#adashi angst

[mothmanavenue]

in this city’s barren cold i still remember the first fall of snow, and how it glistened as it fell, i remember it all too well

[uniquecellest]

Yknow what's really good and angsty?

A flashback Adam could have just before he dies (or gets captured by the Galra) and it goes back to the fight he and Shiro had over Shiro going on Kerberos. Like perhaps days before Sanda approaches Adam and proposes that Adam threatens to end it with Shiro to maybe keep Shiro from going.

Adam refutes this idea because he wants to support Shiro even if it means they don't have long together when he gets back.

Sanda then threatens Adam's rank. Seeing that is being futile, she threatens Shiro's rank as an officer. That gets Adam. Sanda promises to make Shiros life hell once he gets back.

So Adam agrees. Because he knows how much being a pilot means to Shiro and he doesn't want to see what Sanda will do to either of them.

The dreaded day of the argument comes.

Adam doesn't win at all. Shiro is adamant about going and just lost it all because of Sanda.

Then shortly after the launch (because yes Adam went he's going to support Shiro no matter what) Sanda pulls Adam into her office. Adam confirms that he did threaten their relationship yet Shiro was adamant on going.

Sanda is upset by this because she thought losing the love of one's life would make them reconsider. Adam pleads that he can leave the Garrison as long as Shiro can keep his position. Adam pleads that since he did try to keep Shiro from going and Shiro still went Shiro shouldn't pay the price.

Sanda says she will think about it and that infuriates Adam. Before he can do anything Sanda dismisses him.

Adam leaves angry. Outside he sees Keith in the waiting chairs. Because the young teen was curious to see Adam and Sanda together and he overheard everything. While he was mad at Adam for breaking up with Shiro he's even more pissed at Sanda and wants to hit her. Adam stops him. They spend time together but it's not easy. Both grieve privately while trying to be strong for the other in front of people.

Kerberos is then declared a failure and Adam breaks down. He cries in front of Keith for the first time in a long while because he lost Shiro twice. Both blame Sanda thinking that she sent a secret team out to Kerberos to make sure Shiro doesn't come back.

In the following days Keith gets expelled. Sanda says that Adam cannot have any contact with Keith.

They still do via walkie-talkies or private phone calls because Adam buys Keith burner phones. Adam visits Keith at the shack. Sanda tries to make Adam stop but since she can't prove that it is Keith Adam goes out to see or talks to she doesn't have a leg to stand on with Iverson taking Adam's side. Even the entirety of Garrison engineers take Adam's side (because they all know it's Keith and dislike Sanda and loved Shiro, Matt, and Sam) that she has to step down.

Adam comes to whispering "I'm sorry" he means I love you.

Adam is the last person the Garrison hears.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith wakes up with terror turning to ice in his veins and his brother’s name clawing its way out of his throat.

He takes a moment, chest heaving, to orient himself. The details of the dream quickly fade, dark caves and towering footsteps, leaving only an impression of fear and the memory of Shiro, falling, crying out for Keith to save him, and Keith being just too late. He peels the sweat-soaked sheets off himself in disgust, tossing them haphazardly on the ground in front of him. Grunting, he forces himself upright, placing his feet on the cold tile floor of his bedroom to force himself fully awake. Sunlight streams through his window, assaulting his bleary eyes, making him grumble as he walks over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the day.

Not unusually, his nightmares have woken him hours before he really needs to be awake. He only has one afternoon class, today, and it's frustrating to have one of his few mornings off spoiled so early. As he spits frothy toothpaste into the sink, he tries to rework the whole situation in his mind. Waking up too early sucks, but with the extra time this morning, he’ll have time to wash his sheets. That’s a net neutral, at least.

It doesn’t take him too long to gather up a load of linens and clothes, tossing them into the machine, sipping a coffee as the old thing chugs on. He hangs them to dry once the cycle is over, tossing some overdue marking into his messenger bag and scarfing down a bagel before hopping onto his bike.

His bicycle, that is. He would never take his precious bike to class. The one and only time he had, it had been vandalised by angry students. Never again.

The ride to the school is uneventful, normal, boring. Even the asshole drivers who refuse to give him space on the road, coming within inches of crushing him, are par for the course. He wonders if he looks particularly dead-eyed, or if that’s just how he feels.

“Hey, Pidge,” he says to his lab assistant, nodding at her as he walks into their lab. She shouldn’t even be his lab assistant, really. She’s more brilliant than he’ll ever be, and it’s insulting that she has to answer to him. But she’s only twenty, and whip smart as she is, their field is ripe with rich old white guys who smile condescendingly at her and call her sweetheart. No one will give her a tenured position. So while not ideal, their situation is the best both of them can come up with: Pidge gets total freedom in his lab, any resource that she wants and he can get his hands on, and he’ll publish any finding she discovers with her name as a second on the paper. That way she’ll be credited with dozens of peer-reviewed papers before she even has her doctorate, and once she’s finally got a lab of her own and every intellectual around the globe is interviewing her, she can tell them all where to stuff it and get all the credit she deserves.

“Bad news, Kogane,” Pidge says, glancing up at him with a furrowed brow.

Keith grimaces. If Pidge is looking up from her computer screen, then he’s fucked.

“Is the building on fire?” he says hopefully. That’s a slightly less miserable conclusion than the one he knows is happening.

She huffs sadly, shaking her head. “Nah, check the douchebag waiting in your office.”

Sighing, Keith does. James Griffin, head of the geography department and the resident jackass who’s been trying to shut Keith down for years.

