they had tea indoors, their hot flashes seemed to have calmed down and their complexion had returned.

And three scarecrows were placed around the field of the Klaes family.

Girls, Macho men, and real humans.

Occasionally, the servant I saw was mistaken for a person and made a surprised voice, but thanks to him, the sparrow seemed to be able to deceive him well and did not come near, so he was able to escape from the crisis in the field.

#otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #katarina claes #keith claes #geordo stuart #mary hunt #sophia ascart #nicol ascart #alan stuart

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the-archxr · 4 years

Text

Nobody Puts Harrington in a Corner

steve harrington x reader

Summary: What do you do when you want to go see a romance movie but have no one to take you? You haul along your best friend and have an impromptu dance lesson after, of course.

A/N: y’all I fucking love Dirty Dancing so much, it’s not even funny. This fic is honestly just self-indulgent, so enjoy??? Even if you don’t like Dirty Dancing.

Song Inspo: (I’ve Had) Time of My Life - Jennifer Warnes and Bill Medley, Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen

•••••

“I have a business proposition for you.”

The words come out rushed, ragged and breathless. A strange mix that Steve isn’t particularly familiar with when it’s coming from you. His eyes trail up to your hunched figure, shocked at what he sees.

Your face is a blotchy red, with blown cheeks, and a heaving chest. With complete disregard of your previous statement he speaks up. “Did you run here?”

You shrug, and wipe at your forehead. “Yeah, but that’s besides the point.” Straightening your back, you almost square up Steve as a way of proving your point.

He leans his hip against the countertop with his arms crossed and hair falling haphazardly in his face. “I need to ask you something, Steve. And before you say no, just remember that I’m literally you’re most favourite person on the face of this planet who has saved your ass more times than I can count.”

“Okay..?” He pushes himself off the counter before straightening out the ugly green vest he has to wear. “What is it?”

You smile wildly but force yourself to keep some composure as to not draw Keith’s attention, who has definitely kicked you out of the store before, and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

“So...there’s this new movie...”

“Well there’s a lot of new movies, Y/N.” He butts in playfully, which earns a small glare in his direction (which inevitably turns into a smile, but you assume he’s too unobservant to actually notice).

“Anyway,” you exaggerate, wringing your hands together. “I want to see this movie, and no one will go with me...so I’m forcing you to be my...” you hesitate, trying to find the word. However, the one you were trying to avoid slips out. “My date.”

The boys eyes widen almost immediately as he awkwardly falls back a bit. “Your...date? Like a...date date?”

“What? No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’m not asking you out, Harrington. I’m saving that for Family Video’s regular attendees.” You gesture to a group of giggling girls who’ve you seen here one to many times, who very obviously come here for the sole purpose that is Steve Harrington. “No, it’s cause it’s a romance movie, and I don’t really wanna’ go alone.”

He frowns and lifts his shoulders in question. “Why not?”

You laugh to yourself, the question sitting awkwardly within your mind. “Because...it’s embarrassing? I mean what would you think if you saw me by myself in that situation?”

He pauses and shrugs. “I guess I’d feel...I don’t know, pity? It’s a tough question.” He mumbles, eliciting a roll of your eyes.

You brush off his remark of it being a “tough question” and clear your throat. “Exactly, Steven. Which is why you are going to accompany me to this movie, so that way I don’t have to deal with the apparent pity.”

It’s silent for a moment. Steve chooses to lean against the counter again, as he mauls over your offer. “I don’t even like romance movies, Y/N.”

You frown and lean in closer to your friend. “I know, but please, Steve.”

You grab his hand and squeeze it, batting your eyelashes at him in the most exaggerated way you know. You don’t like manipulating people (much less your best friend), but for reasons unknown, the poor boy can never really say no to you—and you really need him to say yes.

His gaze make its way from your clasped hands, up your arm and to your face. His chest tightens and his whole body turns rigid as he watches you allow your head to lean ever-so-slightly to the side. Soon, the tips of his ears grow hot and then -

“Um...excuse me?” Both of your necks snap to the source of the voice. It’s one of the girls from the group earlier, and you can’t help but chuckle, because she looks just as nervous as she sounds. Her eyes are quickly cast on Steve, which causes her to flick her ponytail back with a shaky smile. “My friends and I are trying to look for a certain movie, and we can’t seem to find it. Do you mind helping us?”

You turn to Steve with a smirk. He clears his throat, noticing that the hand that held his a mere few seconds ago rests casually on the counter. You look unbothered by the events that had occurred, which makes Steve’s stomach drop (and not in a good way). He frowns in your direction once more before shaking himself out of it, shooting a smile in the girls direction. “No problem.”

You laugh and stride towards the door. “The movie starts at seven, but you might as well show up thirty minutes early ‘cause you have a little tendency called ‘being late’, Harrington.”

You hold the door open, one side of your body burning with the summer heat that threatens the comfort of everyone, and the other side facing Steve and the air-conditioned store. You wait until he looks back at you, which takes him a few seconds before he’s practically shooing you away. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

You jump in excitement and wink at the boy. “See you tonight, Stevie!”

“See you tonight,” he mumbles, before turning to the jittery group of girls in the corner.

•••••

“Look who’s the late one!” Steve shouts in your direction. It’s 6:50 (which is even a little late for you) and surprisingly Steve has already arrived. “Ya know I’ve been sitting here for like, fifteen minutes.”

You shut your car door and stride up the cocky boy. “Oh, I am truly sorry, your Highness, but my dear mother was keeping me up.”

He hums, looking you up and down with fake accusation. “...Apology accepted,” he shoots back before standing up and guiding the two of you to concession.

Really, it’s a miracle that the two of you made it on time. And it’s an even bigger miracle that the last two seats in the theatre were directly beside each other; enough space for the two of you, and your obscenely large bucket of popcorn.

Steve leans over to you as the lights dim dramatically. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, forcing your attention onto him. “So, uh, what kinda’ movie title is ‘Dirty Dancing’?”

You shake your head at him and push his face towards the screen. “Just watch the movie, Farmer Fred.”

“You and your Sixteen Candles references...” he mutters before you kick his foot with yours in annoyance. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet.”

He sighs and leans back in his seat, remaining quiet for the rest of your “date”.

•••••

The movie ends quickly—way too quickly for your liking, and when the lights turn back on you can’t help but frown.

The sound of clapping from the viewers drowns out the sounds of popcorn being squished on the ground and the squeaking of the seats.

Steve is standing up, his shadow casted over you as you try to steady yourself after sitting for so long. He lets you walk past him, hand grazing your lower back as he guides you through the bustling stream of exiting movie-goers.

Soon, the two of you have left the theatre itself and face the stark cold air of the night. “So...” Steve starts, slowly walking you to your car. “What did you th—“

“It was amazing!” You shout, eyes blown with excitement as you hop back and forth. With a breath you let yourself slip into pur amusement after having to control yourself for so long. “I mean the dancing and the plot was incredible! And—and the end was just...just so good! And don’t get me started on Patrick Swayze! Like, oh my god, who does he think he is just looking like that, prancing around without a care in the world?!”

Steve laughs and stops just before your car as you unlock it. “Yeah, honestly it wasn’t that bad. The lift was something else though.” He leans against the door as you put your purse into the passenger's seat. “I mean I can’t imagine doing that! And the amount of times they probably had to do it?! Geez, it’d be hell.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on, it didn’t look that hard.”

Steve’s jaw drops with a shake of his head. “Well it wasn’t hard for Baby, obviously. All she had to do was jump! Johnny was the one who had to hold her up!”

You laugh incredulously at your best friend before a rather treacherous idea pops in your head. You bite your lip, slam the car door shut and look out into the somewhat empty parking lot.

“Well, why don’t we out this theory to the test...?”

Steve’s laughter dies quickly before a squeak of a “what?” slips out of his mouth. You grab his hand and lead him to a rather deserted spot just south of where your cars are parked.

“Let’s try it out! Let’s be Baby and Johnny. Let’s do the lift.” Your tone turns serious which only adds to Steve’s ever-growing nervousness.

“You can’t be serious...” His hands are deep in his pockets as he leans from one foot to the other. Strands of hair in fall in front of his face, and for a moment, in the distant light, he really does look like Johnny.

You can’t help but really notice the oddity of the whole situation. What with Steve looking like a reincarnation of Johnny Castle and you deciding to get somewhat dressed up and wear your favourite sundress—one that is oddly similar to Baby’s. It’s a funny little coincidence that you opt to point out later. But now? The two of you have to do this.

You remove your jacket, leaving it on the ground and shake out your limbs before looking straight at your friend. Steve’s face deepens with his shock. “Oh god, you are serious.”

You laugh and signal at Steve to get ready. Instead he shakes his head. “Y/N, I--I don’t think this is the best idea.”

“Steve, come on! We’re testing out are hypothesis’ as to who had a more difficult time performing the lift.”

He shuffles quickly, and with a groan, throws his jacket off his body. “I swear to god, Y/N.” You here him mumble as he nervously fidgets and bends his knees. He gets into a stance similar to Johnny’s and holds out his hands to you. His whole body is shaking—which in comparison is odd because yours simply feels light.

The cold prickles at your exposed skin, and it sends your senses into overdrive as your eyes lock onto Steve’s.

Kicking off your shoes, you dig your heels into the ground and prepare yourself.

“Oh, and Steve?” His head shoots up to you. “Don’t drop me.”

He stands up straight at that as he loses his concentration. “Oh well that’s a really comforting thing to sa—WAIT!”

You had already started running. Your feet pounding against the gravel as fly-away pebbles poke the soles of your feet; your body gaining momentum with every step.

Steve rushes into the stance, desperately trying to ground himself.

“Steve!” You shout with a laugh as you jump. His hands catch your waist as he extends his legs. It almost works but with Steve’s partially delayed actions, your head barely gets above his before he’s stumbling backward.

He falls first, with you quickly following as his grip pulls you down with him.

You land on his chest, and for a moment the air is filled with shock. Rolling onto the ground beside him, you regain your breath before bursting in laughter.

“Jesus, Y/N!” He shouts, body tingling with nerves.

By now the parking lot is empty, save for the cars of the theatres workers, which means that your laugh echoes to the neighbouring buildings.

Steve pushes a hand through his hair before inhaling deeply. His eyes cast to your figure—still rolling on the ground—and before he has a chance to reprimand you, something hits him.

It’s a sudden feeling. One that pulls the last of his breath out of his lungs and throws it into the night sky. You don’t notice his sudden change in behaviour, and to be frank, he doesn’t even really recognize what he’s feeling other than the fact that he felt this...murmur this morning. Except this time it’s amplified.

He hears pounding in his ears, and as he watches the faint, yellow light from the theatre cast over your face, he feels the pit of his stomach burst open. Butterflies flutter around in his belly and threaten to escape his throat.

The feeling—one that is shocking, but not unwelcome—is indescribable. The boy gets lost in his thoughts as he watches you finally get up off the ground and gather your things.

Steve feels as though he’s watching an old tape. The pictures move slowly, and they’re a little fuzzy, but they elicit warm, nostalgic feelings.

Suddenly your voice rings through his ears, until he recognizes that you’re looking at him a little confused. Steve is snapped out of his trance, his body jumping up to match yours. Your eyes are wide as you stare him up and down. “You get another concussion?”

The joke is familiar, but his laugh is delayed. He simply shakes his head, realizing that this is the first time he’s actually looked at you (and if he’s honest, you’re making him a little nervous). He takes note that even though you look messy--with wild hair everywhere and a breathtaking smile--he can’t help but admire you in your most natural state. However you break the moment (unknowingly) with a shrug. Spinning on your heel to your car, you continue to talk to him as he walks over to the familiar, beat-up BMW. “Anyway, I was saying that for a first time that wasn’t bad. We just need a little practice.”

“The first time?” Steve questions, leaning on the roof of his car. “There’s gonna’ be a second time?”

You shrug with a cheeky smile. “If you want...”

He allows a small smile—a smile he can’t tell if you catch from the distance, but one he hopes you feel. “Yeah. I do.”

You smile back at him, and soon your bidding him goodnight and driving out of the parking lot.

Steve, on the other hand waits. He’s stunned, obviously. So much so that part of him is concerned about this new revelation. But the other part of him, recognizes it. He may be oblivious, but he’s not necessarily stupid.

And how could he be? When he hasn’t felt this way before...and it’s such a strong feeling. If anything, he’s forced to figure it out.

He grins to himself, the sight of you burned into his memory and carved into his heart. It’s the kind of sight that he knows he’ll see behind closed eyes and dazed moments where he can’t help but let his mind wander.

It’s a sight that promises something new.

He can’t wait to tell Robin about this.

•••••

Steve Harrington Taglist:

@wigofokoye @timeladygallifrey @fairlysuitehearts @loulouloueh @bluegreyme @coltonparayyko @readinthegarden12 @hello-therree @gothackedalready @aphrodites-perfume @arielizzlewizzle @fic-cheesecake @bohemiandeakyy @nerd-domland @blueoz @laneygthememequeen @xelaalec @i-justlikewhales @elen-alambil @heykarsyn @yellowhopes @veeshthefrog @justsomeficsilike @cxddlyash @aniya21890 @billyhargrovescigarette @nugturally @daddystevee @asheseiler @enchantedcruelsummer @gwenandtheunfortunatename

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #ultra fluffy shit #steve harrington #joe keery x reader #joe keery #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things x reader #dirty dancing #the lift scene #johnny castle #baby houseman #who wouldnt want to do the lift scene with steve harrington honestly

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harley-sunday · 4 years

Text

Encore [epilogue]

Summary: The new Disney+ show ‘Encore’ brings together former castmates of a high school musical, tasking them with re-creating their original performance in a high school reunion like no other. Emotions run high as you face faded friendships, long-forgotten controversies, killer choreography, and an ex-boyfriend you haven’t seen in eighteen years.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader [unnamed OFC, nicknamed ‘Ace’)

Warnings: Language. NSFW

Word count: 3.1k

AN: This is it... The epilogue of Encore’s Encore. What a ride, huh? I had so much fun writing this, diving into this backstory, and making sure these two knuckleheads found their way to each other in the end :) Hope you’ll enjoy the last part, but please let me know what you think! ♥

eL, I owe you something chocolate for all the hours you’ve spend in this daydream world with me. Thank you so, SO much, sweets!

Masterlist

“Nic,” you answer with a smile, putting your phone on speaker, “we’re almost there.”

“Ok, good,” she says, “cause these potatoes are done.”

