#ch: no one commands the black lion

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 4

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/148517998#workskin

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3

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I'm moving.

Floating.

But, everything around me is still.

My senses, too.

Still numb.

Still cold.

Still blind.

Breathing is a chore. I struggle to expand my lungs. If I pause, I don't think I'll ever breathe again.

Too hard. Maybe I should just stop trying.

The darkness tempts.

The void.

But above me, a murder of crows cries out in the night.

Cawing. Clamoring. Shrieking.

After this battle, they should have plenty of corpses to feast on. So, why clamor? Why cry out to the moon in a bloodthirsty song?

Stupid birds.

How terribly annoying.

Just loud enough to keep me from sinking into nothingness.

A shadow looms nearby. I sense it. In the emptiness, it calls to me. And, I can't help but answer. I reach for it, but I can't see. I need to open my eyes. If I don't, then I can't find him.

I try.

I struggle, blinking against a haze of color and motion.

Something warm against my cheek. A voice is speaking. Deep. Rumbling. Like the purring of a lion.

The front of my body is hot while my back is freezing.

The voice keeps speaking, and I finally recognize it.

Sylus.

I try to call for him, but my lips are numb. My voice is thinner than air.

The warmth against my cheek moves to the top of my head. Sliding over my hair then resting beneath my chin. It's a familiar calloused hand. Fingers tip up my face.

Sylus's face swims into view. It's night, and it's dark; pitch black. Yet, his face is perfectly illuminated in the wan evening glow. A frightening and bewitching visage. His eyes blaze as they look down at me. Moonlight paints his hair a gleaming white; it shines as it frames his temples.

"Sylus," I croak out.

Just saying that one word takes everything out of me.

His expression is devoid of anything, yet the line of his mouth speaks of thinly veiled anger.

What was he doing here? Wasn't he returning to N109 for some dangerous errand? 

I feel like I'm floating again. The ground beneath me shifts. I smell gun oil mixed with LUMINIS. Realization grips me. I'm draped over someone's back.

"Get her out of here, Luke," Sylus commands without breaking our eye contact.

"Yes, Boss."

The LUMINIS burns my skin. It stings like biting acid, trapped between my front and Luke's back.

With a sudden gasp, I panic. Start to squirm.

"No," I whisper. "Don't...touch me."

"Whoa, lady, calm down would you?" Luke grumbles beneath me, his grip tightening on the backs of my legs. Pain slams into me with the force of a grenade. The more I move, the more it hurts. Everywhere. But, I persist. Doesn't he know? Doesn't he know the LUMINIS will kill him if it touches him?

I keep fighting against his hold. "Poison..." I choke out. "It'll get on you..."

"Ellara."

Just my name. Said in a tone that brooks no disobedience. A threat and a command all in one. From Sylus, it's a decree. I stop moving. I've only heard him say my name a handful of times. I turn my head to look at him; the angry line of his mouth persists. His eyes demand my compliance, and I don't have it in me to resist. My body goes limp.

Sylus steps back, one hand resting in his pocket. Black and crimson gathers around him like a cloud of malice and fury. His eyes soften, just for a moment. "Luke and Kieran will take you somewhere safe. Wait for me."

I close my eyes. Keeping them open is just too hard.

"Hang on tight, lady," Luke says from somewhere very very far away.

"She can't, Luke," Kieran chides. "Her shoulder's busted."

Movement again as Luke shifts his weight between his feet. Then he jumps, and the world dips and sways. The motion is somehow comforting. Perhaps I should be scared of these two men. I've seen their ruthlessness first hand. But, Sylus trusts them with my life, and that's good enough for me.

"You staying somewhere close by, Lady?" Luke asks.

"Boss said not to go to the hotel," Kieran cuts in. "Need to stop the bleeding or he'll have our hides."

"The Tub then?" Luke offers.

"Good thinking."

From there, I lose track of the conversation. They chatter about some nonsense I can't understand. Something tickles right under my nose and the back of my throat. I cough and taste blood. Looks like the LUMINIS is running through my system.

"Oi, Lady," Kieran pats my cheek. "What's going on with you?"

"Poison," I mumble, nearing delirium. "Wash...off..."

"Definitely the Tub, then," Luke says beneath me.

It's the last thing I hear for a while. 

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With the freezing winds comes the first snow of the year. It comes down hard and fast, blanketing the veranda in white and giving the scene an interesting kind of contrast. 

Sylus watches Luke and Kieran disappear into the shadows of the night with forced dispassion. He's leaving something precious to him with a pair of mentally unstable murderers. Yet, aside from at his own side, there is no safer place for Ellara now. 

Particularly now that Noxis has found her.

With the twins, she is in good hands. His masked monsters are heartless, and in that savagery lies unwavering loyalty. Beasts can only be controlled by fear of something stronger than them. In knowing that there exists no greater power than his own, Luke and Kieran choose to serve Sylus as their leader. They are well aware of the resources at his command, and they will do what they must to ensure the woman survives until their master can return.

Pondering over it now serves no purpose, so he releases all concern for her wellbeing.

There is business to be concluded here tonight, a pathetic little rebellion he should have squashed months ago.

As the snow covers everything around him, Sylus's true hunt begins. He turns on his heel, his crimson eyes aglow with bloodlust, a crooked smile gracing his striking features. With both hands in his pockets, he strides across the veranda, stepping over mangled bodies to move to a group of huddled men moaning and crying as they cower in terror. A pitch black mist surrounds them, holding them captive.

Above, Mephisto's greedy crows cry out to feast, their hunger insatiable.

Blood splats and spatters around Sylus's shoes as he takes each step, mixing into a red slush as he walks. And with each stride, more and more black mist gathers around him. Like a snake, it rises up and strikes, wrapping phantom claws and hands around one of the men and lifting him into the air. The man screams in abject horror, foaming at the mouth when the mist begins to break and snap his fingers one by one. The same filthy fingers that hit a certain Hunter in the head with a club.

An eye for an eye.

Now if only Ellara could grasp the concept.

Had she aimed for vitals with her shots, this night might have ended altogether differently. She'd always been too soft. Too merciful. Even then.

Glancing down at the others, his expression is one of disinterest. He's used to cowards shaking and begging before him. Why are humans always so predictable?

"I have some questions," he says. "Answers will be rewarded with less pain." The man in the grasp of the mist begs for his life, but his sputtering is not the response Sylus needs. When the coward is used up, he throws his lifeless body aside and moves to the next.  "Who will volunteer?"

"Help us!" the second man shrieks as the mist drags him backwards by his ankles. "Malakai! Please help us!"

The wind picks up speed, scattering the crows circling above. Sylus looks towards the roof of the Mythe, his lips curling into an amused smirk when he sees a lone silhouette crouched there. 

"There you are," he says. "How many more of your pawns should I kill before you decide to greet me?" Sylus smiles, his hands still in his pockets. "Or do I need to burn this anthill to the ground to get to you?"

The figure jumps down, and as it lands, the very ground shakes. The air shudders. A man straightens and stands tall, dressed in dark military armor. Sleek metal covers vulnerable points of his body, including his knees and parts of his gloves. He removes his hood and mask, revealing smoldering violet eyes and onyx hair.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Malakai Noxis?" Sylus asks.

"I'm humbled you remember me," Malakai replies with a sneer. He bows mockingly.

"You've certainly made a nuisance of yourself." Taking a step forward, Sylus crushes a bunch of glass shards under his foot. "This game you're playing with Evol disrupters and false Protocores has become difficult to ignore."

Malakai chuckles. "Oh? I'm honored. It's just a side project, really."

Sylus strokes his chin. "And yet, I don't recall giving you permission to operate on my turf."

"You have no jurisdiction outside N109, Sylus. The rules are different here." His gives a toxic grimace, eyes burning with malice.

"Malakai!" the men in Sylus's grasp scream. "Please help us!" The man's sneer deepens, a shadow crossing his face. Before the captives can say another word, something hisses as it wraps around their bodies. With a series of crunches and pops, the men are crushed like tin cans in a metal press. Blood sprays onto the snow and the other prisoners. They cry out in fear and cower. More screams as the other men meet the same end as their comrades.

Sylus watches carefully, analyzing, memorizing. This is a blatant display of power. Malakai wants him to know that his Evol has grown much stronger than before. Amusing, really. What a hopeless fool. No matter how strong his Evol grows, Malakai could never hope to measure up to him.

"If you think I'll give you any scrap of territory out here, you've got some surprises coming," Malakai scowls.

Sylus's smile never wavers even as Malakai finally attacks. The man sends a massive wave of force flying towards Sylus. It uproots half of the veranda with its might. Splintered wood and debris are launched into the air. Invisible hands grip the larger pieces and use them as weapons, firing them in Sylus's direction. But, none of it even ruffles Sylus's clothes. As the shockwaves and hurtling pieces of wood and metal pass him, a shield of black mist keeps him protected.

In the aftermath, Malakai stands still, fury marring his features. His fists are clenched at his side. The air fills with screams of the Mythe's patrons as people run out of the building in a stampede. The gun fight and now this must have been a catalyst to cause mass panic. Their centerpiece destroyed, their auction thwarted, and much of their manpower extinguished - this could not have been a worse night for Noxis.

And still, it was not enough. Sylus had neglected these upstarts long enough, and now Ellara was paying the price. Tonight would be their last, once and for all.

More men funnel out of the doorways to the veranda. At Malakai's command, they open fire. Blasters, guns, and rifles blast and tear apart the quiet snowy eve. Bullets of all shapes and sizes soar through the air. Ignoring the ensuing chaos, Malakai lifts his arms. With a howling and groaning of shattered wood and rending metal, he lifts a colossal chunk of the roof off the building. With a flick of his wrist, he rips it completely off and away. Another gesture and the massive thing flies towards Sylus. As it's hurtling in his direction, black mist wraps around the object and dyes it blood red. None of the bullets hit their mark, and by the time the other object reaches Sylus's shield, it's burned to a crisp. A snap of Sylus's fingers finishes it off, transforming the rooftop into nothing but ashes.

The men around Malakai balk, their faces draining of all color as they comprehend the power they've just witnessed.

"Is it my turn?" Sylus asks, tilting his head. He pulls a small device out of his pocket. "I'd love to play a few rounds with you, but I'm somewhat pressed for time."

He pushes the button in his hand.

Malakai's eyes widen. He realizes what's about to happen and launches himself off what's left of the veranda into the murky water of the river below.

A moment passes.

And then the world goes up in flames.

One by one, blinding explosions rip and tear into the night club, illuminating the surrounding night like fireworks.

More screaming as people shriek and stampede over each other to evacuate. They slip on wet and icy concrete, tripping over falling bodies and tearing at one another's clothes. Sylus watches them kill and maim each other in their haste to get to safety.

Human cruelty never ceases to amuse him.

His watch buzzes on his wrist. He frowns when he sees Luke's name on the caller ID.

Wrapping the mist around himself, he teleports some distance away and takes the call.

"Boss," Luke says, his voice tense. "Boss, you better come quick. The Lady isn't going to last much longer. We've got her in the Tub, but that shit that spilled all over her is eating her alive."

Sylus ends the call.

He looks to Mephisto's crows flying above and calls to his companion.

Ensure things are clean here, Sylus commands.

Mephisto agrees.

With one final look at the array of explosions still going off behind him, Sylus vanishes into the night.

[squirenonny]

Hi there!! Wrt you mentioning about team stimming parties, I was wondering, what types of stimming (toys, materials, their own body etc) do you think the paladins enjoy the most, or get the most benefit from. It's really enjoyable image ; w ; but I know some stims can conflict with other peoples needs, so what might be someones fave might annoy someone else. So I wonder what either makes them most happy, or helps them best when needed! (QwQ Those are intense circumstances they all live in.)

I got carried away,,

Keith: Mainly tactile stims, a few visual stims

Textures: there are Good textures, and there are Bad textures, which is why he always wears his same jacket (good texture) and gloves (first line of defense against bad textures–see also my post about Keith’s gloves). In general, wet and cold is definitely Bad, smooth is usually bad. His favorite textures are (a) layered (running his finger over the wrap on his knife and plucking at the edge of a layer) or (b) ribbed (things like corduroy, or the seams on jeans and jackets that have that edge he can catch his fingernail on.)

Repetitive motions: that classic thumb rubbing that we saw in his vlog. These are typically very tiny movements that he tries to hide–he’ll rub his toes together inside his shoe or tap the toe of his boot against the floor.

Deep pressure & buoyancy: Keith is pretty touch averse, so he doesn’t seek out deep pressure often, but if he’s in the right mood a Shiro (or Hunk) Hug is A++. He also needs a blanket to sleep, preferably two or three. Yes, even in the hottest part of summer. Tight pants/shirt are soothing, and ngl he likes his Blade uniform because it’s a more even pressure than the paladin armor, which is too heavy on his shoulders and too thin/flexible where there isn’t the outer layer of armor. On the flip side, he also likes swimming because of the bouyancy. (Interestingly, he hates the feel of rain/shower water falling on him. It’s just too overwhelming. But being in the water and just floating there is v relaxing.)

Visual stims: mostly the way light reflects off his blade when he twists it back and forth and similar reflection/refraction things (light reflecting off water, mirages, the abundance of glowy things in space… he’ll sometimes stare at the crystal on the bridge for the entire briefing–completely engaged with what people are saying, just. Staring at the ceiling. It’s mesmerizing, okay?)

Chewing: rare, but more common as he gets more comfortable around the other paladins. He used to chew on his pens at the Garrison all the time, and one of the reasons he keeps his hair long (aside from not having the spoons to cut it/get it cut and not liking change in the first place) is so that he can suck/chew on his hair. He had to cut it when he first entered the Garrison, and it’s just finally getting long enough to do it again.

The thing about Keith’s stims is that they’re all very lowkey things he an do to calm himself down without drawing anyone’s attention. Probably he had bad experiences at school or in a foster home with kids making fun of his stims or his foster parents/teachers hammering “sit still” and “quiet hands” into him until he completely stopped doing anything immediately noticeable. He used to flap and run around when he was happy, but he doesn’t do that so much anymore. (It’s coming back, though, especially with Pidge and Lance being such big stimmers.)

As a result, his stims don’t really bother the others too much. Lance has a moral objection to Keith chewing on his hair in particular, and if he’s using a chewer, the sound of it sometimes gets to Pidge, but that’s it.

Pidge: visual, vestibular, and auditory stims

Spinning, flapping, bouncing: A lot of Pidge’s stims involve moving around (see the entire time Beezer was onscreen.) There’s a spinny chair in Green’s lab for the express purpose of happy spins, and the team knows to be ready for excited flapping when something Pidge is working on comes out right. (Lance has been hit in the face on more than one occasion because he likes to drape himself over Pidge’s shoulder.) Bounces in place when bored, runs around the castle at odd hours, climbs the other paladins. Very much a “I have too much energy in me and need to expend it somehow” stimmer.

Music: Pidge usually has music playing in Green’s lab–invariably at deafening levels (the bass pulse in your chest is just as important as the music itself). Upbeat songs are best, but any kind of background noise will do. Has started a collection of alien music since this laptop only has a small portion of Pidge’s library (most of the hard drive was dedicated to Kerberos research/snooping on the Garrison.)

Echolalia: Pidge is big into echolalia. (Pidge isn’t the only one who’s big into echolalia. Lance is also a fan, and Hunk usually joins in when they start an echolalia party.) In particular, Pidge will quote movies/TV shows, echo robot noises back at whatever robot happens to be nearby, and make quiet trilling sounds while working on code

Misc visual stims: There isn’t any one thing Pidge goes to for visual stims, but gradual changes (a la screensavers, lava lamps, auroras, glitter jars) have a tendency to turn into time sinks. Pidge has absolutely spent an hour staring at a screen saver without realizing it while idly musing about programming problems.

Repetitive noises: Can be either good or bad. Mechanical sounds, electronic whirring, and other white noise are great. Sudden, jarring, or grating noises are huge Nos. (See Keith’s chewing and some of Lance’s echolalia.)

Pidge’s flapping and running has a tendency to make Shiro tense up, especially if he’s not in a good place to begin with, so Pidge sometimes has to remember to stay chill or just go somewhere else until the energy is gone. Keith doesn’t like how loud Pidge plays music (it hurts his ears), but he respects personal boundaries and won’t turn it down. He’ll leave if he can, and if he has to stay, he’ll get irritated and snappish until Pidge makes the connection and turns down the volume. It’s the only real sticking point between them when it comes to stims, and they’re working on better communication to make sure it isn’t an issue in the future.)

Lance: Primarily vestibular and auditory stims, plus deep pressure

Spinning, dancing, flying: Lance loves to move. He loves spinning and dancing and big motions and G-forces. (He’s a huge fan of roller coasters and other amusement park rides.) Flying is such a stim for him, holy crap. So much so that it can become a problem. Loops, barrel rolls, sharp turns, hard acceleration–he loves the way it all pushes on his body (see also: deep pressure) and the way it makes him hyper aware of the physical sense of motion. Sometimes he pays so much attention to the sensations that he momentarily loses track of where he’s going–which is why he still sometimes crashes/sideswipes the other lions.

Deep pressure: Lance is a very touchy person in general, but in particular he loves hugs and cuddle piles. His favorite thing is to have Pidge sprawled across his lap, or when he and Hunk are sprawled on the couch in a tangle of limbs, or group hugs, or–Yeah. all of the above. Deep pressure feels like home.

Aerial dance: A combination of vestibular and deep pressure stims. Loves the muscle control it requires for the same reason he loves G-forces while flying. It grounds him, makes him aware of the space he occupies. Add to that the pressure of the silks wrapped around his body and the spinning and negative Gs as he drops, and it’s just the best.

Echolalia: Lance and Pidge can have entire conversations in quotes. Lance also makes sound effects for anything and everything (in training, while flying/fighting in his lion, while cleaning, while dancing through the halls.) He sings nonsense tunes a lot and hums both for the sound and the feel of it.

Voices: Conversation itself can be a stim for Lance, regardless of whether or not he’s a participant. The fastest way for him to fall asleep is by having the people he cares about around talking (e.g. his parents laughing and joking as they clean up in the other room, Hunk and Lance talking less and less coherently as they fall asleep in their room at the Garrison, Pidge and Keith up late during a sleepover in the rec room talking in low voices.) Lance doesn’t even need to hear the words; there’s something soothing about the cadence of it. He’ll use TV or music as a substitute if he has to, and he finds it very hard to fall asleep in total silence.

Lance is a dramatic stimmer, so it totally depends on the rest of the team’s energy levels as to whether or not they’re bothered by it. Most of the time, Hunk and Pidge will join in, and the rest of the team at least doesn’t mind. If they’re tired, though, Lance’s raw energy can be Too Much. There were some clashes early on with Pidge until they worked out a system where Lance’s cuddles didn’t get in the way of Pidge’s hyperfocus on a project. Hunk’s cool with all of Lance’s stims except when he’s in the lion/ship Lance is piloting, because Lance’s stimmy rides make Hunk nauseous.

Mostly, though, if there’s a problem, it’s with Keith or Shiro–and even those are pretty rare. Keith is mostly just confused by Lance’s stims, and isn’t bothered by them unless he’s already in a bad mood and wants to be left alone. Then Lance’s big presence can be too much. And Shiro can be set on edge by Lance’s stims for the same reason Pidge’s can get to him: Shiro’s idea of soothing is calm and quiet, and both Lance and Pidge are… the opposite of that when they’re happy and relaxed. Lance picks up on this quick and usually is able to dial it back right away.

Hunk: Taste, smell, and tactile stims

Taste: Hunk must put All the things in his mouth. Tasting alien foods/spices, yes, but also anything. Flowers. Glittery pink snow-stuff. Purple water. He did this with the Olkari headsets, so I mean. It’s canon. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. This bleeds over into tactile stimming, honestly (see: Olkari headset making his tongue itchy. He sounds so pleased by that I just can’t. I love him.) It also has the unfortunate side effect of having put him in a pod more than once because he accidentally poisoned himself. Worth it, though.

