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liddolwhynot2000 · 3 years

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Signal

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Summary: And Petra had to watch as you cemented your place in the heart of the man she could only dream about.

Pairings: One Sided! Petra/Levi, Levi/Reader

Genre: Angst, one sided love

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Soldiers in the Survey Corps had an extremely low life expectancy, so no one ever bothered to make long term plans for themselves. Petra was the same--except a part of her traitorously dreamed of a life that wasn't meant to be.

For she doubted she'd live long enough to see it become her reality.

She imagined that someday, they would end the titans. They would walk outside the walls, breathe in its fresh air and be celebrated as heroes. A far fetched dream, but one she couldn't get out of her head.

After joining the Special operations Squad, she had begun to hope even more. Captain Levi and his stregnth had made her imagine a future for all of them. His calm and composed demeanour, no matter how awful the situation, inspired her to work harder and do better.

But what began to affect her most was the man himself. The way he sometimes smiled a little into his teacup. How cleaning gave him joy. How collecting tea leaves was a hobby he hid from everyone. Little by little, she learned these things about him, and they only made her heart beat faster.

Slowly, her dreams began to involve the Captain. Once titans were gone, she would confess to him. She had never seen him around any other woman, knew for a fact that he wasn't in any relationships, so her mind conjured up a world where he would accept her feelings. He would allow her to give him all her love and attention--and he would fall for her right back.

The two them would get married someday--and maybe even have children. Her father already liked him- having heard more then enough good things about him in her letters home. She could see a nice life with him in her future.

She knew better then to confess right now. Titans were very much alive and kicking outside the walls, but she figured it was only a matter of time they got together. She was the only woman who knew how to make his tea, the one he consulted on what suit to wear and one of the few people who could approach him when he was in a bad mood. He never said anything, but Petra thought her feelings were clear enough. While he never made a move towards her, the fact that he never outright rejected her gave her more then enough hope. So she decided to just wait it out and observe for any signals on his part. To hint that he was ready for more.

The day they set out outside of Wall Maria, and found out that they had in fact gotten rid of all titans, Petra began to dream even more. Her desired reality was so close--just one signal and she would be on her way to the life she wanted.

She waited, hoping for the signal. Maybe Captain looking at her a little too long when she was dressed up, or asking her to stay back more, in order to spend more time together. Days went by, and she saw nothing.

Until one random day.

They had been out in town, having some free time. She had watched Captiam go into a jewellery store, and had felt her hopes rise. Just before leaving, he had asked her

'You- I mean, women like jewelery right? Earrings or some shit?'

Years of remaining composed in front of him had been the only reason she hadn't balantly blushed.

'Yes Captain. Bracelets and rings are nice too.'

He had hmphed and gone off to the jewellery store, coming out of it with a box in his hand. Petra had felt like her heart had leapt out of her chest at the sight of it. Could it be-would he really jump straight to-

Suffice to say, she had trouble sleeping that night.

The next day, she saw that box again--and it's contents. It had only been briefly, but she had seen the small sized golden hoops. Her heart had plummeted at it not being a ring- but it was still expensive jewellery. One that someone only bought for a special occasion.

So, with her heart giddy and nerves aflame, she waited. Petra went out of her way to give him ample opportunities to give it to her--staying up late to help him with paperwork, chatting more then usual while bringing his tea. The signal was almost there. She could see it.

And she did see it.

Except it wasn't for her.

His eyes did glint- with softness and possessiveness--but not for Petra.

He did start spending more time with someone, but not with Petra.

It was you. The newly hired cook for the Garrison Engineers.

How did she know it was you?

She had seen you wearing those earrings. Late at night. While stumbling out of the Captain's office, with your hair and clothes ruffled up.

By all means, you were a nobody. An ant in the grand scheme of things. But, you had ended up being the most important person in the world of Humanity's Strongest Soldier.

And Petra had to watch as you cemented your place in the heart of the man she could only dream about.

She tried to pretend it wasn't happening--but it was. Captain Levi was doing everything she had ever wanted him to, but none of it was for her.

He would smile softly at you when he thought no one was looking. Go into jewellery stores and buy expensive jewellery for you. Even on missions off the island- he would go into stores to buy you gifts. She had seen you wear them. His lunch breaks were almost always with you and if one arrived at the right time- they would see you setting out to work from his room each morning.

She resented it all- a part of her hoping it would all fall apart. That it wouldn't work. But she squashed those thoughts down and carried her broke heart as she worked.

It would work for a few years--even though they had been incredibly painful for her, having to watch the man she was desperately in love with be so close--yet so far.

None of her resentment had affected his life--he had gone on to become a family man. Getting married, having children, buying a house.

She had thought that one day he would signal her, and they would do all those things together. Who would have thought that she had been thinking of walking on a road with someone, who clearly never meant to take her along?

And who would have thought she'd try to join him on that road- walk alongside him- against his will?

Not Petra. Or at least, not the old Petra.

When Premier Zackley called her into his office and made her that ludicrous offer, to marry the Captain. To bear his children, in order to ensure the Ackerman strength would accompany the military in the future, the words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.

'Yes. I'll do it.'

Some people had to be okay with others tagging along in their walks, even if they didn't want them to. Her head knew better, but her heart, desperate for the man that had it in its hold, said that maybe the Captain would be too.

She was proven wrong the very next day--because Humanity's Strongest Soldier had quit the military. For you.

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A/N: I wrote this randomly because I- have too much time on my hands apparently. I don't actually but I'm lazy and- okay back to the note let's not expose me today.

So, this is set in the 'Falling' Universe. Its a sequel to it. I made it so, you can understand this as a stand alone. But if you want to read this in order then:

(1) Falling

(2) Signal

(3) For you

I wish I knew how to link these 😭😭. If anyone knows how, please DM.

I know I was supposed to write a confession chapter--and I have it drafted. But I need some more time, so here's some angst to hold y'all over!I hope you enjoyed! My asks are open-so request away. Till next time!

#AOT #Snk #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #Levi x reader #One Sided Love #Angst #Petra/Levi #shingeki no kyojin

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songtoyou · 3 years

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Tempting Fate - Part Two

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major, but there is lots of smoking.

Word Count: 2,080

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

Chapter Summary: As you continue to live in Small Heath, you develop a strong camaraderie amongst its residents. The only one who continues to give you the cold shoulder is Mr. Tommy Shelby. Polly has a conversation with you and her nephew. She seems to know more than she may be letting on about the connection you and Tommy may have.

A/N: For this story, Esme uses her maiden name and married name, so she goes by Esme Lee-Shelby. This story takes place during season two of the show. May Carleton is mentioned in this chapter and might be making an appearance in later chapters. I like May; she has never bothered me, and I like her “relationship” with Tommy. I did include a Romani phrase in this chapter, which translates to, “Go with God and in good health.” I found the phrase online and hope it is correct. If it isn’t, then I am profoundly sorry and do not wish to offend anyone. That is never my intent. Remember, there is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars

You settled into Small Heath nicely, even making some friends along the way. Esme Lee-Shelby was one of those friends. When the two of you met, there was an instant connection. Both reminded the other of home, which helped with the homesickness both women tended to feel now and then. Being friends with Esme meant you were around the other Shelby’s, particularly at the family’s company headquarters. You most hung around the betting shop when it was not too busy and when Tommy was not around. You were not naïve to see that the man was not too fond of you for some reason.

Arthur and John would tell you not to pay too much mind to Tommy and explain that he was under a lot of stress.

“Tommy means well, love. He will come around eventually,” John reassured you one day while visiting Esme.

“It is because he likes you, and that probably scares him,” Esme would say, but you merely scoffed at the idea.

“I can admit that Tommy is cute, but he is not my type. He is too frigid. The guy is always so serious. Plus, I can tell he cannot stand the sight of me,” you replied, but Esme waved off your concerns.

“Trust me, Tommy will eventually come around to the point where he will seek out your presence because he will crave it. I have a feeling about it, and I’m never wrong,�� assured Esme.

On another day at the betting shop, you stopped by; however, no one was around except for Aunt Polly. At first, the woman intimidated the hell out of you but soon saw the wonderfulness she possessed. She did not take shit from anyone, particularly the men who stopped by the betting shop. She kept everyone in line, including her nephews. You saw how Tommy would confide in Polly on specific business matters whenever the two murmured amongst each other.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, looking around the empty betting shop.

“Slow day,” Polly said, taking a sip of tea and reading a book with her feet up on one of the desks. “John and Esme are currently preoccupied with activities involving the expansion of their family if you know what I mean.”

“Well, that is…wonderful,” you stated sarcastically. “Will you tell Esme I stopped by and that I will see her tonight at The Garrison?”

Before you could leave, Polly called out to you to stay for a little while.

“Come sit with me, let’s talk,” Polly commanded and pointed to a seat for you to take.

You followed her orders and took a seat across from the older woman. She passed you one of her black cigarettes, and you happily accepted. The nicotine of the black cigarette had a pleasant taste to it, you noted.

“So, Tommy informs me that you are part of the Young clan in Cambridgeshire. I’ve met the Youngs; they are good people. Very dependable when one needs help. However, my nephew also shared that you aren’t a Young by blood, is that right?” Polly questioned the other woman.

“That is correct. My mother and father found me when I was a baby, so I am very much a Young,” you replied earnestly.

“Oh, that I can see. Especially in how you have taken it upon yourself to help out most of the Small Heath residents. From menial tasks such as making sure Ms. Wallace gets her weekly groceries, to assisting Old Man Pete and his family in finding their lost dog, and even going so far as to help out at the Yard with Charlie and Curly.”

“I only help with horses. I don’t do any of the moving of equipment or anything if that is what you or Tommy are worried about,” you reassured Polly.

“I wasn’t worried, but of course, Tommy was. You put him on edge,” said Polly with a smirk.

You took another drag of the cigarette, “That is not my fault that your nephew has his qualms about my mere presence in this place. All I am doing is trying to make a living, like everyone else. He has no reasons to doubt my intentions. I am not here to bewitch anyone or partake in any criminal activity that would undermine the Peaky Blinders. I may not have a proper education, but I am not stupid. I don’t have a death wish.”

“No, you don’t have a death wish. You have good intentions that Tommy will see that eventually. He always comes around. Someday, he will come to you because he will need your help,” shared Polly. “I can see things, my dear. I have the gift. I know why you are here. You are looking for your soulmate. Is that correct?”

You let out a sigh, “It is one of the reasons why I am here, yes. I only want to know who this man is; I don’t expect to fall for him. The idea of soulmates doesn’t ring true for me. It is a fabled concept.”

Polly let out a laugh, “Do not be so pessimistic, my girl. You have already met him, but I will let you figure out who it is; that is the fun part.”

As you were about to ask Polly for clarification on what she was talking about, in walked Tommy and stopped when he saw the two of you sitting together.

“Speaking of the devil, here he is, the man of the hour,” teased Polly, at least that is what you thought she was doing. She gave you a wink and put out her cigarette.

“Miss Young,” Tommy stiffly greeted you.

“Mr. Shelby, nice to see you.” While you may tend to put Tommy on edge, he did the same to you, but you were determined to make friends with the man.

When Tommy didn’t reply to your polite phrase, you knew it was your time to leave the premises. “Thank you for the cigarette and the chat, Polly.”

“Any time, dear,” Polly smiled and waved as you exited the betting shop. She saw that you did not say goodbye to Tommy, which she could not blame you.

While Tommy took off his cap and coat, Polly got up from the table and lightly smacked the back of the head. The move completely caught Tommy by surprise as he turned to face his aunt.

“What the hell, Pol!” yelled Tommy, perplexed.

Polly merely shook her head. “Do not have any manners, Thomas?”

“What are you on about?”

With a shake of her head, Polly grabbed her teacup and took a sip. The tea was long since cold. “She is a nice girl, Tommy. Why can’t you see that when everyone else can? What is it about his girl that has you so afraid?”

Lighting his cigarette, Tommy let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Everywhere he turned, he saw you. Not only at The Garrison, Uncle Charlie’s Yard, or the streets of Small Heath, he saw you in his dreams. The dreams where you were present brought him peace. He felt protected, which unnerved him since he was not used to the feeling of being safe, not after France.

“She’s me, Pol,” answered Tommy.

“What do you mean she is you, Tom?”

“Before the war. She was exactly how I was before everything changed,” Tommy replied honestly.

“Well, that should be viewed as a good thing. You two match. Why so cold towards this girl?” Polly asked again.

Tommy turned towards his aunt to bluntly say, “Because if I get close to her, then I will ruin her. I don’t think I could live with myself with that thought. I’m damaged goods, Pol. Nothing can save me. No one can save me.”

“Tommy, that is not true,” remarked Polly. “I still see the good in you.”

Tommy got up and headed towards his office, “Then you are wasting your time.”

Later that night at The Garrison, you were filling up drinks and talking to your regular patrons.

Noting was too out of the ordinary, except for the absence of the Shelby brothers. Typically, they would make an appearance, but not tonight.

“Harry, since it is rather slow tonight, do you mind if I head out early?” you asked.

“Sure, no problem, but do you mind coming in early?” Harry asked, which you agreed to do.

You waved goodbye to Harry and left the premises. You bundled your coat higher to offset the cold air and walked towards Charlie’s Yard. Curly mentioned they were getting a new horse for the races, and you wanted to see it. You loved horses, always have since you were a kid.

As you walked down the street, you saw the Shelby brothers exiting the betting shop.

Arthur called out your name, and you turned around to greet him. He asked where you were headed to and answered the Yard. When all three gave you a look, you told them that you wanted to see the new horse Curly kept boasting on about and, therefore, needed to see for yourself.

“I have to see for myself,” you commented.

Before John and Arthur were about to wave goodbye, Tommy spoke up, “I’ll walk you.”

His announcement took his brothers and you by surprise. “Come again?” you asked. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly.

“I said I’d walk you to Charlie’s.”

Before you could as Tommy ‘why’ he told his brothers, he would see them later and motioned for you to follow him. The walk to the Yard was quiet, with neither knowing if they should saying anything. Both opted that awkward quietness was probably the best outcome.

You bit the bullet as the quietness was beginning to drive you mad and spoke up. “Where did you find this horse? Curly mentioned you were going to train him for the races.”

“I got him at an auction, and I won’t be training him. I enlisted someone else to do the training to get him the horse ready for Epsom,” explained Tommy, lighting a cigarette. He offered you one as well, but you declined.

Finally arriving at the Yard, you continued to follow Tommy towards where the horse was residing. When you caught sight of the dapple-gray horse, you immediately picked up your speed to get a better look.

“He is beautiful, Curly,” you professed while rubbing your hand across its muzzle. The horse responded positively to you as it licked your hand. “Does he have a name?”

“No name, as of yet,” it was Tommy who spoke up to answer you. While you continued to pet the horse, Tommy quietly stood next to you. He reached over and began stroking the horse’s mane.

“May Carleton is expecting us to bring the horse for her to train in the coming days ahead, we need to get him ready for transport, Charlie,” declared Tommy while continuing to pet the horse. He then walked over to his uncle as the two men began to talk about how to transport the horse.

“It is a shame this horse has to leave,” you said to Curly, who quickly agreed.

When Charlie called Curly over to him, it left you alone with the horse. As you continued to pet the horse’s muzzle, slowly and softly, you placed your head against his, with no objection. The horse remained calm in your presence.

“Zhan le Devlesa tai sastimasa,” you whispered to the horse.

“Go with God and in good health,” translated Tommy as he stood next to the horse once again. “He’ll be fine, Ms. Young. This horse is going to be taken care of; I will make sure of that, I promise.”

You looked over at Tommy and smiled at him, “Oh, I know, Mr. Shelby. Pyramus knows you will make sure he is in good hands.”

“Pyramus?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s his name. Pyramus. It is a mythological name meaning ‘fire.’ It fits him perfectly, don’t you think?”

At that moment, Tommy was taken back by your attentiveness of his horse. He was impressed by how you showed so much care for the creature. He saw how your smile brightened your face and appeared to stir something inside of himself. Something he thought was long gone, his heart.

“Yes, it is. Perfect,” Tommy expressed, but he was no longer talking about the horse.

It was at that moment, where Tommy knew he wanted you.

#tommy shleby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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corvus--rex · 3 years

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Next in this bizarre collection of abandoned, semi-abandoned, and deeply sleeping wips is one that has more direct time travel. It's more in the deeply sleeping category as I'm still picking at it. It's also another Omegaverse, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it. Also, both Lance and Keith practice polytheistic religions that have been altered to fit an ABO setting

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A few years after the war, the Paladins made the newly rebuilt Castle of Lions their home. Shiro and Adam retired from the Garrison and into diplomatic careers for the Coalition. Pidge’s parents were still with the organization, but she and Matt preferred to be more hands-on, maintaining the places on the castle and with the now-former rebellion. The still close-knit team were still recovering from the recent bonding ceremony for Hunk and Shay, who were also staying aboard the castle, although it was still uncertain as to whether or not human and Balmeran genetics were compatible; they were just waiting on genetic compatibility testing. Lance and Keith, however, were ahead of the game. They had gotten engaged while on the way back to Earth, announcing it to Lance’s family on their return. Not wanting to wait, and with no way of knowing what would happen in their war with Honerva, they’d held a small bonding ceremony the night before leaving Earth for the second time.

Keith had it the worst when it came to post-Hunk/Shay bonding recovery. He wasn’t going to miss Hunk and Shay’s bonding for anything, even if it meant dealing with Lance’s fussing. It had gotten bad enough during the reception that both Krolia and Lance’s mother Mariana told him to sit down and let his pregnant mate be. Keith could understand where Lance’s caution came from. While their little one was only one quarter Galra, and developing as a human child would, Keith’s half-Galra physiology had other ideas, his body and hormones changing like a shorter Galra pregnancy. It meant that he needed to be monitored more closely than he would if the pup’s development and his body’s lined up. It also meant that they didn’t have a concrete due date, and that it was entirely possible he could deliver a premature pup. But at sixteen weeks Earth time, there were still another two months until they needed to watch for their little one’s arrival. They had stayed behind on Earth an extra couple days after Hunk and Shay’s bonding ceremony for some of Lance’s extended family who wanted to see them both before the pup was born. Keith was exhausted from the three days of parties surrounding the ceremony and the event itself, but they were headed back to the castle after that and wouldn’t be back for another eight months, and by then the pup would be at least two months old.

Nadia and Sylvio were excited about their cousin, and had to be reminded that Keith was tired from everything going on. Right then, they wanted to see the inside of the Altean pod the matepair were taking back to the castle. Keith and Mariana burst out laughing when Lance appeared with his niece and nephew each tucked under an arm.

