#but if it seems abrupt. that is why. its also the precursor to that other drawing i did because apparently all i can do is angst dsklfds

[tobyisave]

It drove me nuts that Steven never tells Peridot what happened on the moon in Can't Go Back. Of course, I forgot that in canon it was daytime when he got back and she was already out of the house, so this scene isn't quite plausible. Oh well!

[thedevianthunterrk800]

Assumptions (Captain Allen x Reader)

This is me procrastinating writing with more writing :) 

Mature themes! But not exactly NSFW. 

Summary: A relationship is defined, and you forget to sneak your secret lover out before your roommates get home. 

Alternatively,

Tags: @heartsarecompatible​ @precursor-ao3 @thatoneemosithlord also @massivelymysticalsweets I hope this is fluffy and soft enough lol 

It only occurs to you that you’ve never had him over when you scan your fingerprint on the doorknob and he lets out a low whistle.

“Never seen one of those before,” he says with just a sliver of disbelief, eyeing the electronic lock distastefully.

“I think they remodeled this place right before we moved in,” you admit with a shrug, gently nudging the door open. A quick peek inside confirms that your roommates are indeed out for the night and you sigh in relief.

With much more confidence, you swing the door all the way open, the sensors setting the lights on.

Behind you, Allen snorts. “I grew up having to actually use light switches.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab his hand and lead him towards your room. “For the last time, this stuff’s new. I didn’t grow up here, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He seems distracted now, squeezing your hand in his. You’re suddenly acutely aware that the two of you are alone in the apartment, without any distractions for the whole night. A lot can happen in one night, something you only know too well from your previous…experiences with the SWAT captain.

You have to quickly remind yourself that you’re just packing an overnight bag so you can spend the night at his place, which you’ve been doing almost regularly. Of course, you try to behave and indulge him only every now and then because you don’t want to make your rather inquisitive roommates more suspicious than they already are. It doesn’t always work, though.

After all, you can hardly resist him.

With that being said, you’re barely surprised when, after entering your room, he suddenly pushes you backwards onto your bed. You fall with a gasp, and soon he’s crawling on top of you, a pleased smirk on his face.

“Dave…” you mumble, throwing your arms around his neck. He grins down at you, eyes shining the same way they do when he’s faced with a particularly difficult yet exciting task in the field. He sees the way your breath hitches when he begins to dip his head and he feels his chest tighten painfully, but not unpleasantly so.

If only you knew what you did to him…

His lips are on yours in an instant and you pull him closer, until his arms almost give. You don’t mind if he crushes you with his weight, which is a terrifying thought in its own right, but you can hardly concentrate on anything other than him and the way he feels pressed against you.

I love you, you want to say. But it might be too soon. Hell, you know it’s too soon.

Still, it’s his fault for making you fall so hard so quickly. It’s his fault for always catching your eye, offering up conversation even when he’s busy and really has no time to dilly-dally. 

Why is it that despite that, he always finds a way to see you, to ask you how your day is going, and to sometimes even bring you coffee or donuts?

You don’t know what changed, how your friendship developed into… this.

Into lingering touches that leave you wanting more.

Into burning kisses that you can feel for the next few days, that you crave more than anything.

Into secret escapades in the moonlight that end with you under him like you are right now, trembling from both pleasure and desire.

Neither of you have given this arrangement a title yet, and as much as you want to call it a relationship, you’re still not entirely sure if he’s even interested in that. He certainly acts that way, but he’s full of acts when he’s at work. How can you be sure this one’s any different?

For now, you push the doubts to the back of your mind. You close your eyes and try to lose yourself to his warm hands, soft lips, and eyes that never once leave your face.

I love you, you want to say.

One day, you hope he’ll feel the same.

::

You can’t even say you’re surprised that you both ended up falling asleep after some rather intense sex that lasted too long given the time constraints. At any rate, you don’t recall ‘quickies’ taking roughly two hours.

The plan, which he had sleepily (your first warning sign) suggested, was to take a well-deserved nap before finally gathering your things, and then finishing the evening at his place. Neither of you had work the next day, so it was set up to be a perfect, stress-free romp that would continue into the morning until you were both completely sexed out.

That, unfortunately, is not what actually happened.

Nobody woke up after an hour. Nobody bothered to set an alarm.

Instead, you find yourself startled awake when you hear a door slam outside, and two muffled voices reach your ears.

Fucking. Hell.

You sit up quickly, still in a total state of undress. Beside you, Allen is blinking blearily, jolted awake at your abrupt movement.

Your first instinct is to apologize, but then you realize who exactly is in your bed, and more importantly, who the other two outside are.

“They’re home,” you hiss a little more loudly than you intended, and it irks you that Allen hardly seems to care. “They’ll see us!”

“So?” the SWAT captain responds with a poorly-contained yawn, rolling his shoulders.

“What about keeping this a secret?”

He merely shrugs. “I’m sure it would’ve come out anyway.”

You groan, throwing your head back in anguish. “How can you be so fucking calm right now?”

At the distress in your voice, he raises an eyebrow at you, genuinely confused. “Why are you so worried about this?”

“Because! This. This is not allowed, right?”

“What, being in a relationship with someone a few ranks higher than you?”

You open your mouth to point out that he’s more than simply some random guy “a few ranks higher” than you, but then his words suddenly hit you.

Just like that, the horrifying idea of Tina and Gavin catching you walking out of your room with Allen hardly seems to matter all that much.

“We’re in a relationship?” you squeak, earning you an expression of pure disbelief from the gorgeous, naked man squished next to you on your full bed.

“Wh—what the fuck have we been doing this whole time then?” he splutters, properly taken aback by what you can only guess from his face is one of the most ridiculous things you’ve said to him yet.

“Well, we never talked about it,” you point out sheepishly, laughing a little when Allen slowly shakes his head as if he truly cannot believe what he is hearing.

“Jesus fuck. I thought I made it pretty fucking clear,” he mutters mainly to himself. You’re not sure if he’s amazed or horrified at the sudden turn of events, but you can safely say that you are beyond elated. Fuck, even that doesn’t do it justice.

Grinning from ear to ear, you surge forward and tackle him backwards into the bed. He barely misses hitting his head against the wall in the process but you don’t care, too ecstatic about the fact that you’re not the only one who has fallen madly in love these past few weeks.

Before he can say anything more, you grab the sides of his face and crush your lips against his. He lets out a small noise of surprise, followed by a chuckle as you continue your assault on his mouth. He relaxes beneath you, one hand resting on your hip and the other stroking your back.

This isn’t at all how you predicted this morning would turn out, but you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

When the two of you finally pull apart, Allen continues to chase your lips. You give in, of course, and the only thing that successfully prevents this from leading to yet another passionate round of sex is the loud shrill of his cellphone lying on the ground. Wincing at the intrusion, Allen swoops down to grab the device, scowling at the flashing name on the screen before answering.

“Allen.”

He makes faces at you as the caller, who you can only guess is yet another nameless higher up, begins to ramble on and on, with Allen offering the occasional “yes” and “alright”. This goes on for a few minutes before the SWAT captain ends the call with a curt, “I’ll be in at ten.”

Your face drops when you hear that. This is supposed to be his day off, one to be spent with you, his newly official significant other no less. He sees your disappointment and offers a consoling smile.

“Hey, don’t worry, babe,” he assures you, gathering you into his lap. You don’t complain, always content to be in his arms. “I don’t think I have to stay all day.”

You’d much rather he not go in at all, but that would only raise suspicions, wouldn’t it? As it is, you’ve already kept him to yourself for several hours now. Though you don’t want to, you have to let him leave. “I guess I can’t keep you here too long, huh?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll return the favor tonight.” He then winks at you and you have to physically restrain yourself from jumping his bones once again. Breathing sharply through your nose and reminding yourself that no, you can’t let him get distracted now, you detangle your limbs from his and hop off the bed.

Allen looks a little disappointed but seems to remember that it’s his fault you had to get up. He climbs out the bed after you, stretching his arms in front of him.

The two of you silently get dressed—Allen gets a bit handsy and you half-heartedly slap him for that—and in the lovestruck daze you’re in, you forget that your roommates are likely lounging in the living room outside.

It’s only when you pull your door open and step out do you realize that the two of you are no longer alone in the apartment.

“There you are—” Tina begins, looking up from the television. Her voice cuts off when she recognizes the bemused face behind you, and the half-eaten bagel she’s holding slips from her hand. At that exact second, Gavin emerges from the bathroom, still buttoning his jeans.

He glances up briefly and immediately double-takes when he realizes that there’s a fourth person in the apartment, and not one he would have ever expected to see.

“What the fuck?” he blurts without thinking, causing Allen to smirk almost triumphantly.

Your eyes dart between Gavin and Tina, both of whom are practically gawking at you in pure incredulity. Unable to form any words at the moment, you offer them a shaky grin, blindly reaching behind you to grab Allen’s arm so you can haul him out of there as quickly as possible.

Allen instead takes your hand in his own, causing you to flush and Tina to cover her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her snickering. Meanwhile, Gavin continues to gape at the pair of you, obviously unable to wrap his head around the fact that one of his most unassuming friends and roommate is currently and actively fucking Captain “Get in my way and I’ll fuck you up” Allen, a man that even he tries not to piss off.

Looking completely unfazed as always, Allen leads you towards the front door, taking the liberty to open it when you fail to.

Not that he can blame you.

You look like you just got caught with your hand inside the cookie jar, after all.

“I’ll let you know when I get done,” he says, stepping out into the hallway. You nod dumbly, leaning against the doorframe because you don’t trust yourself to stand upright properly at the moment.

Allen merely smiles at you. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

You nod again, returning his smile weakly. “Y-yeah. Sounds good.”

For a few seconds, he only stares at you oddly. It looks as though he has something to say but isn’t sure exactly what, or even if now is the time to say it all. 

Somehow, you get it.

“I love you.”

Behind you, Tina drops her mug of coffee.

