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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

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Entirely and Then Some (Prequel)(Scathach, Cu Chulainn, Hakuno)

Following Part

____

It was only natural that she wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable in this building.

Having been with one person only, she was more accustomed to keeping her sexual escapades private. Each endeavor into the sensual was normally something that Gilgamesh directed, having decided that he had gone on long enough on the matter.

The first time they’d been together, it was when she had stumbled in his coat closet while getting her coat and found him napping on a bench. He’d decided to kiss her in order to make a hunting associate in the Sumerian firm think that he had found his own company for the evening. She’d gone exactly with that train of thought… but the kiss had sparked the two of them falling to the floor and beginning what would be a long and interesting night.

She’d awakened the next morning in a condo she didn’t recognize, her hair tangled and her face pressed against a man’s chest.

They’d tried oral next, but…

Well, she wasn’t sure how that worked.

The attempt had been sloppy, making her gag reflex go off so often that she’d opted to climbing up his person and shoving him back against the couch, forcing him to just accept that she could only do it in what he had called the “vanilla” way.

They still had sex after that, but it was pretty standard.

He grumbled if she took charge too much.

She coughed and hacked for ages if he pushed the idea of oral back into the conversation.

Between the two of them, they had become so accustomed to being with one another and so used to one another’s company that things had dulled.

Things had dulled far too much.

Which was why she was here.

The boldly emblazed emblem of the sex store loomed overhead, almost proclaiming in Gil’s own voice that she was too novice to entangle herself in the world of toys and gimmicks in the bedroom. Everywhere she looked, there were things she almost wished to close her eyes against.

“Hmm?” A man nearby glanced her way, blinking in surprise as he caught sight of her. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I-I’m just looking.”

“ARE YOU BOTHERING COMPANY, CU?!”

The sound of yelling made them both jump, the man growling as he stood up.

“I WAS ASKIN’ HER IF SHE NEEDED HELP, OLD HAG!”

The woman seemed to throw the back door open, glaring his direction.

The fight began almost immediately.

The two seemed intent upon fighting with one another, drawing her eyes back to the door.

There were other stores nearby… The fluffy windowed one with the man inside that looked about ready to go apeshit couldn’t be that bad…

“Can we help you find something?”

Hakuno jumped at the sound of the ‘Old Hag’s gentle voice. She glanced in the woman’s direction to find that she had the man in a chokehold and was starting to calm down.

“Miss?”

“I-I told your friend I was just looking.”

“He’s my pupil…” She shoved the man towards the back. “Go restock. I’ll help her.”

“Really, it’s fine. I just was curious if there was anything interesting for… that kind of thing.”

The two glanced to one another, their eyes both turning to her after what seemed to be unspoken conversation.

“New relationship?” the man asked.

“I’ve been with him for a year. I catered his business event.”

The two nodded a little, pulling her further and further from the door to the outside world.

“How often do you find one another doing-“

“We haven’t really been sleeping in the same bed in a little over a month. Sometimes he comes back after being up for days working in his office.”

“He’s staying in his office?”

Hakuno nodded.

It was becoming a concern.

She knew that there wasn’t anything he would be doing. If he was tired of her, then he would have simply cut things off and gotten her set up in another apartment. There wouldn’t be any secret affairs or other women… but still…

At the rate he was going, he would stay in his office permanently.

He would end up working himself to death.

He was already showing signs of going too far.

“What stops you from coming onto him?”

“We ah… have different opinions of certain things.”

She was fine with being on top of him. He was fine with having himself in her mouth so he could enjoy dirty talking her to the point of no return.

“Cock ring?”

The blue-haired man’s offer had her shaking her head quickly. “We don’t have that problem.”

“It isn’t about problems. It’s about dominance.”

“Ignore him. What does this guy like?”

“Scathach, let her look at more of the-“

“Shut up, Cu Chulainn.”

Cu Chulainn rolled his eyes, placing the bag with the ring back on the shelf.

“Gil wants to have successful oral.”

The woman frowned. “And?”

“I can’t-“

A tube was placed in her hands, the man nearby smirking as he gave her the thing.

“You have a sensitive gag reflex, don’t you?” he all but purred.

She nodded.

“Alright, just a second.” He popped the cap open, earning a growl from the woman on Hakuno’s other side. “Sheesh, shut it for a minute, woman. I’ve got a royal pain at home that has the same damn problem.”

He let a bit of the clear gel get on his finger before placing his finger in his mouth a moment.

“Sho-“ he told her, “thish shtuff hash a numbing agent.”

“Cu-“

He waved off Scathach again, continuing. “It has a numbing agent that blocks that reflex. It really handles that problem well, but just make sure you can breathe, alright?”

“You’re paying for that tube, Cu Chulainn.”

Again, he waved the woman off. “You don’t have to put your hand in deep to use it, just make sure to stick your tongue out a bit and apply the little amount liberally near the back. When you close your mouth, you swallow a couple times and it really handles itself. Lasts ah… maybe a couple hours?”

“So… I can use this and not have any gag reflex?”

She really wasn’t sure that she wanted to listen to Gilgamesh go on for ages, but…

He would be home again.

The nighttime felt like it lasted eternity when he wasn’t there. Their condo, despite its opulence and its comfy blankets and cushions, felt more like a stifling museum rather than a home.

She didn’t like the bed when he wasn’t in it.

When Gilgamesh had become so vital to her life, she’d never know. He simply was a requirement.

“How are you plannin’ on getting him to come home?”

“Gilgamesh has been gone for six days,” she told them both. “Siduri told me that he has to come home once they finish the project they’ve been working on. He had to nap earlier this morning to keep from losing his temper.”

“So he’s coming back tonight?”

She nodded.

The two were looking to one another again, leading her in the direction of the lingerie.

“What’s your preference on clothes?”

“I have things from him. Some panties and ah… things.”

“Heels?” Scathach asked, motioning to the collection.

Hakuno glanced at the cheetah print pair and sighed. “Can you grab another tube of this numbing stuff, Cu?”

“I’m on it.”

“And I think I’m a size seven,” she told Scathach, pointing at the heinous heels nearby.

The responding amused smirk was only the start to her talk.

Cu Chulainn talked about heels and how to connect them to pants to pull someone closer. Scathach talked about how to wear barely anything and seem like you were wearing a full suit of armor. The two pulled her deeper into the store, talking up practices until another guest came in.

Hakuno remained hidden as Cu went to help the woman.

“Just do as we taught you,” Scathach murmured, ringing her up in a quiet corner of the building. “You’ll do fine.”