He “dropped” the giggling, squirming pups in front of his oldest brother. “I think you lost something.”

“Who, me? I haven’t lost anything,” Luis said, feigning ignorance.

Still laughing, Nadia and Sylvio began scaling their mountain of a father. Once they got to hip height, he grabbed them both the same way Lance had been carrying them and took off running while mock screaming, making his pups shriek with laughter. Lance just laughed to himself and shook his head at his brother and niblings.

“Like you can talk. You know damn well you're going to be just the same with ours,” Keith called.

“Yeah, probably,” Lance admitted, walking over.

“‘Probably’ nothing, mijo. I know you will,” Mariana said, “Just don’t forget to call when that little one arrives. We’ll be praying for a safe delivery.”

Lance’s parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles all practiced Santeria, and while Lance and his siblings had been raised in it and still believed, none of them actively practiced. His lack of participation didn’t lessen his appreciation of his mother’s intentions. He would have been worried when it came to telling Keith about his family’s practices if he didn’t already know about his Omega’s neo-paganism. Keith, likewise, had been relieved when Lance didn’t immediately declare him insane and instead explained about his own family.

“Thanks, Mami. So will we,” he said, hugging his mother.

“Doesn’t matter where you are in the universe, the Orisha will hear you,” she told him, then pulled Keith in, “And so will your gods, mijo.”

“I know. Thanks, Mami,” Keith answered.

The pod’s comms chirped, and Lance disentangled himself from his mate and his mother, disappearing into the small craft. Mariana wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist and he leaned into it, fully appreciating her maternal warmth. She was one of a very small number of people who had open permission to touch him. She understood that, especially after Lance had explained about Keith’s childhood in the foster care system and that he was largely touch-averse unless you were one of a select few who had earned his complete trust. She’d earned it through being the woman she was and treating Keith like one of her own children.

She reached over, resting a hand on his growing belly. “I pray for this pup every day. You two are going to be wonderful parents. And I know that you both will be safe up there – you and this little one.”

Keith breathed a laugh. “Altean technology makes humans look like we’re still playing with sticks and rocks. I mean, on an interstellar level, we kinda are. I’ve been thinking about that lately,” he admitted, “The ‘we’ part. I’m still half-Galra. Most of the time I feel like the only places on Earth I feel like I belong are out at my Dad’s place, and here.”

“Oh, mijo. It doesn’t at all matter that your wonderful mother isn’t human, or that you share her blood. What matters is what you do with it. And both of you used your heritage to do the right thing. And now she’s leading her – your – people to a new way of thinking. You both have done so much good. Never forget that. Or that you’re family. You’ll always belong here. And not just because you're carrying my grandpup.”

“We weren’t exactly planning on this.”

Mariana laughed. “Neither was I. For any of them. None of my five children were planned. We always wanted pups, but we decided to let it happen however it was going to happen. And we were blessed with five beautiful pups.” She nudged him gently. “Tell me, do you have any thoughts on what your pup might be? I knew for all of them, even when my mother was trying to tell me that I was wrong. Especially with Lance. She was convinced he was an Omega. And then he was born all Alpha.”

Keith nodded, understanding. “Yeah, that’s apparently not just a human thing. Mom said she knew I was an Omega before I was born. I think this one is too. I’m pretty sure it’s an Omega boy. Little brat keeps moving and won’t let us see, so we don’t know for certain yet, but I feel like it’s an Omega boy.”

“Oh, Veronica was the same. We didn’t know until she was an Alpha girl until she was born. And she’s still stubborn and independent.”

{What do you think, sweetheart? You an Omega boy?} she asked the unborn pup.

Her question was answered with a sharp kick.

“Is he always like that?” Mariana asked in surprise.

“Yes. Yes he is. I’ve been feeling him moving for almost two months, but it got more intense about three weeks ago. That, apparently, is a Galra thing.”

“What’s a Galra thing?” Lance asked, walking down the loading ramp.

“How hard the pup kicks,” Keith said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “It really is that bad. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night before because of it.”

“Now imagine how I feel! Anyway, what was the comm call?”

“Oh, right. Just Allura asking when we were planning on going back up. I told her we were finishing getting the pod packed up and we’d be leaving within the hour. Varga. Whatever.”

Mariana hugged them both again. “Don’t forget. I want to know.”

Keith’s lips twisted in an amused smile. “As soon as we do,” he said.

Lance didn’t ask about it until they were settled in the pod’s cockpit and on their way to the wormhole point. “What are we telling my mother when we know it?”

“Huh? Oh, the pup’s primary and secondary sexes. I said that I feel like it’s an Omega boy, but that we haven’t been able to confirm it,” Keith explained.

“Yeah, he’s being a little brat about it,” Lance agreed, “We will find out eventually,” he added, poking the unborn pup only to be rewarded with another kick. “See? Brat.” He stood up, stretching hard enough to pop his spine. He let his arms drop and extended a hand to his mate. “Come on. Allura’s not opening a wormhole until we’re way out of system, and I want snuggles.”

When they first packed the pod to leave for Earth, Lance had shifted a few things around in the passenger compartment, making room for Keith to set up a nest. He was worried about their pup and was trying to just be a good Alpha for his Omega. Keith was particularly hormonal that day and broke down in tears when he saw the cleared space, his favorite nesting materials neatly sitting in the middle of it. Lance had been afraid he’d accidentally done something wrong until he found himself with his arms full of sobbing, pregnant Omega telling him how amazing he was through hiccupped tears. The nest was built and stayed there until they landed on Earth, where it was taken down and rebuilt in Lance’s old bedroom, right on top of his queen bed. Now it held their scents mixed with Lance’s family’s. Lance also knew about the sweater Krolia had given Keith for the express purpose of fitting it into his nest.

Keith let Lance lead them through to the rear of the pod and got settled into the nest. Leaning back against his Alpha, Keith reached into his shirt and pulled out the crystal he always wore. A clear quartz point, with a triple moon carved from rainbow moonstone woven into the silver wire wrapping the top of the crystal. He ran his fingers over the moonstone, feeling its carved lines and points, the smooth gem comforting. He was safe and comfortable in his Alpha’s arms, tucked into their temporary nest, but he still worried. He knew better than anyone that their pup could come earlier than anyone was comfortable with, especially him. He sighed, letting the quartz drop.

“What’s up?” Lance murmured sleepily into Keith’s neck.

“I’m just thinking again,” he said, the pad of his thumb following the back of his fingers in a small line on his belly.

Lance knew what he was thinking, read worrying, about, and wove their fingers together. “I know. But even worst case, even if he is three months early, he’ll be ok, and so will you. There is literally no one else like you in the entire universe, and all of this is new to everyone. Best we can do is take it one day at a time.” He grabbed the tablet from outside the nest, checking the autopilot. “We still have about an hour before we get to the wormhole point. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Keith yawned, curling up in the nest, Lance wrapping his arms around his Omega. “Nap sounds great,” he mumbled, half-asleep already.

Lance didn’t last much longer, drifting off the second Keith’s breathing evened out in sleep.

They were woken by alarms blaring throughout the pod. Keith shot up, startled and growling. Lance went for the tablet, checking the readings from the pod’s sensors. They should still have been twenty minutes out from the meeting point, but the star map showed them being in an entirely different galaxy, the familiar Milky Way nowhere in sight. He leapt from the nest, running for the cockpit. When Keith had calmed a bit and hauled himself out of his spot and to the cockpit, Lance was at the controls.

“Get yourself strapped in,” the Alpha said without looking up, “We’re headed straight for an asteroid field and there’s no time to change course.”

Lance changed the controls to manual and the front shielding changed from opaque to transparent, showing the looming ancient debris in stunning real time. Keith sat himself in the co-pilot’s seat, fastening the 4-point harness over his chest just in time for the first asteroid to go whipping past. He wanted to take the controls, but he knew that his awkward current shape made it nearly impossible for him to fly with the deftness an asteroid field required. Lance had no such problem, weaving through the asteroid field with his usual liquid grace.

When they finally broke through and into empty space, they still had no real idea of where they were. Keith brought up the galactic map. He noted several familiar planets and systems, realizing that they were on the far side of the Andromeda galaxy. As he was relaying all of that to his mate, the pod’s comm chirped with an incoming hail. It was the castle, but something was different and they couldn’t quite put their finger on it. Lance answered the hail, Allura’s face filling the screen.

“Hey, Allura. Do you have any idea what the fuck just happened? We were on our way to the rendezvous point for the wormhole and now we’re here,” Lance asked.

Allura stared at them in complete shock. “I – I don’t understand. How are you two there? You can’t be there. You’re both here on the castle.”

Lance and Keith shared a confused look. “No. We’re not,” Keith said slowly, “We just left Earth a couple hours ago and were on our way to the spot you designated for the wormhole back to the castle.”

“Earth?! What the quiznak are you talking about?! Stay there. I’m going to tow your pod into the castle and we’ll talk about whatever prank this is.” The shock was in her voice at first, before it became almost angry. She looked back at them from her projected control screen, and then looked at them both more carefully. “Lance, how in the quiznak do you have Altean marks?”

“From you?” he answered, now totally confused. Had she forgotten reviving him after he took the full damage of an energy attack meant for her? Did she not remember that he’d ended up with sky blue Altean marks as a result of the sheer amount of quintessence she poured into him?

“That’s impossible. I can’t give you our markings. And Keith, have you gained weight?” She was still confused, but turned it to the Red Paladin.

“Not in the last three days,” he said, then glanced down and back to her, “Not that way, anyway.”

They felt the pod guided into the pod bay and land softly. “Stay there, inside the pod,” Allura said, “I’ll be right there.” The screen cut out, leaving them alone again.

“What in the absolute fuck is going on?” Keith asked.

“I wish I fucking knew,” Lance answered. “Does she really think this is some kind of over-elaborate prank? She can’t. She knows us. Knows we’re mated. Knows you’re pregnant.”

“Yeah, that was weird. Asking me if I've gained weight. I mean, I know I've put on about fifteen pounds, but that’s almost completely directly related to him. I haven’t really changed anywhere else.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. But at least we’re back. We can get your nest rebuilt in our suite and take a fucking nap.”

Something told Keith to leave his nest as it was, and he told Lance as much. They also decided not to get back into it while they waited for Allura. The matepair waited in the open seating, Keith nuzzling into Lance’s scent gland. It was something they’d come to realize was a side-effect of his pregnancy. He couldn’t get enough of his Alpha’s scent and would use any and every excuse to get close and scent himself, not that Lance minded it at all. It always stroked his Alpha’s ego that their Omega was so devoted to them.

They both looked up when there was a failed attempt to open the rear door of the pod, which was followed by a polite knock. “Hang on a tick,” Lance called. He extracted himself from his snuggly koala of a mate with a soft kiss to his temple and a gentle hand on their pup.

Allura stood in the doorway, possibly even more shocked than she was on the call. He was still in the faded blue t-shirt and grey sweats he’d been wearing all day, not having been bothered to change. He was expecting an off-hand comment about not being up to his usual standard at most, but she just stood there, staring like he was a new race they’d never met before.

“Allura?” he asked.

“Lance, what the quiznak is going on here? Where’s Keith?” she asked when she found the words.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. And Keith’s right here. The kids were all over him this morning and he’s still pretty tired.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Allura to be any more confused or her eyebrows to arch higher, but she was and they did.

“What kids? Why should he be tired?”

Keith listened to the questions being fired back and forth. Something wasn’t adding up. Allura knew they’d been with Lance’s family. She’d met Nadia and Sylvio before and knew what kind of energy they had. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he was worn out after dealing with them. Keyword shouldn’t. But she was. He decided to see her for himself, or more to the point, for her to see him. He slid out from the seating area, turning the corner to where she and Lance were asking questions without answering any. He stepped up beside Lance, sliding an arm around his Alpha’s waist, his free hand resting on his pregnant belly.

Allura’s jaw dropped. He knew she could tell that he wasn’t faking, and that she somehow either didn’t know or had forgotten that he was four months pregnant, even if he looked farther along because of his body’s reaction.

“I – how?! How did this happen?! When?! What is happening?!”

“Allura,” Lance said softly, “Has anything happened in the last two or three quintants?”

“What? No. Nothing. And you two are here onboard the castle. Keith, you said you would be in the training deck for at least a few vargas, and Lance, you were helping Hunk in the kitchen. How did you two end up out there and in a pod I didn’t know had gone missing? And don’t tell me you were on Earth. That’s utterly impossible. We can’t go back without leading the Galra directly there, you both know that. And how have you been hiding not only your apparent relationship but also – Keith, you're pregnant! How do you expect to be able to fly the Red Lion in your condition?”

The feeling of something being fundamentally off continued to tickle Keith’s brain. An impossible thought hit him. “Allura, I need you to answer this question honestly. How long have we been out here with you?”

“What do you mean? It’s only been about three phoebs, but we’ve made good progress in the war effort. I really believe we’ll win. But you already knew that.”

Lance cut her off before she could voice a suspicion about them being spies. He realized as soon as Keith said it. “I think we somehow managed to go back in time. We really are who we say we are, and so are you. But you obviously don’t know anything about us as we are now. I can promise that we’re not hiding anything from you.”

“Well…I don’t know that we can really say that…” Keith said, trailing off. If the them that Allura knew had only been in space for a few months, then he and Lance were already seeing each other secretly. But then they decided that keeping it from their friends made absolutely no sense, even if it meant that Pidge lost her bet with Hunk.

“Ok, fair,” he said, then turned to Allura, “What was the last major event that happened related to the war? It’ll help us narrow down when exactly we are.”

“You two seem awfully accepting of this,” she said, a note of accusation in her voice.

“We – we’ve been through a lot,” Keith said, intentionally not elaborating. They had been through a lot – alternate reality, quantum abyss, the quintessence field, Bob, finding themselves inside Honerva’s mind – but they couldn’t tell Allura any of it.

“And if we tell you anything, we don’t know if or how it could affect anything,” Lance added.

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. The last major event? Well, we’ve only just found out about your Galra heritage, but after meeting with Kolivan and Antok, I have come to realize that your blood does not define you. You both have only just returned from separate missions. Keith, you and Hunk went to retrieve the Scaultrite from the Weblum-” Keith shuddered involuntarily at the memory “-and Lance, you, Shiro, and Pidge went to rescue Slav from Beta Traz. He’s still here on the castle with us.”

“Wait wait wait – Slav’s still here?” Lance asked. He turned to Keith. “If Slav’s still on board, then he would be able to help figure out what happened. Maybe find a way to get us back to our own time. And hopefully before…” he trailed off, giving Keith a look that the Omega understood. Before the pup comes.

Allura also understood what Lance hadn’t said. “Um, how – how far along are you, exactly?” she asked awkwardly.

“That’s a little complicated,” Keith answered. “The pup’s developing like a normal human, but because I’m half Galra, my body is changing and reacting as if I were completely Galra. Pregnancies are shorter. Six Earth months, or about four and a quarter phoebs, to a normal human ten months or just over seven phoebs.”

“So, you're saying that with how your body is reacting, your pup could be premature?”

“It’s a distinct possibility. But to actually answer your question, sixteen Earth weeks. Almost eleven and a half movements. It gives us no more than five movements to figure this out and get us back to our time.”

Allura nodded, making her decision. “All right. We’ll meet in the lounge first. Paladins and Coran only. Shiro…doesn’t exactly do well with Slav.”

Lance and Keith laughed. “That’s something we will never forget,” Lance said as they followed her out of the pod. Keith turned, locking it with their biometrics. Given the alteration to Lance’s DNA thanks to Allura’s quintessence infusion, they knew that it would stay locked. Their younger selves didn’t have a chance.

They walked in silence for a while, following Allura down lesser used corridors to the lounge entrance that was never used. “Is there anything you can tell me?” she asked, “About your time. How far into our future are you?”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea, Princess,” Lance said, “You already know that we make it to Earth safely, and I don’t know how that might already be affecting our time. I understand that you want to know if it’s all worth it in the end, but I can’t tell you.”

Allura thought for a few seconds. “I understand. My knowing about the future could affect the present. It could change our decisions about things that will change the outcome of the war. And I take it that however the war does end, it’s the best possible outcome.”

“We think so. There’s a lot more going on than just Zarkon, but if you knew what, I don’t know – there are just too many variables.”

She paused in the doorway to the lounge. “I really do understand. There are more factors and facets to this war than I am currently aware of. Knowing about them now could upset the balance. Well,” she said, gesturing to the room, “Make yourselves comfortable. You already know where everything is.” Her smile was one of genuine affection for the Paladins in front of her.

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith said, maneuvering past her.

Once they were seated comfortably (“Comfort is a bit relative for me at the moment,” Keith told her with a laugh) she called for the Paladins and Coran, and them only, to come to the lounge.

Lance was the first to arrive, ready to drop onto the sunken sofa from the floor above, but stopped himself when he realized he was looking at something that looked like the back of his own head. He only knew what that looked like after a prank involving his siblings and every single mirror in the house. He saw Allura sitting at one end of the semicircle and slowed, turning to her.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Ah. We should wait for the others to arrive before we explain,” Allura said.

“Actually,” one of the unknown people said and Lance nearly choked at hearing his own voice. A little rougher and maybe older, but it was definitely his own voice. He realized the other owner of his voice was still speaking. “I think we should start now. I know we’ll have to repeat ourselves, but I know that you’re kinda nauseous right now,” a long, tan finger pointed in his direction, “And I really think this is the better solution.”

“If that’s what you –” Allura was cut off by the next arrival.

“Allura? Why are we meeting here?”

Pregnant Keith snorted at how young he sounded. His mate patted his head. “I know. We sound like babies.”

The younger Keith froze.

“Yes we’re real. No you're not hallucinating,” pregnant Keith said without moving. He knew what his younger self was thinking.

“Well, as long as we’re both here,” Lance said, “We should explain as much as we can.”

The younger Red and Blue Paladins walked around to the steps and froze again when they were suddenly face to face with themselves. Their older selves were snuggled together in the middle of the sofa horseshoe, not caring who saw them. There was too much for them to take in all at once, but they did notice Lance’s Altean marks and the undeniable fact that the older Keith was significantly pregnant.

“Yeah,” pregnant Keith agreed, “It’s a lot to unpack. We’ll tell you what we can.”

The younger Paladins sat together opposite Allura, not knowing what to say.

“As far as we can tell, we’re from your future. We don’t know how we got here. We were on our way back to the castle and decided to let the autopilot handle the flying while I had a nap and woke up to all the alarms going off about a half hour later. We realized that we weren’t where we should be and found the castle after clearing the asteroid field nearby.”