“Keith!” he cries, grinning at him like they’re friends.

Keith doesn’t even pretend to smile at him, staring at him blankly.

“Good to see you, pal,” James continues, either oblivious or uncaring. “Thought I’d drop by and personally deliver the news. I’m getting a new office!”

The absurdity of the sentence makes Keith blink, looking at James in confusion. “Pardon?”

James ignores him, pulling out a tape measure and holding it against the cabinets and counters, barely even making any real effort to measure anything. Keith finally starts to notice the smugness to his department head’s grin, and something like dread builds in his stomach.

“See, progressive volcanology just isn’t what it used to be. Ten years ago it was breakthrough science, today it’s an ancient relic of the past.” He snaps the tape measure closed, turning back to face Keith. He no longer makes any effort to hide his smirk, placing a falsely pitying hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith shrugs it off immediately. “They’re shuttin’ ya down, bud. I’m taking the space. I’m sure you myriad of adoring students will be devastated, but budget cuts are budget cuts, and this is a decision the department has to make. For the good of the university, you understand.”

Keith knows that pleading is useless. In all likelihood, this decision was made months ago, and he’s only hearing about it now because it’s been finalised. No way would James be so confident otherwise.

But there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from trying.

“You can’t shut us down,” he pleads, throat unfathomably dry. “We’re – we’re on the verge of a breakthrough, James, I can feel it, shutting us down would be spitting in the face of progress –”

“How many of your sensors are even still active?” James interrupts. “One? Two?”

He sounds so smug that Keith can’t bear it. “Three!”

“Right,” James says, snorting. “Three whole sensors.” He turns away, patting one of the overhanging shelves of the wall, crowded from front to back with dozens and dozens of rock samples slowly collecting dust. “It’s not worth the money it takes to keep them going.”

“You can’t do this,” Keith begs, voice quiet and small. He hates himself for his weakness in front of James, of all people in the world, but his hands shake and his blood rushes in his ears and the only thought running through his mind is save the lab save the lab save the lab. “It’s all I have left. Of him.”

To James’ credit, that gives him pause. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a monster.

“It’s been ten years, man,” he says softly. “The lab isn’t going to bring him back.”

Keith says nothing. He stares at him, eyes hard, hatred and pain alike building up in them and spilling over.

Shiro’s sensors. Shiro’s work. Shiro, all over the lab, in every way, the only pieces Keith has of him that are still going, that are not stagnant, and James is taking them away. Whether or not it’s James’ fault directly is irrelevant – Keith hates him for any role he plays.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” James says, and he almost sounds sincere before disappearing out of the lab and down the hall.

Keith sits down heavily in his – in Shiro’s – rickety old office chair as he goes, elbows on the crowded desk, fingers clenched in his hair. Pidge puts a gentle and awkward hand on his shoulder.

It doesn’t matter.

— — —

His classes pass in a blur. None of his students even pretend to pay attention, but that’s not unusual. He can’t remember the last time someone came into his classroom and gave even one eighth of a shit. Hell, the last person in his class to care might have been Pidge.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted. He dreads the bike ride home, knowing it will take more energy than he has, but he tries to convince himself that the fresh air might make him feel less like the world is collapsing in on itself.

He fails.

By the time he stumbles through the door, late afternoon light spilling over his messy coffee table, he feels like a used battery from 1996. He slides the scattered change he’d found on the road today into one of his near-filled collection bottles and collapses on the couch, face-first, groaning as loud as he can into a scratchy pillow. He blindly flails one arm around until it hits the beeping answering machine, letting it play its onslaught of messages, preparing to delete whatever spam calls have made it through while he was gone.

“Keith, hey. It’s Adam. Just calling to remind you that today’s the day! We just left, we’ll be there around quarter to six? Hopefully. See you soon.”

With a gasp, Keith yanks himself upright with so much force he nearly throws himself off the couch.

Adam.

Adam!

The next message plays automatically. “Hey, got your answering machine again. Getting a little worried. We’re halfway there, and we can’t wait to see you. Right, kiddo?”

A much younger voice mutters something unintelligible, but the tone makes their enthusiasm – or lack thereof – abundantly clear.

Keith sweeps a bunch of junk off his coffee table, frantically searching for his calendar. He finds it under a stack of half-finished books, praying to himself that what he’s hearing is wrong somehow, and today is not the day he thinks it is.

In bold red ben, in the tiny square of the 28th of June, is his niece’s name written in capital letters and underlined no less than five times.

“Hana,” he breathes, and looks in horror at his watch just as the answering machine beeps and plays the newest message.

“Alright, well, we’re ten minutes away, so I hope everything’s okay. Please be ready.”

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, jumping up off the couch and catapulting into action. He can’t believe he forgot! It’s so easy for all the days to blur together, for dates to lose meaning, when everything is so mundane. He’s been thinking that Hana’s visit is ‘months away’ for half a year now, completely forgetting that time is, in fact, linear.

Adam is going to kill him. And worst of all, he is going to be justified.

He starts scooping random shit off end tables and random surfaces, sticking it wherever there’s space. Adam is a neat freak, always has been, and if he looks through that front door and sees the mess he is about to leave his only daughter in for ten whole days he is going to take it out on Keith’s hide. Keith shoves a random stack of cereal bowls into a drawer, stuffs a cabinet full of old newspapers, kicks a pile of discarded sweaters into a corner and throws a blanket over them. His answering machine beeps again, and he whips his head to his clock, watching in horror as the big hand ticks to the 9 – it’s five forty-five on the dot.

