#if he's this bad about keith leaving what about keith almost dying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

actress4him · 3 years

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Bonus Whumptober Content Part 2

Original Whumptober fic here

Bonus Content Part 1 here

Find it all on AO3 here

Thanks for all of the support on the last chapter! I appreciate each and every one of the likes and reblogs and follows I’ve gotten.

Tagging @outtacommission again because Keith would not have been resurrected from the dead without his bribery.

Here is chapter 3 of this fic... see you next week for the conclusion!

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: referenced amputation, blood mention, referenced broken bones, self-esteem issues, suicide ideation, death mention, nightmares, abandonment issues

When he woke again, he was lying back down on the pillow, staring up at the blank white ceiling. For one, blissful moment, he didn’t remember the events leading up to him passing out again. But it all came crashing down on him an instant later, taking his breath away.

My leg.

My leg, my leg.

My arm, my face, my leg.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was quiet, tentative. Not like him. “Are you awake?”

He wanted to roll over on his side and ignore him. Close his eyes, maybe go back to sleep, pretend that the world and this nightmare didn’t exist for a little while longer. The only reason he refrained was because he wasn’t sure if his stupid, wrecked body could actually manage it.

“What did you do to me?” It was only a whisper, and as slurred as it was, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was impossible to understand.

Shiro’s breath hitched audibly. If Keith had been looking at his face, he was sure he wouldn’t like the anguished expression that he would see there. But at that moment, he didn’t have the capacity to care.

“Do you want me to...explain...how it...happened?”

No. Yes. He didn’t know. He needed to know why him losing a leg had been the best option, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he could handle hearing about it. In the end, he just lifted one shoulder - the one that actually listened and responded right away - in a shrug.

Shiro shifted in his seat, leaning forward so just the tip of his white bangs were in Keith’s periphery. “I already told you that you...died. On that planet. So when we got back to the Castle, you dying again was a distinct possibility. We...it’s like Fallenta said. We had to get you into a pod, even though your...your left arm was broken, and your knees, especially, were a mess from where the console landed on them.”

He paused, rubbing his palms together. “We didn’t know what would happen. I was scared to death that some of those breaks wouldn’t be able to be fixed after the pod. I mean, we were headed to Tellima, but…” His head dropped. “We had no choice. That hole in your stomach...you were dying.”

Keith could almost imagine it - the frantic atmosphere in the infirmary, the blood everywhere, the desperate conversations escalating into shouts as they debated on what to do. He had no doubt that he really had been dying, that they had made the choice they thought was best. He just wasn’t sure if he agreed with that choice.

“When you came out of the pod, once the stomach wound was healed enough for you to be stable, Fallenta started working on re-breaking the bones so that they could be set correctly. It was...awful.” The shudder was obvious in his voice. “I’m glad she was able to do it, of course, but I’m also glad that you were unconscious the whole time. Your arm was relatively easy. Your left knee...it took her hours. It was in so many tiny little pieces. And your right…”

Automatically Keith flinched at the reminder of what was no longer there. Of the scarred, chopped off stump that lay just underneath the blanket, and the way his leg just...ended. He could see the void where the rest of it should have been even now, if he were to look down. He was purposely avoiding it.

Shiro heaved a huge sigh. “Unfortunately, your right knee was shattered in a way that had been blocking the circulation in your lower leg the whole time. The tissue down there was...dead.” He paused again. “Keith, I’ve...trust me, I’ve gone ‘round and ‘round in my head ever since we...trying to figure out if there was something I could have done differently. And...I don’t think there was. We did what we had to do to save your life. I’m just...I’m sorry that we couldn’t save your leg, too.”

His leg was gone.

Would he ever be able to walk again? Could they find a prosthetic for him like Shiro had, that worked as well as the real thing? Even if they did, how long would it take him to get used to walking on it? Just walking, not even counting anything like running, jumping, fighting.

Fighting was what he did. It was the one and only thing besides flying that he was good at. He was crap with a gun, he couldn’t sit up in a sniper’s nest like Lance. He needed to be able to move. If he couldn’t, even just for the time that it took to learn how with a new leg and an arm that only half worked...

They’d replace him. What good was a paladin who was crippled? Who couldn’t pull his weight? As soon as Red woke up and found out what happened to him she would realize that he was useless now. And the Princess, the rest of the team...they already knew it. They were probably already looking for a new Red Paladin. How long would it be until they dropped him off on Earth, or on some Coalition planet? Probably as soon as he was healed enough. They didn’t have time to keep taking care of an invalid, they had a universe to save.

They did. Not him. Not anymore.

“Should’ve left me there.”

There was dead silence for a moment.

“What?”

Keith tipped his head back further into the pillow, eyes roving over the featureless ceiling as if he’d see something new. “I tol’ you not to come. I tol’ you to leave me there. You didn’t listen.”

“And now you’re alive.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Keith…”

His hands fisted in the blanket, jaw clenched in sudden fury. “Don’t ‘Keith’ me. Why, Shiro? Why am I alive? What is the point? You know what all this means.”

It meant he’d be alone. And he couldn’t...he couldn’t do alone. Not again. Not when he found a group of people that he actually cared about for the first time in so long. Not when he was just finally getting used to always having people around, always having someone to talk to or distract him from the thoughts that tried to consume him. Not when he barely survived it the first time.

He’d rather be dead than alone.

Shiro sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “That life is gonna be hard for a while? That you’re gonna have to work harder than ever to get back to where you were? Yeah, Keith, I do know. I know more than anyone else.”

Oh.

Shiro must think he was so incredibly self-centered.

He was self-centered.

He should have thought about how acting like losing a leg was worse than dying would seem to the man who had lost an arm and kept going. But instead he was all caught up in how he was going to lose everything he had grown to love and rely on. Acting like the self-absorbed brat that everyone at the Garrison except Shiro had accused him of being.

“That means I also know how hard it is to accept,” Shiro was saying. “It’s going to take time to adjust. But you will, I promise, and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

Yeah, right. Keith didn’t know if he was lying to make him feel better, or if he just hadn’t yet realized or accepted that Allura and the rest of the team wouldn’t want to keep him around.

“Just...please, Keith. Please don’t say that we should have let you die. You don’t know…” His voice caught. “I’ve spent these last weeks hoping, praying that you would live. Scared out of my mind every moment of every day that you wouldn’t.”

Keith finally forced himself to turn his head toward his brother and saw him brush the back of his wrist across his eyes. Just that movement was enough to make his heart drop to his stomach. Shiro didn’t cry. At least not where anyone could see him.

Slowly, he slid his hand out across the bed, palm up. A peace offering. It took only a moment for Shiro to take it, squeezing it so hard he thought a few more bones might break.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. And he was. Not for thinking it, but for saying it. He didn’t want to cause any more pain for any of his friends.

That’s why when it was time for him to go, he’d do it quietly. No fuss. Don’t let them see your fear or your pain - he had learned that long, long ago. He was good at it.

Shiro gave him a shaky smile. “It’ll be alright, Keith. I promise.”

Swallowing down the words that sprang to his tongue, he gave a nod. “Okay.”

The next morning Keith woke up to an empty room. In a way, it was a relief. They obviously didn’t see the need to watch over him and baby him twenty-four-seven anymore. But he was, for all intents and purposes, stuck. With no leg, he couldn’t just get up and leave the room whenever he wanted, head to the training room like he normally would in the morning. There’d be no training for him for a long time.

Of course there was breakfast to think about, too, and he wasn’t sure whether to expect someone to bring it to him, or to bring him to it. Either way, he hated it. He had always hated being treated like he was helpless, and now it was even worse because he actually was helpless.

He went ahead and made up his mind, though. No matter what their plan was, he had no desire to be carried through the Castle to the dining room where everyone would give him those looks of pity. Poor Keith. Can’t even walk by himself. It’s just too bad he can’t stay.

He was in the midst of pushing himself up off the pillows, trying to get his right side to cooperate long enough to get in an upright position he could balance in and trying to ignore the strange lightness of his leg, when the door opened and Pidge slipped in.

“Hey,” she said softly. Padding over, she perched carefully on the edge of the chair that first Hunk, then Shiro had occupied.

Tucking his left leg up close to him - the knee creaking in protest at being used for the first time since healing - Keith cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Silence fell, but it had never been awkward between the two. The introverted arms of Voltron. Pidge just gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes saying all the things he knew she would never actually be able to say with words. “It’s good to see you awake. I was really worried about you.”

On the outside, she merely shoved her glasses back up into the bridge of her nose and sniffed. “You better not quiznakin’ ever do that again.”

Keith’s lips turned up at the corners for the first time since waking the day before. “Alright.”

Besides Shiro, he thought he would miss Pidge the most of all. They got each other more than anyone else.

“So.” Straightening up, she whipped a tablet out of her hoodie pocket. “We’ve been working on a leg for you. The Tellimites have crazy good medical technology, so obviously we’re using their notes, but I’ve also been talking back and forth with the Olkari, because they’re, of course, crazy good with biological connections, and we’ve come up with a design that should communicate really well with your body and, essentially, work like the real thing.”

She launched into a detailed scientific explanation of how every inch of it worked, tapping and flicking through various diagrams that just looked like a plain prosthetic leg to him. He didn’t understand but a few words here and there, but he let her talk. This was one of her passions, and it was nice to let her be able to ramble about it for once without having to worry about being rushed. The way her face lit up was worth every second.

“So...what do you think?” Suddenly she sounded uncertain as she blinked up at him. “We definitely want your input on it. I mean, I suggested putting in a rocket booster, but Hunk pointed out that it would be difficult to control with only one. Lance wanted to add lasers that shot out anytime you stomped your foot, but that seemed pretty dangerous for like, running and stuff, so…”

It almost sounded like they expected him to still be fighting with this thing. Well, maybe he would. Eventually. After all, he wouldn’t feel right about just ignoring the existence of the war when the people he cared about were still out there fighting it, so he’d do his best to get back into shape. Maybe he could convince them to find a Coalition planet for him that had soldiers he could fight with someday.

It wouldn’t be the same as fighting with this team, his...his friends. But at least he wouldn’t be completely useless.

He met Pidge’s eyes and realized she was still waiting on an answer from him. Part of him wanted to keep his words to a minimum, not wanting her to hear his new speech impediment, but he swallowed his pride. “It, uh...whatever you guys come up with I’m sure will be great.” He actually hadn’t even been sure whether to expect them to work on it themselves, or put it off on the Tellimites or some other able species. It made sense, though, that Pidge and Hunk would want to jump on this opportunity to design something they had never gotten to do before. He forced a small smile. “But...yeah, let’s hold off on weaponizing it.”

Smirking, Pidge turned off the tablet and stuck it back in her pocket. “Alright, if you insist. Lance is gonna be super disappointed, though.”

“I’m sure.” He could hear the whining and complaining about how boring and unimaginative he was now.

“So, I was supposed to ask you about breakfast…?”

Keith stared down at his hands. “Oh. Yeah. I don’...think I’m really ready to...try to move around yet, so…”

He was such a bad liar. But Pidge either didn’t notice or was being nice and pretending not to, merely nodding and standing.

“Okay. I’ll tell Shiro, he’ll probably bring you a plate down here.”

“Thanks, Pidge.”

She turned back from the doorway and smiled softly at him. “No problem.”

The nightmares came that night.

And the next. And the next.

Snippets of things he didn’t remember during the day, and wouldn’t remember again when he woke. Alarms blaring. Lights flashing. A horrifying crunching sound, then crippling pain and a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

And then...nothing. No one came. No one heard him calling. He stayed there, alone and bleeding in the dark, until the pain became too much and he slipped away.

He woke with tears streaming down his cheeks and a scream on his lips that didn’t quite make it out into the still air of the infirmary, not knowing what he was even crying about other than the nauseating loneliness that weighed him down, pinning him to the bed.

Forcing his right hand to be the one to clumsily scrub away the tears - because it was going to work, dang it - he gritted his teeth and pushed against the weight to flop over onto his side.

Get over it. Get over it, get used to it, stop being such a baby. You’ve always known that this wouldn’t last. It’s a miracle they’ve stuck around for as long as they have. If you try to hang onto them they’ll just end up hating you before they leave.

He got away with hiding in the infirmary for two days before Fallenta declared him well enough to be up and about, and Shiro and Allura showed up with the Altean version of crutches. They escorted him slowly down the halls of the Castle to the dining room, chatting amiably the whole way. Keith assumed it was meant to either distract him from his plight, or to keep themselves from staring and pitying.

“Hey, look who finally decided to join us!” Lance announced loudly as soon as he hobbled into the room. “It’s about time you were out of bed, Mullet-head.”

“What Lance means,” Hunk sighed, “is that it’s good to see you up, Keith.”

“That it is, Number Four!” Coran rushed to pull out his usual seat, and his smile was so bright Keith couldn’t even be mad about the special treatment. “You had us all worried for a while there, for sure!”

Swallowing, Keith fiddled with his spork, unsure whether he was supposed to respond. “Um...yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Keith.” Shiro smiled at him softly, knowingly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He just barely kept another ‘sorry’ from escaping. Instead he nodded, picked up his spork with his left hand, and changed the subject. “So, uh...wha’s been going on lately?”

That was all it took for everyone to launch into tales of short missions in the Lions, repairs on Red, and alliances with Tellima. Keith barely remembered to keep eating his goo as he watched all of the animated faces and gesturing hands with a small smile on his face. It was good to be back among his teammates. They were so unlike him in so many ways, it was no wonder that he had never really fit in with them. But he cared about them anyway. They might not feel the same way about him, but he was so glad that they had become a part of his life.

And now they wouldn’t be anymore. Scowling down into his bowl where no one would notice, he poked at the green goo. How did I let myself get so attached? Before Shiro, it had been many, many years since he had let himself care about anyone this much. He should have known better by then. Letting himself come to consider any person or place home was just setting himself up for heartbreak.

As much as he loved spending this last bit of time with them, he almost wished they would stop acting so natural, as if they weren’t getting ready to kick him out any day now. No one mentioned a search for a new paladin. No one said whether they were headed to Earth, or some other planet.

He wasn’t going to be able to stand the suspense for many more days. They needed to just get it over with.

Later that night, after waking from another nightmare back in his own room, Keith stared at the bare walls, so lifeless compared to the other paladin’s rooms. Maybe I was always prepared for this moment, after all. Or maybe he had just been kicked out and left behind so many times that the ability to settle in was impossible for him no matter where he went.

Struggling to sit up, he groped for the crutches and pulled himself to his feet. He wasn’t going to get back to sleep anytime soon, and no one had expressly forbidden him from venturing out on his own - not that it would have stopped him even if they had.

It took far too long to make it down the four hallways between his room and Red’s hangar. Walking with crutches used a whole new set of muscles that he wasn’t used to accessing, and trying to force his right side to carry that much weight was exhausting. He had to stop and lean against the wall, panting for breath, several times along the way.

But he made it, eventually. He paused once more outside the door, debating whether or not he was actually ready to see the damage done to Red, before he sucked it up and punched the scanner.

He wasn’t ready.

The great mechanical beast was lying on her side, a position that somehow managed to make her look vulnerable despite her hulking size. Her legs were splayed awkwardly as if she had just been dropped there. She probably had.

The worst part, though, was that her face was nearly unrecognizable. What had once been her muzzle was completely smashed in, there were spiderweb cracks across one of her dull grey eyes, and the other was missing altogether.

Actually, he took that back. The worst part was the cold and the silence.

No purr in his head to greet him. No eyes lighting up in recognition of her Paladin. No warmth filling up his chest and spreading out to his fingers and toes. With Red, there was always some kind of heat. Now, though, a shiver shook his body.

Clenching his jaw, Keith forced himself a few steps closer, until he could reach out, balancing precariously, and lay a hand against her warped, dented nose. It was cold, too.

Suddenly tears sprang to his eyes for the first time since his panic attack a couple of days before. “‘m sorry, Red.” He stroked his hand over the metal, feeling all of the bumps that shouldn’t have been there. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. You...you’ve always protected me, and…”

Tipping his head back, he took in the mess of a cockpit again, and this time he saw flashes of his nightmare. Something sharp pinning him to the chair. Blood dripping onto the floor.

One tear escaped, sliding rapidly down to his chin. “I don’t even know how I survived this. But if either of us deserved to survive, it’s you. Please, Red...if you can hear me at all...please don’t give up. I know I...I can’t fly you anymore, but…”

It hit him then, the brutal truth of that statement. He’d never fly her again. He might never fly anything again. He’d known it ever since finding out what had happened to him, but now it stabbed him through the heart, how much he was going to miss this semi-sentient alien ship.

Before he knew it, he was falling none-too-gracefully to the floor, one hand planted in front of him while the other remained on her snout, crutches clattering loudly to the side. The tears came in earnest, then. “Red...Red I lost my leg. I...I can’t fight anymore, I can’t fly…I’m useless.”

He’d told her that before. That time, though, she had reassured him that no, he was her Paladin, he was a defender of the universe, not useless. Never useless.

But now there was no one to reassure him. Even if she had been able, Red would know the truth. He wasn’t her Paladin anymore, he wasn’t a defender of the universe. He was useless.

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

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five times you shared a bed with your best friend plus one time you didn’t | matthew tkachuk

lol so @slimskjei-dy requested the prompt 16. We’ve been sharing a bed since we were little so why is this weird now? from a list i put out a couple days ago to write blurbs for and this spiraled out of control, so here’s nearly 4k.

one

The Tkachuk’s move into the house next door to your family the summer before you start preschool and at the ripe age of three, you are too young to have any idea what going with your mom to drop off “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies is going to mean for your future.