Chris chuckles beside you, “Two minutes, Nicole.”

“Step on it, Evans,” Nicole groans, “I’ve got two very impatient kids here who, I’m sure, aren’t above killing their mother if we don’t start eating soon.”

“Nicole,” you laugh.

“What? I’m serious,” she protests. “Please tell me you remembered to bring the-”

“It’s in the trunk, Nicole,” Chris reassures her with a smile. “We’re pulling up now, so you’re good.”

“Oh thank God,” Nicole says as she hangs up.

“I’ll leave the door open for you,” you tell him, before you give a kiss. “See you soon.”

He winks and sits back, trying to hide from view as you make your way to the front door.

The door opens before you even have a chance to ring the doorbell and you are greeted by two very excited boys who both run up to you and throw their arms around your waist. You run your hands through their hair, “Hi guys,”

“We’re gonna watch you and mommy on TV!” Robby exclaims, while he takes your hand and leads you inside. Leo’s still wrapped around your waist, his feet on yours, and so you penguin walk through the hall and into the kitchen, where you find Nicole and Keith.

“Hi,” Nicole says with a smile, planting a kiss on your cheek, “you had a good flight?”

“Not too bad,” you tell her as you give Keith a hug.

“How’s the apartment?” She tells Leo to let go of you then, and when he doesn’t listen right away she throws him one of those mom-looks that makes him do exactly what she wants.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, taking the glass of wine she’s offered you, “I’m not sure all my stuff’s gonna fit, but-”

“I still don’t understand why you don’t just move in with him, I mean-”

“Nicole,” you berate her, one eyebrow raised. “Have you met me and my commitment issues?”

“Yes, I know, taking it slow, blah blah blah,” she says while she pulls a face. “You know you’re just gonna be at his place all the time, right?”

“I know,” you agree with a nod, “but it’s nice to have, like, my own place, at least until he gets back from filming Knives Out, you know? I don’t- It would be weird to stay at his house when we’re not technically back-”

“Oh, come on!” She throws her hands in the air then, “You know what, I give up. Just let me know if you need help decorating the new place or whatever.”

“I love you,” you tell her, making a kissing face.

“Uhu,” she says, trying to keep a straight face but failing. She pulls you in for a hug, “It’s good to have you back, babe.”

“MOM!”

“Oh shit,” Nicole curses quietly and lets go of you. “Here we go.”

You pulls up your texting app and hit <send> on the draft you typed earlier, which simply says:

Now.

“Mom, Leo hit me!”

You follow Nicole into the dining room where you find Robby, a red spot on his cheek that confirms his story, and a very guilty-looking Leo. Before Nicole has a chance to say anything there’s a knock on the front door and you see the confusion on Leo and Robby’s faces when they quickly realize an unexpected guest has shown up.

It’s then the door to the dining room opens and you see the boys’ eyes widen in shock when they see who has just stepped into their house. You throw Nicole a wink and step back, letting your back rest against the wall as you watch the scene in front of you unfold with a smile.

“Hi boys,” Chris says, using the deeper voice Steve Rogers is known for. Holding Captain America’s shield in front of him he salutes them, before he sets the shield down and walks over to where they’re seated, kneeling in between them.

Leo finally seems to have found his voice again and looks from Chris to Nicole, “Momma! Cap’ain America is here!”

“He sure is, baby,” Nicole says with a smile.

As if on cue, both boys jump out of their seats and throw their arms around Chris’ neck, giggling when he stands up, carrying them to the living room with ease.

“Come on,” you nudge Nicole before you set your glass down, “Chris can handle those two, I’ll help you get everything on the table.”

She tells Keith to go take some pictures, maybe even a video so that, when necessary, they can help Leo and Robby remember about the deal they made with Captain America about being kind to each other. Once you’re in the kitchen she lets out a staggered breath, “I really hope this will help with all the fighting.”

“It will,” you assure her, gently patting her arm. “Captain America shows up, you listen, right? Those kids, oh Nic,” you let out a laugh, “they’ll be on their best behaviour from now on, because Captain America will find out if they’re not.”

After a dinner filled with stories from Leo and Robby, trying to impress Captain America with whatever they can think of, you settle down in the living room, your episode of ‘Encore’ just minutes from airing.

You and Chris sit down on the couch, Robby on his lap, while Leo snuggles up on yours, but only after both boys agree that Leo gets to sit on Cap’s lap after the second commercial break. Keith and Nicole are snuggled up on the love seat and you watch them out of the corner of your eye, smiling when you see Keith tickle Nicole which earns him a gentle slap on the wrist, followed by a kiss.

The episode starts then, the boys clapping and cheering loudly whenever they catch a glimpse of their mom. You can’t help but cringe when you see the footage of that first day, the awkward hug you gave Chris of course shown in its entirety. That’s the only time there’s any focus on you and Chris, which you’re thankful for, glad that whatever was going between you two didn’t transpire in rehearsals enough to make it into the final cut.

You smile when you see parts of the performance on screen and look away in embarrassment when they show the scene between you and Chris, making out in Kenickie’s car. Keith wolf whistles and Nicole winks at you, while the boys look up at you and Chris, confusion written all over their faces.

Robby, now in your lap, takes the lead, “You kissed Captain America.” It’s not so much a question as it is a statement and you’re not sure how to reply.

Chris steps in, “She did, but it’s super secret, so you can’t tell anyone that you know, ok?”

Robby and Leo nod fervently, excited to share another secret with Captain America.

“So, am I dropping you off at your place, or-” he says with a grin.

You shake your head and laugh, “You can, but then you’d have to drop yourself off there as well and I don’t think Dodger would be too excited to spend the night alone.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he drives past your apartment, speeding up a little to make his point, a cheeky grin playing on his lips.

You turn towards him in your seat and stare at him for a few seconds, memories starting to flood your mind now that you’re driving through Sudbury again together for the first time in eighteen years. You let your bottom lip roll between your teeth while an idea starts to form.

He looks over at you, “What?”

You shrug, “Remember that time you took me for a drive and we ended up at Great Meadows?”

“Yeah-”

“Yeah.” You reach out your hand and let it rest on the top of his thigh, “Wanna take me there again?”

He swallows hard, the double entendre not lost on him, and he just nods, gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter.

You let your hand travel further up his thigh and cup him through his jeans, drawing a sharp breath from him when you squeeze ever so slightly. It’s about five more minutes to the parking you were referring to and you keep your hand in place for every second of them, your thumb rubbing back and forth in languid strokes.

His breathing picks up and you can tell he’s trying to keep his cool, but the way he grows harder under your touch betrays his efforts. He curses quietly, “Fuck, Ace.”

“Uhu,” you reply with a sly smile and another squeeze.

He pulls up to the parking then, and you’re relieved to find it empty, not sure what you would have done if there’d been other people around. Before you have time to say anything he’s unbuckled his seatbelt and puts his hand over yours, keeping you in place, grinding against your hand.

You take your hand out from underneath his and unbuckle your seatbelt, while you tell him to slide his seat back. He does and watches you intently, no doubt curious to see what you’ll do next. You throw him a wink and move around in your seat, your ass now hitting the dashboard. Planting one feet firmly on the ground, you throw the other over his leg and slide onto his lap. It takes some effort, but finally you find yourself straddling his thigh.

Your skirt has ridden up and you can feel your soaked panties press against his jeans, a shiver running through you when you feel him flex his muscles. You cup his face and pull him in for a kiss and as you do you buck your hips, sliding over his leg, a moan escaping you from the friction it creates.

“Ace,” he breathes against your lips, his hands on your hips to keep you in place.

You give him another kiss and let your hands fall to his jeans then, your fingers unbuckling his belt with ease before you undo his button and zipper. One hand finds its way into his boxers and takes him out, and you press yourself against his leg when you see he’s completely hard.

Your thumb runs over the tip, coating it in precum. Pulling back you look at him and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks when you let a bit of spit fall onto your hand, your eyes never leaving his. Both hands are on his cock then, working in tandem, while he grabs onto your hips and helps you ride his thigh in earnest.

It isn’t long before his head falls back against the headrest, his breathing more ragged now, and you can tell he’s getting close from the way he thrusts into your hands.

“I’m right there with you,” you whisper, feeling your orgasm starting to build.

He flexes the muscles in leg again and pushes you down harder as he slides you from his knee to his hip and back.

You keep running your hands up and down his shaft, faster than before, and then you lean forward and put your mouth to his ear, “Come for me, Chris.”

He shakes his head while he tightens his grip on your hips, lifting you up, and you whimper at the loss of contact. He kisses you, hard, and then puts one hand on your lower back, pushing you against him, while the other takes his cock from your hands. “Wanna come inside of you,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, and you almost come right then and there.

You put your hands on his shoulders and slowly lower yourself onto him, a moan escaping your when he fills you up effortlessly. His hands are back on your hips then, helping you ride him, setting a pace that you know will get both of you there quickly.

Burying your face in his neck, closer now than you were before, you sneak one hand in between you to play with your clit. You want to tell him you’re about to come, but then he bucks his hips at the same time he pushes you down and the words get stuck in your throat because your orgasm washes over you instantly.

You feel him come inside of you not much later and he wraps his arms around you, cradling you against his chest and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you both come down from your high.

When you wake up the next morning Chris’ side of the bed is already empty and you figure he must have gone out for an early morning run. That is until you hear Dodger bark somewhere on the other end of the house, which is weird, because Chris told you he usually takes his dog along on his runs. You decide you might as well get up, feeling well-rested after your early night yesterday, but still longing for some coffee.

You start to make your way to the kitchen, but halfway there you are greeted by an excited Dodger, who you give some well-deserved scratches before continuing your mission to get some coffee. Your brows knit together when you see a bouquet of red tulips on the kitchen counter, which you are sure weren’t there yesterday.

“I was just gonna get you,” Chris says as hands you a plate with two Danish, and a cup of coffee while he pulls a face, “I hate to rush you, but we have an hour before we need to leave, so you kind need to haul-”

“What?” You look at him, shaking your head, “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t- It’s a surprise,” he says with a wicked grin. “So just- Eat your breakfast, and I’ll go take a shower, ok?”

“Ok,” you draw out, even more confused. You watch him walk out of the kitchen and turn towards Dodger, who’s at your feet hoping you’ll drop a bit of Danish, or maybe just both. “You in on this?”

Dodger barks quietly, which doesn’t really help. Still, you sneak him a bit of your Danish before you sit down at the breakfast bar and try to figure out what the hell is going on.

You’re in the car about an hour later and Chris still won’t tell you where you’re headed, but when he turns onto the I90 after twenty minutes or so, you are fairly certain you’ll end up in Boston, even though that leaves about a thousand places he could take you to.

He’s unusually quiet and so you figure it must be something important but there’s just no way of telling what is happening right now. When he pulls up on Salem Street about thirty minutes later you’re even more confused, almost certain that you’ve never been here before.

When you round the car to join him on the sidewalk, he takes your hand and leads the way down the street until you get to what looks like a barber shop. It confuses you even more, because are you here to watch him get a haircut, or?

You follow him inside and you’re surprised when the guy behind the counter greets him as if they’re old friends, telling him Dave will be with you guys in a second.

“Chris,” you whisper, gently tugging on his hand.

Before he has the chance to respond a guy walks through the curtains behind the counter and walks up to you and it takes everything you have not to stare at him, because he’s almost twice the size of Chris. This must be Dave, you figure, and you watch as he gives Chris a hug.

“How you doin’, kid?”

“Good,” Chris smiles. He nods towards you then, “This is Ace.”

You throw him a look because why would he use your nickname, but it’s then Dave gives you a hug and you find yourself a little stunned at how gentle he is for such a big guy. Before you have the chance to ask any questions, Dave beckons you and Chris to follow him through the curtains and it’s there things get even more confusing.

There’s a chair set up, but it isn’t a barber’s chair, and you glance at Chris, hoping to finally get some answers.

“I’ll just eh-,” Dave says then, “I’ll just go grab something from the back,” and disappears through another curtain, leaving you and Chris alone.

Chris takes your hands in his and gives them a gentle squeeze, “Remember when I told you that I got that ace of hearts tattooed on what was supposed to be our ten-year anniversary?”

You nod, slowly starting to maybe connect the dots, but it isn’t until you realize what today’s date is that you let out a gasp, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods and smiles, “Happy twenty-year anniversary, Ace.” He tugs on your hands, pulling you close before he wraps his arms around you, his mouth close to your ear when he says, “It’s time to start fixing things.”

Dave reappears then and asks Chris if he’s ready. Chris nods and takes his sweater off, before he sits down in the chair and Dave starts prepping his skin. Chris holds out his hand to you and you’re quick to take it, standing next to him and watching in awe as Dave starts to fill in the broken line of Chris’ tattoo, the colour red he’s using matching that of the existing heart perfectly. You give his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know that Dave’s done not much later and let go then, so Chris can get up out of the chair and admire his tattoo in the mirror that’s hanging on the wall.

Dave throws you a wink, “Everything as it should be.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile, for some reason feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, as if the enormity of what Chris has just done only now hits you. You watch as Dave places what looks like saran wrap on Chris’ chest before he hands him a tube of cream and some instructions on how to take care of it the next couple of days.

Walking out of the shop not much later Chris looks at you, a tender look in his eyes, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a moment of clarity suddenly hitting you.

“So,” Chris asks, hesitating a little, “am I dropping you off at your place or-?”

“No,” you say as you let go of his hand and turn towards him. You cup his face ih your hands and push yourself up so your lips ghost against his, “You’re taking me home.”

#chris evans x reader #Chris Evans fanfic #Harley Sunday x Chris Evans #chris evans #Encore

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schmokschmok · 3 years

Text

i’ll mako mermaid out of you

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationship: Keith Kogane x Lance McClain

Characters: Hunk Garrett, Keith Kogane, Lance McClain, Pidge Holt

Wordcount: 6,166

Freeform:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alternate Universe - Fusion

H2O: Just Add Water Fusion

Mermaids

Comfort/No Hurt

Summary:

It's Lance's idea to steal Coran's boat to go to Mako Island, so it's basically his own fault that he'll never swim competitively again.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29940753

CN: Anxiety Attack, Blood (not graphic); Mentions of Death & Food

What could go wrong?, Lance said.

It’s not stealing if we’re bringing Coran’s boat back before dusk, Keith agreed.

I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe we should wait ’til tomorrow, Hunk objected.

Vroom, vroom, motherfuckers!, Pidge exclaimed as they jumped into Coran’s boat. Get in, losers, we’re going Mako Island.