She hoped that was true.

Stepping out into the streets with her nondescript bag in hand, Hakuno sent a silent prayer to the gods above before heading home to change.

There wasn’t much time left.

She had a lot of work to do.

#drabble #drabbles

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etcwrites · 6 years

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The Convoluted Dance

Lancelot Week Day 6 @lancelotweek

Prompt: strengths/insecurities

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Status: Completed

Summary:

There are a few moments when Lance sees it.

One day it is at the corner of Lotor’s smile, the other, it is in his clenched fists as he refuses to give up.

And sometimes -

Sometimes... Lance can even see it in himself.

AO3 Link

“Alright, team! Look alive!”

Lance adjusts his rifle, voice full of energy as his fingers make quick work of his gun, the scope soon focusing to show the crowd filing the avenue. "And don't get caught with your pants down"

"Tch!"

"Ahahahaha! Lance!"

"Alvarez, SHUT up!"

“Hey!” Lance argues, voice going high in indignation even though a smile spreads across his lips.

“First of all,” he chats, fingers checking the mechanism of his rifle and making sure it is locked on the ledge. “Zethrid! Rude! Didn't I ask you to call me Lance?”

He makes a disappointed noise at the back of his throat.

“Second, how could you?! I shared all of my hair braiding secrets with you!”

“Alvarez!”

“He is right you know, I mean he DID share his trade secrets with you"

"Thank you!"

“Ezor, for fucks sake, not you too!”

“Can we please focus on the job at hand?!”

Hearing Acxa’s tone they all fall quiet.

Then...

“Just saying,” Lance murmurs, making sure his voice conveys a perfect kicked puppy imitation. “I feel so betrayed.”

“Lance!"

“Yeess?”

“Enough.”

Swallowing down his nervous giggle, Lance focuses his attention on the crowd, surveying the area through the scope. His nerves tingle with charged energy, paranoia getting under his skin and rubbing him the wrong way, like an annoying itch that he can't scratch.

"Alright, I'll play nice" he adds at last, getting into a more comfortable sitting situation, tone finally turning a touch serious.

Ezor giggles over their communication line, eyes searching the roofs, and locating him to give a small wave. She is positioned inside the crowd, her shapeshifting ability making her the best candidate to hide within the masses.

Zethrid is at the rear, positioned near the ornamental statue of Voltron, her giant body visible through the crowd if not for her sheer size, then because she is accompanied by various Galra peace members and Blades of Marmora agents. They are waiting quietly and patiently while getting various glances from the crowd, some distrustful, others downright terrified. The usual stuff...

And Acxa...

Scope moving Lance traces through the crowd to finally end up at the podium, the stage clear but filled with all kinds of equipment, ready to start the broadcast at any minute.

All according to schedule Acxa is still at back stage, accompanying the King. She is to stay at his side at all times, with everyone nervous of exposing their leader for too long.

Exhaling Lance bites into his lip, suddenly the silence getting to him. Before he can stop himself words tumble from his mouth. "So how is our oh mighty leader doing?"

There is silence for a few seconds then Acxa's voice cracks through the line. "....he is...ready."

Lance swallows down his sigh, giving a tiny eye roll instead. "I'm sure he is," he mutters. "But that wasn't what I asked." Through his scope he catches Zethrid's exasperated eye roll but decides to ignore it. That woman has been crossed of his list for treacherous behavior.

A few tense seconds pass then...

"He says that you should stop worrying."

Stop worrying?! He isn't worried! He is NOT!.... ok, maybe he is. BUT that doesn't give the right to the pretty boy to call him out on it!

"Does he now?" Lance grumbles.

"Lance," Acxa warns again, this time her voice quiet as if she is trying to keep their conversation from a certain Galra King. "I need you to focus"

Gritting his teeth Lance shifts his position and pulling his eye from the scope sends a quick glance to the empty stage. "Yes, fine" he replies a second later, eyes absentmindedly tracing over the crowd.

He knows... he knows how this is supposed to go, how it is planned and yet-

A subtle ripple goes through the crowd, eyes and ears turning towards the stage, a low murmur starting, soon to be crushed into an booming applause. Each and every equipment on the stage suddenly comes alive and as if cued, from the left corner, a hero walks on to the stage.

"Shiro! Shiro! Shiro! Shiro!"

And behind him, Lance finally sees....Lotor...

He stands with his head high, posture relaxed and a pleasant (fake! fake! fake!) smile over lips. Even with the power and confidence radiating from his frame, he looks vulnerable beside Shiro and his paladin armor. His white ornamental robes sway in the light breeze, long hair open and down.

"We thank you for your support! This war couldn't have been won without your faith and support!"

Another round of applause ripples through the spectators, the crowd absolutely in love with Shiro the Hero.

But soon... it will be Lotor's turn.

Determination spreading over his shoulders, Lance takes a deep breath then once again settles into his position, one eye closed, the other at the scope. "-And now please give a warm welcome to our ally, King of Galra, Lotor!"

A loaded confused silence falls over the crowd, all eyes and cameras turning towards the new Galra King.

Lance takes a deep breath.

It is showtime!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"King?" Lance questioned, eyes tracking Lotor's movements as the other strolled through the command room.

"Yes," Lotor replied easily, confident in every way. “We've concluded the term emperor can be conceived as... imposing."

Lance gave an unapologetic snort. No shit!

"Think of it as... REBRANDING!" Coran chipped in, his energy and adorable try in jazz hands giving Lance life. "I believe that's what is called, yes, rebranding... I mean a fresh perspective is really needed when it comes to Galra nation, I mean I can't even-" Suddenly stopping Coran gave Lotor an almost apologetic smile. "No offense, Prince Lotor"

A calm and polite smile appeared on Lotor's face, his tone incredibly accommodating when he spoke. "None taken"

Lance’s eyes narrowed, carefully watching the prince. There was something wrong with that smile.

"The people are not ready to face another Galra Emperor" Allura cut in, her tone soft but in control.

Which was fair, Lance supposed. After Zarkon and his crushing tyranny the universe certainly deserved something better.

"What about the Galra?" Keith grumbled.

Immediately Lance's gaze fixed on the other boy, eyes this time narrowing in thought.

The Galra?...

"Yes?" Lotor asked, a brow rising elegantly.

"They can't be too happy about this!"

Oh... As much as it pained him to admit it, Keith was right.

"The mullet has a good point" Lance supported, ignoring but immensely enjoying the conflicted scowl on Keith's face. "Your people won't be pleased that you are leaving the title for something less."

They won't be pleased with you leaving the conquest, went unsaid.