Smell: Hunk cooks to calm down for two reasons. One, it breaks him out of his cyclical thoughts and other anxious habits, giving him something else to focus on that’s familiar and controllable. Two, the smells. Some people have scented candles. Hunk has a rack of extracts. Also, like? Flour has a really bland but comforting smell? And let’s not even get into the smell of a finished dish. Cookies? Pies? Bread?? The kitchen is paradise for many reasons, and olfactory stims are one.

Deep pressure: This team is united in their love of deep pressure, tbh. Group hugs are great all around, and Hunk’s only too happy to dish them out. Always glad to be a pillow for one of the other paladins. Wears a thick vest for that extra little bit of pressure around his chest.

Tinkering: There’s something really satisfying about feeling machine parts click into place under his hands–and the oil is only a bonus, as far as Hunk’s concerned. He’ll take things apart and put them back together on an endless repeat just to feel the weight/texture/shape of the pieces. Also great for repetitive motions. See: stimming with the wires and making the sentry bot hit itself while the younger paladins were waiting in the control room in season 1.

Misc tactile stims: Hunk just likes touching things/holding things/fiddling with things. He likes to have something to do with his hands, so even if he doesn’t mean to, he’ll usually find something to play with when he’s bored or trying to focus on something Shiro or Allura is saying.

Hunk, like Keith, has a lot of less obvious stims–though in Hunk’s case it’s less because he’s trying to suppress it and more because his favorite stims are typically ambient things. Put him in a happy environment and he’ll be happy. He’s grossed out almost everyone on the team by the kinds of things he licks/bites, and Pidge gets annoyed when his tinkering turns into fiddling with Pidge’s stuff. Otherwise, he’s pretty chill.

Shiro: Auditory, tactile, and a few vestibular stims

Shiro has two modes: lowkey and highkey

Lowkey Shiro likes things to be calm and quiet. Ambient noises (air in vents, breathing, his own heartbeat) can be stims, but anything that interrupts the (near) silence is a major Sensory Bad. Deep pressure is good when he’s in this state, as is the texture of whatever chair/couch/bed he’s resting on. He’ll be hyperaware of his body, especially its weight, and he’ll run through relaxation exercises or meditation techniques to chase that peculiar calmness that comes when he’s intimately aware of himself and his immediate environment but his mind is completely quiet.

Highkey Shiro, like Pidge, has too much energy and needs to burn it off. He’ll pace or go for a run, or spar, the pounding of his footsteps/clash of his arm on the gladiator’s weapon serving as a grounding force in addition to the release of restless energy. When he can’t leave to burn off energy, he’ll clench and unclench his prosthetic hand, squeeze his arms, and grind his teeth. The repetitive motion and the tug/pressure/pull of it is soothing and helps to take the edge off the frustration/anxiety/overstimulation he’s dealing with.

The most notable thing about Shiro is that almost all of his stims are unconscious–meditation/relaxation techniques being the main exception. He didn’t stim a whole lot before Kerberos, but he does it a lot more frequently after his capture.

As he gets to know the other paladins and becomes more familiar with their stims, he starts to be more deliberate about it–he wears a weighted vest like Hunk’s a lot of the time and usually has a fidget toy with him to stim with during long meetings. Lance also entices him out for relaxing flights in the lions, because as it turns out the sensations of piloting are good for Shiro the same way they are for Lance.

Shiro’s stims don’t bother anyone–in fact, for a long time, no one even realized Shiro was stimming–but he’s by far the most likely to be bothered by the other paladins’ stims. He needs to be in control of his environment, and unexpected/uncontrollable stimuli tend to set him on edge.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[squirenonny]

Honestly? Same. I hate the way they ended up treating Ryou, even though I always expected it to go that way. And that interview just makes me sad. Not only because it feels incredibly reductive to Ryou as a character, and downright chilling on an existential level, but because I find it to be lazy writing.

They're giving Shiro a single continuous character arc by fusing the two characters after the fact, which retroactively makes ALL of the clone plot pointless. They could have done what they wanted, far more effectively, if they'd just let it be *Shiro* who was taken over by Haggar's magic. Instead of letting the clone and the mind control be throw-away obstacles, let them be central to Shiro's character arc. Instead of letting Shiro keep all the good while sweeping the bad out with Ryou, why don't you let him confront it all? I don't see how Operation Kuron adds anything if you aren't going to acknowledge that there were two characters here, with their own lives and their own arcs.

I love Ryou, and I don't want him to have died, but rather him die as himself than get erased for the sake of giving Shiro some cheap continuity.

The clone merged with our Shiro! He's part of Shiro, Lauren said so!!!

Sigh. Yeah. I saw that. I follow ace-pidge and she posted the interview quote. It was what I expected to happen, honestly. They just can’t skip four seasons of development in canon and have Shiro miss out on it all. There’d be way too much stuff they’d have to explain. I WANT Shiro to have all of those memories and experiences, at least enough to know that he can go to Lance if he gets scared, he can play DnD with Coran, he can trust the others the way clone!Shiro trusted them. I don’t want him to miss out on it.

But you know what my first thought was when I read that quote? “Gross.” And my stomach turned over. Because Lauren specifically put it in terms of “Shiro absorbed the clone,” which implied to me that the clone was still…there. Sort of. In some sense. 

Like, what she meant is that Shiro is one person now. There aren’t two personalities fighting in his head. He’s not a sleeper agent anymore. He’s just Shiro, and the leader we know and love, and everything is fine, everything is perfect, stop worrying, it’s all good.

But… You can’t just absorb a PERSON. That is…so disgusting to me, I don’t really know how to explain. I expected it, completely and totally, but it still grosses me out, the way they’re sort of just sweeping this whole issue, and all the moral implications, under the rug. Nothing to see. Everything is fine. It doesn’t matter, so it’s almost like it didn’t happen at all.

But it DOES matter. Shiro’s clone matters. He was a person with his own thoughts and feelings and desires, even if they were very, very similar to someone else’s. You can’t just write over a person like a hard drive and pretend that nothing happened. The audience isn’t gonna forget that, as much as you might like them to.

At least, I’m not going to forget. I’m always going to remember that they destroyed a person and pretended that he wasn’t a person at all. Not gonna lie, the show is kind of tainted for me now, probably forever.

[tendebill]

drew the ow strike team as paladins of voltron, because i am normal about them :]

(2 other versions and a fucking essay below the cut!)

ok so im gonna give my reasoning for each of them

Reinhardt - the easierst to pick, the Yellow Lion is the most tank-like (besides the Black Lion, but thats cuz Black is the head + torso), also i think the legs of voltron are supposed to be the "pillars" that allow the team to work well, without them the whole thing crumbles (literally). from what i recall from the actual show, the Yellow Paladin is protective and loyal. Rein was the easiest to match up tbh (plus even the color fits lol)

Torbjörn - not my favourite choice, but tbh i dont think any other lion fits him? besides maybe Yellow, but Rein was too perfect so i couldnt give Torb that one. anyway, the Green Lion is the left hand. i consider the legs to be the "pillars" holding up the team, whereas the arms are the actual damage-dealers/the ones that act on what the leader commands. and as Torb is a dps, that fits just fine. hes not quite a leader, so being the left hand instead of the right is good. plus the Green Lion is inquisitive and curious, and since Torb is a genius, that fits just fine too. i thought he would look weird with green, since i associate him with red-orange-yellow the most, but he looks kinda nice

Ana - i was originally gonna make her blue from the get-go, but i thought it'd be silly to make the remaining three switch lions a bunch, so i can get an excuse to draw Gabe and Jack in multiple suits lmao. but Ana starts out as red, the right hand of Voltron, described as the most temperamental and aggressive. it requires a paladin that can keep up with it and works on instinct most of the time. i feel like Ana would have to BECOME the motherly figure for her team, instead of being one from the start. with that i think she would have been a more "lone wolf" type at first, only later on becoming more mindful of her teammates and how much they need her, which would lead to her becoming the paladin of the Blue Lion - a pillar that keeps the team going along with Rein, a vital part, but no longer in a leadership position. i've seen the Blue Lion described as a "free spirit" too, which i think is also perfect for her :3

Jack - for him i had three options, all of which fit him well: blue, red and black. and instead of picking one, i decided he was going to have three different lions :))) for shits and giggles. so he starts out as blue, a free spirit, very versitile (from what i gathered, the Blue Lion doesn't have a specific "thing" it specilizes in, but instead does a little bit of everything, kinda like Jack). i imagine Jack was the middle-man, an integral part of team-building. he would have been the one to push everyone to work together and follow Gabe's lead, but he was content being on the sidelines most of the time. eventually he takes up more responsibility, sees that he's vital for the team and that he can do more working side by side with Gabe, and so he becomes the paladin of the Red Lion, Gabe's right hand man. then he of course slowly grows to be the actual leader, as Gabe's approach changes and he slowly abandons his original role, passing the command over to Jack. and so Jack's last lion is the Black Lion. also i feel like all three lions fit Jack's color scheme pretty well, so that's another win for me hah

Gabe - since he was the original Strike Commander, i thought it only natural that he would be the first to pilot the Black Lion. the pilot needs to be decisive, stay cool in the face of danger and be someone whose men will follow him into battle with no hesitation - all traits that i see Gabriel would have had to have during the first Omnic Crisis. like i mentioned before, Jack eventually becomes his second in command, and then slowly their roles start to shift. Gabe is no longer content in making decisions for the whole team, he probably also becomes more violent and reckless, relying on Jack to keep him in check. he loses his connection with the Black Lion and becomes the paladin of the Red Lion, Jack's right hand man. the traits of Red fit him well too - aggressive, relies on instinct, temperamental, plus i imagine Gabe is the type to want to get things done as quickly as possible, no matter the risk, to save more people faster. plus, again, the colors match up yaaaay!

fun fact: i never finished watching voltron ^^

also i am truthing anahardt and reaper76 as we speak

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 24 - Rhaenyra’s Crown

Part 25

Fire Of A Stark

@dragonixfrye

I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit.

I, Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of Oldtown, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra.

I, Boremund Baratheon... promise to be faithful to King Viserys…

I, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Warden of the North…

Reading over the documented coronation of the black queen they called her I was sitting on one of the beds inside the abandoned dragon castle. Footsteps came closer to the door before Jaime came inside, closing the door behind him. He walked over to the bed seeing my head buried in a book reminding him for a second like his brother because I didn't look up until he sat down making the bed dip at his weight. "I would have thought you had finished that book, little dragon."

"I found a whole library full of them that someone had transported here before the fall of the house. But this is the end of the one your brother gave me. I still have a bunch of pages of Vayarin to learn. But listen to this, I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name... King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, do hereby name...Rhaenyra Targaryen Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

He leans back on his palms nodding his head at me. "If you think she wants you to become the queen then why aren't you wearing her crown?"

"Because no one can know my true blood except you." Lifting my gaze up from the pages I eyed the object across the room sitting on a dresser with a dusty mirror.

He placed his left hand over my right shifting my gaze to focus on my lord husband as he softly declared. "You don't have to hide anymore. I swore that to you back in King's Landing. The men that are following us to the rock are loyal to my house. They shall serve whatever command we give to them. So you can show your natural hair." He moved his hand up, threading his fingers through my brown hair.

"Jaime, it's sweet that you think that's an option but we - I can't possibly-" He cuts me off resting a hand to my cheek making me look him in the eye before he kisses me quickly.

"Stop worrying, Lynesse. No better yet fuck worry. Fuck anyone who wants to come after you because I will protect you. Targaryens may not rule anymore but you'll be my queen from this day until the end of our days." He rose to his feet striding over and picking up the golden crown coming back over to me. "I may not be a king and I am not very good at being a Lord. But I name you my queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

Sucking in a breath I could hardly believe it. Here I have been thinking that someday he would come to see that all Targaryen blood acted the same and that he would kill me but he doesn’t seem that way. He may not ever truly love me yet he trusts me enough to let me live by his side. “Jaime I…I’m not queen material.”

“You are to me, Lynesse.” He declared gently sitting the golden crown on top of my head pushing some of my hair down and took a step back. “You can be who you truly are around me.”

Rising to my feet I rushed forward flinging my arms around his neck where he stumbled a little wrapping his arms around my waist holding me close to his chest. Lifting my head up the crown actually doesn't fall off my head like I thought it might. "A white haired Targaryen might give a Lion some trouble. Can you handle that hmm?"

"This Lion will learn to handle dragon fire." He smirked tugging me closer making me giggle before I jumped up trying to wrap my arms around his waist but I felt a sharp pain in my back before I felt like I needed to throw up again. Holding my stomach I rushed towards the pot puking with my hair falling in front of my face.

Jaime came over, moving it out of the way, hearing me struggling to catch my breath after that. When I had thrown up in the weeks prior to this one we were sailing until we reached land so we both assumed it was sea sickness since I had never been outside of Winterfell until the king road North. But the fact that it was happening on land meant something else we just weren't sure yet. "Find me a Maester, Jaime…"

"I don't want to leave you here like this. Can you walk with me?" He was concerned about me while resting his golden hand on my back searching my eyes.

Sucking in a breath I croaked out intertwining my freehand with his right arm. "I'm alright…but something is definitely different."

Together Jaime and I slowly moved through the castle passing some of the guards that had been on the boat with us. We had decided that we would give the men a rest before we made the truck back towards Casterly Rock since there wasn’t any real good food or other supplies kept in this castle. From the looks of it no one had been here since the fall of the Mad King. Seeing as everyone in the world thinks the Targaryens are all gone. Finally we found the room that we had given to a Maester that had traveled with us. “Maester, my wife is still throwing up.” Jaime exclaimed, helping me sit down on the bed in front of the older man.

“Let’s have a look, my lady.” He replied, coming to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my stomach looking me up and down before asking a question I should have been prepared for. “When was the last time you’ve bled. Lady Lannister?”

Stuttering out a response I couldn’t really remember when. Tyrion’s trial had kept my mind busy more than anything. “I can’t remember to be honest sir.”

“Well if you are having morning sickness like this and haven’t bled in the last few weeks we have been on this trip then I must congratulate you both my lord, my lady. You are pregnant.” He spoke shifting his gaze up from me then to Jaime. “I’ll give you two a few moments alone.”

Once he left my hands dropped to my stomach grinning ear to ear. My hair falling over my shoulders I turned my head in the direction of Jaime. I couldn’t imagine what was running through his head but it would be my first child. One that would be both Lannister and Targaryen blood. “Jaime, we’re going to have a child. Our first child. We’re going to have a child.”

Jaime was frozen in his own thoughts about what the old man had said moments ago. He never thought he would ever become lord of the rock and bear children. And even the ones he had conceived with Cersei were never truly his. “I’m going to be a father, Lynesse…I’m going to be a father.”

“You’re right I am done hiding, let's go show them their true Lady Lannister.” Rising to my feet I grabbed his forearm leading him back to our chambers. Bursting through the doors I softly removed Rhaenyra’s crown, getting my hair completely wet removing the brown dye that named me Stark. Coming back into our bedroom Jaime was seated on the edge of the bed holding the crown in his left hand locking eyes with me.

Running my hands through my hair even though it was still dripping wet you could see the white coming through much stronger than the dark color. Wearing one of my gray tunic shirts and red trousers with boots I walked over attaching my sword to my hip moving to stand in front of Jaime once again when he rose to his feet. He lifts the crown sitting it back on my head slowly dropping his hands at his sides before I blurted out the words I never thought I would. “Jaime, I don’t expect you to say it back but I think I am falling in love with you. Throughout everything we have been through you have never forced me to be something I am not. You have vowed to protect me and..I have no doubt that you will this child, our child. Just know that some part of me is falling in love with you.”

“You’re right I can’t say it yet but I’ll show you close to that, my dragon queen.” He tugged me into his chest, crashing his lips down onto mine deeply. I jumped up wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me up with his real and golden hand, never breaking the kiss. My hands found themselves in his short hair when he spun us around gently letting us fall back onto the bed. My hair sprawled out underneath me while I pushed him off removing the crown and my shirt sitting the object on the table. Jaime removed his shirt before I pulled him in for a long kiss that would lead to many more in the night to come.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 5

Onto Ch 5. Spoilers beneath the cut.

STORY

Edelgard is a master at making enemies lol. But I guess that's what happens when you want to conquer everyone.

Lonato and Rowe being dumbasses lamo. Edelgard, your allies suck. And Lonato's purely motivated by vengeance too. Messing up plans, getting all those people killed.

MAP

New facilities. Batallions and blacksmith. Yesssss.

Also, you know in one of the past battles how Seteth wrecked Petra and Ferdinand? Well, can confirm, that I'm on casual and not classic mode lol. They're still here.

Randolph is so fucking boring.

Poor Petra got the same dialogue she did with Byleth about liking hot over cold. Couldn't they think of anything new for her to say?

SHEZ & HUBERT C SUPPORT

I'm excited for this. Hubert is by far one of my favorite Black Eagles. He's just so unapologetically . . . Hubert.

Wait, I can pick getting jealous of Edelgard, for getting to train with Hubert. 100% this. I love so, so much the more varied answers here.

I love how Hubert's making this huge deal out of a commoner getting the honor to train with Lady Edelgard, like it's some oh so rare present you're lucky to get, but like . . . Dimitri and Dedue? Half the Golden Deer are commoners? It's not so rare as you think, bub, it's just Adrestia lacks any commoners in their route.

I really think Adrestia puts way more importance on rank.

FERDINAND & LINHARDT C SUPPORT

Linhardt's design is very pretty in this game.

Linhardt's a good artist if he can copy it exactly.

Side note, I hate realism in literature. Mark Twain is torture for me.

Ferdinand asked for a portrait. I mean, if I looked like Ferdinand, I wouldn't mind a realistic portrait.

Ferdinand's quite full of himself, lamo, calling himself the personification of nobility. Poor Linhardt.

SIDE BATTLES

Extra quests are basically monster fights? Are they worth it?

"If we were done with you, we'd kill you, not abandon you." Good, old Hubert. He was talking about Shez's powers.

Edelgard's redesign screams anime magic girl princess.

"Did Hubert threaten you? Don't let it get to you." She's really dense, hunh. Most people don't like getting threatened by the second in command.

"Enemy Rodrigue appeared." MY HEART. Noooo. Didn't like fighting him at all.

Petra wants to go on an expedition with me. How could I say no to her? That was a bit underwhelming. All that stuff with the horses just felt a bit like a waste of time.

Only female units challenge. That's interesting. I'm guessing there's a male units only challenge coming along?

I don't want to fight Gustave :(

On a side note, this game really suffers from "I must retreat" syndrome.

MAIN BATTLE

Fog of war. My favorite. /s

LAMO why is it every time someone sides with Edelgard, they're evil? And working with TWSITD? Like Rowe.

I don't like Caspar's hair. It looks like a pincushion.

NOOOOO, Ingrid's here. Nooooo. I refuse to fight her. And I think I heard Jeralt.

Lamo, Lonato died. Gotta restart.

Oh, thank God, Ingrid retreated.

Aww, poor Ashe is upset Lonato betrayed Dimitri. :(

Edelgard "family should never fight family." Girl, you started a fucking war. What did you think would happen? What an ignorant sentiment from someone who takes her actions.

Lonato's a fucking idiot too. "I could not bear to lose another son." Maybe then . . . don't try to kill Rhea because she killed your son when he tried to murder her????

Did Alois abandon his family to join a bunch of mercenaries?

Have to admit, having Byleth be nigh unbeatable really makes the whole "ashen demon" thing seem more legit.

STORY

"This victory will further our conquest." - To anyone still arguing she's not after conquest.

I'm guessing this dialogue between Arval and Shez is going to appear on every route.

Got Ashe, feel weird about it though. Like, I love him, but it feels so, so wrong to take him from the other Blue Lions so far. He's all alone. I'm sure that'll eventually change though.