[goodvibesatpeace]

Theories: Darwinism and Our Extraterrestrial DNA

If you fancy a bit of light reading 😀

The mysteries of ancient history, such as how the great pyramid was built and by whom and why, have been well established over the past four decades. Similar archaeological enigmas litter the landscape around the planet and they raise many difficult questions about the origin of human civilisation.

Erik Von Daniken’s series of books, which began with Chariots of the Gods, presented archeological evidence while recounting many mythological traditions that have “gods” arriving on Earth from a distant world and bringing technology and the arts of civilised life to primitive human tribes.

Many writers followed Von Daniken’s lead and an entire school of alternative historical thought called the “ancient astronaut” theory emerged over the years. This school must be distinguished from another branch largely defined by such writers as Graham Hancock, which we can sum up as the “lost civilisation” school.

The latter does not figure into this discussion nor is it covered in the book The Genesis Race because it never really addresses the issue of the ultimate origins of Man or civilisation. Even if you accept the idea ancient Egypt and Sumer had their origins in Atlantis, who created that civilisation and from what precursors?

The essential questions the author has been studying over the past three decades are:

1) how did life originate and evolve on Earth?, and

2) how did civilisation suddenly emerge from mankind’s primitive roots?

To my mind it seemed the ancient astronaut theory could be defeated if Darwin’s theory proved to be correct, which “official science” claims it has been. That premise can be justified using several valid arguments.

The “ancient astronaut” theory generally includes the idea summed up in the first chapter of Genesis, which indicates the “gods” genetically engineered a proto-human race. The actual verse reads, “Let us make man in our image.” If Darwinism is accurate then this assertion would be untrue and the notion of cosmic intervention by an advanced race would fall apart.

The second reason is Darwin’s theory has not only been applied to biology, it is also used to explain the emergence and development of human civilisation by a process referred to as cultural evolution.

At its core Darwinism is based on a simple concept: life evolves slowly via a process of incremental adaptations to a wide variety of external stimulus. He applied it to biology and anthropologists, archaeologists and historians applied the same principles to culture and human history. If this is correct then we should not find any abrupt transformations in human “evolution” either biological or historical.

I reason that if Darwinism is accurate then there may not be any valid scientific basis for the “ancient astronaut” theory, which posited intervention and rapid-fire metamorphosis in both the biological and historical spheres. The results of this research proved surprising.

Darwinism is not only unproven – it has been shown by scientists to be fatally flawed.

This is where the book, The Genesis Race, begins…

Chapters two and three clearly show the flaws in the theory of evolution. It has failed exactly where Darwin feared it might – in the fossil record. Here we find – instead of widespread confirmation – a large number of missing links.

The general public is given to believe the only “missing link” in the fossil record exists between apes and man. This is not true. The fossil record contains hundreds of gaps between ancient and modern plant and animal species.

Darwin referred to the gap separating the primitive non-flowering plants (gymnosperms) and flowering plants (angiosperms) as the “abominable problem.” Why? Because the gymnosperms, like ferns, existed for billions of years and they still exist today.

The angiosperms, like roses, appeared on the scene about 150 million years ago and they exist today. Where is the evidence showing the fern evolved through a series of slow, incremental changes into a rose?

According to Darwinism the angiosperms evolved from the gymnosperms. If this is true then where are the intermediate forms linking the two very different types of plants? They have not been found in the fossil record and none exist today. This seems impossible and it is if you accept the principles of Darwinism.

There is no scientific explanation for the lack of intermediate plants linking the ancient and modern types. In fact, there should be millions of such fossils since they would have been evolving for hundreds of millions of years, far longer than flowering plants.

Scientists also have no explanation why gymnosperms and angiosperms exist side by side. Somehow all the intermediate plants they say connect the two kingdoms mysteriously vanished from the fossil record and became extinct. Logic would dictate that the older, ancient plants (non-flowering) should have been the ones to go the way of extinction.

This is actually enough evidence to kill Darwinism. Official science would have us believe the only dissenters against Darwinism are Creationists that come from the ranks of the Religious Right.

However, I present numerous references to bona fide scientists that slam the door on Darwin’s theory of natural evolution.

What is, or should be, of great interest to anyone interested in the pursuit of science – as it applies to getting to the truth of human origins and the emergence of civilisation – are the works of Francis Crick and Fred Hoyle.

While Von Daniken’s books were becoming popular in mainstream culture, these two eminent scientists wrote books about the origins of life on Earth. Both were highly critical of Darwinism and posited that life did not originate on Earth. They said the seeds of the biosphere originated in the cosmos.

In his book Life Itself, Crick – a Nobel prize-winner and the co-founder of the shape of the DNA molecule – claimed an advanced civilisation transported the seeds of life to Earth in a spacecraft.

Hoyle, an astronomer who gave the world the steady state theory of the Universe, proposed that life came from the stars borne on comets or riding on the currents of light waves.

The unfortunate thing is these rigorous scientific arguments were largely dismissed or completely ignored by “official science”, and also overlooked by the same folks embracing Von Daniken’s relatively unscientific, yet popular approach. (Erik did make people question and think.)

I want to clarify what I mean by that statement. Von Daniken claimed he was presenting a theory yet the title of his first book ended with a question mark.

A new theory is normally offered by presenting arguments against the currently accepted theory, as Crick and Hoyle did, and it is presented assertively with equal measures of humility and confidence that do not end in a question mark.

His somewhat insecure and uncritical approach has characterised much of the “ancient astronaut” literature, which official science finds easy to debunk.

That is why The Genesis Race begins with a serious critique of Darwinism. That is followed by several chapters re-examining the account of human genesis and the early history found in the Bible. A revolutionary analysis of the first three chapters clearly shows there were two creation events of life (and mankind) on Earth.

It also shows the history given in the Bible agrees with the findings of paleontology and anthropology. In the first chapter we find that an early proto-human race was created and lived in the wilderness, like other animals, as hunter-gatherers. They were given “every green thing to eat” by the gods and Genesis 1 ends with that covenant.

However, in the second chapter we are told Adam is created to be a gardener and Eve is taken from Adam’s rib and the “gods” give them clothing and self-awareness. The chronological account of Creation in the second chapter is entirely different than that of the first chapter of Genesis.

This is a critical point. Not only do the two accounts differ completely, we find Adam is not to live in the wilderness as an animal but is intended to be a caretaker and farmer. If the two accounts are compared side by side the difference is obvious:

Adam and Eve are not equivalent to the race created in Genesis 1; and Genesis 2 and 3 are not a detailed elucidation of the events described in the first chapter, which is normally implied or taught in church Bible classes.

What the first three chapters of Genesis actually describe are:

1) the creation of a proto-human race, the pre-Neanderthals and Neanderthals who live as hunter-gatherers in an innocent state as described in chapter 1, followed by,

2) the genesis of modern Homosapiens (Adam) fit for the agricultural revolution.

That is exactly the history given in Genesis and it agrees with everything modern science establishes about the chronology of human pre-history.

This is a radical revision giving much stronger support to the Biblical version of human genesis and how and why the agricultural revolution took place.

It also clarifies who the “us” refers to when God is abruptly referred to as ‘a plurality’ that intervenes and genetically alters life on Earth, the Genesis Race; and it sets the stage for a presentation of the enigmatic archaeological and additional evidence that further supports the theory of intervention by a technologically advanced extraterrestrial race.

Archaeology has never even addressed all the questions raised by the sudden emergence of agriculture and highly advanced civilisations in Mesopotamia and Egypt in the 3rd millennium BCE, let alone answered the most critical ones.

From the perspective of conventional archeological and anthropological thinking, the origins of humankind and the emergence of civilisation from the Stone Age remain enigmatic. We have incontrovertible proof our ancestors could not have built the Great Pyramid with the tools and methods they possessed.

Yet official science simply ignores or tries to explain away many serious questions and issues such as how the Great Pyramid – the world’s largest precision-engineered stone structure – was constructed using only hammer-stones, ropes, manpower and sledges.

However, there are other issues that need to be addressed and today’s genetic research is shedding new light on this field. The implications of several important recent findings seem to have escaped the attention of many independent investigators.

Established archaeologists and anthropologists have either ignored or railed against the findings of these controversial DNA studies. I am referring to genetic studies into the origin of the domesticated dog and into the diet of our Paleolithic and early Neolithic ancestors.

You may ask what do the dog and Stone Age dietary habits have to do with solving the enigmas of mankind’s ancient past? The answer is everything.

Until recently it was believed dogs (Canis familiaris) came from a variety of wild canines such as wolves, coyotes, dingos, jackals, etc. But the latest DNA research shows that the wolf alone is the ancestral race of all dogs.

This poses a set of very difficult problems. The first dog would have been a mutant wolf. However, wolves are extremely sensitive to the genetic fitness and strength of each member of the pack. They are constantly testing and establishing a stringent social pecking order and only the alphas reproduce.

So how would a mutant ever have survived and reproduced given the rigours of pack behaviour? No wolves in captivity have produced viable mutants and geneticists tell us mutants are normally unfit and do not survive.

We are faced with a real conundrum. If we pose that early human tribes intervened and bred wolves into dogs we are faced with an equally impossible scenario. How could primitive humans have known it was possible to selectively breed a wild animal into one possessing only those traits beneficial to them?

We take the characteristics of dogs for granted, however, they present us with a profound mystery. A dog is the embodiment of only those wolf traits that people find useful, attractive and safe. How did genetically illiterate Stone Age humans achieve this feat of genetic engineering?

This problem is compounded when we are confronted by evidence from our earliest civilisations showing that salukis, sighthounds and the pharaoh’s hound, had already been bred in ancient Sumeria and Egypt.

How is it possible our ancestors, recently emerged from the Stone Age, could have successfully engineered purebred lines at the onset of civilisation? In addition, dogs are not only temperamentally different than their wild progenitors, they differ physiologically as well.

A wild alpha male and female only breed once a year, whereas dogs can breed any time. Wolves shed their winter coats, dogs do not. These diverging physiological characteristics take time to develop, in fact, many generations. Again, how did our ancestors at the onset of civilisation accomplish this?