“And, I’m – or, you – I don’t even know how to phrase that,” the younger Keith stumbled through.

Older Keith just laughed. “We? Since we’re the same person, just at different ages. But yes, I’m pregnant. I'm due fairly soon, so we need to figure this out as quickly as possible.”

Both his mate and Allura noticed how he phrased himself, but said nothing, understanding why he had done it.

It was the younger Lance’s turn to stumble through a sentence. “So, you’re – and – is that –”

Older Lance snickered at his younger self. “Yes. Yes we are, and yes it is.”

“What?! But -”

“But nothing,” older Lance said, “Although that might have prevented this.”

“Yeah, sure. You try telling my heat brain that,” pregnant Keith said.

The younger Keith pointed at his older self. “That. But, how? I mean, I’ve always been so careful about taking it on time. Unless…”

Pregnant Keith shook his head. “No, that hasn’t changed. It failed. We weren’t planning on this. But it happened, and we wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Ok, so I just need to know one thing. Not about the future, not that.” His hand went to his chest almost unconsciously. “Just so I know. That you’re really me.”

Without moving from his spot snuggled into Lance’s side, Keith reached into his t-shirt and pulled the quartz and moonstone pendant out, letting it fall to his chest. “It was the first thing I ever bought for myself after Dad died. He taught me the basics of the Craft and I've kept it up ever since. Helps me feel connected to him even though it represents Omegas.”

Younger Keith nodded, holding his own crystal. “Yeah. It does.”

Looking from his not-so-secret boyfriend, the younger Lance turned to his own older self. “And he knows about…”

Older Lance cracked an amused smile. “Yeah, he does. But wait, haven’t you already told him about us?”

“Oh, well, yeah. I guess that didn’t really make sense, did it?”

“No, not really. But the last thing Mami said to me when we left her last was that it doesn’t matter where in the universe we are, the Orisha will hear us.”

“That – that’s –”

“What Mami said when I left for the Garrison. Yeah, she still says it.”

Pidge was next to arrive, and stopped when she saw the two older versions of her friends.

“No, you haven’t been up long enough to hallucinate yet,” pregnant Keith said through laughing.

“Come sit down, Pigeon. We’ll explain once everyone’s here,” Lance said, waving her forward.

They were all surprised that it hadn’t been Shiro to appear first, but he and Hunk were next, walking in together. If they thought that Pidge had been surprised, it was nothing compared to the double take from the Black and Yellow Paladins. Allura had yet to say anything once her Paladins began filtering in, and she still didn’t, letting the two older Paladins take the lead.

“Hi, Shiro,” pregnant Keith said. He still hadn’t moved from his mate’s side, enjoying the warmth and safety of his Alpha’s touch.

“What in the almighty fuck is going on?” Shiro asked, stunned.

“We’re just waiting for Coran, and then we’ll explain.”

Shiro and Hunk sat down, among the other Paladins. Hunk seemed to look for some kind of comfort from the familiarity of Pidge, and Shiro sat himself between his Lance and the older Keith with an expression told them that he was trying very hard to wrap his head around the idea of Keith being pregnant. Coran came running in a few minutes later.

“Oh, my apologies, Princess. The scanners went all wiffeley for a few ticks. They’re perfectly fine now.” He noticed the two new additions for the first time. “Erm, Princess…” he started, scratching his cheek with one gloved finger.

“Yes. It’s why I’ve called you all here,” Allura said, “When I was alone on the bridge briefly, scans picked up a single Altean pod. When I hailed it, well…”

“It was us,” the older Lance finished, “We seem to be from your future.”

Everyone stopped, if only briefly, before exploding into questions and demands. Questions about what happened, how they got here from their own time, how did the war end, what’s it like now, did everyone survive…

Lance put a hand up, silencing the onslaught. “We can’t answer most of those questions. Anything we tell you could possibly alter the timeline, and I can’t risk that.”

Pidge pouted, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Well, we already know you two end up together. And if you're here, then you guys obviously made it out.”

Pregnant Keith shifted, sitting up but not leaving his Lance’s personal bubble. “Yes, we did make it out. And yes, we know what it’s like now. But is it worth it to know about our future when it could change your own?”

For maybe the first time in her life, Pidge didn’t have an immediate answer. Her natural curiosity demanded to be sated. The older versions of two of her best friends were sitting in front of her with the answers to so many questions. So much of her own personal stress could be relieved just by knowing if she ever found Matt and Sam. She could know the outcome of the war. But thinking about those things, she realized that Keith was right. If she did know, it would change what she did, how she could react to things. The butterfly effect wasn’t real, or, if it was, it didn’t quite work that way, but a change to a major event could lead to a cascade of differences. And there was no way to know if those would be good changes or bad. But she didn’t get to answer the semi-rhetorical question because Slav walked in at that exact moment.

“So we’re in this reality,” he said, seeing the future Lance and Keith. He narrowed his eyes at them. “You haven’t told anyone anything, have you?”

“Nothing that wasn’t immediately obvious,” Keith answered, settling back against his mate.

“Ah. Right. I need to confirm things about you two before I can recalculate probabilities, but we should discuss this –” His owlish eyes narrowed again as he looked around the room. “- privately.”

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #klance #omegaverse #abo #omega keith kogane #alpha lance mcclain #mpreg #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith x lance

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actress4him · 3 years

Text

Bonus Whumptober Content Part 2

Original Whumptober fic here

Bonus Content Part 1 here

Find it all on AO3 here

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

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

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

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

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

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

My leg.

My leg, my leg.

My arm, my face, my leg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His leg was gone.

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

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

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

They did. Not him. Not anymore.

“Should’ve left me there.”

There was dead silence for a moment.

“What?”

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

“And now you’re alive.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Keith…”

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

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

He’d rather be dead than alone.

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

Oh.

Shiro must think he was so incredibly self-centered.

He was self-centered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Pidge.”

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

The nightmares came that night.

And the next. And the next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t ready.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mysteriouseggsbenedict · 3 years

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first half of “big day today” commentary

I’m doing this in two parts because there’s so much I want to make sure I remember everything and the post isn’t miles long. ANYWAY.

OKAY WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY? There are so many hilarious lines??? but it’s like insanely intense and suspenseful at the same time???

Dr. Garrison’s vegan steak or whatever kind of meat it was lmao. You could tell again she was like...just maybe sort of questioning him, or aware that what they’re doing is immoral, with her comment about how the technology could do good if put to other uses. Not enough to actually rebel though.

Martina and Kate....pain. She called Kate “Judas” which is both hilarious and so sad. WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH CURTAIN AND THOSE ACTION FIGURES??? DOES HE JUST LIKE....HAVE THOSE? DOES HE PLAY WITH THEM? I’m imagining him like,,, plotting his evil schemes and he has like a model of the institute and he acts out Mr. Benedict and the others coming in and like how he’s gonna fight them like a little kid with superhero toys lmfao

Also when he was standing in the mirror going “yes, yes, yes, yes” like he was practicing how he’d say it for maximum evil villain effect had me crying

Jackson and Jillson speaking in unison will haunt my dreams

MILLIGAN WAS A CHEMIST??? That seems like...sort of out of character because his knowledge isn’t to do with science/math is it? Unless he just like casually can also do chemistry as well as the secret agent insane athlete fighter stuff and it’s just never mentioned ahahaa

REYNIE TELLING CURTAIN JOKES. I AM WHEEZING. ON THE FLOOR. I AM UNWELL. First of all just the way that he starts talking with the hand gestures in complete seriousness like he’s a stand up comedian but they’re like dad jokes....and Curtain is like “what???” AND THEN WHEN IT ACTUALLY WORKS AND HE STARTS CRACKING UP. I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT. That was so unsettling actually to see Curtain laugh like that...it was like a glimpse of the man he could have been or some shit like he still has enough human in him to laugh at jokes

But is he lying about having “overcome” his narcolepsy?? that’s not supposed to be a thing that’s possible...unless he found duskwort already or something in this universe or he used the whisperer on himself the same way Mr. Benedict planned to try doing in prisoner’s dilemma?? I think most likely he’s lying though. I’m still clinging to the without cataplexy and triggered by anger theory. I’m really happy they introduced his narcolepsy into the plot at all though because I was afraid it just wouldn’t be mentioned at all.

Also I am exceedingly pleased that Kate and Constance came through the window like in the books

When the guy started telling Curtain it’s the “great shame of his life” that he’s not as well read and Curtain is just like oh my god I just meant there aren’t coincidences

I LOST MY MIND AT THE SCENE WITH NUMBER TWO JUST TAKING THOSE GUYS OUT– the subtitle “Number Two imitates birdcall” already had me rioting and then it just immediately cut to her decking them like YES QUEEN GET EM NUMBER TWO I LOVE YOU. Also her and Rhonda bickering was almost kind of sweet like they’re so stressed and anxious they just want to do their irritated sister banter...poor babies

I thought Miss Perumal was with them?? Guess not

Alright, time to finish the episode. This is leaving off just as Mr. Benedict looks like he’s coming into the tower.

#the mysterious benedict society #tmbs #mbs #mbs disney spoilers #big day today #AAAHHHHH #I am unwell

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mari-beau · 3 years

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GIVE ME A REASON: PART ONE -A Rogue One Fanfic

So… This is my playing with Jyn and what happened Post-Scarif in my headcanon where Cassian and Jyn survive. Sort of a companion piece to my fic ‘Partners’ (in that it takes place in the same sort of AU).

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part One

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: None? (references to scars/wounds and some hurt/comfort, angst? Half-nakedness? Jyn being a bit of an overprotective b****?)

Words: 1283

Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

There was a buzzing in Jyn Erso’s head. It cut through the blissful haze, sharp and shrill.

No.

Was her first and only thought. The buzz stopped.

Mmm, better. She turned her face into the fragrant warmth of bare male skin, and sleep settled back over her like a blanket.

Another shrill buzz tore that pleasant blanket of contentment off her with a jarring shock.

Fine.

She opened her eyes, found her companion still fast asleep -which was good, he needed it- realized the buzzing was the door chime and made her best attempt to slip out of the bed without waking him. Fortunately, his sleep over the past few days had been more akin to comatose unconsciousness, and he didn’t even stir.

Son of a Vekrak.

Jyn looked around the small military quarters but ultimately gave up. Her clothes had disappeared when she’d woken up in the infirmary, replaced with a medical tunic and pants, which were currently in a pile buried beneath other dirty clothes in the corner of the room. But any body parts the sight of which would scandalize most species, were covered, and as for others, well that was whoever was disturbing her nap’s problem.

And she had to get to the door to cease the annoying buzzing alarm before the idiot disturbed her companion as well. Or else, she might not be responsible for what she did to them.

Not if they caused Cassian Andor any harm, in any form, even if it was just waking him up.

Jyn tapped the door controls a little harder than necessary, but preempted another buzz of the chime, the intruder standing in the hall with their finger raised to the outside controls.

It was a woman, in Alliance uniform, who promptly came to attention. Why exactly, Jyn couldn’t guess. Jyn may have led a tragedy of a suicide mission on behalf of the rebellion, but she hadn’t officially joined up, had no rank (or probably right to even be) on the Yavin 4 base.

Oh.

The formality of the woman’s response was to mitigate her obvious surprise and discomfort. Her blue eyes wandered about rather frantically, taking in Jyn’s appearance, the quarters behind her, the bed with the (hopefully still) sleeping captain who looked like he’d been through a war, which he literally had. Her eyes went back to Jyn, avoiding her face, lingering a little bit too much on the non-soldier’s bare legs. Apparently, the undergarments she had borrowed from Cassian’s meager stock of clothing did not merit ‘decent enough to answer the door’.

It wasn’t like they were too tight, revealed too much… Okay, so the sleeveless undershirt was thin enough that Jyn’s nipples probably showed through, but while it probably fit Cassian pretty snug, it was not like it was skin tight on her. And the undershorts were likewise a little loose, which had forced her to roll the waistband down to below her hip bones. But still… Hadn’t the woman ever seen another woman sleeping in a man’s undergarments?

Blue eyes darted to Jyn’s rat’s nest hair, fell to her mostly exposed shoulder, the one with the angry looking blaster scar, still fresh, pink and aggressively thickly textured.

Jyn sighed. Honestly, could she blame the woman for staring?

“Can I help you?” she asked, taking pity on the soldier.

“Uh, yes, uh… Miss Erso.” The blue eyes finally settled on Jyn’s face and the woman seemed to steel herself to face the uncivilized heathen. “I’ve been sent with a request from Command for Captain Andor.”

Jyn narrowed her eyes as the woman’s gaze slid past the half-dressed civilian again, this time for more than a glance at the man lying in the bed, who was even more naked than Jyn was, as she’d left him in just a pair of undershorts, a lightweight blanket only covering his hips and upper thighs. Parts of him were still covered in bandages, his skin discolored with bruises both dark and faded, a fresh blaster scar on his side to match Jyn’s. Nearly every vulnerable part of him was exposed. But the base was on a farking jungle moon, and while the higher ups’ quarters likely had decent environmental controls, it could get stifling in the lowly spy-captain’s small room, especially with two bodies squeezed into the same narrow cot.

But Jyn wasn’t about to sleep anywhere else. For her own sanity, she had to be close, until she was certain he could protect himself again. He was too vulnerable as he recovered from his Scarif injuries. He was too vulnerable to be ogled by some Alliance messenger girl.

Putting a hand on the doorframe, Jyn moved to fill the space as best she could with her petite body, blocking the other woman’s view of Cassian as much as she could.

“He can’t take any of Command’s orders,” Jyn said, knowing the underling didn’t deserve her disdain but unable to keep the bitterness from showing. Cassian had given everything just short of his actual death to the rebellion. “He’s on medical leave.”

Force, he couldn’t yet stay awake for more than a handful of hours a day, could barely stand upright, let alone walk more than a few steps.

“They want you both to come to the ceremony this evening,” the messenger girl said hastily, slurring most of the words together as Jyn reached for the door controls to close it in the soldier’s face.

Jyn hesitated, completely thrown. “Ceremony?”

“To recognize the heroes that defeated the Death Star. And to honor those who lost their lives, in that battle. And on Scarif. As the only Alliance survivors, Command wanted you and Captain Andor to be present.”

Jyn rolled her eyes. What difference to the dead did it make? Why should she care about appeasing Command’s conscience? It wasn’t worth dragging Cassian from his recovery to be paraded about so the Alliance could feel good about itself. Jyn had done what needed doing, just as Cassian had, just as the others had. It was pain and sorrow and death. And no amount of ‘thank you for your valor’ or whatever bantha shit would make it better.

The satisfaction, the only justification that soothed Jyn’s conscience, was that they had done the job, had defeated Krennic. But what if Cassian needed more to assuage any survivor’s guilt he’d been accumulating? Beneath that stoic exterior of his, she sensed a very soft, troubled soul.

“I’ll tell the captain when he wakes,” Jyn said. “It’s his decision. He might not be up to it.”

“I’ll inform Command that you may be absent.” The soldier shifted her weight. “It starts in 3 hours.”

Jyn frowned. “That’s kind of last minute.”

“Well, once the decision was made to evacuate, there was a bit of a rush to-”

“Evacuate?!” Force, you hole up in a man’s bed for a few days and you lose all touch with the outside world.

“Uh, yes. The Empire is sending a fleet as fast as possible to destroy Yavin base.” It was apparent on the woman’s face that this quick task someone had sent her on was turning into a conversation she hadn’t bargained for. “Someone should be around with your evacuation unit assignment soon. Captain Andor will probably either be grouped with his Intelligence garrison or…” Another glance at the unconscious wounded man (which Jyn didn’t know why it irked her that someone dared look at him, but it got her temper up fierce). “Or he’ll be put in with medical evac.”

The soldier had made no implication either way, and Jyn didn’t even bother asking whether she’d be assigned to the same unit as Cassian. Because it didn’t matter what the Alliance said, Jyn wouldn’t be leaving his side.

Read Part Two

#fic: Give Me A Reason #Rogue One #fanfiction #rebelcaptain #Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #but like mostly Jyn in this chapter #hurt/comfort #possessive!Jyn #this is going to be multiple chapters/scenes #but like I needed to get it out before moving onto the trash 'mission fic' that's plaguing my imagination

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

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Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 7 - The Qualifiers (Part 1)

It’s here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. The Kansei Reforms is a “series of conservative measures promoted (largely during the Kansei era [1789–1801]) by the Japanese statesman Matsudaira Sadanobu between 1787 and 1793 to restore the sinking financial and moral condition of the Tokugawa government.” (Source: Encyclopedia Britannica)

Previous | Next

“The weather’s good today.”

Kakeru stretched deeply and breathed in the refreshing autumn air. According to the weather report they had heard on the radio before heading out, it was thirteen degrees and humidity was at eighty-three percent. And there was almost no wind—for the middle of October, the weather was relatively easy to run in. It’s fitting for a battle, Kakeru thought.

Next to Kakeru, Jouji was looking at a family with a picnic blanket. Being a Saturday, the park was already filled with people who had come to watch the qualifiers while relaxing and taking a walk.

“It looks like fun. My bladder’s been acting funny for a while now, though.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing comes out even when I go to the toilet.”

Jouji had already gone to the washroom more than ten times since getting up, but it would be pointless even if Kakeru told him not to be nervous. The sound of the taiko drums from each school’s cheerleading squad resounded through the Showa Memorial Park in Tachikawa—it was an unavoidable reminder that the qualifiers would soon begin.

By noon that day, it would be decided whether or not they would be able to participate in the Hakone Ekiden. Unable to find any words that would soothe Jouji’s high-strung nerves, Kakeru only said, “Me too.”

Jouta was sprawled out on top of the grass a little farther away, his eyes tightly closed. His hands, which were resting on his stomach, sometimes twitched, so it didn’t seem like he was sleeping. Even though everyone at Chikusei-sou had woken up before dawn and taken the train for about an hour to get to Showa Memorial Park, Kakeru didn’t feel sleepy; every single corner of his consciousness was clear.

“I’m going to go jogging one more time. What about you, Jouji?”

When Kakeru asked that, Jouji answered, “I’m going to the washroom.” Kakeru parted with Jouji and left the lawn, then started running through the large park.

The runners from the other schools were also concentrating on warming up and familiarizing themselves with the terrain of the park. Every time he caught sight of the blue jerseys of TSU, Kakeru’s heart leapt awkwardly; he didn’t want to run into Sakaki. If his concentration before the race was disturbed, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself after just quarrelling with him this time.