Go Glouster, hahaha. This is amazing. He was working to wreck the Empire the whole time. Did Edelgard really think people would welcome invasion with open arms?

Edelgard is getting her ass kicked 🤣😂👌

Claude wanting to spare lives. It's not your fault. Edelgard is solely responsible for every death here. Let's not forget who started this.

xxxx

[rjhpandapaws]

A Cup of Something Better

Ch 12: A Weekend with Sumo

Connor was excited to be staying over at Hank’s to help with Sumo. Friday night they didn’t get up to a whole lot. Connor arrived around seven; fed Sumo, took him for a walk and then fell asleep on the couch. When Connor woke up Saturday morning he saw he had a good night text from Hank that he had missed, so before he got up for the day he sent a reply.

Connor: Good morning Hank :) I hope you had a good flight.

Sumo heard him move and sat up enough to rest his big head on the couch. Connor smiled and reached out to pet his head, “Good morning to you too bud. Let’s get you some breakfast. A little later we’ll go to the park.” The Saint Bernard perked up at the word ‘breakfast’ and made a b-line for the kitchen. Connor couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle and got up to follow the excited dog. He fed Sumo and went about making his own breakfast. He’d been surprised to find the note on the counter last night that had said Hank had bought groceries so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Connor had planned to go grocery shopping today. He got out what he would need for French Toast and started cooking. When Sumo finished his breakfast he came to sit beside Connor and begged for scraps. It didn’t take long for Connor to give in, he tore off a chunk of piece of bread and gave it to Sumo after he had followed the signed command to lay down. It was going to be a long weekend if Connor didn’t get over his puppy eye weakness soon.

He finished making his breakfast and put the dirty dishes in the sink. He made his way to the dining room table and Sumo followed close behind in hopes of getting more scraps. Connor took a seat at the table and Sumo placed his big head in Connor’s lap and stared up at him with wide sad brown eyes. “I can’t feed you anymore or your dad will get mad at me.” Sumo let out a huff, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to make you sick or get in trouble.” Sumo let out another huff and inched his big body closer to Connor. The brunette had tried his best to ignore him, but by the time breakfast had ended Connor had given Sumo two more bites of bread and an bite of scrambled eggs. His weak will once again crumbling under the weight of Sumo’s puppy eyes. “No more for the rest of the weekend.” he told the dog as he did the dishes. Sumo just boofed at him, they both knew he was lying. He let Sumo out to go to the bathroom, and when he came back inside Connor settled on the couch to get some studying done, he wanted to get ahead on his classes. It was early afternoon when he decided to pack Sumo into Hank’s car and headed for the park. It was nice out and Connor had plans to stay for a few hours or at least until Sumo wanted to go home.

He found a place to park, grabbed the toys he brought for Sumo and got out. He walked around the car, put the lead on Sumo and let him out of the car. They walked around the park for a couple of laps. Sumo stopped on the path just as curious about the green eyed black cat on a walking harness and lead as Connor was. The man attached to the cat cleared his throat. “Pretty cool huh?” The man said with a smile to his voice, “You can take a picture if you want. Also, I love your dog.” Connor took out his phone and snapped a picture of the cat while the stranger did the same with Sumo. It was one of those moments of a picture being taken only seconds before disaster. The black cat had soon decided that she’d had enough of having a big dog in her face and sat back on her haunches to smack Sumo in the face. Once was all it took for Sumo to cower behind Connor, who was doing his best not to laugh as he tried to soothe him by petting his head. He heard the stranger begin to lecture his cat. “God Franklyn, why are you always such a bitch? This is why you have no friends.” Connor looked up to find him holding the cat in his hands so that they were eye level while he lectured her. A reverse Lion King king of thing, “He was just trying to say hello.”

With his cat sufficiently lectured, he turned his attention to Connor, “I’m so sorry about that.” Connor shook his head with a slight smile, “It’s no problem. You didn’t know she was going to do that.” “Fair enough.” The stranger conceded.  They both moved on with their walks. Sumo crossed over to the other side of Connor when they had to pass Franklyn. When they had finished their walk and Connor had found a bench to relax at, he sent the picture to Hank.

Connor: I hope you are having a good day :)

Hank <3: It’s going about as good as one of these can Hank <3: I have to leave in a few and I’ll be hit and miss for the rest of the day.

Connor: Alright. Connor: Good luck with your speech! :P

Connor put his phone away and played fetch with Sumo until the Saint Bernard came to lay at his feet and refused to give up the tennis ball. They stayed at the bench until Sumo was willing to move. Then they headed back to the house. Now that he wasn’t as exhausted and he had the time, Connor cleaned up his makeshift bed from the living room and moved his things to the guest room. When that was finished he looked through the fridge and got things out to start on a late lunch. He decided to make a grilled turkey sandwich and Sumo stuck close to his side to beg for scraps.

“I’m not supposed to give you people food.” He said when he glanced down at Sumo, “Your dad will get upset with me and I won’t be allowed to come stay with you anymore.” Connor didn’t actually believe Hank would be that strict with it, but he needed some kind of outside motivator not to feed Sumo. He finished making the sandwich and moved to the dining table with Sumo all but underfoot. The moment he sat down the Saint Bernard glued himself to Connor and begged for food. Connor did his best not to look at him because he knew the moment he looked down it would all be over and Sumo would be getting some turkey. Lunch passed without an incident which gave Connor’s bride a boost. The brunette spent the next couple hours working on Sign Commands with Sumo. He went over the ones he already knew and tried to get  him to learn the ones from last week. When evening rolled around Connor fed Sumo and started cooking spaghetti for himself. When it was done he sent a picture of it Hank as well as one of Sumo who was waiting for him by the dining table. Dinner passed without Connor giving in, mostly because of the fact that he knew dogs couldn’t have tomatoes. After dinner was done and the dishes were cleaned Connor sat on the couch with Sumo sprawled out beside him. He clicked onto the profile Hank had made for him on his Netflix and found a true crime show to watch. He got absorbed in it and continued to absently pet Sumo.

He was scared out of his half asleep stupor by his phone ringing. Both he and Sumo jolted upright, and the large dog let out a single loud bark as Connor dug around for his phone. When he found it he was surprised to see Hank’s name on the screen. He blew through his shock and answered it immediately. “Hank?” Connor asked in a rush, “Is everything okay?” “Connor?” Hank slurred. He’d been drinking apparently and was either already drunk or well on his way there. “ ‘Nor ar’ya there?” “I’m here Hank.” He reached out to calm Sumo who was still agitated from earlier, “What’s wrong?” Connor hated to immediately assume that something was wrong, but he couldn’t think of a positive reason as to why Hank would be calling him of all people while drunk. “Ezra is here.” Hank said surprisingly clear, “She’s th’ key fuckin speaker. They’re hav’n me intr’duce my own ex fiance.” Ah, so that was the problem. Hank’s excitement over getting invited to speak at the convention had gotten over shadowed by a ghost from his past. A ghost he still had feelings for if the drunken phone call was anything to go by. Connor buried the hurt that was threatening to pry his chest open and spoke, praying his voice was level when he did. They were only friends, if Hank still loved Ezra that was none of his business. “You’re just introducing her right?” He said slowly so that Hank would have an easier time understanding him, “If you don’t have to talk to her, just introduce her and be on your way. That would be the easiest way to do it.”

Hank hummed on the other end of the line and Connor couldn’t tell if it was because he was thinking or because he was having problems staying awake, “That shoul’ work. I jus’ hope she’ll stay away fr’m me.” So it wasn’t left over feelings. The relief that flooded Connor’s chest was closely followed by guilt. Something about this situation had pushed Hank to drink. As much as he wanted to ask about it, he wouldn’t because Hank wasn’t in a state to give a coherent answer and it was none of his business. Who Ezra was and what she had done didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was helping Hank get through it. “How was the convention today?” Connor asked in hopes of distracting Hank. “It was good. I didn’t have to talk to day s’ I listened to a few of the others ‘nd walked around.” Hank let out another hum that sounded a little more tired than the first, it was nearing midnight in Michigan so Connor could relate, “What did you an’ Sumo do today?” Connor smiled as he pet Sumo. “We went to the park and met a cat named Franklyn as well as the person that belongs to her. Played fetch for a little bit and then came back home. I tried teaching him the Sign Commands again and that went about as well as you would expect.” He heard Hank give a soft sound on the other end of the line. “Now we’re watching tv and talking with you.” Connor turned his head away from the phone to muffle a yawn.

Hank let out another tired hum, “Alright I’mma go t’ sleep. I’m g’na be fuckin hungover tomorrow.” “Sleep well Hank.” Connor said with a slight smile. “You too Con.” Hank responded before hanging up. Connor stared blankly at the tv for a few moments before he stood up to let Sumo out. His thoughts kept cycling back to Ezra. What had she done, that just introducing her would prompt Hank to drink himself into a stupor? Something had to have happened. Hank, according to his own words, had been doing better; only having a glass or two of whiskey on the good nights. So something had brought him to this, and Connor couldn’t be there to help. Sumo pulled Connor out of his head by brushing up against him when he walked back into the house. Connor shut the door behind Sumo and sighed as he headed to get ready for bed. He had work Monday morning and his classes started Tuesday evening, so this was his last weekend to relax. When he was ready for bed he climbed into the guest bed and invited Sumo up with him. His worried kept him awake for a while, but Sumo’s snoring soothed him into a light sleep. Despite his late night, Connor found himself awake early Sunday morning. He stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling until Sumo decided it was time to get up. He let Sumo out and put the food in his dish while he was outside. When that was done and he was waiting for Sumo to come inside he texted Hank.

Connor: Good morning Hank Connor: Don’t forget to drink water and take some pain pills Connor: You had a rough night :)

Sumo came back inside so Connor shut the door and put his food dish down. With Sumo taken care of Connor got  started on his own breakfast, a veggie omelet with cheese and a couple slices of toast. Sumo finished his breakfast and came to sit beside Connor while he cooked. Connor looked down at Sumo with a slight smile. “You got over here too late bud. There isn’t anything for me to give you.” He said as he got back to cooking. They went through the usual breakfast routine of Connor eating and Sumo pressed as close as possible begging for food. He caved and gave Sumo a couple of bites of his omelet. They sat on the couch and watched tv for a couple of hours. Connor was getting ready  to take Sumo for a walk when his phone chimed from his pocket.

Hank <3: I am SO sorry Connor! Hank <3: I don���t remember much of last night, but I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.

Connor: Don’t worry about it :) Connor: You just needed some company Connor: It happens to the best of us

Hank <3: Thanks Con Hank <3: Have a good rest of your day

Connor: You too Hank :)

Connor put Sumo on his lead and headed out the door. He let Sumo take charge since he probably knew his way around the neighborhood better than Connor did. They were out for about an hour and both he and Sumo flopped onto the couch. Connor turned the tv on and stayed like that until his body decided it was time to have lunch. He give Sumo a little extra food as well to keep him occupied while Connor cooked. He decided on having a grilled tuna wrap and tomato soup. He had the soup on one burner and the innards for his wrap on the other. As soon as Sumo finished eating he came to lean against Connor’s leg as he cooked. He looked down at Sumo and smiled. “This isn’t for you bud.” Connor said in a gentle tone, “You’ve already had your lunch, this is mine.” Sumo huffed at him and Connor laughed quietly.  He finished cooking the insides for his wrap and put them in the tortilla, rolled it and then took the time to cook the outside as well before he put it on the plate. He checked the soup and added a little more seasoning before putting some into a bowl. He headed to the table with Sumo close on his tail as usual.  He managed to make it through lunch without feeding Sumo. He did the dishes and put the left over soup away. Connor would make something for dinner to go with it. After lunch he tried to teach Sumo the Sign Commands again. It went a little better today, he seemed to finally recognize a couple of them. They did that for a couple hours before Sumo gave up and laid down. Connor put the tv back on and stayed like that until Sumo decided it was dinner time.

Connor let the large dog out then got his food ready and set the dish on the counter. He messaged Hank to check in.

Connor: Just checking in! Connor: I hope your speech went well :)

Sumo came back in and Connor put his dish down. Connor was feeling pretty exhausted from his long night and decided that reheating the soup from lunch would be good enough. He put the remaining portion in a bowl and put that in the microwave to cook. Sumo came to lean against him again and Connor reached down to pet him. “No cooking tonight bud, I’m not feeling it.” He said and Sumo huffed not seeming to mind all that much since he was getting attention. He grabbed a spoon when the microwave went off and took the bowl to the table. Sumo made a passive attempt at begging but Connor didn’t feed him. Hank had sent a reply by the time Connor had finished dinner.

Hank <3: Thank you! The speech went well :)

Connor: That’s great

Hank <3: How was your day?

Connor: Pretty good Connor: We went for a walk and practiced commands again Connor: I have work in the morning though, so I’m going to call it a night

Hank <3: Sleep well

Connor: You too Hank :)

He let Sumo out one last time before he got ready for bed. He set his alarm for early the next morning so he wouldn’t have to rush. He wouldn’t have to call a cab either he had permission to use Hank’s car. tomorrow would be a busy day; he had work in the morning, then around three-thirty he would need to leave so he could be on time to the airport to pick up Hank. He climbed into bed, Sumo hopped up beside him and it didn’t take him ling after that to fall asleep. His alarm went off at its set time and he was glad it was set to a softer song, he didn’t think he could handle one of Sumo’s full volume barks first thing in the morning. He got up and got dressed for work. He let Sumo out, fed him, and made a couple pieces of toast for breakfast. Sumo stared at him with wide eyes like usual, begging for toast and Connor chuckled. “You’ll beg for anything, won’t you bud.” He said with a smile curling at his lips, “I’m not gonna share this with you, I need the energy for work.” Sumo just huffed and oved closer.  Connor finished his toast and showed Sumo his empty hands. The big dog huffed again and headed for the living room. Connor finished getting ready for work, let Sumo out one last time, and then texted Hank before he left.

Connor: Have a safe flight. I’ll be there to pick you up when you land :)

The drive to work was relatively uneventful. He turned the radio on and nearly scared the soul out of his body when heavy metal rolled to life out of the speakers. He turned the radio off as soon as he collected himself enough to move and drove the rest of the way in silence.  His shift went by without incident. Macchiato Guy came in, and Connor was reminded of the guy from the park who had been walking his cat. Richard also came in so that was pretty nice. When he got off work, he drove back to Hank’s house and let Sumo out as soon as he got back. He made himself a quick lunch by microwaving what was left of the spaghetti. After he ate he did the dishes, pack his things and cleaned up around the house so it looked neat again. When it came close to time to leave he put his bag in the trunk and then went back to grab Sumo. He was pretty sure Hank would be excited to see Sumo when he got back. Before he left he messaged Hank again.

Connor: On my way! See you soon.

He didn’t expect a reply and he didn’t get one. The plan they had come up with was that Connor would pick Hank up at the airport, then drive back to his complex, and from there Hank would drive himself home. Sumo laid down in the back seat and the drive was quiet. He drove around for a bit until he found a parking place that was somewhat close to where Hank had said his exit gate was. He messaged Hank and cracked the windows for Sumo while they waited. 

Connor: I’m here :) let me know when you land.

Connor turned in the driver’s seat so he could pet Sumo and passed the time that way. It didn’t feel like all that long before his phone went off. Hank had sent a picture of his baggage claim trolley as well as one of the marked entrances near him. Connor was pretty proud of his self for managing to park relatively close.

Hank <3: Just waiting on bags Hank <3: You can come in if you want

Connor smiled at his phone. He cracked the windows a little more, told Sumo to stay and made his way inside. He followed the signs until he found the one that matched the picture on his phone. He found Hank pretty easily after that, due to his unique taste in shirts. “How was California?” Connor asked once he had gone to stand beside Hank. “You know, most people start with hello, right?” Hank shot hack but smiled at Connor anyway, “It was good. How was Sumo?” “He was good. He seemed to like that I didn’t have anywhere to be for two days.” Connor replied as the trolley started up, “He was very cuddly.” “I’ll bet he was.” Hank said half heartedly with most of his attention now on the baggage trolley as he looked for his. Connor looked too, though he wasn’t much help since he didn’t know what the bag looked like and Hank was too focused to answer him when he asked.

It took about ten minutes to get the bag and once they had it they headed for the car. Watching as Hank lit up when he saw Sumo was what made Connor’s day. Hank rushed to put his bag in the trunk and then opened the back passenger side door so he could shower the massive dog with affection. It seemed like Hank had missed Sumo as much as the big dog had missed him. “Surprise.” Connor said with a broad grin. Hank straightened up so he could look at Connor over the roof of the car, “You’re the best.” Connor ducked his head and smiled as he opened the driver’s side door, “I figured you’d like to see him without having to wait until you got home.” He heard Hank close Sumo’s door and it was a short time later before he got in, “Thanks for that Con.” Connor smiled and pulled out of the parking spot, “It’s no problem Hank.” They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Connor had a million questions about the convention, but Hank didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it. There was still something heavy in his eyes despite his best efforts to make it seem like everything was alright. Part of Connor wanted to press, but now wasn’t the time to be nosey. If Hank wanted him to know, he would have told him. They arrived at Connor’s apartment complex about a half hour later and the brunette parked in his rarely used space. “Thanks for letting me look after Sumo.” He said, turning to Hank with a kind smile, “I’ll do it again whenever you need me to.”

“I should be thanking you Con,” Hank argued. “The trip was so much easier knowing that he was in good hands.” “I’m glad I could help.” Connor replied before they both got out. Hank made his way to the driver’s side and Connor walked around the car to say his goodbye to Sumo before he grabbed his bag. He waved to Hank one last time before he headed up to his apartment. He unpacked his things, got what he would need for his classes together, and decided to veg out on the couch a bit before bed. After a couple of hours he decided to call it a night early again so he would have enough energy for his work and classes tomorrow. He sent a good night text to Hank.

Connor: Good night :)

Hank <3: Sleep well Con.

[legendarysharpshooter]

Lost Prince Ch. 1

First, Last, Next

A03

******

Each shot hits the target dead on, one after another, unrelenting until he’s out of bullets. The shooting range falls silent. He lowers the weapon to his side and stares at his targets with a frown.

It’s still not enough…

“How do you ever expect to be a leader if you can’t even lead a successful mission?” 

Iverson’s words burn deep in his mind after another failed flight simulation. It’s not his fault Pidge can’t reach… or that Hunk gets sick. Well…. Okay, maybe he could have tried to fly like a sane person, but still… there’s medicine for motion sickness. All that aside though, he can’t even say it wasn’t his fault, because it was. Because he took his eyes off their flight path. He stopped paying attention to their surroundings to berate his crew...

It’s his fault they crashed. 

At this rate, he’s never going to make it into space again. Not as an actual pilot that’s for sure. He can’t even fly a fake ship…. Because he’s not good enough. 

Not as a pilot. Not as a leader. Not as Akiva’s descendent…. Not worthy of being a ‘prince’... Not worthy of the Black Lion…. 

Because at the end of the day, he will never be enough… 

A touch. A gentle caress on his neck has his hair raising. He touches the back of his neck, confused as he glances over his shoulder. Empty space greets him. He sighs, shaking the feeling off and turns back to the task at hand. Targets aren’t going to shoot themselves after all. 

He hears it as he begins setting up the next round of shots. Whispered words on a soft breeze.

Lance. 

The hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

Something dances at the edge of his vision. 

He looks around again, only confirming what he already knew. He’s the only one in the shooting range right now. 

“Great... “ he mutters to himself. “Now they can add crazy to the list of why I shouldn’t lead….” He looks around the area again with a frown before rubbing at his eyes. “Maybe I just need to sl-” 

The door swooshes open behind him. He jumps, spinning around and aiming his gun at the intruder. There’s a yelp and then brownies spilling to the floor as his friend uses the plate to shield himself. 

