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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms.

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you.

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.”

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #is this readers origin story #maybe?#i got a little carried away with this one #had to stop myself before i went even further beyond #i don't know if I want to continue with this as a story or just throw out some headcanons with modern reader #i like to think that everything i write takes place in a separate universe #especially the ones where they catch feelings #might throw out what they think of reader #might not #depends on you guys!#let me know what you think!

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anxious-patton · 6 years

Text

Collateral Damage - Chapter 1

Masterpost

A little something I’ve been working on recently. The writing is mine, but the idea was given to me by @vigilantvirgil and she deserves co-writer status for helping me with so many details, however minor.

Summary: A college AU in which Logan keeps a huge secret from Virgil.

Chapter Summary: Logan is paired up with Virgil for an art project in their shared optional art class.

Word Count: 2,320

Pairings: Analogical (romantic), Prinxiety (platonic), Logicality (platonic), Royality (platonic/romantic)

Co-Writer: @vigilantvirgil

Tag List: @fandomsandanythingelse @justanotherpurplebutterfly @artistictaurean @didsomeonesayprince @countessmissyshort @llamaly @icecoldparadise @sandersandthesides Ask and ye shall be added

So far, Logan's day had been hellish. The presentation he had spent all night working on had been postponed last minute, meaning that he was exhausted for no reason whatsoever. He had thus fallen asleep for half of his morning lecture and was missing a heck of a lot of notes he would need to borrow from a classmate. And just to top it all off, he had bashed shoulders in the dormitory hallway and spilled his coffee all over his shirt, meaning he had to turn around to change, was running late to his next class, and had no coffee.

He cursed under his breath as he neared the door, hearing the professor's voice already addressing the class, and pushed the door open, giving a small nod and a quick 'sorry' before settling in the nearest seat. Logan had chosen the 'Introduction to Art and Design' class as an optional extra. Something slightly less mentally taxing than his five-year astronomy course. A chance to relax and indulge in a hobby he rarely made time for anymore.

As the professor continued her presentation outlining the outcomes for the course, Logan's eyes settled on the only other kid not watching her intently. The intense purple pigment to his hair made it difficult not to be drawn to him. He seemed the artistic type. Grey and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows layered over a purple t-shirt to match his colourful head, ripped black skinny jeans and old black converse with designs of thunder clouds and lightning bolts scribbled all over the soles and toes. He had brought a pack of chalk pastilles along with him and was already frantically scribbling in a sketchbook in shades of purple, blue, pink, and black, fingertips smeared with them and arm imprinted with colour where he must have leaned on the drawing. Logan sat up straighter, trying to get a look at what he was drawing, but the boy’s backpack blocked his view.

“…just to give you a basic understanding of art and design this next semester,” Logan tuned back in to the professor’s speech, tearing his eyes away from the purple haired boy. “Today we will begin with something a little fun and expressive. I’m going to pair you all up to create a painting which expresses your interests. You will have three classes to complete this, so I recommend meeting outside of class on occasion as well.”

Logan deflated slightly. He despised teamwork. Rarely was the work distributed evenly, and it generally ended with Logan himself doing most of the work. His edgy, chalk-covered classmate seemed to be thinking the same thing, judging by the scowl on his face. They locked eyes for a moment and Logan shook his head and sighed. The other responded with an eye roll and a lopsided smile which made Logan’s heart beat slightly faster in his chest. He smiled back before breaking eye contact as the professor continued.

“Since I doubt that many of you know each other, please raise your hand when I call your name,” she said, beginning to read out the randomised pairs. Everyone shuffled their seating to begin planning with their partners and eventually Logan was forced to vacate his seat.

“Logan Sanders,” his head shot up as his name was called and he raised his hand slightly, “and Virgil Black”

“Hey, specs! Looks like you’re with me,” Logan followed the sound of that voice and found himself staring, once again, at the purple haired boy. Virgil. Perhaps this paired project wouldn’t be terrible after all.