A wave of spectators had already started rushing towards the start point to cheer on their favorite schools and runners. There were cheering squad members dressed in gakuran holding large flags and many musical instruments, and they were having heated arguments with the cheering squads of other schools in order to secure the best possible spot.

He had already warmed up enough. He didn’t feel like he could stay still, but he couldn’t tire himself out before the race, Kakeru told himself. He stopped jogging and returned to the grass near the start point.

The banner made by Yaokatsu and the plasterer had been put up, so Kansei’s camp was easy to identify. The people from the shopping district were sitting on picnic blankets, waiting for the signal gun that would announce the beginning of the qualifiers. The residents of Chikusei-sou had all gathered after having finished their running preparations. Scattered around them at suitable distances were the other schools’ camps, their multicolored banners dyed with the names of their school.

“Our banner is pretty good.”

King, seeing Kakeru, started talking to him immediately. Is it? Kakeru thought, but noticing King’s trembling fingers, he obediently nodded, “Yes.”

“To begin with, Kansei U esteems the spirit of Lord Matsudaira Sadanobu, who carried out the Kansei Reforms (1)…”

Perhaps because he was nervous, King began discharging miscellaneous trivia like a broken tape record at a tourist information desk. Kakeru sat down while making half-hearted interjections—Hanako had prepared blankets and water bottles, so the plastic sheet had become a comfortable space.

“We did a trial run, so I’m sure you all understand what we’re doing, but let’s review today’s strategy,” Kiyose said. Shindou and Musa were staring at the TV crew’s equipment admiringly, but hurriedly went over to Kiyose. Kakeru drew a rough map of the qualifiers’ race course on a whiteboard.

“What’s that, a maze?” Prince’s brows knitted together.

“The course is simple,” Kakeru started explaining the diagram with a hint of objection aimed at Prince. “We start at the JSDF garrison that adjoins the park. We do two laps around the runway and the taxiway. Then, we go out onto the road, go along the street in front of the station, go under the elevated monorail, and then return to the park. We do one lap of the park, and the finish line is next to the grass clearing.”

Kiyose pointed out important points about the course.

“We didn’t do a trial run at the garrison, but just think of the runway and taxiway as a very spacious track. Those two laps are five kilometers. It’s our first time running in this place, and there are no landmarks or signs, so it will probably be hard to grasp the distance. I don’t know how the race will unfold, but don’t get influenced by the runners who are running fast from the starting line; figure out your pacing by yourself. You’ll have done ten kilometers about the time you pass under the monorail. You’ll turn back at the eleven or twelve kilometer point, and you’ll be at fifteen kilometers immediately after you return to the park. There’s a water station, but don’t worry too much if you don’t happen to get any. And then from here, it’ll be a battle of whether or not you have enough strength left. The park has a lot of small ups and downs, but give it one last push and run to the finish line as fast as you can.”

“I have a question.” Musa raised his hand. “In order to pass the qualifiers, what are the times we need to set? I would like to know a rough estimate.”

“I don’t want to tell you too much because I don’t want you to panic, but…” Kiyose hesitated.

“These guys need to panic a bit. If you leave them to their own devices they’ll just crawl the whole way,” Yuki said. “It varies year to year, depending on the weather and the development of the race, but if the ten of us have a combined time in the ten hour and twelve minute range, then we’ll be safe.”

“Hie!” The twins let out strange sounds.

“So, what you’re saying is that it’s twenty kilometers per person and we’re running them in a little over an hour?” Jouta said.

“That’s just over three minutes per kilometer, Nii-chan!” Jouji said.

“And we don’t have intercollegiate points,” Nico-chan supplemented. “If we finish seventh or lower for time, there’s a high chance we’ll suddenly lose because intercollegiate points will get involved. We want to break into the top six, where it’s decided purely using just the total times.”

“We’ll be fine,” Kiyose reassuringly calmed their agitation. “Kakeru and I will make as much time as we can. There’s a lot of participants, so run together at first and maintain your pace. While you’re doing your first lap on the runway, those who don’t have enough energy should be shaken off. Never be tempted by a pace that’s too fast or too slow.”

“Okay,” Jouji responded like a good boy.

“However,” Kiyose added, “if the leading group is too fast I’ll give you a signal, but otherwise you’ll have to keep up with them, or it’ll be hard to pass the qualifiers. If all ten of us don’t get to the finish line with all our strength, then everything will end today!”

Most of them had resolved themselves inwardly, but Prince and King already seemed to be getting cold feet.

“Can we do this?” they muttered to each other. “It seems tough…”

“I have a question too.” The owner of Yaokatsu raised his hand.

“Dad!” Hanako admonished him, but he continued talking without minding her.

“The other universities seem to have more people in uniforms than you do. What’s up with that exactly?”

“Katsu-chan, I was wondering about that too.” The plasterer looked around. “I counted, but there are twelve people wearing uniforms at TSU and NKU. We only have ten people.”

“You noticed something unfortunate, sir.” Kiyose forced a smile. “For the qualifiers, a team can register a maximum of fourteen people as expected participants. Taking into account physical conditions and other things, they whittle it down to twelve people on the day of the race."

Yuki pushed up his glasses and added to his explanation.

"In Hakone, the universities all compete against each other with the combined times of the top ten people among them. That means teams with lots of members have two extra people for insurance.”

As Kansei only had ten runners, if any one of them failed to reach the finish line, their path to Hakone would be severed. Learning once again the weight of the responsibility he was bearing, Prince paled and clutched at his stomach. Conversely, Kakeru’s fighting spirit reached its peak, and he couldn’t wait to start running.

“Let’s do our best.” Jouji said cheerfully, perhaps having given up on his bladder that wouldn’t obey his will. “Today we’re avenging the landlord!”

“He’s not dead,” Kakeru muttered.

It was almost time to assemble at the starting line.

“Let’s go,” Kiyose said readily.

“We’re not going to form a huddle and cheer?” King asked nervously.

“Do you want to do that?”

“No, but…” King mumbled his words. Conscious of the TV cameras, he was fretting about not looking good if they didn’t do something. Kiyose guessed what King was thinking.

“The mountains of Hakone are the steepest in the world!” He said. “Now, let’s go.”

Kiyose, who started walking at once, was as calm as usual. Either dumbfounded or stifling their laughter, the members of Chikusei-sou followed him.

“Go!”

“Win and come back!”

The people of the shopping district saw them off.

“We’ll be waiting for you at the finish line!”

Everyone only waved back at Hanako’s words. Once the runners started moving, the spectators began to make their way across the large park towards the finish line. Hanako and the others carried their bags and made preparations to set up camp in the grass clearing.

“What’s the matter with them? Having those soppy looks on their faces,” Yaokatsu and the plasterer huffed.

There were cheering contests for each school beginning; helicopters circling in the sky; TV cameras set up here and there; bikes keeping pace with the runners while filming them; leading cars with speakers; the noise of the spectators along the course, waiting for the runners to pass by. Experiencing this brilliance and enthusiasm for the first time, Chikusei-sou couldn’t help but shrink back.

“I didn’t know the Hakone Ekiden was this popular already starting from the qualifiers,” Shindou said, moved.

“I went to the washroom with Prince-san just now,” Jouji said. “I was shocked. It was my first time seeing a men’s room with a line for the stalls. The participants were taking turns going number two.”

“I used to have a prejudice against people who did sports.” Prince was still rubbing his stomach. “I thought they were all muscle down to their brains, but it seems that everyone has delicate nerves, surprisingly.”

Jouta had been lying down like a corpse, but incredibly, he was now walking with a bounce in his step. It seemed that he had overcome his nervousness with concentration.

“We’re finally taking our first step towards winning Hakone.”

Winning? Kakeru glanced at Kiyose. Even if they could pass the qualifiers, it would be impossible to win the main race with these members. Kiyose noticed his gaze and silently smiled a little. Don’t say anything that would lower their morale right now, his eyes said.

The participants crowded the start point. They could see the TSU uniforms beyond the wall of people. Kansei would be setting out from the rear.

When you look at it like this…Kakeru thought. Their builds were completely different. The runners in front of him from schools that frequently competed in Hakone had tight and lean figures. However, some of the university students starting from the back had obviously heavy frames and leg muscles that suggested that they hadn’t been running long enough.

But the biggest difference was the expressions on their faces: the runners from schools that were called weak weren’t experienced and looked unsure of themselves before the race. It’s cruel, Kakeru thought. Even though long distance running was a sport where it was relatively feasible to manage somehow with hard work, the cold hard truth was that there were still the physical abilities and constitutions that one was born with. In addition, whether or not the runners could prepare an environment, equipment and coaches that would allow them to devote themselves to the sport depended on the financial power of their school.

Nevertheless, there was no difference in the level of seriousness in aiming for Hakone among the people gathered there. No matter what one’s position or circumstances were, in running, everyone had no choice but to stand at the same starting line. Success or failure were brought forth by one’s own body right at that moment.

That’s why it’s fun as well as painful. And freer than anything else.

Kakeru looked at the members of Chikusei-sou, dressed in their black and silver uniforms; bodies with no extra fat and supple muscles stretched thinly over their frames. They were the bodies of living beings built for running, not inferior to the runners of the regular schools. They were not afraid, and their eyes sparkled with curiosity and fighting spirit.

We can do this, Kakeru thought.

He didn’t think about anything else. Once they started, there was only running. Kakeru fixed his gaze ahead and waited for the departure signal gun.

It was eight-thirty in the morning. The qualifiers began.

Thirty-six schools—four hundred and fifteen runners—started running at once. It was the opening of the battle where the right to participate in the Hakone Ekiden was at stake.

Only nine schools can go to Hakone from here. We’ll definitely be one of them. Kakeru kicked off the ground with all his strength.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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izlaria · 3 years

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Someone you like (part 3)

This is the third chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform. Please hit me up to talk about Plance!

Summary: Lance finds a better friend in Pidge than he could have antecipated.

Also, Pidge pining hour.

17 and 15 years old

“I can’t believe we have a cow.” Lance stared in awe at the animal. It looked completely out-of-place in the middle of the highly technological castle-ship. “Where did that dude even get her from?” he exclaimed, waving an arm at it. Lance gasped, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Do you think she’s… a clone?”

Kaltenecker kept on chewing, indifferent to Lance’s fussy behavior.

“Most likely,” Pidge responded. She was looking down at a tablet that contained results from the scan they’d conducted on Kaltenecker. “She is carbon-based, which isn’t such a rarity out here, but is always good to know. The anatomy also checks out with normal cow biology. The only change I could find is that her diet is more adapted to what’s available in this quadrant.”

Lance scratched the top of his head. “Does that mean she can’t eat Earth food?”

“She probably can…” Pidge tapped the edge of the tablet in a considering manner. “We eat alien food and nothing has happened yet.”

“So we’re winging it? That doesn’t sound very scientific.” He didn’t like the idea of putting their cow in danger. “Can’t you figure something out for her to eat?”

“I’m not a biochemist, Lance.” Pidge took her eyes off Kaltenecker to glare at him. “Nor a geneticist. That’s more Coran’s area of expertise.”

“Easy!” Lance held up his hands. “We can talk to him, then. I was just asking a question…”

Pidge huffed out a breath, then let her shoulders drop. “I don’t know how you’re not annoyed right now. We spent the entire afternoon in a fountain to get a freaking video game, only to realize we have no way to turn it on!”

“I actually had fun.” Lance shrugged. He didn’t really see what bothered her so much. Sure, he wanted to play Killbot Phantasm, but even the fact that they’d found the game out in the universe was enough for him. “It felt like the sort of crazy I used to get to back home.”

She fidgeted with the tablet in her hands. “Going to the mall and causing a scene?”

Lance eyed Pidge curiously. Her brow was furrowed, but she looked more lost than irritated. “Sure,” he acquiesced. “This was hardly my first time fishing out coins from a fountain.”

“It was for me,” Pidge interrupted brusquely. “I had never done that before.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Really? You’re one of the biggest troublemakers I’ve met. I’m pretty sure you’re at least guilty of fraud after lying about your identity to get into the Garrison.”

For some reason, this seemed to startle her. It was almost ludicrous to think that Pidge had gone undercover without realizing the legal implications of her actions. It would be just like her, too, to get so caught up in the big picture that she simply bulldozed through every other detail.

“That was different, though.” She was pouting now, her cheeks comedically puffed out. “I was more of a homebody when younger.” Her gaze was lowered to her hands, distant. “I don’t have as many stories to tell as you and Hunk.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Lance scoffed. “Aren’t you always talking about the crazy experiments you and Matt did? I bet he will have a bunch of embarrassing shit about you that you never tell us. I can’t wait to get my hands on all that sweet, sweet blackmail!”

Lance wrung his hands menacingly, but when he looked down at Pidge the expression on her face caught him off guard. He expected her to be exasperated or at least displeased, so the tenderness in her eyes was unforeseen.

He’d been talking about her brother as if they would meet soon, Lance realized. Pidge mentioned him often, but not in detail, not in any capacity that didn’t serve to remind everyone of her mission to find her family. He guessed it felt too much like an open wound, like when Lance tried to talk about Marco or Rachel.

But maybe it did them some good, too.

“Besides, even if we never get to play Killbot Phantasm, we still did plenty today.” Lance began to count on his hand. “We stole money from a fountain so we could buy a vintage video game. We got a cow from a space mall. We were chased by an alien security guard who thought we were pirates! I couldn’t make this up if I tried!”

When he laughed, Pidge joined in. She tried to suppress it, but the air escaped through her nose and her lips quirked up in undeniable amusement. It always felt like a victory to make her laugh. Pidge didn’t let herself get distracted often.

“I don’t know,” she quipped, looking more relaxed. “You have the most convoluted stories of anyone I know.”

Although Pidge said it as if it was a bad thing, Lance could see the playfulness in the twist of her mouth. This was nice, too, because a year earlier he would have seen only the harshness in his teammate. On an impulse, he leaned down to hug her.

“W – What?!” Pidge thrashed against his arms. “Lance, let me go!”

“No can do, Pidgey.” He held on. Lance had crossed his arms behind her head, keeping her tight against his chest. “You can’t escape this friendship.”

“Yes, I can, you nitwit!” Pidge’s voice was muffled by his shirt and Lance simply pretended not to hear her. “You’re suffocating me!”

“We have Kaltenecker now, we’re her parents!” he stated happily, despite the sting of Pidge pinching his sides. “Stop, you don’t want her to see us fighting.”

Pidge let her arms fall, looking up at Lance. Her face was red and her hair stuck out from where he’d accidentally run his hands through it. “You’re ridiculous.”

There was a well-placed moo from Kaltenecker, as if the cow agreed.

Lance grinned and finally gave up his grip on her, taking a step back. Pidge immediately punched him in the stomach in retaliation.

“Ow!” he complained, though it was clear she hadn’t put any real force behind it. “We were having a moment!”

Pidge turned up her nose, but her complexion only grew more flustered. “Then you can forget all about it, like you did with Keith.”

“Fine, you win.” Lance crossed his arms, looking smugly down at her. “I did make you blush, though. I might be rusty, but old Lance still has an effect on the ladies!”

“Ugh!” Pidge moved so quickly that Lance had to hide behind Kaltenecker in order to evade her hits. When they stopped running, she kept her tablet at hand, brandishing it as if it was her bayard. “Never say that to me again!”

He stuck his tongue out at her, then had to duck when Pidge aimed the tablet at his head once more. “Jeez, you know I’m kidding!”

“Yeah.” Something in her voice made Lance shoot back up. She was staring right at him, looking more serious than he’d expected. “I know.”

Before he could ask what was wrong, Pidge walked away from where he stood and towards a panel in the back of the room. She deposited her tablet on one side, then started clicking away at a few keys.

“Coran mentioned we could reprogram the room to look like a field on Earth,” she explained once Lance had made his way over. “We could maybe get some vegetation from a planet in this quadrant and create an area for her to graze.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.” He felt almost dizzy from the ups and downs of Pidge’s humor. The coldness that surrounded her now made Lance want to apologize, but it also annoyed him. He thought they were having a good time earlier. “Introducing Kaltenecker to Earth food isn’t really the priority, huh?”

Pidge nodded, avoiding his eyes.

Despite the awkwardness, Lance didn’t want to leave. The idea of letting Pidge stay mad at him left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially after the day they’d had. She could be incessantly frustrating, but she had also grown on him.

Like a weed. A short, bad-tempered weed.

He watched in silence as she worked the panel. Her concentration was admirable, even when she used it as a way to push Lance away. It reminded him of their time in the Garrison, when it felt like every step he took in their friendship was met with two steps back from Pidge.

With the privilege of hindsight, Lance could guess how tiring the disguise must have been for her. Their studies had never been easy and Pidge had perfected her mediocrity like an art. Knowing her true genius now, Lance imagined she’d actually known it all but had chosen to keep herself under the radar.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Her tone struck a chord with him, bringing forth a familiarity that he hadn’t felt since Earth.

Lance put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m just waiting for you, Pidgeon.”

She turned back to the panel, then took a deep breath, as if calming herself.

“I have a lot to do here,” she said in warning. After a moment, her expression softened. “Why don’t you take the game up to your room? I’ll grab Hunk on my way there and we can try to adapt everything to the castle’s power source.”

Lance could recognize her words for the peace offering that they were. He aimed finger guns at her, earning himself a snicker.

“Don’t take too long or I’ll fall asleep!” he called out as he walked backwards, towards the exit.

“I’ll get Kaltenecker to lick your hair, if you do!” she replied, attention already back to the control panel.

Lance laughed, but he knew that was no empty threat.

He didn’t often spend his nights roaming the hallways of the castle. Lance was a big believer on the benefits of good sleep and an established routine. It helped him maintain his complexion blemish-free and it contributed to keeping him sane when his mind felt scrambled beyond repair.

There were times, however, when not even spa days and special hair masks could calm his thoughts, and then he was stuck like this, struggling to fall asleep.

He buried deeper into his jacket. It wasn’t his normal one, but a big, fleece-y thing that Hunk and Pidge had gotten for him in their last trip to the space mall. Lance loved it fiercely. The castle cooled during the night-cycle to ensure the machines didn’t overheat and Lance always suffered for it.

A blinking light on the doors to his right caught Lance’s attention. It signaled movement in the hangar, just one of many fail-safes devised by Coran and Pidge to ensure no one was trying to mess with the lions. The light wasn’t all that worrying on its own; it was just a way to know what rooms were currently in use.

Lance was too tired to think through his actions. He moved into the hangar, not even questioning who might be in there. He wanted to see Blue. Or Red. Or anyone, really.