“Hope you’re home, Keith, because we’re pulling up to your place.”

A silver car slows to a stop across the street.

“Fuck!”

Keith increases his half-assed cleaning tenfold. He dumps every dish he sees into the sink, hacks up a lung from trying to blow away the accumulated dust, glances in the fridge to see what expired food he needs to toss. Is Adam going to search through his fridge? Probably not.

But there’s a chance.

He sees his brother-in-law approach the front door as he’s holding a stack of greasy car parts and freezes, slowly backing away as the man turns and makes a face at the car. Keith hears the doorbell ring but ignores it, figuring he has about three more rings to panic-clean before Adam gets fed up and picks the lock. He rushes to his bedroom, grabbing the truly gigantic quilt Pidge’s brother had made him, and throws it over his couch, coffee table, and armchair in a half-assed attempt to make the room look less like Keith has not cleaned in several weeks.

It does not work.

The doorbell rings for a third time, followed by rapid knocking.

“Keith? You home?”

Keith takes a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face.

Fine. This is going to be fine.

“Hey, Adam!” he greets, opening the door. Adam glances behind him, taking in the mess, so Keith quickly closes the door as much as he can without squishing himself.

Unfortunately, Adam has always been quick. He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You forgot, didn’t you.”

“Forget?” Keith laughs nervously. “Of course I didn’t – I didn’t forget! Been looking forward to this for weeks, counting down the days, just been prepping like you would not believe –”

Adam takes off his glasses, cleaning them slowly while making direct eye contact.

Keith sighs.

“Yeah, I forgot.”

“Come on, Keith,” Adam sighs, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We planned this months ago. Ten days. That’s all I ask. She’s your niece.”

“Just because I forgot doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to it!” Keith says defensively. “I haven’t seen her since she was what, nine?”

“Seven,” Adam corrects flatly.

Keith winces. “Right. Seven.” He follows his brother-in-law to his car, forcing himself not to drag his feet. He is excited. He is. He loves his niece, and besides, it’s only ten days. What can happen in ten days?

“Hana,” Adam says, knocking on the roof of the car. “Say hi to your uncle.”

“Hi to your uncle,” deadpans a young girl, pulling her beanie further down over her eyes and sinking into her seat. Adam sighs, heading to the trunk to dig out some bags, and Keith has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He probably shouldn’t laugh when teenagers are being little shits, but that was kind of funny.

“Hey, kid,” Keith says, in the same semi-awkward tone he used to talk to Pidge in until she started decking him every time he did. He inclines his head at the device in her hands. “Whatcha got there? One of those ePod thingies?”

The look she gives him is so dry and judgemental that Keith almost feels the need to both apologise and pull out a fiver to pay for the stupidity of his sentence, which is honestly an insanely powerful look for a thirteen year old to pull off.

Only Adam’s kid, honestly.

“It’s a PSP,” she says, like that’s the most obvious thing in the world and Keith is a dunce for not knowing. “And ePods aren’t a thing. The word you’re looking for is iPod.”

Lordie, this is going to be a tough ten days. Keith should have researched how to make teenagers like him.

Well. Maybe not. That would probably get him on a list somewhere.

“It’s good to see you, Hana,” Keith says, switching gears. He smiles slightly, and it's genuine, because he really is glad to see her. “You wanna head inside? Door’s open, I’ll meet you in a few.”

“Come see me first, baby,” Adam calls.

Hana huffs and walks over to see her dad. He hands her a duffel bag, which she shrugs over her shoulder, and then cups her face tightly, leaning down to kiss her head.

“Ten days, okay?” he murmurs. “Then I’ll meet you in the Ottawa airport.” He squeezes her in a hug, which she returns, if slightly reluctantly. “This move will be good for us.”

“Right,” Hana says, so bitter that Keith actually physically winces. “I am so pumped to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and go live in a new country. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

Without so much as a backwards glance at her father, she pulls away and stomps inside to Keith’s place.

“Yikes,” Keith says, grimacing at his brother-in-law. Adam isn’t looking at him, gaze following his daughter with an expression Keith can only describe as pained. He doesn’t say anything for several moments, just staring at the house, eyes far-away and deeply sad. Keith’s chest starts to ache, right under his sternum, because he gets that look, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” Adam says softly. “I’m just — I’m just trying to do the right thing for her.” And it’s been months since they’ve talked anything but surface level pleasantries but they will always be the same, Keith thinks, and he reaches over and squeezes Adam’s hand because he will always be family. Adam squeezes back, smiling tightly.

“I’ll take care of her,” Keith promises. He swallows against the sandpaper roughness of his throat and tries to stand up straight, to make up for his crumpled shirt and messy hair. The attemlt makes Adam roll his eyes, which makes Keith grin. Adam can never stay mad at him for long.

“I know you will, brat.” He cups Keith’s cheeks identically to the way he did Hana’s, tipping over to kiss his forehead. Keith’s eyes close and his hands come up to grab Adam’s wrists. “I trust you. I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”

He pulls away and Keith lets him go, watching the easy way in which he composes himself, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket and pushing up his jacket, putting himself back together in front of Keith’s eyes. The process has fascinated him since he was little; the way Adam can always pull himself back to full height.

“Besides,” he adds, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and heading for the passenger side. “You have my daughter to look after, now. If she comes home to me in ten days complaining about doing the dishes because Uncle Keith just eats pasta out of the pot, I will fly back here just to smack you.”

