fonceink - Tumblr blog

fonceink · 4 months

Text

The ship was shaking like a kid holding a goldfish bag.

It was not, in case you were wondering, a good time.

Keith grit his teeth, planting his boots on the ground and half-walking half-climbing over to Allura, who was paler than Keith had ever seen her. The grip she had on her podium was tight enough to drain the blood completely from her knuckles. Despite his own fear, Keith’s heart softened for her.

“How is it looking?” he asked, shouting over the noise of a thousand asteroids and a million laser strikes. All while their lions sat, drained of quintessence, locked in their hangars

One goddamn thing after another. Jesus.

“It is looking bad,” Allura shouted, not taking her eyes off the space in front of her. “I can’t – Coran, I can’t hold it on my own!”

Coran looked back at her grimly. He had probably the most success keeping upright – seriously, was it posture or did he have a steel rod anchored to his back at all times – but even he was struggling against the whipping and shuddering of the massive castleship, attention focused on the controls. Trying to keep the shield up as well as possible, trying to get their own defenses running. Trying, as always, to keep the castle going, even when the odds were a million to nothing.

“You can,” he encouraged. The effect was less encouraging when a massive asteroid hit the side of the bridge point-blank, throwing him right off the controls and splat into the walls. Despite Lance and Allura’s cries of alarm, he made a startlingly dignified crawl back to the deck controls.

Hell of a man, that advisor.

He continued once he was steady, sweat beading on his brow but gaze soft and assuring. He waited for Allura to meet his eyes, then nodded, once. “Focus, girl. Hands on the spheres. Mind cool on the exhale. However we need to get out of this – you can guide us. Make your decision. Your team is behind you.”

“Yeah!” Pidge cheered, lifting her fist in emphasis from where Shiro held her steady, eyes trained on her computer screen. Blaring red lines of code Keith could not pretend to read flashing rapid speed in front of her, and she typed back at it just as fast, keeping their crackling systems at bay. “You got this!”

Allura breathed out. The tense line of her shoulders softened, just slightly, despite the ongoing chaos. She lifted her hands and rested them, gently, on the podium spheres as Coran instructed. They glowed.

“We retreat,” she decided, nodding to herself. “We’re already low on quintessence, standing to fight will drain us dangerously. We must get to safety if we are to survive with our home intact.” She bit her lip, eyes opening. “But, uh, full disclosure, I have enough strength in me to open a wormhole and that is About It. I will be out of commission the moment it closes.”

Hunk shrugged. “We’ll catch you, then.”

“Try not to wormhole us into a black hole,” Shiro suggested, smiling slightly. “We’ll manage anything else, Princess.”

She laughed slightly, thankfully, but within seconds called out for everyone to brace themselves. Keith did as she heeded, or he tried to – but the castle got hit as he tried to crawl back to his seat, sprawling him on the floor. He glanced over at Allura, panicked, but her eyes were already glowing, and the space in front of them was already starting to warp. He swallowed roughly, squeezing his eyes shut. The floor was shaking too badly for him to get his bearings. He couldn’t get his feet under him, couldn’t stand, couldn’t dream to crawl to his seat. He stilled, resigning himself – he didn’t know exactly what would happen if he wasn't strapped down and protected during a wormhole jump, but it couldn’t be good. He had to hope for the best.

“God,” sighed a voice to his left, “you’d die without me, Dropout.”

A hand clenched the back of his jacket and yanked, pulling him tumbling onto another body. Quick as lightning a seatbelt was stretched over him, clicking into place just as the space in front of the castle finally warped, bright blue, and the entire bridge lit up so bright Keith was blind with it.

When the light finally died down, Keith was half-convinced nothing had changed. The castle stopped shaking, but instead it was plummeting, hard and fast, controls dead and energy gone, towards the surface of a planet.

“Someone catch Allura!” Coran shouted, and on queue the princess’ eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped forward. Luckily, Hunk had been more prepared than the rest of them, seatbelt already off and arms extended to catch her. He carried her back to her seat, buckling her in carefully, and strapping himself in next to her. Wise move – trying to crawl back to his own seat, fighting against the G-forces, would be near impossible.