This mystery is underscored by the fact most of the modern dog breeds originated thousands of years ago. Science has not even addressed most of these issues let alone have the experts satisfactorily explained how wolves became dogs – 100,000 years ago – nor have they shown the step-by-step transitions.

Purebred dogs just suddenly appear in the archeological record as if by magic. This is also true of agriculture and our key cereal and legume crops. Wheat, corn, beans and rice pose a second set of genetic enigmas.

Research into the dietary habits of Stone Age tribes around the globe show our ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors subsisted on leafy plants and lean muscle meats. This makes perfect sense because these foods were readily available, took little or no processing, and wild game could be cooked over an open fire.

The problem with our grain crops, and they are the basis of civilisation, is wild grass seeds are so miniscule the cost/benefit of harvesting them was not in favour of it. They also require harvesting, threshing and cooking technology since they have to be boiled extensively. This was technology Stone Age Man lacked.

The reason grains have to be cooked is that the human gut is not adapted to digest wild grains. This makes it very clear the use of wild grass seeds as a primary food source is of recent origin. Our Paleolithic ancestors did not subsist on them.

Once again, this poses a set of formidable problems that need to be studied rigorously. If our ancestors did not harvest and eat wild grains, how could they have domesticated and bred the wild species so quickly?

Without many generations of trial and error experimentation – culminating in a vast body of agronomic knowledge and agricultural practices that would have included genetics and breeding – it is all but impossible to understand how the agricultural revolution was brought about.

Official science tries to explain the evolution of nomadic hunter-gatherers into sedentary, crop-growing farmers by claiming they discovered crops quite by accident. We are told it happened when a primitive villager tossed a seed bearing plant into the trash pile and noticed that it sprouted.

But that trite tale can hardly explain how they selected the best wild species to use as the basis for the agricultural revolution. There are thousands and thousands of potential wild plants that could be turned into agricultural crops.

How is it people with very little experience with wild grasses were able to pick the best varieties to breed? This represents a quantum leap. What we are asked to believe is that our ancestors, without much experience at the seminal stage of civilisation, were able to select and breed the very best varieties of wild grass species.

How do we know this is true? Because we still grow the very crops they supposedly selected even after 5,000 years of continuous technological and agricultural development.

We are asked to suspend disbelief and accept they also constructed the largest precision-engineered stone building the world has ever seen – the Great Pyramid of Giza – using only primitive hand tools and backbreaking labor. Something is obviously wrong with this picture.

Is it logical to assume our Earthly ancestors could (or would) have thrown together the agricultural revolution and then the entire civilisations of Sumer and Egypt out of whole cloth? No it is not; and neither do these suppositions represent sound science.

For those of us in the alternative history camp, one of the most fundamental questions we must impress upon the public and upon ‘official science’ is to ask where are the antecedents and precedents?

Show us the slow Darwinian stages of development that official history presupposes. How can you explain the sudden appearance of genetically altered food crops and advanced engineering techniques at the onset of human civilisation?

We need step-by-step documentation and incontrovertible evidence and it ought to be copious and devoid of missing links since we are supposedly talking about events that occurred thousands and not tens or hundreds of millions of years ago, as is the case with biological evolution.

Where did our Paleolithic ancestors acquire the knowledge and skills to breed wild plants into food crops while also constructing planned cities? How did they achieve an exacting command of the principles of civil engineering as exhibited in Sumeria and the Harrappan civilisation of the Indus Valley?

How did humans go from mud huts and collecting leafy plants to building ziggurats, flush toilets, public bathhouses (Mohenjo Daro), making bread in ovens, and inventing process metallurgy seemingly overnight? In plain language, where is the proof – the missing links – demonstrating your (official science) theories are confirmed in the archaeological record and meet simple standards of logic and commonsense?

Turning to what our ancestors in Sumer, Mexico, Egypt and Peru have to say about the origins of agriculture and civilisation we find a very different story. According to the ancient records, written and oral traditions, none of the earliest civilisations claimed they invented it. What is of profound interest is they are in unanimous accord in claiming they were given the arts of civilisation by the ‘gods’.

It is very unlike human nature to give credit to anyone else for anything we have invented or achieved. The ancient Egyptians left copious records of every aspect of their culture in a huge collection of artwork, hieroglyphics and texts.

Yet, we find no reference in their 3,000 year history as to how or why ‘they’ built the pyramids. What a curious lapse of documentation for such a communicative race assuming they did indeed built the pyramids. Would they have omitted any reference to their most important monuments?

That seems a preposterous supposition and yet Egyptologists gloss over it as they do the lack of mummies in the alleged ‘pyramids-as-tombs’ scenario they embrace without blushing.

These are all clues, pieces of a vast planetary puzzle, telling the story of the Genesis Race. The references to these ‘gods’ that arrived on Earth to uplift man are described in the Bible and other ancient texts and traditions. Their megalithic calling cards are found in Egypt, Mexico, Peru and China.

The Darwinian-based theories of ‘official science’, concerning the origin of Man and human civilisation, lead to a series of intellectual dead ends.

If we closely examine the record we find civilisation was founded upon five primary inventions:

1) Agriculture,

2) Urbanisation,

3) Writing,

4) The Wheel, and

5) Process metallurgy.

Now, what happens when we try to uncover the origins of these key inventions in the archaeological and historical record? We find anthropologists and historians positing that agriculture was probably discovered by accident when our primitive ancestors tossed plants into the garbage heap and noticed the seeds produced new plants.

Of course that does not explain what motivated them to plant and harvest wild grass seeds (they almost never ate) and how they learned to selectively breed and domesticate (alter) these plants genetically.

Well, they brush aside these queries with the same logic. This, too, was probably a serendipitous process that moved forward by a series of benign and happy coincidences. We are given to imagine the first domesticated animal, an example of perfect selective breeding, also took place when Paleolithic tribesman – via unknown techniques – domesticated a line of mutant wolves.

Then we learn that process metallurgy, too, was the result of an accident, when someone dropped a piece of malachite into a campfire and observantly noticed that as it melted it produced copper.

In short, the fundamental paradigm ‘official science’ has formulated on how human life originated and how we created civilisation rests on a series of ‘miraculous’ accidents and impossible knowledge and skills!

Egyptologists would have us believe the primitive tribes living along the Nile in oval huts who used mud-bricks to build mastabas for millennia were suddenly capable of advanced quarry operations, stonemasonry, architecture and corporate engineering.

Of course, they cannot explain how these primitive peoples built a massive, precision-engineered pyramid using only round hammerstones, wooden sledges and human labor.

The Egyptian’s could not have built it, did not build it, and never claimed they were the pyramid’s creators

It is simply not possible to quarry, lift, drag and transport 70-ton blocks of granite 500 miles from the Aswan quarry to Giza and up 150 vertical feet and precisely position them in the King’s Chamber as Egyptologists claim was done.

I have repeatedly challenged Egyptologists, and their irrational, unscientific fellow travelers to demonstrate how the blocks of granite in the King’s Chamber can be quarried and lifted out of the quarry-bed and transported using the primitive tools and methods they claim were used. It cannot be done!

Furthermore, this author claims he can show that any academics – mathematicians, anthropologists and/or engineering professors – who believe and teach these absurdities to students are lunatics running the asylums – our scientific institutions and universities.

This is certainly a serious, bold indictment and yet it must be made because it is true and it is high time to expose the intellectual chicanery and fraud perpetrated upon generations.

I am not making these claims to create a controversy but to resolve a long-standing debate that has profound ramifications since it involves eliminating falsehoods and getting to the historical facts.

How can I make such strong accusations with complete confidence?

First, the author has studied the engineering problems intensively and extensively comparing the building of modern-day monuments using state-of-the-art technology to the construction of the Great Pyramid using primitive tools and methods.

Second, I have examined the recent record of tests conducted by Egyptologists and others trying to prove they could quarry, move and lift blocks of stone using nothing but ancient tools and techniques. Both studies yielded the same results: the Great Pyramid could not have been built with hammerstones, sledges and ramps.

One test filmed by Nova was organised by Egyptologist Mark Lehner and involved leading experts in a variety of fields. The team set out to quarry, move and lift a 35-ton obelisk into place. They failed miserably at every step.

The master stonemason could not quarry the block using the primitive tools he was given. A Cat was called in to quarry the block and lift it onto a flatbed truck; sensing defeat they never even tried to transport it using a wooden sledge. The block was half the weight of one those used in the King’s Chamber.

A Nissan funded Japanese team conducted another serious test in 1978. They set out to build a small-scale duplicate of the Great Pyramid also using the primitive tools and techniques Egyptologists claim the ancients employed.

This group was confident they could demonstrate how it was done. However, when they tried to quarry the blocks they found the hammerstones were not equal to the task. They called in pneumatic jackhammers. When they tried to ferry the blocks across the river on a primitive barge, they sank. They called in a modern tugboat for help.

Then they loaded a block onto a sledge only to find that it stubbornly sank into the sand when they tried to drag it to the site. They called for trucks and loaders. The final coup d’grace was delivered when they were forced to call in helicopters to lift and position the blocks into place.

Even using modern technology the Japanese team found, to their utter embarrassment, they could not bring the apex of their tiny 60 feet tall replica together. They suffered a bitter and quite humbling defeat in the unforgiving Egyptian desert. Their replica of the Great Pyramid turned out to be a joke.

We are supposed to believe men using tools marginally better than Stone Age equipment, quarried, lifted and hauled millions of blocks of stone to form a precision-engineered 4-million ton tomb. Stuff of nonsense!

The conventional scenario is not just an absurd proposition that can only be maintained using intellectual smoke and mirrors, it is downright silly. The real question is, how could anyone with any commonsense have ever believed it?

There are, of course, many other problems with the primitive tools and methods scenario and the Great Pyramid. To begin with Mark Lehner commissioned an engineering firm to study the site.

They found that the 13-acre base had been leveled with an accuracy equal to that achieved by modern day lasers. Are we to believe a 13-acre limestone bench was planed with that degree of precision using rounded hammerstones to grind down the rock until it was almost perfectly flat?