Keith snorts. “Noted. Drive safe, Adam.”

He waves as he shuts the door and starts the car. Keith watches him go, then turns back towards his house, peering through the door, looking for a glimpse of the kid. He doesn’t see her, but he can hear the muted sounds of a video game from outside.

“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” he mutters to himself, and walks inside.

[corruptedplaylist]

Lance looks through the binoculars again and finds Keith at the same time Adam calls Keith’s name and points at where Lance is standing. The other boy glances up, caught between a laugh from watching Pidge and Hunk write a lewd message in the sand. He flips him off and Lance’s hand-painted skull grins back at him. Keith’s cheeks are pink from the chill, his eyes bright and mischievous as the wind catches on the edges of his hair.

Lance mechanically waves back as he pulls away from the binoculars, Keith becoming a tiny figure against the sand as a blush begins to stain Lance’s cheeks. He hikes the collar of his jacket up, glancing furtively back at Shiro and then down at the shore below. 

Oh.

Fuck.

——————————————————————————————

this was an excerpt from chapter 10 of my fic! here's some more info if ur interested:

title: looking out for you

platform: ao3 only

rating: t

genre(s): slice of life college au

ships: Keith Kogane/Lance McClain, Adam/Shiro

words/chapters: 187k/18 chapters

status: completed

summary/elevator pitch: wholesome queer vibes and healthy communication a la voltron. found family shenanigans include: paintball, halloween parties, laundromat trips, beach episode, family dinners, video game tournaments, awkward confessions, grocery shopping, and some good old angst and character development. also, lance may or may not get possessed by a ghost but it's not pidge's fault.

i was reminiscing on this fic and decided to just promo it bc why not? drop me a comment/kudos if u check it out and like it!

for anyone who has already read it or is planning on reading it, i've done faqs between the three acts. i recently updated my faq here for act iii if anyone is interested (i finally got around to putting in some more details!)

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Wildest Dreams

‘He said, "Let's get out of this town. Drive out of the city, away from the crowds' 

“Ready to go?” Shiro asked as he closed the back of the vehicle. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Adam kept his arms crossed over his chest. A friendly smile on his face. 

Shiro grinned at his boyfriend, taking a couple of steps toward him. “That is classified.” 

“You want me to spend our spring break in an unknown location? Are you trying to murder me?” Adam played back, his eyebrows raising in playful suspicion.

Shiro rolled his eyes, “I have told everyone that we are spending break together. Why would I kill my boyfriend of six months during this trip? I would be the number one suspect.”

Adam clicked his tongue, “touché.” 

Shiro released a deep laugh. “Okay get in the car we need to go.” 

“Okay okay, don’t rush me.” Adam opened the car door. Quickly sliding in. 

‘Nothing lasts forever’ 

---

‘He's so tall and handsome as hell’ 

Fingers snapped in front of his face. “Adam! Stop ogling your boyfriend. We have work to do.” 

He waved his hand to his friend. His eyes not leaving Shiro once. “Skin-tight shirts should be criminalized at the Garrison.” 

Shiro was wiping his forehead with a rag. His black shirt clinging to his skin with sweat. Perfect eye candy for Adam. 

Shiro met his eyes, sending him a small wave. Adam waved back, his friend groaning as they dragged him out of the training deck. “I know he’s hot but we still have work to do.” 

Adam let his collogue drag him. He was hot. How did he manage to score Takashi Shirogane? 

---

‘I can see the end as it begins’

“It’s terminal.” 

Adam closed his eyes, trying to stop any tears from falling. He wasn’t the one that needed to break down right now. He needed to be there for Shiro. 

He took a shaky breath. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he forced the next question out. “How long?” 

Shiro sighed. His body curled into himself as he squeezed his hands closed. “Two to five years.” 

Anger formed in Adam’s gut. Two to five years is nothing when you want forever with someone. “This is bullshit!” He found himself standing, the room blurring some due to unfallen tears. “Fucking bullshit!” 

Shiro looked up at him, his face holding an expression of heartbreak and exhaustion. “Adam.” Even his voice was tired. 

Adam found himself pacing. Words spilled from his lips. “Our lives just started! We just graduated what do you mean two to five years?! There's nothing they can do to help? No treatment or medicine?”

“The only medicine they have will simply prolong it. It won’t cure it.” 

Adam’s knees hit the floor, sobs threatening to consume him. “This isn’t fair.” His voice broke on the words. 

Shiro slowly moved toward him, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “I know. I know it’s not.” 

“You can’t leave Shiro. We still have so much to do.” 

“I know,” his voice rumbled in his chest, pulling Adam even closer. “I’ll be here as long as I can.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

---

‘I said, "No one has to know what we do.” His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room. And his voice is a familiar sound.’ 

Adam stared up at the ceiling, the only sound filling the room was Shiro’s breathing. His fingers trace random shapes on his exposed skin. Trying to memorize every aspect of him. The feel of his skin, the curve of his body. Everything that made up Takashi. 

It had been half a year since his diagnosis. Since he was told that he wouldn’t live to thirty. He would be lucky to make twenty-eight. 

Adam did his best to remain happy. To move through his everyday life pretending that the love of his life wasn’t on borrowed time. Pretending he wasn’t pissed at whatever sick being or universal thing did this to Shiro. 

He knew Shiro saw right through him. But he remained so calm. So collected. He was the one sick and yet he seemed at peace. Adam was envious of his calmness. How he never seem to worry about how many days he had left. That he was content as long as he was with Adam. 