He rubbed at his eyes, collecting the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

Sure enough, there was Pidge, curled around a set of tools and a big, wiry mess of parts. She had probably been propped up against the processing columns but ended up sliding down in her sleep.

The image filled Lance with so much affection that he found himself smiling. It was unusual to see their youngest member without her defenses put up. She was only second to Keith in her reserve, something that had initially displeased Lance about the two.

Pidge did have the habit of falling asleep while she worked, but Shiro and Hunk were the ones charged with checking on her. Lance thought she looked strangely cute like this, with her mouth a little open and her glasses askew. He’d forgotten how young she truly was, because of how smart and assertive Pidge could be. She didn’t want to be treated like a child and the whole team could respect her strength and maturity.

Even before they’d ended up light-years from Earth, Pidge had already carried more on her shoulders than anyone Lance had ever met. Despite knowing it was a vain hope, Lance wished he hadn’t made things harder for her back in the Garrison.

He crouched down and carefully pulled her glasses free. Strands of hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead, but without the too-big frames Lance could see her face more clearly.

Pidge already looked older than she had when they were students. After so many wormhole jumps, it was difficult to determine how long had passed since their discovery of the Blue Lion, but the passage of time made itself known in other ways.

She was pretty, but that didn’t surprise Lance. Pidge’s no-nonsense ways and sharp eyes had always been striking, even when he only pointed out these aspects of her as a joke.

Lance took off his jacket and balled it up, trying to slip it behind her head. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it was an improvement to her current position.

“Lance?” Her eyes had fluttered open. From this close, he could see the fatigue that clouded them.

“Hey, Pidgey-Pidge,” he called out in a whisper.

“Hey, loverboy.” She giggled, lids opening and closing tiredly.

The nickname shot another wave of emotion through him. For some reason, Lance felt his eyes burn again.

“We should get you to bed,” he tried to say, though his voice sounded rougher than he intended.

Pidge didn’t immediately notice. She nodded a few times and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She frowned at the pieces of tech still scattered around them, then focused her eyes back on him.

“Lance,” she sounded much more awake now, “why are you here?”

“Oh, you know,” he stalled. “Sometimes, in the middle of the night, a guy just needs to grab some food goo.” He flexed his now exposed arms. “I’m a growing boy, Pidge.”

Pidge raised a brow, looking supremely unimpressed. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lance winced a little at the terse tone she’d adopted. Even in her half-awake state, Pidge was still able to see through his bullshit.

“The kitchen is nowhere near the hangar,” she continued when he didn’t reply. Her voice was soft in a way Lance had never heard from Pidge. “And your eyes look red.”

He shifted his head to the side to escape her scrutiny. Lance half-expected Pidge to get angry at his stubbornness, so he couldn’t help the small, shocked sob that escaped him when her hand touched his chin, slowly lifting his gaze.

The worry in her face quickly changed into something understanding, an almost desperate ache that must have reflected his own expression. Without another word, Lance buried into her embrace, curved so that his forehead rested on Pidge’s shoulder.

“I c-can’t stop thinking about them,” he confessed amid his sobs. “What – What if they think I’m dead?”

Pidge murmured an “I know” into his hair. Despite their size difference, she wrapped herself around Lance so completely that he felt guarded by her arms.

“Come on,” she said once his whimpers had quieted down. “Your room is the closest.”

Lance let her move away. His knees hurt from the position he’d assumed on the floor and, now that he no longer had Pidge there, the cold of the hangar raised goosebumps across his arms.

“Put this back on.” Pidge draped the fleece jacket over his shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a moment, drawing a line in the fabric. “It’s a better coat than it could ever be a pillow.”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but Lance smiled at her. Crying made him exhausted, but not enough to ignore Pidge’s efforts to cheer him up. He stood up.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

They made their way to his room in silence. Pidge had to stop at the hangar doors to put in the security measures, but no more words were exchanged. Lance was just glad to have company.

They paused in front of his dorm. “Will you come in?”

Pidge studied him carefully. Lance didn’t think she could see much in the dark of the hallway, but the truth was that she’d already caught him in a breakdown, there was nothing else to hide.

“Do you want to be alone?” she finally vocalized her concern. Lance shook his head, feeling his chest constrict at the possibility that she might leave. “Then I’ll come in.”

He went straight to his bed and laid down. Pidge stood at the entrance, letting the door slide closed behind her. The awkwardness was palpable and Lance couldn’t blame her for it; Pidge was not the best at social cues.

“At least sit down with me. I promise I won’t start bawling again.” He didn’t mean to sound depreciative, but his self-consciousness must have shown, because Pidge narrowed her eyes at him.

“I don’t care if you cry, you doofus.” She marched up to the bed and sat down near the headboard. “Put your head in my lap.”

Her demanding tone didn’t fit in with the gentleness of her actions. Lance was amused by the incongruity. Pidge was rough around the edges and her earlier show off affection now made her bristle, almost as if she was afraid to reveal too much to him. Lance could understand the urge to put up a front, but he was too exhausted to be embarrassed.

He rolled on his side, fitting his shoulder under her thigh.

“My mom used to do this when I was upset.” Pidge ran a hand through his hair, pulling lightly at the knots until they were undone. “The rhythm of it always soothed me. That and her, really. Mom had – I mean, she has a calming influence.”

Lance didn’t comment on her slip up. The feeling of nails scraping against his scalp was pleasing. The personal closeness was something that they also did in his family and he had missed it. He was a naturally affectionate person and the team didn’t seem to appreciate his expansiveness all that much.

“I used to do this for Veronica and Rachel,” he breathed out. “Ronie is older and she would force me to braid their hair when I was younger. I complained about it non-stop, but now I miss it.”

Pidge traced his hairline, then down to his ear, neck, collarbone. She seemed absent-minded as she did it, mind caught somewhere else.

“Matt was the one who would call me Pidge. I used to hate that nickname. After he disappeared, it seemed only right to assume it as my new name. For him.”

Lance shifted a little, so that he could look up at her. “Your real name isn’t Pidge?”

This made her stop for a moment and look down at him in exasperation. Lance suppressed the urge to laugh, but his lips still twisted into a smile, despite his effort.

Pidge flicked him on the forehead.

“I thought you were being serious!” It was funny to see her like this. Pidge usually responded to him with either blankness or sarcasm, so it was satisfying to garner an actual reaction.

“I could have been!” Lance brought a hand up to rub his stinging forehead. “You do realize you never told Hunk and I your real name?”

“It’s Katie,” she said without preamble. The only sign of her unease was that, when Lance tried to sneak another look at her face, Pidge’s fingers held his head in place, before resuming movement in his hair.

“It’s nice to meet you, Katie.” He let out a soft snicker, which Pidge mirrored.

“Nice to meet you, Lance.”

Lance fell silent, letting her touch lull him into a torpor. The point of contact gave him something to concentrate outside of his thoughts of Earth, until the sensation and Pidge were all he could focus on.

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked after some time.

“No.” Lance slowly rose up from her lap. “I don’t know if I will be able to sleep tonight.”

Pidge frowned, looking down at her hands as Lance repositioned himself to sit at her side.

“You and I are more similar than I ever thought, I guess.”

“What, you also go crying around the castle at strange hours, hoping no one else will see?” She raised a brow at him in response. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, really. Lance had known how broken up she felt about her father and brother’s disappearance. “We will find them, Pidge. I won’t rest until we do.”

The emotion in her eyes shifted. He couldn’t really tell what Pidge was feeling, but the look on her face was both sad and warm, grateful even. Lance tried to think of a time when he or any of the others had tried to support her in her search. There might have been something said when she’d first revealed her identity, but nothing stood out since.

His chest tightened with the realization.

It was possible that Hunk or Allura had spoken to Pidge privately about it, and Lance would put good money on the odds that Shiro had comforted her more than once, but that was it. Keith was quiet and broody, too dedicated to their mission to consider what the rest of the team went through. And Lance…

Lance had been too self-involved to notice. He had wallowed in his own misfortune and it had blinded him to the fact that at least his family was safe in Cuba. Pidge’s father and brother were lost in the middle of an intergalactic war, taken prisoners. Her mother thought she was missing.

He didn’t feel like he deserved Pidge’s gratitude.

“Can you tell me something funny?” she asked out of the blue. “I don’t think talking about our families is gonna help either of us sleep tonight.”

Lance let out a shaky exhale. “You’re right. I’m all cried out.” He poked at the skin under his eyes. It felt sensitive and swollen. “All that investigating for good eye masks and the work was all for nothing!” He put his palm over his eyes, playfully turning his head to the side. “Don’t look at me! I’m a shadow of my former self!”

“You’re the resident beauty guru, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Pidge rolled her eyes at his theatrics. She pulled Lance’s hand away from his face. “And you owe me a story.”

“Hey, how do I owe you anything?” He pouted at her. “I just saved you from getting a crick on your neck!”

She pulled more harshly at his hand, making Lance yelp. “You woke me up and I even gave you a head massage!”

It was his turn to tug at her arm, but his smile betrayed that Lance was having fun. “Fine, but then we’re even!”

Pidge finally let go of him, looking smug. He closed his hand and pointed at her face in an act of mock aggravation.

“Is it okay if I lie down?” She looked around the room, as if searching for a hidden futon where she could stretch out.

“Sure, let me just…” He scooted down and to the side. Pidge maneuvered into the space he had created, stuck between him and the wall. “I don’t think these beds were made to be shared.” He laughed.

The position wasn’t the worst they could be in. Pidge was small enough that, with her back pressed to the wall, Lance had enough space in the mattress that he wouldn’t fall over.

“This feels like a sleepover.” Her face scrunched up at the words. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or just amused by the idea. “I never had one of those before.”

“Never?” he marveled.

“No need to look that surprised,” Pidge huffed. “I just didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Not anyone close, at least.”

“Just Matt,” Lance blurted out without thinking. A shadow crossed Pidge’s eyes, but she didn’t seem upset.

“Yeah… You would like him. Matt can be as much of a goofball as you are.” She nuzzled quietly into the pillow. The lights had dimmed automatically when they laid down, so Lance couldn’t tell if Pidge was blushing or not. “It helps, you know? Having you here.”

Pidge refused to catch his eyes as she said this, which Lance understood. Being vulnerable could be scary, even when around your best friends. Still, he felt pride well up in him, glad that he had done something right towards her.

“You wanted a funny story, right?” he asked softly, the words only loud enough to be heard. Pidge’s gaze snapped to his, obviously relieved. “How about this: My first love was this little girl I met when I was fourteen. I never even knew her name.”

“That’s not funny, not really.” Pidge’s brows took a quizzical air. “How do you know it was love, then?”

“I just know. When I think about her, about that day… It felt like fate.” He saw the cynicism on her face before Pidge could even say anything. “I swear! I met her and everything changed. I don’t know if I would have met Hunk or got into the Garrison or even made it here without her.”

Pidge sighed against the pillow. “Honestly, that sounds like a lot of pressure to put on a first love.”

Lance watched as she drew patterns into the sheets between them. She wasn’t trying to be mean, he could tell.

“She doesn’t know, obviously. I didn’t even like her straight away. It’s just –” he paused, thinking it through. “It’s just funny, how much of a difference one person can make. When she talked to me, I was feeling sorry for myself. She cheered me up.”

That same day, he had met Hunk, who had later confessed that he’d only approached Lance because he’d appeared to be in a good humor. Without Hunk, his best friend, Lance might not have tried out for the Garrison. And, without the Garrison, he wouldn’t have been in Arizona to find the Blue Lion.

“Is she why you are so obsessed with fate and such?” Pidge teased. She was yawning every few seconds, but there was a smile on her face.

“You shouldn’t knock fate down.” Lance grinned, trying to bat her hand away from the sheets. They had bunched up a bit due to her movements. “It got us into space and closer to your family.”

Pidge made a face at him, then shrugged. They’d had this conversation before, about what had led the three out into Garrison grounds that night. Pidge argued that it was bound to happen, with how often she went out to search the radio frequencies, but even that fell back into Lance’s claim that they were all destined to become the new paladins of Voltron.

“I just think that love is about commitment,” she murmured, eyes already closed. “It’s about choosing one person and then falling in love with him, even when he’s obnoxious, even when he’s…” She trailed off, having fallen asleep.

Lance chuckled at her little speech. It was nice to think that someone would eventually choose to love him, forever. He felt comforted not only by the idea, but by Pidge's slow breathing, the heat of her hand so close to his chest. His own lids felt heavier and heavier. Lance closed his eyes.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #cyance #lidge #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #lance mcclain #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

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Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags: A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe

You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.

They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all the Asgardians, an invading force.

But they weren't invading this planet.

You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.

Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.

“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.

“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”

Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.

“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.

The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.

The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.

You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.

Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.

You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.

“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.

“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.

“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”

“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”

“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”

“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”

“But would you still live in such a home?”

“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”

“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”

“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”

“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”

“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.

“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”

“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”

“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”

“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”

Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.

“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”

“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”

“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.

But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”

“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.

“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”

You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.

“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”

“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”

He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.

“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”

“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.

“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”

The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.

“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”

It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”

“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”

You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.

And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.

On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.

Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.

Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.

But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.

Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.

Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.

Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...

******

...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.

He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.

He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.

“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”

You scooted quickly away from him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.

“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“That...might have happened.”

“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”

“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”

“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”

“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”

“...Maybe tomorrow.”

Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.

You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?

#betathetaandme

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peakyxtommy · 4 years

Text

The First Two Years - Wedding Series AU

Summary: Tommy reflecting back on his first two years of his relationship with the reader as he prepares to ask your father for his blessing to marry you. (Modern AU , Bit OOC) | 3.3K |

Warnings: Slight Violence, Death , Mostly Fluff

He knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. While he sat in his main office, taking a rare break, he was staring at the engagement ring he brought a month ago. Nobody knew except for him, despite Polly having some suspicion. It made him feel giddy on the inside, lovesick, but it was the one thing he was sure of, that he truly wanted. You.

He was sure and trusted you more than anyone. He knew you loved him, but there was always that fear in the back of his head that he wasn’t good enough for you. He’d enjoyed you for this long in his life that any second it could be taken away. His heart was the one thing he was willing to take a risk on because he only found solace with you. It was all the little moments that added up and floated to his mind, that ended up making him come to the conclusion.

The night he first met you, you were having drinks in the Scarfes bar in London with Ada and mutual acquaintances. The group of you talking about an upcoming weekend trip you were planning to take and the woes of university life a second time through. You were yourself the whole evening, even when he came to disrupt the conversation stealing Ada away to talk quick business. As he watched you interact with his sister and your group of friends for the remainder of the evening, he noticed the confidence that rolled off your shoulders, the laughter that left your mouth, and the way you said a simple goodnight to him on the way out the building.

He knew he had to meet you again. It wasn’t hard when he would drop by Ada’s unexpectedly or find a way to sit next to you when the lot of them went out to drink at the Garrison or Bars in London. He learned little things about you observing you through those conversations. How sometimes you would sit quiet and observe the conversation from time to time. When you spoke, you spoke with purpose. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind either.

You played hard to get, like a game of cat and mouse. You were stubborn and strong-willed. When he first asked out you, you were shocked to say the least. You knew about the legitimate parts of his business, only hearing tall tales of the rest, but it didn’t make you not believe the underground side, but cautioned it. You heard rumors of his reputation of him screwing women over just to get what he wanted and the hotel he would go to get his sexual desires met.

Those should have been red flags, but on the other side he was a high esteem family business man and OBE. You couldn’t deny how good looking he was and the chemistry you felt between your small encounters. You denied him the first two times as you were a busy graduate student and worked part time. You were also still heartbroken from your last long-term relationship, not looking to start up something new. Tommy Shelby was relentless, never taking no for an answer. It was on the third try that you said yes to him, promising him one date. To not mess it up.

The first date was smooth. He invited you to his cozy London apartment. Where you were served Spaghetti Bolognese and warm toasted garlic bread. He drank Whiskey, you red wine. Frank Sinatra playing through his record player. You shared tidbits about your childhood and university years. He shared about the hard questions you asked him about his business, wanting to hear what you thought you knew. He shared appropriately (not dishing family business or current dealings), finding it amusing. You asked what he did for fun, to which he responded with work. Both you letting out a chuckle. The conversation flowed so easily between the two of you. He drove you home a quarter to midnight and kissed you goodnight.

He was hooked by the third date, things taking off slow as you were both busy people. Both working hard to achieve the goals you wanted to accomplish in this life. Both struggling with trust issues and hang-ups from past relationships or lack thereof on his end. Those first couple of months was blissful, being in the depths of the honeymoon phase.

At six months you had officially met all his family and closest mates. They adored you and were fond of your relationship with him, noticing the small change in him, that they hadn’t seen since he’d been back from the war. He would make space for you in his office to complete your studies and you’d make room in your apartment for him to relax on the odd weekend off with reading in your living room, breakfast in bed, or cuddling in the morning after a passionate night together.

You were nervous for him to meet your family as they were more traditional than his. He charms your mother as soon as he steps foot in your house. Feeding in charmingly to her mannerisms and jokes. Your father was harder to crack. You knew your father would give him a hard time. Your father played up to the best of his ability in front of your mother, but your father asked to speak to him in private. Where they discussed his business, your safety, and the seriousness of the relationship because if it was to be a waste of time, he should just cut the losses now. Thomas reassured your father well. When you asked what the two of them discussed, he simply said, “Nothing for your pretty little head to worry about.” You left it at that.

He knew deep down for a long time, that he loved you, afraid to say those words, even though he knew five months in.

It was eight months in on a quiet afternoon spent in your apartment. He was doing book-work at the table, collecting a stock pile of smokes in his ashtray, letting out stressful grumbles of frustration, every now and again. You were reading on the couch, sometimes sneaking small glances at him but eventually becoming restless from the silence and being indoors all day. You decided to make both of you a tea and as you sipped your tea across from him at the kitchen table, you spoke those words out into the open. You watched as his pen stopped writing, his eyes coming to meet yours. You could see the smirk on his lips and the light blush that caught his cheeks.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr.Shelby.” You teased, as you both finished the rest of your teas in silence. He lit another cigarette, knowing that you didn’t need him to voice it aloud, as you knew in your heart through the little things he did. As you stood to get up to clean the empty dishes and empty his tray, he rose to stand in front of you. Hands grabbing your biceps, warm breath coming to your ear.