Keith’s got to confess that it seemed like a good idea when Lance first suggested it: Borrowing Coran’s boat, driving out to Mako Island, examining the bush. (He would be lying if he said that he didn't think about all the rumours of supernatural phenomena surrounding Mako Island. And he would also be lying if he said that he didn't feel excitement rush through him at the mere thought of finding signs of monsters or cryptids.) But now that they're trapped inside a fucking volcano, he begins to regret every decision that led them to this point.

“It’s too steep,” Pidge says, not for the first time. They stand at the tunnel they all climbed down about half an hour ago, Hunk’s next to them, and they both won't stop looking for a way out the same way they got in.

Keith and Lance, on the other hand, are pretty sure there's no chance they could climb up again. (Keith tried, okay, but if he can’t do it, it’ll be impossible for Pidge.) So, their fingers search for openings in the wall while their feet carefully avoid stepping into the pool in the middle of the room.

“Found anything, yet?” Lance asked from the other side of the pool.

Keith wipes sweat from his forehead and shakes his head before he replies: “No. Nothing.” He turns around and catches sight of Lance who's feverishly patting at the stone as if there could be an opening if he just looked thoroughly enough.

The full moon shines brightly through an opening at the top of the cave, seeping into almost every nook and illuminating the water, the floor and the crowns of their heads. Maybe, if they wait just a little longer, there could be enough light to see properly. Maybe that will help them find an alternative exit.

“Hey gays,” Pidge says suddenly. “There are tide marks on the stone.” They're sitting at the water now and feel up the edge with the tips of their fingers. Right beside them is Hunk crouching down to verify their assessment. “There has to be a connection to the ocean.”

Cautiously making his way back over to Hunk and Pidge, Keith attempts to look for a passage deep down in the water, but he can’t make anything out in the darkness. He wants to say It’s worth a try. However, in the exact same moment Keith opens his mouth, Lance says: “Heck, only one way to find out!” And he jumps in like there is not even the slightest possibility of sharks on the other side; like he could just do that without Keith jumping right after him.

And Keith definitely would have rushed into the water mindlessly if it wasn’t for Pidge’s hand on his shin holding him back. (He wants to look down and reassure Pidge that everything’s alright because of the way their fingers claw their way into his clothes and the underlying skin, but he can’t avert his gaze from the point where Lance disappeared into the darkness with not more than having taken off his shoes.)

It feels like forever until little bubbles surface and Lance emerges with a smug grin on his face. (Hunk, Pidge and Keith release a breath they all very much knew they were holding.) Almost floating, he moves his arms in little motions to stay above the surface.

On one hand Keith really wants to smack him, on the other hand he’s glad that their escape seems to be easier than feared. Lance’s voice echoes off the stone walls: “It’s not far. Everyone could do it. A toddler could do it. Even Pidge could do it.” Maybe his grin is even wider than before.

Sighing, Hunk takes off his shoes, slides his feet over the edge of the pool and slowly sinks into the water to Lance, with clear disdain on his face. Following his example, Keith crouches down to remove his shoes, when he hears Pidge’s voice low and almost inaudible near his ear: “Keith, I … I can’t do this.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Keith replies irritated and glances at their face. “Lance says it’s not too far.” They wince and move the hand they were leaning on in front of their body. (Keith doesn’t want to make a scene or draw attention to them but it’s hard given the fact that they’re only four people in one single volcano.)

“Keith, yes, it is,” Pidge says in a hushed tone, perhaps even quieter than before. “I never told you because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it but … I don’t really know how to, y’know, swim.” Nervously, their index finger and thumb adjust their glasses and it’s obvious they expect some sort of comedic response or mild laughter but Keith only furrows.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. We got this,” Keith reassures them, before gesturing towards their shoes. “Take them off. And don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.” He sinks into the water, before reaching out to Pidge, who’s just now pocketing their glasses, encouraging them with a small smile to trust him. And, surprisingly, they accept the hand he’s offering without questioning him. Hesitatingly, they lower their body.

They can’t stand (in fact, none of them can) and Pidge holds onto Keith, panic evident on their face. To comfort them, Keith slings his arm around their waist.

“Everything’s alright?” Hunk asks, moving closer to them. “Pidge, you don’t look too well.” Wax-pale face and shaky hands, they nod, maybe a tick too frantic, but Hunk and Lance don’t seem to realise their emotional state. At least for now.

And that is precisely the moment the full moon is finally in its zenith, filling up the whole opening at the top of the cave. The water surrounding them begins to bubble and glow in an iridescent blue light. An unnatural fog builds up right above the water surface and disperses the moonlight between their bodies.

“What the fuck? What the actual ever-loving fuck?” Pidge screeches, while basically scrambling to get on top of Keith. Every word out of their mouth is accentuated by near hysterical panic and huffed, air sucking breaths.

In a nigh impossible attempt to not suffocate or drown, Keith holds Pidge in place, fingers digging into the hem of their top and stabilising their hip, while gulping down air and staying afloat. (But he’s barely holding it together himself because this? This is not natural. And it’s probably not good.)

Lance and Hunk cling to each other, indulging in litanies of oh, my gods and what the hecks.

It only lasts for a few seconds until the full moon surpasses its zenith and the water calms down, glow slowly fading. Aghast and brimming over with fear, Lance separates from Hunk and exclaims: “We should get the heck outta here.”

Hunk and Keith nod, then Hunk and Lance disappear below the surface without another word.

“Inhale deeply and don’t let go. On three,” Keith says, before counting to three in a low voice. Almost at the same moment Keith and Pidge inhale and submerge, following Lance and Hunk through the dark water and the passage deep down to the other side of the stone wall.

It only takes about thirty seconds until they reach the other side and break through the surface, able to breathe again. Not even for a moment did Keith’s grip on Pidge loosen. Nonetheless, they look deranged and almost close to tears. They suck in air heavily and cling onto Keith as if he’d let go any second now.

“Only a few metres, now,” Keith huffs, more paddling than swimming but without getting far.

Suddenly, there’s a second arm around Pidge’s waist and half of their weight gets lifted off his shoulder. Their face is still buried in his neck and their hot, heavy breath meets his exposed skin. Keith smiles at Hunk who lends him a hand and together they make their way to the shore under Lance’s sorrowful eye.

Pidge’s breath becomes shallower and shallower. They attempt to control it by forcefully holding their breath and then slowly releasing it. But it doesn’t seem to work. The shallow little breaths return.

Keith’s feet hit the ground just a moment after Hunk’s. With joined forces they carry Pidge onto the beach and set them down on the sandy ground. Or at least try to because Pidge won’t let go of Keith and he hangs awkwardly in the air right above them, placing his entire weight on his knees.

“What’s going on?” Lance’s low voice is almost inaudible because Pidge’s laboured breath is drowning out about nearly everything around them.

Voice matched to a soft murmur, Hunk answers: “Not sure.”

Keith wants to tell them what’s going on, just to make sure that they don’t worry too much, but it’s not his place to tell them Pidge’s secret, is it? (At least they’re keeping their distance in an attempt to lessen the pressure on Pidge.)

Keith’s hands wrap around Pidge’s and free him with slow, gentle movements from their grip. While carefully pushing them away from him, Keith murmurs comforting words to calm them down. (He’s not even sure what he’s saying.)

“You know, you’re seriously badass,” he says, and Pidge lets out a sound akin to a laugh. “No, no, no. I mean it. That was incredibly brave, Pidge Gunderson.”

“Fuck you, Keith,” Pidge huffs in between sobs, then they let themselves fall onto their back and giggle hysterically. “Shit! Shit!” Keith sits down next to them, and Hunk and Lance join them, still unsure how to handle the situation.

“You’re gonna tell us what’s going on?” Lance asks as he’s searching for Keith’s hand on the ground. Their fingers interlace with each other and Keith gives Lance a small smile.

Even though Pidge was in the process of wiping tears from their face, they make a dismissive gesture with their hand, telling Keith to answer for them.

“Well, apparently Pidge thought swimming would be a useless skill, so they never bothered to learn.” Lance freezes. The only reason Keith even realizes it is because Lance's grip on his hand tightens. He doesn't say anything and neither does Keith. Instead, it's Hunk who speaks up.

“Oh my god, Pidge, why didn't you say anything?” It's obvious he's working himself up and Keith knows for a fact how horrible it is to feel guilty on top of a panic attack, that's why he's shooting Hunk a look who immediately ducks his head and blushes.

“Pidge, is it okay if I hug you?” Hunk asks next, slowly reaching out to them but merely hovering above their arm, unsure if he's allowed to touch them.

A soft voiced and shaky “that would be nice” later, Hunk wraps his arms around Pidge and squeezes them tight against his chest. The pressure on their ribcage seems to force them to even out their breathing, and after good half a minute, it looks like they’re finally in control over their body again.

Lance is uncharacteristically quiet beside Keith, and Keith throws a glance out of the corner of his eyes towards him. There’s a tension between his eyebrows and his lips form a hard line, discontent oozing from every single pore.

“You okay?” Keith asks lowly as to not disturb Pidge’s and Hunk’s moment, ready to get brushed off by Lance who never really liked being called out on his insecurities, especially not in front of other people. Even if these people are his best friends. (It’s a strict one-person confidentiality with Lance, has always been.)

“It's just … they go to the beach with us regularly. I dropped them into the ocean several times. I could have killed them.” Lance stumbles over the words trying to come out too quickly and all at the same time, hushed voice almost breathless. Suddenly, all blood drains from his face, he’s even paler in the light of the moon, and he stares right past Keith at Pidge.

“Did you just,” Lance can’t seem to decide whether he wants to sound outraged or scared shitless. “Did you just dive, like, under water? Even though you can’t swim?! Pidge, what the heck!” Keith tightens his grip on Lance’s hand, but the tension in Lance’s shoulders doesn’t ease the slightest, and Lance doesn’t even close his mouth all the way before he continues. “This is dangerous as fuck, Pidge!”

It’s not hard to see how this is going to go if nobody stops Lance right this second. Keith can hear Pidge’s breathing picking up again and feel the rapid beating of Lance’s heart in the space between his fingers.

“Lance,” Keith says with a finality in his voice, “this is not helping. And you know I wouldn’t have let them drown. Matt would kill me. They’re stuck with us.”

Lance groans in response but keeps quiet otherwise. Keith doesn’t know what he did to shut Lance up, but this is clearly not the time to question it, so he turns towards Pidge and Hunk, the latter finally letting go of the former.

“I for one,” Keith continues, calling the attention to himself, “think we should get the fuck out of here.”

And no one tries to argue with him.

It’s only been a day since they’ve come back from Make Island, hurriedly bringing back Coran’s boat before he can realise it’s been missing in the first place. Keith fell right into bed after a quick shower to wash off the sea salt because he can imagine all too clearly Lance’s smug comments about his dried up, flaky skin if he wouldn’t. And the thought alone is enough to warrant precautions.

He’s been lying in bed all day, only getting up to snack through the kitchen and bother Shiro during lunch hour. But after a few hours he got restless, skin itching with the need to go out again and exercise in any shape or form. So, he slipped into knee-length joggers and a tank to take a short run through the neighbourhood.

The first ten minutes stretch longer than anticipated, exhaustion from a too short night still prevalent. (He hasn’t talked to Pidge yet, anger at their carelessness and dishonesty predominating now that the initial worry has worn off. But it’s not their fault, they didn’t really lie about anything, and it’s in their right to not disclose information. So, he’s left with aimless anger that he’ll hopefully run out of his system.)

After almost half an hour, he finally feels more at ease, the steady thrum of his feet on the pavement soothing his nerves and lulling him into a somewhat peaceful state of mind.

And that’s when he runs past a sprinkler, right through the spray, seeking out every little refreshment in the summer heat he can find, and, all of a sudden, losing the ground underneath his feet, falling face first into the wet grass.

Keith doesn’t know what just happened, rolling onto his back to stare at the sky self-pityingly for a second, breath coming and going in short, controlled bouts. When he tries to plant the sole of his feet on the ground to get up again, he realises that he can’t and props himself up on his elbows to take a look at his feet, getting caught completely off-guard by the sheer absence of his feet. And legs. In lieu, a red scaled fish tail flops aimlessly on the ground.

“What the fuck,” Keith says to no one in particular, not even in the right mind to thank every deity in existence that there is no one to witness his incoming breakdown.

Without his own volition, his right hand reaches out and prods at a stray scale on his hipbone where the tail bleeds out into his skin.

Now, Keith knows the weirdest thing should be that suddenly he’s half fish or whatever, but he can’t comprehend that right now anyways, so he’s mostly weirded out by the fact that it doesn’t feel like he’s touching skin but more like applying pressure to a finger- or toenail. It’s not a real touch, but the ghostly remnant of applied pressure. It feels terrible and Keith fucking hates it.

“What the fuck,” he says again for emphasis, because how is he supposed to explain this to Shiro? Shiro, gotta move out, live under the sea, doing fish things? That's not going to happen.

He tries to get up a few times, to find footing even though he knows it's impossible. Because if he doesn't try to fight his tail, what is he going to do?

A few unsuccessful attempts later, hands and forearms covered in grass stains and dirt, he thinks that if he can't get up and walk away, he can still crawl his way back to safety. (His mind helpfully supplies him with Lance's name and face, apparently the only choice at hand as Shiro is still at work and Lance is the only human in Keith's life that he knows like the back of his hand. And for the first time ever it actually proves useful because Keith knows that around this time Lance is training for an upcoming swimming competition.)

Digging his elbows into the ground, Keith crawls his way off the grass, only to be met by the rough texture of the pavement that scrapes across his abdomen and tail in the most painful way possible. Dragging skin (or scales for that matter) across asphalt is admittedly not the smartest decision Keith has ever made.

For a moment he contemplates just rolling the whole way, but he’s as quick to dismiss it entirely when he experimentally rolls onto his back and sees the blood and dust clinging to his skin. Maybe the pavement had been rougher than anticipated.

His head drops onto the ground with a low thud, and Keith can’t hold back an exasperated groan. If anyone’s going to see him, he’s sure to find himself within a fish tank in under an hour. (Is he able to breathe underwater? What if he’s just a dude with a fish tail and can’t even breathe underwater, but they think he’s some kind of mythical mermaid creature in desperate need of water, and he drowns?) This can’t possibly get any worse, he thinks.