Shiro stirred some, lifting his head up. Blinking sleepily at his lover. 

Adam smiled at him, running his hand through his hair. “Morning.” 

Shiro leaned into his touch. “Morning.” 

Adam stared at him a bit longer. His heart filled with a mix of love, admiration, and comfort. Feelings Shiro always brought him. “Will you marry me?” 

Shiro's eyes widened, “what?” 

Adam repeated himself, his fingers gently playing with the end of his hair. 

“Yes,” Shiro grinned, pressing his lips to Adams. 

‘Nothing lasts forever.’ 

---

‘Someday when you leave me I bet these memories follow you around.’ 

“I’m going. Everyone cleared me. The doctors said I can!” Shiro took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay. 

“You could die out there!” Adam raised his voice, not caring who could hear them through the walls.

“I’m going to die here! At least let me do something with the time I have left.” 

A tense silence filled the room. Both of their chests rose and fell quickly. Fight after fight had occurred in the last couple of months. Since Shiro put in his application for the Kerberos mission. 

But they had never felt like this. Never felt like it was teetering on the edge. The fragile class they surrounded themselves in finally cracked. 

“It’s the mission or me. You can’t have both.” 

Shiro’s eyes filled with heartbreak, “Adam. You can’t make me choose.” He pleaded. His voice cracked as tears threaten to consume him. 

Adam looked at him with sternness, his mind was made up. No matter how much Shiro begged, he wouldn’t change his position. “Pick one.” 

Shiro closed his eyes, sucking in a tight breath as a couple of tears slipped down his face. “Please.” 

Adam moved, grabbing his bag as he stepped closer to Shiro. A gentle hand cupping his face. “I’ll never forget about you Takashi.” 

A small piece of metal was pressed into his hand. Familiar lips pressed against his cheek. Footsteps moved through the room, a door opened, and then silence. 

Shiro opened his eyes, looking down at his palm. A ring glared back at him. He allowed his body to crumple, releasing screams he had held in for so long. Allowing himself to break. 

---

 ‘Say you'll see me again even if it's just pretend.’ 

“Good work Champion,” a Galran threw him into a cell. Closing the door and waking away. 

Shiro rested his head against the wall, hugging his knees into his chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Letting his mind wander.

He smiled to himself as an image of Adam filled his mind. The way he smiled at him, how he said his name. The way his face scrunched up when he was stuck on a problem. The spice of his cologne, how he faintly snored when he slept but never admitted it even when Shiro recorded it. 

He moved his hand against his chest, gripping the two rings that hung on a string. He was going to get home and see Adam again. He was going to make things right. 

-----

Sorry :/ 

Not really this was spinning in my mind for daysssss 

This is also a low-key prequel for my upcoming Adashi fic. That fic will go into more depth with flashbacks and things like that but this does set the tone and stage for how things will start. 

This was based on Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift, I don’t own any aspect of the song, all credit goes to their proper creators. 

Thank you for reading <33333 

[sockfus]

the voltron breakdown.. it hits so hard

[dudeimabird]

Honor her, just stay happy pt 2

REQUEST ARE OPEN

-- I know I have been procrastinating putting this out, I've been mostly worrying if I'm going to be able to give the romance leading to the kiss good enough detail but it's worth a shot!

(Lance POV because switcharooo)

"Hey, Lance" I wasn't expecting that at all. So, today is the day before Allura's death anniversary. It's been two years, how weird, everyone who knew Allura well came the day before to just talk catch up and celebrate the life of her. We did this because it gets overwhelming trying to come to terms with that, when random strangers that never met hew were staying stuff like "She was so beautiful" "God bless that poor soul" some even cried I know they have the right to grieve just as I, but it still gets... annoying, no wrong word, angry? Yeah, angry. Because they never met her, met the wonderful, beautiful soul of hers, yet they still act like they've known her since they were kids, hell I didn't even know her since we were kids. Anyway, I rambled, I wasn't expecting him here. And honestly, I wish he wasn-

My thoughts were interrupted by a 6 foot, black haired, hunk.

"I know, you weren't expecting me, but please let me explain" Keith said sounding the most desperate, I had ever heard. I opened the door more and pointed into the room, he walked inside and I shut the door.

"I promise you, I really wanted to go to the Anniversary last year, but something came up with the blade and they needed my help really badly I promise you I wouldn't leave you hanging on purpose, and I feel really bad and you haven't really been responding to my texts so I couldn't apologize" He rambled, I could tell as soon as he finished talking he mentally sighed. I felt guilty I wasn't annoyed that he didn't go to the anniversary at least not this long, I was angry at first but I cooled down after like 2 weeks. The real problem was...

-- I'm sorry theres going to be a part 3 I just cant seem to get stuff done, in one round. Anyway, hope you guys have a good night!

--dudeimabird

[happyleakira]

Hey Voltron fandom! In case you forgot… here’s a complete list of all my vld fics! Enjoy!

last sunrise in the wasteland | klance, 9.5k, established relationship post s6 homecoming

here are the facts: the sky is the color of cotton candy. varadero is hot. keith is in love with lance.

and all I can taste is this moment | adashi & romellura, 48k, Cold War garrison space au

"Takashi, what am I to you?"