“I love you too, (Y/N).” He whispered, removing his right hand to clasp against the back of your head, deciding to connect his warm lips to yours. Moving slow, delicate, and in sync. He pulls apart, the small smack of wet lips, leaving you both panting. He goes to his seat at the table to finish the final paperwork, not missing the tint in your cheeks and the lasting grin for the remainder of the evening.

After a year together you still had to watch out for Lizzie, which at first did turn into a heated argument between you and him. Due to your jealousy and slight insecurity that would feed off her jealousy toward you. They had a past together, one neither of you could deny, evening knowing he didn’t treat her the greatest in that regard. The way she would sometimes pine after him, would make your blood boil, knowing it kinda fed his ego. He would love to get you ramped up to have hot heated sex. Where he would remind you you were the only one he loved and was sleeping with.

This was an underlying “game” of the relationship, one you both fed on. Tommy being possessive of what was his and being silently jealous of men who would be fixated or try to flirt with you, some even right in front of his face. He would use his words to defend you or if you were oblivious, he would give you the silent treatment, which would annoy you to no end. If you started it which on occasion you did, (he could tell), you would enjoy being at his mercy as soon as you walked through the doors him fucking you hard until the early morning hours.

Other times, with other women, who were enamored by him, he would wash those fears away by reminding you, you were the one he would seek in the middle of the night to hold him close to sleep, the only thing on his mind during a long day, and the one he loved.

You started helping him once a week at the company, with the books as you had an eye for crunching numbers and were detail oriented a bit more than a few others in the office. It made some of his work go faster when you were in the office, only handling the legal side of things, not wanting to involve you with the other half that came with it. That didn’t last much longer.

Year and half you were slowly beginning to see more of the other side of the business. You knew he was in the middle of something, when you started to notice him coming home more often in bloody clothing, late mid-morning hours. He would sneak inside quietly as possible, thinking you were asleep, but you weren’t. You’d hear the shower running for a while for him to slip in next to you in bed. One night you would ask, if things were getting bad in his dealings. He would answer truthfully but not about whom he was dealing with. You started finishing up university with a security guard that would escort you wherever you went. He taught you how to shoot a gun which you only encased in your bedside table, for emergency use. You learned to only ask questions when need be and to try to worry less, enough though you both knew it wasn’t possible.

On that unexpected day, everything almost came to a screeching halt. He was in the middle of a battle with Sabini. He told you to make sure you were with security at all times and that he made sure there was someone outside your place at all times. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the scuffle and then a bang, but it was too late as another person came breaking into your bedroom, screaming for you to get out of the bed. You didn’t have time to react before he was shoving a gun in your face, telling you to be quiet, as they rushed out to the getaway car. Your eyes not missing the pool of blood you found your security guard in. They blind folded you and you remained silent the whole way as they made a call to their boss, who organized this whole ordeal, letting him know you were in transport.

When you got to the basement where they were holding you, they tied your legs and arms to a chair. It smelt musky down below and it was loud. They spit on, mocked, and slapped you around, all to send a message. You tried your best to stay calm, knowing Tommy would find you.

“He’s here, get ready.” You heard one of the men say. The next you knew they were moving you to another room, leaving you in the dark. Then there were gunshots firing off and loads of yelling. Then to be met with silence. It felt like forever until you heard that familiar voice again.

“I’m right here (Y/N), I’m right here.” He reassures as he frees your arms and legs from the chair, to then take the blindfold off. You collapse into his arms sobbing, as he carries you to the back seat of his car, making sure you don’t see any of the bloodshed.

When you arrive at his home, you’re in a state of shock and silent. He has the maids begin a bath and after your bath, he has the doctor check you out. The doctor bandages you and gives you something to help you fall asleep.

The next couple of weeks were rough, not only for you but for your relationship. You told Tommy everything that happened when you woke up the next day, while he held you in his arms. Both of you teary together. You stayed at his place for a couple of days, as he made sure to do damage control in the media and town, and clean your apartment back to normal.

During the night you were plagued with nightmares about your security guard and the men roughing you up, with Tommy never actually coming to save you or ending with you dying. A week after the incident you went to the security guard’s funeral. After that, you were beginning to push Tommy away, telling him you needed space.

Your mind trying to make sense of the madness, grappling with those hard questions, while trying to stay on top of your coursework. You didn’t want to see anyone really, even avoiding your own parents for weeks on end. The only place you would willingly go would be to uni and a few counseling sessions, just to get yourself back on track, which did end up helping you.

The only Shelby you spoke to during this time was Ada, periodically. You two were friends from the start and grew even closer due to your relationship with Tommy. She wouldn’t talk about him unless you brought him up, which wasn’t much. You both knew he was just as much a mess as you were, but both dealing with it in different manners. She helped you in a different way of opening up your frustrations, worries, and fears.

Tommy tried his hardest not to be a mess during this time but it was hard. He drove himself harder into his company and would spend his nights drinking. He knew you were okay, as could be, as he still kept tabs on you. For the first month he would leave you voicemails, some sober, some drunk of the inner workings of his mind and heart, but he really did miss you. You listened to them, wanting nothing more than to pick up the phone and call him.

Then the next month, you left him a voicemail, asking him for more time. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you told him at the end of the month, you would give him a final answer. You loved him, missed him, and wanted to see him just as bad.

There was this small voice in your head that was telling you cut your losses, to go your separate ways. You knew you had to make a hard decision and a decision you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

It was on the third month, when you both met again, at a little cafe by the Thames river. When you saw him, it almost felt like it was the first time all over again. You sat down taking in his appearance. He was wearing his glasses and was in casual clothing. He looked good for the most part, expect for the bags under his eyes, knowing you were part of the reason for them.

“Thank you for meeting me here.” You sent a small smile his way, as the waiter arrived with tea and your favorite pastry. Heart warming that he still cared to remember.

“So, what are we doing here (Y/N)?” His voice is cold, as he lights his smoke.

“I.. um, I just wanted to talk, to explain myself, as i’ve made a decision.” You plead, staring into his hard eyes.

“You had these past two months to talk, to explain yourself. Now we’re here having tea waiting for you to share this decision you have come to. So let’s just get on with it eh!” You just sip your tea, not allowing his harshness to roll over you, knowing you slightly deserved it, but also he was masking his hurt on the one person that really did hurt his heart.

“Gosh, Tommy you’re such a dick!” You growl, before continuing. “At the end of the day I still want to be with you. I still love you.” You stare at his face, watching how his demeanor changes. He slightly softens out, but is still a bit in this guardish state.

“Are you sure you know about this? What about if something happens to you again?”

“Yes, I promise. These past two months haven't been easy. I’ve missed you and there wasn’t a day I didn't think about you. I needed to take care of myself and get my mind straight, to really think about if this life that you live is what I wanted. I don’t know what to do with the what if’s, but I know you will do anything to protect me. You saved me, that day.” You reach your hand into his calloused one, missing his touch.

“I know they haven’t been easy. I’m sorry you had to go through all this. I’ve missed you just as much. I know I did save you love. I would do it a thousand times again.” He squeezes your hand gently before going to finish his second cup of tea. The both you sitting in silence enjoying the moment and looking out over the river.

“Okay.” He speaks out of the blue, catching your attention, from the children running around on the sidewalk.

“Okay what, Mr.Shelby.” You tease gently, as he pulls your chair out for you, helping you put on your winter coat and beanie.

“I love you (Y/N). Thank you.” His warm hands cup your soft cheeks, the pads of his thumbs, rubbing tiny circles on the skin under your eyes. His blue eyes gazing lovingly into yours as he seals your lips together, that somehow mends all the broken pieces together in the both of you. This was a chance to move forward. You ended up spending the night at his house, waking up with him by your side in the morning. Things weren’t magically better but were still things to work on, but it was worth it.

Two years in you bought your first house together out in the country in Birmingham. You graduate college yet again with your master’s, getting a full time job in your field. Your job also helps in building connections with the company. The company was on a bit of a slow period, as Tommy was working on new ventures.

After attending a few engagement parties, weddings, baby showers, and listening to yet another marriage conversation you were having with your mum, unintentionally, he knew you were slowly becoming antsy. Even though you tried not to show it, but once in a while would drop subtle hints about the subject. He already knew that morning he woke up after the Thames River day, that he wanted to marry you because he couldn’t think of the thought of you slipping through his fingers again.

He knew it was finally time to ask for your hand in marriage, but first he had to speak with your father, who was still trying to forgive him, from the incident that occurred. Your father had also grown to see him, like a son. Though neither would say or admit it aloud.

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sleepypeaky · 4 years

Text

now i’ve found you

finn shelby x male reader

request: male!reader, who is Tommy's assistant, is pretty sure he's straight. but he ends up falling for one of the shelby brothers (your choice!). insert gay crisis, and potentially tommy/aunt polly/ada being supportive?

w/c: 1,363

a/n: i love this headcannon so much thank you. i know i do finn for everything but i thought this would work the best and also i love him so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ note that john is alive because im in deep denial. i know i went for a heavier take on this than i could have, but i think it works. also yes i ripped that scene right out of the DA movie. i hope i did the mlm a good. #wlwmlmsolidarity

this is 1928 ish so finn is 20 and so is the reader

this is very obviously way more fully formed than any of my other fics but its tuesday and i have nothing to do so

Ada Thorne had always looked out for you. So when she managed to get you a job working for her brother, you knew you would be safe. Now you hurried up the steps and knocked on a large heavy wooden door, which opened presently to a sitting room where you awaited your new boss.

Ada held the phone to her ear.

“Listen,” she said. “I have a lad who needs a safe place to work. He’s smart and capable and before you say anything, no, he’s not a spy.”

Tommy silently acknowledged the last part with approval. “Ok, but protection from what?”

Ada looked over her shoulder, making sure none of the others in the house were about. She sighed, “I know this means little to you, but he -lets put it this way- doesn’t fancy the ladies. And life is hard enough for people like him without having to worry about being kicked out of work for something that’s no one’s goddamn business.”

“As you said, this lad’s private life is moot to me, but if you can vouch for his work ethic and loyalty, i’ll give him a try.”

“You must be (y/f/n), nice to meet you.” Tommy shook your hand and led you into his office.

“My sister talks very highly of you, and she is quite possibly the only honest person i know.” He offered you a chair and lit himself a cigarette.

“So, the job is simple enough. I need an assistant, the most recent of which, is my wife, who can’t very well be working for me anymore.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Well I have two years of university to my name so I hope I can be useful.”

Tommy chuckled, “Well you are more qualified than any other man here lad, and it’s probably smart to get some new young blood on the company.”

You smiled, “Thank you sir.”

He motioned you to follow him out of the room and into a smaller one just off it.

“This is your office, across the hall-” He motioned behind him through the door, where directly adjacent was another room, “-Is my cousin Michael’s office, he is the account handler so to speak.”

“Now,” He turned back to you, “There is the matter of this.”

He placed a pistol and a handful of ammunition onto the desk between you.

“You know how to shoot son?’

You looked concernedly at the weapon casually lying on the table,

“No sir.”

“Well, hopefully you wont ever need to use this but it seems to be company policy, never can be too careful. I’ll have someone teach you.”

You thanked him and placed the items in a desk drawer.

“If you’ll follow me, i’ll give you the rundown of the company,” he said. “I’ve got some time and I need to wrangle up some people.”

You followed him out the door and through a series of buildings where different operations took place. At one point, you walked into a sort of yard-warehouse area.

Beginning from a distance and gradually growing louder, you could hear ‘duck!’ ‘hit!’ ‘shift!’ etc..

All was explained when you and Tommy turned the corner.

In a roped off section of the cement yard were two very handsome young men. Both boxing and both, seemingly to vex you on your first day, shirtless.

“That’s Bonnie and Finn, don’t mind them.” Tommy commented off-hand.

He turned left and walked into another building, leaving you just enough time to glance back at the two shirtless men, before ducking in after him.

After Tommy had introduced you the Charlie and Curly, he led you back to the office and then said he had to run, and you could start filing the stack of papers on his desk.

You went right to work, and before long, had forgotten the time completely.

~~~~

You were in a filing induced trance when a noise took you out of it.

The noise turned out to be the door opening.

“Oh hi.. i didn’t know anyone was in here..” The boy stammered.

You looked up to see on of the boys from the boxing ring, taken slightly by surprise, you fumbled out from behind the desk to introduce yourself.

“Sorry to surprise you, hi i’m (y/n), Mr. Shelby’s new assistant.” You held out your hand and he shook it.

“I’m Finn,” he stumbled “Tommy’s brother.” he released your hand.

“Can I help you with anything?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Well I thought I’d find my brother here but i guess i’ll see him later.”

In a hasty fashion he held up a hand as a brief farewell, and scurried out of the room.

You sighed and cursed silently to yourself.

Out of all the people he could have been, why my boss’s brother.

~~~~

Like no time at all, the weeks and months seemingly flew past. You had become acquainted with everyone and felt like you had finally found your place. There were, of course, still some aspects with which you couldn’t fit in just the same as any other.

“Oi, you’re a good looking lad! Why don’t you come along with us tonight. Get some drink and find a girl, Birmingham’s best!” Arthur wheezed.

“That’s not saying much, but do come along mate!” John followed up. Giving you a friendly slap on the back.

You smiled,

“Thanks,” You gave john a man-pat on the shoulder, “But i got some work to finish here.”

“Suit yerself.” And they were gone.

You sighed with relief. You knew you’d have to go someday, but right now you couldn’t handle the idea of,,,that.

A few minutes later ,you heard a knock on the door and Finn entered, holding two crystal glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“i heard you skipped goin’ to the Garrison with the others so i thought i’d bring some to you.”

He placed the things down on your desk and sat on the chair opposite you.

“You’re a life-saver! thank you.” you exclaimed.

Finn chuckled, pouring you a glass and handing it over,

“Yeah, it’s not really my scene either.”

You hummed, taking a sip and savoring it quickly in your mouth. You wondered, a stupid thing to do, if it wasn’t his scene for the same reasons as you. Though the more you got to know him. You suspected.

Suspicions are a dangerous thing. Especially ones that are led by the heart, and are ever so biased on your own happiness. Nevertheless, a week or so later from that night, you popped in to tell Finn, with perhaps too much certainty,

“You know, I think I know a place you might enjoy.”

~~~~

London always induced a joyous feeling inside you. Not that you had only fond memories from living there -far from it- but there was something about a city where the air wasn’t 80% coal soot.

You and Finn got off the train and made your way to Ada’s house. It was always a delight to be in her presence. Especially because you owed her so much, in fact, probably you owed her your life in so may ways.

After tea, and insisting that you had to make your way to a surprise spot, you and Finn made your way into the night.

Through a maze of mews and side-streets, down alleys and cracks you led him.

“I know i grew up in small heath,” He said at one point, when you were in a particularly funky alley. “but where the hell are you taking me?”

“Trust me.” you assured him.

You both came out of an alley and into a small courtyard-like space. You brushed off your clothes a little and knocked on a door in the dark brick wall.

A little notch opened up and you whispered the password. the door swung open.

“Hello Love!” The doorman said, “ ‘aven’t seen you ‘round here for a long time!”

You greeted the man back and made apologies. Presently, you went inside, leading Finn behind you.

Inside was an immaculate ballroom filled with people. Jazz music was pouring from the stage at the far end of the room. But as Finn looked around more, he started thinking that something was off.

When he realized he froze.

All the people dancing, all the paired up couples, were men. Some dressed lavishly and others in plain working clothes. some with curled mustaches and some with cheeks of rouge and powdered skin.

Finn couldn’t believe his eyes.

He saw for the first time, a pair of men dancing hand in hand with wild smiles on their faces. Laughing, singing along.

Finn couldn’t move, nor could he take his eyes off the sights around him.

He felt your presence next to him,

“Was i right to bring you here?” You asked.

He turned his head to face you, he was quivering. He looked you in the eyes, eyes that were lined with tears.

“I had no idea,” He whispered,

“I had no idea there were others.”

Your heart ached for him in a way that only those like them know. You knew what he felt, the wonder, the pain, the confused elation.

You took his hand,

“There are.”

You slowly pulled him to the dance floor.

The music had gotten slower, and the dancing changed to a sort of swaying four-step.

You took his other hand first, letting him go at his own pace, but soon you were as close as the others on the floor. both of you had a hand on the others waist.

Finn looked around again, at all the other people, eyes all closed and heads close. He turned back to you and moved even closer. He brought his lips up to your ear,

“Thank you.” He whispered. He kept his cheek at yours, you felt his hands on your back.

He moved his head slowly so he could look at you again, it was such that your foreheads touched. Your heart beat slow, but hard. You whispered

“Can i kiss you?”

His eyes flicked up to yours before looking down again and moving his lips to yours.

It was ever so soft, barely even there. But it was there, and that was beyond anything Finn had ever felt or imagined before. He closed his eyes and kissed harder this time, and from beneath his eyelids came small lines of tears. The release of an unseen, unknown burden that he had carried for so long.

All you felt was warmth. And the ballroom surrounding you disappeared. You were on a different plane of being, the jazz music still crooned, muffled.

All there was was him, and for him all there was was you.

~~~~

Epilogue

Finn stood outside the opaque glass of the door. And in the irony of psychology, he had never felt more confident about what he was going to do.

He opened the door to Tommy’s office.

“Hello Finn.” He said from behind the desk, cigarette smoking from his lip.

Finn went right up and took a seat across from his brother.

“I’m a homosexual.” He declared, his gaze unwavering despite the magnanimity of his previous statement.

Tommy took the cigarette from between his lips and put it out.

“Well then.” He reached over and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pouring two glasses and sliding one over to Finn. He took a sip.

“Why are you telling me now?”

“Because I’m in love with (y/n).” He replied casually, taking himself a swig.

Tommy raised his brow, but made no other physical impression of surprise.

“Well then.” He said again.

Finn sat there in the silence of Tommy’s company. Surprised, and at the same time not, at his reaction.

Tommy got up from his seat and made his was around the desk. Finn stayed where he was. In an act so small, and yet untellingly powerful, tommy placed a hand of finns shoulder, and kept it there.

“How will the others find out?”

They found out at a family meeting a month later, when, a new agenda item was introduced.

For a while after, there was silence.

John, being john, broke it with,

“Falling for a secretary huh?” he chuckled, “that seems more like something i’d do.”

That lightened the tension. Amid the other items on the list, Finn leaned over to Ada, who sat on his right.

“Tell me,” He asked quietly to her, “did you know?”

She breathed a moment, finding the words to use.

“I knew you had more on your mind than we could ever know.”