Furthermore, the Descending Passage was actually the next phase of this massive construction project. It too had to be dug out of solid bedrock. The problems with this phase of the project are manifold.

The passageway was only about 3 by 4 feet, just large enough to accommodate one worker at a time. It was dug 150 feet underground maintaining a precise angle of 26 degrees and a negligible deviation from side to side and bottom to top throughout its length. Then it was opened up into several rooms and another passageway. How?

Why would the ancients dig a straight tunnel under a 4-million ton tomb and how was the passageway kept straight and true? Egyptian ‘engineers’ had no more than ropes in their toolkits.

The author can also prove these two phases alone – leveling the base and digging the Descending Passageway – would have required half the time Egyptologists have allotted to the entire construction project. They, in fact, never even include these two phases in their calculations.

But we have other important fish to fry. During decades of research the author noted some curious similarities between Sumer, Egypt and the Indus Valley – the sites of our earliest civilisations – that do not add up. As we all know now, the ruins of Sumer are located in modern day Iraq.

Our history and anthropology books routinely tell us that agriculture and civilisation were given birth in benign and highly fertile river valleys. But when we stop and closely examine these locations we find they are some of the hottest, driest and most inhospitable places on the planet.

The temperatures in these locations for 6 months out of the year are typically between 35-48 degrees Celsius (95-118ºF). It is true the alluvial flood plains of the Nile, Tigris-Euphrates and ancient Indus rivers were fertile.

But it takes considerable agronomic and hydrological knowledge to know this and to convert the marshes and control the floods to turn these wetlands into productive farmland. The question is how did our ancient ancestors, so recently emerged from the hunter-gatherer way of life, so quickly acquire this knowledge and develop these skills?

When we peer out from the ziggurats of ancient Sumer, the sandblasted pyramids of Egypt or the ruined cities of the Indus Valley, we do not see fruited-plains but vast, blistering, desert expanses.

Is it not difficult to envision our primitive ancestors rolling out their blueprints for civilisation while squinting into the sun and deciding this is where the first cities and great monuments would be built and the first real cropland cultivated?

The scenario jars the mind and makes hash out of the comfortable fantasies painted by ‘official science’. Is something starting to smelly funny or is the author’s nose just too sensitive?

I do seem to detect the subtle aroma of too many skeletons and enigmas – having been shoved hurriedly into too many closets and musty catacombs – wafting up from ancient stones and bones…

We have to examine several other items that do not pass the smell test. Sumer, Egypt and the Indus Valley share some other critical features in common which make them unlikely places for primitive peoples to have developed our first civilisations.

We should expect to find civilisations evolving where people had immediate access to a wide variety of resources. The most logical scenario would be in river valleys near forested, mineral rich mountains.

This is a logical expectation since people needed water, fuel (wood) for fires, tool handles and building materials as well as copper, gold and silver to make jewellery and tools and so on.

We would expect to find this association not just to establish they had immediate access to these necessary resources, but also that they had been engaged in a prolonged period of extracting, processing and working with these resources.

Unfortunately, Sumer, the birthplace of civilisation, was completely lacking in forests, minerals and even stones. This is a curious, illogical fact. How did this strange tribe, speaking an odd tongue and calling themselves ‘the black-headed people’, invent civilisation in the middle of a barren desert wasteland?

Egypt was also bereft of forests, as was the Indus Valley. The point is not that civilisation was or is impossible in these areas, but that it is supposed to have originated in these harsh, desert environs lacking many basic resources.

Yet we find the Sumerians ingeniously mining copper and tin and creating the first alloy, bronze, in kilns around 3000 BCE. In rapid-fire succession they invented the wheel, the chariot, the sailboat, writing, cities, labor specialisation, civil engineering and on and on. Ostensibly, the tribes of the Indus Valley and the Nile would soon follow.

They did all this while most of the world’s tribes were still living as hunter-gatherers, another fact that demolishes the theories of cultural Darwinists. You cannot explain the radical departure from the human norm by several tribes without invoking some form of racism or inexplicable genetic deviations.

The other curious features we find in common among Earth’s ‘first’ civilisations are that none of them claimed they invented agriculture, laws, morality or the other prime tools of civilisation.

The Sumerians claimed they owed everything to the ‘gods’ (Anunnaki) that had descended from the heavens to Earth to create and teach mankind the arts of civilised life. The ancient Egyptians referred to the Nefertu who ruled over them during the Zep Tepi (First Time) for thousands of years until they handed over the reigns to the human pharaohs.

Our real human history as handed down by our ancestors is far more exciting and incredible than the pabulum ‘official’ science has been force feeding us for many generations.

Mankind is indeed on the threshold of a re-awakening to a new dawn; the time of profound revelations about the truth of our astonishing origins and history is at hand.

Be Open Minded and Question Everything... Love and Light to all 💓💓💓💓

[ajora]

This is a work in progress and I’ll probably post the completed version on my fandom blog. That should wait until I can cite my sources, and those sources are scattered over several Japanese guidebooks. FF5 timeline, plus a briefer on the major locations and how upbringing affects the mains, with possible a segue to that ficverse I’ve been a bit obsessed with exploring. May or may not include elements from Legend of the Crystals--I don’t really see it as canon because the OVA pretty much got everything wrong and couldn’t even be consistent in its designs for the Light Warriors. Fic-related stuff and extrapolation will be in italics. Names and romanizations are either my own or from the Japanese publications and ja.wiki. This will be of interest to no one, probably. Heh. Anyway, ahead on our way. 

Timeline

> 1000 years before the game -- Either the Lonkan empire or its precursor rules over the area of Gohn (1st world)/Bal (2nd world) to Mirage (2nd world) and Crescent Island (1st world). The world exist in its original form. Some unknown civilization built the Great Pyramid. 

1000 years ago -- Enuo comes to power and sacrifices his immortality to wield the power of the Void. The Crystals are split to seal his power, and the split rends the world in two. The split may have occurred in Mirage, as Mirage is trapped in a state of suspended animation until the halves of the world reunite in part 3 of the game. 

At some point, undefined -- Lonkan empire falls on the 1st world. I’m not sure how much of it remained on the 2nd world.

700 years ago (2nd world) -- Ghido is born

500 years ago  (2nd world) -- After a few hundred years of serving as a seal to hosts of evil spirits, a tree becomes sapient and takes the form of a person who calls himself ExDeath. Ghido seals ExDeath. It doesn’t last. 

30 years ago (2nd world) -- ExDeath breaks out of his seal, rains havoc on his world in the effort to claim Enuo’s power, is challenged by the Dawn Warriors. Point of interest in the Japanese wiki is that Dorgan is the only commoner among them--Kelgar was elected to power and Galuf and Zezae probably inherited their thrones.

30 years ago (1st world) -- ExDeath chased down to the first world and is sealed. Dorgan stays behind to watch the seal. Dragon population reduced to one known sky dragon: Alexander Highwind Tycoon’s. It is unknown whether ExDeath’s war was directly responsible or not, but there is mention in one of the books that there was some sort of war leading to the sky dragon extinction. A similar decimation seems to have occurred in the 2nd world, too. Did ExDeath just hate dragons?

Game present -- ExDeath breaks his seal, new Light Warriors are chosen by the Crystals, shenanigans, ExDeath reunites the halves of the world and gains the power of the Void, ExDeath defeated.

1 year after -- Game epilogue. 

3 years after game present, ficverse -- Once things settle down and the people of a world separated for 1000 years get a little more used to there being castles and towns where there weren’t castles or towns before, politics are tense. Karnak is unstable after ExDeath’s war and teetering on total collapse, Surgate becomes the birthplace of an experiment in rule by the commons, Krile tries to resist squabbling with Jacole and the Nazalea islands over former Lonkan territory, there’s a lot of grumbling over Tycoon being home to two Light Warriors (not to mention the sudden assumption of the king’s role as head of military by an actual pirate, the building of airships, and what looks a lot like heightened militarization to other nation but is actually just a public works program and Tycoon funneling Faris’ pirates into steady work that involves less pillaging), so on. Krile discovers that the Light Warriors are still connected to their Crystals, despite surrendering the bulk of their power at the end of the game. Dragons have returned to the world. 

5 years after game, ficverse -- Tycoon’s voluntary, largely bloodless shift from absolute monarchy to a constitutional monarchy is considered a sign of weakness by the king of Walse and a distant cousin who thinks Tycoon should go back to being an absolute monarchy. Excavation in Lonkan ruins unearths some old weaponry and maybe one of Enuo’s lieutenants. Lenna doesn’t want to fight new battles, but at least she has help. 

Characters

Butz Klauser -- Only male Light Warrior, though Faris is always kinda debatable, gender-wise. Lost his mother when he was 3 years old, lost his father when he was 17. Went a-wandering because it was his father’s dying wish. Has a bit of a naughty streak, but he’s 20 so technically not entirely mature. Probably still has a bit of his fear of heights, though it’s not as strong as it used to be. Fic-wise, 3 years later: Still roaming and checking up on the Crystals. Will probably be aware of the Surgate experiment and the Karnak rebellion before anyone else is. 5 years later: Settles down for a bit, but he’s pretty much become Dorgan 2.0 (like Dorgan, Butz is also the only actual commoner in the group). As the Light Warriors learn to become more attuned to their elements, Butz learns to use the wind to run faster, pick up scents/sounds in the air from further away than normal, and can control it to an extent. 