"Everything."

or, the one where shiro is the garrison's golden boy in the midst of the cold war, adam is his wicked smart best friend that he can't stop staring at for some reason, allura's meeting place of choice is broom closets, and romelle just wants everyone to get their shit together.

don’t waste another mile or minute (not kissing me) | klance, 17k, high school Friday night lights au

The high school star quarterback and the associated student body president fall in love.

Or at least, that's what the Hallmark movie summary would be.

Here's the truth: Keith and Lance are in love, Allura and Romelle are in love but don't know it yet, there's a few night drives in pickup trucks, and prom shakes everything up.

rocket man | klance, 6.7k, ray bradbury crossover, angst

"I can’t help myself. I work on my bike and treat him as if he were alive, and then it hurts. No, it’s better to think he hasn’t been here for ten years and I’ll never see him again. It doesn’t hurt as much."

“Didn’t he say next time he’d settle down?” Lance asks.

[rorimoon9597]

You're gonna get a shit ton of Adashi fix-it fics on here for a while bc I have motivation to write about them. All of the fix-it fics are gonna be extremely fluffy and soft with slight angst added in.

You're welcome!!

[scattered-winter]

ok new question for the quintenary stars folk. I was originally only going to write two little sidepieces (matt's lost years [eclipse], and pre kerberos garrison adashi) but now I'm thinking about maybe doing another for shiro's lost year before escaping and finding voltron.

if I did do this, it would have lots of shiro whump and would probably be pretty heavy given the subject matter. basically 100% angst. what do we think

[kukos-satellite]

Which should be the second ship should be?

This is a poll to help me decide the next best ship (romantic or platonic) to be the second part of my series: What isn’t our love, is our pain, over on AO3. For followers of mine that don’t have AO3, I’ll post them here as well. Like I’ve done for the Klance. If you want the full fic I’ll make sure to send it out once I put more angst into it because I can. That Klance fic was based around a scene in Gattaca that I might want to rewrite to give it more oomph.

The ships ratings and random gibberish:

Adashi

Rating: Romantic , Fluff and/or Angsty

Sheith

Rating: Platonic , Fluff and/or Angsty

Lotura

Rating: Platonic and/or Romantic , Fluff and/or Angsty

[cursedcommutethoughts]

It deeply bothers me there are no fics in Cherry Magic with corporate espionage as a subplot. Or a main plot. Like, I get it, that's not the genre... But there's so much that can be done with a character who can read minds. Just think about it. Reading minds to get inside scoops on deals. So far that's happened once in the anime, and I need it to happen more. I need the thrills and the angst and the laughs because Adashi would make the worst corporate spy.

[autisticlancemcclain]

When Shiro hears news of his mother’s death, his first thought is good riddance.

His second thought is fuck. Loudly, and repeated many times in his head. And out loud. In the middle of the night, sitting straight up in bed, startling his fiancé awake.

“T’kashi?” he mutters, eye squinted as he blindly pays the bedside table for his glasses. “What’s going on?”

Shiro’s mouth works on autopilot. “It’s my mother.”

As it always does when she is brought up, which is frequently due to her many life decisions, Adam’s face wrinkles as if he just bit into something very sour.

“Oh. What the fuck is she up to now?”

“Uh, the afterlife.”

Adam’s face freezes. Shiro chokes down hysterical laughter. It doesn’t work, and comes out kind of reedy and strangled.

“Mr. Shirogane,” comes the tinny voice from his phone, and Shiro startles.

“Oh, shit, yes. Sorry. Um. I wanted to ask about my brother. Where is he? When can I pick him up?”

There’s a hesitance from the other end that Shiro doesn’t like. He sits up straighter, if at all possible, and Adam’s face hardens — it has been a four year long fight, with his mother, to try to get Keith over as often as possible for even an ounce of stability, and not a fight they have won very frequently, but it is not one they’re willing to give up. Shiro has no doubt that the state will fight just as hard as his mother did.

Adam and Shiro will simply fight harder.

“The safety of the child is the state’s first concern,” the lawyer says neutrally.

“Great. Give me an address and twenty minutes, then, and I’ll bring him right home.”

The lawyer’s voice is steely. “He is home, with a lovely young couple who are happy to have him.”

“There is a lovely young couple who he is related to and whom he has familiarity with right here,” Shiro grits out. “Tell me where my brother is.”

The lawyer waits a moment. “It might be a difficult transition, you know. It would be nice for Keith to have a mother and a father, for once.”

Before Shiro can even blink, a hand reaches over and snatches the phone right from his face, and Adam throws it open onto the bedspread, presses speaker, and sets off.

“You listen here, you gristly assed motherfucker. Takashi has the right of next of kin. Failing proof of neglect or abuse, which you have tried and failed to invent on our end so many times the court as all but banned you from trying again, Keith is legally required to be placed in our home should Shirogane Saori be found incapable of care. And, as you can imagine, lying on a table in a morgue renders one quite incapable. If you don’t provide an address clearly and concisely in the next fifteen seconds, I will sue not only you and your firm, but you mother, your father, your children, and you dusty tailor, you ugly brown suit wearing hetero. Are we understood?”

There’s another stretch of silence, wherein despite the gravity of the situation Shiro considers proposing to his fiancé again, before the lawyer finally speaks.

“…Group home on 4th and King.”

“Thank you,” Adam says tersely, and slams the phone closed. He scoffs at it. “Fucking jackass. Someone should kill him.”