Hunk, his best friend and current roommate. A big, burly teddy bear of a guy, cowers behind an empty plate of brownies. Next to him and a couple feet shorter, stands Pidge; their crewmate. Pidge looks eerily similar to Matt, in Lance’s humble opinion, though he insists there’s no relation. Lance isn’t too sure but doesn’t have much to prove his theory. 

For all he knows, they could be cousins and Pidge just doesn’t want special treatment from the Garrison. 

Pidge looks up at Hunk unimpressed before grinning. 

“I told you he’d be here,” he says, smugly. Lance lowers his gun with a frown.

“What are you two doing here?” he asks. Lance huffs looking at Hunk’s cowering form. “Put the plate down, Hunk. I’m not going to shoot you.” Slowly the boy lowers his plate, un-scrunching his face into a relaxed stance. 

“Sorry….” Hunk says. “I wasn’t expecting to have a gun pointed at me today… or ever.” 

“Sorry, you startled me,” Lance replies, setting his weapon down on the counter behind him. “Now… what are you doing here?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Pidge asks. He sighs at Lance’s blank stare. “Well…. Hunk wanted to cheer you up with brownies but that obviously isn’t happening now.” 

Lance looks down at the floors with a grimace. Of course he’d ruin a present from his friends. They’re only trying to make him feel better and now he’s ruined it.

“How’d you even find me?” he asks before his thoughts can get any more negative. 

“Everyone knows you come here when you need space,” Hunk says as he stoops down to pick up the fallen treats. His face drops. “I didn’t think you’d be here though… especially after Iverson chewed you out like that.” The trio falls silent; Lance thinking over Hunk’s words; Hunk too busy picking up brownies, and Pidge thoughtfully watching the young prince. 

“Don’t let him get to you, Lance,” Pidge says. “Iverson’s a jerk and you’ll make a great leader someday.” Lance smiles half heartedly, appreciating the words of encouragement. It falls off his face just as soon as it arrives. 

He can’t even connect with the Black Lion. How is he supposed to lead his people? 

“Yeah,” Hunk agrees, standing back up again, full plate in hand. “Iverson’s just hard on you because he can see your potential.” Lance huffs, smile playing on his face. 

 “I bet you say that to everyone,” he says. Hunk sputters, nearly dropping his plate again. 

“No!” 

“Well… either way, we have a project to finish,” Pidge chimes in, adjusting his glasses. “And we can’t do that without Prince Charming. So maybe stop shooting for a bit and help us?” 

“Oh yeah…” Hunk says. “That’s the other reason we came. We need your help putting together the slides for our presentation tomorrow.” 

Lance stares at them, mind drawing a blank. What project are they talking about? He doesn’t have any presentations coming up. What classes do they even have tomorrow? A class that has a presentation…. Are they even in a class like that?

“Well this is embarrassing. He completely forgot,” Pidge mutters. He sighs, leveling the young Altean with an unimpressed look. Lance stares at him, lost on what they’re even talking about. He doesn’t have anything due tomorrow. Not that he can remember at least. 

“Can I tell him?” Hunk asks, shifting anxiously. “We’re wasting time waiting for him to remember.” Pidge rubs his chin thoughtfully before shaking his head. 

“A hint,” Pidge offers. “There’s a lot of historical events to remember after all.” Lance sucks in a breath, eyes going wide. 

Crap.

He forgot about their History project…. The very one he promised them he was working on. 

“You did do your half, right?” Hunk asks. 

“What?” he squeaks. “Yeah! Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I do it?” His nervous laugh has the hope falling right off Hunk’s face. It’s not his fault he put it off until the last minute… okay, maybe it is, but a report on Altean history is a walk in the park. He knows their history like the back of his hand. 

“Lance….”

“It’s fiiiine, Hunk,” Lance says, walking over to his friends. He turns them towards the doors, slinging and arm over Hunk’s shoulders. “We’ll just go back to our room and work on it there. I’m like… a walking Altean Historian, you know. We’ll have this done in no time.” 

Pidge and Hunk look unconvinced but follow him out of the shooting range anyways. At least they have all night to work on the final project. 

Besides, how hard can it be?

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get in. Find the Red Lion. Remove it from the Galra…. Somehow. The Galra are keeping it under pretty tight surveillance, though, so even if he could get to it, he’s not too sure how to get it off the ship. It’s a simple notion, really, if it weren’t also for the fact that this was meant to be a covert mission. He can’t exactly draw any unwanted attention to himself.  

As it stands, the Red Lion’s holding bay is guarded by sentries and he doesn’t have the authorization to enter on his own. 

He has no idea what Kolivan was thinking sending him here…. 

“Yorak.” He jumps to attention as one of his commanding officers moves from behind to face him. “You know you’re not authorized to be in this sector.” 

“Sorry, sir,” he mutters. “I got lost again…” The Galra officer regards him with a look of disdain. Of course someone like him would get lost on such a big ship. Especially considering he’s only been here for a few days. The officer waves it off with a sigh. 

“Just try to not to get lost again,” he says.

“Of course, sir.” 

“It’s good that I found you, though,” he replies. “Commander Sendak has requested your presence on the bridge.” His eyes go wide, hand slowly dropping back to his side. What could Sendak possibly want? “Best not keep him waiting.” 

Yorak quickly salutes and turns away, darting off down the halls. He can only hope Sendak hasn’t caught wind of him snooping around the lion. That could only spell trouble for everyone involved. Hopefully, it’s just something else unrelated. 

Lance wakes with a start, chest tight from not breathing as his heart races. He stares up at the ceiling as images from his dream refuse to fade. They flash through his mind incessantly. He can hear the faintest rumble as he finally takes a breath and sits up. Across the room, Hunk snores softly, cuddling his teddy. 

It’d be cute if Lance could actually take a moment to focus on the scene. 

As it stands, the young prince is climbing out of bed and stumbling over to his desk. He knocks papers and notebooks off in his frantic search for a sheet of paper. 

The images won’t stop coming. 

Shiro with a scar across his face and a shocking spot of white in his hair. 

The shadow in his vision has grown more defined. 

He sees Pidge with a small, flying robot made of Galra tech. Hunk cooking some type of alien cuisine in what can only be described as a space mall food court.

He does his best to ignore it as he furiously scribbles on the blank page. 

A quick sketch of Keith with long hair and a mark on his cheek; by his side, a large wolf. 

He draws space mice performing tricks for a young, female Altean.

He scribbles five more before a large hand reaches out to stop him. 

“Dude,” Hunk mumbles. “What are you doing?” Lance blinks, and sits back in his seat. What is he doing? He stares at the pages before him. The images finally fade from his mind, lost to the depths of his consciousness. 

He rubs his eye with a frown and blinks. The shadow has taken the shape of a person, but still eludes his direct gaze. 

“I just…” he mutters. Something was pushing him to remember. To not forget whatever it was showing him. He needed to not forget. “I had to get it on paper….” 

Why does this seem so familiar? 

“I don’t….” 

What was he doing before this? 

A small gust of wind tickles at the back of his neck, stronger than it’s ever been. He shivers, brushing a hand against his neck. He looks up at Hunk.

“Did you feel that?” Hunk yawns, shaking his head as he moves back to his bed. It takes the boy a moment to process Lance’s words. 

“Did I feel what?” So… he didn’t then. Hunk would know what he was talking about if he did. It’s impossible to feel the air from the vents at their desk. There’s no way he’d feel something like that. Especially not on his neck. 

“Nothing… sorry I woke you.” So if it’s not the wind then it has to be something else… Lance sighs, rising from his seat and returning to bed. He rubs his eyes again, frowning at the shadow in his vision. 

As the young Altean, falls back to sleep, he’s hears the faintest roar and the quiet whisper of his name. 

Sendak, like most Galra, is large and intimidating. His ears give Keith the impression of bats, and his red, prosthetic eye always makes him feel like he’s being targeted. 

Even so, he enters the bridge and steps up to the Commander, standing straight with an arm across his chest. Sendak grins at him, sharp teeth on display. It’d be scary but Keith knows he can take him.

“You asked to see me, sir?” 

“Yorak,” Sendak replies, grin falling off his face as he looks Keith up and down. “I had expected to you to look…. Less scrawny.” Keith does his best not to grimace, but he’s unable to stop his ears from twitching. It’s no secret that he’s smaller than the average male Galra. He’s heard the whispers… that others thing he’s a half-breed. 

His mom is on the smaller side though, so that definitely helps curb those rumors. It would do no good for them to learn the truth…. That his father was human. He’d be cast out of the ranks much like others before him. He would be useless for undercover missions.

He’s worked too hard to get this far for that to happen. 

“Despite that,” Sendak continues. “You come to my ship with high recommendations.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sendak sneers.

“It is not a compliment, welp. Words mean nothing on this ship. It would do you good to remember that.,” he snaps before composing himself. “I have an assignment for you.” 

“What are your orders, Commander?” Keith asks. 

“We have a special… package being delivered into our possession. You are to escort the vessel to our coordinates and ensure nothing happens to it.” 

“Of course, Commander.” 

“Now go, before I change my mind about sending you.” 

“Vrepit Sa!” Keith says, saluting him once more before departing. Whatever he’s transporting must be important if they need an escort. 

Lance.

He startles, hands violently jerking the controls in his grasp. The ship rattles around them, veering wildly off course. 

“Lance!” Pidge snaps, glare at him from his spot in the back. “Try keeping the ship on course, maybe?” 

“Sorry,” he grumbles, taking a moment to steady his mind. Now really isn’t the time to be hearing things. It’s bad enough that stupid shadow won’t go away. He doesn’t need to be distracted with talking. 

Off to his left, Hunk heaves, face going pale. Lance huffs, turning his attention back to getting on course. They’ve wandered into a new area of this planet but he can just follow Pidge’s new trajectory. It looks like they’ll actually arrive early anyways. 

He’s totally got this. 

The ship appears as a small dot in the distance. Keith squints at it, wondering why such a small ship carrying important cargo is all alone out in space. Are they really that confident nobody is going to attack it? 

With a frown, he opens a transmission to the small vessel. 

“Attention, cargo carrier,” he says. “This is Yorak of Commander Sendak’s ship. I am here to escort you back to his location.” A screen pops up moments later along with a familiar face. He blinks, taking in the light blue skin, large white stripes and pointy ears of none other than a fellow Blade.

“Ulaz?” 

“Yorak,” Ulaz replies with the smallest of smiles. “It’s so nice to see a familiar face! How kind of Sendak to put us in such capable hands.” 

“What….” Why is Ulaz out here? Isn’t he a medic or something? Shouldn’t he be healing Galra somewhere? And what is he transporting that’s so important? 

“I have been tasked with transporting a very special piece of cargo,” Ulaz replies. “Perhaps you should come aboard so we can discuss in further detail.” 

Lance definitely doesn’t have this. He frowns, watching the screen from their simulation go black. Failure flashes before him in bright red letters. Pidge groans, climbing back into his seat from the floor. 

“Nice job, tailor,” Pidge grumbles, as the door to the simulator swings open. Lance unbuckles himself, sinking into his seat with a groan, trying in vain to ignore the heavy footsteps approaching him. 

“Need I remind you, cadets,” their teacher, Iverson growls. “That the purpose of these simulations is to complete them.” 

Lance huffs and gets out of his seat to be greeted with Iverson’s unimpressed scowl. He’s convinced it’s the man’s default expression. None of them have so much as seen Iverson show a different emotion. 

The young prince slinks over to join his friends in front of their teacher, frowning at the ground. 

“Why is it, then, that you three are the only ones incapable of completing even the simplest of tasks?” None of them have an answer to that…. At least, none that will be considered acceptable. It’s not that they can’t do these simulations…. Lance just has a hard time taking them seriously because he knows it’s not real. Simulations and real life are completely different. 

Still… another failed mission doesn’t look good for any of them. Lance can only imagine what his mom must be thinking. She’s going to be so disappointed in him. 

No wonder he can’t connect with the Black Lion…. 

Lance sighs, sparing a look at his friends. Hunk’s face is still pale and he looks like he’s trying in vain not to puke again. Pidge just looks frustrated. 

“You three will be pulled off simulations,” Iverson says. Lance’s attention jerks instantly to their teacher. Pulled off simulations? What is he talking about? “At least until we can reassess you all and decide the best course of action.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Pidge snaps. 

“It means, cadet,” Iverson replies. “That we have to determine whether you are truly a good fit for the program since your record seems to say otherwise.” 

“You’re kicking us out?!” Hunk squeaks. “Oh man…. I’m gonna be in so much trouble….” 

“You can’t be serious!” Pidge protests. 

“Well maybe if your pilot was able to watch his surroundings you wouldn’t be crashing so much,” Iverson snaps. Lance swallows the lump forming in his throat, eyes burning with unshed tears. Of course the blame would be put on him. Iverson isn’t finished though as he zeros in on the smallest of the trio.

Pidge meets his gaze unflinchingly; the two entering into a staring contest. Iverson sneers at him.

 “Or perhaps, Gunderson,” he says. “The navigator should have been watching the monitors more carefully.” 

“Perhaps, sir,” Pidge responds. “Blame shouldn’t be placed on one specific individual when we are a team and failed as a whole. Singling one person out doesn’t constitute camaraderie and instead perpetuates an environment of everyone for themselves.” 

Iverson’s lip curls back as he rises to his full height. Lance uses the moment to push Pidge aside. 

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he says, quickly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have gotten distracted. This was my fault and I’ll be sure to do better next time.” Iverson’s face returns to its usual scowl as he watches the Altean for a long moment. Eventually, he sighs and looks away from the trio.

“Get out of here, all of you,” he grumbles. The trio scramble to exit the space, Iverson calling after them as they go. 

“And don’t come back until you’ve learned to work as a team!” 

The transport ships ends up being larger up close than Keith was really expecting. Thankfully, that means he’s able to land his ship in the holding bay. Ulaz is waiting for him when he steps off his ship. Sentries wander about the bay, but otherwise keep a respectable distance from the pair. 

“Keith,” Ulaz greets. “It’s so nice to see you again.” 

“Why are you here?” Keith asks, eyeing the sentries. It’s a little weird hearing his real name after being undercover for so long… yet refreshing at the same time. Ulaz stares at him for a long moment. 

“Perhaps we should talk somewhere more…. Private.” Confused, Keith follows him out of the holding bay and through the halls to the bridge. Thankfully, the journey is short considering the ship is much smaller than Sendak’s. 

Ulaz turns to him the moment the doors slide shut. 

“It’s most fortunate that you were the one tasked with escorting me to Sendak,” Ulaz says. “I am transport a very important person for the Empire.” Keith watches him, trying to decipher what the Galra is talking about. Who could possibly be so important they need to be escorted in a cargo ship? Someone secret maybe…. 

“Who…” Ulaz sighs.

“Something happened about a phoeb ago,” he replies, looking away from the young boy. His face falls with sorrow. “We were told not to tell you for fear of how you may react… but I feel now there is no choice.”

“What happened, Ulaz,” Keith growls anxiously. What was so awful that they couldn’t tell him? Did something bad happen to someone? His mind reels with the possibility. Who could have possibly been hurt? 

Ulaz takes a deep breath before continuing.

“You must understand,” he says. “We chose not to tell you for the safety of everyone involved. You would have been compromised. Made rash decisions. Our mission can’t afford that.” He gazes at Keith, eyes searching his face for something Keith can’t quite identify. He’s not really sure how he’s meant to be reacting right now. If something happened that they chose not to tell him about…. 

That can only mean one thing. 

“Was it Lance?” he asks, dread washing over him. 

“No,” Ulaz answers much to Keith relief. “Shiro managed to get him away in time.” 

“Shi-” Keith’s eyes go wide, heart skipping a beat. He looks away from his fellow Blade, moving over to the wall for support. They got Shiro? Is that what Ulaz is telling him? How? He gets it now, why they didn’t want to say anything. He definitely would have dropped everything to save his former mentor. 

“He goes by the title Champion within the Galra ranks,” Ulaz says. Keith looks at him in disbelief. Shiro’s the Champion? He’s literally one of the most valuable prisoners in the Galra Empire…. And they’re delivering him right into Sendak’s hands. 

“We have to free him,” Keith says. “He needs to go back to Earth.” 

“Your mission is to remove the Red Lion from the possession of the Galra. Freeing Shiro is not part of that plan.” 

“I don’t care,” Keith snaps. “We can’t let Sendak have him…. I’ll just say you were shot down by rebels or something.” 

“Sendak would kill you for your failure,” Ulaz points out. “And if he doesn’t then Zarkon certainly will for losing his precious Champion.” 

Keith huffs, ears twitching in irritation. He knows, deep down, that he can’t compromise his position. Still… Shiro being here can’t be good. It means the Galra know of Earth. Do they know about the Alteans? Has Earth tried coming after them? Or perhaps they asked the Blade for help returning Shiro…. Who else was taken? More importantly…. How has Lance been doing without his bodyguard? 

“I have to get him back to Earth,” Keith says. “I don’t care if I can never return to the Galra. I’m getting Shiro out of here and taking him home.” 

“How?” Ulaz asks. “You know they’ll just track you back to Earth… and then what? All you efforts will be for nothing and Earth will be in the Galra’s line of sight.” 

“Well then maybe we need to take him home in something that isn’t Galra….” Keith replies. Something that he’s been tasked with retrieving. It’s a big risk and assumes the Red Lion will open for him but… it does solve the problem of removing it from the Galra. He’ll have to give him his position for awhile, but it’ll be worth it if it means Shiro can be home again. “Call Kolivan. There’s been a slight change in plans.”

Kolivan is just going to have to be on board with it. 

 “Alteans are typically a peaceful race. They tend to lean more towards diplomacy rather than turning to war. It has certainly helped the people of Earth over the centuries and assisted with maintaining overall peace,” Lance recites in a voice that is far peppier than he’s currently feeling. He’s just been having a shitty day and doing this stupid presentation isn’t helping. The constant breeze that only he can feel doesn’t help either. It’s practically full blown wind at this point and he’s about to jump out a window. 

He barely pays attention as Pidge recites his part, prattling off facts about Earth and what it might have been like if Alteans never showed up. His gaze wanders to the window, mind straying elsewhere as Pidge’s voice becomes nothing more than a distant hum. 

He blinks. 

The shadow in the corner of his vision moves. 

Confused he blinks again, and suddenly Shiro’s standing in front of him. He’s changed since the Galra took him. His right arm is made of metal and there’s a scar running across the bridge of his nose. His hair has a shock of white in it. Shiro looks at him and steps closer, reaching out to him.

Lance. 

Shiro touches his forehead. 

Lance gasps, eyes going wide as he’s suddenly transported out of the classroom and light years away from Earth. 

Wind roars around the pair, thunder rumbling in the distance as they stand together for the first time in a year. He blinks and Shiro disappears, leaving him in the hurricane force winds.

“Shiro?” Lance shouts, looking around frantically for his friend. The wind carries his voice away and grows stronger. Thunder rumbles closer to him now. He continues to look around, shouting for his lost companion, voice steadily growing hoarse. 

Lance sucks in a breath, frustration mounting. How is he supposed to find Shiro in this chaos? He can barely hear himself think! Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he squeezes them shut. He crumbles into the ball on the ground hands clutching at his hair.

The wind grows stronger, pushing him onto his knees. He just needs one moment of peace. Of quiet to just…. Just think! 

The ground shakes with a loud clap of thunder. It sounds vaguely like a lion’s roar.

Lance’s eyes fly open and he looks up. 

“Quiet,” he mutters, and the wind dies down. It parts around him as he stands. A sense of calm rushes over him and suddenly the gale is circling around him. He’s in the eyes of the storm now.

Lance looks around, listens for the thunder. It rumbles in the distance and he follows the direction of the sound. 

“Black,” he whispers. Everything stops. The Black Lion lands in front of his, eyes glowing as it meets his unwavering gaze. Lance holds a hand up to the large robot. “Show me.” 