Lenna Charlotte Tycoon -- Lost her sister at around 4 years old, and her mother in her teens. She deeply regrets losing her mother, which probably why she took the rebuke for her actions towards the last remaining sky dragon to heart and ended up twisting it into a hell of a self-sacrificial streak. Her father seems to have become more protective of her after losing Sarisa, and evidently must have raised her to assume rule of Tycoon, because ja.wiki says she’s familiar with military sciences. Fic-wise, 3 years after: Lenna is kind and self-sacrificing to a fault, but also feels responsible for the well-being of her people. This will lead to a conflict of sympathies for the Surgate experiment and the Karnak rebellion, and interests in maintaining Tycoon as a stable, wealthy monarchy. 5 years after: As Lenna is ultimately a sweet, caring person, she agrees to a ceremonial role (cf. Japanese monarchy), though her experience with governing comes in handy, too. The Water Crystal amplifies her healing magic, and gives her the ability to purify polluted water and sense other sources of water. She can control it, a bit, but certainly not to waterbender levels. Her dragon choosing Faris’ as a mate does lead to a bit of a scandal, but they’re just big animals and it doesn’t really mean anything, right?   

Faris Scherwiz/Sarisa Scherwil Tycoon -- Firstborn daughter of Alexander Highwind Tycoon and was probably meant to be queen; Alexander apparently made a practice of taking his daughter along with him. Fell overboard during a storm when she was 5 years old and was rescued and probably adopted by a pirate. When she was 15, her ship was trapped in a whirlpool generated by a sea dragon. She jumped in after it, befriended the dragon, and earned captaincy of the ship and crew. The Japanese texts imply that she was the youngest pirate captain ever, and that she heads “several hundred” pirates. Fiercely protective of Lenna, to the point where she had very nearly fallen to her death in the effort to rescue Lenna. While her manner of speech is rough (in Japanese, she uses ore as her first person address and is often abrupt and commanding in her wording), she softens it for Lenna. But, as much as she cares for Lenna, she’s also loyal to her crew and willingly abandons royalty for them. Fic-wise, 3 years later: In an effort to keep Faris close, Lenna relieves her of any princess-type duties/dress standards and grants her command of Tycoon’s military. It’s not a great fit--Faris has all the ruthlessness of a pirate captain, and that often clashes with long-time commanders who believe she’s an interloper. Faris, having been raised a pirate and likely well aware of the reasons people go into piracy, is probably the most sympathetic of the Light Warriors to the Surgate experiment and Karnak rebels. Ultimately, she’s the one who finally sways Lenna towards going with the winds of change rather than resisting them. 5 years later: Faris’ blood always ran a bit warmer than others, and moreso once she’s attuned to the Fire Crystal. Maybe not entirely literally, but she does develop a higher resistance to extreme weather. Also develops a tolerance to exposure to fire and the ability to control it, somewhat. Her dragon, one of two eggs gifted to Tycoon by Krile, is a bit more silver than other dragons and she wonders sometimes if he is Syldra reincarnated.    

Galuf Halm Baldesion -- Given how unsuited he feels for the role of king of Bal, Galuf likely hadn’t been in line for the throne until ExDeath’s war 30 years before. He may have come to power after other candidates for the throne died, or because of his Dawn Warrior status. Either way, he’s been doing pretty well for an old man by the time the game present rolls around. RIP, gramps. 

Krile Mayer Baldesion -- Shortly after her birth, Krile’s parents went on an expedition to the Groceana desert to find other sky dragons and disappeared. She was raised by her grandfather. Can talk to animals and is able to sense the supernatural, though it’s uncertain if this is exclusive to her or if either of her parents could do it, too. Assumes Galuf’s position both on the throne and in the party when Galuf dies. Fic-wise, 3 years later: Krile being the youngest and most spiritually sensitive of the Light Warriors means that she’s the first to figure out that they’re still connected to their Crystals. She would much rather develop her bond to the Earth Crystal and work as ambassador to non-human races than deal with the politics of her role as queen of Bal. The debate over Bal’s territory overlapping Jacole and the Nazalea Islands is a bitter one for her advisers and nobles (primarily because of resource and Bal claiming descent from Lonka... which Jacole and the Nazalea Islands also claim), but she really wants nothing to do with it. She practically leaps on the Surgate experiment because it’s her way out of this mess she inherited. As the one most attuned to her Crystal, Krile is able to increase a field’s fertility, walk any terrain with ease (ex: can walk atop a bog without sinking, never has to worry about quicksand, so on), is able to sense disruptions in the grounds where there might be ruins or caves, and can develop a sense of different kinds of ore deposits. 5 years later: Turns out that a proper transition is slow work, and her nobles grumble over it. She abdicates entirely--Bal suffered hard during both of ExDeath’s wars and Krile believes it’s better that the nation take this low point in its history as an opportunity for a much-needed change. She later gets involved in the excavation of Lonkan ruins. 

Geography

NB: a bunch of assumptions are made and the bulk of the geopolitics/who claims what are fic-related, so take this with a grain of salt.

Western Continent:

North: Istory is independent; Karnak governs the rest (both 1st world).

Central: Moore (far west, 2nd world, independent township due to vast forest between it and Surgate), Quelb (technically independent before ExDeath’s war 30 years before, became a protectorate of Bal afterwards, became independent again after the worlds merged), Surgate (2nd), Ancient Library (1st; originally Karnak claimed territory from Karnak to Jacole, but ExDeath happened and Queen Karnak was forced to cede less-populated territory to Bal). With the death of Zezae, Surgate is without a clear line of succession and becomes ground 0 for an experiment in shifting government from monarchy to democracy.

South: Bal (2nd world), Jacole and the Gohn ruins (1st world). Historically, the Lonkan empire spanned much of this territory and stretched into the Nazalea Islands. Just how much of it was ruled by Lonka is unknown. 

Eastern Continent, split into Tycoon and Walse territories along the land bridge and canal:

West: Tule (1st world, Tycoon protectorate), Tycoon (1st world), Lix (1st world, independent), Regole (2nd world, independent), ExDeath’s Castle (2nd world), Kuzar Castle (2nd, uninhabited but for monsters, existed pre-split)

East: Walse (1st world), Carwen (1st, Walse protectorate), Groceana Desert/Moogle village (2nd world)

Nazalea Island chain, largely independent, though the presence of Lonkan tech suggests that the Lonkan Empire extended as far as Crescent.

Mirage (2nd world, frozen until worlds are merged)

Crescent Island (1st world)

Mind, this is just a draft and almost entirely from memorized data. Mostly I just wanted to have something here in case I don’t get to actually writing it all out immediately ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ardett]

Hypermnesia

Description: The five times Keith forgot and the one time he didn't. (Or a 5+1 fic based around reincarnation and AUs.)

Made for the Sheith Flower Exchange on Twitter with Nekumei as my recipient. My prompt flowers were the white lily (purity, sweetness), the syringa (memory), and the pink carnation ("I will never forget you").

Dear Nekumei, I took a lot of liberties. (But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.) Sincerly, Ardett

Also, thanks to the-rf-gay for beta-ing this story :)

Check it out on Ao3

1. don’t forget

The marble floor is warm beneath Keith’s bare feet. The sun is only an hour past risen but its rays heat the whole palace. The light sparks off the gold filigrees that line the towering columns and are inlaid in the floor. The air slides smoothly down his throat, the swirl of dry desert air from the south side of the palace mixing in with the humid air that drifts in from the river and weaves through the north half of the kingdom.

The whole palace is designed to be open air and like all the other inhabitants in these marble walls, Keith has always been encouraged to take advantage of this. His feet leave his bedroom floor in favor of the window sill. The sun beats down on his skin, but the sunlight is already set so deep in Keith’s skin that it radiates in his bones. Unlike their fairer cousins in the kingdoms of ice, the sun has never hurt the people of the Land of Flame, never burned them.

Keith glances back into his room for only a second, eyes catching on the gold leaf crown and royal crest embedded in the floor. It is the only crown of any sort in his room. It’s beautiful in its design and craftsmanship: all shining metal and delicate diamonds sprawling through the veins of warm stone. But it is nothing compared to the true mark of royalty in the Land of Flame.

Keith shifts to the end of the window sill. Grabbing ahold of the wall, he swings his feet up to notch into the heated stone. The near scorching heat of the wall only sinks into his palms, absorbed into his marrow. His nails glint as he climbs, their pure gold warming his skin. It’s with the practiced ease of years that Keith hoists himself onto the roof.

He gazes out at the lands. To the south, there is a sea of red and gold sand. It’s where their riches come from. There’s no need to mine gold when it’s right there, blowing in the wind with flecks of scarlet. To the north winds the life blood of the kingdom, a vast river that feeds their farmlands.

Keith lies on his back, looking up at the sun. He’s heard that here in the Land of Flame they are closer to the sun than any other place. But he has never been anywhere else, so he cannot know.

Shiro would know.

Keith's heart aches for him. It reminds him why he came up to the roof so early today. He shifts to dangle his legs over the edge of marble, watching and waiting for Shiro's caravan to arrive.

His shadow has shifted five inches beneath the sun when he sees the first trace of fluttering blue fabric coming from the West. His breath catches in his throat and he whirls off the roof, climbing back down to his room. He throws on the proper clothes, the light silks flowing between his legs as he runs down the palace stairs.

“Prince Keith,” the guard at the front door addresses him. “The envoy from the Ice Kingdom has arrived.”

“I know.” Keith answers breathlessly as he slips outside. “Let my father know?” The guard nods but Keith only has eyes for Shiro.

“Shiro!” Keith throws himself into Shiro's arms. The envoy's skin is cold that doesn't matter as Shiro returns the embrace.

“I told you I'd be back, didn't I?” Shiro laughs as they finally release each other.

“What took you so long?”

“Just a little sickness when I got back home; nothing serious. Besides, I was only gone a couple of weeks.”

By now, Keith's​ father has made his way outside. Though court meetings are usually conducted outside under the watchful eye of the sun, in deference to the Ice Kingdom’s citizens, they move inside to discuss the imminent plans of alliance and the arrival of the Ice Kingdom's queen and prince. The conference is short, since the real decisions will be made once the other royalty arrives. Shiro is only here as an envoy, a precursor to his rulers.

But he is here all the same. Keith does not waste these days they get to spend together.

The first day, they just sit on the roof and talk. Shiro tells Keith more of the Ice Kingdom, where all the light is fractured through the skyscrapers of ice that ark over the city. Keith looks at the sun hanging over the Land of Flame. He would miss it, he thinks, if all he ever got its diluted rays.