Shiro snorts. Then he giggles. Then he starts laughing, and then he can’t stop, and he laughs so hard tears come to his eyes, and then they don’t stop, either, and his breath hitches and a lump forms in his throat and his whole face starts to get itchy. Adam pulls him into him immediately, cradling him into his lap like he’s a child, and he goes without resistance because it’s Adam doing to holding, and because he doesn’t know where this sadness is coming from. He has hated his mother for more years than he has loved her. The only time he’s thanked her for anything in the last eight years was one he held Keith in the hospital, skipping his first day of high school to do it. She has been crueler than kind to him for most of his life.

But she was his mother, in many ways. In all ways except the ones that mattered. And apparently that counts for something.

“We need to go,” Shiro whispers, trying to lift his head. Adam gently presses it back into his neck, holding his arms around him.

“It’s four in the morning, starshine. Maybe we wait a few hours?”

“No.” The hoarseness of his own voice makes him wince. “He can’t…Adam, I don’t even like my mother, and look at me. Keith is going to be inconsolable. She carted him around like a baby doll. He loved her.”

Adam winces. He knows it’s true as much as Shiro does. Their mother’s erratic lifestyle has gifted Keith an assortment of attachment issues, as evidenced by the tantrums whenever she dropped him off at their apartment when she was bored.

Not that Keith understands the issue. Because he is four, and because he has gone through more things in his four years of life than many children will before they are even ten, but not enough to stop thinking his mother is the most important person on Earth.

Quickly they dress, shoving in whatever clothes are near without worrying about looking presentable. They don’t bother with much more than brushing their teeth, skipping shaving and breakfast and coffee in favour of speeding to the parking garage.

It only takes them fifteen minutes to get to the group home the lawyer has mentioned, and they waste no time in rushing up the steps, uncaring of social norms or etiquette as they ring the doorbell and stand fidgeting at the front door.

It takes a long time for the door to open. Shiro can’t help feeling like that is intentional.

“What,” barks the man at the door, as if their intent isn’t expressly obvious given the circumstance.

“I’m here to pick up my brother,” Shiro says as politely as he can manage. “Keith?”

“He’s sleeping,” says the man, who Shiro presumes is one of the foster parents running the home. “Come back tomorrow.” He tries to slam the door shut, but before he can register his own movement Shiro is slamming his hand against the door. The wood cracks under his palm.

He doesn’t bother saying anything. He doesn’t have it in him. He simply shoves the door open, sending the man stumbling, and strides in, remembering at the last second to try and keep quiet so as to not wake any other sleeping children. It takes him three tries to find the right room, but when he finally swings open the right door he knows, from the very second he sees the lump of blankets on the bottom bunk in the far right corner. He stands frozen for a moment at the door, watching his baby brother breathe, seeing the dried tear tracks on his face, the stutter of his breaths and shake of his chest. His thumb is firmly in his mouth, a habit he’s had broken for two years.

Shiro’s eyes begin to leak again. He feels Adam squeeze his bicep once in comfort, then wordlessly he walks off, gathering the messy scattering of Keith’s things into a large backpack. Trusting him to know or guess what belongs to his brother — all largely things they’ve bought him — Shiro approaches the bed, kneeling carefully at the edge of it. He reaches out and brushes Keith’s hair out of his face, gliding his thumb across his forehead. It wrinkles as Keith wakes, squinting his eyes up at Shiro in grogginess and confusion. It takes him a moment to register what’s going on, but Shiro knows the exact second it does, because his indigo eyes go blank the way they do when Keith is so far overwhelmed he can’t even come close to starting to process how he feels. Shiro braces himself for whatever vitriol, likely directly quoted from their mother, is about to come out of his mouth.

“I don’t want you,” Keith cries. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, cracked and strained; a long, keening cry. His face twists up and he glares at Shiro in what can only be described as betrayal, as if it’s Shiro’s fault their mother is gone, as if it was Shiro’s evil plan to take her away forever so he can never go back.

He wouldn’t even be surprised if that’s what their mother has told him. It hurts anyway.

“I know,” he chokes out, hushed. He brushes his thumb over Keith’s forehead again, slow, from temple to temple, and to his surprise his brother leans into it slightly as his breaths hitch with sobs. “I know, baby.”

He exchanges a look with Adam, who, God Shiro loves him so much, understands immediately: they have ten minutes.

Two years ago, when their mother dropped Keith off at his doorstep one day and fucked off to Atlanta for a week, Shiro decided enough was enough. Keith was convinced she was coming back to get him every morning and was devastated when she didn’t. It was an endless, sisyphian cycle. Shiro took the day off school, took his limited funds, and brought Keith to a paediatric specialist. It was of course not the most thorough evaluation, as that was something that could only be done with time, but there was almost definitely some valuable input. Shiro learned, in harried, layman’s terms, that their mother’s flakiness meant Keith always believed he was about to be left behind. Her babying of him lead him to believe that he was at fault when that happened. When he was actually happened, he was prone to tears and affection, trying to win back his mother, trying to prove that he was a good enough baby doll for her, basically.

And if that doesn’t work…well. Then the hurt and the anger start, and God knows how long it will last.

“Ten minutes,” Adam mutters, stuffing one last thing into the backpack and shoving it over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Taking the blanket with him, because fuck these guys, Shiro lifts his baby brother up, holding him tightly to himself, pressing his face into his neck. He starts to powerwalk down the hallway back to the front door, Adam close behind him. He vaguely hears the same man who opened the door start to argue with them, start to try to stop them, and he trusts Adam to handle it, because all he can hear in his head is a countdown. If they don’t make it to the car in time and Keith starts really wailing, they are going to take him away, and Shiro knows he will never get fucking visiting rights because the family court system is the most broken thing in America, and Keith will be shoved into some random group home that doesn’t care about him and won’t care about him and he’ll be treated like shit or worse not treated like anything at all, and he will grow up thinking that there is no one who loves him and no one to turn to and Shiro will never forgive himself or his mother or the world.