Though as if he heard the silent challenge, Lotor turned to him, for a few seconds something dark passing through his eyes before, once again control shifted into its familiar place. "Let me handle my people”

A tight self-deprecating smile spread over Lotor’s lips, causing an unidentified chill to pass down Lance's spine. "You will soon understand how adaptive they can be."

That was the first time Lance ever saw it.

Strength and weakness...all wrapped into one entity...

It was...intriguing.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Lotor looks calm over the podium, his hands open and entirely unthreatening against the defensive faces of the crowd. "People of Naen!" He calls out, voice warm even through the metallic quality of the sound system. "I know you are sceptic at seeing me before you and even though you may have doubts, I want to you to be certain why we are here."

Lance turns his scope away, tracing through the crowd and looking for any disturbance.

"We are here, only because we hope for a better future!"

Breath hitching Lance keeps himself from turning towards Lotor. The line sounds so... sincere, so natural. If Lance hadn't known the production phase, he thinks he would have been fooled by the whole display.

Quickly checking a few faces from the crowd he almost bites his lip. There is shock and disbelief in almost every face, a hushed expectant silence falling over the crowd. There is also a healthy amount of distrust but that ought to be expected.

But one thing is certain. The crowd can't take their eyes of the Galra King.

"That is true" Lotor continues, his voice turning softer. "I don't expect you to believe that I am, we are here for the prosperity of the universe. Because that is simply...not true."

A collective murmur breaks through the crowd, Lance's finger twitching over the trigger. He can't watch Lotor from his current point of view but he knows this is the part where he moves from his position, getting closer to the people.

“It is not the prosperity of the universe that we seek! What drives us is simply... family.

A new kind of silence falls over the crowd as people of Naen turn wistful.

There is a clog at Lance's throat as well, eyes stinging and as he watches he can see similar expressions on other people's faces. Painful or grateful...remembering family matters.

"We want a better future for them, we want to give them hope, to protect them!"

A pause and Lance can swear every heart stops with Lotor's words, his own throat turning tight with nervous energy as sweat breaks inside his palms at hearing this new part.

"But most vital of all...we want to belong."

Lance's heart stops.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Lance has always been a people's person, coming from a crowded and close family culture it wasn't really surprising.

He has always been proud of being a people's person too. Wanting to be close to someone, sharing bits and pieces of your experiences, just reaching out and touching...

Though...sometimes universe was too vast, too hostile to just reach out and connect.

“Was you father an alien? Because let me tell you, there’s nothing else like you on Earth!"

A few amused huffs and disapproving, condescending eye brows later, Lance waved off the passing Galras, his feet moving past them.

"Ok," he smiled over his shoulder. "I get it, you are simply mesmerized by my touching lines. You need time to absorb the beauty of them."

It has been nearly two months since he had started travelling with the Galra nation, the program to ensure the peace and integration throughout the universe requiring the Paladins to connect with their allies. Pidge had got the Olkari, Hunk, the Balmerans (lucky bastard!). Keith was with the Arusians and Shiro with Puigians which left Lance with...the Galra.

It was cool though, it was ok. Lotor was calm, all polished smiles and diplomatic nods and his generals even though tense at times were...civil. Blades of Marmora were still cautious but slowly establishing relationships and starting to trust... and yet, Lance's attempts at connecting with others were not yielding much positive results.

It wasn't that Lance was ostracized or actively shut out. Oh no! He still had a certain level of connection with some Galras, thank you very much. And those were certainly promising but without his lion Lance guessed he would have gone insane by now.

Moving down the corridor, he let his feet to take him towards the communal areas, hoping to actually find an opportunity to start a conversation with a few people. The ship was almost a maze, each and every corridor looking same to him, and two months still not enough time to fully explore the giant space.

But communal area 5 was probably the most popular and easily accessible area within the ship and that’s where Lance spent most of his days. It was always crowded which actually gave him the opportunity to struck a few conversations with the others and it was-

Suddenly stopping at the entrance, Lance found himself looking at the back of a group of Galra, the hall packed with people.

Communal area 5 might have been popular but it was never this crowded...

"Hey, what is happening?"

At his question, the Galra with a red mane gave a side glance; lips pushed together and thin tale flicking against her thigh. "Ragk" she murmured, body moving aside and allowing Lance to see the center of the crowd where a huge Galra was towering over a petite figure, teeth bared and hackles raised....literally.

"You think you have the right?! You need to learn your place, half breed!."

"Huh, and what IS my place, exactly?! C'mon dirtbag, tell me!"

Wait...did he know that small Galra?... she looked so familiar...

Suddenly a growl reverberated from the huge Galra's throat who Lance guessed to be Ragk, sharp teeth glinting in the artificial light of the ship. "Insolent mutt!" A huge hand reached over and before the other could stop it, curled around her throat.

What the hell?!

Lance looked around, expecting to see an inclination towards separating the two, only to find neutral faces.

Seriously?! What was this? Fight Club?!

Before he could authorize it with his brain, he had already moved, body wriggling between the other Galra

and moving towards the two at the center.

“Fuck off!”

The other Galra was struggling, her teeth bared and trying to bite into Ragk’s hand, while her tail swished angrily, almost striking the other in the face.

He knew her but...he just couldn’t pin it down. Though shaking the doubt away Lance stepped forward.

“Heyyyyy guys, let’s try something different today and not rip each other’s throat out, yes?”

He pulled on Ragk’s arm, his other hand reaching out towards the other Galra. At the contact both of them turned towards him, surprise showing on their faces...in fact shock was in every face surrounding Lance, all Galra undecided on what to do with this new development.

At last Ragk decided to take the lead.

“This is not your fight, Paladin!” he growled, eyes narrowing in disdain, the message clear in his voice.

Back off!

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed indignant, his fingers digging into the other’s skin, still trying to pry it away. “This is a peace mission, so yeah it is my fight!”

Ok...that didn’t really make sense, but -

Suddenly the petite Galra’s body twisted, tail turning and swishing across the air to land a solid across Ragk’s face, and subsequently with a quick move teeth cutting into his hand.

A pained howl fell from Ragk’s mouth, blood running down his hand.

Shit!

As the two separated, Lance bit down on his lip but stepped between them, panic churning deep inside him and fear travelling down his spine.

“Chett! You mutt!”

Wait...Chett?! Ah, now he remembered-

Before Lance could take another breath, Ragk gave a loud growl, his body charging towards the other.

“Hey, hey! Back off! Now!”