The pair disappears in a flash of white. 

Getting Shiro onto Sendak’s ship was the easy part. With Ulaz’s help they take his sleeping body to a prison cell and leave him there. It’s weird seeing a friend out in space…. Especially one from Earth. The scar, Keith knows, he got from a fight in the Coliseum. The arm, Ulaz informed him, was a present from Zarkon’s witch. 

Haggar’s been experimenting on the human and Keith shudders to think of what’s been done to him. Everyone’s heard the rumors of her Druids and their experimentations. It’s a fate nobody wants to face. 

Keith sees Ulaz off before reporting to Sendak. He seems please that Keith managed to return Shiro but quickly shoos him off, instructing him to make himself scarce. 

Keith finds himself wandering down to the prison block before veering off towards the Red Lion’s holding bay. They can’t know he’s interested in Shiro. I would only raise suspicion and the would compromise his goals. At least walking past the Red Lion is part of his usual routine. Nobody tends to question that. 

Still though, he eventually returns to his room to figure out how to release Shiro and get him to the Red Lion without raising the alarm. 

He paces the length of the room, mulling his options over. Kolivan didn’t seem too pleased by his decision but ultimately relented under the condition he doesn’t get caught. He’s not even sure how to pull that off. One way or another though, he’s getting Shiro back to Earth. 

Keith huffs. The Blade of Marmora operates under secrecy. They don’t do things that could possibly expose him. 

“I don’t exactly have many options here,” Keith mutters to himself. How did Kolivan even expect him to take the Red Lion without being caught? Frowning, he sits on his bed and pulls out his knife. The dark blade gleams in the light, a small crystal tied around the hilt. 

Even after all these years, he’s kept Lance’s gift…. Not that he ever uses it anymore. He’s long come to terms with his heritage and grown to be proud of his Galra half. 

His Galra half because nobody in the Empire know of his human half…. And maybe it’s time to reclaim that human half.

“Hold on, Shiro,” Keith says with a grin as he removes the crystal and resheathes his knife. He stands up, plan forming in his mind. “I’m coming for you.” 

Lance stumbles back with a gasp, knocking everything off the teacher’s desk. The whole room stares at him in stunned silence. He looks around wildly, gaze landing on Hunk and Pidge.

“Come with me,” he snaps, grabbing their wrists and dragging them out of the room. They stumble after him as he picks up the pace. Soon the trio is running through the halls.

“Lance!” Pidge shouts. “What are we doing?” 

“Yeah…” Hunk replies, huffing. “As much… as I like skipping class…. Why?” 

“Something’s coming,” Lance replies, gaze focused straight ahead. “And I need both of you with me.” Hunk and Pidge share a confused look behind their friend’s back but they fall silent. 

Lance leads them right to Iverson’s office. He barges in without bothering to knock. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Iverson shouts, standing from his seat. “You can’t be in here!” 

“I come to you as Prince of New Altea,” Lance says confidently, standing tall. “By orders of Queen Ourania herself, I am declaring galactic emergency. All off planet communication and travel is officially on lockdown.” Iverson calms himself, staring at Lance for a long moment. Pidge and Hunk watch, confused and curious from outside the room. Whatever’s going on, it’s important and Lance needs them. 

“What is this about, my Prince?” 

“The Galra are coming,” Lance replies. “And I need you to take me to the Black Lion.” 

Sirens blare around him as he ducks into corners and dodges the sentries running about. Behind him, Shiro groans, clutching at his head. He’s only been awake for a few minutes but there was no way Keith could discreetly carry him to the Red Lion’s location. As it stands, his cover has been completely blown. 

The Red Lion is their only chance to get out of here alive. 

Keith watches and waits for the coast to clear before grabbing Shiro’s hand and sprinting down the hall. He halts, pushing Shiro into an alcove and he peers around the corner. Just down the way, one of Sendak’s flunkies guards the door to the Red Lion. 

He can probably take them…. Especially if Shiro gets his act together long enough to help. Keith glances back at his friend, still delirious from sleep. 

“Shiro,” he whispers. “I’m going to need your help for this next part, okay?” Shiro flashes him a thumbs up though Keith’s not too sure he actually heard. Either way, they manage to tag team the Galra and take him down in moments. Fate must be smiling on them too because Keith’s able to use the Galra’s hand to open to doors.

The Red Lion looms inside its shield, quiet and unwavering. Shiro takes a seat next to it with a sigh, head dropping between his legs with a groan. Whatever they knocked him out with is going to take a while to work through his system. They don’t have time to wait though… 

“Hey,” Keith calls up to the lion. “Open up! We need your help!” The shield remains standing. He huffs and knocks on the surface. The Red Lion ignores him. Keith growls, kicking the shield and stomping away from the stubborn creature. 

Is creature even the right word? They’re supposedly sentient…. Does that count as them being creatures? Sentient machines are a thing…. Right? 

He doesn’t know…. Nor does he care. This stupid thing needs to let them in before they’re all caught. 

“Freeze!” 

Keith jumps, spinning around to come face to face with a group of sentries. They level their blasters at him and Shiro. 

Quiznack. This is not how he wanted things to go… he eyes the bay door and the console that opens it. An idea quickly forms in his head. 

He draws his sword and charges towards Shiro just as the sentries begin shooting. Shiro jumps to his feet with a shout, alarmed to see a Galra running towards him. Keith grabs him and sprints to the console, slamming his sword into the ground just as he hits the button. 

The doors swing open, sucking the sentries into space. His sword holds for a moment but the suction and weight of him and Shiro drag them out into space. 

Keith holds his breath, eyes shifting wildly as he tries to figure out how to return to the lion. Shiro slips out of his grasp, distracting him for a split second. 

Next thing he knows, the giant maws of the Red Lion are closing around him and Shiro, and flying away from Sendak’s ship. 

Shiro gasps next to Keith, rolling off his back sluggishly. Next to him, Keith rests on his hands and knees trying to regulate his breathing. They sit in the Red Lion’s mouth, collecting their breaths before Keith attempts to stand. He wobbles to his feet and stumbles over to his companion. 

“Shiro,” he mutters, holding a hand out to help him up. Shiro take his, allowing Keith to pull him to his feet. They stare at each other for a long moment before Keith’s pulled into a crushing hug. Keith hugs him back, resting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

His hair becomes wet where Shiro’s face is buried in it. His shoulder shake with sobs. Keith doesn’t realize he’s also crying until a drop lands on his hand.  

“I’m so sorry…” Keith mumbles, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry…. I… I didn’t know… I would’ve come for you… I….” 

“It’s okay,” Shiro replies, brushing a hand through his hair. He pulls away a moment later, face tear-stained but no longer crying. “You came when it mattered and that’s enough.” Keith smiles, rubbing the tears off his face. 

He may have just blown his cover. He can’t return to the Galra or the Blade…. But he got Shiro back. They’re going back to Earth where they can be protected and find help. The Galra may come after them, but Earth will be prepared. That’s a worry for another day though. For now…. There’s only one task at hand. 

“Let’s go home.” 

His mom is waiting for them by the time they arrive at the Black Lion’s den. Iverson stops his buggy and lets the trio climb out and gather their things before driving off again. Lance watches him go before turning to his mom. A bag of this things hangs by her side.

“I see you’ve brought some friends,” she says, glancing briefly at Hunk and Pidge. “And you’ve declared an emergency. Mind telling me why?” 

“The Galra are coming….” Lance replies. “The Black Lion showed me.” Surprise flits across her face, mouth falling open slightly. She looks back at his friends and then to him. 

“And your friends?” 

“They have to come with me.” She raises a brow at that, but Lance remains firm. He knows what he saw. He won’t back down from this. Behind him, Hunk and Pidge share a confused look. Hunk is the one to step forward.

“Um… excuse me, your grace,” he says, giving a little bow. “Not that Pidge and I mind much but… what’s happening? 

“And for that matter,” Pidge chimes in. “Where are we going?” Ourania laughs a little, eyes lighting up in delight. She looks back at her son, proud that he’s made friends at the Garrison. 

“It seems my son failed to mention some details on the ride over,” she comments. “So much like his father.” She steps behind Hunk and Pidge, waving her hands at them as she ushers the trio inside. 

“Lance?” Hunk says, hesitantly steps through the doors to the den. His eyes roam up and down the cave walls. Carvings lines the inside of Alteans and lions alike. Gemstones gleam in the light, adding splashes of reds, blues, greens, and yellows to the portraits. “What’s going on?” 

“The Black Lion, it seems,” Ourania answers. “Is finally ready to accept Lance as its Paladin and you two will be joining him.” 

“Whu-” 

“We have to go fight the Galra,” Lance says, gaze focused straight ahead. Their footstep echo down the hall as they draw closer to the lion’s resting place. “And find your lions.” 

“Wait!” Hunk protests as they step into the Black Lion’s gaze. It’s shield is finally dropped, eyes lit up as it awaits the prince. “I’m not a pilot! I can’t fly a giant cat robot!” 

“Well… you better learn!” Ourania replies teasingly, shoving Hunk and Pidge towards the lion. She straightens and steps over to her son. She hands him the bag. “Extra clothes and some things for you and your friends.” 

“Thanks, mom,” Lance say with a smile, taking the offered bag. 

“There’s a communicator in there too, so you better keep in touch.” 

“We will.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she gazes lovingly at her son. She pulls him into a hug.

“You’re going to do great things,” she murmurs. “Akiva would be proud of you.” Lance sucks in a breath, eyes suddenly burning. 

“I’m going to miss you,” he murmurs back. She pulls back, placing a hand on his cheek. 

“We will all miss you,” she says. “Now go get your lions.” She places a kiss on his cheek and steps away. Lance gives her a final, sad smile before turning to his friends. 

“I know I’m dragging you into this,” he says to them. “But… this is your chance, you can turn back now. Nobody’s forced to do this.” Pidge scoffs, giving his arm a punch.

“Are you kidding? This is our chance to go into space and prove Iverson wrong,” he says. “You aren’t the only one who has business out there.” 

“Yeah,” Hunk adds before Lance can reply. “I mean… the fighting part sounds kind of scary but we’re in this together. If you… erm…. Well, I guess the Black Lion, rather, thinks we’re meant to be Paladins then who am I to argue with it? Besides… we’d be helping others, right?” 

“Thanks, guys,” Lance says, grateful to have such loyal companions.

“And don’t worry about your parents,” Ourania calls to them. “I’ll be sure they are informed of where you’re at!”  

“I guess this is it then.” Lance heft the bag onto his shoulder and looks up at the Black Lion.

The moment of truth. He takes a deep breath and steps up to the lion. There a beat, a moment, where nothing happens, and then the Black Lion crouches down, opening up for the trio. Relief floods through Lance. He’s finally being accepted. 

He takes a moment to give one final wave goodbye before entering the lion’s waiting mouth. 

The journey has finally begun. 

[thornbolts]

My Two Lives Ch. 6 - The Fall of Stormwind

-Art by Stanton Feng from World of Warcraft: Chronicle Volume 2

[Chapter 1: Westfallen Blues]

[Chapter 2: From Student to Hunter]

[Chapter 3: The Doe and the Buck]

[Chapter 4: The Day the Wardrums Came]

[Chapter 5:  Hard Times in a Harder City]

We awoke to a banging at our door. The unmistakable smell of smoke and blood wafted through the open slit in our window. I could feel a faint rumbling under my feet as explosions upset the dust on our roof, soft reverberations mixed with bone-chilling, guttural cries of battle in the distance that didn't belong to Humans.

My pops took his hatchet from the dresser and raised the weapon in preparation to strike as he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. The man behind it was a teenager, maybe not much older than I was. He dressed in light chainmail with that tell-tale blue and yellow lion on his tabard, a runner for the city guard. His breathing was ragged, and he was covered in sweat, likely from running from house to house.

"King Llane has been assassinated! All civilians are to head to the docks to evacuate! Stormwind is lost!" he yelled as he pointed westward. "Grab what belongings you can carry, and meet the guard over by the ships!"

The runner was gone before we could ask any questions, banging on our next-door neighbor's shack.

I couldn't even say a word before my mother began to stuff sentimental photographs and dried jerky in a burlap sack frantically while she loaded her six-shooter with a shaky hand. I could make out the bits and pieces of her prayers to the Light she mumbled.

Grandpa Julian whistled to my pops. "Greg, take the gun!" He tossed one of our hunting rifles over to him, and my pops caught it by the stock and chambered a bullet.

"Ya need one too, old man!" My pops yelled back, looping his hatchet into his belt and throwing his coat on.

Grandpa Julian smirked behind his grey beard. He reached under his bed, fishing out the largest double-barreled shotgun I'd ever seen. "Who do ya think I am, ya son of a bitch?"

Grandma Ash reached over to slap my grandpa before yelling over to me.

"Rem, catch!" 

I whipped my head toward her voice, and the stock of my own bolt-action my pops gave me came flying toward my face. Luckily, I caught it before barrel bonked my forehead. I chambered a round into the rifle and looped its sling across my shoulders before grabbing my fletching knife.

"We are leaving!" Before I knew it, my ma was pulling me by the wrist with the rest of my family into the street.

I whistled for Bessy. And that ever-loyal golden retriever came running to me. She whimpered as a giant boulder came howling across the sky toward our district.

"Run!" Grandma Ash yelled as she threw me out of the way. Seconds later, that boulder crashed down into the house right beside us. The impact made my ears ring as I struggled to stand and find my balance.

I looked up, and the remains of that demolished house tilted like a falling tree, caving in our own shack. Everything was on fire. More homes along our path splintered as another volley of flaming boulders slammed into them.

All of us started running, weaving through tight alleys and dodging incoming debris. The ground felt unstable, and I nearly lost my footing a couple times. The smoke was getting thicker by the second. I wet my shirt's collar with my canteen and fit the cloth over my face. Despite the filter, my lungs still burned, and I couldn't stop coughing.

An explosion detonated next to me. It was another boulder crashing down, but it felt like the earth shifted beneath my feet and slammed me onto my side. A sharp pain shot up my arm as I tried to push myself up to my feet.

"Rem!" I could make out Grandma Ash's voice through the ringing in my ears as she ran up to me. She wrapped her tight grip around my wrist and pulled me up.

As I stood, my right arm dangled at my side. I grit my teeth and shoved tears back down my eyes. "I think--I think it's broken."

"Ignore the pain fer now, hun." Grandma Ash placed her hand behind my neck and ushered me forward through the streets. I could barely keep stable without falling. My sense of balance was rattled from the explosions booming around me.

Grandma Ash looped my good arm around the back of her neck and let me lean my weight on her a bit. We couldn't afford to stop moving for long. In my daze, I remember the screaming and the battle cries echoing over the utter chaos that was now Stormwind City.

The roof of a building next to us groaned as its supports burned, toppling the entire structure over. The debris collapsed right on top of me. And I think I remember blacking out for a few seconds. I thought I was dead.

I felt heat all around me. I opened my eyes, and I was buried under flaming rubble. My breathing grew ragged. Was I trapped? I could make out Grandma Ash's voice again, calling out to me. 

“Rem! Where are ya?!” 

I tried to scream, but the rubble and roaring fires all around me muffled my voice.

I had to get out, but with a broken arm, I didn't have the strength to free myself. I thought I was a goner before I heard Bessy's barking. She knew my scent, and she followed it despite everything crashing down around her. Her barking went louder as I felt her paws push up against my good arm's shoulder.

"There!" I heard Grandma Ash's voice again.

I can confidently say that Grandma Ash is the toughest woman I know because what she did next was something that I can only describe as superhuman--maybe even a miracle.

I reached toward Grandma Ash’s blurry silhouette, plunging my hand through the blaze and fighting through burns.

"I got ya, Rem!" Hands wrapped around my wrist as she tried to yank me out of there, but the rubble was too heavy.

"Light damn it! Gimme the strength ta save my damn child!" she cursed as she circled around the rubble to me. And with her bare hands, she grabbed the underside of flaming rubble covering me and heaved up with all her might. It must have been the adrenaline, because she lifted that debris off of me and over her head like it was nothing before tossing it away and pulling me out of the burning blaze.

I could see the burns on her hands as she carried me off toward the docks. As Bessy ran beside my grandma, I'll never forget the unmistakable scent of sulfur as I turned my head to the side toward the city walls and watched the green felfire engulf the soldiers up on the battlements.

We were leaving this hellhole but not in the way I imagined.

My family was funneled into a station on the second dock by the sea-side. Soldiers were yelling and trying to herd folks onto ships. I remember hearing that bleating whistle the soldier in front of us blew as another overcrowded ship was let loose into the sea. Ships scattered across the horizon headed north.

I was half-conscious as Grandma Ash sat me up beside the water, where my family who had been in a full-blown panic looking for me. My ma tore a piece of her dress off and tied my broken arm into a sling. Her hands glowed golden as she placed her palms gently onto my forearm. I can't quite describe it, but I could feel the broken bones fitting back into their proper place. 

As the family before us stepped onto the boat, it was now our turn.

Grandma Ash stood me to my feet, looping my good arm around the back of her neck. Grandpa Julian lead our family through to the soldier stationed by the next boat.

"Where... Where’re we goin'?" I lifted my head and asked the soldier.

"Commander Lothar will be leading you all to Lordaeron," she stated as she waved us forward.

"Lordae--" before I could finish my next question, another boulder slammed into the tower by us. Bricks fell like dominos off of the building. I looked over my shoulder, and I could barely see anything but smoke and fire amongst the porcelain city. Everything was already gone.

"Go! Go! Go!" The soldier waved my family through, and we were crowded onto a small boat like sardines on a barrel. Two more soldiers opened the sail and untied the boating knot tethering us to the docks, letting us free into the ocean.

Stormwind quickly disappeared into a small, blazing speck behind us.

Bessy curled herself in my lap, whimpering as she looked up at me. I hugged my good arm around her, placing a kiss on her furry head and scratching her behind the ears. 

I glanced among the faces that shared the boat with us. There must have been two dozen of us crammed onto this small vessel. I thought we'd sink by the sheer weight.

For better or worse, we'd have to tough through sailing for refuge for the next week among the countless other boats to that strange place that soldier mentioned.

Lordaeron.

The name was completely alien to me at the time, but if it was safe, I’d take anything.

[markoftheasphodel]

Semi-blind PT#1 (Blue Lions) FE16 reactions: Game Complete!

So here’s a round-up of the inter-house deaths so far:

Black Eagles:

Bernadetta-- dead at Gronder Field

Caspar & Linhardt-- dead in that chapter they show up as enemies ‘cause I just didn’t care to spare ‘em

Dorothea & Ferdinand-- recruited.

Petra-- ended Chapter 21 before I faced her

Hubert-- ded in Chapter 21

Edelgard-- ded to end the game

Golden Deer: 

Leonie & Ignatz-- recruited

Lorenz-- ded in the chapter he shows up as an enemy commander

Raphael-- ded at Gronder Field ‘cause he wouldn’t stop killing my units

Lysithea-- survived Gronder Field, never saw her again

Marianne-- never saw her, read a fan theory suggesting she doesn’t survive the time skip if not on your team

Claude & Hilda-- survived The Golden Deer’s Plea and presumably effed off to somewhere.

Chapters 21 & 22 were pretty awful to play blind. Yay for Casual Mode, because Mercedes died in Ch 21 when a fucking Crest Beast spawned next to her and she couldn’t get away from him before Ashe arrived to save the day. Flayn got ballista’d that same chapter so I was down to Byleth as my primary healer for the rest of that battle. I had Seteth stab Hubert to show him What For.

Then Chapter 22 was more of the same with “Edelmon” tossing fireballs and that shitty Bohr mage and Meteor tomes. My support chains kept everyone alive until Dedue fell to one Meteor blast too many and then Ashe, Alois, and Dimitri his own bad self fell in quick succession. Endgame consisted of the remainder of the Faerghus Childhood Friends (Ingrid, Sylvain, Felix) surrounding Edelgard and using their mega-weapons on her while Byleth stood by to heal and lend support.