He needs to get his brother to the car.

He rushes down the beaten down concrete steps as fast as he can while still being careful in the dark. The car is half a block away, the only place they could find parking, and he starts to jog, ignoring the ache in his arms. He’s held Keith for longer. At the seven minute mark, he registers yelling voices and a door slam and Adam’s rapid footsteps behind him, and by the ninth they make it to their beat up piece of shit fourth-hand car, throwing open the back door, setting Keith down gently, bucking the kid in as quickly as they can manage.

Shiro has lost count of how much time they have, if they have any at all. His heart pounds so rapidly he can feel it everywhere in his body. He’s bitten the inside of his cheek so harshly he can taste blood. He feels like he’s gonna throw up.

He’s barely thrown a seatbelt on by the time Adam shifts into gear and tears out onto the busy street, cars honking at him. Shiro meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, trying to find strength in his look, in his support. He tries to tell himself that the worst part is over, now; Keith is with him, beside him in the back seat, Keith is going to stay with him forever, now, he is going to make his baby brother’s life stable from now on. They are starting to swim their way out of the deep end.

And then the wailing starts.

It’s loud. Keith takes a huge, deep breath, then lets out a noise that Shiro can only describe as agonised, so big and heavy that it pulls on his little body, straining against the seatbelt. His face is bright red from the force of it, and Shiro can count his teeth with how wide open his mouth is. Bizarrely, Shiro wonders if he’s loud enough for the windows to break, or their eardrums. He’s not sure if his own pain comes from his ears or his heart.

“I want my mama!” Keith sobs, shouts, screams, cries. “I want my mama! I want my mama!”

“I know,” Shiro whispers again, for what feels like the millionth time that night. Between Keith’s stuttering breaths Shiro hears Adam’s soft cries, looks up to see tears streaming down his face. He’s surprised to find his own face dry as a bone, the lump in his throat he’d felt earlier completely disintegrated. He feels hollowed out. “I know, Akira. I know. I know.”

Shiro wonders if this is what it feels like to drown.

[empressgeekt]

Fic Prompt - Avatar Lo'ak AU (in a bending way)

Currently, with the release of the new movie, I'm sure that when someone hears the word AVATAR their mind goes to our favorite blue alien family. However, there is another, equally great, franchise by the same name. Avatar: The Last Air Bender (or Korra doesn't matter why part of the timeline you entered in). These are both high popular franchises, but someone in the fanfiction community there have been very few attempts to SMOOSH them together.

So, I present to you the Avatar Lo'ak AU.

Benders are still a thing on the dying earth, but since the four nations have fallen long ago, and many generations of people having kids between each other, humans who are benders could be anything no matter what other benders in their family are. The Avatar is mostly, a military role now. Whatever country they're born into they serve, and protect. The ides of world peace and balance is long past, lost to myth, so people are just fighting over the Avatars depending on which country they are born in, either training them to lead their soldiers or trying to kill them so the would be hopefully reborn in the killer's country. This means that when he was serving Jake actually had the chance to talk to the Avatar before Lo'ak (I'm calling her Adashi, don't know why). Jake would completely forget about this encounter, for years, until...

The day that like a 12-year-old Lo'ak enters the avatar state to save his siblings from some sort of predator in the forest. The whole family, plus Norm witness the event. Shock runs like wildfire, because 1, this is a human thing, and 2, the Navi has no clue what just happened. Norm is a complete obsessive geek when it comes to benders, and the Avatar, so he digs up all the research he did on it to help explain what Lo'ak is to Neytiri and Mo'at, however they don't really understand the gravity of what the young Navi is until Norm compares the Avatar to Toruk Makto, and what could happen if Lo'ak enters the avatar state with out proper training.

Sadly for Lo'ak there is little that can teach him control on Pandora currently. Jake is an earthbender (hadn't done it in years and never tried in Navi form, but apparently bending stuck with him after the body-swap), so he spends the next few years teaching Lo'ak earthbending. Due to their similar personalities, Lo'ak takes to earthbending like a fish to water, and is a very good earth bender in a few years. Norm manages to get his hands on other bending materials to at least get Lo'ak the basics on the other elements.

As for the rest of the plot. I have no idea. I keep jumping from one idea to another, and have nothing to string them together yet. Definitely think that some of the other RDA drivers will retain bending abilities and would want to hunt Lo'ak down. Maybe they revive other benders specifically to take down Lo'ak, one of them being Tommy Sully, because he was a decent Air Bender while alive, and than Jake would get his brother back and a lot of angst regarding Tommy not wanting to fight, a kid even before he learns that Lo'ak is his nephew. So, they rebel. Maybe they don't leave the forest because it is where Lo'ak can defined himself, or maybe they leave to protect him. Maybe the humans decide to eliminate all possible allies to the sullys and take out the homes of the other clans, before attacking the avatar's home. Making the reef people have to come to the forest in a role reversal.

So, many possibilities!!!!

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

This may be a klance, adashi and angst blog. But I am a Shay lover deep down

[keithtv]

*BUSTS DOWN DOOR*

i thought of something....voltron heartstopper au but with even more angst than what both of them had to offer. i am serious ... take it or leave it