Really, it likely has more to do with the fact that “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies turned into a glass of “welcome to the neighborhood” wine between your mom and Chantal Tkachuk, which turned into a bottle of wine while you and Matthew played in the backyard with Brady’s chubby little baby legs trying his hardest to keep up.

By the time Keith arrived home from a midday skate session, with your dad awkwardly following behind, babbling about how your mom had just planned on dropping something off quickly but was still missing, their friendship was basically cemented. Chantal and your mom did everything together. And your dads’ friendship didn’t take long to form after that.

Which meant you and Matty were right there with them.

But neither of you cared. You’d settled quickly into a friendship, just like your parents had, where you’d play hockey with him and he’d begrudgingly play soccer with you, and you both pretended you had no idea what Brady was talking about when he ran to tattle that you were ganging up on him and not letting him play.

There’s countless pictures of the two of you growing up, getting into all kinds of trouble, but then also, of the quieter moments too. Sitting too close to the TV watching movies, eagerly waiting by the door for Keith to come home from a road trip with souvenirs, the naps curled up around each other in one of your beds.

“The quietest twenty minutes of the day.” Keith continues to joke, anytime one of those pictures resurfaces.

two

You wince at the sound of glass crashing behind you and decide the best course of action is to keep moving forward with your mission to find Matthew. Whichever hockey bro of Matthew’s house this is can take care of that; it’s not your job.

Besides, the room is spinning from the cheap beer and booze you’d been drinking all night since the two of you arrived at this party, and you’re pretty sure it’s a bad idea to go near glass.

You find Matthew in the kitchen, with a few of his St. Louis hockey bros, a couple of them guys that you’re still friends with even after he’d left to go join the NTDP, as well as a few faces you don’t recognize. You slip up into their circle, sliding under Matty’s arm when it lifts to wrap around your shoulders, grateful for the solid body to lean against.

The room is really starting to spin.

“You okay?” He asks, ignoring whoever’s speaking.

“I don’t think I can go home tonight.” You admit.

He laughs. “Text your mom and tell her you’re staying with me. Big Walt and Chantal are at a tourney with Brady and Taryn; nobody’s home.”

“You don’t think she knows your parents aren’t home?” You scoff, but you’re already pulling out your phone and carefully drafting the text, making sure to avoid any spelling errors that might give your drunkenness away.

“Yeah, but she can’t prove what she hasn’t seen.” Matty winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“Is that what you told your mom after you left her a three minute voicemail at 3am last month?” You chirp at him, smiling at the instant laughter from the friends around you and accepting a fist bump from Luke Kunin.

That line of chirping continues for a few minutes, until Matty manages to turn it around on one of the boys, and then it dissolves into a free for all before they’re all just laughing at each other.

By the time the giggling ends, you’re about three seconds away from falling asleep on Matt’s shoulder, and it’s his nudge that wakes you. “You ready?” You nod, joining him in making goodbyes to your friends, and then following him out the door to begin the walk back toward your houses.

The fresh air does some good to sober you up and you feel marginally less dizzy by the time you and Matt make it to his room. He throws you a t-shirt to change into and you fall into bed after changing, waiting for him to join you, eyes shutting the second you feel the bed settle beside you.

three

The night before Matty’s due to leave for Buffalo for the draft, your phone buzzes with a text from him. You’re expecting more of the same that you’ve been exchanging all day with him-in various group chats with your friends, at a barbeque with both your families, when the two of you were chatting with Brady while you hid in the far corner with the beers you snuck while Taryn and your sister were off doing their thing.

It’s not. Let me in the text says, so you shove the blankets down and make your way downstairs to open the door for him.

“Shh.” You tell him. “They’re all asleep.”

“It’s 3am, of course they are!” He whispers back.

“Well so was I until you woke me up!” You start walking back toward your room, knowing he’ll follow.

Matthew doesn’t speak again until the two of you are in your room, the door is closed, and he’s lying on his side to face you in your bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You can’t possibly be nervous.” You whisper back, knowing he’s talking about the draft. He shrugs and you reach your hand out to shove his shoulder down, allowing it to rest there. “Matty.” He blinks at you a few times as you think of what to say next. “You’re gonna go somewhere and you’re going to be great. One of these teams is going to love you enough to draft you and everyone after them is going to be mad they didn’t have the chance to and almost everyone before them is going to be mad they didn’t end up picking you and you’re going to go off to whatever city does and forget all about me back here.”

Matthew wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him so you move your hand from the top of his shoulder around to rub at the blade gently. “First of all, that’ll never happen. You’re stuck with me forever.”

You nod seriously. “Somebody’s got to put up with you.”

He pokes you in the side for that one and you have to bite your lip to keep in the squeal of laughter. “Second of all, almost? Almost everyone is going to me mad they didn’t pick me?”

“Leafs got first pick to get Auston! I just don’t think they’re going to regret that!” He pokes you again and you don’t manage to hide the squeal this time. “Matty! Everyone’s sleeping!”

“You should be nicer to me.” He tells you, once you settle down.

“I should be nicer to you? You wake me up at 3am to talk you off the ledge and I should be nicer to you?”

He nods, pulling you even closer to bury his face in your hair. “Always.”

You laugh, the sound muffled into his chest now. “Are we all good now?”

“Hmm?” He says, sounding sleepy already.

“Never mind.” You tell him, rubbing his back again. “Good night, Matty.”

“G’night.”

four

Calgary is a thousand times more incredible than you’d ever imagined. You’d been teasing Matty about being stuck in a frozen wasteland, sending him snaps from sunny gamedays at Mizzou and laughing anytime you get one in return with snow in the picture.

There’s snow on the ground when you arrive in December, fresh out of finals, and still feeling both the mental exhaustion from your exams and the hangover from a day of binge drinking with your friends immediately after they’d ended. You’ll never fly hungover again; the next time you do this, you’ll leave yourself a day of rest between exams and flying up to visit your best friend, since you know you won’t stop drinking earlier.

College is making you smarter already!

Matthew actually laughs when he meets you in the pick up lane, like puts his head on the steering wheel and has to hold off on driving. He gets honked at by the car behind him. “Your laugh is making my headache worse.” You whine.

“So I take it you don’t want the bottle of wine I bought for us to split tonight?”

You look over at him suspiciously. “What kind of wine?”

He laughs again, but softer this time. “Atta girl.”

It’s a red blend, a favorite of the two of you, but a much nicer one than you’ve ever bought before. You let out a low whistle as Matthew places the order for dinner. “Suddenly you’ve got some cash flow and Barefoot’s too good?”

“Hell yeah! Wait until you see what kind of vodka I got for us for Saturday.”

You perk up. “What’s on Saturday?”

“Party with the team before my parents come in.”

You laugh, accepting the glass of wine he pours for you. “You don’t think Big Walt would want to come to the party?”

Matty gives you a look. “I know that’s exactly what would happen and that’s why I told them to come Sunday.”

“Smart thinking.” You admit.

“See, who needs college?” He teases, which settles the two of you into your familiar teasing and banter while you wait for the food to arrive.

It isn’t too long after dinner and Netflix that you and Matthew are heading to bed, pressing yourself as close as you can to suck up as much warmth that he’s radiating. “Fuck, your feet are cold.” Matty mutters as you giggle and press your toes into his calf.

“Haven’t you missed me?” You sling your leg over his for maximal toe digging, laughing when he jumps.

“I guess.” He says, but his tone says Absolutely.

five

“So what are your plans for after graduation?”Ashley, Sean Monahan’s girlfriend (and soon-to-be fiancee if Matty was to be believed) looks at you during a stoppage of play late in the third.

“God, don’t remind me.” You groan. You’d wrapped the fall semester of your senior year a couple days ago and then taken off to Calgary in what had become your annual post-finals trip. It’d be the last one you ever took, with your final semester of college looming over your head.

Ashley grins. She’d become a close friend of yours over all your trips to visit Matthew, even flying down to St. Louis last season when the Flames were in town and spending a weekend with some of the other girls visiting you at school afterwards. “Just come hang out up here forever.”

You burst into laughter. “And live where?”

She gives you a look, like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “With Matt?”

“Oh my god, you’re serious.” It takes a full minute for you to recover. Play has resumed, there’s a minor scrum on the ice in front of the two of you but you barely even notice, too shocked by Ashley’s words.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because why would I ever?”

“Because you already do.” She says, with more patience than you’ve possessed in your entire life combined, and then laughs at the look on your face. “YN, what you two have is so special! To fall in love with your best friend at age three and still feel that way is amazing! If Sean and I can look at each the way you and Matt do after twenty years, we could only be so lucky.”

“We’re not in love.” You deny. “Matty and I-we’re just-we’re not.”

Ashley bites her lip, but doesn’t push it any further. “Alright.” She agrees, and thankfully, the game ends there, so you’re able to just gather your things with her and make your way down toward the family room to meet the boys.

But you can’t get her words out of your head as you and Matthew arrive back to his place and start getting ready to go to bed. You move around each other with a practiced ease, handing him the toothpaste before he even asks for it and accepting the oversized sweatshirt he passes to you, somehow knowing that you’re extra chilly tonight.

Lying next to him in bed, the same way you have for nearly twenty years, suddenly feels suffocating. You roll onto your side, hoping for some room to breath, but now it just feels awkward; this isn’t how you sleep.

You sit up, ditching the sweatshirt. Maybe you’re just too warm. Lying back and pulling the covers back up does nothing to solve that problem, and actually, you’re shivering, so you sit back up and yank the sweatshirt back on.

“Could you settle down?” Matty mumbles, pulling you into his side the second that you’re flat again. His arm rests on your waist, thumb in the dip of your hip, a position it’s been in many times, but suddenly you think you’re having trouble breathing. You open your mouth to tell him this, but he presses a kiss to your temple and says, “Relax, just sleep.”

You don’t sleep a wink the entire night.

plus one

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Dylan, a good friend of both yours and Matthew’s, is usually one of the most upbeat people you know, so the sound of disappointment coming throughout your phone actually makes you wince. “YN?”

“I just-” You hesitate. You’d have to leave right now in order to get to St. Louis in time to make the Skills Competitions, and even then you might be pushing it, and things were still weird for you with Matty, as evidenced by how things were between the two of you when he came home for his short Christmas break. And things were weird. Everyone noticed- your families, your friends, Matthew. The two of you had spoken only once since, in the group chat where Matthew had texted an invite to your group chat to come home for the weekend for the All Star Weekend and you’d noncommittally responded wow that’d be awesome. “I’m super busy.” You finish lamely.

Dylan sighs. “Look, YN, I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Matt and I don’t really care. It’s not my business. But I know he’d really want you there no matter what’s going on and I know you’ll regret not going if you don’t.”

You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. He’s right. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Dyl.”

“Hell yeah,” Dylan cheers.

By the time you make it to St. Louis, you have to race to meet your friends in your seats and the cheer they send up is poorly timed, but it does make you smile. “Shitty seats.” You accept the bottle of Bud Light someone passes you.

Dylan laughs and points up to the giant platform next to you guys. “He’s going to be shooting from there in a while.”

“Alright.” You nod. “I guess this is acceptable then.”

It’s a good while before Matty and the rest of the guys participating in the Shooting Stars event start making their way up, but it’s nice to catch up with your other friends while you wait. If you got a big cheer when you rolled in, the one that goes up when Matthew walks by is deafening (and boostered by the friends of Brady’s that are sitting right behind you guys). The two of them look over at you guys, grinning already, and you see it in Matthew’s face when he spots you, the smirk softening a little and his eyes locking on you.

You’d read about moments where time stands still but it’d never actually happened to you until now. It’s like the crowd doesn’t exist around you, like you don’t actually need to breathe. The only thing that matters is the moment in time when your eyes meet Matty’s.

And that moment’s broken by Brady shoving him forward.

As you watch Matthew throughout the entirety of the last event, you know you’re screwed. You’ll get through this weekend, go back to school, and get over these thoughts by the time summer comes. Everything will be back to normal by the time you see Matty again.

In the meantime, you do your best to avoid him once the Skills Competition ends and you join everyone at the after party on the rooftop bar of the hotel. It’s easier than you think it would be to do. When Matty’s talking with some of your local friends, you find yourself catching up with both sets of your parents. When he starts making his way toward your parents, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You see him make a beeline towards the bar, so you dart off in the opposite direction, where Brady is talking with a couple of his Atlantic Division teammates and push yourself in between the height of him and Auston Matthews, which seems like a safe spot to hide.

“YN!” Auston grins, throwing his hands up in the air, in a drunken greeting that you’d love to be more lowkey.

You reach up and grab them, yanking them down. “Listen, I know it’s been a while since we’ve last hung out and all, and I know from the way you talk and dress and everything about you that this is a hard thing for you to comprehend, but I’m really going to need some subtlety from you.” Next to him, Mitch and Freddie burst into laughter. “Down low, boo. Down low.”

Auston is laughing as well and you remember that while the times you’ve spent with him have been few and far between, unable to visit Matthew as frequently during his time with the NTDP as you have been in Calgary, they’ve certainly been memorable...so moments like this are unshocking to him, to say the least.

They don’t even faze Brady, who’d grown up with both you and Matthew, and is merely looking at you with an entirely too familiar smirk and a raised brow. “What’s the subtlety for, YN?”

“Fuck off, Brady.” You flip your middle finger up at him quickly but it’s just enough time for the entire group of hockey players around you to pounce. You really should have known better.

“I knew something was up!” Auston grins.

“Nothing’s up.” You deny, very poorly.

“Really?” Brady grins. “‘Cause Matt’s like right there.” He points. “On his way here. So I guess if nothing’s wrong, you can-” He starts immediately laughing when you shove your way out of them.

You think you manage to lose your best friend by pushing through a large group of players and family from the Metro and Central divisions and throwing yourself out the door to the outdoor patio, which is mostly empty, despite the unseasonably warm winter St. Louis has been experiencing. You can see Brady, Auston, and Quinn laughing together through the glass door, but Matty’s nowhere to be found, and you sit down on the closest bench, taking a minute to just breathe.

“You gotta tell me what I did.” The voice scares you, but it shouldn’t, because you really should have known better than to think that Matty wouldn’t be able to find you.

When you look over at Matty on the bench beside you, you can’t think of another time he’s looked this devastated. Maybe that semi-final loss in World Juniors? Maybe? It’s all over his face and you can’t just leave him like this any longer. “It’s not you.” You tell him, holding back tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!” Matthew says, frustratedly.

“You can’t fix it!” You sniffle, trying to scoot away from him, to give yourself some distance, and feeling the tears start to fall when he closes that space again. “You can’t go back and stop Ashley from making me realize that I’m in love with you, okay? So you can’t fix this and I just-I need some time, Matty! Okay? I need some time!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” He breathes, like he’s only just recovered the ability to talk, which, he might have, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes, which puts you in a perfect position considering he’s already leaning toward you.

Matthew fumbles for a second, his hand reaching for your cheek and catching your ear instead with you turning, but he recovers quickly, stroking gently down the side of your face. You gasp, the kiss entirely unexpected, and Matty takes the opportunity to tug on your lip gently before pulling away and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact.

He smirks.

“Don’t be smug.” You shove at his shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid.” He repeats, pulling you closer. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t be in love with you?”

“I didn’t want to ruin us.” You tell him softly. “But I am willing to concede I was wrong.”

Matty grins. “Sure were. Can do this anytime I want now.” He kisses you again, leaving you just as breathless as before.

You suppose, at some point, that’ll start to wear off, but as the two of you trade lazy kisses on the rooftop, you can’t imagine that point ever coming. This is perfection, this is the piece of your relationship you didn’t even know was missing coming together, this is-

-Brady knocking on the window?

What?

You blink again, realizing where you’re at. Still on the rooftop bench, with your arm wrapped around Matty’s neck, your legs draped over his lap, and your face tucked into his shoulder. Matthew’s arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you close, and his head rests on top of yours. Somehow still asleep through all the banging Brady’s been doing.

“Matty.” You poke him awake.

“What?” He groans, sitting up.

“Brady.” Matthew looks over at the window, where Brady is still gesturing that it’s time to leave, with a very smug grin on his face. Matthew lifts one hand off your waist to flip his brother off, allowing you to climb off.

“You couldn’t have answered any of the texts we sent you?” Brady asks, once you step inside, but he doesn’t sound annoyed at all, still looking between the two of you with the biggest grin on his face.

Matthew shrugs. “Must have fallen asleep.”

“Bullshit.”

“You just saw us!”

Brady rolls his eyes, knowingly. “Just kiss her already.”

Matty grins. “Gladly.” And then he’s pressing a heated kiss against your lips, looping his arm around your waist, and it’s all you can do to grip his arm with one hand to keep yourself standing and flip off the crowd around you with your other as whoever’s left at this after party burst into applause and wolf-whistles.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk fanction #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey fanfic #my hockey fics

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void-tiger · 4 years

Text

It just isn’t practical to me for Shiro’s Scars to have come from the arena. Oh, he definitely has some, the majority being defensive, but they’re almost all superficial, and many of them already fading.

Because the Galra aren’t going to waste medical supplies treating gladiator, not even crowd favorites or careers, and certainly not the slaves and fodder. And despite Humans maxing out their endurance even if they’re not the fastest or strongest, bones and organ and skin are still very delicate things. They’re sturdy enough, but one bad fall or hit or wrenching motion is all it takes. Contusions and stress fractures can still be Very Bad if left untreated. And the galra would kill off a sick slave (or even another freeborn galra) rather than risk an epidemic.

