Being a Paladin of Voltron isn’t always easy. Sometimes the little things teammates do to help each other out can mean a lot.
Allura finally wraps up the debriefing after what feels like hours of debating how the whole ion-cannon-nearly-destroys-the-Castle mid-battle snafu could have been avoided. With their leader missing, the team is stretched thin. Coran is left alone during each skirmish and everyone’s been working hard to shore up the Castle’s defenses.
The group disperses, Pidge partnering up with Coran to take another look at the particle barrier and Hunk heading to the hangar to repair some recent damage to his Lion. After countless quintents of nearly round-the-clock activity, Lance is beyond ready to slink off and catch up on sleep.
“Lance! Hold on a tick.” Allura’s leader-voice grates through him. “You still need to perform maintenance on the defense drones.”
Lance whirls around, his eye twitching. He loves their Altean caretaker, he really does, but the blue paladin is primed and ready to snap.
Keith steps in—literally moving in front of Lance. “Actually, I wanted Lance to run through some drills with me.”
“Oh.” Allura looks back and forth between them; her tense posture loosens. “Alright, then. But first thing tomorrow, I need you to work on those drones.”
Lance feigns a smile. “Sure thing, Princess.”
Lance trudges through the hallway behind Keith. It’s outta the frying pan and into the fire. At least programming defense drones is mostly stationary. He doesn’t know how he’s going to summon the energy to physically train.
He stretches, grunting when he feels his back pop. “Can we wrap this drill thing up quickly? I am this close to passing out.”
“Relax. That was just a fib to get you out of maintenance duty,” Keith admits. “You need a break.”
Lance’s jaw drops. “You lied to the Princess?”
“It’s a white lie.” Keith shrugs. “Allura’s under a lot of pressure, she needs to always be doing something and it makes her feel better knowing we’re busy too. I get that. But you look absolutely beat. You can’t function like this.”
“Wow.” Lance gapes at the red paladin. “That’s...surprisingly observant of you.”
“I’m observant,” Keith protests.
Lance holds up his hands in defense. “I know. You are. Just...not always about people.” Not about me, he doesn’t say. “So where are we going to go to hide out?”
“Uh…our rooms?”
“You haven’t really thought this plan out, have you?”
Keith throws his hands up. “I was trying to do you a favor!”
“And I’m grateful,” Lance retorts. “But we need to make ourselves scarce for this to work. I think I know a place.”
He leads his companion to one of his favorite spots on the ship: the Altean holodeck. There hasn’t been much downtime to explore its features, so this is a treat.
“Are we supposed to be in here?” Keith asks.
“No.” Lance deadpans. “We’re supposed to be training. Come on.”
He gestures for Keith to follow him to the central column. There, Lance places the mind-meldy headset over the red paladin’s head.
“OK, quick,” Lance says. “What’s your favorite place in the universe?”
Keith frowns. “I don’t know.” Lance levels him with a look and he balks. “You put me on the spot!”
“Alright, okay. Just...” Lance sighs. “You enjoyed Olkarion, right? Because it was quiet.”
“It was peaceful, yeah.”
“So: a forest.” Lance motions for Keith to close his eyes and, amazingly, he obeys. “Picture yourself in a forest. The most peaceful fairy tale woodland you can imagine.”
Keith takes a deep breath. In and out. The white expanse of the room flutters green—leaves blowing in the wind. The airy shapes take form: tall tree trunks, overlapping branches, verdant undergrowth.
There’s a dizzying sensation of movement as the image shifts. The ground rises up until they’re amid the thick forest canopy. An intricate network of lofted buildings form a treetop village, a kind of charming composite of Endor’s moon and Lothlórien.
The platform they end up standing on provides a panoramic view of the treehouse city. A round swinging bed crowded with pillows hangs on sturdy ropes from the cabana roof. There’s gauzy mosquito netting draped gracefully around each column and fairy lights tucked under the eaves.
“Not bad.” Lance takes in the facsimile, impressed. “Your imagination has got some talent.”
Keith opens his eyes and looks a bit dazzled at his own daydream. “It read my mind?”
“Basically. It’s never exact but it gets pretty darn close.” He strides over to the swing-bed with a smirk. “One bed? Keith, you dog. If you want a cuddle you just have to say so.”
Keith glowers. “I don’t think you factored into my ‘happy place.’”