No wonder finding a skinny human between his body and his target, Ragk looked surprised, his eyes opening wide before narrowing into dangerous slits.

“I said,” he growled. “it is not your fight. Get out of my way!”

Lance took a deep breath, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“No.” he said simply, thanking universe for keeping his voice steady. “I’m not getting out of your way. Not with your attitude.”

“With my attitude?” Danger was extremely clear in Ragk’s voice, his eyes now fully shifting from Chett to Lance. Or maybe it was homicidal intent...

“Yeah, buddy!” Lance said, putting his hands over his hips, chin up with stubbornness. “Your attitude! What gives you the right to call her such names?”

Behind him Lance felt Chett shift, barely getting close to him.

“For one, I know she was one of the few who were stationed on the planet Ers. Half breed or not she fought for your stupid ass so you might consider re-thinking how you are going to address her. Besides -”

Ragk looked only shy away from strangling him but now Lance was pissed. Taking a step towards the giant Galra, he hit across Ragk’s chest with the back of his hand. “- do you really think you can afford fighting amongst yourselves, and alienate each other when half of the universe distrust your nation and the other half hates even hearing the word Galra?! Get real! You need to stick together or you are not going to make it!”

An eerie silence fell over the room.

Shit, Lance thought, panic squeezing around his throat. Great work at making friends, Lance.

Now he was always going to be an outsider and not just any outsider, but an outsider who looked down on them, who scolded them... Great...just great...

Taking a deep breath Lance readied himself to facing the music and drawing every Galra’s gaze on to himself. His hands curled into loose fists, legs shaking slightly, eyes watching carefully –

Wait?... Where were they looking? Somewhere-somewhere behind him?...

Turning slowly Lance surveyed the area, his eyes almost immediately focusing on the all familiar figure of Ezor and right beside her -

Lotor.

Shit...

Breath hitching Lance forced himself to calm down, a nervous tingle spreading down his spine, and his mind trying to estimate how much of the conversation Lotor might have heard.

“King Lotor-” he started, turning his attention to Lotor’s expression, entirely prepared to find anger, annoyance or any other negative feeling, yet-

There was a pleased smirk on Lotor’s lips... not a diplomatic smile, or a controlled neutral expression but a smirk!

“The Paladin is right!” Lotor said, his voice carrying across the hall without any difficulty. “We will only be defeated faster if we start fighting amongst ourselves, if we try to bring each other down.”

Eyes turning to Lance and taking in his surprised expression, Lotor’s smirk got softer. “We need to stick together.”

Lance felt his throat close, face burning.

The second time he saw it...it was a realization, catching him off guard...

It was eye opening.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Let me tell you a story" Lotor says, causing Lance's head to rise from the rifle and wide eyes to focus on the stage. He doesn't remember any of these being in the original speech, yet they all fit, like puzzle pieces that finally make the picture clear.

Lotor looks entirely too comfortable in front of an unfamiliar crowd, the silver in his white robes catching the lights from Naen's red sun and giving him an ethereal feeling.

Lance wonders if this was planned as well.

"It is the story of a young child born into controversy, persecuted from the start because of looking different, because of not being pure enough. A half breed." Lotor stops, eyes taking in the whole crowd, something rising from his frame, for a few seconds expanding, enlarging, imposing.

A shiver runs down Lance’s spine, his throat closing off.

"That was what the child was called.” Lotor continues, eyes entirely fixed on the crowd. “‘You don't belong’, was what the child heard each and every day. It was the punishment...of being born different." Taking an audible breath Lotor stops at the edge of the stage. Silence expands before him, all eyes fixed on him.

"... Her name was Narti"

Shock ripples through Lance, similar reactions echoing through the other communication lines as well, each and every member of the audience including his team seem surprised, the world pulled right under their feet.

“What is this?...” Zethrid breathes her voice tight and grave. “What is he doing?!”

Lance swallows, his fingers clenching around the rifle as the same question burns in his mind without any answer.

“She was a half breed as me, she was an ally, a... friend, and yet - She was let down.” Eyes turning down, Lotor opens his hand, palms towards the audience, his frame looking extremely defenseless on the giant empty stage.

“She died because of her family”

Ezor takes a sharp breath, wetness in her voice calling for Lance’s attention.

Then taking a step back Lotor raises his head, eyes once again travelling across the crowd. “I have never had a family in the conventional sense.” He offers. “For me, it was never about blood”

Eyes fixed across the crowd, he raises his head. “It was about bond.”

Taking a few steps across the stage Lotor inhales with determination, a new kind of power settling over his frame, this time the energy far from hostile. “I am the leader of my people! I am the leader of Galra, of half breeds, of persecuted and persecutors. With their successes and failures, they are my family.”

Looking through the crowd, Lotor soon fixes his gaze on Queen of Naen, her eyes looking even bigger now. “It is a leader’s responsibility to protect his people.” Lotor addresses the queen, his voice kinder. “ It is his responsibility to provide a better future for his family.”

For a single suspended moment, the crowd holds its breath, the queen scrutinizing Lotor, then...a tiny nod.

Replying with a nod of his own Lotor, once again turns towards the crowd. “That’s why I am here.”

As Lance watches the King takes a controlled breath, voice rising with emotion.

“The war wounded each and every one of us! It has left ruins in our cities, yes! But more tragically it has left debris and rubble in our hearts. With every one we have lost-“

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"The war has left ruins behind, not just in our cities but in our hearts as well-"

"Now, that was good!"

"No.." Lotor growled, eyes fleeting across the paper in his hands. "It is too dry, it needs more feeling, a stronger tempo- It has to be more!"

"Uugh!" Lance let his head fall between the pillows his naked legs rising towards the ceiling as he wiggled his toes. "It has enough feeling, Lotor, please. You've been at it for five hours"

Raising his head Lance watched as, spectacularly ignoring him Lotor once again took his place in front of the mirror, eyes carefully fixed on his reflection, clearly ready to take the freaking speech from the top.

With a sigh Lance turned across the bed, face now turned towards the ceiling and long legs rising up and opening to the sides rhythmically. "At this point it is normal that it sounds dry to you" he tried, voice softer. “You’ve gone over it one too many times. You know the lines! That’s why they feel bland.”

There was a brief silence, then...

"Lance..." Lotor warned softly, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I have to get this right."

There it was...the fear

"My people-"

Turning on his stomach Lance fixed his gaze on the other man. "They know you are trying your best, they have eyes and they can see it!" Then getting up from the bed, Lance let himself get close to the other man, eyes fleeting across his face.