How do you do that? Shiro asks.

Do what?

You look directly at sun. In the city, we say that to look directly at the sun is to be blinded. Keith just shrugs but he’s acutely aware of yet another difference between them. The pale eyes of the Ice Kingdom stare back into Keith’s own dark irises.

Keith tells Shiro stories of his childhood, the days he spent learning how to harvest gold from the sands with his citizens, strengthening himself by swimming upstream, the first time he climbed up to the highest part of the palace with his father.

On the second day, Keith takes Shiro to see all these things first hand.

On the third day, the last day before the Ice Kingdom’s royalty arrives, Keith and Shiro wake up early. They watch the sun rise over the glistening golden sands, sitting on the window’s ledge. Keith looks down at their intertwined hands, his nails that grow in pure gold and Shiro’s fingers that are always cold.

“Shiro…” Keith swallows. For the first time, the air sticks dry in his throat. “Can I paint your nails gold?”

Shiro blinks and Keith thinks that if Shiro refuses him, he will be more than crushed. He will be devastated. People in the Land of Flame only ever fall in love once. He can’t imagine losing Shiro.

Shiro nods. “Yeah, if you want to.”

Keith’s face lights up and he leans over to kiss Shiro. “Thank you. I love you.”

Shiro’s smile falters for a second before he whispers back a little sadly, “I love you too.”

Shiro holds out his hand next to Keith’s, his painted nails shimmering next to the ones Keith was born with. They both wear the mark of royalty now.

Lance and Allura, the ice prince and queen, are in the throne room when Shiro and Keith make their way downstairs. The queen steps up to greet Keith with a firm handshake. They all gather at the table, and Shiro sits next to Keith with a gesture from the flame prince. Queen Allura begins, “As you know, we’re here to discuss an alliance between our people. Something mutually beneficial, it would open up trade and communication between our countries. Our ancestors may have preferred their isolation, but our world is growing. We must grow with it.”

Keith’s father nods. “Yes. I believe the way your culture solidifies union is through marriage.”

“That is correct.” Allura’s eyes flicker to Keith for a moment. Shiro tucks his hands under the table. Keith wonders if Shiro feels out of place seated with all the other royalty, but surely he must know- “Lance is willing to marry into the line of the Land of Flame. Would Prince Keith consider his proposal?”

“What?” The ice prince flinches at Keith’s abrupt interjection.

“Do you not find same sex marriage suitable in your culture?” Allura asks.

The king’s brow furrows. “Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. My son is already betrothed.”

Shiro stiffens next to Keith, every line in his body going rigid.

“Shiro?” Keith whispers nervously.

Shiro doesn’t even look at him. “You’ve been betrothed this whole time? And we’ve- I knew it would end eventually when you had to marry into royalty, but I at least thought that all the time we spent together was… was real.” Shiro finally turns to him, hurt echoing in his eyes before he closes them. “I’m- I’m sorry. It’s not my place to speak to you like this.”

“I don’t understand.” Keith says quietly. He can barely hear his own voice.

“I shouldn’t be sitting here next to you. I- I forgot myself.” Shiro moves to push himself away from the table and Keith’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist.

“Wait! I- I don’t understand; you accepted my proposal. I thought-”

“What?”

“I-” Keith swallows, eyes darting to his father for a second but the king seems just as lost as Keith. Keith lowers his voice because even though they’re before a crowd, this feels like something private. “I asked to paint your nails gold, Shiro. You know that our royalty has gold nails. I was asking you to marry into my line, to become royalty. I was asking you to marry me.”

“What? I- I can’t-” Shiro looks frantic. “You’re meant to marry Lance, I can’t-”

“I don’t see why I can’t marry you. I’d still be marrying into the Ice Kingdom.”

“I’m an envoy, Keith. I’m sorry. I know you see things differently here but that’s not how we do things in the Ice Kingdom.” Shiro turns to the queen and Keith’s heart cracks, painful and jagged. “Queen Allura, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I meant no disrespect. You have to understand, things are conducted differently here in the Land of Flame. If anyone is to blame, it is me. I should have been more educated on their culture. Please forgive me.”

The subservience that seeps into Shiro’s tone sickens Keith. Shiro’s right. They do indeed do things differently here. No citizens of the Land of Flame, envoy or otherwise, would ever sink so low.

“I don’t blame you, Shiro.” Allura folds her hands over her lap diplomatically. “But Prince Keith, you must understand: our people would only accept an alliance between royalty. The union of you and my brother is the most viable option.”

All the air feels like it’s been sucked out of Keith’s lungs. Keith’s father seems equally unsettled as he says, “If your envoy is the champion of my son’s heart, then they should be together. Perhaps you do things differently in the Ice Kingdom, but here in the Land of Flame, we only bond once.”

Allura appears sympathetic but she doesn’t respond. Keith says he’ll think about it.

(A champion, the champion of his heart?)

(don’t forget)

Two days later, Prince Lance is sick.

It’s sudden and violent. Keith’s father calls in a doctor but it seems like there’s nothing amiss, certainly not something that could cause such a reaction. They test Keith too, since he’s the closest in age and body type, but their scans come back exactly the same. Only Lance is sick and Keith is not.

A doctor from the Ice Kingdom makes the journey between their countries in one day. He spends an hour looking over Lance, looking over the scans, before he comes back with the results.

Radiation poisoning.

Lance has it. Keith has it. Keith’s father has it.

Every citizen they test in the Land of Flame has it.

In a brief fit of consciousness, Lance mutters about how they have no elderly here. Allura asks how long the average lifespan is in the Land of Flame. She tells them people in the Ice Kingdom live well into their nineties. She has to ask twice before Keith whispers that the healthiest of them live to fifty.

It’s the sun. Like Shiro had said, they’re closer to the sun here. Closer to the ultraviolet rays, the solar radiation. Evidently, closer to death. The warmth in Keith’s bones, the piece of stolen sun in his marrow, is radiation and it’s killing him.

Shiro tells him he could come to the Ice Kingdom but Keith tells him no. He’d rather live a short and free life, where he can visit his people and climb to the roof and walk through the palace barefoot, than a long one under someone else’s rule. It’s a good life here, he tells Shiro. It’s worth it, he tries to say.

Allura looks out the window almost as if she can see Keith’s people dying. She says that if Shiro decides to stay with Keith, she will consider that an alliance between their people.

Keith whispers, Don’t stay just for this. Don’t marry me for this.

And Shiro whispers back against his lips, I’m not.

Allura and Lance leave the next day.

Shiro and Keith are married two months later.

The Land of Flame prospers under the Keith and Shiro’s rule. Trade with the Ice Kingdom accelerates both of their technologies. Knowledge and commerce flow constantly between the two countries. Some citizens move to the Ice Kingdom. Some move to the Land of Flame. People say it’s worth it either way. And yes, Keith thinks, it is.

Shiro and Keith live well and happily into their sixties.

2. Don’t forget

Keith’s soulmarks are almost always covered. Covering the first one makes sense. It's a white lily with delicate petals that bloom from his shoulder, so often hidden under shirt sleeves and jackets. The lily’s stem winds down his arm in careful curls to the second flower, a pink carnation that spreads from the back of his hand to his knuckles. It is the reason Keith always wears gloves.

When Keith was twenty, he still hadn't found his soulmate. That was okay, many people he knew hadn't either. When Keith was twenty, his soulmark changed. Its colors faded back into his flesh, a pale imitation of what it once was. The lily kept most of its vibrance, pure and white, but the carnation… It was a ghost of its former self.

He tries not to look at his hand most days. It’s just a painful reminder of what he could have loved, what he did lose. He did his research, he knows what it means.

People's marks fade when their soulmate dies.

(It’s peculiar though. Right in the middle of his upper arm, the color bleeds back into the stems, no longer faded. How odd, how very odd.)

Keith meets Shiro in his physics lab, after the teacher rotates seats in the class and Keith is forced to move to the front of the room. Keith runs on a lot of intuition, which is good for the conceptual topics, but the hard numbers are killing him. It starts casually, with Shiro just pointing out a formula to him or writing in an extra zero on his paper. Then they start working together as lab partners and texting to discuss the homework. Then texting about topics unrelated to homework.

Keith wonders who Shiro’s soulmate is.

Keith had checked Shiro’s hand for a mark automatically, despite knowing his soulmate wasn’t out there at all, certainly wasn’t in his college physics class. No, his soulmate is…

He didn’t see any soul mark, pink carnation or otherwise, only a prosthetic limb and gold painted nails. Shiro had lost his arm at war when he was eighteen and was honorably discharged soon after. Shiro painted his nails because he liked to.

The first time Shiro invites Keith to his house, he paints Keith’s nails gold as well. They match for a good three days before the polish begins to chip.

(His nails have been gold before. Painted gold? No…)

(don’t forget, Don’t forget)

The second time Keith goes to Shiro’s house, it’s for a sleepover with some of Shiro’s other friends. It’s really nice, actually. Pidge is wicked smart and hilarious. Hunk seems good natured and Lance, well, Hunk seems to temper him down but not by much. Lance is intentionally aggravational and confrontational in a way that always seems to make Keith’s hackles rise.

The hours tick by into dark lateness. Dinner passed hours ago, but with free reign over the house, they’ve gotten into the candy stores and gorged themselves. Keith can still feel the sugar buzzing in his veins. He knows the sugar crash is going to hit him hard.

“Hey, so what are your guys’ soulmarks?” Lance grins, hanging on Hunk’s shoulder.

“You already know.” Pidge protests, blinking drowsily.

“Not everyone's!”

“You mean not Keith’s.” Pidge yawns.

There’s a nervous thrum in Keith’s body, dulled, like everything, by the sugar.

“Well, we can all share. Come on, it’ll be like, a bonding thing.”

Keith fiddles with his glove and shakes his head.

Lance opens his mouth and Shiro says, “Lance. Don’t be rude.” Shiro turns to Keith. “There’s no pressure. I know it’s something personal. But you… you don’t have to be ashamed of your mark. Everyone’s is different.”