Once everyone had been paired up, the professor had allowed them to leave the classroom to work wherever they chose, which is how Logan and Virgil found themselves in the campus coffee shop, sketching out ideas for their painting, discussing which artistic style would best represent them, discussing majors. Virgil, it seemed, was not in fact an art student, but a psychology major studying on a scholarship. And he had not only allowed Logan to ramble about astronomy for much longer than he had expected, but even seemed interested, stopping him from time to time to ask questions.

“Do you want a refill on your Americano?” Virgil asked, picking up his own mug, “I mean, I’m going up for more coffee anyway.”

Logan smiled, “That’s very kind of you, Virgil. It would be much appreciated.”

He watched the other take their cups back up to the desk and order more drinks before dipping his head to study their designs. Virgil had suggested finding a way to blend their majors together in a clever and artistic manor, but so far they were having no luck with the actual execution of the project. Especially considering all the planning time they had wasted on chit chat. Though Logan had to admit that it was a welcomed change to enjoy the company of an assigned partner, even if it did hinder their productivity just slightly.

“Here you go, spaceman,” the psychology student smiled, handing over a steaming mug. He settled next to Logan again and took a sip from his own mug. The way he held the liquid in his mouth for a moment – seeming to hesitate before gulping it down – suggested that he didn’t actually enjoy the taste. Logan suppressed an amused grin, deciding it best not to bring it up. He picked up a pencil, drawing another rectangle on their page of ideas and sketching out another scene of the two of them lying in a bookshop, surrounded by books on their favourite topics, and sheet music on Virgil’s side.

“This is more difficult than I had imagined. Combining the interests of two people who have only just met is no easy task,” Logan sighed, dropping the pencil again and resting his chin on his hand.

“No, I think we’re on to something, actually. I like the books. But what if we went back to the earlier idea with the galaxy and the constellations as well? Maybe have that pouring out of the pages?” Virgil suggested, sighing as his phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. And again. He sent a quick reply, setting it down on the table beside him, “My roommate. He’s on his way over. I kinda promised we’d have a pizza party and movie marathon tonight.”

Logan huffed out a laugh, “I think our roommates would get along brilliantly. But your idea sounds incredibly interesting. Do you think you could come up with a sketch for next week?”

Virgil nodded, “But, I mean, you could always just add me on Facebook? So I can send you the sketch and you can let me know what you think? Give me your phone and I’ll find myself.”

“Oh, um, yes. Social media. That works too,” Logan fumbled in his pockets for his phone, unlocking it and bringing up the search bar of Facebook before passing it to Virgil, who sent himself a quick friend request and passed the phone back, glancing up first at Logan, then behind him at the doors.

Virgil snorted, shaking his head and waving, and Logan turned to see a strikingly handsome young man in a white shirt – sleeves rolled up slightly like Virgil’s – a beige waistcoat, and dark navy jeans, a thin red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He excitedly held up two large pizza boxes, pointing frantically between them, Virgil, and himself. The psych student rolled his eyes, turning back to Logan, eyes widening at the pizza-wielding gentleman’s muffled shout of, “Disney!”

“My roommate, Roman,” he explained, packing away his art supplies and quickly downing what was left of his coffee. “He’s a little… Eccentric? But he’s harmless, really. He’s roped me into watching a bunch of Disney classics, and no doubt I’ll get his rendition of each soundtrack in its entirety. If I survive the night, I’ll PM you.”

“To his merit, pizza is more than a sufficient bribe,” Logan offered, passing Virgil his sketchbook and settling back down. “And thank you. For making this insidious task bearable. Enjoyable, even.”

“Likewise, specs. I’ll see you around,” the purple haired boy zipped up his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder and rushing out the doors to greet his exuberant friend, clapping him on the back and leading him away.

As Logan sat, sipping his coffee and trying to remember the names of his classmates from this morning’s astronomy lecture, his phone lit up with a notification from Facebook:

“Virgil Black accepted your friend request.”

Logan dropped his bag in his room, grabbing a pack of instant ramen and heading to the shared dormitory kitchen, an amazing smell filtering out into the hall, making his mouth water and stomach rumble. Whatever that was put his meal to shame.