“Victory or Death” —wipe out the weakness.

So Shiro’s fighting strategy is to quite literally DON’T GET HIT; Get Fast or Get Dead. Use his mind to outthink and use his “smaller” body and insanely high stamina (and stubborness) to out maneuver and outlast. Don’t be shy about killing blows or disabling strikes—it’s Them or You, and the Galra will either condemn them to a slow, agonizing death or put them down much more painfully than even you in arena conditions. (Also Jiro telling Keith to Just Let Go softly—he probably inherited that from Shiro. Shiro trying to comfort his opponant as he’s killing them, because Dying Isn’t An Option for Shiro, but he also knows that they both can’t survive, that the Galra will just kill the other slave, that the arena is lonely enough void of any scrap of kindness. But giving a swift or easing death? Making sure they won’t die ALONE? That he can do. Be the Angel of Death rather than be the Arena’s Champion.)

That doesn’t mean Shiro doesn’t rebel. He certainly does, and pays dearly for it. The only reason why he wasn’t struck down right then is because Sendak enjoys breaking his toys, and Shiro’s spirit is a delicious challenge he hasn’t seen in milennia. Sendak’s going to relish Champion.

That doesn’t mean Haggar and her Druids and Scientists and Androids won’t take Champion apart piece by piece to see how he’s made, how to put him back together again, see if Terrans are worth the effort to take as stock, see what sets Champion apart from the other two Terrans taken and every other known being she’s seen over her very long life. See what improvements she can make, ideas she can test. (Champion’s illness is also both a frustration but also a wonderful puzzle. She will FIX him. Make him BETTER. And he will be HERS and worship her for it.) Haggar is very deliberate in putting Champion back together again and sealing the wounds she left. But her methods still leave raised, angry-looking scars that are tender to the touch. (She’s careful not to damage nerves. Pain is a nuisance Champion will endure if he’s wise. But she made the mistake in causing a subject to lose feeling—he died soon after. Haggar never makes the same mistake twice.)

So when Shiro looks at himself, his back is a mottled mess of electric burnmarks left by his guards, he assumes. Viciously he doesn’t mind—GOOD. He fought back. They didn’t break him. He knows they didn’t...right? But. He gave them hell right back.

His remaining arm and hand and legs and feet are crisscrossed with faded slashes and sometimes dotted with double-Us left by teeth. Defensive marks. By color they were all presumably superficial. He fought, and he survived. They never got a good hit in. He’a both relieved and overwhelmed with horrible guilt—if he survived, that means they didn’t. He killed them. What kind of monster does that make him if he valued his own life over theirs? But what would’ve happened to his kids and Allura and Coran and the BlackLion if he didn’t? To the Universe? But. He still killed innocents. What right does he have to the Black Paladin mantle over Zarkon after that?

(His thighs and ass and pecks have much deeper bite wounds and claw marks. Shiro tries very, very hard not to think about them or to let anything touch these scars directly. Tries not to remember remember his instant recognition of Sendak, particularly his teeth and definitely his claws, both natural and artificial. How Sendak entering the Castle and hurting his friends and taunting him—don’tthinkdon’tthinknodon’tthinkabouthimtouchingyou—forces Shiro to lie awake or have a new set of nightmares. His guilt over that vicious relief when Sendak was finally gone and off the ship.)

Or the scar on his nose—Shiro hates how visible both it and the shock of white hair are (and how tender that part of his scalp is whenever he accidentally brushes it). He can’t hide it. Not unless he wants to keep his face covered for the rest of his life. He could dye his bangs back to black...if the Alteans even have hair dye. (Do they just change their haircolor like they do their height and skin when they’re bored??) But, other than being so visible and a testiment to the world about that year he can’t remember (probably for the best...right??) and his scalp being this constant itch and his face a raw, tender ache that pulls (and makes him have snuffled snores now. Snoring’s new...) they don’t exactly look bad.

Frosted bangs are a classic look. He’s never had them but he’d definitely been curious about it. (The GG’s just barely lax about haircuts, but still had a stick up their ass with dyed hair. And his faded undercut and bangs were already pretty expensive to have kept all the time.) And he can kinda pretend that his scar’s just the Voltron Symbol upside down—he doesn’t really put much stock in fate or destiny, but still. It’s a nicer thought than most. (His opinion sours slightly after seeing Shay suspended and muzzled. That contour. It’s the same one on his own face. At some point they muzzled him, but it either rubbed his skin raw, or didn’t fit him properly, or both.)

But the scars Shiro cannot avoid and definitely bother him—that mortician Y incision on his chest. It’s raw and it’s raised and it’s ragged. Someone cut into him, mucked about inside, sealed it up, used the same spot and did it all over again. It’s ugly and tender in a way none of his other scars are, and fills him with helpless rage when it catches (all the time) or he sees it (he tries So HARD not to look at it. He’d rather cover the bathroom mirror and use a hand one when he’s stuck shaving off his whiskers. He hated shaving before—it takes so damn long. He definitely hates it now, but traditional blades are slightly better than buzzing electric ones that close to his face and throat...if he doesn’t nick himself, anyway...) The raised lines that follow the contor inside his arms (well, what’s left of his right arm) and legs match in precision, but they’re not as angry looking, if slightly.

The reason Shiro learns why, though, is less than comforting. He could say that he’s Wolverine Now but. He didn’t consent to that. He didn’t consent to any of this, and they still violated him so thoroughly and invasively, anyway. And unlike his Arena Scars, the raw scars and callouses on his remaining wrist and ankles say that no matter how hard he tried to resist, they still got their way, anyway. They took him at his most helpless and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. And he wasn’t strong enough to keep things from progressing that far.

Before Kerberos, Shiro was already pretty modest. He didn’t like people staring at him or the snide remarks and other unwanted attention. He felt fairly comfortable in his own skin, but didn’t like either being jeered at for “not earning things” or dealing with people liking the way he looked but not really liking him (and okay so he’s tall and his eyes are unusual but...he just looks fairly average?? Trying to buy clothes is also awful—it’s always too tight or HUGE. How can awkward fits be attractive, anyway?)

After Kerberos. Well. He has a new set of reasons to not want the other paladins to see him even with just his shirt off. He doesn’t want to see his own scars, and he definitely doesn’t want to deal with anyone looking at him with pity or morbid fascination or revulsion (either because of his scars being so ugly looking...or worse, because of how he got them. For not being strong or smart enough to stop them, and instead became someone else’s pet to survive many times over. For getting them as “payment” for being unable to save his crew, and flying too damn well and landing them all in danger.)

#takashi shirogane #shiro #bp shiro #champion #prekerb shiro #shiro’s gap year of hell #shiro’s scars #shiro meta #shiro headcanons #long post #the muzzle and back and metal skeleton are not mine #mckinely pointed out what Shiro’s back probably looks like #I know Boss has made a fic about Shiro having his skeleton switched out on him #and idk the artist but there’s fanart with shiro getting his scar from a muzzle (it makes more sense than an arena wound ever will)#the rest of Shiro’s Scars are my own HC based on his fighting style + things Haggar and Sendak both alluded to in s1 #(even before getting much more...explicit. Sendak especially)#(Shiro was already coded as such. And Sendak’s comments while torturing him (and making Pidge listen to it)#(but. then season FRIKKIN FIVE AND SIX. look I already had those HC and hated them. but now they’re def all but canon.)#THANKS I HATE IT #on the flip side #I do HC that part of what Fascinated Haggar so much with Champion (so much so as to make and mature HUNDREDS of clones)#is that she discovered that Shiro already had BlackPaladin Quintessence despite Zarkon being the first BP and still living #and...well. besides wanting to Upgrade Champion and his illness being a Puzzle #and MOAR Champions = MOAR Ideal Test Subjects&Shit #she prolly also took Shiro’s Quintessence (and the developing clones) to beef up Zarkon even further #(then nearly exhausted her BP Grade Quintessence Farm after Shiro&Black with Voltron knocked Zarkon into a coma #(...and it still nearly failed ‘cause...well. Jiro’s quintessence is So Damn Close to Shiro’s but. He’s still not the BP #(Jiro’s simply just Close Enough for Black to sense via a preLink and eventually fly with.#(he’s closer than the others save Allura if Black didn’t stubbornly want SHIRO back (and thought Keith could do it which didn’t happen rip)#(but he’s still not the BP and doesn’t quite have Shiro’s stamina (altho a witch in his brain? it’s impressive he can fly at all)

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jazziwritesthings · 4 years

Text

We Were - Derek Hale

Inspired by We Were by Keith Urban

Lyrics in Bold

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 2082

Warnings: Cancer, Death, maybe swears

A/N: I’m Sorry.

*******

We were just a couple years short of the age By my name on a fake ID And still 'bout a hundred away from the day Your daddy said you could run with me We were a couple of line steppers Who just couldn't wait to step over the line

Derek met you when you were both 17. You tried so hard to try to get him to trust you. He wasn’t about to let himself get invested in someone again. Not after Paige. It had only been a few years and Derek was still broken about it, but that was something that would never leave him. He knew he couldn’t make that mistake again. No, he wouldn’t, or so he thought. After almost a year you had worn him down and got him to open up a bit. He liked being around you. You made him feel like a normal teenager. Then the fire happened. You got a call from an unknown number, it was Derek at the sheriff station. He asked if you could pick him up. You borrowed your dad’s car and definitely went over the speed limit trying to reach him as fast as possible. You ran into the sheriff's station and saw him just sitting on a bench. You walked over and stood in front of him. Without warning he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head into your stomach. You could feel his shaking and eventually you heard his sobs. You just stood there playing with his hair telling him you loved him, all while trying to keep the sound of your sobbing controlled.

We were gonna make it, weren't we, baby? Had it all laid out in our mind By the time we knew time was runnin' out We done run out of time

He had to leave Beacon Hills. He had no choice, he was a minor and now Laura was his guardian, and she couldn’t stay here. You understood why but you didn’t want to be separated from your best friend. The day they left was one of the toughest days of your life. You and Derek had spent the night in your room. Your dad wasn’t around much since your mom passed, so it was always just you and him. That night was the night when you both admitted you loved each other, more than just friends. That was the night you gave him everything and he gave everything to you. The next morning was rough. The car was already packed and Laura was just waiting for Derek. You stood in front of the garage with your hands on his chest and his on your waist with your foreheads touching. “I love you so much. Promise you won’t forget me?” He let out a slight laugh/sigh and pressed one last kiss to your lips, “ I promise.”

And we were leather jackets hangin' onto a Harley Two heartbeats in the moonlight

The first year he was gone he had tried to keep in contact with you. It wasn’t easy, he didn’t have a phone and could only reach you by pay phone. Laura said it wasn’t a good idea to keep that kind of stuff because it meant that hunters could track them easier. Derek would never tell you that part. As far as you knew, he was normal. His whole family was normal and the fire was an accident. Eventually it got hard for him to keep contacting you. Every time he heard your voice or you told him things that were happening around Beacon Hills he became so homesick and it reminded him too much of his family. It hurt too much for him to continue. He didn’t mean for it to happen how it did. He just quit calling and writing and before he knew it, six years had gone by. Laura had told him she had some business to attend to and that she would be back in a few weeks. When she didn’t call Derek at all the first week he started to worry. He finally went through Laura’s things and found where she had gone and why. She had gone home. He packed what little they had and raced back to Beacon Hills.

He arrived and it seemed like nothing had changed. Everything looked the same and honestly he felt homesick all over again. He didn’t know where to go so he went to the only place he knew he could. Walking up the front steps of his childhood home brought up a lot of pleasant memories. Most of them were his mom sitting on those stairs giving some of the best advice she could offer. He looked around the porch and noticed there were bouquets everywhere. Some were very dead and others looked semi-fresh. He’d been there about a day when he heard someone pull up in a car. He secretly watched out of the upstairs window. As soon as she got out of the car Derek knew who it was immediately. He could smell her all the way up the stairs and she still smelled the same. He got brave and quietly went down the stairs. He watched as she turned and walked back to her car. He walked out onto the porch, “ Y/n?” You froze at the sound of your name. In all the years you were coming here no one had even stepped foot on the property. You turned around and were surprised to see a man standing there staring at you, “ I’m sorry. Do I know you?” He walked off the porch and when the sunlight lit up his features she took a step back, “ Derek?” He looked at you with a huge smile on his face, “Yeah.” You looked at him for only a moment before your mind was made up. You walked over to him and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss. The butterflies and the fire were still there. You had had other boyfriends before, but none of them ever measured up to Derek. No matter how hard you tried nobody could compare to him. It wasn’t that long before he disappeared on you again. You shouldn’t have been surprised but you were, and it still hurt just as much as the first time.

At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter Though a part of me is always gonna miss her I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were

You had always remembered your time with Derek fondly. He was your first, for just about everything. You had tried to get into contact with him through the teenagers he had here. They periodically checked up on you and you assumed they reported back to him. Eventually they stopped coming around. So when you got sick, there was no way to tell Derek. Your doctors told you it wasn't a great chance. The surgery could work or it could make it worse, you may not even make it out. You had done what felt like hundreds of rounds of chemo and nothing was working to get the tumor to shrink. It was in a place that was very hard to operate. It was in your brain. There was a chance that if they were able to get it that the cancer wouldn’t return. You knew the risk of surgery was dying, but if you didn’t try you were going to die anyway. Before you went in for surgery you wrote a letter and mailed it to the McCall house, addressed to Derek.

Friends say, "Oh well, let that ship sail" "You gotta let go of her" "Just wasn't meant to be" But somewhere down deep I still believe That we were

When Derek finally returned to Beacon Hills he went to Scott’s house first. The boy had said he had something important for Derek. Derek knocked and waited before Scott opened the door. “Hey man! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for like a year!” Derek nodded, “ Yeah I was busy, what do you have for me?” Scott picked an envelope off the coffee table and handed it to him. He read the return address and when he saw your name he froze a bit. “Okay.” He left Scott’s house without another word. He walked to your old house and saw that there was a different family living there. He decided to just walk while he read.

Dear Derek,

Hey. You know I was never any good at this sort of thing, but I figured this would get to you eventually. I want you to know that you are my best friend. I can tell you that I would not have survived my teenage years if it wasn’t for you. I know I wouldn’t have made it through the time after my mom died without you. I need you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Even though you did ignore me for most of our 20s. You need to know that no matter what I love you. Always. I don’t care how many bad things happen, you are and forever will be my person. I couldn’t have lived this life without you. So thank you.

Derek quit walking and chose to sit down on the sidewalk. This felt like a goodbye.

I know I know. I’m getting all sappy and you hate that sorta stuff. Deal with it. What I’m about to say is going to make you angry. I kept a secret from you. I got sick. I know we all thought it wasn’t a genetic thing and that I would be okay, but I’m not. I’m sick and I’m going to die. I’ve had so many rounds of chemo that I can’t even tell you how many. So many failed attempts at remission. The tumor is in my brain. I’m opting to have a surgery to try and remove it. If the surgery works then I should be cancer free. If the surgery doesn’t work, well that would mean I would die. So either way I’m pretty screwed, the chances of survival with the surgery are about 5%. So either way I guess. I don’t want you to be angry. I know you're not mad at me, you’re going to be so angry at yourself for leaving me but Derek it’s what had to happen. I’m glad you haven’t seen me lately. I don’t feel or even look like myself. Remember me how I was that night. You know the one. So I guess this is a goodbye. I never thought we would have to do this. I’m sorry Derek. Please keep living for me. I love you. Y/n

By the time he finished reading he felt completely numb. You were gone. He would never hear your voice again. He would never kiss you or hold you again. He stood up and ran. He ended up at a spot that you and him had been so many times. He walked over and his gut was right. Where there had been one stone for so many years, there were now two. He walked over and sat down in front of it. He ran his hand over the words, Y/n L/n The light of everyone’s life. The date was from over a year before. You had been gone a year and he didn’t even know it. The love of his life was gone and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. He all of a sudden couldn’t breathe. He was a mess of tears and sobs. He put his head in his hands. If he would’ve known he could’ve done something. He could’ve gotten you turned. As soon as that thought crossed his mind he got angry. He couldn’t have saved you. If you had known about him and the supernatural, you wouldn’t have wanted the bite. You wouldn’t want it because it would’ve changed everything. He was pacing now. His anger and grief got the best of him as he let out a very loud roar. He knew all of Beacon Hills probably heard it, but at the moment he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was gone and never coming back. He looked down at the head stone before kissing his fingers and placing them gently on the top, “ I love you too.”

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years

Note

What do you think the Animorphs would be like playing D&D? Not "the Animorphs in a D&D world", but the Animorphs actually sitting down and having a campaign of D&D. Like the classes/races they'd pick, their play styles, wacky shenanigans (because we all know it would happen).

[Credit to Cates for 100% of the character builds, and most of the lore, in this AU. In case you were wondering, I’m the Jake-style “never read the manual” chaotic-dumbass bard of our campaign; she’s the Marco-style “uses the rules exactly as much or little as needed” DM.]

It was decided almost right away that one on the team had any alignment. As DM, Marco attempted to start there, only to have Ax begin questioning whether the manual’s explanations of “good” and “evil” truly captured human ethics on a grand scale. Tobias claimed that Ax was looking at it all wrong, that the moralities were only default behavior types within the game, and that within this particular context morality didn’t matter. Cassie got very concerned about the idea of context-dependent morality, Rachel declared that the book was stupid and short-sighted for claiming that destroying things was always bad, Jake quietly asked for the fourth or fifth time if this game was actually a good idea…

“Fine!” Marco announced. “You’re all amoral characters. Happy?”