There was a click, and then a shove, and then Keith got to feel those G-forces firsthand.

“What the hell!” he demanded, barely managing to catch himself on the arm of the blue paladin’s seat. “I coulda brained myself!”

Lance shrugged, playing for innocent, but a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. Keith could’ve strangled him. “What? Thought I’d let you get back to your own chair. You're welcome for saving you, by the way.”

“Some saving, jerk! We're still falling!”

“Yeah. Personally, I would find somewhere to buckle up.”

“You’re so annoying,” Keith growled, and it was by spite alone that he managed to stomp back to his own seat and buckle himself in. He was bright red, anger making him hot – Lance always made him like this, so furious he could barely blink. One day they’d be making progress, working together like a dream, wiping the floor together, and the next it was like a switch was flipped. Like Lance was reminding himself that he and Keith could never get along. It was ridiculous, and Keith couldn’t for the life of him understand it. Was he so bad?

“Incoming!” Pidge shouted, shaking Keith back to himself. Her screen was now linked up with Coran’s, the only two things on in the entire castle – electronics seemed to come alive when Pidge touched them – and diagrams of the castle systems were blaring red, flashing with symbols Keith didn’t know, but recognised as bad. “The nav and power systems are down! It’s not safe to get anyone back there to force them back on manually, but I think I can get steering up in a sec. Shiro, I need your arm for power. Hunk, keep on Allura, make sure she’s upright when we crash, we don’t want a spinal injury. Lance, Keith, I’m turning steering over to you guys. Don’t fuck it up.”

Despite their bickering, both of them nodded. Neither of them particularly wanted to be turned into paladin pancake anytime soon, so they could collaborate for one thing.

Seconds after Pidge spoke, a screen flickered to life in front of Keith. Stats blinked back up, glitching rapidly as they translated themselves into words and symbols Keith could understand. The hologram shifted and expanded to its usual 3D model, joystick in the middle, thrusters and controls to his left, a screen with Lance’s comm line to his right. In his little screen, Lance met his eyes, eyebrows raised in question. Keith nodded. Together, they wrapped their hands around the joysticks, breathed out, and let their minds fuse.

As always, it was a freaky feeling. Imagine the weird, shuddery feeling you get when you say the same thing as someone at the same time, voices layering, tone mixing, for a moment your own voice and the voice of a stranger synching into one. The weird, deja-vu-but-not of it, the uncanny valley feel of recognising your own voice but…different.

Then multiply that freakiness by a hundred, and you still won’t quite get it.

On some levels Keith was aware that he was his own person. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history – or well, some of it. Nothing about himself had changed.

But at the same time, he was also Lance Esposita-McClain. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history, more of it than he could ever get from shared stories or mind melds. There’s no telling the way your sister’s arm feels hooked around your neck for the sixth noogie in as many minutes. There’s no explaining the way your breathing only gets calm with your feet in the saltwater. There’s no describing the curve of your mother’s smile. Nothing Keith was seeking out – no memories he would even know to look for – but they were there, simmering, triggered by a smell or the crook of his finger in a particular way. Memories stored in the body and the soul and the senses, not in the brain, shared when two consciousnesses become one.

Lance’s mind was hyperspecific. It complemented Keith’s well, with all his flitting, quick detail-oriented observance. As Keith jumped from angle to angle, noticing the planet’s curve, the pull of its gravity, the heat of its atmosphere, Lance zeroed in on an island, one of the only ones big enough for them to land. While Keith kept their craft in control, steering along the air currents, Lance kept them directed, single-minded focus on a stretch of rocky beach – not exactly a soft landing, but not a lot of living things for them to destroy when they crash. (Keith would’ve chosen to land in the meadow. Crushing frogs and bugs or whatever is never something on his top priority list of things to avoid. But he didn’t argue when Lance nudged them towards what is about to be a very bumpy landing.)

“Brace yourself!” he shouted, not daring to look away to make sure his friends were buckled. Trusting that they were, he held his position, letting them plummet, coming closer and closer to splatting on the planet’s surface before finally yanking on the joystick as hard as he could. He felt Lance’s strength twist and tangle with his own, and together the two of them levelled the castle almost parallel with the ground, letting them glide on their own velocity until they slowed down enough to let the bottom of the craft brush against the rocky outcrop.