Under the soft lights of the bedroom, Lotor looked tired, shoulders down, blue eyes unfocused but his jaw set, stubbornness bleeding from his frame.

"You need to rest," he murmured softly into the space between their lips, hands settling over the other man's shoulders then moving up to cup his cheeks. "You have been at this for hours"

At the contact Lotor's body relaxed as a whole, a sigh making it past his lips, and eyes closing in relief.

Even after all this time, it was still exciting to see when Lotor showed vulnerability, his carefully built walls coming down around Lance, opening up, trusting...

Encouraged at the reaction Lance took another step, warm body perfectly curling into Lotor's space. "C'mon, pretty boy, you can take another look in the morning." Lips ghosting, Lance gave his lover a look under his lashes. Fingers sensually trailed down the other man's arm, movements slow and careful, almost afraid to scare him. "It will be a fresh start." he whispered, fingers now brushing against the printed copy of the speech. "Just come to bed..."

Lotor opened his eyes to look at him, his breaths already turning tight with arousal...or maybe it was exhaustion... A second later, something wistful passed through his gaze, tongue peeking out to lick his dry lips before-

He took a step back, Lance's fingers only brushing against the paper, and coldness seeping into his skin with his lover's absence. "I need to get this right."

There was such an edge in Lotor's tone that Lance could only swallow down his objection, concern churning inside him. "Lotor..." he murmured, reaching for him and planting a kiss over his lips.

A sigh tickled his lips, breaths mingling and the moment staying almost suspended between them. Then eyes linked with intent, Lotor raised a hand to run through Lance's hair, fingers settling at the back of his neck. "Lance..." he whispered, causing a lazy heat to pool at his stomach.

Another kiss shared... This time longer, heavier, needier... breathtaking and absolutely toe curling...

When they parted away, breaths still tight with need, Lance raised his eyes to look right into Lotor's, heart soaring without his permission. "You'll do great... I know you will.”

Brows rising in surprise Lotor inhaled slowly, his breath quivering for a single second. Then with a smile that looked young on him, he nuzzled against Lance's nose, forehead leaning against his lover's.

Slowly...he exhaled.

"Thank you...Lance"

Nowadays he saw it all the time, the convoluted dance of weakness and strength, chipping away and dragging down, supporting and pushing up...

It used to be intriguing.

It used to be eye opening.

Now... it is simply theirs.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I am not here for the prosperity of the universe...and I am not here for Voltron's quest of achieving peace."

Despite harsh words and commanding voice Lotor looks unsuspecting, his frame centered on the stage, and arms slightly open.

"WE are here for our families! We are here for those we couldn't protect and for those who we still want to!"

For a brief second a pained expression passes through the King's eyes.

"With all of our shortcomings and with all of our strength, the only thing that we want is to move forward!"

Lotor's gaze once again finds the queen, an expectant silence falling over the crowd.

"...And we want to move forward with you"

Silence...

Only shivering breaths and wide eyes fill the avenue...

Then –

Eyes closing, two fingers slowly rise up to touch across the queen's forehead.

The gesture of acceptance...of alliance...

One, then two, then three... Slowly the gesture spreads across the crowd, one by one fingers rising up, and a reverent hush falling over the people.

Across the stage, Naen's red sun raises high, its changing rays painting the King in pink. With a deep breath Lotor raises his fingers to his forehead and repeats the gesture.

"Thank you"

With a sigh and a smile, Lance closes his eyes, head tilted towards the sky.

Together...they will move forward.

#LancelotWeek2017 #lancelot #lance x lotor #voltron #voltron legendary defender #etc.writes #the convoluted dance #lance #lotor

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rock-hard-chaac · 7 years

Text

Burden to Bear-Smite Fanfic

I took a lot of liberties here, don’t kill me.

Word Count:2k+

Characters: Neith, Ra, Thoth, Isis,Hercules, Medusa, Athena Cu Chulainn, The Morrigan

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence.

She doesn’t like the lives she has to take.

The old woman assaulted for her jewels by a mere child decades younger than her.

The man crushed while working to provide for his family.

The child who’s soft, fragile head hit the ground too hard from being shoved by bullies.

Neith doesn’t like the lives she has to take.

Her footsteps echo as she walks to her chambers. Today…tomorrow, the next day, the next month, year, decade…something special was coming.

Something terrifying.

She stands before a pool of light, eyes downcast. She can see her reflection. She can see their reflections. Every life she brought into the world.

And every life that was extinguished by another life.

Her lip trembled, fists clenched. There was a dull pulse in her temple, the calling of death. She could hear other Deities laughing.

“If you don’t do it, I will. Do you want me to take their soul? I’ll take good care of it~”

Yomi.

The Underworld.

Hell.

She lets out an unsturdy breath, and starts to strip, layers of cloth falling to the ground as she stood before the pool. Isis, Ra, and Thoth oversaw the process. There had been more than enough times where she had tried to stop fate, to keep a weave in tact desperately, give the soul she had birthed just…a little more time to say goodbye. Or save them completely, before a stern look from Ra made her finish the deal.

She loved the lives she created. She loved the pulse of the bonds only she and other creators of life could enjoy.

So.

The fresh wave of betrayal that washed over her when a life is snuffed out by another is far more excruciating than any other severing of her weaves.

From the moment she dipped her foot into the pool, she could hear whispers, all around her. Laughter, crying, sounds of passion, sounds of heartbreak. All of it flooded her ears, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she held her hands out, a bow delicately forming in it. She took a deep breath, and listened.

With a small sigh, her eyes opened, glowing a sorrowfully beautiful blue as she drew back the string to her bow, four arrows of light appearing between her fingers before she fired all of them.

********

He was tired. 12 labors and he had finally proven himself. The triumphant smile on his face slowly fell and his eyes grew slowly, lips parted.

The world around him was on fire.

His heart sunk, and he ran, sandaled feet pounding against the pavement as he searched for his family. 12 labors and still none of it was more frightening than this very moment. One of uncertainty, were they alright? Had…had someone gotten to them?

On the horizon, he saw the palace, and something tugged him in that direction, a whisper in the wind.

Neith watched quietly from atop a burning building, eyes half lidded and numb before she jumped down.

She would see this through to the end.

“Megara! Megara!!” Hercules screamed, storming into the palace of King Creon, heart thundering as he flung the door open. His beloved lay below Lycus, eyes widened in horror as his hand raised, knife firmly in hand.

“Get away from her!” The son of Zeus snarls, storming to the man faster than he even realized he could go, knocking him off of her and starting a short-lived brawl.