He peered around the door, eyes landing immediately on his roommate’s favourite long, grey cardigan. The other boy glanced up, eyes landing on Logan and a grin spreading across his face, “Logan! You’re late home. Did you stay at the library again to study ahead? Oh! I made you an omelette if you’d rather have that than the ramen?”

Logan nodded thankfully, “Everything you cook smells incredible, Patton. Thank you.” He settled down at the table to wait, pulling out his phone to a notification from Virgil and opening it to see a short video of he and his roommate, the latter loudly singing along to ‘Let It Go’ as the former laughed and shook his head at him. “I didn’t stay late today, actually. Do you recall I mentioned that I had signed up for an art class?” Patton nodded. “Our first assignment is a paired task. And my partner is strangely… Tolerable. In fact, I might even say I enjoy his company.”

A loud gasp and Patton froze halfway to the table, “You made a friend?!” he exclaimed, feet dancing slightly in uncontained excitement. Logan thought perhaps he and Roman would hit it off immediately. His roommate placed a plate and cutlery in front of him, settling in the seat in front, “Logan, are you telling me that you’re late because you were spending time, willingly, with another human being?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Pat. I spend time willingly with you, do I not? But to answer your question, yes. We may have stayed longer than the duration of our class, and we may not have gotten much work done,” Logan rolled his eyes, cutting into the omelette and sighing happily at the taste. He had lucked out in the roommate department, that was for sure.

“I… Am so proud of you! There is much more to the college experience than grades, Logan. I’ll admit I was a little worried for a while there that you would let this whole time pass just locked away in the library or in our room,” Patton cut a chunk of his own omelette, continuing to speak through his mouthful, “Whas ‘is name?”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Virgil. Psychology major. And I don’t spend all of my time in our room. I… Go for coffee as well. I go outside.”

He glanced down at his phone. Another notification from Virgil. He opened the app to find a photo this time of Roman with his mouth full of pizza, trying and failing to block the camera with his hand. The caption read ‘the ego maniac in his natural habitat’, and Logan huffed out a laugh at that. He sensed eyes on him and looked up to find Patton leaning across the table, staring at him and grinning stupidly.

“Soooo… Is he cute?” He asked, making grabby hands at Logan’s phone, “Let me see! Let me see the boy who can make my roommate laugh!”

Logan rolled his eyes, bringing up Virgil’s profile and wondering if it would be weird to have a quick look through his photos. Well, Patton wanted to see him, and his profile picture was a darkened, edgy grayscale edit of himself sitting on a fence playing guitar. No purple hair in sight. Shifting to the seat next to Patton and bringing his food with him, he clicked on his photos. Patton grabbed the phone from his hands, flicking through some of the more recent ones, “Ohhh, I didn’t think punk guys were your type.”

“Patton, may I just quickly point out that this man is not my love interest. He is my partner for one art project. And besides, I’m more interested in the people themselves, as opposed to what they look like,” he sighed, rubbing his temples as Patton continued flicking through the photographs. “Not to mention, even if I were interested-- Which I’m not! He’s barely an acquaintance. But even if I were, it’s likely he’s not even into guys.”

Patton paused, turning the phone around, showing him one photo Roman had tagged him in, “Here’s a photo of him kissing Roman Prince at a party.”

Logan blinked, staring in silence for a moment with raised eyebrows. Yes. They certainly were kissing. “Okay, I stand corrected. Wait. You know Roman?”

The other nodded, “Of course! Who on campus doesn’t? He started last year. Theatre kid. Gets the lead in almost every show. Got arrested once for drunkenly stealing his prince outfit from the theatre department and singing in the streets at 4AM. Now we all call him Princey. It’s great. Funny guy.”

“He got arrested?”

Patton just waved a hand in dismissal, “I went to that party. It was fun,” he mused, staring at nothing for a moment before passing Logan his phone back and returning to his food, “This Virgil looks like a nice kid. Could be good for you, Logan. Get you out more.”

“Whatever you say, Pat,” Logan scoffed, finishing his food and standing to wash his plate. He dried his hands and put the dish back in its cabinet before taking his phone out and sending Virgil another message:

“Coffee tomorrow?”