“Ouch.” Lance mock-gasps, a hand over his heart. He climbs onto the soft mattress, near the middle so it doesn’t tip over, but leaving enough space for a friend. “I’ll overlook that, since I owe you.”
He pats the space next to him. Keith looks on, skeptical, and Lance puts on the most earnest expression he can manage. Finally, the red paladin returns the headset to the column and climbs onto the mattress next to Lance.
When they’re settled, Lance shifts his weight so the bed starts swinging rhythmically. Keith scoots closer, throwing an arm around his companion’s middle. Lance’s pulse races. This is probably a bad idea.
Voltron is in a tight spot. They need to focus; now is not the time to be toying with unspoken feelings. But Keith leans into him and he’s warm and sleepy and maybe Lance could stop himself from combing his fingers through Mullet’s stupid hair but it’s infuriatingly silky and he doesn’t want to.
“Thanks,” Lance murmurs, so as not to disturb the moment. “I know you’re really worried about Shiro. It...it means a lot that you spoke up for me.”
“Everyone’s working really hard.” Keith looks up at him. “You think I don’t notice that you’ve been putting in extra time on the training deck and giving Pidge upgrade suggestions and strategizing with Allura and Coran.” He runs his fingers over Lance’s spine and smiles when the blue paladin shudders. “But I do.”
Lance hums and snuggles closer, not trusting his voice.
“And I’m grateful,” Keith quips.
Lance scoffs. “Yeah, yeah.”
Keith laughs, a light airy sound that dwindles into steady breathing. “Get some rest.”
Lance wraps himself up in the red paladin, drifting off to the sound of a fabricated breeze blowing through digital leaves.
It’s always the little things. Those small things that make you sit up and take notice—or, those tiny things that you overlook. In Lance’s case, it’s four Altean rodents. Not long after the two paladins doze off, the mice tattle on them.
“Technically,” Allura says, “They’re misappropriating Castle technology, disobeying orders, and quite literally sleeping on the job.”
Coran nods, then tilts his head in thought. “On the other hand, they are bonding as teammates.”
“True.” Allura smiles. “And I suppose they’ve earned a short respite.”
“And it’s quite a touching scene.”
“It is.” She squares her shoulders, decided. “Give them two varga. Then end the simulation and make sure they hit the floor when you switch it off.”
Hux was already in his bed, reading through messages in his datapad, when he heard her walk in the bedroom. He didn't move at first as she slipped under the covers herself, but he put his device down on his nightstand when she snuggled to his side. As the light of the datapad ceased, darkness engulfed them. He turned to face her and hummed quietly, as if he just asked what was on her mind.
This is so silly and so fluffy, enjoy! (rated teen)
“You’ve got the prettiest eyes, Rose. Have I ever told you?So brown. But not brown like mine. Yours are softer, like whiskey. Yeah.Whiskey. My eyes aren’t that pretty. My eyes look like chocolate. And I likechocolate, I do, but not as an eye color. S’pose I’m stuck with these chocolatebrown eyes, though, eh? No more regenerations for me, Rose Tyler! Nope! Stucklike this. Forever! Well, not forever. For another fifty years, at least. Ihope. Do you think I can make it fifty years, Rose? Will you make it fiftyyears, Rose? Rose? Rose, you won’t die first, will you? I don’t think I couldhandle that, Rose. I don’t want to be left alone anymore.”
Rose looked over at him in alarm as his thoughts went fromsappy to maudlin all in the span of twenty seconds. He was absolutely pissed.Sloshed. Three sheets to the wind. And he looked absolutely wrecked. His eyeswere bloodshot and shining and he was looking at her with an expression of suchdespair that Rose’s heart broke a little for him.
She scooted closer and pressed a lingering kiss to his temple. She lightlystroked at his cheeks and ran her thumb across the worry lines that were furrowing his brow.
“You won’t be left alone, Doctor,” she promised, hoping likehell she could keep it. “You know I’ll do everything in my power to give youyour forever, yeah?”
He nodded, and tucked her closer to his side. Rose nuzzledinto his chest and draped the sheet lightly over them.
“I love you,” he breathed, stroking his fingers idly throughhis hair. “And I’m glad I’m here with you.”
“Me too,” she murmured, feeling the exhaustion pull herunder.
“You’ve got lovely eyes,” the Doctor whispered.
“So you’ve said.”