Megara cried tears of joy, scooting back with her sons in her arms, whispering words of hope as she watched Hercules bring an end to Lycus. Finally, it was over. They would be able to live together once more!

Neith ran her fingers through each boy’s hair, tears rolling down her cheeks. She knelt down to kiss the top of Megara’s, hugging her from behind.

They wouldn’t feel any of it. After all, she was merely here in spirit, anyway.

Hercules muttered words of prayer to his father, and Neith could see Hera behind a column in the hall. She stared at the woman as she smiled wickedly, hands glowing.

Hercules stopped short. Neith could hear every muscle in his body tense as he looked up at his family, eyes wide. He stood, a shadow cast over his face, a snarl on his lips as he took a step towards them.

Neith stepped away, wordlessly rushing to his side, gently touching his arm. He drew his own bow from behind him, taking aim faster than Megara could react. Neith just wanted this to be over. She didn’t want to watch.

But she would see this through…until the very end.

Hercules fired his arrow, the tip cutting the air past Megara’s head and catching Deicoon right in the neck.

Neith cried out, the weave severing painfully, like ripping an organ out. The other three hovering over Megara and the remaining children, like a taunt. Neith went to touch his arm again, to influence him to take aim again when he bolted past her spiritual form, screaming like a madman as he knocked them to the floor, squeezing the life out of Creontiades.

The second weave ebbed away like a burn from acid, and Neith felt the world spinning.

“S-Stop! What are you doing-guh!” She cried, fruitlessly trying to pull him off when he stood himself, eyes zeroed in on Megara trying desperately to run away with their last son, screaming in fear.

“Hera…Don’t run from me, Hera!” He snarled like a beast, raising his club and swinging violently.

Neith fell to the floor, feeling like she herself was being beaten, eyes wide with horror as she saw the club and the marble floors grow red with blood and gore. The last two weaves severed, feeling like she was on fire all over as she saw him come to his senses, eyes widening when he realized what his madness made him do.

Neith turned and ran when his screams of anguish filled the palace.

**************

She felt her spirit return to her body, light headed and pulsing numbly with pain. She panted, looking up at Thoth, brows knitted together.

He nodded once, closing his book to signify that he had finished recording them within it.

Neith stood up, clenching her fists before she looked up. Isis smiled softly at her, her eyes sympathetic.

“You are the only hope for their spirits to find peace, Neith. Please, continue.” She urged.

Neith felt a pang in her chest and grabbed her bow again, this one shone different than the others, and it gave Neith an ill feeling in her stomach as she turned to her left, firing the lone arrow and closing her eyes as she let it take her with it.

**************

She bit her lip as she watched Poseidon manipulate the woman who would soon be her target, turning her head away when they held each other, the loud pulsing of agony that was soon to come drowning out the sounds of nearly one sided pleasure.

These Greek gods were certainly something.

She watched on for days until Athena confronted the fair skinned woman, a crease in her brow, her hand gripped firmly on her spear as she took menacing steps towards the woman.

“P-please-”

Athena grabbed her by the head, her palm large and strong enough to lift her with minimal effort. Blue eyes shone with absolute rage, and Neith saw the arrow she had fired quiver in a way she had only saw on rare occasions.

This…would be painful.

“You dare lie with a man and break your vows to me and my temple? You dare disrespect me?!” She barked, squeezing the mortal woman’s head hard. Neith felt a dull pain in her own temple, and her own brows furrowed as she tossed the woman to the floor.

“No one shall ever lie with you again. You weep with those eyes like it will draw sympathy from me. No one shall gaze upon them again.” She slammed the end of her spear to the floor, and Neith’s arrow plunged into the mortal woman’s chest at the same time Athena placed her curse, lip curling.

That’s when the agony started.

Neith shrieked, her pain matching that of Medusa’s as the mortal woman’s beautiful blonde hair began to writhe angrily, the golden locks turning into snakes dripping venom to her head and face. Her kind eyes grew bloodshot, the bones in her legs broke this way and that, the skin split and recreated itself into a tail.

And Neith felt every last moment of the transformation.

The severing of the mortal Medusa’s weave.

And the forced creation of the Gorgon Medusa’s weave.

*************

Neith fell to her knees in her pool, sweat rolling down her naked skin as she coughed violently. The gods never considered her when they forced a transformation on another being. The tears and rippings of her weaves, like needles woven into her very skin and then abruptly snatched out.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. This hadn’t been the first time Athena had transformed a mortal into another being. The Egyptian weaver was beginning to wonder if they would need to have a talk about the Wisdom and War goddess’ reckless disregard for her actions.

Isis touched the water, letting it pulse as it refreshed, the cool sensation coming back to her.

“We will speak with the Olympians about their actions. Will you be okay?” Ra inquired. His head was raised high as he looked down at her. Neith appreciated the gesture, but she pushed herself to her feet, wobbling.

“I will. I…I am fine.”

She drew another arrow and held her head up high. This one…wouldn’t be as agonizing as the others, she could feel it. At least she believed so.

With that, she fired.

*************

The honorable death of a warrior was something Neith found comfort in. She knew this man was soon to die, but the aura he exuded around him made her wish nothing more but to save him from this awful fate.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she could almost feel Ra’s gaze as he watched over her physical body.

Right.

She sighed and walked beside the warrior, a blonde man by the name of Cu Chulainn. She stood with him in the Valley of the Deaf. She had reveled in the silence with him, no matter how fleeting it was.

She walked with him as he wandered past a hag washing clothes in the river. She smiled eerily at him, lips curled up. “I am washing the armor of Cu Chulainn, who is to die today.”

The man clicked his tongue in walked on, but Neith felt that gaze pierce her very core.

She knew the first domino would fall into place when he was stopped by three hags, offering him a free meal. Her brow furrowed, and she wondered fleetingly if she could prolong his life-

One of the hags turned to her while he was preoccupied.

“You’re only allowed here to see through with what comes. Interfere, and we will kill you, too.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at the hag, seeing a younger woman in her place. She looked to Cu Chulainn, noticing he hadn’t realized the other woman had changed since he was still politely trying to turn down the other two.

“You will not interfere.” The woman repeated, and Neith clenched her fists, looking to her feet as the man took one bite of the meal and collapsed, the strength draining from the left side of his body.

She followed him wordlessly as he continued his journey, breath labored. The Morrigan laughed from behind them, the sound echoing through Neith’s bones. She watched with tears quietly rolling down her cheeks as the end came.

“Never let it be said that I am not a generous person.”

“Never let it be said that Ulster will lose its honour because of its champion.”

“Never let it be said I brought dishonour on my family.”