And then it was over. 

End of Blue Lions route feels like a Bad Ending, to be honest, in the “Marth if you didn’t save Tiki in FE3/12″ or “Roy if you didn’t face Idunn with the Sword of Seals” way. Yeah, you “won” and have the throne and the new unified kingdom and your peeps are alive, but there’s all this STUFF out there unresolved. Rhea gets freed offscreen and there’s no reckoning for the part where she turned into a giant fucking dragon and flew around blasting the Imperial Army or any of the rest of it. Byleth is the new archbishop but we don’t truly know what’s up with Byleth’s parentage or powers or unbeating heart or all that shit. Crest Beasts? No answer. Fucking creepy Hero’s Relics that glow and wriggle and corrupt the Crestless user? No answers. Flayn takes a Tiki-esque nap (again?). Seteth goes back to his desk job or whatever for the next few centuries. 

Oh yeah. Ashe was using Failnaught in the final battle because why the hell not-- does that mean it’ll turn him into a Crest Beast like Miklan? Like, why can I do this thing with impunity? 

I really, really loved this route, and since the other routes are available on the same disc for the same price and replay is expected the way it was for FE7 and such, I can’t say I feel ripped off by the ending the way I would feel if, say, I bought Fire Emblem: Blue Lions all by itself and now had to pay extra for the ending that actually answered any of those g-damn questions. But I am not satisfied, nor did I achieve any catharsis in Edelgard’s body sliding down Dimitri’s Relic lance. I don’t think there was supposed to be catharsis there.

Guess I gotta play Golden Deer now.

Oh yes, paired endings. How the HELL do they work? I sure didn’t get the pairings in the order I unlocked A-supports when it came to Ingrid, Sylvain, or Dimitri.

I got: 

Mercedes/Alois: the hell? Kinda cute tho.

Ingrid/Ashe: Awwww, I really did love their support line

Felix/Sylvain: They deserve one another TBH

Dimitri/Annette: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? OTOH, it’s cute and sweet and I like the part about Annette introducing wise counsel and revolutionary policies to the court because she was a little iconoclast in a less-abrasive way than Felix.

And I got Byleth/Gilbert, I mean Byleth/Gustave, so I guess my Avatar is kinda-sorta Dimitri’s stepdad-in-law now? That’s a way of keeping Kingdom and Church close, lol. Anyway, Gustave took his hair down for Byleth and promised to “protect Byleth’s smile” and we all know what that means in old-school coded Fire Emblem, right? 

I’m guessing they figured anyone remotely interested in S-supporting Gilbert was a veteran who’d think “Oh yeah, I have a very own Devoted Knight at my side to Protect My Smile!” and be OK with that instead of a legit 2019 gay marriage.

It halfway worked. ;P

[squirenonny]

Hey :) Just saw a swap au by a very talented artist (iacediai) and idk if you already know about it, but I'd loooove to read your thoughts! Have a nice day/evening/night!

Ahh! Yes! I’ve seen that post. It’s actually sitting in my drafts waiting to be queued, because I p much add things to my queue in batches of 100-200 about once a month. (Here’s a link for anyone who’s not sure what we’re talking about.)

First of all, A++ designs, I love them so very much. Loverboy Hunk and Sunshine Pidge are probably my favs, but I love them all.

I don’t have thoughts specifically about that role swap combination, but a while ago I saw pepplemint’s role-swapped!Lance art, and boy did that give me ideas. Specifically for a limited role swap AU where the only real *swap* is that Lance went to Kerberos in Shiro’s place.

Lance and Keith trained under Shiro after graduating from the Garrison. They were rivals, not least of all because Keith and Shiro were so obviously friends that Lance felt ignored outside of training

Shiro was originally supposed to pilot for the Kerberos mission but was in a car crash or something similar that injured his arm to the point he needed to have it amputated. This was, like, six months before launch, so at first the mission is just delayed–there’s no one to take Shiro’s place, and everyone at first is hoping that if the Garrison pays for the top of the line prosthetic maybe Shiro will still be able to go. (After all, they’ve already pumped so much money into this mission and into Shiro specifically.)

But Shiro’s recovery is slow, and PTSD + reduced dexterity mean he just can’t fly at the same level as before. So the Garrison decides they’re going to find a new pilot and have Shiro train them, since he knows better than anyone what this mission is going to require.

This is about the time the show would have started–one year after the original launch date. And the Garrison needs some gimmick for the media to “salvage” the mission from a PR standpoint. Shiro was literally the face of the Kerberos mission, and the public is more concerned about his recovery than the Garrison’s expedition (which is… you know, a good thing? But the Garrison cares about the publicity. They want the Kerberos mission to drive recruitment and all that.)

So they go to the next graduating class of fighter pilots and say, “Hey, guess what? One of you is going to be the youngest solo pilot in history, and you’re going to go farther than anyone else has ever gone. Ready? Cool. Now duke it out for your spot on this crew.”

(In more PR-friendly terms, obviously, but that’s the intent.)

Keith and Lance are the two top contenders, so both get to undergo training with Shiro. They’ll both have the full training, just in case there’s another car accident or something, and the Garrison is running it almost like a reality show, getting the public invested in the Big Question of Who’s going to pilot the mission???

The decision is ultimately Shiro’s, and he’s as pissed off about the spectacle of it as Keith is. (Lance, conversely, is absolutely loving the attention.) He doesn’t know what the public opinion is, and frankly, he doesn’t care. (It’s about 60-40 favoring Lance, but the Garrison bigwigs are split the opposite way, because Keith is Iverson’s golden boy the same way Shiro was–just a little less inclined to put up with bullshit.)

Lance is sure Shiro’s going to pick Keith. Frankly? So is Keith. Both of them are shocked when Shiro picks Lance.

Lance and Keith have a big fight after it’s announced, and they didn’t talk once in the last month before launch.

It’s now about two years later than canonverse–Lance is 20 for most of the mission, but they launch when he’s still 19, purely for the headline “Teen Pilots Landmark Mission to Kerberos”

The Galra still attack, and the disaster still goes down in history as pilot error.

Pidge didn’t have to sneak into the Garrison–she entered openly a year before the mission launched, has her own crew, and is the top communications cadet in the Garrison. She wants to wreck shit when Sam, Matt, and Lance are declared dead, but Shiro talks her down. (He stayed friends with the Holts even after he was removed from the mission, and through him Pidge knows Keith.)

So Pidge takes a week or two off from classes to grieve and to talk with Keith, both of them stoking the flames of their anger. Pidge doesn’t buy the official story and when she returns to classes she starts hacking the Garrison computers–secretly–looking for the truth.

Keith, in contrast, fully believes Lance was at fault and blames him for killing Pidge’s family. He doesn’t think any of them survived, and he has no outlet for his anger, so he starts going on long flights into the desert–which is where he stumbles upon the Blue Lion’s cave.

Hunk graduated along with Keith and Lance, having been Lance’s engineer as in canon. He spent the year/year and a half after graduation working on Garrison ships, but when Lance “dies” he quits and opens a restaurant/gets a job as head chef at a restaurant instead. He can’t stand working at the place that reminds him of his best friend.

Shiro is a regular patron at Hunk’s restaurant, and the two are pretty good friends, all things considered. He knows Pidge and Keith distantly–Keith mostly as “Lance’s rival who’s actually a pretty cool guy” and Pidge as “Shiro’s friend who’s always on her computer looking at technical diagrams.”

Pidge and Keith both wind up at the crash site in the desert as they do in canon. Lance has visible scars and a white streak in his hair, but he has a cybernetic eye and maybe a prosthetic leg, too, instead of the arm Shiro has. Keith and Pidge break Lance out mostly to get answers about the Holts, and once they have him, they kind of panic because, hello, they’re now fugitives.

Keith calls Shiro and tells him exactly nothing except that Lance is at their shack in the desert. Shiro was at Hunk’s restaurant when he got the call, and Hunk overhears. He rips off his apron and demands that Shiro bring him along, so the five of them are once more all together in the Blue Lion’s cave when she chooses Shiro.

Shiro still kind of thinks of himself as Lance’s mentor and it takes a while for them to get used to the changes. Because Shiro is still happy and mostly healthy and he wants to protect the younger paladins, Lance especially, but he can’t deny that Lance is far more suited to protecting the rest of them. He knows the enemy, he has practice fighting, he’s a scary good sniper and just as deadly in the heat of battle. Lance ultimately becomes the team’s leader, while Shiro acts as their emotional support.

There’s also friction among the younger paladins–a much deeper rooted conflict between Keith and Lance than in the show, and Pidge’s festering resentment about the Kerberos mission (she knows it’s not Lance’s fault, but she and Keith fueled each other, so she can’t quite let it go). Hunk is 100% on Team Lance, so he initially doesn’t get along well with Keith or Pidge, and Lance just isn’t interested in repairing bridges other people burned for him. It falls to Shiro to play peacemaker and get them all on the same page.

And yeah, idk where the plot goes from there except more or less the same way canon goes, but there’s lots of angst. ^.^’

[captainkurosolaire]

Ch.2 ~ Fading

[/// ♫ No One ♫ \\\] A direct Sun passed the Spiraler as often wouldn’t be known cease; a row of three colossal seafaring vessel's were encapsulating themselves they banded the flag of red. Coated crimsons the navy’d oppressors of freedom gave pursuit to a singularly ship of a pirated flag of black as the winds tussled each respective representing personality. Kicking open a cabin’s door gasping of breath from running in the commotion the outnumbered, “Cap’n! They’re closin’ n’.” A change in dynamics and shifts in the alteration of the pirate made him feel as if a weight was placed upon his shoulders. This chip was not that of selfish designs, It was coated in that of failures those that broke leaders and saw them to lose the foundations of all. One slipped trip up led to this chase a heist gone array unlike their normal affairs that had often led to adrenaline rushes and pikes now they were running off empty-handed.

A shift of studded leather boots and a man stripping himself of his own free-formed self, broken. From collar to ankle a suit and tie adorned his former scraggy look actually combed and conditioned. “Deploy th’ powdered kegs, get out lad from outta crow’s nest.” As the command was being issued as it sounded like they would go to full-on to a bloody unforgivable battle to decimate. A follow-up, ”When the diversion hits, sound the retreat...This was entirely uncharacteristic for him to play it so safe and know the cards dealt. Typically recklessness and the risk of unnatural luck often floated him with his charisma this Captain seemed considered simply only on preservations of his men. The most loyal of crew pirates would fuss up his current right hand on this voyage, “Cap’n... Our men... Th’ bastard’s caught three em back at port! Ar ye serious?!” Dumbfounded but considerably sensing something was wrong the crew had been muttering among themselves something never seemed right ever since his disappearance and chase for his eldest of mateys that had seen to them since the don of the original foundations of this crew who was taken a Moon nearly ago t’ his possessed curse. The Cap’n traveling to the Void n’ back facing against a threat and in an atmosphere that only started festering seed of corruption in the dark inner world of his already making. The ‘Undeserving’ Cap’n gave a serious look in frustrations knowing the situation clearly, “Ye heard me, now signal. Or I’ll find another without repeating me. We’ll get our blokes back but now we’re settlin’ beaten gotta pick our fights, mates.” Slamming his hand on the table to speed up his matey who would stop being a bumbling fool as they were being enclosed on almost nearing a squash and rammed. The crew ran to the hulls and brought up special powder kegs. In the center of the kegs were a specific clever insertion that split the keg to two-departments. When enforcing force or another rivalship waved over and crushed it. A trap sprung in a form of an explosion from gunpowder colliding with a small encasement of vial embers sealed in cubicles. It didn’t take much only the pressure of a vessel to smash into it to set it off. The crew threw and pushed out from all directs and lifted nearly twenty kegs off their ship which cause the vessel to rock and shift while they lost the hauled weight specifically in situations for pursuit. They had massed entire landmines on the Lominsan waters. Hearing impactful explosions aloud and getting a few hits in. The rival sturdy ships would be damaged or have to navigate around taking a considerable amount of momentum. In that time the ship of pursuit would be gone from the leeway straight shot. He left his quarterly chambers his lion-tipped tail steering the wheel, a spyglass pulled out as he wasn’t even focusing ahead. Inside the lens, he’d see the captured fellows of his crew being sailor knotted and bound to the mainmast in the center of each their ship. Muttering and whispering only distinctly to himself, <We’ll get ye back.> He said with convicted certainty. A crewmate furious and questioning the Cap’ns decision to pull outran up and grabbed him by his shirt’s collar and lifted him up as the size difference was immense between the Roegadyn and Miqo’te, “What t’ bloody hells is wrong witha’ they pissants got me brotha!” Shaking and trying to understand the rhyme but the spit and reaction was that of and overwhelmed and believed mourning believing his sibling and fellows would be visiting the gallows. His voice being lowly cut from the strangulation costing a bit more air but a respond made, “Ts not th’ time. We shall be victorious. Our downfall has always been nah knowin when t’ pull out. Lost th’ battle tonite, not our war...”  The grip loosened before the Sea Wolf slammed his fist into the decks in a fit before storming off. The Captain slumping down and falling against his back heaving with his ribs and looking into the skies. His sightseeing what was the known clear-blue skies to a hazel a muggy cloud as if a storm was inside his optical only the clouds were filled in tar. He was losing the foundations of what he once was... He lacked the answers. They surrounded him, but still, his thieving hands emptied, pockets equally matching in relation. What is left. Who is left? No One.

                                             The Second                                          Death & Coming

Prologue - The Black Sunset Ch 1 - Spiraling

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder Ch. 4

A/N: Aight so boom: I hope y’all are enjoying this series so far. It’s definitely pushing me out of my fluffy comfort zone. Thanks to everyone who I’ve annoyed had be my third pair of eyes and offered suggestions for these chapters. I appreciate y’all big time. Also, I apologize for the two-week gap between the chapters. I just started school after a semester break, so I’m trying to get adjusted and find my rhythm. Thanks in advance for being patient!

Word Count: ~2.9K (a hair lengthy)

Warning(s): Angst, slow burn, plot progression

Thursday, October 23, 2014, 2:19 p.m., Elements Natural Hair Boutique, Los Angeles

Since she was finally finished with the nearly four month long legal project, Yaa now had a little over a week left in sunny California to do whatever she wanted. Tonight was her self-appointed reward for knocking the project out of the park and earning more clients. The Los Angeles chapter of the Black Yale Alumni Association was hosting their annual fundraising gala. All the BYAA chapters hosted their events the same weekend, the Connecticut event being the flagship event. Around this time last year, Yaa was preparing her ensemble for the Black Ball, totally oblivious to the fact that she would meet her soulmate at the Ball. What a difference a year makes.

“So, who are you taking as your plus one tonight?”, her loctician Nadia inquired as she intricately palm-rolled Yaa’s copper hued locs.

“Matt.”, Yaa announced giving a smirk as she kept reading the latest issue of Essence Magazine. Nadia’s eyebrows went up as she smirked.

“Damn hussy. Speaking of exes, how’s it going with you and Island Boy?”

“Things are getting...better.”

Since her breakdown, Khalida had seen a therapist. Her therapist recommended that for her sake,it’d be best to talk to Winston and try to establish a sturdy friendship. They planned to meet the afternoon after the Yale gala.

“Word? I’m happy for you, sis. Even more, you deserve someone in your life. Shit, you got the personality, smarts, and the looks to have niggas running over each other to get to you.”

Yaa spent the time under the dryer to think about what her loctician said. Her deep thoughts were interrupted with an incoming FaceTime call from Matt.

“Hey, lil ugly.”, Matt playfully chided.

“Well, if it isn’t the NECKS big thing in football. What’s good?”, Yaa snapped back. Matt’s jaw dropped when he finally processed her insult.

“Damn, fuck you, Khay. Anyways, I called to see where we would get ready at? My house or yours?” She almost didn’t hear the last question because she was snickering so.

“Well, according to the GPS, it’s in Calabasas, so I’ll be coming to you. My makeup cases are in the car now and I’m picking my dress up on the way.”

Matt shook his head, “Say less, ma. You getting those serpents tamed for the gala, I see.” He thought that the funniest thing in the world. Before he could say anything else, she hung up. I ain’t got time for his no-neck having ass.

5:00 p.m., Calabasas, California, Matt’s House

Yaa was welcomed into Matt’s spacious mansion with the sounds of hip-hop bouncing off the walls and an excited Matt embracing her.

“You look like you getting ready to fight somebody.”, Matt commented as he took the garment bag from his ex-girlfriend’s arms. She wore her smaller black bonnet, along with a Tuskegee shirt, black yoga capris, and Birkenstock’s.

“And you look like you can’t change a goddamn pillowcase. I keep telling you to leave well enough alone, Griffith.”, she replied as she gave him the “Who gon check me, boo?” look. He shook his head as he led her upstairs to his bathroom.

——

The lion-like revving of Matt’s Karma Revero engine could be heard all along the winding Calabasas back road he decided to take to the gala. He effortlessly finessed the bends and sharp turns of the road in an effort to impress Yaa. He’d had the car for not even a month and was already showing off. He occasionally glanced at the meal that sat in his passenger seat.

“I think I already told you, but you lookin’ hella delicious, ma.”, Matt complimented.

“Why, thank you, Matthew. I try to be as fresh as you.”, she humbly replied.

He took her hand into his and smiled before kissing it. “What’s that perfume you got on? It’s intoxicating.”

“Your cologne.”, she stated bluntly. The two looked at each other and laughed obnoxiously.

“You never cease to amaze me after all these years, Khay. I’m gonna miss you when you leave.”

“Nigga, I ain’t dying. Ima be around when and if I can. R E L A X.”

8:49 p.m., Calabasas Country Club

If you didn’t know that this was an alumni fundraising gala, most would assume that it was an actual Hollywood event. The sound of camera shutters, camera people shouting at those melanated beings gracing the carpet, and the numerous interviews being conducted at the end of the carpet set the vibe of the night. Once again: Black Excellence.

Matt parked his car in front of the country club, he tossed the keys to the valet before reaching for his velvet maroon blazer. Before the valet driver could get in, he stopped him. “Hold on, boss. I got precious cargo in the passenger seat.” He ran over to Yaa’s side where he slowly opened her door. She offered her hand and he helped her out of the car, gathering her train with his other hand.

The BLUE carpet went up the moment Matt Griffith and his date walked onto the carpet. He held Yaa close to him by her waist as they went down the carpet once more as a duo.  She followed suit by tickled his side, causing him to laugh.

“You gon stop, ma’am.”, he warned as she joined in his laughter.

————

Winston was wary of bringing Michelle to the gala. Not because she wasn’t Black, but he was nervous Yaa would show up looking like God’s divine example of perfection. For the small amount of time Winston and Michelle dated, he never divulged the details of his previous relationship with her. For one, it still hurt to talk about the biggest mistake he’d ever made; and two, he feared Michelle would get extremely jealous. Truthfully, Winston hoped Yaa would be there; he wanted to talk and possibly get closure.

“Winston, is Lupita coming?”, Michelle asked shaking Winston out of his thoughts.

“Uhhh...last I checked, she should be here now.”, he replied.

“Is your mysterious ex coming?”

He throat tightened and palms began to sweat. “I doubt it; she’s in D.C. by now. Why?”

“I mean, from the little you’ve told me about her,  she’s a Yale grad and a traveler. Speaking of, why don’t you talk about her?”, she folded her arms in anticipation of the answer.

He probably wasn’t in reality, but he felt like he was sweating bullets. “It’s just that...the relationship could’ve ended on better terms.”, he sighed, “I just need closure, is all. I’ve been spending this time processing everything. I think I’m good now.” He was lying like all hell.