“So pretty,” he sighed.
“Uh huh,” she mumbled. “Go to sleep, Doctor.”
“I like sleeping with you,” he mused. “I’m not talking aboutsex, though that is bloody brilliant, but just laying down beside you and wakingup beside you is the best. The sex is really good, too. Don’t you think? Rose?Rose, we have really good sex, right?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she said, patting him on the chest. “You’re abrilliant shag. Now go to sleep.”
“I like having sex with you,” he said. “You’re so beautifulwhen you come, Rose. Your mouth does that little “o”, and that sound you makealways makes me come, too. I love coming inside you. You feel so good and I fitso nicely and I like how you feel just before you’re about to come. You get allshaky and you hold me extra close. I like that. I like having sex with you. Making love. ‘Cause that’s what we’re doing, right Rose? We make love.”
Hot tingles prickled across her skin, and she rubbed herthighs together. She wasn’t sleepy anymore.
But apparently he was.
“Love you,” he whispered, and he nuzzled his cheek into herhair before Rose heard his light snores.
“Bloody fucking tease,” she grumbled as she tried to ignorethe wet throb between her legs to join him in sleep.
My brain broke af but I have weird craving for coldflashweather
probably because of Scarlet
but anyway, I told her I’d write her something fluffy because she’s agreed to end one of her fics happily
Two things:
1. lemme just tell you, Barry’s brain = mine right now
2. story is AU. Powers are still a thing, but I’m dragging everyone into my Finals Hole. ‘Cept for a few characters, they can stay outside of college-y things.
I have Barry struggling with english instead because I’m p sure he wouldn’t have a problem with math finals
For @youreturningscarletscarlet
Okay...so...Fauuuuulkner.
Faulk. Ener. No, wait---Fffffaulkner.
Faulk. Ner.
Faulk?
Fuck. Yeah, that was it.
“Fuck,” Barry concludes enthusiastically, and by enthusiastically he obviously means slamming his head into his pillow and loudly slurring the word.
He excels in Chemistry and Physics, but give him three different critical lenses to analyze for Barn Burning and suddenly his brain is like mmmuh-huh? He’d do almost anything to have a physics final tomorrow morning instead of english. Then he’d be done studying by now, and he could invite Mark and Len over.
Yeeees. They lived near CCU, it’d work. Barry could run ‘em over if they didn’t feel like driving. It’d be cool. Heh---cool. Cold. Captain Cold.
Before Barry’s brain catches up to his fingers, he’s already got his phone to his ear and laughing hysterically over an accidental pun he made in his head.
Finals.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Barry opens his mouth to apologize for calling, he’s just so stressed out right now he quite literally can’t think straight, but all that comes out is another boisterous shout of, “Cool!” that dissolves into another fit of laughter.
“...Barry?”
Muffled voices. Barry keeps laughing, because, cool. Ha! How does Len not laugh every second of the day?
Wow, laughing is tiring.
Everything is tiring, really. Everything---everything just happens too much.
It’s...it’s not cool.
Barry falls asleep giggling.
When he wakes, Barry hums at the kisses on his throat. Len---it’s definitely Len, he knows, don’t question him---hears him and joins Mark by pressing kisses to Barry’s lips. Slow, beautiful kisses.
Kisses are awesome. Even the word’s awesome. Kisses.
Kisssssssiiiies.
Barry starts giggling again.
Len pulls back with a huff. “Go back to sleep, Barry.”
Barry frowns as loudly as he can as Mark recedes too. “I have to study though,” he mumbles. The room temperature gets warmer. “You guys are the worst.”
“We’re not the ones who called Captain Cold and laughed about a stupid pun,” Mark says.
“I didn’ mean to!” Barry murmurs, “I was just goin’ over Fucker---”
“What?”
“Wait, no, um...Ffffaulkner? Faulkner.”
Len meets Mark’s eyes over Barry’s shoulder. Barry gives them both a feeble shove.
“Somethin’ about...Mmmmarxism, aaaand historicism, aaaand...” Barry squints, thinking. Wait, had there been two or three lenses to analyze? Maybe he was thinking of another work his professor reviewed. Maybe not? Maybe he should check the packet...
Two hands shoved him back onto his tiny bed before he could get an inch off the mattress.
“Stay,” says Len.
“Sleep,” says Mark.
“Fuck you,” says Barry.