The sprinkler splutters to a halt, and the only thing Keith can hear is the crying and chattering of the seagulls and the ships and boats dashing through the water not too far away. Just one single human being with binoculars could end his suffering – or his life, depending on their nature. At least he’s still in the sun, slowly but steadily drying off (and out? He’s still not sure how this is supposed to work).

In the end, it doesn’t take too long for him to be completely dry again and a prickling sensation to set in in his legs – tail, whatever. He wonders surprisingly clear headed if this is how he’s going to die. Just softly prickling to death until nothing is left but a few stray red scales.

But instead of losing consciousness or ascending into another plane of existence, the collar of his shoe starts digging into his heel rather uncomfortably. Keith wonders if he did something wrong in this or in his past life to deserve dying with a shoe collar pressing into his Achilles tendon.

Keith shoots upright with wide eyes and stares at his shoes, at the exposed skin of his shin and finally his grey joggers, trying to comprehend that the tail is gone. No scales, no fins, nothing. Not a single trace of his mermaid moment. This time around, Keith wonders if he hit his head on Mako Island, and the resulting concussion made him hallucinate for about ten minutes.

He doesn’t know what to do or think, so he jumps up and takes up his run again, changing directions towards the public pool in hope of catching Lance.

The pool comes in sight in record time, and if Keith had more on his mind than fuckfuckfuck, he’d probably be at least a little bit proud of the fact that he’s not panting in utter exhaustion as he passes through the gates and heads straight for the pool Lance is most likely to train.

When he reaches the pool, he can already spot Lance’s brown head of hair, surprisingly dry. Not a single drop of water clings to his skin even though he’s sitting right next to the water, only inches separating him from being able to dip his toes. His arms wrapped around his knees, he rests his head on them, too, gaze loosely directed at the surface, but Keith’s quick to realise that Lance doesn’t actually look at the water. He’s far off with his thoughts, and he almost jumps in shock when Keith flops down beside him.

“Jesus Christ, Keith,” Lance exclaims, hand pressed against his rapidly beating heart, “make a noise, dude.”

Keith doesn’t answer, studying Lance’s pale face instead, almost reaching out to touch one of Lance’s freckles to will the rest of his face into colour again, but he holds himself back in the last second possible, hand hovering aimlessly in the air until he places it gently on Lance’s shoulder as if that had been the plan all along.

“Everything okay?” Keith asks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Lance replies defensively, obviously not good in the slightest. “You spooked me, that’s all.”

Keith nods, and silence engulfs them for a few heartbeats while they look at each other. Keith with an imploring gaze, Lance with a closed off expression as if he’d stand a chance not telling Keith what’s going on with him.

“Did something happen?” Keith asks after a moment because if Lance is in a bad mood, his ten-minute fish tail hallucination can surely wait half an hour or longer. Maybe he doesn’t have to talk about it at all again. If he’s waiting long enough, he’ll forget it himself. Maybe. Eventually.

Lance (who is really, really bad at keeping anything secret from Keith) almost mewls in uneasiness, but quickly corrects his outburst with a dismissive: “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Maybe,” Keith agrees, trying to keep his tone light. “Maybe I will. You’ll never know if you don’t at least try.”

Furrowing his brow, Lance seems to contemplate Keith’s words, weighing his options against each other, growing visibly more anxious with every second that ticks by. But Keith keeps quiet, gives Lance the space to make up his mind. And even if he doesn’t want to (and even if it will be the hardest thing to do) if Lance decides that he doesn’t want to tell Keith, then Keith will accept that, too. (Is that character growth? Shiro’ll be so proud of him, disgusting.)

From one second to the other, Lance’s gaze hardens in earnestness, and he straightens up, turning towards Keith, opening up his whole posture to puff up his chest while he says determinedly: “I can’t tell you.” He pauses as if to muster up all the courage in his bones. “But I can show you.”

In one flowing movement, Lance stands up and extends his hand for Keith to take, then he hoists him up with surprisingly little effort, and Keith’s cheeks heat up embarrassingly. But Lance doesn’t pay him any mind, just drags him along with their still intertwined hands.

“You can’t show me here?” Keith asks in confusion, watching Lance shake his head in response.

“I cannot. Under no circumstance,” Lance replies, not slowing down in the slightest when Keith almost trips on his own feet trying to trail after him.

They leave Lance’s bag behind, and Keith is soon to realise that they’re walking towards the beach, the rocky part where Keith knows for certain that the possibility of running into other people is slim. – He has no idea whatsoever why Lance would drag him there.

“Why did you come anyway?” Lance asks absentmindedly, clearly preoccupied with his own problem at hand.

So, Keith decides that it really, really doesn’t matter what he thought he experienced, and says dismissively: “Nothing of importance. It can wait”, and it can. Lance’s thing is much more important, whatever it may be. (And if Keith gets enough distance between himself and the aching scrapes on his stomach, then he can ignore the episode forever. Probably.)

“Okay,” Lance says lowly, and they don’t talk for the remainder of their way. Which is unsettling in its own way, because Keith can count on one hand the times that Lance hasn’t filled their silence with mindless chatter and exaggerated retellings of stories Keith has heard a hundred times before. Not one of those times had been a happy one.

He tries to swallow down the agitation welling up inside him, but it’s harder than anticipated to swallow down something that has already nested just inches shy of his stomach. Needless to say that he doesn’t feel calmer when they finally reach the beach and Lance climbs down the stairs, still pulling at Keith’s hand to ensure that he’s still following, still coming, still present.

After a short walk around and over a few large rocks, they reach a small part of the beach that is entirely secluded from the rest, sheltered from prying eyes and curious minds, and Lance comes to a halt, back still turned to Keith, but still holding onto Keith’s hand as if he’s in constant fear of Keith disappearing on him. (As if Keith could leave Lance. As if anything on this planet could make Keith leave Lance. It’s ridiculous.)

“I’m going to show you something,” Lance says before turning around and staring into Keith’s face, looking for something Keith can’t comprehend. “And you’re going to stay calm.”

“Yeah, I thought that’s why we’re here,” Keith retorts impatiently, agitation growing steadily, but Lance doesn’t let himself be bothered by Keith’s temperament. They’ve known each other for so long, Lance is probably not surprised by anything Keith does anymore. (Well, except the whole tail thing. Which Keith won’t bring up, so Lance doesn’t even get the chance to be surprised. Check and mate or whatever.)

A shaky smile appears on Lance’s lips, and he lets go of Keith’s hand all of a sudden, leaving behind a sense of loss Keith only experiences when Lance touches him and withdraws again. It’s a unique feeling that reminds him unpleasantly of the equally unique flutter in his abdomen whenever he sees Lance after too much time apart. (Too much is a malleable phrase, because on some days Keith can’t even escape the flutter when Lance comes back from the kitchen after getting up to fetch them a glass of water or a snack for their movie night.)

Lance walks backwards, eyes trained on Keith, until only a few inches separate him from the roll of the waves lapping against the sandy shore. With a last shaky breath, Lance repeats: “Remember, stay calm,” and takes a huge step backwards, suddenly ankle-deep in salt water.

For a moment, nothing happens. Lance just stares at him in apprehension, obviously waiting for something to happen. Keith is about to open his mouth to ask Lance what the fuck he’s thinking he’s doing, when the water around Lance’s feet starts to bubble, and his knees give out under him, sending him into the shallow water with a surprised yelp.

“What the fuck,” Keith hears himself say, not for the first time today, and most likely not for the last. “Lance!”

Keith stumbles forward a few steps, scrambling towards Lance, but he freezes as soon as his feet come too close to the steady waves, because now that he’s not only focused on Lance’s toppling, he realises that Lance seems to be more disgruntled and unhappy than hurt. Which could be caused by the large blue fish tail he wears like his least favourite shoes.

“What the fuck,” Keith repeats, loud enough for Lance to hear him, too. Because, let’s be honest, what else could he possibly say. Today is one big clusterfuck of a shitshow, and Keith doesn’t have the emotional range anymore to respond accordingly.

“I don’t know, man,” Lance calls back, even though Keith could probably hear him too if he were whispering. “You’re not going to, like, freak out on me, are you?”

“No,” Keith lies, you know, like a liar. He even shakes his head for good measure.

Displaying his vast knowledge of Keith’s tone of voice and every single expression Keith could sport at any given moment, Lance says: “Sure thing, buddy, please don’t, like, pass out or anything, I couldn’t catch you if I tried.”

“Yeah,” Keith says. He says: “No. I get it.”

“You do?” Lance’s voice is sceptical, and he furrows his brows again. Obviously dissatisfied with Keith’s reaction to the whole situation. Or rather lack of reaction. (Maybe he doesn’t know Keith as well as Keith knows him. Or maybe Keith is a terrible human being with one puzzle piece up his sleeve that Lance can’t possibly know about.)

“Yeah, still in shock, I guess,” Keith replies easily, toeing his shoes off his feet and taking the smallest step known to man toward the water. “Funny thing is that I came by to talk to you, too.”

“You said it’s not important,” Lance responds, face growing even more disgruntled. “We’re talking about my thing right now, Keith, get with the program.”

That pries a self-deprecating chuckle from Keith’s lips, and he draws in another deep breath, before he steps forward, cold sea water embracing his feet like an old friend. – Maybe they’re really friends now, considering the big fucking tail that appears where Keith’s legs have been until a second ago, sending him down into the water right on top of Lance who’s yelping in surprise again.

“You dick,” Lance splutters, mouth full of sea water. But then his eyes zero in on Keith’s tail and they grow wide in shock. He scrambles, fingers digging into wet sand until they hit Keith’s scales for the first time and hold onto them like Keith’s tail is Lance’s lifeline. Lance screeches: “This is not important? Not relevant enough to mention once?”

Being propped up on his elbows complicates Keith’s attempts of shrugging, but he thinks he’s getting the point across when he retorts: “You said you had something on your mind.”

For the first time almost completely engulfed by water, Keith tries to ignore the burning of the salt in the scrapes on his stomach, only to relent and navigate his tail into the same direction as Lance’s while rolling onto his back to lift his stomach out of the water.

Meanwhile Lance questions: “Have you always been a merman? Did you bite me to turn me into a merman, too?”, completely ignoring Keith’s admission. He eyes the contrast of their tails – red and blue, both unnatural like poisonous fishes –, wandering until they settle on his stomach, finally taking in Keith’s scratched up skin. “What happened to you?”

“Went for a run, got into contact with water, didn’t know it would end when it dries off, tried to move on asphalt anyway,” Keith rattles off detachedly, taking in the way Lance’s tail bleeds out into his back, singular scales just shy off the dimples above his hip bone. (The tail looks far better on Lance, but Keith won’t say that out loud.) “You seriously think I’d werewolf you into becoming a mermaid, Lance?”

“Maybe merfolk is immortal, and you just can’t live without me anymore,” Lance replies smugly, obviously growing accustomed to the thought that they’re amphibian now. Or whatever else the fuck mermaids are.

Keith decides to give Lance one more win to keep him from getting anxious again, even though he’s not sure if Lance really needs another reason to be self-complacent: “Well, if I were an immortal mermaid and I could turn you into my kind with a bite, maybe I’d do it.”

Lance grins at him now, big and wide and rosy-cheeked, and he lifts his wet hand to gently brush a strand of Keith’s hair out of his face. He doesn’t take his hand back, however. It settles on Keith’s cheek instead, cool skin soothing Keith’s fluttering nerves.

“You know,” Lance says, and his words don’t have the same joking quality to them anymore, clearing a path for earnestness that threatens to spill into Keith’s heart, “if I had to spend eternity with an immortal fish, I’d rather it be you.”

And Lance doesn’t know what he elicits in Keith’s soul, that he throws blotting paper into the burning hot flames of Keith’s yearning right beneath his skin. Lance doesn’t know, and it infuriates Keith greatly, beyond anything else. – And in extenuation of Keith as a person, he never said he’s got any impulse control, and just because he’s grown as a person since his angry teenage years, don’t make him less of a hothead. So, it’s to exactly no one’s surprise that Keith reaches out to Lance, cupping his face hastily and probably a little bit on the rough side to pull him close enough to kiss him.

Keith is not a strong man – mentally wise. He’s really, really weak emotionally speaking. And not kissing Lance has been on his agenda for so long now that he surprises himself with the fact that he didn’t do it sooner. Because only now that he actually does it, he realises just how natural it feels to have Lance pressed against him, bare skin on bare skin.

It doesn’t take long for Keith to realise that Lance hasn’t exactly kissed him back, which is as unsettling as it is anxiety inducing, so he pulls back only to be met by Lance’s wide eyes and slack jaw. Keith’s hand falls down, leaves Lance’s face hurriedly, but Lance stays glued to Keith’s cheek, mouth opening in quiet awe. (Oh, God, Keith really hopes it’s awe.)

“You kissed me,” Lance says matter-of-factly, eyes still widened in surprise.

Keith sighs sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“And we’re both some kind of weird half-mermaid,” Lance states for good measure.

Keith averts his eyes, not knowing where to look instead. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” Lance says.

“What the fuck,” Keith agrees.

And then Lance’s lips find his again, and he’s suddenly confronted with half a lap of blue fish tail while Lance’s second hand joins his first, burying themselves into Keith’s hair like it’s the only thing they were ever intended to do.

This time, Keith doesn’t immediately kiss back, still kind of reeling from the whiplash of Lance throwing himself at Keith. And Lance pulls back, almost bending over backwards in an attempt to give Keith some space if he wants it, because Lance is a good guy. (Which is probably the reason Keith fell for him in the first place.)

“This wasn’t some spur of the moment split second decision, was it?” Lance asks almost breathlessly. “You’re not going to back out on me, are you?”

“Kinda, I mean: No—well, I didn’t plan on it,” Keith says, shaking his head to drive his point home. Whatever that point may be. “Not going to back out, though. Don’t worry.”

Lance’s face almost splits in half with a smile so blindingly boyish that Keith forgets to breathe for a moment. He wants to frame this moment, savour it for as long as possible, and never ever let go of Lance’s face or arms or hip. (He will, they can’t stay in the water forever. But a guy can dream, right?)

(Kissing Lance is intoxicating, and it definitely makes up for the throng of hypothetical questions and hypotheses Lance throws his way in between, trying to examine every last possibility of their new state of being before plunging into the water and experiencing it first-hand, even though Keith can’t answer one of them because he’s as new to this as Lance. – Kissing Lance might even be the best thing Keith has ever done, and while he’s still a bit peeved that it took them so long to finally do it, he can’t help himself but think that he doesn’t mind the tail as much now that it is evident that it’s the catalysator of bottled-up feelings Keith didn’t think he could have endured any longer.)