#sanders sides #ts sides #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #analogical #analogical fic #prinxiety #logicality #logic sanders #creativity sanders #anxiety sanders #morality sanders

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avidbeader · 7 years

Text

Yet more of the Sheith soulmates AU

Part 1

Part 2

Voltron fic-in-progress, likely T-rating when all is said and done, and Sheith without monkeying with their ages. Concrit and feedback and title inspirations are welcome.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

When the press conference happened, Keith watched from Shiro’s couch. He leaned forward intently, waiting for the spokesperson to wade through all the things that the Garrison residents would know but that the general population needed for context. Then the spokesperson got to the heart of the matter.

“It is with the deepest sadness and regret that we must share that the Kerberos mission was a failure. The ship appears to have crashed on the moon. We presume at this point that it was due to pilot error, some mistake by Captain Shirogane—”

“WHAT?” Keith shouted in disbelief.

“—and all crew members are missing, presumed dead.”

“YOU LIARS!” He threw the remote hard enough to leave a dent in the wall next to the viewscreen before charging out of Shiro’s apartment.

<> <> <> <> <>

Iverson intercepted him before he got halfway to the Garrison’s conference center. He grabbed Keith by the shoulders and swung him around.

“I know, I know. The higher-ups are trying to brush it all under a rug because if we let it out that hostile aliens exist we’ll have a worldwide panic. And even if we were able to get a new team out just like that we still wouldn’t arrive in time to help. They’re long gone.”

His words shredded Keith from his throat to the pit of his stomach. Until this point he had refused to consider the worst, that Shiro was gone forever. He choked out, “But pilot error? Why not mechanical failure if you have to lie about it? Why blame Shiro?”

“Because too many egos are involved in the design and construction of the ships. It would set us back years if we had to redesign anything due to mechanical failure.”

“You’re scapegoating him!”

“Son—”

“You’re going to let his family, his friends, all of history believe he’s a failure when he’s not!”

“Cadet!”

Keith ground his teeth together, holding back the torrent of words.

“You have to stay quiet. If you want any kind of future here, if you want the chance to get to space yourself, you have to stay quiet. Do you understand? Don’t you think he would have wanted you to achieve your dreams?”

“He does want it. Don’t forget, he’s still alive out there. I know that for a fact.”

With that, Keith batted Iverson’s hands away from him and stalked back the way he came.

He didn’t see Iverson’s expression harden as he watched the youth leave.

Neither of them saw the small figure hiding in a recess in the wall nearby.

<> <> <> <> <>

Katie Holt wasn’t quite sure how she managed to sneak back to the guest quarters where she and her mother were staying. Every bit of her considerable mind was wrapped around what she had heard. Shiro had not crashed. They had seemingly run into aliens and been captured. This cadet swore that Shiro was alive, which meant that her family was out there, still alive, and the Garrison wasn’t planning to even try a rescue. They were going to cover it all up instead and abandon the crew.

She wondered at first how the cadet could be so certain about Shiro, then it hit her. Shiro had a soulmate. Matt had brought it up, making a funny story about them discovering each other in a hand-to-hand combat class. Her father had helped Shiro, something about a scientist wanting to study the bond as two soulmates were about to be divided by the greatest distance ever recorded.

So this cadet knew for certain that Shiro was alive. He might be able to tell from Shiro’s emotions whether her father and Matt were all right. Now she had one available proof.

But two proofs would be better. She would stake out Iverson’s office and try to access any video feeds from the ship that would show a safe landing. Armed with both, she could get her mother and maybe Shiro’s parents to believe and act on the information.

<> <> <> <> <>

Keith managed to hold himself together for the next week. Other than his classes and meals, he hid out in Shiro’s apartment. He spent hours curled up on Shiro’s bed, focusing love and support through their bond. Shiro was still afraid, sometimes angry, injured once, and often sick to his very core over having to kill. Keith guessed that Shiro had been conscripted into some alien army, fighting beings that he had no quarrel with for the sake of the aliens who had kidnapped him. He often worried about the Holts, so Keith had further proof that the entire crew had survived the initial arrival on Kerberos.

He had put Dr. Hooper off, claiming illness and then questioning her need for him as she had her own records of the soul bond extending all the way to Kerberos without losing any strength. But two weeks after the press conference, she called him.