Neith reached for him, gently giving him some of her strength, taking him to a lake, where she could lift his hand enough to give him a drink, a hand on his cheek as she saw his face contorted in pain.

“I…will not die on the ground like some beast.” He grunted through gritted teeth, blood running down his lips.

The goddess pressed her forehead to his, breathing a few last breaths of strength and life into him, enough for him to stand, albeit weakly. She pulled him along, guiding his feet to a rock, pushing his back to it so he would stay upright. He weakly tied himself to it, sword in hand as he glared through Neith at his enemies far behind her, watching him warily.

A lone raven flapped his wings, approaching him and tripping over his spilled insides, and Cu Chulainn found humor in the creature, a small smile coming to his lips. Neith watched on quietly, startling when his unfocused eyes turned up to hers. He could see her…?

How…?

“T-thank you, lass…heh…”

She choked on her own sob, the quiet laugh dying in his chest as his weave severed, the light fading from his eyes.

********

“Neith! Come back to your senses!”

Neith startled at the slap Isis laid to her cheek, curling up in the pool, guilt filling her heart. That….that sensation with the warrior was certainly…new.

“You had us worried. Do you wish to rest?” Isis inquired kindly, cupping her cheeks with warm hands. Neith was shuddering, pain throbbing in her chest. Ra and Thoth exchanged a look before the former spoke.

“Perhaps that is for the best-”

She heard a particular cry in the pool, and her blood ran cold.

“O-one more.”

Isis frowned and gave her head a pet. “Please, I do not wish for you to strain yourself. We wish to have as many souls peacefully depart. However, sometimes we must let the other collectors take them. It cannot be helped.”

Neith clutched Isis’ wrist, pulling it off of her head, eyes downcast.

“No…this one…has to be me.” She whispered.

Isis’ brow furrowed, and she looked to Thoth and Ra. Both of them exchanged a look, apparently they knew more than her, if the quiet nod they gave to one another was anything to go by.

“We trust you to it, Neith.”

Isis sighed and stood, moving away from the pool and taking her place once more.

Neith rose to her feet, water running down her bare body as the tears ran down her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She whispered, turning her arrow towards Isis and firing.

It grazed her cheek before disappearing.

Isis’ eyes widened, touching her bloody cheek as she looked at Neith, who crawled out of the pool, sobbing.

“W-What is this?”

“….He…he’s…”

Isis let out a choked noise as she turned and bolted from the chambers, screaming for her husband.

Thoth sighed and wrapped Neith up in fresh robes, holding her as she wept, his head atop hers.

Neith didn’t like the lives she had to end.

But she’d sever as many weaves as she could to keep her precious souls from suffering in the afterlife. She would suffer for them.

And that was her burden to bear.

#scarlet writes #smite fanfiction #smite game #mythology #egyptian mythology #greek mythology #celtic mythology

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bleusarcelle · 7 years

Text

Rise and Shine

*looooooooooooong suffering sigh*

Just take this and ...yeah.

Ps. This is like the Part 3 of my Fic Through out my Fault that it’s on Ao3 (Bleusarcelle) which the first two chaps are based on @kaxpha ‘s animatics but this third part is not based on an animatic, we just like, went wild with other possible scenarios and I was like, MIGHT AS WELL PUT IT THERE.

Mention of LANCELOT.......I mean, if you wanted to know? Bc that’s how all of this started. Bc of kax’s animatics of Lotor being cray cray about Lance and yeah.

And here I am. So, whenever you wanna read the first two chaps or just read this one, it’s the same, like??? You get to enjoy it all the same.

Alright, I’m done. I tried my best and I’m sweating bc I have no air conditioner and my fan doesn’t work right. Ok bye.

Ps2. I DID MY BEST WITH THE EDITING SO EX CU S E MUA AND PAR D ON ME for any mistakes.

Warning: Mentions of blood and yucky moments of gross body things like you know, stabbing and stuff????

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me.

... *THROWS FIC AT YOUR FACE* ENJOY! :D

Thump.

No use.

Thump thump.

No use.

Thump thump thump.

It’s no use.

“Allura!” Lance shouts, desperate and scared as he keeps on pounding his fists against the force field, “Allura, please! Hurry!”

The Princess of Altea grunts from her side of the fore field, her hands pressed against the glowing yellow wall that blocks their way, sweat dripping from her forehead as her magic flow from her fingertips. “I’m trying, Lance!”

Lance knows she is. Just as he knows that she’s exhausted because the fore field Haggar trapped them in was divided in three sections, leaving Hunk and Allura on one section, Shiro and Pidge on the one next to theirs and Lance alone in his own prison.

Keith’s the only one who is not trapped.

Allura has already broken down the wall between her section and Shiro and Pidge’s. Her magic is new, it’s not developed and while it's strong it’s not enough to dissolve the three walls all at once. She needs to do it by sections, from the weaker one to the strongest.

The wall that separates Lance from Keith is the strongest one and Allura is not even close to done with taking down the one that separates Lance from the Team.

They had been so careful. Keith and Lance had been so sure Lotor had been defeated after Lance shot him and they escaped. They were only able to enjoy ten minutes in comfortable silence, enjoying the other’s company and warmth as they held each other before Red got attacked and pulled towards the Galra ship.

After that, everything happened so fast. Keith was already beaten up from the earlier fight. The Team arrived and got ambushed. Haggar snapped her fingers and Lotor was healed and stronger than before.

Another snap of fingers and the fore field appeared.

Lance doesn't know how long it has been since this started.

“Just hurry, please! Keith –! I don’t – He –!” He groans in frustration, punching the fore field once again as his blue eyes follow the two figures on the other side of it, slashing at each other merciless, “Allura, he won’t last much longer, please.”

Lance watches because that’s all he can do. He watches as Lotor smirks and punches Keith on the face for the twentieth time. He watches as Keith’s feet wobble weakly and almost trips, shoulders drooping tiredly, a thin blood line falling from the corner of his mouth, his right arm bleeding deeply and yet –

“I won’t let you take Lance.” Keith whispers, determination and promise dripping from his voice and Lance’s heart takes a trip to his stomach when Lotor’s golden eyes just intensify their glowing dangerously and the Galra Prince pounces at the Paladin.

Lance can only watch as Keith barely dodges the Prince’s attacks and tries to block every hit. He can only watch helplessly as Keith’s bayard is suddenly knocked out of his hand and he’s on the floor shaking and panting heavily.