Winston felt a presence in the room. He and Michelle migrated around the venue talking and socializing with the other Black Yale grads. While in a conversation with one of his classmates and Lupita, he heard a laugh. Not just any laugh; the only vibrant, contagious social laugh he could recognize from miles away. Once again, it was her. He resisted the urge to look for her.  

Noticing her friend’s sudden switch in energy, Lupita turned around to see a foxy Yaa dazzling for all to see. She excused herself from the conversation and walked over to Yaa. She tapped her shoulder.

“Heyyyyy, Khalida!”, Lupita greeted with a grin and open arms.

“Well, hello there, Ms. Academy Award Winner! I’m surprised you’re not like polishing your Oscars or filming.”, Yaa joked as she returned the hug. “You look phenomenal, Peet!”, she twirled Lupita around to get a better look of her blue ensemble.

“Not as phenomenal as you! Wow, you know how to slay anything and I’m here for it!”

Matt cleared his throat. “You need a cough drop?”, Yaa asked in a sarcastic tone. He gave her a look.

“I’m sorry. I forgot he was here. Lupita, this is my ex, Matt Griffith, NFL star. Matt, this is the most beautiful woman in existence and Academy Award-winning actress, Lupita Nyong’o.”

After their exchange of pleasantries, Lupita took Yaa to the side to inform her that Winston was also in attendance...with Michelle. As much as it hurt to hear those words come from Lupita’s mouth, Yaa sucked it up and the two returned to Matt.

“We’re going on a field trip, Matt. Come along.” Lupita commanded. Matt agreed and followed his date with her train.

Winston wasn’t paying attention; he was walking around talking with Michelle. He accidentally bumped into Lupita.

“Peet, I’m so sorry. I was talking to Michelle and wasn’t paying attention to...wh-where I...was...going.”, his thoughts and heart rate began to speed up as he looked at the sight in front of him: his ex-girlfriend.

“Hey, Khalida.”, Winston said calmly.  

“Hey, you.”, she basically whispered in a sultry tone.

“You look...sublime.”

“Oh? Interesting word choice, Mr. Duke.” She raised her eyebrow and gave a faint grin. Poor Winston was intoxicated with Khalida’s presence once more—a drug that he could never get out of his system even if his life depended on it. His eyes were fixed on her, breath staggering.

Yaa’s dress was everything: it was a black, long-sleeved, sequined, floor-length curve-hugging gown with a dramatic “v” neck that accentuated her well-endowed chest. A haute Morticia Addams. Nadia styled her locs into a mid bun with a pinned bang.  

Michelle looked on as they conversed. It clicked—Khalida was the one that still had his heart. She wasn’t stupid; she could sense he was holding out in their relationship in more ways than one. Michelle cleared her throat loudly to break up the two former lovers’ sappy reunion.

“Winston, aren’t you going to introduce me to your...friend? ”, Michelle said with a slightly condescending tone, looking Yaa up and down with disgust. Yaa returned a rather unbothered stare to Michelle.

“Oh...of course, Winston began clearing his throat, “Yaa, this is my girlfriend, Michelle Lee, freelance journalist. Michelle, this...this is my...ex...girlfriend, Dr. Khalida Abdullah, Attorney at Law.”, he fought a smile.

Michelle grimaced. “Oh, a lawyer, you say? What kind of lawyer? Whose firm do you work for?”, she interrogated.

“I’m a civil rights attorney and I have my own firm with my partner and best friend from Yale Law.”

“Your own law firm? You look a little too young to own anything. How old are you?”

“Grown.”

“Did you even hear the quest—“

“— Loud and clear. I said I’m grown.” Yaa maintained her calm, yet petty demeanor throughout the unnecessary exchange. All the while, Matt and Lupita exchanged glances and silent snickers. Yaa was going to hold her own without hesitation. The Louisiana Reaper v. the bell pepper. “Winston, may I speak with you in private please?”

Winston looked to an upset Michelle that just waved her hand for him to go on. “After you, Dr. Abdullah.”,he calmly suggested as he motioned her to go in front of him.

Winston made sure to hold Yaa’s train. Winston became entranced as he watched his ex’s Spanx-less bottom switch from left to right. He felt a sweat come over him. Baby girl still had him sprung. They finally walked out to the balcony. The nighttime October breeze hit Yaa’s bare skin, sending goosebumps throughout her body. The bass still bumped even outside the country club. Even with the low lighting on the balcony, Yaa’s dress still sparkled in the moonlit sky. The two stood across from each other. A lot was on their minds and rightfully so. Four months had gone by without any sense of closure. The lack of closure was pacified with many questions, hypotheses, what-if situations, and many, many tearful nights on both ends.

“So uhh—“, the former lovers said in unison. They chuckled.

“You go first.”

“No, you!”

“No...you.”

“Dammit, Winston, somebody going first.”, Yaa said crossing her arms. “I just wanted to say that one, I miss you. Two, I’m happy for you finding Michelle. Lastly, LEMME FOUND OUT YOU OUTCHEA ACTIN YA ASS OFF ON PERSON OF INTEREST, MINI!”, Yaa hyped. She playfully punched his shoulder. There was a visible shift in her body language. She re-adjusted her posture and looked down at her dress. When she looked back up at Winston, he saw a rather stoic expression come across her face. “No, but...I wanted to just speak with you in private and I’m sure you’ve wanted the same. I miss you, Chris.”

Before he spoke, Winston offered his jacket to Yaa, an offer she accepted.

“I miss you more, Yaa.”, Winston replied quickly.

“The four months that we’ve had apart have had me thinking...a lot...a little too much. While the circumstances of our break-up hurt me more than anything, I don’t harbor any ill-will or harsh feelings towards you. I still care for and love you deeply.”

The admission gave Winston a temporary sense of relief. After four long months apart from the love of his life, it was definitely a relief to know that she didn’t want to push him over the balcony ledge. However, that feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the familiar void feeling in his heart—a void left by Yaa. He missed her more she would ever comprehend. He even missed her sarcasm and readings. By this time, he stood in front of her studying her stoic facial expression.

“I still love and care for you, too, Khalida.”, Winston replied.

“Which brings me to my next point”, she began. Winston’s brows furrowed in confusion, “This time apart has also given me the opportunity to contemplate our relationship from this point forward. My therapist...recommended that I reach out to you to establish something we never had—an actual friendship.”, Yaa explained. There was a steady pause and sharp exhale before the word “friendship” left her lips. It hurt her to see Winston with Michelle and even more to not be with him.

Winston blankly stared at Yaa. He saw, heard, and comprehended every word coming out of her Ruby Woo painted lips, but everything wasn’t registering.

“Friends?”

“That’s what I said. I believe we can work as friends and support each other despite our ending. You and Michelle seem like you all are getting into a rhythm and I don’t want to be your hindrance in your loving her.”

“Ok. Yeah...friendship? No problem.”, he noted dryly.

“Winston?”

“Yes?”

“Is that what you truly want? Because I don’t want to let our connection die.”

Winston shifted his weight and sighed before laughing. “Doesn’t want our connection to die...got it. Of course, we can work on a friendship.”, he remarked in a condescending tone. He was repeating that made him lose Yaa the first time. Yaa finally picked up the hints of sarcasm.

“Winston, I don’t know why you’re being condescending and cold towards me, but you need to stop. I just came to talk and try to amends with you and salvage what little we have left between us.” Yaa felt herself getting emotional and angry simultaneously.

Winston began pacing. “Oh, now you want to talk to me when it seemed easy to give me...give us up?!”

Yaa’s eyebrows flew up and her jaw dropped. Her heartbeat began increasing and her petite frame began to tremble—she was beginning to see red. Her mouth opened to snap, but it quickly closed to save his ego and feelings. “I don’t want us to end on this note...again.”, she mumbled.

“I don’t know what you from me, Yaa. This isn’t exactly easy so stop making it look like that.”

Yaa thought long and hard on her next statement. Being a known wordsmith, she had to craft what she was going to say to make sure it would stick with Winston. That and her anger was on 100, so one wrong move and she’d snap. She finally began to speak barely above a whisper but not quite at normal speaking level.

“What I wanted from you was to make sure the plane wasn’t still malfunctioned. But...I see that it’s temporarily disabled. Whenever you get your head and your ego out of your ass, we can talk. The number won’t change. Good night, Mr. Duke.”

She briskly walked back inside of the country club, fighting tears and the urge to break down once more. She wasn’t going to force a grown ass man to do right; Khadijah and Carrie taught her better than that. Once again, his mouth and his ego ran Yaa off. Fuck, whatever happened to doing better and winning her back? The second walk-out hurt more than the first. This time, he was actually angry with himself. Out of nowhere, his fist made contact with the concrete wall. He roared out in pain as his knuckles bled. Not only was his hand in pain in excruciating pain, but so was his heart. Both injuries could’ve been prevented had he just shut up. The tears burned and clouded his eyes as he cried hysterically.

Yaa returned to find Lupita and Matt deep in conversation, Michelle was sitting down at one of the lounge tables. Right away, Matt noticed his date’s rather bubbly and sweet spirit had been messed with.

“Khay, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?”, Matt placed his hand at the small of her back as he studied her visibly upset face. She was fighting back tears.

“Everything’s not ok. Let’s just go before I’ll need to dig Johnnie Cochran up from the dead.” Peet, I’ll text you whenever I can. Lunch is still on for tomorrow.”, she muttered in a monotonous tone.

Matt found himself running after his date as she angrily walked out of the venue. The plane was totaled.

Tag List:

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @theunsweetenedtruth @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @oshasimone @vibranium-soul @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @supersizemeplz @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[rageragethedyingofthelight]

S5 prediction

Real Shiro comes back and they discover Kuron is a droid - but instead of destroying him the team reprograms him so instead of being functional he just quotes vines whenever he's given a command?

- "Hey Kuron, what's my name?"

- "You're Lance - but you asked me to call you vagina vagina vagina vagina vagina vagina - "

- Lotor walks into the command room and Kuron yells "HI WELCOME TO CHILI'S" and Lotor just snaps because he's heard it so many times but he just doesn't understand

- Lotor: *throttling Kuron* WHAT IS THIS CHILI'S AND HOW DID I GET THERE - ILL TELL YOU EVERYTHING IF YOU JUST E X PL A I N THIS CHILIS TO ME FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY

- Kuron doesn't respond, only makes the weird saxophone bit

- Lotor is having a nervous breakdown

- Hunk: hey Kuron pass the screwdriver-

Kuron: *short circuits* whATS UP ME AND MY BOYS ARE GOIN TO SEE UNCLE KRACKER

- everyone sends him around the castle just to piss each other off

- Kuron, at 4am while everyone is sleeping: I smell like beef, I smell like beef, I SMELL LIKE BEEEEEEEEF

- it was all Matt's idea

- Pidge programmed every single Brandon Rogers vine into Kuron's memory

- Zarkon: *via comm link* Paladins, I will recapture Voltron -

Kuron: FUCK OFF JANET IM NOT GOING TO YOUR FUCKIN BABY SHOWER

- Zarkon is now under the belief that there is a sixth paladin named Janet

- Kuron goes missing. The whole ship is in a panic, thinking the Galra have somehow recaptured him and are harvesting data from his memory.

- Coran: Where is Kuron?

- Kuron's voice, echoing hauntingly through the castle vents: I'm just chilling....in Cedar Rapids....

- Shiro: All right, team. I know it's been hard. Bringing down the galra is going to be a long road with hard work ahead of us -

- Kuron: *all the way from the lounge* ROAD WORK AHEAD? UH YEAH I SURE H O P E IT DOES

- Allura: *at a gala she's hosting on the castle ship for diplomats* hello, allies of Voltron. We are so pleased to welcome you to-

- Kuron; *screaming* hi WELCOME TO CH I LIS

- Lotor: *breaks his glass*

- Later, at the same gala: "Kuron? What the hell are you doing?" "Bout to drink this nunvil down the hatch"

- Matt becomes the meme translator

- Shiro: *commanding from the castle ship*: all right, team - you need to sneak onto level three and capture the main control room. How many sentries are guarding that door?

- Kuron: *spying* I stuck a whole bag of jellybeans up my ass

- Matt: he says two on the left, one at the control panel

- *galra attack on the ship, everyones fighting. General chaos*

- *kuron wanders in, confused*

- Kuron: can i please get a waffle

- Shiro: *disappears again. Keith is still with the blade. They're all standing around the black lion and it won't accept a paladin.*

- Kuron: so no head?

Credit to @mysteriouspinkgiraffe

Feel free to add more!

[withthecherrytrees]

Guardian Ch. 2

Return to the Mountain

See, they return; ah, see the tentative

Movements, and the slow feet,

The trouble in the pace and the uncertain

Wavering!

Ascha’s steps were tentative. This had not been done before. This— this returning. The pair of them had not yet been in the same place twice. When Aüle granted them their form and freedom, Ascha and Imya had vowed to ride swiftly and far to see the hidden corners of Middle Earth. They hadn’t yet turned back.

And now, Imya was laying eyes again upon the Mountain, the place where she had completed her last Task for Aüle, where she had saved the Lion, the Hunter, and the Oak from doom.

Thorin Oakenshield had said she would always be welcome, Imya reassured herself. Dwarves weren’t ones to make empty promises. Yet, the strangeness of the return filled her body, and Asha grew anxious below her.

Imya shushed the great stallion, stroking a hand through his shadow mane.  

The pair had passed by the city of Dale, which was still slowly rebuilding. They had seen at a distance the beginnings of a bustling city, the merchants were returning, the ruins and rubble were being moulded back into their former glory. The people seemed tired, weary, but full of hope. It filled Imya’s heart to see it so.

Yet they hadn’t entered the city. Another time, another day, perhaps. But Imya and Ascha were off-kiltered enough by their return to a place of battle, a place of a mission, to consider entering a crowd, and poking their noses where they certainly hadn’t been invited back.

Better to forge on straight to Erebor.

Imya had yet to come up with a plausible reason for her return. No matter, she had about a league left, before she’d near the questions of the guards of Erebor.

She could not explain it herself, but since the Battle of the Five Armies, when she and her horse of shadow had vaulted over friend and foe alike with Aüle’s strength giving them wings, some tug, some pull had not left her being. Some sense of incompleteness, that some danger, some threat had not yet passed the Durins by.

Imya had sent for Aüle’s guidance, had waited, listened, for the Stone to confirm, to deny, for anything. It seemed Aüle did not know more than she, for He had not deemed her prayers worthy of a reply. A prideful one, was He.

But wrong her instincts never were, and so she and Asha had flitted back along the banks of the Long Lake with the Lonely Mountain growing ever larger on the horizon.

She fell in soon with Dwarrow carts and merchants, ponies and caravans, traders and wanderers, all of whom hoped to partake in the prosperity of the reclaimed Kingdom.

Ascha received more than a few suspicious glares, as his massive hooves and height far outshone any of the rather stodgy looking ponies of the Dwarrow. Not to mention the looks the Dwarrow then gave Ascha’s rider, as if taking it as a personal insult that she should deign to sit so highly upon her stallion, when she was barely taller than they.

But Imya had chosen to arrive in day, unwilling to mask her arrival in the cover of darkness and shadow as she had last time. That was a time of War, this of Peace. She would conduct herself appropriately.

At last they neared the gates. The stone Dwarves stood guarding the Mountain, Aüle’s, no Mahal’s touch pervading every inch of their rock. Every Dwarrow slowed, in awe, in thanks, in honor of their forefathers.

“Halt, Stranger!”

Ah, yes.

Time to explain herself.

The guards stepped up to Ascha, their glowers not lacking in vigor, despite only reaching Ascha’s flanks. Their heavy beards, the weapons dripping off them, and the matching scowls they wore belied the strength that Erebor had ripped back from Smaug.

“Good morning”, Imya said, as politely as anything. It was an odd feeling, to present herself to someone during a time of peace, with no clear nor imminent danger looming. The lack of urgency unbalanced her.

Her greeting went unrequited. “Who are you? Dismount and identify yourself.”

She obeyed. In one smooth motion, she slipped like black water from Ascha’s back, a hand on his flanks to steady him, to steady her.

She dropped her hood.

“My name is Imya. This is Ascha.”

Their faces did not change. They might even have glowered with more effort.

For some reason, Imya was disappointed. She had not realized she’d hoped for Oakenshield to spread word of her deeds, at the very least to his guards. For the first time, she began to doubt the sincerity of his promise. You are always welcome here at the court of Erebor. Surely a welcome guest should not be met with such suspicion.

Ascha’s warm breath huffed over her side as he nudged her, as if to say Peace. They mean no insult. Dwarrow are suspicious folk.

She tried again. “I am Imya, of the Battle of the Five Armies. Your King would have me be welcomed to the Mountain.”

Perhaps she had grown a little imperious in her time as the Hand of Aüle. Though a Wanderer far more often than a Guardian, she did not enjoy being turned away.

The Dwarf guards regarded her, regarded Ascha, and each other. They stepped away for a moment, conferring. Imya caught hushed whispering, a snippet that sounded like “Izrî Balin!”.

“Come with us,” the taller of the two said.

Horse and Rider did go with them. Now escorted by armed officials of the Mountain, the stream of travelers parted around the group as fluidly as sand through an hourglass.

They passed through the gates, and Imya felt the Sigil Thrum. It Thrummed with Aüle’s power, His presence, His Maker’s hands that had forged this Kingdom, and she felt the weight of His Sigil more deeply than ever before.

If she had ever doubted that her Wanderer’s life was a dream of comfort in the long dark night, and that she might wake up again to desert air, she did not do so now.

The walls of Stone soared up, higher than she had ever believed. The rugged stone from the exterior was transformed into smooth, midnight ink. The torches flickered, casting light and shadow up the Halls. The world seemed to never end.

“Halt,” the first guard called, his arm thrown up, fist clenched, his elbow in a right angle of command. “The horse stays here.”

Imya had expected this. Ascha too. Separation was a trial, but necessary one. Imya stroked Ascha’s nose. “I must go. I will find you. Be safe,” she said, her voice a breath.

She handed Ascha’s reigns to a waiting Dwarf, who remained stoic in the face of the looming Night stallion, and watched as Ascha followed him dutifully to the stables. She turned back to the waiting guards, and followed them into an ante-room down a little corridor.

It seemed the Dwarves were unwilling to permit her further into the Mountain. Imya gritted herself. A Guardian of Aüle, within his own Halls, treated like a threat.

Peace, Imya. It will not do to be ungracious.

The larger guard remained with her, as the more swift-footed one sped off. For a time, neither occupant of the chamber said a word.

At last, the door swung open to reveal a short, white-haired Dwarf with a keen gaze. He regarded Imya, not smiling, but not frowning. An assessing gaze, and her dark eyes returned it steadily.

“Well met,” he said, and his voice was kind. “My name is Balin. How have you come to find yourself in Erebor this morning?”

“My name is Imya, Master Balin. And we have met before.”

“Aye, I remember,” he said, nodding. “You marched up to gates of Erebor in the middle of the night. Had us all in a right tizzy. And now you’re back. After three years?”

Imya straightened, refusing to break the eye contact. “I was told I’d always be welcome in the Mountain.”

“That so?” Balin asked.

Peace, Imya.

“Yes, it is so.”

Balin nodded thoughtfully. The guard next to him snorted derisively. Neither served to cool her growing fury.

“And you told you that, may I ask?”

Imya could not discern any sarcasm, so she replied, “Your King. Thorin Oakenshield. After I saved him and his Sister-Sons from certain death.”

Notes

* The opening lines are from the poem “The Return” by Ezra Pound. The theme of the poem is the return of ancient gods for those willing to see them.

* The name Ascha (Asha) means “wish, desire, hope” in Sanskrit.

* “Izrî” is the singular imperative for “Ask” in Khuzdul. I would like to thank The Dwarrow Scholar for use of the Neo-Khuzdul Library.

[dreamworksworddump]

Pavlov’s dogs: Ch. 1

Part 2

Pidge’s head hurts.