“‘Amoral’ implies that we’re immoral, doesn’t it?” Cassie asked. “Or that we exist outside the spectrum of moralities?”

“Just…” Marco rolled his eyes. “Everyone leave that spot on your character sheet blank, okay? If it ever comes up, we’ll deal with it on a case-by-case basis.”

“Yes,” Ax said, “although you never did answer my question about the implied ethical structure of this universe.”

After that, character creation went fairly smoothly. Kind of.

“Why does Dennis need a backstory, again?” Jake asked, looking down at his sheet.

“Dennis?” Marco said. “Dennis?

“You already said I wasn’t allowed to use ‘Dylan’ or ‘Brad’, so…’”

“C’mon man, this is D’nD. There are no Dennises in medieval fantasy epics.”

“Fine.” Jake crossed out and rewrote the name at the top of his character sheet. “Why does Keith need a backstory?”

“To explain his motivation.”

“You just said that the whole time we’re going to be chased around by orcs and whatnot. Isn’t not dying enough motivation?”

“You really don’t understand this game, do you?” Rachel said.

“I really don’t understand this game,” Jake agreed.

“My character’s a dragonborn rogue named Joan, and she’s the greatest gymnast of all time.” Rachel added a Dexterity marker to her sheet with a flourish.

“I thought I was a dragonborn,” Jake said. “Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, we can have as many dragonborns as you all want.” Marco shrugged. “We just can’t have multiple bards. And since you called dibs on that class, and Rachel wants to be a rogue, we’re fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jake said. “I just want to help out the team. Or, uh, Keith does?”

“Great.”

“So that’s my backstory, right? Being a bard?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, at the same time Marco said, “No!”

In the end, Marco declared that if neither Rachel nor Jake could come up with a proper backstory, he was making their characters cousins. Tobias, who had a better flair for the romantic, declared that said cousins were from an internationally feared family of highwaymen.

“So does that get us any extra skills, coming from a family of pirates?” Rachel asked.

“Maybe it’d explain how good your character is at gymnastics,” Jake said. “Because of riggings and all.”

“Highwaymen.” Marco looked up from where he was trying to salvage Keith’s stats from the hopeless tangle of Jake’s incorrect math. “Tobias said you guys are highwaymen, not pirates.”

“What are pirates but highwaymen of the sea?” Tobias asked, tilting his head in thought.

“Just put us down as jewel thieves.” Rachel made a note on her own sheet. “Jewel thieves of diverse methodology. Wherever jewels can be found, there we are with threats of violence to take them away.”

“By the way, why is Ax now a tiefling?” Tobias asked Marco.

“I told Marco I have no preference for my class and race,” Ax said. “And the word is most pleasant, tea-fling. Ffflllling.”

“They’re blue and have tails.” Marco smirked at Tobias. “It’s perfect!”

Rachel and Jake might’ve been vague on the idea of backstory, but Ax was quite definite.

“I am Eldrias the tiefling, fffflllling, paladin. She was raised by cows,” he announced.

“Don’t you mean raised by wolves?” Jake said. “Isn’t that a thing, raised by wolves?”

“Uh-huh,” Marco said, “since your land-pirates make perfect sense.”

“Wolves are beautiful animals, but they pale in comparison to cows,” Ax said. “Among other things, wolves’ meat is not so succulent and does not pair nearly as well with french fries.”

“Okay then,” Jake said, “raised by cows. Got it.”

Becoming a barbarian was Cassie’s idea. She spun through the manual in a rapid burst of pages, brushing gentle fingertips over the beautifully rendered illustrations, and then pressed it shut. “Barbarian,” she said. “That’s the one that can protect the team the best, right? So I’ll be a barbarian.”

Marco laughed. “All right then. Barbarian it is. Anything else in mind, for this barbarian of yours?”

Cassie tapped a finger against her lower lip, fluttering through the first several pages of the manual once again. “I could make my character a big, tall guy, right?”

“Sure.”

“But I want pointy ears.” She grinned at the rest of the table, somewhat sheepish.

“Half-elf barbarian, then?”

“Half-elf barbarian.” Cassie looked down at the sheet in front of her. “He can be named Reisgalan Von Schwartzel of the Morsgalath Half-Elves, Lord of the Plains and Wielder of…” She glanced around. “What’s that thing with the spiky ball on a stick?”

“Mace,” Rachel provided.

“Mace is that spray you use on bears and muggers,” Jake said.

“And it’s also a spiky ball on a stick.” Marco glanced at Cassie’s sheet. “You have a backstory for Reisgalan Von Whatshisface?”

“Hmmmm. Can I be widowed and have a tragically dead prince I must avenge?”

“Is it me?” Jake smiled hopefully.

“What?” Cassie frowned at him. “No. That’d be horrible.” She looked over at Marco. “Uh, can my character be a guy and also have a dead husband? Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, sure,” Marco said. “I’m the ruler of this universe, so I say it’s fine. And Tobias is the designated rules lawyer, so he’ll probably have some reason that it’s not.”

“I am not rules-lawyering!”

Marco looked at Ax’s character sheet, and then pointedly back up at Tobias. “Ax, how did you end up as not just a paladin, but a paladin that’s even more overpowered than the standard build?”

“Paladins are allowed.” Tobias shrugged. “It’s right there in the manual.”

“Ax, how you have splint armor?” Marco demanded.

“Paladins can wear Heavy armor,” Tobias sing-songed.

Marco growled.

Ax squinted at his character sheet. “Tobias says when I get to Level Three, I will take the Oath of Vengeance and take a Vow of Enmity. I will know the spells Thunderous Smite, Command, and Detect Magic.”

Marco’s face was turning an interesting shade of red.

“Oh, and Eldrias the paladin is taking Great Weapon as her Fighting Style.” Tobias wasn’t bothering to hide his smirk. “It’s all perfectly legal.”

Ax frowned at Marco. “Banging your head against the table with that level of force may have an adverse effect on your brain’s ability to function.”

“I’m not rules-lawyering for selfish gain,” Tobias said loftily, looking over Marco’s prone form. “And besides, Ax is new at this. He needs all the help he can get.”

“You find yourselves in a magical land.” Marco made a wild gesture in the air. It was probably meant to look dramatic and mysterious. “A land known as Falicornia.”

“Marco sucks at naming things,” Rachel whispered loudly.

“Rachel sucks at listening,” Marco whispered more loudly.

“You were saying?” Jake asked.

“This magical land is under threat from the dread god Cthulu! You must stop him through using the Philosopher’s Stone, which is powerful but cannot be used except by those who do not wish to use it. It contains many powerful temptations for the bearer. You must journey across the land, facing many dangers, to bring it to the only magical mirror that can destroy it before Cthulu has the chance to rise from that mirror and take over the world.”

Cassie raised her hand.

“Yes?” Marco said.

“Why does Cthulu want to take over the world?” she asked. “Does he need it for something?”

Marco sighed. “He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu. Any other questions?”

“First question: did you steal more of this plot from The Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter?” Rachel said immediately. “Second question—” She turned to Ax. “Have we showed you those movies?”

“He’s reading the books first,” Tobias said.

“I’m reading the books first,” Ax agreed.

“You were saying about Cthulu,” Jake said to Marco.

“Yes. He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu,” Marco glared at Rachel. “Just because.“

“Actually,” Tobias said, “the original version of Cthulu was kind of like the Silver Surfer of Norse Mythology, and his motivation—”

“He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu.” Marco took a deep breath. “Anyway. Moving on.”

“Okay, you’re here.” Marco pointed to the G.I. Joe figure sitting in the middle of their somewhat crudely drawn map. “The goblins are…” One after another, he set four white pawns from his mom’s chess set around the G.I. Joe that represented Jake, forming a half-circle that separated him from Ax’s Smurf, Cassie’s My Little Pony miniature, and Tobias’s Precious Moments angel figurine. “Rachel is, uh…” He set the teddy bear pencil topper several inches back, between two goblin-pawns. “There. So.” Marco looked up at Jake. “You’re under attack. You’re up first in initiative order. What’re you going to do?”

Jake frowned, surveying the scene in front of him. “I have magic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, so I’ll use magic to turn myself into a bird, and then—”

“Yeah, no.”

“Then I’ll turn my teammates into birds, and they can—”

“You cannot turn yourself into a bird, you cannot turn anyone else into a bird, no one is turning into a bird or any other animal at any point in this game.” Marco glanced over at Tobias. “No offense.”

“Oh, I totally agree,” Tobias said. “A Level One bard performing an animal shapes transmutation? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Anyway.” Marco pointed at Jake’s G.I. Joe figurine. “Assuming we’re sticking to handheld weapons, what else do you want to do?”

“I… shoot the goblin?” Jake suggested. “With my…” He flipped over his character sheet, squinting at his own handwriting. “With my board-sword.”

“Pretty sure you meant ‘broadsword,’” Rachel said. “Okay, Jake killed the goblin, now what?”

Cassie peered over Jake’s shoulder. “It could just be a sword made out of boards, you don’t know.”

“Jake only has thirteen out of sixty odds of killing the goblin on one go,” Marco said.

Tobias flipped open his own manual to the entry on goblins. “Where are you getting these numbers from?”

Marco selected two dice from the pile, handing them both to Jake. “Oh, I just figure that if the goblin’s got an armor class of seven and five HP, then Jake’s got a thirteen-in-twenty chance of scoring a hit and then a two-in-six chance of it being deadly, given his hit dice. So if you reduce twenty-six over one-twenty down it’s thirteen in sixty. Like, point-two-one-seven out of one. Simple math.” He gestured at Jake. “Roll those.”

“You and I have very different definitions of the word ‘simple.’” Jake looked up. “Uh, ten and the other one says four?”

“You grievously injured but did not kill the goblin,” Marco said graciously. “Now it’s the turn for this leftmost goblin, who is going to run and stick a sword through Rachel…” He rolled, and winced. “That’s fifteen to hit, and two damage?”

“What’s that mean for my little rogue?” Rachel waved her pencil topper at him.

“You got stabbed,” Marco said.

“Uh-huh.” Rachel picked up her pen and sheet. “Where?”

Marco shrugged. “The leg, let’s say. Uh, upper thigh?”

“Mm-hmm.” She wrote that down.

“Okay, then.” Marco glanced at his sheet. “Next in initiative order is—”

“I cast psionic blast as a Level One spell, which would cause additional damage to fiends or the undead. Are they undead goblins?” Tobias asked.

Marco rolled his eyes. “Nope.”

“Then they each suffer three points of damage and do not have the opportunity to make saving throws for the next minute and a half,” Tobias said. “That’s my first spell slot today.”

“Okay.” Marco tipped over one of the goblin pawns. “That one’s dead. Cassie?”

“That one’s threatening Ax?” She pointed at the pawn within the same square as the Smurf figurine.

“Yep.”

She nodded. “Then I smash its head in with my mace.” She rolled. “Eight to hit, eight damage?”

“Oh yeah, you just annihilated that one.”

“Good, good, so now can I mace the one that attacked Rachel?”

“Cool your jets.” Marco held up both hands. “You don’t get to do multiple hulk-smashes in one round until several levels up from here.”

Cassie wilted a little. “Okay. But I want to run over next to that one to be ready to mace it soon.”

“All right, center goblin is going to try and swing his big old greatsword at Cassie as an attack of opportunity…” Marco rolled. “And that’s a miss. Rachel, you’re up.”

“I’m unconscious,” Rachel said.

Marco gave her a blank look. “No you’re not.”

“Yes she is,” Ax said. “You just allowed that goblin— gob-blin? Goo-blin? —to stab her.”

“I did not allow— The dice—” Marco took a deep breath. “Rachel, you only took two points of damage. Go ahead and make a turn.”

“Okay, you clearly said…” Rachel glanced at her own notes. “That the goblin stuck its sword through my upper thigh. And apparently these are pretty big swords. No way in hell that misses the artery, not if I’m only about human-sized at the time. You also said that the goblin has its sword back, which means it pulled the sword out, which means that by now I have definitely lost enough blood to be unconscious. It’s just basic logic.”

Marco opened his mouth halfway. “That’s not how damage functions in this game,” he said at last.

“No, she’s right,” Jake said. “She wouldn’t necessarily be dead from blood loss by now, but on the super-narrow chance she’s still conscious, she’s not going to have the, like, grip strength to be shooting people with arrows or anything. That’s just how getting stabbed works.”

“Actually…” Tobias looked up from where he was sorting his flash cards of wizard spells. “In combat time, each turn is six seconds. So it hasn’t been five minutes of game-time. It’s been less than three seconds.”

“So this goblin managed to stick its sword all the way through me, pull it loose, and then get back into position to make a different attack in less than a second?” Rachel said. “And I don’t need to take a second or two to react to having been stabbed?”

“Yes!” Tobias said.

“This game is not closely aligned with the timing and functions of real combat,” Ax pointed out.

Marco let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a shriek. “No shit, Sherlock! Can we please just play by the rules?”

“I’m just saying it’s not realistic,” Rachel muttered. “You get run through the leg with a sword, you bleed to death. That’s how it goes.”

“Would you please shoot someone already?” Marco said.

“If you insist.”

At Level Two, Tobias’s gnome wizard joined the School of Divination for exactly one game. “He’s rules-lawyering things that haven’t even happened yet,” Marco cried, throwing out his hands like this was the greatest injustice ever visited upon humanity. At which point Tobias decided that discretion was the better part of valor and switched to the School of Evocation. Marco’s eye stopped twitching.

“No, no, no.” Marco leaned over to look at Jake’s roll. “You add your charisma modifier to your attack roll, and then your strength modifier to your damage roll.”

“So he adds twelve to his roll?” Cassie looked at her own sheet. “I add seventeen to my roll?”

“Modifier. Not the whole stat. Mod-if-i-er.” Marco groaned loudly. “Is Tobias the only one who even tried to read the manual?”

“C’mon, man.” Jake shrugged, grinning. “When have you ever known me to do the assigned reading?”

“I have Tobias here to summarize the manual for me,” Rachel pointed out. “Why bother?”

“I did attempt to read the manual. Man. Well. It was not the most boring human book ever written, but it was very repetitive.” Ax glanced around at all of them. “Not to say that all human books are bad, even if they are all repetitive,” he added quickly. “Take the books of Harry Potter, which are acceptable in addition to being repetitive.”

“‘Acceptable’?” Tobias shook his head. “‘Repetitive’? You, sir, are wounding my entire species — one of my species — Just don’t diss the Potter.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ professor,” Ax intoned.

Laughing, Tobias leaned over to bump their shoulders together. “I take it back. I love you, Ax-man. Never change.”

“Anyway,” Cassie said, “we elected Tobias party leader, so he’s the only one who really needs to know how to play, right?”

“‘Elected’ is a pretty strong word for it. The way I remember it, I was like…” Marco put on a deeper voice, “‘Who wants to be party leader?’ and Jake yelled ‘NOT IT’ so loud that he probably startled pigeons in the next county over. And then Tobias was the first one to recover from the shock long enough to volunteer.”

“I didn’t yell it, I said it,” Jake mumbled. “Said it enthusiastically.”

“And you’re wrong. We did nose-goes.” Rachel tapped her own nose to demonstrate. “Tobias lost.”

Ax’s eyes widened. “So you and Cassie covering your noses was a primitive selection procedure in the manner of duck-duck-goose? I thought we were all simply being polite by hiding our hideous human orifices from one another.”

“Anyway,” Tobias said, “as party leader, I’m declaring that we can whine about noses — and bipedalism — at a later time. For now, let’s play.”

“Ah, yes.” Ax looked down at the dice, and then back up at Marco. “Who was attacking whom, again?”

Marco stared around the board, and then back at the dice. “Like I remember that now!”

It was a small miracle that they all kept showing up after that first week. Tobias and Marco were the only ones with both the skill and the enthusiasm to be any good at the game. Cassie and Rachel lacked the necessary motivation: Cassie tended to get lost in long conversations with NPCs and never advanced the plot at all, whereas Rachel was likely to start climbing the walls with impatience after half an hour of sitting still. Ax and Jake were both reasonably enthusiastic but terrible: Jake paid no attention at all to the math, and Ax paid too much. They had one set of dice between the six of them, if one was generous and called rolling a d6 twice the same as rolling a d12. (It wasn’t, but Marco’s and Ax’s attempts to explain this always made everyone else’s eyes glaze over.)

Seriously, though, Marco knew perfectly well why they kept showing up. And it had nothing to do with everyone getting on board with Tobias’s super-geeky idea. They’d tried Dungeons and Dragons, and they hadn’t actually started liking it.

It had nothing to do with the storyline. Or the dice. Or the characters. They weren’t here for swords or goblins. They didn’t drop everything to spend four hours a week in each other’s company because they liked the game.

Duh.

Of course, even their love for each other could be tested, at times, by their sheer incompetence as players.

“We’re still in the undercave?” Jake groaned, looking at the game board. “We’ve been down here for like six weeks!”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re stuck.” Rachel glared around the table. “Because we keep trying to fight the ooze monster and then almost dying. Because we suck at this game.”

“Still say there should’ve been illithids,” Tobias muttered. “We’re in the cave of the illithids, but instead we’ve got apocalyptic ooze where there isn’t supposed to be any. That’s why we’re stuck.”

Marco sighed into his hands. “For the last time, man, we’re not having any stupid mind flayers in this game. There is a way out, I promise you, if you guys would just stop and figure it out.”