Finn looked back ahead, letting her words sink into his mind. Her hand rested on his knee with quiet warmth and reassurance.

~~~~ You waited outside the meeting room until the rest of them filed out. Finn was the last, and when he appeared you gave him a quick peck on the lips, and held his hand, walking together out of the building.

#wow im so tired #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x male!reader #male reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x male!reader #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #ada thorne #gay peaky blinders #mlm

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f-117-nighthawk · 3 years

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Playlist Update Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 2! Here lies Endless War, Dystopian Fiction, and Filaments. EW hasn’t changed much, DF has a bit and it's all INFECTED's fault, and Filaments has more than three songs finally. My explanations for these aren't quite as fleshed out (partially bc there's less in my head to flesh out with and partially because these aren't nearly as set in playdough as the main playlist. more like set in syrup)

Part One

In chronological order:

Endless War

Dark Matter is here because it always is, twining through everything else.

(Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/You’re a bolt of lightning in the sky now/Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/I’ve pulled you in, nowhere to hide now)

I Am the One links into Eater of Worlds as sort of the aftermath, sort of during Apocalypse 1992. Our Fifth General has her realization about [REDACTED] far, far before Team Voltron does because she’s there in the thick of it during Through Apocalypse Skies.

(I am the one/I hold the dreams from fallen heroes)

(We are gods, we are monsters/We create to devour/Not for love but for power/What’s a life worth in the end?)

(From the caves beneath Dundee/Ancient hermit arrives/A messenger to the war in the stars/Korviliath is nigh!)

The Truth Beneath the Rose is from the perspective of our last (and first) Blade in the aftermath of Through Apocalypse Skies, as she realizes just what she helped create. Also… kinda connects to a song in the main playlist, but not very obviously.

(Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast/It is the darker side of me/The veil of my dreams deceived that I have seen/Forgive me for what I have been, forgive me my sins!)

Raise Your Banner is The Fifth General’s newfound resolve as she starts collecting allies against Zarkon’s empire.

(Wake up/I’m defying you, seeing right through you, once I believed in you/Wake up/Feel what’s coming deep within we all know)

Obey is a bit of a weird one. It’s in the same vein as You Keep What You Kill in the main playlist, but it’s more specifically about the creation of the first Druids and how Haggar uses them against the Fifth General and her team.

(Obey, we're gonna show you how to behave/Obey, it's nicer when you can't see the chains)

Silver Moonlight is cracks forming in The Fifth General’s new set of alliances and her desperate and occasionally rash attempts to get them to believe in her goal. Not just the main one to take down the empire, but the one that will allow them to do that.

(I’m impatient, but it’s colors that I need/Too many shades of grey, I cannot breathe/The dreams I have ain’t tainted, I need you to believe/The only way to make them real, oh)

Endless War is the title track, connected to Holy Ground and I’d Rather Burn as a specific event but also sort of encompassing the Fifth General’s motivations throughout the series. She’s “hunting a miracle” that is also those colors from Silver Moonlight, and then the end of Endless War kicks in with Holy Ground, and the Fifth General’s final stand in I’d Rather Burn.

('Cause you’re fighting an endless war/Hunting a miracle/And when you reach out for the stars/They just cut you down/…/Is it worth dying for?/Or are you blinded by, blinded by it all?)

(You got inside my head, I want you out/'Cause I’ve been betrayed on holy ground)

(Won’t let you take my soul away/I’d rather go to the stake/I’d rather burn)

Empty Eyes is [long spoiler beep]. (and yes! I found it on Spotify finally!)

(I don’t know where I’m going/In search for answers/I don’t know who I’m fighting/I stand with empty eyes/You’re like a ghost within me/Who’s draining my life/It’s like my soul is see-through/Right through my empty eyes)

Dystopian Fiction

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects. Especially by the end… and of course, the Thing that is Wrong With Earth.

(Don’t stop, don’t think/Move up, don’t blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don’t breathe when you take your aim)

The Human Condition is the Éskhayklos manifesto. A warning of the end times. The condemnation of the parasites. The reveal of the only cure. The final extinction cycle. Also their new image song, as Cross the Line got moved.

(We have the cure for the disease/Locked down inside us/When all is dead, then we will see/We are the virus)

INFECTED is the Éskhayklos’s slow, well, infection of the Sol Federation, and their descent into full-blown terrorism. (And yes, I know the actual lyrics have ‘he’. Shhhhhh. It’s a STARSET song, it’s about a Shirogane, even if it’s sort of from Cascade’s POV)

(Here's a challenge for all mankind/The preacher man is warning of the end times/The weatherman agrees but she don't know/So she's got to go now)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist.

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I’m still alive)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! But here it’s also in conjunction with Cross the Line as the final Éskhayklos mission before...

(Codebreaker can’t you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. They’re fighting for something that, at that point, must seem like ‘superstition.’ And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon. Even if he does, technically, get shot down.

(I’m a dead man/In the wasteland/I’m a soldier fighting for superstition/Under searchlights/In the long nights/We’ve been written like dystopian fiction)

World on Fire and The Reckoning are the two of their subset that make it over here because they’re the two that happen before the result of This is a Call can come to fruition, and are more focused on our Earth heroes anyway.

(Sent by forces beyond salvation/There can be not one sensation)

(We’re all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is still in flux but does have way more solid than it did. Like, you know, most of an ending. I just don’t really know how they get from A to B yet.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s… a little hard to explain without giving away the entire plot but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Cosmic Vertigo and Louder Than Words.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that’s holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don’t leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is its eponymous fic.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home…)

And then we get to the new part. Know that stuff in Carry Me Home about “The record skip that only [Keith and Krolia] can remember”? Yeah, Prognosis is a huge step to figuring that out.

(How long is the body beholden?/How long 'til we run out of road?/Deep down in the black of the ocean/Fading from the glow)

The timey-wimey ball gets tossed around more in Blackstar. Partially due to [REDACTED] and a certain terrorist’s reemergence, but also due to Prognosis-related stuff

(They'll let you try/To reverse everything/Don't waste your time/Sing Hallelujah 'cause you can't change anything)

Eon straight-up plays Calvinball with the timey-wimey ball and gets the Paladins stuck in a groundhog-day situation, and the only way out? Isn’t good.

(If time's a song, I won't wait for its reprise/I am done wishing farewells and goodbyes)

The Art of War and Centigrade are the beginning of the end. The Art of War is Cascade finally showing his true colors, and the Sol Federation not having a good time. Centigrade is the other side of it, Team Voltron having a realization of just what they’re going to need to do.

(I can remember all the days of violence/I can remember all the days they fought for rights/When men united all by fear and interest/I mustered them with hopeful promises I've broken)

(What did you hope to find adrift and lost in time?/Is this the end ready to begin?/It's time to escape the fate of destruction, excavating within until salvation/No longer pretend the future's a lie from a past you cannot hide)

The Future is Now and A Theater of Dimensions are. Well. You’ll see. It’s a little hard to pick a lyric from AToD, I'll say that much.

(They said there was no way/But they forgot the black hole in the sky/Yesterday is nothing/I have half a life to rewrite)

(I’ve seen our freedom in the mist of time/The old signs I’ll follow and the day of relief will be yours and mine)

And then there’s Afterlife. Fitting to end on a UtA song, after everything, especially since The Immortal has repeatedly throughout DM been a metaphor for Voltron. Also fitting that it’s this one, considering the parallels between the end of The Immortal’s story and Filaments

(But with such power, think how you could rule/Hold to your promise to watch over those in despair/Why would you choose to serve when you could be master of all?/Be true to your honour and fight for a world that is fair!/Out of shadow, out of darkness, welcome to the light/As the day shines boldly over night/Follow me to finally be who you are inside/Open wide, embrace the afterlife)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #long post #at least this time was only an hour and a half?#dm playlists

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dreams-of-kalopsia · 3 years

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Before the Flowers Bloom Again

Summary: It was the greatest irony of her life, the most elaborate prank in all the universe and its alternate realities combined. Pidge was the one who had suffered from years of unrequited love, and yet it was Lance who had flowers blooming in his lungs. In a universe where Hunk never pushed Lance to ask Allura out and where Honerva atoned for her sins by saving all realities with Voltron instead of Allura, there existed a rare disease that blossomed more beautifully the closer it grew towards death.

A @plancesecretsanta 2020 fic for @sakarrie. Merry Christmas! Here’s your Pidge-centric angsty fic ^u^

Read it on AO3.

----

It was always the most mundane days that end up becoming the worst ones. They turn bad in an instant and without warning, like an electrical switch for disaster: one flick of circumstance, and suddenly all the lightbulbs in your brain are flashing red in alarm.

Pidge’s switch came in the form of a phone call.

“Katie. Med bay, now. Lance collapsed.”

Six words in three sentences, delivered by her mother in two seconds. Her brows furrowed and her heart pounded like it was freefalling from the sky without a jetpack or parachute. She started running in no time.

When they parted for their respective offices just a few hours ago, Lance had cheerfully promised her to bring home pizza for dinner. When she arrived at the med bay, he was already in an Altean cryopod, Coran and Allura urgently working around it while deep in discussion with Mom and the Galaxy Garrison’s in-house doctor.

Confusion blended with Pidge’s worry. Allura and Coran in the Garrison was a natural sight—but that was before they became the Queen and Royal Advisor of Altea three years ago. Why did the two most important people of their planet have to personally deliver and set up a cryopod when even humans could operate it?

“What’s happening?” she asked to announce her presence.

Everyone visibly stiffened. Four pairs of eyes darted in her direction, troubled expressions barely smoothened out of their faces. Her already furrowed brows creased further.

“Oh, Katie...” Mom approached with hurried steps and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. He visited my lab to ask about a flower. I didn’t know he was sick or that the flower came from his lungs until he started coughing and collap—”

“Wait, wait,” Pidge interjected. She was used to processing a barrage of data in a matter of seconds, but this particular information just… bounced right off of her brain.

Flowers?

Coming from the lungs?

And Lance, her husband whom she sees every day, sick?

She felt so lost and disoriented. “Can someone explain from the beginning?” She looked expectantly over her mother’s shoulders at the other three, but they merely exchanged uneasy glances.

Doctor Calvo cleared his throat. “We were actually hoping you would be the one to tell us when the symptoms started,” he said. “Commander McClain must have been sick for long enough that flowers obscure his lungs on imaging tests.”

Expectant gazes returned to her fourfold, and shame crept up her face. Because she couldn’t tell them anything about her own husband’s condition. As much of a genius as Pidge was, she couldn’t retain information she never knew existed. And as far as she knew, aside from his occasional sick jokes, Lance himself hadn’t been sick ever.

“I uh… I didn’t… know he was sick, either.” She lowered her eyes towards the cryopod. Lance’s face could hardly be seen through the Altean blue viewing window and the short distance that separated the two of them. He was the only person who could shed light on this whole situation, but he lay unconscious in a frozen state as if to keep everyone else in the dark.

Why and how did he manage to keep her of all people from noticing anything? For some reason, apprehension seized her at the thought of finding out. So she focused instead on getting answers for the ‘what’. The technical aspects were at least easier to digest.

Pidge pulled away from her mother and turned to her Altean space family. If anyone would have a clue on what kind of disease had afflicted Lance, it would definitely be Coran. Besides, they wouldn’t be here if neither he nor Allura knew.

They wouldn’t be regarding her with sad eyes if the disease could easily be treated with a short stay in the trusty Altean cryopod.

“Tell me,” she said quietly, preparing herself for the bomb that was sure to drop.

It took some time for Coran to give an explanation. “The Meskans, the first species to be infected, call it the Kada Disease.” His usually jovial voice mellowed with an apologetic tone. She chose to ignore it in favor of obtaining more information. It wasn’t his fault, anyway.

“The Meskans? From Meskar, the—”

“—host planet for the Fourth General Assembly of the Universal Union we all attended, yes.”

But that was more than half a year ago.

Pidge’s eyes widened. Seeing her reaction, Coran and Allura nodded gravely. Mom squeezed her hand in concern.

“I’m afraid my knowledge of this rare disease is limited to what I’ve seen of a colleague way back in the day.”

“…What happened to that colleague?” she forced herself to ask.

Allura released a heavy breath. “Gravia, Father’s ambassador to Meskar at the time, had fallen in love with a Meskan during her stay in the planet. Unfortunately, the feeling was not mutual, and she returned to Altea with a broken heart. She developed the disease soon after that…” she trailed off then sent over a meaningful look, like she expected Pidge to understand everything from that sad story.

Pidge couldn’t, though.

It was possible that the disease just happened to manifest after the Altean went home. It probably had a long incubation time, or other extrinsic and intrinsic factors had influenced its development. Temporality didn’t always equate to causality. “You couldn’t possibly think that Gravia actually died of a failed romance, right?” she asked in disbelief.

The silence and increasingly pained expressions were answer enough, but the answer wasn’t one she wanted.

Her fingertips turned cold and clammy as her mind rebelled against her instinct urging her to accept the validity of what she’d just heard.

“Perhaps its more popular name would help convince you,” Coran finally said. “Florescent Cough, the disease of unrequited love.”

The cold spread from her hands and chilled her blood. Her gaze dropped to the cryopod that encased Lance.

No way.

This had got to be the greatest irony of her life, the most elaborate prank in all the universe and its alternate realities combined.

She was the one who had suffered from years of unrequited love, and yet it was her husband who had flowers blooming in his lungs.

“No way.”

#plancesecretsanta2020 #plance secret santa #sakarrie #merry christmas!#hope you're ok with angst on this joyous day #writings #plance #voltron

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otterknowbynow · 4 years

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Gotcha Day (1/3)

The catalyst for Team Voltron adopting a dog might be an offhand demand from Lance, but let's be real: several of them are very much on board with this plan.

Written as part of Gentron Week 2020 as a combination of the prompts "Adopting a Pet Together" and "Cultural Exchange", in two three parts.

Part 2 Here | Part 3 Here | Also on ao3

“Listen, Kaltenecker needs a puppy friend,” Lance says one evening. Keith blinks and props himself up on his elbows from where he’s been lying on the couch. He turns his head toward where Lance is sitting on the floor, trying to remember if there was any context for this in previous conversation, but he doesn’t think so. All five paladins are in the lounge, which seems to be why Lance has brought it up, despite the fact that he and Pidge are currently deeply engaged in some kind of fighting game with tiny laser-blasting spaceships. If it were a bit more realistic, it might be good flight training for the lions, Keith thinks.

“Does she?” asks Pidge, pressing a few buttons in such quick succession that Keith has no idea what they were. Glancing at the screen, he’s not sure what they did, either.

“Of course she does,” Lance says, not looking up from the screen in front of him. His fingers still moving rapidly on the controller in his hands, he continues. “Who among us has experience with bovine needs? Me, I do. Who among us can read her body language and tell you what those needs are? Me, I can. Therefore, I can tell you: she needs a puppy friend.”

“And this would have nothing to do with you wanting a puppy for yourself,” Keith says flatly, sitting up all the way now. This might be interesting.

“Definitely not,” Lance agrees, sticking his tongue halfway out of his mouth and holding his controller to one side as his ship on the screen executes some kind of quick maneuver around Pidge’s.

“I don’t think it’s a terrible idea,” Shiro says mildly from a couch across the way. He’s still looking down at whatever he’s been reading on his tablet. Keith isn’t sure if it’s the tone in Shiro’s voice that gives him away or if he’s just remembering all the times he heard Shiro talk about getting a dog back at the Garrison, but it sure seems like he thinks it’s a better idea than just not terrible.

“You planning on raising this puppy yourself?” Pidge asks skeptically.

“I’m planning on all of us raising this puppy together,” Lance says decisively, and apparently he’s equally decisive in-game, because there’s a trilling victory sound from the screen in front of them and Pidge’s shoulders drop before she hits a few buttons on her controller.

“Rematch,” she says, and Lance nods.

“I don’t know, raising a puppy is a lot of work,” says Hunk thoughtfully. It’s clear his mind is only half on this conversation, though, since he hasn’t looked away from the small white devices in front of him that he’s been working on for the better part of an hour.

“Seems like you should talk to Coran,” says Shiro mildly. “Seems like he’d be best equipped to handle the situation.”

“You don’t think I can handle one puppy?” Lance asks sharply, looking up from the screen for half a second just to direct a glare at Shiro.

“Oh, handling the puppy won’t be the problem.” Shiro grins, and Keith huffs a small laugh to himself.

“Of course it won’t,” says Lance irritably, this time still zipping his little ship around the screen, tongue out to one side again in concentration. “I can handle a puppy in my sleep -- I could handle puppies, plural, in my sleep.” Keith snorts at that, remembering a foster he had who raised a new puppy while he lived there.

“I’m pretty sure sleep loss is part of the deal,” he says before he can stop himself. Not that he would want to -- Lance can’t just be spouting inaccuracies when they’re talking about bringing in a whole-ass animal they’ll be responsible for.

“It’s a figure of speech, pal.” He would probably be more irritated if he weren’t mid-game, but Pidge seems to be gaining the upper hand and all his focus is on that. Shiro clears his throat before continuing.

“What I was saying is that Coran would know where we could go about finding a puppy out here -- in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly in a position to visit the humane society or research a local breeder or anything. Coran could probably figure out where to go and give us some idea of what kind of, uh, dog we could really even hope of finding.”

“That’s fair,” offers Hunk. “We don’t want to end up with some weird alien puppy without even any guidance from someone who’s, like, familiar with at least a reasonable variety of weird alien puppies.”

“You got me there,” says Lance, and Keith is puzzled by the irritation in his tone until he realizes Lance is talking about his match with Pidge, who has dropped her controller and leaned back on her hands swinging her knees a little side to side and looking very pleased with herself.

“I sure did,” she says, grinning. “Best two of three?”

“Definitely.” Lance hasn’t even put his controller down, and waits for her to pick hers up again before apparently starting a rematch. “Anyway -- that makes sense, but as you all can see, I’m occupied, and can’t go ask him, so…?” He trails off, raising his eyebrows, even though he’s still looking determinedly at the screen instead of around at any of them. Keith snorts.

“You expect someone to go running off to talk to him right now?” he asks derisively. Sometimes, it sure does seem like Lance thinks he runs the world.

“Uh, I think someone is,” says Hunk, nodding toward the doorway, where Shiro is standing midstep, looking back at the rest of them with his eyebrows raised, as if he paused only when Keith spoke up.

“Yeah, I’ve got this, guys,” he says. “It seems like I’m the best person to talk to him anyway, considering I’m the --”

“-- fearless leader, space dad, you speak for the trees, et cetera, et cetera,” says Hunk, nodding as he turns back to his work.