Being a merman is kind of amazing. (Even if Pidge doesn’t agree.)

#voltron: legendary defender #klance #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #schmok writes #fanfiction #mermaid lance #mermaid keith #h20: just add water

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 193

193 When Lance fell asleep, their roles had reversed. Keith calling Shiro to check in, after overhearing how they hadn’t really talked to anyone. The conversation with his brother wasn’t that long due to him not wanting to leave Lance. Knowing Krolia, whatever advice she’d given him was probably shit, though, as Lance had said, his mother was probably the closest person he could turn to advice for this. Coran may have had a pretty interesting past, but as far as Keith knew, he’d never been on the end of being pregnant. Pidge... wasn’t exactly maternal, and Allura... was Allura. She’d make a good mother... in her own way. Maybe this trip would have been better if they’d invited the others? Not so much Rieva and Matt, but Pidge and Hunk. “Keith?”Hearing Lance call his name, he forced himself out the bathroom. It was now closer to dusk than to dawn. Lance had needed time to cry out his frustrations“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”“Better... thirsty... and sorry”Sorry because they hadn’t been to see his dad yet... Keith was slightly annoyed by that fact, but not mad. Lance hadn’t asked for his ego to start being a pain in the arse, and with all the stress he’d been putting himself under, he really needed the rest“Do you want some blood?”“We didn’t do my injection”Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that“Do you want to go the bathroom, and I’ll get it organised?”“Okay” It felt like nothing now to draw a bit of blood for Lance’s injections. The fear of the curse had lessened. Lance would have never tried to feed off Matt or Rieva, even in a desperate situation. But whether it be luck, or Lance’s own curse, it seemed to kill the werewolf curse before it could turn their twins. Maybe Lance had a point about some of their more careless activities? They shouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room, they both shared moments with their egos that really hurt, but he hadn’t been thinking of his own safety since turning. Just the safety of everyone they called family. Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sat beside him on their bed. Resting his against Keith’s shoulder, he sighed softly “Okay... inject away”The injection always only took a moment. In, inject, out, then Lance would rub at the healing mark. His boyfriend sighing again, overthinking things“You needed to let it out”“I know. I feel like I’ve brought the whole mood down and I hate it. You must be starving”Yep. He was. His metabolism was something crazy. The amount of food he consumed was frankly scary“I’m okay. Here, have some blood and we can think about getting something to eat”“I thought I had this planned. You know? We’d have breakfast, than go see your dad. Clean his grave up. Talk to him... A mental breakdown wasn’t scheduled”“Are they ever? Did mum help?”“She’s no Mami when it comes to advice. She said to chuck my fear out the window”Keith snorted“Right. Because it’s totally that easy. Was she okay?” They didn’t know if she was coming or not. Not with her work schedule. Keith kind of hoped she would, yet she’d made indications of it. Like, would he even recognise his father’s grave? And what did he say? “Yeah. She was her usual self. I called her for advice, but I know she was disappointed it wasn’t you”“Nah. She loves you. I think she even likes you better than me”“She’s your mum. She loves you. She’s pretty worried how this is affecting you. I could tell”“I’m okay... kind of. I’m getting there. Umm... Nothing time with my beautiful boyfriend won’t fix” Lance groaned at him“Babe, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay. I’m hardly beautiful... I’m like... the very definition of a wreck right now”“You’ll be okay. Here, wrist or um... neck?”“Wrist... sorry... it’s just easier in this position”“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry”He’d noticed something. Lance only liked to feed on his neck when they were making out or in the heat of things. His fingers when Lance was trying to be quite mid do“I am. I love you so much. So so much. I neglected your safety... and you’re still being... so good to me”“Idiot. I love you. Your hunger won’t last forever. I should have gotten some blood into while you slept... it’s bad to let your... um... levels drop”“I’ll be okay. They’re still okay... I think one of them tried to break my rib when I was in the bathroom” Keith loved hearing the twins were moving. Even when it was uncomfortable for Lance, he felt like he was hearing cute stories he wouldn’t be able to forget. He didn’t think he had the patience to be pregnant... which only made him prouder of strength Lance showed“They take after you. All silent and deadly”“Babe, I’m not a fart”Keith hadn’t thought of that, chuckling as he shook his head“I know. You smell awful in a good way. Not like my lactose farts”“Eh. They’re part of you. A couple of wads of tissue up my nose and you’d never tell”“I’ll remember that for next time. Here, eat something. Don’t be afraid if you need a little more” That was something else Keith noticed. Lance took care with the amount of blood he took from him, but the volume seemed like it would be a lot for a human. Very rarely he felt light headed, questioning if he’d be conscious if he was still human. He’d never tell Lance. He’d freak out immediately, plus fluids and a good meal had him back in shape in no time. Lance moaned as he bit into Keith’s wrist, reminding him he’d have to make more of an effort. Maybe it’d be for the best if he ran an IV line for Lance tonight, just to get his hunger knocked on the head completely. Pulling off, Lance lapped at the trails of bloodied spit left on Keith’s arm. The wounds starting to heal instantly“Better?”Catching a few small beads pushed out by the healing wound, Lance hummed “Mmm... I know this isn’t comfortable for you”It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It stroked his pride to provide for their boyfriend the one thing he needed above all else“I’m fine, babe. As long as you’ve had enough”“Yeah... I’m good. I’m still sorry. I think I’ve been taking more and more of late”“Nah, it’s fine. But I was thinking we should probably set you up with an IV later, seeing how little you ate today. You need to keep your fluids up”“But keeping my fluids out means I have to pee”Whining at him, Lance was too cute“I love you and your walnut sized bladder anyway”“I think it’s more like a grape at this stage. I’m sorry my ego chuckled a wobbly... and that we spent most of today in bed”“There’s nothing more that I love, than spending the day in bed with you”“Pervert. I’m serious though. I don’t want to be scared like that. I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you. All of it”“You might not like all of it”“I don’t know. I think we both know that I’m like crazy stupid in love with you and all those little things that drive me crazy only make me love you more” Keith groaned softly. He’d become weak to Lance. Last real story he had left to share with his boyfriend was the night Shiro saved his arse. Lance knew most of it. Keith couldn’t remember what he’d told him, nor was he sure why he’d never told him all of it. Being on the streets had taken a toll, and the thought of a warm bed and decent shower left him going with people he already knew were no good for him. They’d offered him a good time when he’d been so completely done with fighting to be alive“Alright. How about we go get dinner and figure things out from there”“Mmmm... sounds good to me. Let me change, then we’ll go”“I probably need to freshen up too”“I hate to say it but we both kind of stink” From sweat. Under the blankets left them both sweating in their sleeps. Lance smelt deader than ever, with Keith not far off. Personally he didn’t mind stinking of Lance, but Lance felt like he needed to do more to protect Keith with things like being careful with his scent“Want to take first shower while I look for somewhere good to eat?”“Sounds like a plan... I... don’t know if I’ll freak out again”“It’s okay. If you do, we can totally go. I know we’re here to see my dad, but your safety and comfort comes first. I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me”“I know. I won’t take too long”“Don’t go rushing. The last thing we need is for you to slip. That sounded harsher than what I meant”Lance shook his head at him“It’s okay, we both know I’m a klutz. I’ll be careful. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to risk them”“I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you being hurt”“I’ll be fine... Let me freshen up, then you can take me out for dinner” Lance kissed Keith’s wrist where he’d fed. Keith couldn’t believe the passage of time since meeting Lance had moved so fast. It must have been a year now, or very close to a year. This time last year, he’d have thought himself turned and cursed with a single bite. The Blades really did teach some total bullshit when he stopped to consider all of things he hadn’t thought of before. He’d been such a dumb arse. Luckily he had Lance to set him straight... or not so straight... though he wasn’t sure what he was as it was Lance he loved and not only his physical body. Realising how easily he could fall into an internal debate over all of that, he gave a shake of his head. Lance said he’d let him take him to dinner, so that’s what he was going to do. *Holding Keith’s hand, the freshness of the night felt nice against Lance’s skin. Keith either hadn’t bothered looking up somewhere else to eat, or he’d been trying to please Lance, resulting in dinner at the same restaurant they’d had breakfast at. This time Lance figured out what was wrong with the place. As they’d finished dinner, the waitress had come to collect to their plates, on her arm balanced by the nozzle was a bottle of orange scented surface spray. Being a public restaurant, smells of all sorts bombarded his senses from the moment they walked. With so many scents, he hadn’t consciously noticed the orange surface spray. The fact that Sendak still held such a hold over him left Lance unable to enjoy his meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was good, Pidge would have loved the idea of sneakily signing them up for the weekend Karaoke competition, then abusing everyone heckling her over bad singing... He missed those days. He missed not being pregnant and not fearing his scent. Heck, he missed ghost hunting. He missed watching Pidge get super enthused as Hunk prayed for it all to be over. The restaurant was the kind of place he could see himself having a few quite drinks had the place been in Garrison. The kind of place that Sal’s had been to them before he’d had to hideaway his changing body. The Lord knew he was looking forward the day they could all go out again. He was going to order the biggest, greasiest, slimiest, cheesiest pizza in existence. Maybe even have Sal get some cigarette ash in there for that true diner flavour... “Want to take a walk?”No. Maybe... He wanted to go home to bed... but he’d spent the day in the hotel room. Staring past Keith, the stars twinkled over the town as if trying to say that nothing bad could ever happen here, which was a bold faced lie if ever there was one. Keith drew strength from the moon, and both of them had eye sight sharp enough to walk around in the dark safely enough... plus... it’d give them time to get the layout of the town down... His boyfriend seemed to be oblivious to internal wavering, Lance wondering if this was his way of easing into things he either wanted to tell, or easing into seeing his father... or even a chance to cover his arse when Shiro asked how much of the town they’d gone out and seen“Sure. There’s a park a few blocks down. I saw it on the town map”“You saw a town map?”“Did you really not look this place up at all? They have a similar lay out to Garrison, which makes sense in a way... they were both trade posts at some time, though I’ve got not idea what they could have pulled out of all the sand”“I didn’t even know that much. It’s like... all I remember is the shack... all of it feels like being on another planet”Lance slid his hand into Keith’s “It’s a good thing I’m here to keep you grounded. Don’t even think about packing your bags for another planet. You’re not leaving me behind”“I’m sure that if I ever got spirited away into space, you’d be right there with me”“Yep. Probably screaming my head off the whole time too”“I think I would be too. Let’s go, I’ll follow your lead”“Don’t you always?” Keith kissed his cheek. Lance blushing lightly as his boyfriend replied “yep”, followed by two more kisses on his cheek. Lance would follow Keith to the ends of the Earth, with Keith just as happy to follow him instead. Unless one of them made the decision, they’d be following each other around in circles for the rest of their lives... That didn’t actually sound too bad... Walking down to the park, the town had a nice vibe to it. Lance felt bad for whoever was in charge of cleaning the park’s rubbish bin after his dinner decided to make a reappearance before they’d reached the toilets towards the middle of the park. Cleaning up, and using the facilities, the pair of them settled themselves down on the swings. It’d been months since he’d been on a swing set, in Cuba, yet it had to be longer for Keith. Dragging his feet in the sand to make a heart, he supposed they looked like a couple of kids up to no good. He’d seen enough memes that he knew adults missed swing sets, and he knew he definitely counted in their ranks. Pushing off lightly, the chain creaked under his weight. A memory of Veronica coming to mind from back when having a baby brother that was a vampire was something cool. He’d wanted to go higher and higher, the pegs of the swing set shaking, so Luis and Marco held it down as he swung as high as he could get. He’d been sure if he’d gotten a little higher he could have looped the chain around the top, but Papi had lost it at the four of them“You seem happy”“Mmm. I like swings”Letting the swing slow naturally, Lance grinned at his boyfriend mischievously. They had the whole playground to themselves “What about you? What’s your favourite piece of playground equipment?” Keith hummed. He’d been making a mound between his shoes, trying to keep the sand from slipping back down “I hate the monkey bars”“Oh? What’d they ever do to you?”“A shit kid at one of the families threw a rock at me because I could pull myself up to sit on top of them. It hit me in the head and I fell off backwards”“Wow. That kid sounds like a wanker”Keith nodded, expression semi serious “They were. I got in trouble for falling off”“That’s kind of what kids do though. They play and climb... it’s what kids are supposed to do”Keith sighed, before shaking his head“It doesn’t matter now. I can’t even remember their face, let alone why they through the rock”“They were probably jealous because you’re so much cooler than them. I bet you were a totally rad kid. I wish I’d known you then” Lance didn’t think about what he’d said. He felt like kicking himself as Keith mumbled “Right. The fucked up orphan no body wanted was a “rad kid””“Hey. No. No. That is not on you. Not at all. Adults are supposed to be there and be the strong ones. Not kids. I sincerely wish I could lord over every single person who hurt you, how fucking amazing you are”Keith gave a scoff of disbelief. Lance saddened that his boyfriend’s anxiety had gotten to him this badly. Climbing off his swing, the vampire wrinkled his nose at the sand pouring into his shoes as he moved to stand behind Keith“What are you doing?”“I’m going to push you?” Wasn’t that obvious? He’d waddled his pregnant arse all the way behind Keith. The only logical conclusion was he was going to push him on the swing“You don’t have to”“Maybe I want to? Maybe I want to play in the park because there’s no one else around. No bad scents. No blood. No spirits. No yucky feelings other than the sand under my socks...”“It is a nice park”“Right? Now, hold on” Pushing Keith on the swing, Keith gradually loosened up, even starting to laugh as Lance backed off and watched“You can do it, babe!”“I’m totally going to jump off, you know that, right?”“It’s like an unwritten law of swinging, seeing how far you can jump”“I think I have an advantage...”“Doesn’t matter. I’m totally challenging you to a swing off once these two are born”“That’s not fair, you’ve got wings”Lance huffed. They had a mind of their own, much like the rest of his body “Which are mostly useless. I can’t even fly around as a bat”“That’s fine. Ready?”“Go for it!” Keith jumped a little too soon, half faceplanting in the sand. With the way he landed, Lance rushed to his side to find his boyfriend laughing“Are you okay?”“I fucked that up”Kicking Keith lightly in the side with the toe of his shoe, his boyfriend rolled over, smiling like an idiot. Lance’s heart had stopped with the way Keith landed, now the idiot was smiling so happy he felt all warm inside “You had me worried!”“I guess I’m not that great at sticking the landing”“You weren’t that great at jumping. You went before the swing was at the right height!”“You make it sound like you’re training me for the Olympics” Channeling the best sports commentator voice he could, Lance’s voice wobbled slightly as he tried not to laugh at how funny he was“You don’t get at a ten-point-zero for your landing. Zero style. Very simplistic. Could this spell the end for Keith Kogane’s budding career before he even goes professional?”Keith laughed. A proper unguarded laugh. Lance feeling the luckiest man in the world to hear it “I’m being serious!”“Uh huh. Sure you are. You know, the stars are really pretty. I feel like I can see them way better than before”“That’s because all your senses increased. Werewolves and vampires are kind of night creatures”“I still don’t know how to turn into a wolf. I don’t know if it counts”“It totally does... Now, are you getting up? Or should I pick you up in the morning?”Keith patted the sand next to him“You could come down here”“Or you could come up here... I’m too pregnant to deal with sand”“Fair point. We have the whole park to ourselves... I don’t think I’ve ever really... just... you know...” That Keith hadn’t played on a playground saddened Lance. Even as an adult, playgrounds were still fun. With no one around to watch them, there was no point being responsible adults“You know, there’s a slide over there... and a flying fox...”“Babe...”Keith tried to dismiss the idea, Lance using “boyfriend” which proved very effective. Damn Pidge. She’d gone and put that back into his head at her birthday party“Come on, it’ll be fun. I mean, I probably can’t use the spinner, not unless you want to scramble the twins, but the slide never gets old”“Fine, but if we get in trouble, you’re taking the blame”Lance shrugged. They weren’t violating any laws that he knew of. They weren’t intoxicated. Nor were they committing property damage or trespassing“The lawyer in me tells me it’s going to be okay”“I’ll remember that when I get my one phone-call”“You better. Though it would be a conflict of interest to represent you, so let’s not get in trouble?” The did indeed get into trouble. Keith got wedged in the kids slide, and Lance was too tall for the flying fox, so that was disappointing. They were still messing around when the lights of a cruiser flashed red and blue, the two of them called over by a police officer who looked unable to catch them, even if they had been human. Swallowing down his fear, Lance took Keith by the hand, walking him over to the officer when Keith kept telling him they should run. Getting closer, the man clearly didn’t expect two fully grown adults to be playing in the park so late at night. “Officer, how are you tonight?”Putting on an air of responsibility, Lance felt he’d be the more convincing adult of the pair of them“I had a call about teenagers mucking around in the park. Want to tell me about it?”Keith snorted with laughter, Lance stepping on his foot to shut him up“That was us, sir. I’m sorry if we created a disturbance. We’re on holiday, you know, before the twins come, and wanted to have a little fun. I had no idea we we’re causing a disturbance” Keith tried to muffle his laughter, Lance mentally rolling his eyes at his boyfriend who was clearly upsetting the police officer. Huffily, the man asked“So I’m not going to find any of that junky paraphernalia you young people are into these days?”“No, sir. I know we might look young, but I’m 46 and my boyfriend here is 28. No drugs, or alcohol, sir”The man looked them up and down, Lance waited for something along the lines of “I wouldn’t lie to a police officer, if I was you”. Instead the man sighed“Look. You can’t be playing in the park at midnight. You’re obviously not locals. You staying at the hotel?”“Yes, sir. My boyfriend is a photographer, we’re travelling to work on his portfolio. Sorry. We wanted to have a little fun with no one around”“I’ll have you save that sort of fun for a more appropriate environment. Get in the back, I’ll give you both a ride back”Lance immediately shook his head“We’re both able to walk back...”“That wasn’t an invitation. We get a lot of blow ins for this damn Easter festival the town insists on having. The last thing I need is the pair of you thinking your entitled to cause trouble. Get in” Lance felt like a scolded school child as he did as he was told, Keith sliding in beside him, though his boyfriend still thought they should run. Clipping their belts in obediently, Lance bit his bottom lip. Maybe they’d gotten carried away? He didn’t think they were being too loud. All they’d been doing was acting like idiots. They hadn’t damaged any property... plus Keith had gotten on the spinner, which had been hilarious given how much strength he could put into a spin. His boyfriend had gotten off with shaky legs, tripped, fell in the grass and burst out laughing. Lance knew he should stay quiet, but this was a golden chance“Excuse me, have you been an officer here very long?”The man met his eyes before pulling away from the park curb“Long enough” Damn. He wasn’t giving him anything“Do you happen to know anything about the fire that took place here about 20 years ago?”Keith’s heart started racing harder. Yeah. He should have been considerate about Keith’s feelings, but this was like the perfect chance“Oh, I know about that fire alright. One dead. 250,000 dollars worth of damages. I don’t know why you’re bringing that up, but you’re best dropping it. A lot of people were hurt by that incident. Damn candle left unattended. The place went up faster than a whore’s knickers drop”“If one wanted to know about the fire, is there a local registrar office?” The office pressed the breaks suddenly, instead of gently stopping at the stop sign“Look. I’m sure you’re nice... whatever you are. But what happened that day is no laughing matter. We lost one of our own that day. It’s an ugly scar on the history of this town and I won’t have the pair of you treating it like a joke”Whelp. He’d gone and made him angry“I mean absolutely no disrespect. It’s such a horrible thing to have happened. When you saw you lost one of your own, I assume you mean an officer?” Resuming driving, the man sighed at him as if he was stupid, their eyes meeting again in the rear view mirror “No. Not an officer. One of our local fire fighters. They tried to stop the blazing jumping house, when the second floor came down. Horrible tragedy. We lost a fine man that day”“Did you know him?”“Aye, we all did. Bit of a loner. Kept to himself, especially after his missus skipped town. Heeee... had a boy from memory. Hard worker though. That boy... he was tiny thing of a kid. Still, he gave everything he could to that boy. He ended up vanishing, just like his mother. Couldn’t tell ya where she went. Up and vanished as suddenly as she appeared here. No idea how the pair of them met, and before we knew it, she was up the duff, then gone a couple of years later. Couldn’t handle the stresses of being a parent, if you ask me anything about it”“And all of this is public record?”“Bits and pieces. Look. I won’t tell you again, losing Joe hurt a lot of people here. He was a good man. Kind of man you never really knew what was thinking. But when he saw his boy, he’d light up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Loved that kid, he did. He was real torn up when his woman shot through, but never blamed his boy. We often used to wonder what happened to that kid, ah, but I suppose it’s one of those things you’d never know” The officer was letting his accent show. Keith seemed on the edge of tears“Say we didn’t want to drop it, is there anyone from around there that we can talk to about it”The man fixed him with a glare“People move on. Dredging that up again is only going to cause pain. If I hear you two are stirring up trouble because your curious over something that is none of your business, I will escort you out of town meself” That mean there were indeed people out there who’d been around at the time of the fire and may remember Keith, and his father... and that the council office should have record that’d help them place the pieces of that day together. The last few minutes of the drive was in silence. The officer having to squidge himself out the door in order to open the back door of the cruiser to let them out. The man really didn’t know what to make of Lance, he got it. He looked like a woman and sounded like a man. Some people were so damn backwards that they couldn’t accept change. Lance still opting to be polite, on the off chance they crossed paths again “Thank you for the ride. We’re sorry we caused you trouble”“Don’t let it happen again. There’s laws about these kinds of things. Consider yourselves both lucky and warned”“Yes, sir. Thank you” As the police cruiser left, Keith collapsed against him, sniffling as tears rolled down his face. His boyfriend wrapping his arms around him with a little too much force“Babe?”“He... loved me”With his arms pinned, Lance could only raise his hand enough to pat Keith’s arm “Yeah, babe. He did. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay to ask, but the opportunity to know something more was right in front of us”“He... he still went back in... he...”“He loved you. He loved you, and I know I’m not him. I could never know what he was thinking, but I think all he wanted to do was stop the fire before more people were hurt”“He left me”“Not by choice. You heard that guy. He loved you. He adored you. And he was so proud to be your dad. You... you were loved. You are loved”“Can we go back to the room?”Lance’s heart was breaking for his boyfriend. Sure, they’d learned a little and tomorrow Lance wanted to hit up the council to dig up whatever he could on Keith’s father’s past, but right now...“I was thinking the same thing. I want to hold you”“Please?”“Always, babe. Always and forever” ReplyForward