“Keith!” Lance shouts, his hands still pounding against the fore field, trying to break it, or maybe to catch his boyfriend’s attention, he doesn’t know anymore, “Lotor, just stop! Stop, please! Keith! Keith, listen to me! Goddamnit – LISTEN TO ME!”

He doesn’t. Keith doesn’t listen because he knows what Lance has to say: ‘Stop.’, ‘Let me go with him.’, ‘If it means you will be okay and safe, let me go with him.’, ‘Let me go, let me go, let me go.’

“Never.” Keith mumbles, panting hard and spitting some blood on the floor, “I will not let you, Lance.”

He doesn't look his way. Keith’s dark blue eyes are firmly placed on Lotor as the Galra Prince walks slowly and threatening towards him.

“Keith, please.” Lance whimpers, dropping his entire weight against the fore field, stray tears falling as Keith stands up slowly from the floor, “Please.”

“I told you, Blue Gem.” Lotor laughs, throwing his sword once again at Keith, “I told you I would be back. I told you I would destroy everything you love.”

Keith yelps in pain when Lotor’s sword graces him on the shoulder and the Prince just smirks happily. “I told you that your precious Red Paladin would be the first.”

“Please.” Lance whispers, “Please, stop.”

“I told you that you would regret it. I warned you, Blue Gem, what would happen if you crossed me.” Another throw, another stab, another yell of pain. “I gave you my everything. I gave you my love, my trust. For what? For you to run off with this filthy half-breed? This puny weakling that’s not even an entire race of something?”

Lotor frown deepens as he lowers his sword and stares darkly at the beaten Paladin in front of him. “If he is the only obstacle for me to win you over –”

Sword raise, eyes steady, breathing held.

Dark blue eyes turn and meet a familiar pair of baby blue ones.

A small loving bloody smile gets a desperate shake of head and a silent cry.

“So be it.”

Metal meets flesh.

Blood drips and stains the white floor.

Keith chokes.

Lance screams.

Lotor smiles.

Time freezes.

“No.” Lance breaths out, his baby blue eyes wide horrified at the scene in front of him, “No, no, no, no.”

“Yes.” Lotor whispers, smiling satisfied and pleased as he push his sword deeper against the Red Paladin's stomach, earning a choked up gag noise that only make him smile wider, “Yes.”

The sword leaves the flesh, the sound it makes impregnating itself on Lance’s memory for the rest of his life and then –

“L-Lance.”

Time unfreezes.

Lance blinks. He blinks and prays for anything that may be out there that this is only a nightmare, that this is only an illusion and that it’s not really Keith there standing in the middle of the room with a gaping bleeding hole on his stomach.

His hopes and breathing leave him as soon as Keith falls lifelessly against the floor and Lotor walks away without a second glance.

“I will be in contact, Blue Gem.” Lotor says calmly, sighing as if disappointed, “Enjoy the Red’s last moments as you wish.”

Lance doesn’t knowledges him. He doesn’t even spare him a glance as Lotor exits the room and leaves them behind in the eerie silence. He doesn’t knowledges when one of the fore field’s walls disappears and the team is suddenly behind him.

His eyes are on the limp unmoving form of Keith a few feet from him and the last wall that separates them.

“A-Allura.” Lance calls, his voice so broken and small that it makes Allura take in a sharp breath, “Allura, p-p-please.”

“Lance.” Hunk whispers gently as he takes a careful step towards the brunet, “Lance!” He gasps and reaches out to his friend when Lance’s knees give up on him and he slides down all the way down until he’s on the floor.

“Please.” The brunet sobs and blinks to get the tears away so his vision is clear as he stares at Keith’s unmoving figure, “Just –Just –Mi amor –” He calls softly, slamming weakly the palm of his hand against the wall, “Keith, mi amor –”

Lance just keeps mumbling. He keeps calling Keith’s name in every way he knows. By his name, by his nicknames, by every pet name they always blush at and whisper in each other’s ears late at night when everyone’s sleeping and it’s only them in the entire universe.

He calls and calls but gets no answer.

The wall disappears, leaving them in surprise and silence before Lance’s throwing himself forward, standing up wobbly and falling besides Keith’s form.

His hands shake, hovering over Keith’s back before he gulps and turns the black haired man around, making him face him and Lance takes a double take when he sees Keith’s face.

He’s sleeping.

“He –He’s sleeping, guys.” Lance murmurs, his mouth twitching upward as he gathers Keith in his arms and cups his face with his free hand, “He’s –He’s okay, he’s just sleeping. Right, amor?”

No answer.

“La-Lance.” Pidge sniffles behind him but Lance hunches himself over the body of his boyfriend as if protecting him.

“He’s –He’s sleeping, okay? Nothing to worry about. We –We just need to w-wake him up.”

“Buddy, Lance –“ The brunet shakes his head, the lump on his throat growing when he hears the crack in his leader’s voice.

“Keith, b-b-baby, I need y-you to w-wake up, ok-okay?” Lance chuckles wetly, dropping his face against Keith’s, his thumb caressing the pale grayish skin, “Come on, c-come on. Rise and shine. Y-You know the drill.”

Lance bites his lower lip hard and suppresses the sob. “R-Rise and s-shine.”

Keith’s eyes are closed. His arms hang limp against the floor, his hair is tangled and dirty, his Paladin’s armor is bloody, his skin is cold at the touch and yet clammy.

“Rise a-and sh-shine.”

He prays and prays but gets no miracle.

“Asteraki…” Allura whispers sadly and broken and suddenly it’s enough.

“No.” Lance sobs hard, his entire body shaking as he sobs against Keith’s face, letting his tears fall on his boyfriend’s peaceful face, “No, no, no. Please, no, please, please, please.”

He cries and cries but gets no heartbeat.

“K-Keith, mi amor, please.” Lance whimpers, choking on his own tears has he pats Keith’s cheek softly and winces when Keith’s head flops to the side lifelessly. “Please.”

He places his shaky hand over Keith’s neck, holds his breath and waits.

Waits.

He gets nothing.

Everything around him turns silent. Everything disappears and vanishes as if nothing has ever existed before.

And then he’s screaming.

He screams and screams as he trashes someone’s hold and wails when the weight of Keith is no longer in his arms.

He screams and tunes out everything. Hunk’s comfort noises, Pidge’s hands on his face wiping away his tears and Allura’s soothing humming.

There’s nothing else, just his own screams inside his mind and the ones on the outside. There’s nothing else except screams for him.

Then it stops and hears a soft tiny gasp.

Another gasp followed by a sharp intake of breath and then –

Dark blue eyes are staring straight into his.

That’s enough for Lance to pass out.

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