“I stab the ooze?” Cassie suggested.

“You take fourteen acid damage and permanently blunt your sword.” Marco didn’t bother to look up. “Just like last time.”

“Ugh.” Cassie wrote down her new HP. “At least I ruled out repeated stabbing as a way out?”

“Okay, okay.” Jake stared at the game board, yet again failing to take the this map not to scale memo. “We can figure this out. Is it a cave kind of like those caves under Leeran?”

Marco lifted his head, tossing his hair out of his face. “I got schlooped back to Earth before you guys got to see those, remember?”

“They were very beautiful,” Ax said, “and also full of toxic eels. So perhaps Prince Jake’s comparison is apt.”

“The real toxic eel is the friends we made along the way.” Rachel tilted her chair back, picking at her manicure. “Think we should just call it a day?”

“No, no, Jake’s right.” Cassie stared at the board. “I believe in us.”

“It was kinda cool in the Leeran caves, so sorry you missed it,” Jake said to Marco. “I was dead and missed the Battle of Trafalgar, though, so it all balances out?”

“The Battle of Trafalgar was not cool at all.” Marco rolled his eyes. “It was a battle. It was gross and loud and bloody. Is no one going to try anything else?”

“I pull out my rope and my flint, I set the rope on fire, we all die of smoke inhalation,” Rachel drawled. “There, I got us out of the cave.”

“And into the afterlife,” Ax said solemnly. “If, indeed, this game has an afterlife. It was designed by humans, so I assume… Soom. That it must.”

“Look, if we could just fight the mind flayer instead,” Tobias said, “there are clear strategies in place for how to fend off psychic attacks, and even if a few of us end up as mind-witnesses we could still use a handful of different spells—” He swung his copy of the manual around to face Marco, pointing to a spot low on the open page. “If you’ll just look at what the book says…”

Marco slammed the book shut, hard.

Tobias had to yank his hand back to avoid smashed fingers. “Watch it!” he snapped.

“Guys,” Jake said. “Let’s—”

“Rule. Zero.” Marco flattened a hand on top of the closed book. “I’m the DM here, and I get to say that there are no mind flayers and definitely no mind witnesses, because I say so. I’m the Ellimist of this little universe, and you don’t get a counter-argument.”

Rachel snorted loudly. “Bad comparison. Tobias argues with the real Ellimist all the time.”

“Only when he’s doing something stupid.” Tobias was looking at Marco, not at her. “Or breaking the rules of his own game.”

“Tobias…” Jake inhaled slowly, massaging the bridge of his nose. “It’s just a game, okay? Marco… We are kinda stuck, dude, no offense. Couldn’t we at least try to fight whatever it is Tobias wants, see if that gets us out of here?”

Marco pushed to his feet, face flushed. “I’m running this game, because you people decided I should. And I don’t give a fuck how much Bird-Boy complains, this game is not going to involve anyone getting psychically mind-controlled. It will not feature alien tadpoles that crawl inside people’s brains and take over their bodies.” He swept a hand across the board. “There will be no illithids, there will be no brain golems, there will be no controllers—”

Marco snapped his mouth shut.

There was a long silence. Tobias stared at the floor.

“Mind-witnesses,” Marco said at last. “I meant mind-witnesses.”

THUNK.

Figurines and dice scattered everywhere. The play-dough lump of ooze flattened underneath the second game board Cassie had just dropped on top of the first.

“Anyway,” she said, giving everyone an embarrassed smile. “How about we switch to Monopoly for a while?”

“I call being the little dog piece,” Rachel said, pulling the box open.

“I’m sorry,” Tobias whispered to Marco, as Ax began clattering through the pieces and asking Jake questions. “I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah.” Marco pulled the bank toward him and counting out notes. “Same here, man. Uh, y’know. Sorry I…”

“We’re cool. We’re cool?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Does this highly successful roll mean I have first chance to stab Income Tax with my—” Ax squinted at his game piece “—car? So I’ll be attempting to inflict damage on Income Tax by running it over?”

“Many have tried that strategy,” Rachel intoned. “None have succeeded so far.”

“You know that your beloved manual lists exactly the same stats for hawks, eagles, and owls, right?” Marco asked, grinning evilly.

“What? No.” Tobias frantically flipped toward the back of the book.

“Anyway, is he right?” Cassie asked as Tobias searched. “Are we all supposed to be dead right now?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Marco said. “Yes, the explosion would have done a lot of damage to all of you—”

“Thanks, Jake,” Rachel snarked.

Jake sighed loudly. “How was I supposed to know you had to throw the hand grenade after you pulled the pin?”

“You mean the part where Ax and Tobias were both yelling ‘toss it, toss it,’ and you were like ‘no, I’m gonna do an investigation check first’?” she said. “And then we all died?”

“Actually, I believe Cassie was raging at the time when the ceiling fell on us all,” Ax said. “Therefore, her damage would be halved.”

“Hell yeah!” Cassie laughed. “So it’s just…” She peered at Marco’s roll and winced. “Everyone else… in the entire party… who automatically failed a death check. Right, Tobias?”

“No,” Marco said loudly, “because Jake cast Teleportation Circle and got you all out of there before the ceiling fell.”

“But Tobias believes that that would be allowing too many actions on a single turn. Uurn. Earn,” Ax said. “And that Jake wouldn’t have time to set up the circle even if he did have a bonus action left.”

“For fuck’s sake, do you want to end on a total party kill?” Marco demanded.

Rachel smiled sweetly. “It’s not a TPK if Cassie’s still alive.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Oh, in that case—”

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Tobias sounded outraged.

“Am I dead?” Rachel pouted. “Just when this stupid game was starting to grow on me.”

“No, not that.” Tobias stabbed a finger on the page. “It says right here. ‘For hawk, see: eagle.’ It fucking classifies hawks as a fucking subspecies of eagle!”

“What were you just saying about us following the manual at the expense of our lives?” Marco said smugly.

Tobias stared in betrayed horror at the page for another second. And then he tossed the entire book clear over his shoulder and out of the room. It clattered loudly in the hall.

“So as I was saying, Jake cast Teleportation Circle,” Marco said. “And teleported you all out of there.”

“So we’re… not dead?” Cassie asked.

“Given the nature of teleportation, perhaps we are both dead and not, existing in the gap between states,” Ax said. “Like when our consciousness was trapped in z-space, and yet our matter remained on Earth. Or we exist in multiple universes at once, some in which we have died and some in which we yet live.”

“Yeah, cool, Schrödinger’s party,” Rachel said. “Blah, blah. Anyway, I’m gonna punch Jake in the arm for being a dumbass. In-game and out-of-game.”

“Good luck with that.” Marco cackled his evil DM cackle. “The only universe I care about is the one where the whole lot of you give me an initiative roll. Because I didn’t say Jake teleported you to a safe location, just a different one.”

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avidbeader · 4 years

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CW: Voltron S8 talk, VLD S8 talk, Shiro’s marriage, ship wars

I’ve been seeing an influx of new VLD fans in the last several months – guess people have more time to watch shows – and it’s brought in a new wave of Sheith fans. And that’s lovely – having more people to create and cheer is a good thing. I know I’ve pointed a lot of people at “Sheith the Movie” so they can have just the Sheith (all 3.5 hours of their scenes with some context) if they want.

However, even if the new fans have been aware of how toxic the klanti shippers were (Klance fans who resorted to slander, harassment, and threats to both other fans and the show’s cast and crew in an attempt to force the studio to make their ship canon), I’m seeing some conflict crop up because some new fans aren’t aware of just how ugly things got in 2018, that most of the people who embraced Shiro and the random groom as a ship were the same people who had spent the previous two years attacking Sheith fans.

In June, we had Season 6. Keith and Lance interaction was at an all-time low. Keith said “I love you” to Shiro in what he thought was a dying confession. Yes, it was preceded by “You’re my brother (in arms)”, but interviews with showrunners like story editor Josh Hamilton made it clear that Keith was trying his best to encapsulate just how important Shiro was to him (without saying that they almost certainly had to include the “brother” line to give DW executives plausible deniability).

In July, we had the SDCC showing of Season 7’s first episode and the confirmation that Shiro is an LGBT character. Klance fans jumped all over the character of Shiro’s ex-boyfriend Adam, because in their minds he would be the key to invalidating Sheith. The media properly observed that Shiro and Adam had broken up over very profound issues and drew the conclusion that if Shiro were to get an on-screen romance in the remainder of the series, Keith was the obvious choice.

In August, we had Season 7. Instead of the heartfelt Shiro/Adam reunion klantis were salivating for, we saw Adam get killed in the Galra invasion. And the klantis rose up, hurling so many unjustified accusations of “fridging” or “bury your gays” over a minor character with a total of maybe three minutes of screen time, that JDS actually had to put his name to an unnecessary apology from the studio.

We also had Keith and Shiro’s backstory, showing just how close of friends they became after Shiro helped Keith join the Garrison, AND Keith saving Shiro yet again. While Lance and Allura continued to grow closer. Because it was clear that the producers had never once considered making Keith and Lance a thing, klanti fans went ballistic with their slander, accusing Sheith of being pedophilic and incestuous when neither accusation has any canon basis at all.

And in December, we got Season 8. Season 8 with a mostly new set of writers who didn’t do their research. Season 8 that tried to cram in too much excess content while finishing up a major plotline. Season 8 that finally showed that the producers had never fully thought through or sought input for handling Shiro, a character they’d originally planned to kill off, decided to make their LGBT rep when told to keep him, and then failed to pick up the strong story arcs he had in the first seasons. And because studio execs gave JDS and LM a single day to change their epilogue cards from minor characters to the main team, we got the very bad decision to marry Shiro off to a random character.

(And the character was random. Stills were leaked that showed Shiro kissing a character that had been seen once in the very first episode, but was too obviously a reference to a character in another series. It clearly didn’t matter to JDS/LM or the people above them who Shiro married as long as it wasn’t another main character. Because we’ve barely passed the point where we can have more than one character of a certain race in the main cast, much less multiple LGBT characters.)

Like they did with Adam, klantis jumped all over “Curtis” as their savior, because to them this should have killed Sheith fandom. And a great many Sheith fans did leave, angry and hurt, not because their ship wasn’t canon (very few Sheith fans expected more than an open ending) but because the concept of Shiro marrying some random character with absolutely no buildup undercut the notion of Shiro as a strong example of LGBT rep. Because those endcards erased every single character’s growth through the series, not just Shiro’s.

Media saw the ploy for what it was, a clumsy attempt to try and reach for a historic milestone when today’s audiences aren’t looking for milestones anymore. Today’s audiences want to be included in the entire narrative. No one talks about Shiro’s wedding as a good example of rep. In mainstream pop media, no one talks about Shiro at all, in contrast to the celebrations post-SDCC. When articles are written about progress in children’s media, Shiro is never included on the list. It’s only this past June, 2020, that DreamWorks shoved Shiro into the background of a collage of LGBT characters from their cartoons, WITHOUT his desultory groom.

LGBT fans, especially gay men, saw the ploy for what it was. Just as the media collectively set Shiro’s wedding aside when talking about positive LGBT rep, gay men spoke out against it. Too bad they didn’t get any kind of apology from DW and the best JDS/LM could say on their one appearance on an “Afterbuzz” was “But we tried! Something was better than nothing!”

And the majority of Sheith fans who remained in the fandom collectively jettisoned Season 8 and began producing even more content. There have been schisms and fallouts, mainly over whether/how carefully to tag for content that includes Adam or “Curtis”, but the fandom as a whole has continued to produce fic, art, vids, and merch. There’s a reason people outside the fandom groan “Sheith in 2020?” There’s a reason antis continue to push their lies about the ship. We haven’t let go of what we love, we continue to create, and we continue to attract new fans.

But most of us do not want to engage in any way with “Curtis” content unless a fix-it is involved (and sometimes not even then – for many of us, Season 8 does not exist). We don’t care about a character who had zero interaction with Shiro before the endcard, whose name isn’t even spoken once in the show’s dialogue – the only reasons we know it are the IMDB credits and one reference in the close-captions identifying who is speaking (and there’s stronger evidence to show that “Curtis” is a last name, not a first name).

If other people find enough of an attachment to this character to ship him, fine. You do you. But most Sheith fans expect those who support Shiro’s wedding to be klantis and therefore look to avoid conflict by minimizing contact. We do not forget. We do not forgive. We just want to be left alone to enjoy our ship in peace.

#voltron #sheith #ship discourse #a little context #why we don't want to interact with fans of Shiro's so-called wedding #because someone wanted to start up a fic/art exchange between Sheith fans and fans of that #and was bewildered that they got negative reactions to the idea #part of being a proshipper or ship-positive is staying in one's lane

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incorrect-kidge-quotes · 4 years

Text

Day 11 | Love potion

Day 11 | Love Potion/Cauldron

A/N: heads-up, slightly longer than my last few. Also, even though I don’t personally believe this to be one of my best written stories, I still really had fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it!

How did we get in this situation? Was all that was running through Pidges head as she and Keith were pressed against each other in a maintenance closet on the castle. The two had to been so close to kissing each other before Lance and Allura almost walked in on them in the hallway.

“Well, that’s kind of a mood killer. Huh?” Keith joked.

“Heh, yeah” Pidge laughed nervously “Sorry. I don’t know why I pushed us in here. It’s not like they don’t already know.”

“Hey did you hear that?”

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Rewinding a couple of days, three of the five paladins walked down the halls “So you think this is going to work, Allura?” Lance asked, following after her with Hunk in tow.

“Pidge is highly intelligent, and Keith is clever in his own right. But both of them are completely oblivious, both when it comes to each other, and…” she cut herself off, giving a mischievous smile “Altean culture. Just a little misinformation here, a white lie there, and those two shall become even more inseparable.”

“Allow me to be the one to err on the side of caution” Hunk began as he sped up to get in front of the two “feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it a little messed up to make them believe they are ingesting a fake love potion from an ancient Altean myth?”

Allura and Lance looked back and forth between each other and Hunk.

“Of course not!” Allura answered “I look at Pidge as the little sister I never got to have, I just want to give her a little nudge.” She smiled as she went back on her way. “It is not like it’s an actual potion to force them to love each other, just a placebo to make them admit it to one another.”

Hunk shook his head furiously “I only see bad things come from this.”

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On the other end of the castle, the two paladins in question were busy sparring with each other, with Shiro watching from above coaching over them, keeping them distracted while the others finished up the plan.

“Alright Pidge” Shiro spoke through the intercom to her helmet “shoot your bayard toward Keith, he’ll want to dodge, and what you’ll want to do is sweep his leg.”

Pidge grinned, doing as she was told and launching her weapon at Keith’s helmet, and just as Shiro predicted Keith dodged leaving himself wide open for the sweep.

“Ah, crap!” Keith shouted as he hit the ground with a loud thud.

“You good?” Pidge asked stretching her arm out to help him up.

“Yeah, nice read for that sweep.” Keith smiled, taking her hand.

She just replied with a nod, taking her helmet off to wipe the sweat from her face.

“Oh good, you guys are finished!” Hunk cheered as he walked into the training room “I just made some recovery drinks, with these cool ingredients from the castles garden.”

“The castle has a garden?” the two asked.

“Oh, yes” Allura answered for Hunk as he gave the drinks to the other two “we have some of the most diverse ingredients in the universe, all with many different effects and boons.”

After a moment of the two chugging their drinks and catching their breaths Pidge spoke up “I gotta say Hunk, whatever you made these from is really good!”

Allura grew a mischievous smile once again, now was the time to enact their plan. “Out of curiosity Hunk, what ingredients did you use?”

“Um, something that looked like kale, a white flower that resembled a honey-suckle, and a few green berries.” The big man explained, counting off each ingredient on his fingers.

The princess immediately had a shocked expression on her face.

“Allura? You okay?” Pidge asked.

“Hunk, did you say green berries?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, why?

Allura started shaking her head vehemently “Oh no, no, no.”

“Why what’s wrong?!” Shiro asked.

“That green berry is an Altean wedding fruit! It’s there to celebrate the love two people have for each other!”

Lance stepped up, wrapping his arm around Alluras shoulder. “So what? It’s just a symbolic thing, right?”

“For the most part. But if taken in strong amounts, and if the two do feel something for the other, it will lower inhibitions.”

Hunks eyes went wide “Oh…”

“Shit.” Keith and Pidge finished.

After going to get checked out by Coran, and him subsequently telling them the berries should leave their system in a couple of days to a week depending on the amount, the two couldn’t spend two seconds together for the rest of the day. They purposefully went out of their way to not be in the same room as the other, growing an insane blush and sweating crazily the second they were around each other.

Then they got stuck on an elevator together.

Pidge couldn’t help it. She was in a very uncomfortable spot. There could be worse ways to tell a cute guy I like him, right?!

Meanwhile, Keith was dying on the inside. He was never really able to handle emotions very well, whenever he told Shiro he thought he may have feelings for Pidge, it mostly came out in a mish-mash of sounds instead of words. Now, it took every lesson of self-control Shiro had taught him to not act on the idea of confessing as much stuff as he could to Pidge.

“I’m sorry, if this- uh, makes you uncomfortable…” he awkwardly apologized.

“No- it’s not your fault.” She laughed nervously.

Then Keith had a thought, something to make her feel a little more comfortable and away for him to know if his confusing feelings were validated. “But I- uh, I guess we don’t really have anything to worry about. Because you’d have to have feelings for me, huh?”

Pidge shifted in place, hanging her head down. She felt like her face would catch on fire with the heat from the blush she felt in her cheeks. “Hrm.” She sounded off awkwardly.