“Yeah!” Lance interjects. “Me and Hunk’s are on the top of our feet! What a weird place, am I right? Do you know how awkward it is to inconspicuously check out people’s feet? Some of my other partners thought I had a fetish-”

“Woah, we don’t want to know!” cries Pidge. “I don’t even have one, so I really don’t want to know about your relationship escapades, seriously!”

Keith smiles a little at that, before nerves get the better of him and the grin fades. Fades like…

The elastic of his glove snaps against the inside of his wrist.

Shiro goes next, shrugging off the blanket he had had wrapped around his shoulders. “I lost part of my mark with my arm. I used to have a pink carnation on my hand. My mother used to tell me that a pink carnation means I will never forget you, so I thought it might mean… my soulmate had forgotten me. Moved on. I wouldn’t blame them for not seeking out a broken man.” Keith’s nails are digging into his knees, ten pin pricks of pain. He doesn’t even notice. “I still have this part though.” Shiro pulls up his sleeve to show a white lily, just above where the metal melds into his skin. “The stem used to connect to the carnation before… Well, you know. Keith, are you alright?”

Keith looks down at his knees. There’s trickle of red where he’s drawn blood. He thinks about relaxing his muscles, letting go, but his hands spasm and his nails dig in deeper.

“Keith! Keith, stop!” Shiro grabs his hands, pulling them away from Keith’s flesh. There’s blood under his fingernails but Keith doesn’t care. He looks up at Shiro.

“I… I thought you were dead.”

“What?”

Keith’s vision blurs. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead because my mark- my mark faded.” Keith claws at his glove. It takes him a few tries as his coordination slips and stutters but finally, it’s off. And there it is. The pink carnation. “I didn’t forget. I didn’t know I should still be looking. But I never forgot.”

Shiro stares at the flower. Slowly, he reaches out, tracing the flower and up the stem, pushing up Keith’s sleeve to see the matching white lily.

“I never forgot you either.”

The first date Shiro takes Keith out on is to the botanical gardens. The air is warm that day, full of wished-on dandelion seeds and buzzing bugs. Behind a shaded hedge bush, they steal their first kiss. It tastes like summer and pollen.

Their love is pure and lasting as their white lilies, sweet as a flower’s nectar, ever changing and ever growing as spring itself. It is unforgettable.

3. Don’t Forget

They keep Keith in a pool of white lilies. The flowers are beautiful, yes, but they’re not there for Keith to think they’re beautiful. The lilies are there to make Keith more beautiful.

They say it matches his pale human skin. They say is contrasts beautifully with his sealskin.

Sometimes they make him shift back and forth until both skins feel unfamiliar on his body. Sometimes they fill the area with water so he has to stay in his seal form or risk drowning. Sometimes they force him back into his human shape and take his sealskin away.

The legends say that if you take the skin of a selkie, they have to marry you. Keith doesn’t know if that’s true but he does know that after a few days, he would do anything, anything, to get his sealskin back. The separation feels like someone is plucking out his heartstrings one by one.

He remembers the ocean in his deepest memories. The saltwater, the filtered light, the endless expanse.

He doesn’t remember how he became this, an attraction for humans to see a selkie in the flesh, to watch the feat of him changing over and over again like it doesn’t hurt. They try to keep him happy, to placate him with the white lilies that he used to love so dearly, but every day aches a little more.

There’s a face in the crowd. It does not look at him like others. In fact, it does not look at him at all.

Someone’s holding his sealskin and he feels more than hears them compel him to grab one of the flowers. He does, putting it behind his ear in the way he knows they like it. Camera flashes bounce off the glass.

In that moment of reflected light, it is only Keith and the water and the lilies. When the glare fades, the face in the crowd is gone.

Keith glances to where he saw the face in the crowd had been looking.

He could have sworn the man was studying the lock on Keith’s door.

A week passes. Lately, they’ve been changing the color of the water in Keith’s pool. He thinks they’re trying to make it imitate the blue-green of the sea, but nothing makes up for the kind of deep color in the darkest ocean depths. Keith hasn’t seen the man again. (He misses him. Something about him reminds Keith of… someone.)

The stars are out tonight. Above him, the stars of Pisces shine bright. He arranges the flowers in the water in the same shape, white lilies in the guise of stars, thinking of the days he used to look up from the ocean and see the same fish in the sky.

(White lilies... White lilies used to mean something to him. What was it?)

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget)

Something behind him clicks.

Keith whips around, sealskin sliding off his human flesh so he can more easily defend himself. A streak of white hair catches the moonlight a second before Keith makes out the rest of the man’s face. Keith’s breath catches in his throat, a throb in his gills. It is the man from before, who had looked at Keith from behind the glass.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”

There is something familiar about the man, in his voice, the scar along his nose, that streak of white in his black fur. (Fur?)

He grabs Keith’s hand and drags him away from that pathetic pool. They leave the stagnant water and sticky petals behind.

They dash out of the building, weaving down dirt paths and past other exhibits before finally passing through the last metal gate. Keith throws a glance behind them as they leave that horrid place, reading the letters on the top of the gate: Zoo.

He swallows the sick in his stomach and concentrates on running.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to come for you, Keith. I had to wait till Pisces was in the sky or I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold my human form. I tried to make sure there were people who could watch over you, but I know humans can be so cruel without even realizing it. They put you in a cage-”

“I- I know you?” Keith stumbles a bit, shaky on his human legs. His enclosure was always a little too small.

“Not in this form. I thought you might not recognize me, especially since it’s been so long-”

“How long?” The ground turns soft under his bare feet. It’s sand under his toes. “How long was I gone?”

He can taste the brine in the air and there- just over the sanddune- a glimpse of white foam. How close had he been all this time? Just a little more than a mile away from the ocean?

“A little under a year. They took you right as Pisces left the sky; none of us could come for you until now. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay.” Keith says breathlessly. He can feel the freedom on his skin in the ocean spray and the grains of sand. “You came for me.”

Their feet hit the water and Keith dives in. His sealskin flows easily back onto his body as he races through the waves. He twists and behind him, the outline of another selkie sharpens into clarity.

Everything falls into place. The voice, the scar, the fur. Of course it would be Shiro to come for him.

Keith whispers his name and Shiro nuzzles their noses together. The gesture, so familiar and loving, brings tears to Keith’s eyes. But the drops of saltwater are lost among all the rest that surround them.

They swim off to oceans far away from here, where the water is full of crystal and ice, where the tropical fish create a rainbow under the sea, where the depths are as black as ink and where they’re as blue as the summer sky. They travel with freedom; they travel with love. Now and forever, they travel the world together.

4. DON’T FORGET

There is celebration tonight. In the fire nation, any celebration is always glorious. Non-benders can participate with fireworks or sparklers and every firebender there lends their flame to the sky. There are individual displays of might: manmade starbursts trying to reach their brethren, intricate swirls kept alight in feats of endurance, and unique and dazzling colors that stand out against the orange and yellow backdrop.

But the greatest moment of the night is when every citizen calls forth a fire and aims for the moon. It takes concentration and awareness to achieve, but this year, just like all the ones before, Keith watches all their flames meld together into a monstrous dragon.

It hangs in the air, frozen, and then Keith feels the tug in his gut as the dragon begins to leap and dance in the sky. Shiro grins at Keith, the flickering fire reflected in his eyes, and in this moment, Shiro is not the Avatar with the whole world hunting him, he is only Shiro who is in Keith’s home and who is here to celebrate and revel and who is here to love Keith back.

Their hands are both aflame when they link fingers and with the roaring dragon, they dance.

The celebration is to honor the last rising sun before Pisces comes to the night sky. Before firebenders’ powers diminish and dwindle like so many dying stars.

This month, under the the scales of Pisces, Shiro is learning waterbending. Keith follows Shiro to the Water Tribe, his bending too weak right now to seem threat enough for the tribe members to ban him.

During the days, he watches Shiro sway with the tides and sooth with the water. During the nights, he looks on as Shiro charts the waxing and waning of the moon. There are secrets kept within the tribe that Keith is not privy to. During these times, Keith spars with the tribe members. It’s rough, especially when the waterbenders play dirty, making the floor slick beneath his feet and dashing water in his eyes. It’s worth it when Shiro learns how to heal, smoothing the water along Keith’s skin and washing away his bruises.

It has always been a risk for Keith to travel with Shiro. Shiro is the Avatar, revered as a bringer of peace no matter what element he wields. Keith is a firebender, from a nation that many still viewed bitterly; who many wished to wipe off the map. He should have known that going with Shiro, even as his lover, even under the protection of the Avatar, was asking for trouble.

Under Pisces, he is the weakest. So when rogue waterbenders rip him from his bed, claw him out of the sheets, shove him out into the snow and cover his mouth and nose with a bubble of water, he can’t summon so much as a spark to defend himself. He feels the feeble flames die in the icy wind as his fingertips strain for anything, anything. They brush over a rock but the bitter cold is draining him and he hasn’t taken a breath in… in…

His hands go to his mouth but they slide right through the water and he’s drowning, he’s drowning. He thinks he might be crying, terror calling up tears in his eyes, but the saltwater only feeds the waterbenders. He chokes as his chest seizes. Something burns down his throat and he passes out.

“You don’t deserve him.”

“He’s the Avatar. You’re nothing.”

“No firebender should ever touch the Avatar.”

“You’re so weak, as if you could compare to him.”

Keith can feel Pisces’s laughter in the sky, mocking his weak and shivering body.

(Under Pisces, Shiro came for him once. Was he once strong under Pisces?)

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET)

Shiro will come for him. Shiro has always come for him.

“The Avatar left for the Earth Kingdom.”

“Didn’t even look for you.”

“Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“He’s better off without you.”

Where is Shiro? It’s so cold. Too cold to think, too cold to breath. No, Shiro wouldn’t have left him behind. They weren’t supposed to leave for the Earth Kingdom for another two days. How long has it been? Where is Shiro?