#Once Bitten #once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #pregnant lance #klance #vld #bottom lance #vampire lance #werewolf keith #soulmates #voltron #mpreg #laith

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Treasure of the Golden Suns Reviews: Wronguay in Ronguay (Paid for by Patreons)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to the genesis of magillicutty Ducktales with the second part of my months long look at Treasure of the Golden Suns, the mini series that kicked off the series. These reviews are a result of me hitting my first patreon stretch goal. I just did a LONGGG post outlining those here on tumblr so hit that up and help join my patreon so I can reach them and make some more moolah to help keep this my primary job.

So speaking of that job we’re back to The Treasure of the Golden Suns and the first chapter, while not bad, was a tad disappointing, especially since I really liked it on first viewing. So will the second chapter fair just as bad or be a massive improvement? The only way to find out is under the cut.

Previously on Ducktales: Donald shoved off with the navy leaving the boys with Scrooge, with both growing to care about one another... both out of nowhere

The boys ended up embroiled int he Beagle Boys theft of a wooden ship for a mysterious gentleman named El Capitan whose preferedd method of dealing with enterlopers.. was to use a chair like a lion tamer. After being falsely blamed for the theft, the boys ended up chasing the beagles to Scrooge’s candy factory, were vindicated and fought them off with Scrooge’s help , ending with the boys getting covered in choclate. while El Capitan escaped vowing to find the gold. Now knowing the wooden ship was a map, the family prepared to set off

And that’s where we pick up. The reporter from last episode comments on the beagle bust and while the Beagles are hauled off, with Burger asking if they have any milk after eating his chocolate prison. Because his only character trait is that...

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The camera does linger on an impression the ship made in the chocolate... hmmmmmm.

Meanwhile we meet FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. As I said with Catch as Cash Can, he’s not BAD, just not NEARLY as memorable as the triumphantly insane 2017 version. He’s sitll a good villian and we’ll see why soon, he just has the unenviable task of competiting with a far more iconic versoin made decades later whose far more my type of bad guy. El Captian calls him and offers to make him the richest duck in the world, which he naturally is happy to hear him out on. El Captian as a character i’ll get into more.. but for now let’s talk about his weird fucking voice. For some reason, Jim is doing a Dr. Claw impression, to the point I thought this was Frank Welker. I will grant it’s better than a horrible latinx sterotype, and given the grand kishke and a minor character in this very episode, they were NOT above those, but its’ still just.. weird. He just sounds like he’s possesed with about 80 or 90 demons for no explained reason.

Back at the mansion, Scrooge and the Boys are both preparing to go after the treasure on the boat map: Scrooge is practicing vacuming it up using the pool and a sea safe vacum likely invented by Gyro, while the boys find the right coordinates to the treasure. Scrooge naturally.. is a bit of a dick about it, refusing to take them along despite them having found it, and saying they can stay with Duckworth. Duckworth’s response is about what you’d expect:

However before they can argue about this, there’s a bang at the door: It’s Flinty and here’s where the parts of this Glomgold I DO like, that do make him standout, if not as much sa his succesor shine: He plays scrooge, offering him 2 million for the Candy Factory. Naturally not realizing what Flinty’s getting out of the deal, Scrooge jumps at a quick and easy 2 million, since he knows it’ll cost MORE than that just to fix up the place. Flinty then proposes a contest: the two of them try to make as much money as possible from scratch in two days. No rules, no barriers, just whoever dosen’t have more money than the other by the end has to eat Flinty’s hat. Scrooge accepts.. but then realizes he has to eat crow and allow the boys along. With Scrooge sufficently blackmailed, the boys reveal where the treasure is: Ronguay, a made up south american county. Why they did so.. well just wait a second. And no it’s not just for the tile... but your close.

No we find out why as they take the cheapest flight avaliable to Ronguay, only for the boys their going the Wrong way to Ronguay.

Yeah I love a good pun but I draw the line at desinging an ENTIRE COUNTRY for a really obvious one. I have standards on this blog! Standards that include thirsting after Keith David , DBZA refrences up the whazoo and posting this gif of David Byrne at every given opportunity.

Look my standards are weird, but their still standards. I draw the line at making a stupid pun when there’s a rich number of countries in South America. I’m not saying Carl Barks was ever against making up a country, he probably did, could be wrong, but more often than not he did his homework instead, as did his succesor Don Rosa. It feels lazy to just make up a country when you really don’t have to and could’ve just found one with a massive rainy season for your children’s cartoon. It’s not hard. I mean it’s harder than now: now I could just google “what south american countries have torrental rains”.. but it’s not like you guys could’n’t just go to a bookstore and buy a refrence book or a library and rent one. I mean if they ran out of time to do anyresearch fine, but even for the 1980′s it wasn’t that difficult to at least TRY.

Regardless it turns out the pilot is a robot pilot.. who looks amazing but as it’s a flintheart glomgold company joint is purposfuly tring to keep them off path. Look they didn’t have to unplug the poor guy. I know what he wants.

So now on the right way to Ronguay our heroes lan only to find the locals all fleeing in terror of something. Scrooge heads in for suplies anyway and finds... a VERY racist sounding clerk. Seriously just to picture this.. picture say .. Michael Scott trying to do an mexican accent. You good and cringing? If not, adapt that to your doofus sitcom character or republican senator of choice There you go. You see my point. It’s not the WORST i’ve seen.. but only because I sat through the Rediculous 6 with my best friend, one of three, Cory, for a podcast we tried doing a year or two ago. I’ve seen Rob Schinder do this for an entire movie. In 2015 no less. So my threshold for HORRIFCALLY offensive is vast and deep. But this is still garden variety racist and should not have been okay then or now.

And it really SHOULD have the warning label on it. I’m fully in favor of the content warnings Disney started using, and it’s why I got so fucking annoyed during all the talk about it when it happend to the Muppet Show, ESPECIALLY when the republicans got a hold of it and accused them of “Canceling the muppets”. This is NOT fucking cancelation, this is a way to have the past there for posterity, while acknolding it sucked and was NEVER okay. It’s the best way to do this in my opinon, and it bothers me a LOT that a bunch of jagoffs coopted it and threw a hissy fit about Disney trying to do the right goddamn thing. And i’m also okay with leaving some media out. Disney + is a family platform. While keeping classic movies and shows on there with a proper warning is one thing, it’s another to not put song of the south or that episode of the muppets where the host later turned out ot be a pedophile on there. Some things just don’t have nearly enough worth to outpace the harm they can do. And it’s up to companies and consumers to figure out what fits where.