It was the most turbulent landing Keith has ever felt, except maybe that time he and Lance crashed blindfolded into a sand dune, and every bump on the ground gave him whiplash. When the castle finally hit the ground for good, dragging them a gauge in the ground for several miles as friction finally slowed it to a stop, the leftover inertia yanked Keith forward so roughly the buckles of his seatbelt made something crack in his ribcage. When the castle finally stopped he got slammed back into his chair so hard he was almost surprised he didn’t fall right through the impenetrable material.

It took a minute for everything to hit. His connection with Lance had been severed the second they hit the ground, too focused on being, y’know, crashed to keep holding on. After the shock of being tossed around like dice in a cup wore off, which did not take long, Keith’s body made it very clear that yeah, no, armour actually only does so much, and crash landing is one of those things that’s just bound to hurt. His skull pounded. At least one of his ribs was most definitely cracked. His wristed and knuckles ached from the strain of holding up the entire weight of the castle as he’d steered it. He was alive, obviously, but – Jesus. Being alive sucked.

“Sound off,” croaked Shiro from somewhere left of him.

“Ugh,” groaned Pidge. “Fuck you, Keith, I hate it when you drive.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to let us crash,” Keith responded flatly.

“Um, you did, bozo, I asked you to land us –”

“The castle was dead! What did you expect me to –”

“Allura and I are both fine,” Hunk interrupted. Amusement lined his voice. “She’s still out, but she’s breathing fine, and I didn’t let her hit anything on impact. She should still get checked out, though.”

“Roger that,” Coran agreed. “Ease your worries, Number Two, you did well. I will have her in the MedBay as soon as our systems are up and running again.”

“Oh, whew, that’s a relief, because I didn’t want to say anything but she kinda jammed her elbow into my sternum by accident and I’m not blaming her or anything since she’s unconscious but I think my spleen may be a little dead, not a huge deal I’m sure but –”

“Everyone quiet!” barked Shiro. “That’s six accounted for! Who’s missing?”

Immediately, heart pounding, Keith whipped to his right. His stomach dropped. The Blue Lion Command Chair was empty – seatbelt torn somewhere on the shoulder, cracked helmet overturned carelessly on the seat. The crisp blue and white lines were marred by a small splash of red. Panic clawed its way up Keith’s throat, and he was out of his seat before he could register unbuckling his own straps, looking frantically around the bridge.

“He’s here somewhere,” Pidge fretted, “he couldn’t’ve just disappeared –”

Coran had a gloved hand clenched in his hair. “The windows and walls should be almost impenetrable, there is no way the crash broke them enough to let someone in –”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck –”

“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”

Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you fucking sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.

Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.

— — —

part two

397 notes · View notes

fonceink · 4 months

Text

Some random unedited Klance stuff I wrote at like 2am last night

Lance finds himself standing before his mirror, eyes darting back and forth across his reflection as if scanning for something. With a sigh, he steps back and slumps down into his bed. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's perfectly normal. Unremarkable.

Nothing special.

Fitting, because that's all he is, isn't it? He's nothing special. Everyone else has something going for them. Shiro had been the leader who always figured out what to do and now he leads from the sidelines, Pidge is the tech genius who always has a comment to make. Hunk's the friendliest guy Lance has ever met and holds the team together, all the while making the best food ever. Allura and Coran know all about the lions and run the entire ship.

And Keith. Keith was the best at everything. He'd been the best cadet in the Garrison, he was hella good at fighting, thinking on the spot and being the team leader, looking pretty... And not the worst diplomat ever to exist. So basically all he needs to be a great paladin.

Lance couldn't help but envy Keith a little. Ever since his Garrison days Lance had always wanted to prove himself, to be worth something. But now here he is, deflated and sitting on his bed with no role to fill. And why would the team want him if he doesn't have a role to play?

But a much more devastating thought prickles in the back of Lance's mind. As much as he envies Keith and always made an effort to go out of his way to poke fun at him, he can't help but admire him. I mean, it's hard not to. The powerful yet graceful motions when he fights, the feeling in his voice when he gives commands to the team, his persistence when he wants sonething, and the amount he cares for his teammates.