Pisces falls away from the night sky, but Keith has been too cold for too long. He curls up under a layer of flame, the only thing he’s capable of now, but still, he shakes.

Someone is screaming.

Keith shakes with the cold.

Someone is screaming.

A whip of water curls around his ankle and yanks him from his corner. Keith’s fire goes out.

Someone is screaming.

His captors are saying something about hiding Keith where he cannot be found, sealing him in the ice. Keith is shaking. It is not from the cold.

Someone is screaming. What are they saying?

“WHERE IS HE?”

Keith knows that voice. Desperately, he sends out a blast of fire, his palm flashing with warmth before he’s dragged back to his knees.

I am here.

The ground trembles. Water churns. The wind roars. But it is fire that surrounds Shiro as he descends from the sky, vengeful as death.

His eyes glow blue as he waves a hand and the elements themselves rise to his beck and call. They rush past Keith, a wave of brutal air and dirt and water and flame, sweeping his captors far away from here.

The blue in Shiro’s eyes dims as he falls to his knees besides Keith, a hand going searchingly to Keith’s face. The cool touch of healing flows from Keith’s cheekbone to the rest of his body. Keith throws his arms around Shiro, burying his face in the other’s neck. He is afraid to cry, afraid to give the waterbenders more ammunition against him.

“I thought you left. Shiro-”

“I will never leave you behind. I don’t care where we are. I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what they offer me. You mean more to me than all of this, Keith. Never forget that.”

The space between them warms. Keith’s shivers subside. “I won’t forget,” he murmurs.

Shiro trains to become the Avatar. Keith stays by his side.

There are many wonders in this world. He’s seen people who can fly along the breeze, change the ebb of the ocean tides, call forth mountains from molehills, swallow flames. He has seen villages of ice and homes among the clouds. The greatest wonder he’s seen hasn’t been the boy who can control all these elements, whose eyes glow blue with power, who has a place among each nation.

No. The greatest wonder of all is getting to wake up each morning next to the man he loves. No matter what’s out the window- volcano peaks or stormy skies- he looks into Shiro’s eyes and knows he is home.

5. DON’T FORGET

In the window of the spaceship, Keith sees his reflection. His eyes shine in the dim light, yellow as starfruit. His skin, usually a deep royal purple, is washed out to lavender. He’s been on this ship for too long without real sunlight on his skin. The only part of him that retains his previous color is the dark circles under his eyes, the contrast sharp against his pure yellow pupils.

An alarm blares. Other Galra begin to flood the halls. Keith’s claws graze his dagger before he follows.

Today they were scheduled to drain another planet of quintessence. Keith saw it beyond the glass for only a moment, when he was on the planet side of the ship. It was a beauty, thrumming with life beneath it’s jeweled mountains and diamond oceans. Most of the organisms there are composed of living crystal. The whole planet dazzles, even from this far out in space.

Yesterday, while Keith had been assigned as a guard in the throne room, he had heard Zarkon discussing its destruction. He had kept his face straight, only tightened his grip on the spear he was holding and dug his canines into his cheek.

As soon as he had been released from duty, he ran to the communication ports. With trembling hands, he had frantically contacted the Blade of Marmora, begging them to send help.

(He knows the empire has done it before. Destroyed entire planets. But he has only ever witnessed the aftermath. He has never seen the life before it’s going to be stolen away.)

He had only been able to give the Blade one day’s warning. He knew it wasn’t enough time. He knows he will watch the quintessence drain out of this planet life by life.

His communication port rings. He fumbles with it before the hologram flickers into being.

An Altean stares back at him. (There’s a split second where Keith feels like he must hide his Galra face, before he considers that this Altean must have known he was contacting a Galra since the communication signal come through the Blade’s channel.)

The Altean is a male with a scar across his nose, the edges of it just touching the glowing blue of his Altean marks. Behind him are the inside workings of a battleship and hope flares in Keith’s chest.

(Was it the Altean marks that glowed blue or was it the eyes?)

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

“You have to get as far away from the weapon as you can.” The Altean starts gruffly.

Keith’s brow furrows. “You’re going to attack the quintessence weapon directly? That’s where all of our defenses are fortified, any battle fleets would be better off attacking-”

“There are no battle fleets. There’s only me. No one else is going to get there soon enough.”

“How-”

“We don’t have time. You gave us the information we needed to save this planet and we will. You need to get as far away from the weapon as possible.”

“I- Okay.” Keith gets up, switching to audio communication only as he paces out of his bedroom and towards the north side of the ship. “Are- are you still there?”

“I’m still here. You’re moving away from the weapon?”

“Yeah.” He could be imagining it but he thinks he hears relief in the Altean’s voice.

“Good,” the Altean sighs. “I don’t want there to be any more casualties than there has to be.”

“Don’t talk like that. No one has to die today. Zarkon’s not going to rule forever. That’s why we’re all fighting for the cause, isn’t it?”

The Altean is silent for a moment. “They, uh- The Blade told me your name is Keith.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Keith ducks into a dark hallway to let a sentry pass before hurrying on.

“My name’s Shiro. I just-” It sounds like Shiro chokes for a moment. Keith almost asks if he’s okay before Shiro is speaking again. “I want to say thank you. It’s nice to have someone to talk to before- Nevermind, just- thanks for staying on the line. Can you just… talk to me until it’s over?”

“Until what’s over? You’re not going to die!” Keith’s feet stall. His hand tightens on the communication port. Desperately, he looks down the southern corridor, as if he could see through it into space, into Shiro’s ship.

“It’s okay.” Sound crackles through the speaker, like Shiro is laughing. Or like Shiro is crying. “It’s just one life for a whole planet.”

Keith understands now. The Blade didn’t send him help. They sent him a suicide bomber.

“I’ll remember you, Shiro. You’re saving so many lives. You’re- you’re a hero.” Keith feels tears trickling down into his fur, but he swallows the sounds. (Guilt spears through his heart. He should be convincing Shiro to turn back, to live another day. But the Altean is right. One life for many. This is what Keith asked for. (Isn’t it?)) He concentrates on talking to Shiro. “Zarkon’s going to be defeated. We’re all going to be free one day. In this life or the next.”

“I think it’s going to have to be the next.” This time, it’s definitely a laugh. A strained one, a pained one, one that makes something in Keith’s chest twist.

“I’m sorry, Shiro. I’m so sorry.”

There are other noises coming through the speaker, whirring and screeching. He barely picks up Shiro’s whisper. “Tell me it’s worth it.”

“It’s worth it.”

The connection cuts out.

There’s a BOOM from the opposite end of the ship. Moments later, the walls shake around him. There are no flames but phantom heat blows down the hall, ruffling Keith’s hair. It dries the tears off his face.

There is no way for Keith to commemorate Shiro, no safe place for him to build shrine on Zarkon’s ship. There are only his memories. But everyday Keith remembers the Altean who sacrificed himself for a planet; the Altean who gave up his life for so many others. He believes it is enough.

+1 I Will Never Forget You

Lately, Keith hasn’t been all there. Something is throwing him off, just enough to make him feel unbalanced. He’s not sure anyone else has noticed yet.

It’s a nagging the back of his mind, like he’s forgotten something. His concentration is divided. It’s dangerous. He convinces himself that his hands can’t feel unsteady when he grabs his bayard. He can’t be the reason they can’t form Voltron. He can’t be the reason they lose a battle.

He tries to shake it from his mind. It keeps him up into the night, until dark circles haunt his eyes. He wants to tear himself apart just to find the piece of himself he’s forgotten.

He’s wanted to tear himself apart before, when he was a Galra working for Zarkon-

No, no, that’s not right. He’s only half Galra; he’s never worked for Zarkon.

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

Alone in his bedroom, Keith trembles. What is he forgetting?

The Blue Lion comes to life, as seen from the window of the Red Lion. Its panels glow neon blue with a surge of power. It distracts Keith, so much so that Lance’s well aimed blast hits Red right in the side. The whole craft rocks with the force and Keith has felt blown off his feet before, when the four elements roared around him-

No, the druids can’t control the elements. He’s never been in a fight with elemental magic.

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

Shiro’s voice echos through the comm, asking if Keith’s okay and if they should end training early. Keith shakes his head and grabs the controls.

Lance drinks out of Keith’s glass of water before promptly spitting it out into the sink. Expression appalled, he asks, “What the quiznak, Keith? Are you drinking saltwater?”

He’s lived in saltwater, why wouldn’t he-

No, he doesn’t. Humans don’t drink saltwater.

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

Keith rubs at his forehead, ignoring the other paladins concerned questions. He can already feel the saltwater making him nauseous. He wonders if it’s making him delirious as well.

They pass a tattoo parlor while getting supplies at a space mall. Pidge jokingly suggests they all get tattoos. Keith says he already has one.

They all look at him oddly. Hunk murmurs awkwardly, “Dude, we’ve seen you in the showers. I don’t think you have any.”

Keith looks down at his hand and blinks.

Of course he doesn’t have a tattoo. He never had the money on Earth and he certainly hasn’t gotten one since.

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

That night Keith dreams of crushed pink carnations. When he asks Pidge if they know anything about flower meanings, they tell him pink carnations mean I will never forget you. Keith thinks of mangled petals and broken stems and feels sick.

The light glances off Keith’s nails. They look gold in the sunlight.

Keith’s eyes go to the sky. There are no Galra battleships in sight, but still he wonders if he is going to die young again.

He doesn’t want to die young again, at least not until he’s told Shiro-

Told Shiro what?

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

Keith closes his eyes.

The Galra call Shiro the Champion. He is the Champion of the Arena.

He is the Champion of something else, something more important. What is it?

(don’t forget, Don’t forget, Don’t Forget, DON’T FORGET, DON’T FORGET)

Keith searches for it, shirt wrinkling over his heart as his hand grips the material tight. He looks down to where the fabric is bunched under his fingers.

He remembers.

“Shiro, I promised you I would remember you. In this life or another. And I will never forget you.”

“Tell me it was worth the wait.”

“It was worth the wait.”