Anyways our heroes find a llama for transport and that the map is seemingly a dead end to the desert. But Scrooge is determined to press on... and while he does El Capitan and Glomgold are following him, though the two clearly don’t agree on whose in charge, or if El Captian sounds like dr claw or not. They followed with their own copy of the map taken from the chocolate.

As things progress the rain starts.. and our heroes find out via the JWG that this is what the citzens were all running from. They loose the llama, though are able to salvage some of their suplies it was carrying, and Scrooge nearly gives up to dispair. It’s a good, if sudden, character moment: Scrooge genuinely laments that he was worried one day he’d loose his step.. and stop being one step ahead of everyone. It shows some much needed vunerablity.. that beneath his boisterious and cantankerious usual personality he’s deathly afraid his age will eventualy mean he’ll have to stop..and having to stop adventuring and stop working and stop doing eveyrthing that makes him Scrooge McDuck is a fate worse than death.

Thankfully he dosen’t as via a figure on the ship, Huey, Dewey or Louie figures out, in a REALLY amazing twist, that the desert itself was the ocean: the ship that has the treasure simply sailed here and hid it. So while our heroes reflect, Glomgold decides to take them out NOW while he has the chance over El Captian’s protests, as the good captain only cares about the gold. But Glomgold is right.. from a villianous point of view at least. leaving them alive is a waste.. granted he does so.. in a way that makes my brain cry out in pain and want to run. He lights a stick of dynamite. In a torrential rainstorm.

I mean i’d expect 2017 Glomgold to try it and have it fail.. not to have the actually clever 87 version not only try something this stupid BUT HAVE IT WORK. THE FUSE LIGHTS. IT’S READY TO GO OFF. HE ONLY STOPS IT BECAUSE HIS MAP GETS EATEN AND THEY NEED SCROOGE’S IN TACT. JUST HOW DO YOU WHY DO YOU AUGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

Okay i’m.. i’m good now. So after that bit of nonsense and some taking my medication, our heroes take shelter in a cave. The grusome twosome try to sneak in while their asleep.. only to trigger the alarms the boys set up using their pots and pans, a “junior woodchuck alarm”. Clever little bastards.

The tables quickly turn though as Thing one and Thing Two trap our heroes in the cave.. as i’ts flooding. Scrooge has them press on in hopes of finding a way out, and it rises further and furthe ran excenelty tense scene. But eventually our heroes manage to find somewhere safe in time: the shipwrecked boat with all the gold. Scrooge even puts on a nifty golden conquestador’s helmet.

Naturally since we have minutes left in the episode the bad guys show up and have a gun... they never had before.

Regardless our heroes are lowered into the lifeboat at gunpoint as the ship goes out to sea and i’ts revealed el captain worked on teh ship as he knows the full manifest.

However both villians personal flaws end up doing them in: Glomgold’s need to gloat means he gives Scrooge a golden coin as he mocks him about winning the bet... only for El Captain to fly into an insane rage demanding he swim out and get it despite just how LITTLE he really needs the coin. He and Glomgold struggle over the ships canon, both no longer needing the other and eventually fire off a ball that capsizes the ship. El Captian seemingly drowns while Glomgold is forced onto the life boat with the McDucks.. and finds out he lost as while he and Scrooge both lost the treasure the coin he tossed scrooge means Scrooge still has made more money. So Glomgold prepares to eat his hat and El Captian prepares for vengance and to get his gold back.

Final Thoughts on Wronguay in Ronguay: The iffy bit with the store clerk aside.. this episdoe is easily the best 87 Episode i’ve seen. It captures the spirit of barks perfectly with plenty of intresting twists that kept me engaged the whole time, some great jokes, and two great villians who are done in soley by their own greed and neurosusi> it’s really great stuff and what I expected more and remember more from the 87 Series: top notch adventure in the barks style but wiht it’s own unique touches. While the pilot was a bit rough due to all the ground it tried to cover, this episode, now having the basic formula of the series pretty much set, is allowed to just be a fun, daring adventure story that brilliantly builds off the last episode but can be wholly enjoyed on it’s own. Hopefully this momentum keeps because I don’t remember being the fondest of the next two episodes.. and given that content warning I think we’re in for a rough time next month.

If you liked htis join my patreon, etc etc, I went into that mor eup top. Till All Are One, See you at the next Rainbow.

#ducktales #wronguay in ronguay #ducktales 87 #scrooge mcduck #flintheart glomgold #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #el capitain #duckworth #reviews #disney plus #the disney afternoon

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loveafterthefact · 3 years

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Love After the Fact Chapter 77: Three

The ending is in no way significant of anything at all. Definitely.

First Previous Next

Lance comes back in from the gardens with a frosty-furred, very happy wolf cub. Their quarters are still dark, lit only by the crackling fire. “Okay, go find Keith! Come on.”

The cub yawns, walks slow and tired over to the nightstand sniffing Keith’s ignored breakfast curiously. After a varga of play in the frost, Lance is surprised the cub’s got that much left in him.

“Beloved?” Lance gazes at Keith’s curled up form, burrowed into the blankets of their bed. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” It’s not convincing. “I’m just nauseous.”

Keith’s nausea has gotten a lot worse in the last two movements. He’s been skipping breakfast on the regular, and now sometimes lunch. It’s worrying them both that he’s not getting enough nutrients.

Lance frowns, runs fingers through Keith’s hair. “You can tell me if something’s wrong. I can help.”

Keith shakes his head. “I’m just not myself today.”

“Is there really nothing I can do?”

“Just go to breakfast, okay? I’ll be fine... But maybe come visit me later?”

“Of course. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” That at least earns Lance a small smile. He’ll take it. “What are your plans for this afternoon? Lay here and be sick?”

“Mhm. Maybe play with Wolfy and Bleeps a little bit. Try not to freeze to death.”

“Use your cloak. And mine if you want it.” Lance bends down to kiss his temple. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you so much too- Ugh.” Keith curls tighter around his unhappy insides. “I love you as much as I hate nausea.”

“Trash can’s right here if you need to barf; I’ll send food for you if you want it; I’ll come check on you as soon as I can.” With a kiss to Keith’s cheek, Lance leaves their quarters, hoping he’s not too late to breakfast.

In the dining hall, Lance takes his place, picking food off of platters as servants bring them over to him. As he digs into some flowers with honey, he can’t help but notice his father’s keen eye.

“It’s nice of one of you to join us,” Alfor murmurs. Next to him, Coran rolls his eyes, but says nothing. “Where is Keith?”

“Not feeling well. He’ll eat when he’s hungry.”

Alfor’s ice-blue eyes narrow. “I see. Did he contract something on Daibazaal?”

Lance slows his chewing rate, appearing thoughtful. “Possibly. He wasn’t examined very thoroughly when we returned, and Tavo only gave him two injections. I assume it’s because he’s Galra, so there are fewer concerns.”

“Really?” Coran finds an actual reason to cut in. “Perhaps you should talk to him about a more thorough exam?”

“If Keith has any concerns, he will consult Tavo or his own physician back on Daibazaal. I don’t need to do that for him.” Lance shoves a frost lily into his mouth, licking the sweet floral nectar from his lips. “I have a lot to do today. There’s legislature regarding our colonies that needs to be updated, and I need to have new machinery sent to Arus, which requires a completely unnecessary amount of paperwork.”

“If that’s your way of asking to be excused, you may go,” Alfor murmurs, gaze searing into his son. Lance has gotten pretty good at lying lately. But not good enough.

“Thank you.” Lance wipes his mouth, sips his water, flies from his seat.

“And do tell Keith I hope he starts feeling better soon.”

Lance’s hesitating footsteps tell Alfor everything he needs to know. He tucks into his own breakfast, not looking at his husband.

“Dear… Don’t you do it.”

“Do what?” Alfor whines. “I haven’t even done anything!”

“Ah, but you were thinking about it!” Coran’s dark eyes glint with amusement. “Remember what we were talking about? About minding your own business?”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing.”

“...But I want him to know that we will be here for him if he needs us?” Alfor asks, hopeful. Trying.

Coran nods slowly, considering that. “Yes, alright.”

“What, really?” Alfor almost never wins when versus his husband.

“Yes. I think he’d appreciate knowing you want to be there for him. And me of course, but I have to speak with Admiral Sonne on Arus to see what the quiznak is going on. If Lance is this stressed about it, I might have to hop over and knock a few heads together.”

“I hate it when you travel,” Alfor sighs, rising from the table, grunting at the pain in his knees as he straightens his legs. Coran follows suit.

“I know, but it would only be for a few quintants. Maybe a movement or two.”

“That’s so long,” Alfor bemoans.

Coran kisses him, sweet and familiar. “You’ll live, my darling. You always do.”

“Well... If you have to go, I guess you have to go.” Alfor tips forward to rest his head on Coran’s shoulder. Their arms wind into an embrace. “We have some fantastic kids, don’t we?”

“I’m astounded every day.” Coran draws back. “I’d best go contact Arus. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Alfor kisses Coran’s cheek, lets him go. His lips fall into a frown, deepening with every tap of his footsteps as he winds his way through the castle.

Lance jiggles his foot, heaves a sigh as he tries yet again to finish his draft. He’s preoccupied, worried about Keith. Aside from persistent morning sickness, he hasn’t been himself the last few quintants. Subdued, quiet- He’s begun isolating himself again, like he did last time he arrived from Daibazaal-

“Lancel.”

Lance looks up, rising from his chair. “Father. Can I do something for you?”

Alfor waves his hand, dismissing formality, and takes a seat by his son. “I want to talk to you about Keith. And what you’ve decided not to tell me.”

Lance’s hand freezes, releases the stylus. He turns to his father. “I beg your pardon?”

“Keith. And his pregnancy.” In hindsight, Alfor would realize that he could have used a bit more tact.

“What about it?”

“You hid this from me. Without any regard of what it might mean or how it might shift our priorities.”

“You haven’t exactly proven yourself to be trusted with the lives of children,” Lance bites, not missing a beat for even a second.

“What’s that supposed to mean-”

“That my husband is afraid of you, and what you’ll do to our children!”

Alfor licks his lips, a trait he’s passed to his son. “I regret what I have done to Keith. His fear is understandable. I would apologize, but I don’t think it would mean anything.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Still, I am happy for you. I understand the joy of becoming a father-”

“Father, you didn’t even want children!”

“How can you say that?-”

“Because you waited!” Lance snaps. “You waited until you and Mom absolutely had to have us! I’m not stupid!”

"Watch your mouth!" Alfor barks. "Don't you dare disrespect your mother like that. Or me."

Lance closes his mouth with a snap, shaken by his father's sudden anger.

“Lance, we-” Alfor runs a withering hand through his shaggy hair. “We waited to have you kids because I’m fucking gay! Not because we didn’t want you. I loved your mother, dearly, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to father children with her. And, for the record, it wasn’t easy for her, either.”

Lance averts his gaze, sheepish. He hadn’t thought of that.

“I put my hands on your mother, not loving her or wanting her. And she knew it. And she didn’t want it either. But that is the way it is done. So no one can question it, no one can doubt your blood. We did that, to each other, for you . And your sister. So don’t you so much as insinuate that we did not want you. Understand?”

Lance gulps, nods. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

Sometimes, Lance still feels like a boy. It’s rare that Alfor’s ire is so well-deserved, and it’s been a long time since Lance has been on the receiving end. He waits to see if his father is finished.

“Now, I wanted to talk to you because we now find ourselves in a potentially difficult situation. Keith’s health is far from perfect. Add to that the burdens of a fetus and the current political climate, what we have uncovered- we need to think very carefully about how to protect you and your family.”

Lance nods, sits back in his chair. “What about you and dad?”

“Not important. You, Keith, and this child are our future. The lynchpin that holds this society together. Were something to happen to you, it’s unlikely our people could recover. But you know that.”

Lance gulps, forces himself to meet his father’s gaze. “Am I- Am I a bad person? All this stuff is happening and-”

“No. Oh, Lance-” Alfor takes his hand, squeezes it tight. “Lance, you are not a bad anything. The truth is, there’s never a good time to start a family, or have a child. The Galra are not the only people who hold a grudge against us, and tragedies and freak accidents happen every day. Why, as we speak, our ships are shifting an asteroid away from our planet so we aren’t destroyed in a collision.

“Let me ask you something. Did you want this child?”

“Yes.”

“Did Keith want this child?”

“Yes.”

“Then this baby will be far luckier than some, just for that. And from what I’ve seen of you, and seen of Keith, and seen of you both together… This child will be blessed indeed. Far better off than you were.”

“You think so?” Lance asks, eyes stinging.

“I know so.” Alfor smiles, squeezing the hand still in his grip before releasing it. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandfather twice.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be a grandfather at least four times,” Lance laughs, sniffling a little, but willing to be happy with his father now that the tension is over.

“Mnh. I know you must do your duty to Daibazaal. So perhaps I’ll be a grandfather more times than that. Your sister doesn’t want more than two children. It may give you and Keith an opportunity to indulge in a larger family, should you so desire.”

“We do currently. I’m curious to see how Keith will feel after baby number one.”

“Very true. Child-bearing is some freaky shit.”

“Seriously. I don’t envy him. I need to get back to him.” Lance sighs. “But right now I need to finish this draft. I never know how to finish off these missives.”

“Oh, that’s the easy part. Summarize what you need done, how you want it done, why it’s important. Three sentences. Then say something encouraging. And then say, ‘Many thanks, Crown Prince Lancel.’ Simple as that. Wash, rinse, repeat until your paperwork is done.”

“That’s… actually pretty useful. Thanks.” Lance finishes typing, sending it along to Adam to look over before it’s passed along to their Admiral on Arus. “I still have all this…” Lance scrolls demonstratively through his list of tasks. “To complete before thaw, but I need to get back to Keith. He’s not himself today. In a different way than normal.”

“What actually needs to be done with it?”

“It’s all crusty, outdated, discriminatory, no longer applicable, or otherwise in need of a rewrite.”

“Why don’t I get started on it and you and Adam can look over it when it’s done?”

Lance hesitates a moment, tapping his stylus on the table. He’s reluctant to entrust policy to anyone else, even Keith, but he has more than one responsibility now. Alfor can do this paperwork. He can't be a husband to Keith. He nods. “Send them to Adam and myself directly. I’ll let him know to expect it.” Lance stacks his tablets carefully on the table for someone to put away for him later. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good man, Lance.” Alfor rises with his son, smile deeply fond.