It would take some kind of miracle to have that absolute prodigy even come remotely close to falling for a simple boy from Cuba with no redeeming qualities?

I mean, there's his immeasurable charm... But Keith could beat that one pretty easily. His mullet is nicer than Lance says it is on a regular basis. And his eyes. But no matter how much admiring Lance does, that's not gonna get him anywhere. It's not like he can say anything to Keith though.

Lance leans against the wall and lets his body deflate further. The more he thinks about Keith the more he can feel an ache growing in his chest. Collapsed against the wall, he lifts his hand to rub his eye and there's something wet on his face.

He was crying.

Right at that moment there's a knock on the door. Hurriedly, Lance wipes his eyes with his sleeve and inhales slowly and deeply before calling out, "Just come in."

The door opens to reveal none other than Keith himself. Keith's eyes widen to see Lance sprawled across his bed, leaning against the wall. "Are.. You okay over there, buddy?"

"Hey Keith, I'm... I don't know." Lance lifts his head and gives a weak smile. Keith walks over, sits down and glances at Lance with a look of concern.

"Lance, have you been crying?"

Lance blinks before turning his head away and taking another deep breath. As he exhales, Keith places a hand gently on his shoulder. "Look, I know I'm not necessarily the best one to talk to sometimes, but if you've got stuff on your mind you can always tell me."

Lance can feel the waterfalls that come rushing from his eyes as he pushes himself up and wraps his arms tightly around Keith, muffling his sob as he buries his face in Keith's shoulder. Keith is frozen for only a second before he returns the gesture. The two sit there like that in silence for a number of minutes before Lance eventually raises his head again and attempts to wipe his eyes on sleeves that are becoming more and more drenched by the second.

Noticing he left a large wet patch on Keith's shirt, he starts, "Keith, I- I'm so sorry I-"

"Hey, shh, it's okay, Lance," Keith reassures him, "what's on your mind, bud?"

Lance's head is flooded with thoughts; he wants to tell Keith just how he feels about him but the eminent doom of what would surely be a rejection stops him. He wants to confirm or deny his suspicions that he won't have a place in team Voltron anymore. Or maybe he just wants to know what Keith thinks of him. Lance's head spins but he opens his mouth to begin but somehow he blurts out everything all at once.

"I don't feel like I even have a place on the team anymore because everyone has something and I don't and I feel useless as if I'm just some normal guy while everyone else gets to be something special and I just want you to want me here and I know I make fun of you but I actually care more than I'd like to admit but I'm so jealous of you because you get to be something awesome that I could never be and I just want to be something and I..." he trails off into silence.

Keith slowly absorbs the information before once more glancing at the pile of limbs that is Lance before grabbing him by the shoulders and staring him straight in the eye, "You're not going anywhere. We aren't replacing you, Lance, and we aren't kicking you off the team."

His gaze softens and the muscles in his arms and hands relax a bit, "I'm not really sure how to put this next bit into words so you're just gonna have to trust me, okay?"

Lance pauses and cocks his head slightly, confused. Slowly he nods at Keith and says "I trust you."

And with that, Keith leans down and presses his lips to Lance's. Sliding one arm around his waist and one behind his head he kisses him smoothly but firmly. After a while he pulls away to reveal Lance, wide eyed and red faced, but now only the slight remnants of his tears remain glistening on his eyelashes.

Satisfied, Keith smirks through his words when he asks Lance, "does that give you your answer?"

Lance nods, causing Keith to smirk even more. Pushing himself up from the bed, Keith turns toward the door.

"Well then, if that's all you need from me I'll be in m-"

He's cut off by Lance who springs up and grabs Keith by the arm, spinning him around and kissing him again. This time it's Keith who's startled, but he quickly kisses Lance back. Lance's fingers run through Keith's long black hair and the other still holds him by the arm. The two pull away from each other and Lance, shooting Keith a challenging look, says "couldn't let you get away with winning that one, Kogane."

The slightest hint of pink dusts Keith's cheeks as he chuckles quietly to himself as he walks out of the room, leaving Lance standing in the middle of his room, now alone. But somehow, Lance didn't feel quite so separate anymore.

27 notes · View notes