“I need you to meet me immediately, somewhere off campus. It’s hugely important.”

“I don’t know what more I can tell you, but all right. The coffeeshop next to Stellaluna’s Pizza?”

“Be there as soon as possible.”

Keith left Shiro’s apartment and took his hoverbike into town. He entered the shop and looked around, but it took a hand waved at him to recognize her. Dr. Hooper had cut her long dark hair short and lightened it.

He sat down across from her and frowned as she scanned the shop once more. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that someone killed our project. I haven’t been able to figure out who or why, but something is very, very wrong. Here, take this.” She used her foot to push a backpack against his legs, something fairly heavy inside. “Don’t open it here. I drew out the rest of the grant money just before they closed that off, too. This is your share in cash, small bills. Do not deposit it.”

“But—”

“If I’m wrong, then fine. I’ll look like an idiot. But it hit me, you and I are the only people that can prove that the Kerberos crew is alive. And someone important decided that they need to be dead. I have family up in Alberta who can help me hide. Do you want to come with me?”

“I…no. If what you’re saying is true we need to split up. I think I have somewhere to go if I need it. But I should talk to Iverson, he’s the only one left who will listen to me.”

Hooper’s face creased in worry lines. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

She stood then leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s been wonderful to work with you. I hope… I don’t know what I hope. But good luck.” She shouldered her purse, picked up her coffee, and left.

<> <> <> <> <>

Hooper’s worry was contagious. When Keith returned to the apartment block at the Garrison, he parked inside the basement garage instead of on the street. He unzipped the backpack enough to see that it was indeed full of fives, tens, and twenties. He locked it in the hold behind the hoverbike seat.

Once in Shiro’s apartment, he found an empty duffle bag and swiftly tossed in clothes from the drawers he had used, grabbing armfuls carelessly. He added the few things that he had brought with him from his own room: the dagger his father had said was from his mother’s family, the single picture he had of his dad, and the black belt he had earned just a month before leaving for the Garrison. He took the packed back down to the garage and added it to the hold.

If he was wrong, he wouldn’t look too much like a paranoid idiot.

<> <> <> <> <>

It was sooner than she would like, but it had to be tonight. Colleen Holt had been awarded a massive amount of compensation money and was returning to her parents’ home in Connecticut with Katie to try and rebuild her life. Their flight was scheduled for tomorrow.

Katie dressed simply, in jeans and a shirt, leaving her backpack of tech behind. She had been allowed to wander freely over most of the complex so far. Her pocket tablet had what she would need to decode any locked door quickly. After that it was a matter of getting into Iverson’s computer and finding the files.

Piece of cake.

<> <> <> <> <>

This was new.

Shiro tried to keep his emotions on an even keel for Keith’s sake, but any change in the routine usually meant pain and blood. Today he and Ch’varr, the red-horned alien, had been pulled out of their cells and loaded into a small transport, going away from the arena. They would not be fighting in teams against large creatures for the entertainment of these aliens—these Galra.

Just yesterday one of the other aliens, Merool, had died in the fight. The creature’s claws had not cut very deep, but from the amount of blood that resulted it was clear that a major artery had been sliced open. Matt and Xi had tried to stem the blood while the others worked to bring the beast down. But by the time they succeeded and ran over to help Merool, he was dead.

Last night was the closest Shiro had come to considering suicide. It would be so easy: provoke a guard, move the wrong way in the next fight, even make a statement of it in the arena by impaling himself on one of the swords. But he knew he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do that to Matt and leave him alone here, with no one else.

He couldn’t do that to Commander Holt, who was hopefully still out there somewhere.

And he couldn’t do that to Keith. His father had made it abundantly clear just how devastating it was to lose that beloved presence, how empty it left one’s mind and heart. Before modern psychology and mental care, soulmates had usually followed each other into death by suicide or neglect.

He would not do that to Keith.

Besides, the only way to get back to Earth somehow was to keep living, keep hoping, and keep looking for a way out.

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Part 4

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #sheith #fanfic: voltron #voltron fanfic #quintessential bond by avidbeader

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