“Keith says the same thing.”

“He’s a remarkably smart young man. Now, go take care of your house.” Alfor kisses the top of his son’s head. “I’ll send dinner to your quarters if you don’t show up.”

“Thanks. I love you, Father.”

“I love you, too.”

And he actually believes it.

Keith’s not in their quarters. Yet, strangely, Wolfy and BleepBloop are, Wolfy by the garden doors, BleepBloop glaring at the cub from the loft ladder. Has Keith actually gone outside?

Lance goes to pull his cloak from the closet, and notices that Keith’s is still hanging there. Cursing, he hurries to fasten the heavy fabric under his chin. He should give it a minute to warm up to his body temperature, but with Keith potentially out in the cold, he doesn’t want to wait. He’ll just have to hope it’s good enough.

On his way out, he snatches up Keith’s cloak.

The good thing about the frost is that he can see a set of footprints. The bad news is that those footprints are fading quickly as the frost creeps back up into the frozen moss. Speeding along, Lance squeezes through the gap in the garden wall, following the tracks into the forest. They’re getting a bit more clear, the dulled colors of the mossy forest floor showing through more clearly.

It dawns on Lance quite suddenly where he’s going, and he breaks into a run.

Panting, breath pluming, he skids to a halt outside the grotto where he learned to swim. His foot slips on an icy patch of frost, and he scrambles for a second before his hip hits the frozen ground.

Ouch.

Whatever.

Inside, Keith’s curled up on the icy pond, bundled in an enormous swathe of black fabric. The only thing Lance can see is a mess of long, black hair tumbling over the ice.

“Beloved?” The bundle twitches, curls tighter. “Beloved are you alright? Are you sick? Are you hurt?” A head shake.

Lance creeps over the frosty ground, sitting down next to his husband, throwing the red cloak over his form. Lance gently reaches out to Keith, brushing up against him, feeling what he feels-

A well of homesickness, deep, hollow, aching. Whimpering, Lance curls around his husband, hurting with him but refusing to let him go despite hot tears dripping down the side of his face.

“You know, I-” Lance gulps. “I know how you feel. A little. Remember that night at Thace and Ulaz’ place? I feel like- like I met myself that night. Like for those few vargas, I knew who I was, and I liked that person. But now… There’s no place for that person here. Here, I’m Crown Prince Lancel, and there I was Lance, and there’s no room for Lance here.

“It’s like I lost a piece of me. And lost a piece of us.”

A deep sigh, and Keith rolls over, cuddling closer in Lance’s arms. “I see him every now and then.” The man dredges up a sad smile, lays a hand to Lance’s cheek, brushes his thumb over red-tinted scales. “He’s never really gone.” A long silence, tender companionship. “I’m sorry.”

“You scared me a little bit.”

“Everything is dead here. And it’s all so quiet. Lying there by myself… All I could do was wish you were there with me. Like when we went home, and you were there all day, every day. I guess I got used to it.

“And I miss the red earth, and the afternoon heat, and the moons. I miss them so much. I-” Keith breaks off on a chirp.

“Hey, hey.” Lance pulls Keith closer, strokes his hair. “You’ll see it again, beloved. We’ll go together.”

It’s a few minutes before either speaks again, preferring instead the comfort of touch.

“Sorry, I think I’m just having a mood swing.”

“Your feelings aren’t invalid just because you’re having a mood swing.” Lance kisses his husband’s forehead. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Yes, I'm very cold."

Lance rises first, helps Keith to his feet. "I'm going to come up with a better plan for keeping you company. You're being neglected, and you haven't had anything to do lately."

"You know I can advocate for myself, right?"

"You can, but you don't."

"Right." Keith doesn't argue. He even sounds a little guilty. Lance counts it as a win.

“Where did you get that ridiculously huge cloak?”

“It was Shiro’s,” Keith murmurs. “He gave it to me as a gift when he found me. I didn’t have any clothes, so he gave it to me to cover myself with and help me stay warm. It was the first thing anyone gave me in all that time. The first kindness I’d seen.”

“And you left it behind,” Lance concludes. He knows by now that everything Keith brought with him -himself, his blade, and the clothes on his back- were taken from him upon his arrival. They never found his original clothes.

“Yeah. But now I have it again!” Keith grins. “ I was thinking, since it’s so big, we could use some of it to make a blanket for the little one?”

“Aww, Ke-eith! That’s so sweet!”

Keith hums, pleased by his mate’s enthusiasm. “The Galra used to have this philosophy that kindness doesn’t go back around, but forward. If someone does something kind for you, you’re meant to pay kindness to someone else.”

“I like that,” Lance whispers, swinging their hands back and forth between them. “You know, my father has discovered us. He’s… happy for us. I mean actually for us . Out of all the scenarios I imagined, that wasn’t one of them.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along better.” It’s a white lie, one Lance appreciates.

“He seems… excited. Like he’s really looking forward to being a grandfather. I’m really looking forward to getting to know my father, and watching him grow.”

Keith smiles. “You’ve been waiting a long time to have a relationship with Alfor, huh?”

“So long,” Lance breathes. “Obviously, I’d never allow him to do anything to endanger our child, but I really, really hope I never have to face that.”

Keith leans over to bump their shoulders together. “I hope so too.” He smiles. “You’re going to be an awesome father. I hope he gets to see that.”

“Thanks, beloved.”

The winter's silence falls around them, but it's not quite so crushing, so lonely anymore. There's two sets of footsteps, the warmth of a second body.

“Lance?”

“Yes?”

“I actually do miss Daibazaal. And how we were when we were there.”

“Me too. We’ll go again. As soon as we can.” Lance throws his arm around Keith’s shoulders after the squeeze back through the garden wall. “After all, little one’s gonna have to see where their daddy came from, right?”

“Definitely. I want them to be proud of what they are, Lance.”

“Absolutely. Hybrid children are the future. And we get to create that. It’s gonna be beautiful. I can’t wait to see it.”

“I can’t wait to share it with you,” Keith whispers, gazing at his smiling mate.

It’s time for the turning of the age.

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

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langstforthesoul · 4 years

Text

Klangst

Not What I Meant by: Dodie Clark

TW: Intrusive thoughts, Langst, Klangst, and generally just sad-

*Lance was having a hard time adjusting after Keith came back with his mom, the others brushing him off to go get Allura away from the treacherous Galra Prince. He knew this was far more important than a simple ‘Hello’ from the now apparently older and very much taller blade member. He had this bitter feeling pooling at the bottom of his stomach as he watched everyone rush out of the ship bay to try and contact the princess. ‘Why am I feeling like this?’ He felt the rage and bitterness slowly boil up but he shoved it back down, pushing it aside to deal with it later. He knew that wasn’t wise, but what else was he supposed to do? He had to help with their Lotor situation, despite knowing he wouldn’t be much help.

Skipping forward to after Lotor escaped, everyone had gone their separate ways. Lance wandered around the halls of the castle, lost in his own thoughts, speaking to the stale air as he went.*

Lance: *He had his arms crossed over his chest, the bitterness and anger slowly boiling backup from earlier now that he was alone (or so he thought)* Let’s find out just how far I’ll go, to look like someone you should know.. *he continued on, knowing he needed to get what he was feeling off his chest but not knowing how. ‘Maybe training?’ He thought as he made his way to the direction of the said room.* Maybe I’d sound a little better *he absent mindedly ran his hand over the smooth and very well taken care of skin on his face.* Maybe I’d look more sweet?

*The brunette had walked all the way to the training room only to hear the clashing of a sword against metal. He peeked inside to see Keith and Shiro training together, moving in what could only be described as a dangerous dance of violence. He watched in slight awe before turning to leave, only to pause when he felt the bitterness make its way into his thoughts.*

Lance: *‘Keith just has to always be number 1 huh? No wonder Shiro prefers to train with him.’ His mind spoke with a tone that sent shivers down his spine.* His mind has already been made up, he saw my number and my number is just never good enough. *he let out a soft but sad chuckle as he walked away from the training room door. He turned on his heel to make his way toward the kitchen, his stomach rumbling in agreement of the idea of a snack.* I’ll fight a little better *He felt a small smile tug on his lips.* If I’m willing to compete.

*Keith paused in his movements, hearing the tapping of shoes walking away from the room He and Shiro had been in for the past few hours. He looked at the door for a brief moment, confusion crossing his features. Shiro, ever the concerned father figure, got out of his fighting stance and looked in the direction that Keith was looking.*

Shiro: Keith? *He gently nudged the dazed boy, his brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern.* You ok?

Keith: *He looked over at Shiro then back at the door, blinking for a second.* I could have sworn I heard Lance outside the door… *He rumbled, shaking off the bad feeling he felt. He jumped when he felt the cold metal hand of Shiro’s prosthetic arm touching his shoulder.*

Shiro: Maybe go check and see if he’s alright? I’m sure you could use a break anyways. *He watched for a reaction from the ravenette, knowing the response he was about to get all too well.*

Keith: *He shook his head and nudged Shiro’s hand off lightly.* I’ll do it if I have too, maybe find an Inbetween..

Shiro: *He let out a chuckle and gave Keith a teasing look, slightly shoving the younger shoulder.* Not what I meant when I said, maybe just see if he wants to be seen?

Keith: *He simply rolled his eyes, walking over to the area he set his things aside to and swiped his towel.* I don’t get what you mean but I’ll go check on him. *he wiped the sweat from his brow and walked out of the training room, leaving a chuckling Shiro in his wake.*

*Lance had made it to the kitchen without bumping into anyone, only wanting to grab a quick snack and going to the observation deck where he could drown in his thoughts. He heard humming as soon as he entered, seeing his best friend whisking away as some alien ingredient they got from their last supply pick up. He gave Hunk a smile before grabbing what he needed and leaving without saying a word. Hunk was confused but only shrugged it off, thinking it was only to get back to whatever Lance was doing before.

Lance was back in the halls once more, feeling the chill of the crisp air as it shifted to the night cycle. His mind slowly began to wonder off again, consuming the silence with the loud shouting of his thoughts.*

Lance: *He let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through his already mused hair. ‘Y’know that He only cares about Pidge and their inventions now.. You shouldn’t bother him. Stay on the right path, McClain.’ His mind shouted at him.* How am I meant to stay on track? When each hand I shake will pull me back? *He gripped his hair, trying to keep his breathing steady as his vision blurred. ‘You’re not working hard Enough! You HAVE TO TRY HARDER!’ The thoughts rang louder each time, causing a sharp pang to run through his brain.* Oh, I guess I’ll work a little.. maybe walk a little less.. *When he finally arrived at the observation deck, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Though that hadn’t lasted long, more intrusive thoughts, one more worse than the one before. He tried to force a smile, tell himself that he’s good enough and that he’ll always be good enough but…* And in the end I feel proud! I grit my teeth, and follow that DAMN crowd… *the smile he forced slowly began to crumble.. ‘You aren’t going to make it back home, this war is going to take you away forever!’ That one made him flinch, tears welling up in his eyes as he forcefully wiped them away.* Will I have grow a little empire or made another fucking mess? *That drew out a sad chuckle from the Cuban, a tear slowly slipping down his freckled cheek. ‘You should just leave McClain! Nobody needs you here so why stay?! YOU’RE REPLACEABLE!!’* I’ll do it if I have to…

*Something Lance hadn’t realized was that Keith, his supposed rival to close friend to crush, was listening outside the door. The ravenettes eyes were wide with shock, the feeling of dread cording through him as he listened to everything Lance said.*

Keith: *he placed a hand over his mouth, trying to steady his breathing while staying as quiet as possible. ‘How long has Lance felt like this? Did he really..?’ His mind was racing with one question after the next, resisting the urge to burst in to confront the former blue paladin, to try and figure where all this came from and how it started..*

*Lance slid down to the floor, his knees giving way underneath him as he held in a sob that rose from his throat. He didn’t want to make a sound in fear that someone would hear and feel that they had to come and check. He didn’t want to be a bother any more than he felt that he was. The two boys, one unaware of the others presence, stayed silent for a few moments until the Cuban continued.*

Lance: *His voice came out thick, tears seeping from his eyes as he stared at the stars with blurry eyes and a shaky smile.* Hoping for an Inbetween… *’You shouldn’t draw attention to yourself, don’t make the others worry about you. They already have too much to deal with.’ He let out another shaky breath and pulled his knees to his chest.* Not what I meant when I said that I wanted to be… *A soft sob escaped his trembling and bitten beyond belief lips, he shook with each sob that escaped after the first, finally letting go. He lowered his head and murmured under his breath.*...seen.

Keith: *’I can’t just keep standing here! Lance needs comfort!’ His emotions were getting the better of his rationality, having a war going on in his mind. ‘What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I make things worse for him?!’ He shook his head, as if to shake away the thought. ‘It doesn’t matter, he needs someone!’ The next words he muttered under his breath..* I’ll do what I have to.

Lance: *He tried his best to calm down, still not noticing a certain mullet head about to enter. He ruffled his hair and gave a wet smile to the stars.* I’ll keep it to myself..

Keith: *He finally made a decision, turning on his heel and storming into the room with a fierce determination that he only showed when he was about to go on a mission.* This is the Inbetween.

Lance: *The male jumped, whirling around at the source of the new voice, surprised to see a very fierce looking keith quickly approaching him.* K-keith? How- W-when- H-how long have you been listening?! *He yelped, suddenly in Keith’s arms as the ladder held him in a tight vice like hug. ‘I must have seen that look somewhere before-‘ his thoughts were interrupted when Keith suddenly spoke after a brief pause.*

Keith: *He held the Cuban as tight as he could without hurting the other, burying his face into the others neck.* I finally know what you meant when you said you want to be… *he inhaled a shaky breath and pulled away to face Lance.*

Lance: *He could watch in awe, some tears still falling but Keith kissed them away as soon as they did.*

Keith: *he gave Lance a sad smile and cupped the others cheek with his, sure to be, rough hands.* ...Seen..

Authors Note:

Uhhmmm Hi? I hope whoever reads this enjoys! I’m considering on writing a part two to this, but I dont really know what song to do.. That’s where you guys hopefully come in! Feel free to drop some song recommendations in the comments and I’ll go through and choose one! Also feel free to comment any notes or Mistakes you see, I would really love a second opinion on this writing! Anyways, I hope you guys have a good day/morning/evening/night! And Stay safe out there!!

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