Then Keith caught a glimpse of her face, he couldn’t believe it, was she really blushing? Well of course she was, but the real question was if she was blushing cause of the berries or cause she had feelings for him.

“Gah, this really isn’t how I expected to do things… but I’m kind of out of options. Keith, I do have something to worry about, because I do have feelings for you. Okay? Have for a while now. But I was content to just leave it be because I know you don’t have feelings for me.” She stopped, letting herself trail off “That’s why you said we wouldn’t have anything to worry about, right?”

Keith was stupefied, he really couldn’t believe what he just heard from her. “No, that’s not it at all. You basically said everything that was running though my mind. It’s just, I don’t really know how to do… this!” he finished gesturing all around him “Emotions aren’t really my strong suit. That’s why I guess part of me was kind of happy that this happened. I can’t say, stuff- and it sound the way I want. You know?”

“So, you do have feelings for me? I’m not crazy?” She laughed.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, you’re definitely crazy, you ever see what you do to your enemies? But seriously, I do like you Pidge.”

Pidge let out a sigh of relief. “Awesome. Also, is it just me or is this the longest elevator ride in history?”

“Did you ever hit the button?”

“… I thought you did.”

Oh my god, we could have just avoided all of that! They thought to themselves.

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Over the next few days, the two found themselves in slightly more and more intense situations until eventually they were about to kiss when they heard someone approaching.

“Well, that’s kind of a mood killer. Huh.”

“Heh, yeah” Pidge laughed nervously “Sorry. I don’t know why I pushed us in here. It’s not like they don’t already know.”

“Did you hear that?”

The two leaned their ears against the door, listening to the conversation between Lance and Allura.

“So, when do you think we should tell them there was no love potion, and they admitted everything on their own free will?”

“Never. You haven’t known Pidge or Keith as long as we have, if they find out what we did, they will kill us or worse. As far as they know, the ‘potion’ will leave their system in another day or so, and everything will go back to normal. Save for the fact, they both now know the truth.”

I’m going to kill him. Was the only thought shared as the maintenance closet door swung open.

#kidgetober #kidgetober 2020 #keith #pidge #kidge #keith x pidge #pidge x keith #peith #keidge #team forestfire #emobot #otp #vld

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delaneytveit · 4 years

Text

Satellites Part 16

Insomnia at its finest! wow, 3 chapters in one day, amazing! This has now turned into the How I Wish the Writers Handled Lance’s trauma. because lets be honest, we did not get that in the show, and I will mourn it until my dying breath!

So what else will we learn about Project Leo and Lance’s time as a captive? Let’s find out!

As always, here are my twitter handles if any of you want to follow me or yell at me or anything.

Twitter - sfw -> @/spacemom_laney | nsfw -> @15_agentwash

and maybe buy me a coffee??

ko-fi - ko-fi.com/delaneym_15

oh, and before I forget! TW: blood, gore, death?, corpses

(part 15) (Masterpost) (part 17)

The mission had been approved an hour before they were to embark. As simple as it seemed on paper, there was nothing simple about it. They were to go to the exact facility that Lance had been held in.

Lance was to return to the place that had taken everything from him. The place that had broken him and made him into their own perfect image. It made him sick to even think about it. They thought they were helping him, making him stronger, better, faster. They thought that what they were doing was just and that their findings could be used by the very empire trying to colonize the entirety of the universe.

Lance had never believed anyone could be evil, not the pure kind in which they held absolutely no shred of humanity. He had never believed that anyone could be so deprived of morality. They had changed that.

His time in the lab, and in the prison before it, had changed that. He had been exposed to people who treated him as nothing more than an experiment, people who found enjoyment in his pain and torture. He had found people who would so easily deliver pain to anyone they deemed as below them, take power away from the already powerless.

He was going back.

But this time it was different.

This time it was on his own terms.

The argument over whether or not Lance should accompany the rest of the team on the mission was surprisingly brief. Allura had been very adamant about ensuring Lance’s dependability, regardless of his mental state. And frankly no one could really argue against her due to the fact that Lance was the only one who knew the layout of the facility.

He had been the only one able to escape after all.

The flight to the ship was brief. Allura had wormhole the castle to a neighboring gas planet that it was able to hide behind. Due to the Green Lion’s ability to remain undetected, the paladins each boarded it, and Pidge was the only one to pilot to the facility. In just under 20 dobashes, the Green Lion had made its way onto the ship.

Keith was the first out of the Green Lion, activating his bayard and plunging it into the steel outer wall of the ship. In a few ticks he had successfully cut a circular hole wide enough for the team to slip through individually.

Up until now, no one had really noticed the lack of security of the facility. No one except for Lance.

The last time he had been here, it had been hell to get out. Patrol ships were everywhere and the large ion cannon would have shot anything down within half a tick. It was weird how quiet the facility and the area around it was, and he most certainly didn’t like it.

“Keep your eyes open,” Lance called over the comms just as his feet touched the floor of a familiar hallway. “Something’s not right.”

“Lance is right.” Shiro announced, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

Once everyone had successfully boarded, Lance wasted no time in leading them down the ever winding hallways. He was honestly surprised he was able to remember the path. He had only walked it once, and it was more of a wild sprint than a walk, but the path came with ease.

He knew something wasn’t right from the very beginning. In no way should a team of five paladins be able to simply walk into a heavily guarded lab facility. They should have encountered at least a dozen sentries since they even stepped foot on the ship, and yet, nothing.

He didn’t like being back, the memories were much too overwhelming, but he needed to do this. He needed to put on a brave face for the team. He needed to get them to the people that needed them the most.

He could break down later. Until he turned down one specific hallway.

“Where are you taking me? Who are you?”

“Subject 7234, you are in distress. Please I need you to-”

“Stop calling me that! That’s not my name!”

“Subject 7234, I really must encourage you to calm down, you’ve already ripped your stitches.”

Lance looked down. He hadn’t even felt it. He should have felt it, the pain of it, filling his abdomen. It was only the thick dark blood that told him she was right.

“What are you doing to me?” he yelled, he couldn’t move his arms to wipe the tears from his eyes. He was tied to a bed again, at the mercy of Clipboard and her assistants. The squeak of the wheels was loud as they wheeled him down the hallway.

The vision evaporated almost immediately as Keith grasped Lance’s hand.

“Hey, you okay?” The red paladin scanned his face, searching for anything that could possibly give him an answer.

Lance took a second to breathe before he steeled himself. “I’m fine.” He turned and made his way to continue down the long hallway.

Not now.

It was much too quiet. It made him uneasy, and it was clear that the team was equally as confused and were likely thinking the same thing.

Where is everyone?

After a few more long hallways, a few more twists and turns, the armed paladins finally made it to the infamous lab itself.

Like the room he had been held in, the walls of the lab were made entirely out of glass, thick and at the time virtually unbreakable. And yet, shards were everywhere. The entire wall had been smashed and glass had spilt over the otherwise empty hallway.

Hunk cleared his throat, “What...happened?”

Lance had been thinking that exact same thing.

Shaking his head, Lance responded. “I-I don’t know.”

“...Mmmaybe we should head back?” Keith had placed his hand on Lance’s arm, apparently trying in some way to comfort the obviously affected paladin.

“No, we keep going.”

“Lance-”

“We owe it to them, Keith! We have to search for survivors.”

“Lance, do you really think that there is anyone still alive on this ship?” Pidge questioned. She was beyond skeptical. The destruction she could see of the room before her only fueled it.

There was a long silence before Lance moved out of Keith’s grip. With long legs, Lance stepped over the broken sill and into the destroyed lab.

“We have to try.”

As much as Shiro wanted to just turn back, there seemed no way to convince the Blue paladin of such. He was too focused, too determined. The only way to get him to leave prematurely would be to drag him out kicking and screaming. For the sake of Lance, and whoever would have to carry him out of the ship, he decided against the notion and instead turned to the remainder of his team.

“Alright guys, split up but keep you comms on. If you run into any trouble just say the word.” He announced. The group nodded and followed the suit of Lance, into the lab.

As much as Keith wanted to follow Lance, he knew that doing so could only do more harm than good. This was something Lance had to do on his own. So he made his way through the room, to the opposite side of where Lance was walking.

More glass littered the floor as it seemed that everything in the room had been completely destroyed. Test tubes and glassware were shattered. Debris was everywhere. Someone had done this on purpose. Someone had wanted to erase whatever work had been done here.

He couldn’t say he was sorry for it. All that they had done to Lance, in his mind they deserved it. He hated them for what they did to Lance.

The small amount of satisfaction had quickly dissipated once he walked closer to one of the aisles of lab tables. At the far end, staring back at him, was a corpse.

The body slouched against the wall, its chest ripped apart and blood was splattered everywhere.

“Holy shit.”

Shiro wasn’t doing any better. He had found three more bodies scattered throughout one of the storage rooms. Each with their chests ripped open, their mouths open in a silent scream.

Pidge and Hunk had set up working on one of the only non destroyed computers hopeful that they could somehow get some information out of it.

Lance had taken his own path, towards the back of the room. The place he called home for 5 months. The room stood no longer. The glass having been given the same fate as everything else. The only evidence that it had even stood was the foundation. The metal that kept the glass connected to the floor.

Without the frosted vision, he was able to make out 6 more foundations. Six more rooms. Six more patients. Five bodies discarded among the debris, now nothing more than nameless faces.

Six experiments.

Four successful trials.

Only one survivor.

It wasn’t until then that Lance noticed the archway behind the holding cells. It must have been obscured before. Or maybe he had just never chanced a look behind him. But it was there now, standing in front of a lightless hallway.

Slowly he made his way towards it. Crossing the threshold, Lance took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust.

The hallway was completely new territory, one he hadn’t even known existed, though he explored it all the same. The fluorescent light at the end of it flickered from where it hung haphazardly from the ceiling, giving off the only bright light in the area.

Lance took a step, then another before he heard something.

“Did you say something guys?” he asked over the comms and various negative responses answered him.

“You good, man?” Lance heard Hunk say.

“Y-yeah, just thought I heard something.”

“We should leave soon, there’s nothing here that can help us.” Keith had never been the one to call a retreat, though Lance assumed it was for his sake. Him being back in the facility put them all on edge.

Keith was right though, the only place that could have held prisoners was completely trashed. There was no one here.

They were too late.

He debated turning back when he heard it again. A high pitch sound that could obviously just be a machine, though no machines were down this way.

“Give me a sec.” he called, before muting his comms and continuing down the hall.

He was surprised to see the metal walls turn to clear glass, shattered but mostly intact. A glass door separated the rooms from the hall, one on each side of him, though both were wide open.

The sound came again, this time a bit clearer. He turned to the right room and stepped inside.

He was greeted by rows upon rows of open topped containers. Many of them tipped over but all of them empty. They almost resembled those plastic tubs his mother used to buy for organization, though the walls of them were much higher.

The ones that were still upright sat on little rolling carts, placards adorning the carts with various numbers.

7839

9846

4562

9843

There were multiples of numbers. Some having been printed on six or seven placards.

The sound came again from the far side of the room. Lance quickly transformed his bayard from its sniper configuration to a simple handgun, and made his way towards the muffled sound. For some reason it almost sounded familiar, as if he had heard it before. Though he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Up until then, the containers had been empty. Clearly though, he was wrong. They were empty, all except for one. As he got closer he understood what the sound was. And he cursed himself for not recognizing it sooner. There was no mistaking what was making it.

He walked to the singular container, the placard reading clearly.

7234

His breath caught in his throat as he approached the cart. What he had previously seen as just a lump was instead a blanket, thick and dark grey in the glowing purple of the emergency lights.

With a shaky hand, Lance reached out to the blanket and with one swift motion pulled it away revealing the one thing he never thought he’d find on this ship.

Large blue eyes stared up at him, as the owner of the cry ceased their noise almost instantly and suddenly everything became clear.

This was how they were going to make their soldiers.

With those bright, blue eyes.

#tw blood #tw gore #tw corpse #vld lance #lance serrano #lance mcclain #i love two blue bois and lance is one of them #langst

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the-shiftshop · 4 years

Text

Hey Diary - Part 2

PART 1 of the Hey Diary Series

Monday came and I can finally experience my new life at school. It’s been about 3 days since my transformation from a total nerd into this campus crush, and my last usage of that Diary App in this phone. My heart is beating fast at the thought of how people would think of me in this new body. I’m super excited yet nervous of what may happen.

You see, I may have gained this heavenly figure and this new reality, but I did not get any memories for it. I have no idea who my new friends are. Still, I need to get to school and I should at least try and keep an act until I know what the heck is supposed to happen, but before that, I need to keep my online fans updated. I took a snap of myself in the mirror and posted it on my feed, then I went straight to school.

Stepping into the gate already gave a new feeling. Everyone was looking at me and every time I look back, they would shy away. There were other people who waved at me but I have no idea who they were.

I went to my locker to grab my stuffs for our first class. As I do so, I saw Keith on the other end with his friends, Peter and Tom, glaring back at me.

He have my phone in his hand. It’s still the same bully but without his daily routine of pushing my face to my locker door. He walked pass me taunting me with my phone, then proceeded into our room.

I bit my lips in annoyance. Guess, I still have to deal with this guy.

“Heeeeeeey, Felix.”

Someone tapped my shoulder and I jumped on my place. “Ah-” I almost screamed.

“A little jumpy today, aren’t we?” The guy asked as I turned around.

I was kinda expecting it was Keith but when I looked, It was Alex, my new friend. Well actually, he’s supposed to be my friend since the first day in this school, but in this new reality. I remembered his name because he was the one who kept bugging me last Saturday night in my DMs. He has a bit stocky body, but its not that bad. He wears thick square glasses that enlarges his deep black eyes. If I could comment, I’d say he’s almost the same level as my old body but that’s only basing on his looks. As for what I saw in his timeline, he’s not really that kind of a nerd. He barely even studies and complains on his feed too much. He’s a very friendly guy in my class, actually, but that didn’t make him an easy target for Keith.

He smiled at me and was sucking in air as if he’s trying to pull some question out his chest.

“You’re bout to ask something?” I raised my eyebrows and he nodded.

“Well... Apparently there’s this thing online... It’s uh...” He kept cutting his words, hesitating to ask me something.

I guess I know what it was. I gritted my teeth and looked away.

“Lemme guess. There’s a rumor spreading about me, right?” I said.

“Well... Yeah...”

“Damn, dude. Whatever that may be, do you think I’ll do that?” I said. My body cringing when I tried to act cool and say “dude”. “Anyway. Let’s just get in class”

We started walking to our classroom door. He kept on talking to me, mostly about trying to workout to get rid of his belly. I also learned that he happened to befriend me because he thought I could give him a few advice in working out.

When we entered the room, everyone was also looking at me. Not with disgust but admiration. Everyone said hi to me except Keith and his crew who were laughing to themselves.

“Yo faggot.” Keith called me. “Did you get your morning suck today?”

He and his crew laughed louder. Where did they get that from? I never wrote that in my old phone? I furrowed my eyebrows at that thought. They’re probably just making things up without really basing on my old diary.

“Hey idiot. Do you think anyone’s gonna believe that?” A girl raised her voice at Keith.

“Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Felix himself if what I’m saying ain’t true.” Keith laughed, making everyone look more annoyed than myself.

I sat down to my chair with Alex now sitting beside me. Our first professor went in and began his lectures. As for me, I was busy tinkering with the Diary App. If the Diary App helped me last time, I bet it can help me more today.

With my eyebrows still furrowed, I began to stealthily type without the teacher noticing.

Monday

Hey Diary,

I wish whatever that thing about me that Keith and his crew tried to spread would backfire to them.

I tried to save this in hope that the changes would happen immediately, but a pop up appeared.

ALERT: Input too short

I tried to type again but this time, I tried to lengthen my sentence. Still, the alert kept appearing.

I heard our professor clear his throat and my attention jumped to him. He caught me using my phone. I smiled and chuckled.

“Phone.” He said, pointing to me.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Mr. Dew. I-”

“Put it back to your bag, now.” He ordered and I quickly followed.

I was lucky enough that it didn’t get confiscated. I put my attention back to his lectures and jotted down notes.

Why wont my log work though? What does it mean by “Input too short”? Whatever it is, I might need to fix that when I have free time. I shouldn’t go back to that in class or I might lost my new phone too.

Lunch break. I was with Alex in the cafeteria. Some other girls wanted to sit with me but Alex kept on telling them that he seats are taken. He would eventually chuckled at me and ask if I never get tired of people following me anywhere I go. I would just laugh back, remembering that this is my first day in this new life. As I tried to take a bite on my food, I saw Keith his friends across the cafeteria. He was still looking at me. Glaring at me. I then looked away, showing a bit of annoyance again. I then pulled my phone out my pocket and came back to my Diary App.

Input too short, huh? Well let’s put all our hearts in this log.

Monday

Hey Diary,

Keith and his friends are spreading fake news about me again, although I have no idea on what that is about. They might’ve been spreading news about me being gay or a cocksucker. Whatever that may be I don’t think I can’t stand them this time. I’d be fine if they spread something real about me, something I’d be too guilty to fight back, but if they spread something I never did, I might not get a grip of myself.

I wish whatever they told everyone would backfire to them. I wish Keith and his friends would live the rumor they had spread.

I clicked saved and went back to my food, but as soon as I try to bite, my vision started to blur once more. Alex seemed to notice what’s wrong and tried to shake my shoulders while calling my name in panic. I tried to shake my head and blink fast but it made me lost my sight much faster. Soon, I blacked out once more.