“Pretty sure I speak for the trees at this point,” Pidge puts in, fingers still moving quickly over her controls, eyes on the screen.

“I was going to say I’m the responsible adult, but fair enough,” Shiro says, shrugging, and turns back to walk out into the hall, presumably to find Coran.

“Well, okay then,” Keith says softly, and lies down again, since apparently that’s settled.

As they walk into the main hall of the recollection center, Keith has the creeping feeling he’s been here before. It takes him a moment to place it. The decor is different, for one thing: all sleek white couches and light blue accents. But as Coran leads them past several doors with large windows on either side and large signs written in glowing Altean script, it hits him that this place reminds him of the space mall where they found the replacement scaltrite lenses.

“...it’s changed a bit, of course,” Coran is saying as they make their way down the corridor, navigating around small groups of various humanoid and non-humanoid creatures. Most of them are aliens Keith can’t identify, but he does see a few olkari families, and at one point someone who’s clearly a member of Slav’s species. “But the general principles are the same -- I got in touch with my Unilu contacts and they redirected me to the Venri contingent -- ever since the recollection center split off from the original swap moon, they’ve been in charge of running it here -- and they sent the new coordinates.”

“So, what is this place exactly? Where are the dogs?” Lance asks, looking around as if puppies might start spilling out of the doorways around them at any moment.

“It’s not just full of dogs, Lance,” Keith says, shaking his head. “Weren’t you listening when Coran went over all of this? Recollection as in they collect everything living that isn’t where it’s supposed to be and offer it up for trade, like -- like that space mall, apparently, but for things that are like...alive.”

“Essentially, yes!” Coran says enthusiastically, gesturing around them at the whole of the space as they make their way toward the end of the row of storefronts. “Plants and fungi and animals of all sorts, from various corners of the universe, all collected here for redistribution! Apparently as the swap moon became more commercialized, they needed a space like this, one where some more...specialized shopkeepers could maintain living things. They also seem to have kept its location -- and its mere existence -- under wraps, which is especially good for us. We don’t exactly want to advertise to the empire that we’re active in any area they’re in.”

“If they’re trying to keep organisms alive from all sorts of different environments, they’ll need a lot of energy,” Shiro says. Keith glances over at him to see he’s stopped walking, frowning off into the middle distance. “And yet they’re keeping the place a secret? They must have a quintessence supply that’s off the charts.”

“Oh, yes,” says Coran, his own step faltering as he turns to reply. “There’s a whole board of managers whose job it is to keep quintessence coming in and keep everything secret.”

“It’s not that secret, though, if we found out where it is.”

“I -- well, not everyone has the contacts I have!” Coran finishes with a smile, though Keith thinks there’s definitely something forced in his tone. “Besides, that’s why we’ve got the others back at the castle monitoring things from their end. We should be fine.” Shiro nods slowly, still frowning, and they start making their way toward the end of the corridor again.

“Should be,” Keith mutters, following at the back of the group. The whole place feels a bit shiftier than it did before.

“How exactly are we supposed to be setting up some kind of animal nursery when we don’t have any idea what kind of thing they’re going to be bringing back?” Hunk’s question echoes through the open air of the room Allura’s led them into. It’s bare, for the most part, easily the size of a small warehouse, with a ceiling just as high. Katie frowns -- that concern echoes the thoughts she’s been having ever since Coran suggested they prepare for the new arrival. Arrival of what?

“Oh, well, there are things we’ll need no matter what!” Allura says brightly. “And if nothing else, we can start worrying about the basics -- they’ll need light, well, unless they end up with a cave-dweller, and food...unless it’s something that photosynthesizes, in which case we’re back at the light…” She trails off, frowning. “Well, we can start with decor, at least! Pick a color scheme!” Hunk is looking at her blankly, and Katie blinks, realizing she’s doing the same. Shakes it off.

“We can work on putting together a system with adjustable outputs,” she offers, grinning at a relieved Allura. “It’ll be fun,” she continues, bumping against Hunk’s elbow with her shoulder. “Try to figure out what kind of nutrient combinations we can manage in different states of matter -- Allura, do you have any idea of what kind of thing they’re most likely to bring back? If we have a starting point, we could probably actually manage a number of contingencies for different energy sources, feeding behaviors, oxygenation needs…” Allura nods quickly.

“I can get you a list, absolutely. I’m sure there are only four or five species Coran would be comfortable with, although there’s no accounting for the others, and of course we don’t know what the center will have --”

“-- just get us those four or five,” Katie says, looking around the room and trying to imagine how they’ll divide the space. “Hunk, we’re gonna need to start talking construction.”

“As you can see, we have a wide variety of domestic creatures available at the moment, though not many specimens of each.” The Venri staff member leading them through the facility glides across the floor on six neatly-swishing tentacles. She speaks in clean clipped tones, which Keith appreciates for their clarity if nothing else. He’s a bit impressed she can project as loudly as she can considering she barely comes up to his waist, but apparently Venri are small but have mighty lung capacity, or something. In any case, the others seem to be more interested in the fenced-off runs they’re surrounded by, each containing a different sort of creature.

Some of the enclosures have small ponds, or are small ponds, as in the case of one containing some kind of aquatic animal that looks a lot like a bat, or like a bat would if it were scaled instead of furred, with enormous fins instead of wings. Others of the cages look a lot more like ordinary dog runs -- and, to be fair, others of the creatures look a lot more like ordinary dogs. There’s one like a whippy all-black german shepherd in the corner whose eyes keep emitting some kind of pink smoke in little bursts. In one of the stacked cages for smaller creatures that they pass, right at Keith’s eye level, is a group of labrador retrievers in perfect miniature, so small he could hold three of them in the palm of his hand, emitting little play growls as they wrestle with their fellows. He watches them for a while, wondering what it would be like to have a pocket-sized pup, until he realizes the others are halfway across the row of runs, the Venri indicating various creatures as she continues her pitch. He half-jogs over to rejoin them.

“Now, did you all have a particular species in mind? If you’d like, you’re welcome to tell me about your living situation -- whatever it may be -- and I can recommend one for you.” She looks around at the four of them expectantly. Keith looks from Coran to Shiro and back again. It’s definitely not his place to take the lead here. But it’s Lance who jumps in.

“Oh, we’ve got quite a bit of space,” he says airily. “That’s certainly not an issue. We’re hoping to get a puppy who will get along with our cow, maybe give her some companionship, cultivate that interspecies friendship and all that.” The Venri's eyes grow wider and wider as Lance continues. “After all, what’s the point of a dairy cow without a puppy, you know?”

“A...did you say a dairy cow? Where did you say you’re from again?”

“We didn’t,” says Shiro, taking a well-placed step so he’s standing between the Venri and Lance.

“We’re looking for something in the canine category,” says Coran brightly, gesturing toward the row of runs that includes the shadowy german shepherd, now crouching near the front of its run and emitting glittery aqua smoke from its mouth as it looks at them silently with solid black eyes.

“Do you have a particular biome in mind?” The Venri looks up at him expectantly, holding one thin hand over her tablet, ready to type.

“Oh, I rather think --” Coran cuts off suddenly, eyes wide and fixed on one of the runs. Keith follows his eyeline and sees a small furry brown shape curled up in the corner, covered in little white speckles. Whatever the creature is, it’s tucked itself firmly against the wall of its enclosure, so he can’t really discern anything about its shape, nor why it seems to have grabbed Coran’s attention so strongly.

“Coran?” Shiro asks, frowning. Lance, meanwhile, is darting his eyes back and forth between the brown lump and Coran, eyebrows lowered sharply. Keith sees him open his mouth to say something -- probably a strong objection to anyone else getting to pick their puppy -- and knocks into him with his shoulder, muttering a “shush” under his breath. Lance huffs once at him, but shuts his mouth.

“Is that a white-spotted hyrassie?” Coran breathes quietly after what feels like an eternity of silence.

“Oh, absolutely,” says the Venri, and she’s smiling for the first time since they’ve entered the runs.

#gentron week #gentronweek #gentron 2020 #voltron #vld #vld fic #lance (voltron)#keith (voltron)#takashi shirogane #katie holt #hunk (voltron)#coran (voltron)#allura (voltron)#listen: am I throwing character tags on here willy-nilly? maybe so #but the gang's all here!! so #scribbles #anyway I love this family etc etc #expect part two of this on Thursday #tomorrow it's time for a lil introspection time with Blue instead

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 4 years

Text

The Couple Next Door II (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part I Here

A/N: Been a long time coming. I know it’s been literally half a year. I’ve been working through stressful family things, prep for university in the coming fall, spending as much time as I can with my boyfriend before we go our separate ways for a few months, etc.

Stuff just got busy and I am SO sorry I haven’t addressed any of that. I know many of you want part two, and here it is. I don’t know if it’s as good as my other works on here, but the only way to find out is to post it, right?

But anyways, yes, this chapter is here, and it’s kinda a filler. there’ll be more plot development in the next chapter, and I promise, if this part does well, I will not hesitate to post a continuation.

Like I say in my other author’s notes, feedback, and any sort of note, whether it be a reblog, a like, or a comment, is greatly appreciated. it inspires me more to keep writing. So thank you!

Summary: Moving day is here, and you and Roger had the honour of meeting the neighbours across the street, the Garrisons.

(This can be read as Borhap!Roger or IRL Roger. Whatever mows your lawn)

WARNINGS: Swearing, mild sexual content (but NO smut), and zero knowledge of U-Haul History (I know they no longer exist in the UK, but I’m Canadian and I’m too lazy to do any research to make sure the timeline is matched)

Like the previous fic in this series, it’s rated a T for Mature Subject Matter

It was a bright, sunny morning in London (shocking, right?).

The day would have been hot, but the wind chill cooled down the city rather nicely.

Not only was this a wonderful day, but it was moving day.

Roger was pushing the last box of vinyl records into the trunk of his car. He shut the trunk, and huffed a sigh before running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He didn’t remember the last time he’d lifted so much.

He took a minute to catch his breath, two ladies roughly the same age as him, jogging past. He drank in their appearances before winking at one of them and retreating to the apartment in which he and you once resided.

He made his way down the hallway leading to your room, and although he was planning on going to the empty room that once was his own, he figured he could receive the same amount of nostalgia when looking at your now vacant bedroom.

Roger found it so strange– The bare walls and stripped mattress. The empty closet and the unoccupied corners of the room.

“Weird, eh?” Roger asked you, who was simply packing away the last of the books on your shelf. You turned to him, and he leaned against the threshold of your bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest.

You shrugged your shoulders, glancing down at the floor and scratching the back of your head.

“Just a little, yeah.”

Roger playfully pouted at you, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as he entered the bedroom.

He looked around silently, and you went back to shoving your final books into its box before closing it up and labelling the cardboard.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said, frowning at the realization that you’d already slept, ate, showered, cleaned, and cooked for the last time in this apartment.

Roger took immediate notice of your upset tone. “Don’t get all melancholic on me now, y/n,” Roger teased, taking a seat right next to the box you just packed.

“But won’t you?/"

"Miss this place? Of course.” Roger smiled a little. “And Brian will miss us."

”Oh yeah. He’ll definitely miss my awful singing in the shower every morning, and your extremely loud noises when you bring a girl over to bed.“

He just shrugged. "What can I say? I’m not about to fake being unsatisfied, especially when I’m trying to get a girl off."

You shuddered. "I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Roger."

He laughed loudly, rising to his feet and picking up the box of books on your mattress. "Then I don’t wanna hear you complaining about how loud I am in bed."

"You’re making it sound like we fuck,” you crossed your arms accusingly, your face twisting sourly.

“Might as well be. We’re basically a couple.” He turned on his heel and left the room, but not before he sent a teasing wink your way.

You simply shook your head, mumbling “gross” under your breath jokingly and moving to the bathroom to retrieve your remaining possessions in the medicine cabinet.

_____________________________

“Are you sure you don’t need my help, guys? Christine isn’t going to get here for another few hours."

"I think we’re all good, Bri,” Roger assured the tall guitarist, giving him a kind slap on the back.

“But if we do, we’ll give you a ring,” you added, to which Roger smiled. He liked that about you. You were so humble, but weren’t afraid at all to ask for assistance. It was an admiring trait of yours.

“Will do,” Brian confirmed with a grin and a simple nod of his head. You and Roger returned the nod, and walked to the car.

After climbing in, and giving one last look at the apartment building the both you and Roger once called home, he drove you both off to your new humble abode.

____________________________

“We can just put it here,” Roger directed as the both of you lowered the piece of furniture on the floor. When it was set where the both of you wanted it, you plopped down in the chair on the other side of the living room, sighing loudly.

“It was real nice of Christine to give us some of her furniture,” you commented, watching as Roger collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion.

“Well she’s got all Bri’s stuff now, right?"

The question sounded more like a statement, and Roger wasn’t surprised when you didn’t respond.

”… d'ya know what’s left to bring in from the U-Haul?“

"The mattresses and all the boxes from the car, I believe."

Roger groaned, and got to his feet, much to his dismay. "Then we can rest,” he exclaimed with a sigh. You just smiled at the idea, pushed off from your place on the chair, and followed Roger out.

He walked straight towards the moving truck and into the back, where one more box hid with the mattresses, which were now the only things occupying the truck. You, on the other hand, stood at the steps of the condominium, your eyes wandering around the complex.

Roger, who was just about to pass you with the final box in his hand, bumped your hip playfully with his own before slipping away into the building. You turned to where he was a moment ago, smiling to yourself at the idea of just how childish Roger could be.

Your eyes shifted to the right a little, and you caught the gaze of a man and woman who appeared to have been in their early to mid sixties, across the complex’s main stretch of road. You smiled, and waved at the couple, something you’d expect them to return.

What you didn’t prepare for was when they waved back, and began approaching you to properly greet themselves.

Your eyes widened and you began to internally panic. Roger was just exiting the front door, and you extended your wrist out, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling him back before he could go any further.

You turned to face him, your expressions hidden from everyone but him. “Neighbours’ coming,” you warned in a hushed tone, your eyebrows bent in worry, and your bottom lip rolling between your teeth anxiously.

“Hey, hey, nothin’ to worry about. I’m here. All you need to do is hold my hand, yeah? I can do all the talking."

You let go of his arm after a moment, and he slowly curled his fingers around yours. He took a deep breath, as did you, before putting on bright smiles, and turning towards the neighbours, who just appeared from in behind the truck.

"Hi! You two must be the new couple. Welcome to the complex! I’m Anna Garrison, and this is my husband, Charles."

You and Roger branded the friendliest smiles you both could muster. You watched as Roger let go of you to reach out and shake the couple’s hands.

"I’m Roger Taylor,” he introduced, glancing down and snaking an arm warmly around your waist.

“… and this is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.” You tried to ignore what Roger said despite feeling your face grow hot. You reached out and politely shook the Garrisons’ hands as well, keeping the smile plastered on your mouth no matter how much it ached.

“I remember when we were that young and in love,” Charles mused in a soft tone. Conversations like this, Roger knew, you wanted to avoid at all costs, and he did as well. He was just… really good at lying.

Although the Garrisons looked nice, there was something about them that made them seem rather nosey.

And your suspicions were proven true when you watched Anna’s gaze fall on your bare wedding finger despite just hearing Roger and you were only “boyfriend and girlfriend”.

“So… do you two plan on marrying soon? You may be young, but time does pass."

You knew you should have remained quiet, but you began to panic, and you let out a laugh. "Yeah. We�� we kinda talk about it. Not much."

"We wanna settle in first,” Roger offered, knowing if he didn’t start talking soon, you would have said too much.

You wondered how Roger could do that so easily: pretend, yet be so believable. You wondered if he simply tossed extra words in without thought. Like adding “girl” before “friend”, something he’d called you since you met.

You wondered if he found it awkward to hold your hand, or have you so physically close to him. Then again, you two never exactly had/ personal space.

You knew he had a method of doing this, but you couldn’t quite place exactly what he was doing, or how he did it so naturally.

“Well, it’s gonna be nice, having another couple to have over for dinner."

You could feel your throat swelling. If you made a list on everything you wanted to avoid doing with these neighbours in this complex that you were gonna end up having to do, a quarter of the list would have probably already been crossed off.

"That sounds lovely,” Roger nodded politely, silently wishing himself that the day never had to come, for your sake.

But it seemed Charles and Anna thought differently, and when the married couple made eye contact with one another, you and Roger just knew this invitation was not going to be forgotten about.

“Why don’t you two come tonight?” Charles asked, to which his wife nodded in agreement.

“Don’t worry about having to cook after a long day of moving in. I’m making a lovely casserole, and we can send you home with leftovers. There’s always too much for Charlie and I to eat anyways, with our kids having moved out and away long ago."

Roger opened his mouth to politely decline the offer, but like a few moments before, you panicked and spoke again. "That sounds great, actually!"

The blond looked down at you, and you could see in your peripheral that Roger seemed lost, though the Garrisons didn’t even notice.

"Perfect! We’re right across the road. I suspect it will be done near six-thirty. Gives you two some time to yourselves after everything is moved in."

"We’ll see you around six then?” Charles asked Roger, his old grey eyes wide and expecting.

“Six it is,” Roger agreed, matching smiles with the older gentleman.

“Six it is,” Anna repeated before linking arms with her husband, bidding farewell, and returning to their condominium.

As soon as they closed the door, you tightly grabbed Roger’s wrist, and stepped inside your new home. When the door shut, you let out a long groan, bending your knees and squatting, your face in your hands.

“I thought this is what you wanted to avoid!"

"I know, I know, and I panicked and I fucked up and now we have to have dinner with them,” you whined helplessly. “You’ve known me for years, you know I do this all the time!"

Roger, whose knees were bent, palms flat against his thighs as he thought, took a deep breath, and regained a neutral posture.

"You know what,” he raised his hands in a calming sort of gesture.

“It’s not as bad as you think."

"What do you mean "it’s not as bad as you think”?!“ You were horrified with Roger’s words.

"We do this once, and we never have to go back!” You raised your head from its once defeated position in your hands, but you could see Roger’s reasoning.

"Oh my God…"

"I know! Then we’re home-free!” He explained with a grin, his arms wide open.

You leaned backwards, falling on your ass and leaning your head up against the wall in relief.

“Oh God. We just gotta get through tonight.” You opened your heavy eyelids and smiled up at Roger. “We’ll be fine."

"Yes we will. Now, c'mon, Love. Let’s get those mattresses in here before someone takes notice we have different beds."

And that’s exactly what you did.

And after the car was all unpacked, you and Roger took a well-deserved nap together on the couch.

_____________________________

A/A/N: Thank you all for your patience. Happy reading!

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