She thinks she has a concussion, because each word her mind dances over hurts to conceptualize, and she can only make sense of what’s going on around her in pieces.

There’s Lance, five feet away, the back of his armor smoldering from his gunshot wound. The armor has melted and shattered all at once, and it’s broken pieces allow blood to rise up between them. There’s the dying echo of the ship’s intruder alarms, and the quiet, broken rasp of Lance’s breath. She can hear Shiro and Hunk call out to them over the comms occasionally, but their voices sound too far away and are too loud for her to make sense of. There’s her knee, swollen and bruised from her battle with the Galra commander, and the blood dripping down her nose and pooling in her hair.

In pieces, it makes sense, but put together, she has no idea what to make of it. She manages to pull herself up into a sitting position, and from there, she is able to see the rest of the room. Behind Lance, the commander lies dead, blood pooling around the remains of his jaw.

Pidge’s stomach lurches, and she looks back to Lance. His eyes are fluttering open, and a low moan escapes from his mouth, barely audible over the dying roar lingering in her ears.

“Lance?” Her mouth is dry; her tongue feels like cotton. Lance rolls over onto her back, and starts to cough. “Lance, are you okay?”

“M’ fine. Not dead yet.” There’s a wetnness to his voice that scares her. What if the wound’s pierced his lungs? What is no one gets there in time to help, and he dies? Pidge remembers reading over a survivors account of Galra torture methods, and they’d said that drowning in your own blood was one of the worst ways to go. “Pidge?”

“Stay there,” She orders, and forces herself move. Standing makes her head spin and brings back that nauseous feeling, so she has to crawl on her hands and knees over to him. She cannot hide the sigh of relief as she settles into stillness once more, and sets Lance’s head on the softness of her thighs. “Can you breathe? Can you feel your toes?”

“I don’t feel anything. Isn’t that bad? When you can’t feel anything, it means your body’s given up. The danger’s passed.” Lance coughs, and blood bubbles out of the side of his mouth, and drips into his hair. He raises an arm to wipe it away, not realizing until his hand meets his helmet that he can’t. “Ah, it’ll be fine. Shiro and Hunk started heading our way when you called in about the General. The castle’ll fix everything. S’magic.” He smiles at her, and his teeth are outlined in red.

“My head hurts.” Pidge says dumbly. She can’t think of anything else to say. She can’t remember how they got here or what led up to this very moment. Everything is a stupid, fuzzy blur before she’d woken up, and seen Lance, bleeding on the floor. “Don’t die.” Tears prick at her eyes, and her face hurts with the effort of not crying. “Stop bleeding and don’t die. There’s so much blood.”

“M’ fine. Love you, and the story never ends before the hero gets the girl.” Lance’s voice is just a low murmur, and when she holds his hand, he hardly squeezes back.

“Lance?” Pidge blinks and she knows she has a concussion, because quiznack, did he just say that he loves her?

Before she can ask him to repeat himself, or tell him that the blood loss is messing with his head, Shiro and Hunk appear in the doorway, one of those floating crates held between them.

“Oh my god. Lance!” Hunk’s voice rises in pitch like a balloon rising into the air as he sees his best friend.

“He’ll be fine. We just need to get him back to the castle.” Shiro says in that comforting leader voice of his, and together, he and Hunk lift Lance onto the makeshift gurney. Pidge stumbles onto her feet as Shiro rises, refusing to let go of Lance’s hand. The room spins around her, and she leans on the side of the crate until it still.

“You probably shouldn’t walk either. Seems like you’ve got a concussion.” Hunk would carry her in his arms if she asked, but she doesn’t. If Hunk has to carry her, then that means she’ll have to leave Lance.

“I’m fine.”

Hunk doesn’t look convinced, but they don’t have any time to waste arguing with Lance in such a bad condition. Shiro and Hunk start to move, walking as fast as they can without jostling Lance, or making her fall. After a while, Pidge is able to walk despite the constant dizziness, if she closes her eyes every so often. The layout of the ship, which she had known so well before the mission, goes by in an undecipherable blur, and suddenly, she’s sitting behind Hunk in his lion, holding Lance’s hand and trying her damned hardest to keep her eyes open.

She blinks and then they’re heading into the castle, and she has to wonder; is this from a concussion, or from shock?

Coran starts ordering everyone around as they start to pry off Lance’s armor. The heat of the laser fused some of it to his skin, and it’s a dangerous game they’re playing in trying to pry it off. Hunk’s hands move delicately over his best friend’s back, heating and cutting off what he can with a solder-gun, but even so, Lance moans in pain beneath him. Pidge leans against the wall beside the makeshift gurney, and just holds his hand. She refuses to pull away, even when his nails start to dig gouges in her hand.

Pidge isn’t sure how long she stands there.

She measures time by how many vials of painkillers Coran goes through, by the piling of debris on the table, by the size of the bloodstain on the blanket underneath him.

When they stop, Hunk has to pry Lance’s hand from hers. Crescent shaped cuts pattern the surface of her palm, though she hardly notices. She’s too busy watching as they strip Lance, and stuff him into a med-suit. Throughout it all, Lance is far, far too quiet, and much too limp.

After the door closes, the bustling, busy energy of the med-bay stills, and solemn silence falls over them. Pidge sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Blood smears on the white surface of her armor.

“Pidge? Are you okay?” Hunk wipes Lance’s blood off of his hands with the sheet, and takes a cautious step towards her, as if afraid that if he walks too fast, he might knock her over. The sight of him moving makes her lingering dizziness flare up again. “You’ve got a nose bleed. And there’s blood all in your hair.”

“M’fine.” Pidge mutters. She tries to walk past him, to read the scrolling readout of Lance’s pod, but after only a few steps, the edges of her vision tinge black, and she starts to sway.

“Catch her, quick!” Coran calls, and Shiro swoops in to save her. Her head lolls to the side, and the last thing she sees before succumbing to the blackness is Lance’s face, a smile lingering on his lips even in unconsciousness.

Pidge does not dream.

Consciousness comes to her abruptly. She is in blackness, and then she is not. Thoughts return to her mind in a rush, and at the forefront of it all, is a single word. No, Pidge realizes, not a word, but a name.

“Lance?” Her tongue is thick and heavy, and won’t move like she wants it to. She opens her eyes, and finds the stark whiteness of the med-bay glaring back at her. Coran stands alone in front of her, the only witness to her revival, and he smiles proudly at her, like he does whenever she tries her Altean out on him.

She takes a step forward, but the paralysis of the cryo-pod is slow to leave her; Her legs give out after only a single step. She falls forward, but Coran catches her, and sets her back on her feet before she hits the ground.

“Careful, number five. That was quite a head injury you had.” Coran cautions. There is something fond in his eyes, something that speaks of respect for what she’d done for Lance. “Steady now. It’ll take a moment to get your balance back.”

She stays slumped on Coran’s shoulder for a moment more, and waits for the buzz of her sleeping nerves to spread from her feet to her legs to her tongue. “Lance?”

“He’ll be fine. It was a bad one,” He glances over at Lance’s still resting form, then looks back to her. She squints and tries to gleam what she can from it’s monitor, but her written Altean skills are rudimentary, and it’s too far away for her to decipher. “But he’ll be fine.”

Pidge doesn’t want to leave him; she doesn’t want to take her eyes off of him. She’s got this horrible feeling in her gut, a stupid yearning feeling, like the two of them are opposite magnets.  “But-”

“He’ll be up and at it again in about a quintant.” Coran takes her gently by the arm and leads her out into the hall, towards the kitchen. “You do want to be there when he wakes up, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I do, but-”

“Then eat. You can come back to check on number two once you’ve gotten some food in your belly.” Coran says, and she knows that she’d beat. There’s no point in arguing with Coran when he’s really set his mind on something.

Pidge sighs, and stops dragging her heels. “Okay. Fine.”

Coran takes her to the kitchen, and tries to replicate Hunk’s special ‘Congrats-you’re-not-dead’ dish, with little success. As he slaves over the stove, scowling occasionally at his sizzling pan, Pidge thinks back on what Lance had said to her.

“‘M’ fine. Love you, and the story never ends before the hero gets the girl.”

If it had been any other time, if he had worded iit any other way, then maybe she would’ve taken it as a joke. But it hadn’t, and he didn’t. His voice had been deeper than it had any right to be, and his eyes, his stupid, sea-blue eyes had held some sort of feeling that she just couldn’t put a name to. It was the way he’d said it; ‘Love you’, like he’d said it to her a million times before, like he’d whispered it her every night before she fell asleep, that sticks with her. The way he’d said it… it was like he knew that she felt the same way.

“I give up, number five.” Coran dumps his latest batch into the recycler with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve lived in this castle for nearly a hundred years! And somehow, Hunk runs it’s kitchen better than I ever could. You’ll have to settle for food goo or one of my famous paladin dishes. I’d be happy to make you-”

Pidge’s stomach turns at the mere memory of the last time she’d tried ‘authentic Paladin cuisine’. She shakes her head so fast, her vision blurs. “Uh, no thanks, Coran. Wouldn’t want to waste your time. Food goo is fine.”

Coran looks slightly disappointed, but all in all, is rather used to the Paladins refusing his cooking. He grabs a plate, and fills it up with food goo. “Oh, it would’ve been no problem, but if you insist.” He sets it down in front of her, along with a spoon and a packet of juice. “Would you like some company while you eat? Shiro is busy with diplomatic talks, and Hunk and Allura are off on some mission of their own.”

“Oh?” Pidge asks, mouth full of food. “S’that why you were the only one there when I woke up?”

“Shiro would’ve joined me, if not for the Arcanians.” Coran narrows his eyes, and crosses his arms. Pidge wonders what they did to piss Coran off, of all people, but refrains from asking; she probably wouldn’t understand half of what he’d tell her anyways. “They just wouldn’t let him go.”

Pidge shoves another spoonful into her mouth. Her stomach feels like a bottomless pit, like it always does after she gets out of the pod. Although biology is more of Hunk’s kind of science than her own, she understands the basis of why they all come out starving. When the body is forced to heal so much, so fast, it burns up a bunch of calories, because it takes up a bunch of energy. She’s got some squish to her body; she always comes out a few pounds lighter and starving, nonetheless. She wonders how it feels for Lance, who is already as thin as a stick.

Oh god. Lance. He’d confessed to her just before Hunk and Shiro had come in. The comms were probably on. What if everyone knows about it? What if Hunk is just waiting to come back to tease them about it? She feels a twinge of guilt for joining in with Lance’s teasing about Shay. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t she?

“Uh, Coran?” Pidge sets her spoon down on the edge of her plate. “Did Hunk or Shiro mention anything to you about what happened before they got to us? My memory is still a little, uh, fuzzy, as memories can be after a traumatic head injury.” Did that sound natural? It totally did, didn’t it?

Coran leans back in his chair and twirls the edge of his moustache as he thinks. “No, I don’t believe so, number five. Everything was so frantic, I don’t think I even asked for their mission reports.”

Pidge can’t tell if she should be relieved or worried.

“Oh, and one more thing. Can you send me the blueprints for our armor fabrication machine? I want to see if I can add more protection to the back and stomach.” Pidge thinks, no, she knows that if she looks at the design, she’ll be able to prevent an injury like this from happening again.

That fond look returns to Coran’s eyes as he stands, and pushes his chair back into the table. “Of course, Pidge. I’ll do that right away.” He pauses by the door and smiles. The way his eyes crinkle remind her of her father, of how his eyes glisten whenever she impresses him, or makes him proud. “Oh, and don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what Lance said to you.” He mimes zipping his lips. “Advisor’s honor.”

Pidge thumps her head on the table and groans.

As soon as Pidge finishes eating, she changes out of the med-suit into her usual clothes, and  heads down to Green’s Hangar to look over the blueprints. Her goal is simple: prevent Lance from getting any more scars.

All of them have scars now, even Allura. Most of them aren’t too bad, but each of them has one or two that’s impossible to ignore. Shiro has his facial scar. Pidge has one on her chest, just under her breasts from a shrapnel cut. Lance had one from the explosion he’d saved Coran from back on Arus, and will undoubtedly have a new one from his most recent wound. It doesn’t bother Pidge so much; after all, it’s not anywhere important, and she never really fretted over her appearance much anyways, but for Lance, every scar seems to haunts him.

They’d never talked about it, true, but she’s known Lance for nearly, what? Five years now? He’s her best friend; she knows.  

By the time the castle’s lights dim in simulation of night, she’s found fourteen areas for improvement. If she changes the material used to the hollowed version, it’ll absorb impact better. By adding quilite filament to it, heat’ll spread more evenly across its surface, preventing laserfire from burning through to his skin. If she-

“I’ll drag you out of here if I have to.” Shiro says, amusement audible in his tone. “Even gremlins like you need sleep every once in a while.”

“But Shiro, I haven’t even fabricated the prototype yet!”

“You’re not going anywhere for the next few days. What’s the rush?”

Pidge thinks of Lance, and of the scar on his back. What’ll it look like? Will it be dark, like ash? Pink, like meat left exposed? “There’s- I- I just want to get it done as soon as I can.”

Shiro holds up one finger. “You get an hour. And then I’ll drag you to your room if I have to.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

Shiro doesn’t have to bother. Not ten minutes after she sends the improved blueprint to the fabricator does she fall asleep in front of her computer, drool pooling onto the sleeve of her sweater.

Pidge doesn’t wake up until her alarm starts beeping at decibels loud enough to kill certain kinds of aliens. For a moment, she considers turning it off and heading back to sleep, but then she remembers: Lance is waking up today. She sits up abruptly, and wipes the drool from the corner of her mouth.

When did she even set the timer? She barely even remembers falling asleep. Oh, forget it. S’not important.

Pidge pushes her chair back, and stretches. A yawn escapes from her mouth, and she wonders if she’ll have enough time to catch a bite before he’s let out.

“Didn’t you hear your alarm, number five?” Coran calls out over the intercom. The sudden disruption startles her, and she jumps back from the desk, where the speaker sits. “You’ve only got five dobashes to get up here!”

Her mouth drops. “Five? Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

“Four doboshes.”

Pidge groans and breaks into a mad run for the elevator. As the door opens on the floor of the med-bay, Coran updates her on the time.

“Three doboshes.”

She runs as fast as she can towards it, nearly crashing into walls several times as she turns corners. As she approaches the med-bay door, Shiro turns the corner, and she nearly runs smack dab into him. She manages to catch herself just a moment before impact, with one leg jutted out in the air, and her arms raised in an awkward attempt to keep her balance. She freezes as the cryo-pod doors and Lance comes tumbling out, all long limbs and fluffy hair. She shrieks, and his eyes latch onto her.

Lance surveys her; her hair is fluffed up from sleep, and there’s a line of drool on her face. He starts laughing.

Pidge blushes and straightens up. Behind her, Shiro does his best to keep from cracking a smile.

Coran claps him on the back and grins. Lance’s smile falters, but only for a second, as Coran’s hand touches his back. “We’re glad to see that you’re all better, Lance! Unfortunately, Shiro and I have some repairs to attend to, so you’ll have to spend the day recuperating with just Pidge’s company. Hope you don’t mind.”

Pidge narrows her eyes. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Coran pats her head and grins. “Nothing, number five. Welp, better get back to it. Off we go, number one!”

Coran hooks his arm around Shiro’s and drags him into the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

“You mind eating with me? Being healed with magic always gets me super hungry.” Lance stretches his arms over his head, and starts to walk after them. “Mind sitting with me?”

Lance’s legs are like, twice as long as hers, so she has to jog to catch up with him. “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Lance leads them into the kitchen, and fills up a plate with food goo. He hands it to her, fills up another, then slides into a chair and starts to eat. Pidge rubs furiously at the spit stain when she thinks Lance isn’t looking. He looks up at her as the mice climb into her lap, and then onto the table, and she hurries to pretend that she was doing something, anything else.

“Did you dream any, while you were in there?”

Lance holds his spoon like a cigarette, and watches as the mice gather around his plate to beg. “It’s fuzzy. Something about a party, and my mom. You were there too. I…” He trails off, suddenly bashful.

“I was there, and…” Pidge prompts.

Lance offers a spoonful of goo to the mice, and avoids her gaze. “I think I was introducing you to my mother, and you were my… my girlfriend.”

Pidge stares at her plate and laughs nervously. The mice cross their arms and look at her expectantly. “Wow, um, that’s- that’s something.”

They fall into an uneasy silence. There’s the sense of anticipation, like the two of them are waiting for the water to finally spill over, and ruin everything.

“So,” Pidge drawls. “Wanna go play some video games? S’not like you can go training or anything.”

Lance grins, and Pidge’s heart thuds heavily in her chest. “I’ll have you know that Allura thinks it’s a form of dexterity training, so it technically counts.”

Pidge sticks her tongue out. “And Allura also thinks that milkshakes are made of cow-”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Lance grabs her half eaten plate and his own, and tosses them into the recycler. “Don't. Don't say it.”

Pidge snickers, and starts for the kitchen door. “Point being, Allura doesn't have a great grasp of human culture.”

Lance had commandeered the game system not long after she’d figured out how to hook it up to the castle, so whenever she wants to play, she has to go to his room. She doesn't mind, not really, because Lance’s room is much cleaner than hers, and always smells inexplicably of spun sugar and citrus. Being in there today, has her feeling awkward and out of place. The question lingers in her mind, heavy and unspoken: Did Lance mean what he’d said?

Lance passes her the remote, and a game controller, and jabs a thumb at his bathroom. “Go ahead and set it up. I’m gonna go take a quick shower and change.”

Pidge nods. “Okay.”

She starts the long process of booting up the game system, and leans back against the frame of his bed.

They’ve been best friends for a long time, but she’s best friends with Hunk too. When did whatever she and Lance have evolve into feelings? Well for Pidge, it was a slow thing. She’d noticed that he was good-looking when she first met him, but hadn't really seen him like that until they became a part of Voltron. When did it start to hurt when he flirted with other girls? When had she become jealous of the princess, because Lance treated her like a girl? And more importantly, when did Lance start to see her as more than a friend?

Lance stands in the doorway of his bathroom, jeans slung low across his hips, and his hair dripping from the shower and into his collar. “Ready to get beat?”

She snorts. “You seem eager to lose.” Lance sits down beside her. He’s close enough for her to smell his shampoo.

“I’m the master of this game. You’ll be eating my dust.”

“Seems like you’re all talk. You wanna prove something, you gotta take action.”

Lance picks up a controller and picks his character. A bard. Figures. “There’s no need to prove anything if it’s obvious to everyone.”

The conversation shifts, and Pidge realizes that they're not talking about the game anymore.

“Well maybe it’s not obvious. Maybe it sounds like a joke, or a mistake. Maybe you do have something to prove.”

“Why? Cause I wasn't serious about the game before? Can't you take things at face value?”

Pidge hums and knocks Lance’s character into the way of the dragon’s flame, effectively killing him. The word ‘winner’ flashes on screen.

Lance pouts, and dangles the controller by the cord. His eyes, cobalt blue, such a pretty blue, train onto her curiously, as if she were the only thing worth looking at. “Best two out of three?” He pleads.

Pidge wants to kiss his stupid pouting face. She wants to tangle her fingers in his overgrown hair, wants to tug him down to her height and kiss him. She just barely stops herself from doing so. Her cheeks burn as she shakes her head. “I think you should get some rest. I’ve got… stuff to do.” She turns and is out the door before he can even muster a response.

Pidge ends up at her workbench, watching the fabricator apply layer after layer of molten material to the mold, and going over her previous actions with cautious scrutiny. She has nothing to do, and even if she did have a project to work on, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it. Everytime she tries to work, she thinks back on what she’d said, what she’d done, and then dies of embarrassment. With nothing else to do, she relives the day over and over again in her mind, and falls asleep watching paint dry on Lance’s armor.

@marifertrash, so sorry that I couldn’t write some fucking smut without all of this unneccesary plot. Stay tuned for chapter 2!