I groggily opened my eyes and rose up where I was lying. Then I realized I was back in my bedroom. It was night time and my lights were dim. I looked to my right and saw dad sitting on my chair.

“Dad?” I called.

“Oh you’re awake! This friend of yours called me to school telling me you passed out. The nurse said you probably ate something bad and passed out. You were puking hard in the clinic this afternoon and I was super worried. I thought I’m gonna lose you too...”

“Dad. I’m okay. Don’t worry.” I tried to comfort him.

“I’m glad you are...” He came to me and gave me a hug.

“Is Alex still here?” I asked.

“Alex? Oh, well... It wasn’t Alex who helped you. He probably coward out when you fainted and-”

“Wait? Then who-”

Before I ended my question, someone entered the room.

“Keith?” I looked at him with confusion. He was carrying a glass of milk and some cookies which were probably from my dad.

He looked at me back with this dumb grin on his face and put his glass on my table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just gonna leave you two be. Enjoy that cookie, Keith.” Dad went out my room, leaving me and Keith alone together.

My eyes widened at the sight of Keith. Out of all people, Keith was the one to help me? I puffed out air in disagreement. I just looked away from him as he munch on his cookie. He then pulled a chair and dragged it near my bed. He first finished his food before he talked to me.

“Dude. I just can’t leave you dying there. I saw everyone just standing around you. Admiring you instead of actually helping you.”

“Like I should believe you. Alex could’ve tried to help me.”

“Alex? Dude was so paranoid he can’t even dial your dad.”

We were silent for a while as I try to ignore him. I grabbed a schoolbook from my nightstand and pretended to read, wishing him to go away.

“Felix. I know I did a LOT of bad things that not only affected your physically, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help you when you need it.” I noticed that his tone was a lot different than how he used to talk to me. “And... I just wanna say I’m sorry.”

I closed my book hard at those words. He’s actually apologizing...? He grabbed my arm and shook it slowly.

“Could you take my apology?” I pleaded.

“What do you want? Is this some sort of a prank? What? Are you trying to film me and use this for blackmail? Where’s your camera?”

“Felix can you just listen to me? Do you think I’ll go this far just to bully you?”

“Yeah? Why not? Just tell me what you want and let me go for fuck’s sake.”

“Let me suck your dick.”

My eyes widened. Bigger than what I did when I saw Keith enter my room. Did he just ask me to let him suck me off? I whipped my arm to make him let go. I looked at him with my face clenching. What he said just made me mad.

“Fuck off Keith. I’m not gonna be a part of your show. Get rid of your camera and get out.”

He shook his head and laughed. His laugh isn’t those typical sinister sounding one that you’ll hear when villains get exposed for their crimes. It was more of a sad chuckle when someone gets rejected. He reached for something in his jacket’s right pocket. From there he pulled out my old phone and gave it to me.

“If there was a hidden camera here, what would I use it for? To stain my reputation too? I’m sucking you off then what? Tell everyone that: Hey guys! Felix let me suck his dick! Dude... I'm the one desperate here.” He tried to convince me. His eyes looked different from before. There were stars in his them. There’s seriously something wrong. “Do you still think I’ll go this far just to ruin you more? I’m sorry if I spread false rumor about you. I’m really sorry... Now if you still can’t accept my apology, I guess this would make you feel much... much... much better.”

Before I knew it, he was already grabbing my crotch as he tried to unzip my jeans with his other hand. I moaned and my cock is already hard. He unbuttoned my jeans and proceeded to caress my pole. His eyes are locked with mine. He was so close and I can feel his hot breath on my cheeks. He’s too near and it looks like he’s about to kiss me. He pulled the garter of my boxer and without any second thoughts, he pulled my rock hard cock out and started jerking it off. I realized that I wasn’t stopping him at all. I then moved my hands to his arm, trying to get it off.

“Keith... Stop.” I moaned when he squeezed it hard. My back tried to arch forward but he pushed me back by diving his lips onto mine. He removed his jacket off, probably because he was in heat.

Keith moved on top of me. My legs in between his. His right hand was still stroking my shaft while his left hand is under my shirt, moving it from my abs up to my chest. When he reached my chest, he pinched my right nipple which made me open my mouth. He took the chance to push his tongue in my mouth, trying to intertwine with mine.

My hands are still trying to stop him, but this time I placed them on his chest. I tried to push him away but he’s too strong. That’s when I noticed how muscular his body was. By some chance, my body was moving on its own. My left hand slowly moved down to his abs, feeling his cobblestone collection. My body start to relax as he continued to kiss me. There’s something therapeutic about what Keith’s doing to me. I can’t stop him anymore. My body already gave in as if it wants Keith without my own accord. Before I knew it, I was already kissing back with my tongue, although a second after that, he broke our kiss and proceeded to stripping my shirt off. He started worshiping my body. Giving each muscle a peck from my neck, to my arms, to my chest, to my abs, then finally to my crotch. Without any hesitation, Keith placed my cock on his mouth and started sucking me off. My hips responded by thrusting into his mouth. My hands on his shoulder. My breath became heavy. My arousal skyrocketed. Every time my cock grinds on the wall of his mouth was euphoric. This made me realize that my body is very sensitive. Every time he pulled and dove back down made my body twitch in every direction.

“Faster.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. My body is enjoying Keith so much. I can feel my balls starting to churn.

“I’m near.” I whispered. My hands migrated to his hair, pulling it as my body tensed.

“I’m gonna cum.” I said.

I released my load into Keith’s mouth. I came with what seems like a much bigger load than what I can originally do. He then swallowed them all and took a a big exhale as if he just took a soda. He smiled at me and placed my softening cock back in my pants. He zipped my jeans back up and buttoned it. He left me topless, recovering from my euphoric phase.

He gave me one last kiss and I kissed back. He chuckled and moved back.

“Guess you forgive me now?”

He then got off me and picked his jacket from the floor. He walked back to the door and grabbed his glass of milk.

“Thanks for the milk. See you tomorrow.” He opened my door. “Oh and... Can we still go back to me being your bully? But I guess this time... We can call ourselves frenemies.”

With that, he went out my room. He didn’t grab anything else. That means he meant that... He meant that!?

My new phone suddenly pinged. I grabbed it and saw the notification from the Diary App once more.

Wish was completed. Please take a picture and attach to the log to confirm change and to keep the new reality.

I didn’t know what to do aside from standing up, going out my balcony and aiming my camera to Keith who was already walking away from home, but I wasn’t able to take a picture of him since he was already too far to be seen.

Maybe tomorrow, unless this all reset when I sleep. This might be a problem.

#straight to gay #Hey Diary

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thisbluespirit · 4 years

Text

James Maxwell TV/Film List

More of a guide than a recs list, because old tv/film depends so much on availability. It’s also hard as there’s nothing surviving that’s really like SotT for him (his voice is always slightly different, too & rarely the grand one from SotT) - I found it hard to find where to start back in the day, so I hope this makes it easier. However, I have starred my favourites (rated for JM content only).

I’ve divided things into categories and @jurijurijurious (or anyone) can make up their own mind as to what to go for. (Also @jurijurijurious I have NO idea what old telly you’ve already seen, so forgive me if I’m telling you things you already know.)

Where to find it: Luckily in the UK, it’s not too bad! Network Distributing are the DVD supplier to keep an eye on (they do great online sales), you can find secondhand things cheap on Amazon Marketplace & eBay, and several Freeview channels show old TV & film, especially Talking Pictures. I’ll note if things are on YT or Daily Motion, but they come and go all the time, so it’s always worth searching.

***

Film serials (ITC mainly)

British TV made on film in the US mode with transatlantic cash, so generally pretty light, episodic (continuity is almost unheard of) etc. Some turn up on ITV3 & 4 on a regular basis (colour eps).

*** Dangerman “A Date With Doris” (ITC 1964) James Maxwell is a British spy friend of Drake’s (Patrick MacGoohan) called Peter who gets framed for murder. Drake goes to Fake Cuba to rescue him by which time JM is dying from an infected wound and faints off every available surface, including the roof. It’s great. On YT. (The boxset is v pricey if you just want 2 eps.)

“Fair Exchange” (ITC 1964) JM is a German spy friend of Drake’s called Pieter who helps him out on a case. Not as gloriously hurt/comfort-y as the other, but it does have some excellent undercover dusting. (Why Patrick MacGoohan has JM clones all called variations on Peter dotted around the globeis a mystery.) On YT.

The Saint “The Inescapable Word” (ITC 1965) This is pretty terrible, but entertaining and James Maxwell plays the world’s most hopeless former-cop-turned-security guard. With bonus collapsing. On YT.

“The Art Collectors” (1967). JM is the villain of the week. It does include a v funny bit, though, where the Saint (Roger Moore) goes for JM’s fake hair (and who can blame him? How often I have felt the same!) This one’s in colour so should pop up on ITV3 or 4.

The Champions “The Silent Enemy” (ITC 1968). Surprisingly good JM content as the villain of the week who drugs sailors and steals their clothes before realising that maybe he should have worked out if he could operate a sub before he stole it.

The Protectors “The Bridge” (ITC 1974, 30 mins.) Not worth seeking out on its own, but ITV4 seems fond of it and James Maxwell gets to do some angsting and wears purple, so it’s worth snagging if you can, but too slight otherwise.

*** Thriller “Good Salary, Prospects, Free Coffin” (ITC 1975; 1hr 10mins, I think). James Maxwell moves in with Julian Glover and runs an overcomplicated murdery spy ring where they bicker a lot in between killing girls by advertisement and burying them in the back garden. What could possibly go wrong?? Anyway, it’s solid gold cheese, has bonus Julian Glover and a lot of natty knitwear. What more does an old telly fan want? (tw: Keith Barron being inexplicably the very meanest Thriller boyfriend.) On YT but tends to get taken down fast.

***

Films

Design for Loving (1962; comedy). Can be rented from the BFI online for £3.50. Isn’t that great or that bad (or that funny either), but does have JM as a dim layabout beatnik, which is atypical.

***The Traitors (1962). This is a low-key little 1hr long spy B-movie, but it’s also thoughtful and ambiguous with a nice 60s soundtrack and location work (it’s a bit New Wave-ish) and the central duo of JM and Patrick Allen are sweet and it all winds up with James Maxwell going in the swimming pool. One of the things where JM is actually American. (Talking Pictures show this occasionally & it is out on DVD as an extra on The Wind of Change.) The quality of the surviving film is not great, though.

***Girl on Approval (1962). A Rachel Roberts kitchen sink drama about a couple fostering a difficult teenager. It’s dated, but it’s also really interesting for a 1950s/60s slice of life (and very female-centric) & probably the only time on this list JM played an ordinary person.

***Otley (1969). Comedy that’s generally dated surprisingly well & is good fun, starring Tom Courtenay +cameos from what seems like the whole of British TV. JM is an incompetent red herring & there are more cardies and glasses as well as a random barometer.

Old Vic/Royal Exchange group productions

(Surviving works made by the group that JM was involved in from drama school to his death, made by Michael Elliott or Casper Wrede. I like them a lot mostly, but they are all slow and weird and earnest & not everybody’s cup of tea.)

Brand (BBC 1959). The BBC recording of the 59 Company’s (the name they were then using) landmark production, starring Patrick MacGoohan. This was a big deal in British theatre & launched the careers of everybody involved. It’s very relentless and weird but interesting & I’m glad they decided it was important enough to save. First fake beard alert of this post. It won’t be the last. On YT & there is a DVD, which is sometimes affordable and sometimes £500, depending on the time of day.

***Private Potter (1962). The original TV play is lost and this film has an extraneous storyline, but otherwise has most of the TV cast & gives a pretty good idea of why as a claustrophobic talky TV piece it made such an impact. Tom Courtenay is Private Potter, a soldier who claims to have had a vision of God during a mission & James Maxwell his CO who needs to decide what to do about this strange excuse for disobeying orders. Tw: fake eyebrows (!) and moustaches. Only available on YT.

[???]One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch (1970). Again, no DVD release (no idea why), but it is on YT. I haven’t seen this yet, but it’s another Casper Wrede effort starring Tom Courtenay and apparently JM is especially good in it. (I’m just not good at watching long things on YT and keep hoping for a DVD or TV showing.)

Ransom (1974). A more commercial effort starring Sean Connery & Ian McShane; it gets slated as not being a good action movie, but is clearly meant to be more thinky and political with the edge of a thriller. JM’s part isn’t large but Casper Wrede shoots his friend beautifully, & it’s a pretty decent film with nice cinematography, shot in Norway, as was One Day. I liked it.

[I think this post might be the longest in the world, whoops. Sorry!]

Cardboard TV (the best bit, obv)

One-off plays etc./mini-series

Out of the Unknown “The Dead Planet” Adaptation of an Asimov short story; this is very good for JM, but hard to get hold of unless you want the boxset. I think someone has some of the eps on Daily Motion. (His other OotU ep is sadly burninated.)

The Portrait of a Lady (BBC 1968). Adaptation of the novel; JM is Gilbert Osmond, so it is great for JM in quantity and his performance, but depends how you feel about him being skeevy in truly appalling facial hair. Do the bow ties and hand-holding make up for it? but he’s in 5 whole episodes, and Suzanne Neve, faced with Richard Chamberlain, Edward Fox, and Ed Bishop as suitors, chooses instead to marry the worst possible James Maxwell. Relatable. XD

***Dracula (ITV 1968, part of Mystery & Imagination). JM is Dr Seward, fainty snowflake of vampire hunters, who falls over, sobs and can’t cope for most of the 1 hr 20 mins. More facial hair, but not as offensive as last time. Suzanne Neve is back again, although now JM is nice, she’s married Corin Redgrave, who’s more into Denholm Elliott. Anyway, I love this so much because it turned out that I love Dracula as well as shaky old TV with people I like in getting to fight vampires and all be shippy. Good news - TP keep showing M&I, the DVD is out, and there are two versions of it up on YT.

The Prison (Armchair Cinema 1974). This is the one with Lincoln in it, but it’s not that great & JM isn’t in it that much, so depends how curious you are for the modern AU! (But my Euston films allergy is worse than my ITC allergy, and I watched this when very unwell, so I may have been unfair.)

Crown Court “Fitton vs. Pusey” (1973) - part of the Crown Court series, set in a town full of clones who all keep returning to court. JM is on trial for his behaviour in (the Korean war? I forget?) although he ought to be on trial for his terrible moustache. It’s not that great, but it is nice JM content. He probably did it, but for reasons, and he wibbles & panics whenever his wife leaves the courtroom. Also on YT.

*** Raffles “The Amateur Cracksman” (ITV 1975) - He is Inspector Mckenzie in the Raffles pilot & is a lot of fun. At one point when there was a Raffles fandom someone in it claimed he was too gay for Raffles, which I’m still laughing about, because Raffles. Anyway, watch out if you try to get the DVD because it is NOT included in S1, whatever lies Amazon tells. It is up somewhere online, though, I think.

Bognor “Unbecoming Habits” (1981). Some down marks for possibly the worst 80s theme & incidiental music ever, but fun & has been shown on Talking Pictures lately. JM is an Abbot running a honey-making friary that is actually a hotbed of spies, murder, gay sex and squash playing. This is the point at which he chooses to strip off on screen for the first time, because strong squash-playing abbots do that kind of thing apparently.

Guest of the week in ongoing series/serials

Since even series with a lot of continuity tended to write episodes as self-contained plays (like SotT), these are usually accessible on their own.

Manhunt “Death Wish” (1970). This is one of the most serialised shows here, but this episode is still fairly contained. WWII drama about three Resistance agents on the run across France. JM is... a Nazi agent & former academic trying to break an old friend (one of the series’ three leads, Peter Barkworth) with kindness, possibly?? (Manhunt is very angry and psychological & dark and obv. comes with major WWII warnings (& more if you want to try the whole thing), but it’s also v good.) Up on YT, I think.

Doomwatch “The Iron Doctor” (BBC S2 1971). “Doomwatch” is the nickname of a gov’t dept led by Dr Spencer Quist that investigates new scientific projects for abuse/corruption/things that might cause fish to make men infertile etc. etc. JM is a surgeon who comes to their attention because he’s a bit too in love with his computer for the comfort of one of his more junior colleagues. (I think it’s perfectly comprehensible & a nice guest turn, but it is hard to get hold of outside of the series DVD. Which, being a cult TV person, I loved a lot anyway, but YMMV!)

***Hadleigh “The Caper” (S3 1973). Hadleigh is a very middle of the road show, but watchable enough (lead is Gerald Harper, who’s always entertaining) and this is pretty self-contained as it centres around an old con-man friend (JM) of Hadleigh’s manservant causing trouble by pretending to be Gerald Harper, for reasons. JM seems to be having a ball.

Justice 2 episodes, S3 1974. He guests twice as an opposing barrister & gets to be part of some nice showdown court scenes. Again, a middle of the road drama, but stars Margaret Lockwood, who was still just as awesome in the 1970s as she was in the 1930s & 40s. On YT.

Father Brown “The Curse of the Golden Cross” (1974). JM is an American archaeologist getting death threats; stars Kenneth More as Father Brown. Just a note, though, that 1970s TV adaptations tended to be really really faithful and this is one of the stories where Chesterton comes out with an anti-semitic moment... (JM was unconscious for that bit and, frankly, I envied him.) But otherwise lots of angsting in yet another fake moustache about someone trying to kill him.

The Hanged Man “The Bridge Maker” (1975). Confession time, I have v little idea what this one was about apart from Ray Smith being an unlikely Eastern European dictator, as this whole series went over my head and was not really my thing. (Ask @mariocki they’re cleverer than me and liked it & can probably explain the plot!) I don’t know if it’s available anywhere off the DVD but on a JM scale it was v good/different as he was a coldly villainous head of security & it wouldn’t be too bad to watch alone, but there was an overarching plot going on somewhere.

Doctor Who “Underworld” (1978). This is famously one of the worst serials in the whole of classic Who, but largely because of behind-the-scenes circumstances, not the guest cast. There is some nice stuff, though, esp in Ep1 (JM is a near-immortal alien who’d like to lay down and die but still the Quest is the Quest as they say... a lot) & it’s bound to pop up on YT or Daily Motion. The DVD has extras that include v v brief bits of JM speaking in his actual real accent (which he otherwise does in NONE of these) & making jokes in character. Honestly, though, this is the only DW where the behind-the-scenes doc is genuinely the most exciting bit as they desperately invented whole new technologies & methods of working to bring us this serial, and then everybody wished they hadn’t.

*** Enemy at the Door “Treason” (LWT 1978). This is a weird episode but I love it lots - from a (v v good) series about the occupation of the Channel Islands. (So obv warnings for WWII & Nazis.) JM is a visiting German Generalmajor, but he’s come for a very unusual reason - to ask for help from his brother-in-law, a blackballed British army officer (Joss Ackland). It’s all weird and low key and JM is doomed and nevertheless probably my favourite thing of his that isn’t SotT.

* The Racing Game 2 eps (1979). Adaptation of Dick Francis’s first Sid Halley novel Odds Against (ep1) + 5 original stories for the series. This is an interesting one - JM plays Sid’s father-in-law & they have a lovely relationship that’s central to the book BUT Dick Francis loved this adaptation and Mike Gwilym who played Sid and was inspired to write a sequel Whip Hand, which he tied in with TV canon - and adopted at least three of the cast, including JM. Which means that all the Sid & Charles fanfic is also JM fic by default and it’s quite impressive. (There’s not much but it’s GOOD.) On YT.

Bergerac “Treasure Hunt” (1981). Not a major role, but pretty nice & it’s one a Christmas ep of the detective show (also set on the Channel Islands) that involved Liza Goddard’s cat burglar, which was always the best bit of Bergerac.

His guest spots in Rumpole of the Bailey (1991) “Rumpole a la Carte” and Dr Finlay (1994) are both really just cameos, but both series come round on Freeview; the Rumpole one is funny and the Dr Finlay one his last screen appearance before his death the following year.

Not worth getting just for JM: Subway in the Sky; Bill Brand and Oppenheimer.

These films only have cameos but some quite fun ones and they come around on terrestrial TV: The Damned (1962), The Evil of Frankenstein (1964) & (more briefly) Far From the Madding Crowd (1967). (I think his cameo in Connecting Doors must be at least recognisable as someone spotted him in it just based off my gifs, but it’s not come my way yet.) I’ve never been able to get hold of any of his radio performances, not even the 1990s one.

ETA: I forgot The Power Game! This is the one surviving series where he occurs as a semi-regular (at least until halfway through S1 when he went off to the BBC to be in the now-burninated Hunchback of Notre Dame). This isn’t standalone, but it’s a good series and it is on YT. See how you go with crackly old TV before you brave it but it’s the snarkiest thing ever made about people making concrete and stabbing each other in the back. JM is a civil servant who tries to run the National Export Board and is plagued by Patrick Wymark and Clifford Evans as warring businessmen.

***

[... Well, now I just feel scary. 0_o In my defence, I have been stuck home bored & ill for years, and often unable to watch modern TV while trying to cheer myself up with James Maxwell, so I didn’t watch all of this at once. It just... happened eventually after SotT. /waves hand

But if anyone feels the need to unfriend my quietly at this point, I understand. /o\]

#james maxwell #masterlist #rec list #well sort of #1950s #1960s #1970s #1980s #there are some things i haven't seen #and some things i know to be extant but unreleased #everything else is burninated or status unknown

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.57

Cradling Lance against him, Keith couldn’t stop shaking. There was so much blood that a normal person would be dead. Coran had done something, then both Matt and Lance had freaked out, Matt attacking Lance who went full vampire protecting them. Curtis had collapsed on the spot, needing Shiro to support him. Rieva already running towards the tunnels exit

“Keith, we need to move. Get Lance”

Lifting his unconscious boyfriend, Keith was in shock. Matt had turned and Lance shielded him and Coran against the wolf... He couldn’t believe what had happened. Whatever Coran had done had stopped Matt, the man turning human in Coran’s hold as Coran lifted him. So caught up in the drama of what was happening and getting Lance out of the tunnels, Pidge barely registered on his radar as he strode through the dark, afraid that being cautious would cost Lance his life. This was bad. It was beyond bad. People were going to see. People were going to know... They’d fucked up. He’d fucked up. He never should have let Lance down here. He and Shiro should have accompanied Coran, not the whole group.

Between the tunnel exit and the car was a blur for the hunter. Rieva had turned, her large wolf form following Coran to Shiro’s car, scared for her mate and probably scared over whatever had made Matt turn in the first place. With Shiro able to drive, and function, Keith placed Lance in his bronco, before climbing up beside his boyfriend. The only thing he had to stop the bleeding was his shirt, stripping it off he pressed it hard against the scratches on Lance’s chest, Lance still completely unconscious. Throwing himself in the driver’s seat, his brother moved to fish Lance’s keys out his pocket

“Coran said to head straight for the house. Lance needs serious medical help. I want you to monitor him”

Shiro’s words felt distant. Like his brother was talking to him through a fog. All he could do was shake, surprised he wasn’t crying as he held Lance close to him. His heart was racing, he couldn’t calm down and this was his fault. His fault... Lance could die... permanently... because he didn’t follow his instincts... because he hadn’t followed Lance’s instincts. He should have spoken up. Why hadn’t he spoken up? Why hadn’t he told Lance “no”?

“I know you’re scared, kiddo, but he’ll be okay”

It wasn’t until halfway home that Keith remembered Pidge. Pidge was human. Pidge was human and she’d seen

“Pidge!”

“She’s following us... focus on Lance”

Lance was still bleeding. Keith didn’t know how make the wounds close faster. Tilting his boyfriend’s head back, Lance complexion was an ashen grey

“He’s dying... I don’t know what to do”

Keith’s voice trembled, holding Lance didn’t mean he was helping him

“Is his mouth clear? Can he breathe?”

Lance’s lips were bloodied, his fangs still extended. Wiping them with his hand didn’t do much of anything, Keith felt like he was only smearing his boyfriend’s blood around as he wiped his hand off on his stomach before moving his hand back to see if Lance was breathing. As they went over the ditch at Lance’s turn off, Lance’s teeth scraped across the one bit of his hand that was blood free. The action reminding him of how he’d stupidly thought he’d been turned. He never thought Lance could mean so much to him. Groaning weakly, his boyfriend scrunched his face up in pain. It was the most motion Lance had shown since collapsing

“Shiro, I think he’s waking up”

“It’s okay, we’re just about at the house. Lance, it’s Shiro. You’re going to okay. Keith, talk to him”

What was he meant to say? What would Lance say?

“I’m here. I’ve got you, babe. I’ve got you”

Lance mumbled softly, his words filled with exhaustion

“I think I got hit by a car”

Keith couldn’t even manage a smile

“Not quite a car”

“I feel like shit”

“You look like it”

“Love you too, babe”

Keith’s heart damn near stopped. Whatever strength his boyfriend had fade as he fell silent again. What kind of... who... who just said that and passed out like it was perfectly fine. Keith almost wanted to stab Lance. Was it a joke? He had to be joking? He wasn’t anything special. He was an emotionally compromised hunter who was now second guessing his every move because Lance was everything he’d never been taught or told. He’d never felt the things Lance made him feel. He’d never worried about anyone other than Shiro like this.

Shiro pulled up as close to the front steps as he could. Climbing out the car, Shiro jogged round to the passenger side, opening the door for him

“Climb out, then I’ll help you with Lance”

“I’ve got him”

“Keith...”

“I’ve got him!”

Snapping at his brother, Keith didn’t want Shiro touching Lance, even to help him. Wracked with guilt, he didn’t anyone else touching Lance. Climbing out the car, he pulled his boyfriend to the edge, before awkwardly sliding him out. It was so much easier to get Lance in than out, Keith stumbling under his weight. Had Shiro not moved to stand behind him, they probably both would have ended up on the ground.

Keith had all of two seconds to straighten himself up, before Coran was pulling up. Pidge slamming her breaks on so hard to avoid rear ending him as she jerked the wheel, that her car skidded, spraying gravel as she stopped just short of the grass. Out the car before Coran, Pidge was angry

“What the fuck happened to Lance?!”

In his arms, Lance stirred, wriggling so much that Keith had to stand him upright or risk near dropping him again. Meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, Lance bared his fangs, teeth sinking into Keith’s shoulder. Crying out in pain, Shiro pulled Lance off him, but the damage was done. As Keith felt the blood running down his shoulder, he turned to Pidge who was backing away

“Pidge, wait... I can explain...”

“No... no... stay away from me...”

When Matt climbed out the back of the car, bloodied from attacking Lance, Pidge’s eyes went wide. Matt didn’t look pretty, he could barely stand, eyes still yellowed from transforming

“Take Lance and get him in the house...”

That her brother was acting so calm drove Pidge over the edge. Letting out a cry, she rushed back to her car. Keith’s heart breaking for all of them. Pidge had always wanted to be part of this world, now she was seeing all her nightmares coming true. Matt started towards Pidge, but Pidge was already starting the car again. Moving to stand in front of her car, Pidge slammed it into reverse, kicking up gravel again, before taking off.

Finally climbing out the car, Coran sighed, maybe Matt, Rieva, or Curtis had explained during the drive

“Let’s get Lance inside. We’ll need towels and fresh blood. Number one, grab the first aid kit from Lance’s bathroom, Number two, we’ll use the kitchen table. Matt, clean up then see if you can get Miss Katie to return. Curtis, you’ll be my second set of hands. We have quite the mess on our hands”

Lance’s kitchen table was turned into a makeshift operating table. Coran had sent him to shower, Keith throwing a swing at his brother when Shiro tried to remove him from Lance’s side. Things were worse now Keith could see every wound clearly. Shaking hard enough he could barely stand, Shiro was finally able to lead him away. Operating on autopilot, his brother helped him wash. The red running down and swirling with the water in the bottom of the shower seemed never ending. He wasn’t shocked Lance had bitten him. He was, but he wasn’t, but he was. The bite stung, but he hadn’t torn the wound when he’d been pulled away. Lance had probably fainted all over again in fear of having bit him.

When his shower was done, Shiro helped him dress in borrowed clothes. From somewhere Shiro had found Kosmo, the little pup snuggling against his chest in a way that hurt. He felt like the worst boyfriend ever. He didn’t want to see Lance. Not when he was in so much pain, and felt shittier by the second for not being with him. Shiro kept trying to talk to him, but too shocked over what had happened, Keith couldn’t find words to reply. He felt so fucking sick he wanted to throw up. The only silver lining is that Pidge, Hunk, and Shay, hadn’t been there to deal with Lance and Matt freaking out... even though Pidge now knew something of the truth. God. The pain in her eyes. He got why Lance was so scared of her finding out. She’d looked... betrayed. Betrayed, broken, and shattered. All valid feelings. All feelings Lance was going to feel when he was coherent again.

Shiro led him back to the kitchen, where Keith’s stomach finally turned. Rushing to the sink, Kosmo whimpered as Keith threw up. His puppy wiggling against him, as those tears finally hit

“This is my fault”

The words came between heaves. Shiro kept his arm around Keith’s shoulders until there was nothing left to throw up

“This isn’t your fault. This isn’t. You did nothing wrong”

Shiro was trying to be soothing. Keith hated himself too much to listen. First he’d let Adam down, now he’d let Lance down

“You didn’t let Adam down. He loved you. He was proud of you. Lance loves you. He’s going to come back to you”

Keith hadn’t realised he’d vocalised his self blame. From over his shoulder, Coran’s voice came

“It’s not pretty, but he’ll recover. Shiro, why don’t you take Keith into the living room”

Now he was in the same room as Lance, he didn’t want to leave

“I’m staying”

“Keith...”

Shiro’s voice carrier a gentle plea

“I have to stay for him... I have to... I have to”

Lance would stay through all the shit if their roles were reversed

“Keith, you can see him when Coran is done”

That made it sound like Coran was fixing up Lance’s corpse for viewing

“I’m staying...”

“Okay. Let me fix your shoulder up. Come sit over here”

Shiro sat him near the doorway, chair facing the fridge. Kosmo nipped and sucked on Keith’s fingers, as Keith tried not look at Lance... tried and failed. Bloodied towels lay on the floor, Coran’s face set in concentration, stitching Lance as Curtis cleaned him up. He couldn’t take not known

“What happened down there? What happened to Lance and Matt?”

Coran hummed, Keith expected to be told to wait, instead the fae went on to reply

“Magic. Old magic bolstered by death. Designed so those not so human wouldn’t stay hidden beneath the earth. Did you see the magic?”

“Not really... but no one’s been down there for years”

“Magic is the manipulation of the quintessence all around us. It grows and changes with the times. This magic was designed to target those parts that aren’t human”

“Then why weren’t you effected?”

“I was born fae, my boy. No human side like our four friends”

Right. Four friends. He hadn’t even asked about Curtis, Matt, or Rieva

“Where are the others? I didn’t even ask you, Curtis...”

Keith looked to Curtis, bottom lip wobbling. That nub on his head now a twisted red horn of maybe 2 inches...

“I feel much better, still somewhat shaken. You did have other priorities. Lance was quite brave shielding both you and Coran. He never fails to amaze. He was quite shaken over his sister yesterday, yet today all he could think of was Coran’s visit”

“Matt and Rieva?”

Keith hissed as Shiro wiped the bite over with the antiseptic cream, his brother answering

“Rieva is patching up where Lance scratched Matt. Which reminds me, what was that you did to Matt, Coran?”

“A little quintessence manipulation. Matt never wanted to harm us. He simply couldn’t help himself. Never a dull moment around here”

Keith would take a dozen dull moments over today. A hundred dull stupid moments with his idiot boyfriend. They were supposed to come home and cuddle until Keith had to be responsible. He was going to ask Lance about his siblings, Lance would turn the conversation back to work. Keith would kind of break the rules and mention a little bit about under cover. Now this had happened and his patience was being tested waiting for Lance to wake back up.

When Lance was stitched up, Coran set up a blood bag. Some of his wounds finally starting to heal properly. With Lance laying on the table, Keith couldn’t cuddle his boyfriend, but Coran had covered Lance in a blanket and he was allowed to hold his hand. Cleaning himself up, Coran came back in, the man looking remarkably collected

“Never fear, number two. He’ll heal right up”

“Then what happens? Pidge knows something happened. She was scared”

“Ah, yes. Katie knowing does complicate things. Especially when she doesn’t know the full story. No doubt it was a nasty shock for her”

“Lance loves her like a sister. We never should have gone into those tunnels”

“I’m afraid I’m quite in agreement. I considered Garrison a rather safe place. You encountered no similar symptoms on your other trip to the tunnels, did you?”

“No. Not the first time in the coal mine”

“Excellent. I shall make a note of this. Now, young Matt hasn’t been able to contact Pidge. I have suggested for the time being we return to Platt. This does complicate things with Lotor, yet everybody is currently emotionally compromised. I suggest you come up with a cover story for what Pidge saw”

“What about the publican? What about the blood?”

“A little quintessence manipulation and he’ll soon forget”

Keith wasn’t happy. Putting distance between Lance and Pidge wouldn’t solve the issue... but he didn’t feel like picking a fight trying to protect his boyfriend and keep the existence of vampires and werewolves secret

“This feels like running away. She needs some kind of explanation, Lance is going to be heartbroken when he wakes up. Why was she even there?”

“From what I know, I assume she noticed Lance’s car. Lance had always been fond of mentioning that Pidge can be quite scary with her powers of observation”

“That’s true”

She figured out their feelings for each before they did. She probably already thought Lance had a medical condition he’d been hiding from them

“I know this is a distressing situation, but I’ve treated far worse cases than this. He’ll make a full recovery”

Keith had kind of lost his head. Lance was a vampire, werewolves cuts and bites heal faster... at least faster than a broken heart

“Is that you’re way of telling me I over reacted?”

“Perhaps a little. Though it is always harder when it’s the people we love. Might I impose on you to pack for Lance? A week’s worth of clothing should be enough. I’ll remain with him. I think he’d feel much better knowing you’re the one who packed for him. And we’ll take both Blue and Kosmo with us... and the box of death soil he keeps in his closet. We can’t leave him buried on the off chance Pidge or Hunk return. I’m afraid that’d only make the situation more complicated”

Keith didn’t know how things could possibly be more complicated than they were right now. Lance and Matt were both going to be beating themselves up for what happened, and both of them were going to be upset over Pidge. All she’d wanted to do was see her friends. Now she’d seen both Matt and Lance bloodied and bruised, and a damn werewolf climb into a car like it was normal. Keith wanted to reach out to her, but he had no idea where to even begin. This sucked.

I always kind of intended for Pidge to find out this way, but originally it was going to happen on the weekend without Coran, Curtis, and Shiro there... but then I was like I can’t do that to Hunk and Shay... I know you’re stressing, but Pidge will be back in a bit... she just needs to process

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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