But damn it, he falls asleep anyway.
I wish I could ship this, buuuuut...see, here’s the thing: I would, but my father’s name is Mark. Sooooo. Yeah. Awkward.
Her clutch onto the doll in her hand tightens as she hears another scream pierce through the door accompanied by “Push!”es echoing down the hallways. Beads of perspiration falls down her forehead even though she wasn’t the one in pain. While mama has been screaming in pain since the sun was up, she had been sitting outside patiently for some magic Auntie Gerda promised after she practiced her One-Two-Three-s obediently that day.
She stops right in front of the door for the nth time and another of the louder than usual scream comes. She flinches and her hand reaching for the doll falls. She looks down on her doll and turns around to papa, who is pacing around as well. He looks upset, but she doesn’t understand.
It worries her.
He stops in his footsteps as well and walks up to the door, frowns as his hands reaches towards the door knob as well, and shakes his heads before returning to pacing.
If the cost of magic was mama’s pain and papa’s helplessness, she wasn’t sure she wanted it.
Why is papa so angry and sad and scared for mama but he’s not bursting into the room to save her? Is he too tired? Can Elsa save mama instead? After all, she has magic powers.
She tugs onto his thick black shirt and he looks down at her. She must have made a face that made him concerned so he squats down and smiles at her. He places a warm and gentle hand on her head. It usually makes her feel like everything will be alright. But she doesn’t feel any better looking his smile. Something about it unnerves her.
She wraps her hands around her little doll and hugs it even tighter. Tiny little snowflakes were raining on her forehead, melting before it touches her, while snowflakes slowly appeared on the yellow stuffed crown and auburn threads. “Will mama be okay?”
“Mama will be alright, sweetheart.” He says, ruffling her hair. Elsa feels the weight on her head increase and upon closer inspection, the purplish-black lines under papa’s eyes are becoming worse. She licks a finger and tries to wipe off the ink-looking marks on papa’s face and the man laughs before standing up. The laugh makes her feel a little better. His moustache shakes as his mouth widens, which makes it even funnier she can’t help but giggle.
His body protests as she picks him up as well. “Don’t worry, mama will be done very soon. And you’ll have a new friend.” He says, dusting off the snow on her doll.
“Friend?” She repeats with glee. She shakes her doll excitedly, “Anna, we have a new friend!”
The man chuckles again. “Warm hug!” He says, hugging her tightly and she welcomes the warmth that surrounds her.
She throws her hands around daddy’s neck, her doll still in hand, and replies cheerfully, “Warm hug!”
A baby’s cry shoots through her ears and the two of them jumped out of their hug. Suddenly the door bursts open from the other side and Gerda rushes out with a handkerchief in hand. She’s sweating just as much as she is, if not more. “It’s a girl!” She cries out. Papa runs in as she continues, “Careful, she’s still tired!”
“Is she okay?!” Papa asks as he makes his way to the bedside.
The physician who is writing something bows briefly and replies, “She’s okay, Your Majesty. A feisty one, this one, unlike little Elsa here. Hello there little one.” He stops writing and waves a hand when he sees her.
“Hello,” Elsa timidly replies. She secures her hands and Anna around papa’s neck. She doesn’t like that man - always checking on her, placing some cold metal thing on her chests and back, teaching her to breathe. She knows how to breathe! The man returns to speaking to papa about complicated things - and so quickly, too - she doesn’t understand.
When papa sits down beside the bed, Elsa crawls out of his arms and climbs onto the bed. “Mama-”
“Are you alright, sweetie?” Papa asks with great concern.
From behind, Auntie Gerda yells as she walks back in. “I told you she’s tired! She just pushed something the size of a turkey out there, what do you think?!”
“I’m sorry, Gerda. I was just worried.” Papa smiles.
“I’m alright, honey.” Mama says as she tries to sit up. Before she says another word, everyone rushes to her and gently stops her from moving.
“Your Majesty, I’ve told you not to do anything!”
“You just gave birth, Your Majesty. For God’s sake, please don’t hurt yourself!”
“Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop…” Papa says, unlike everyone else, suddenly incapable of proper sentences. Elsa pouts a little. And yet he always tries to correct her sentences.
“Mama?”
“Yes, sweetie?” Mama seems so tired she can’t even open her eyes properly. And her forehead is so wet it’s shiny. While one hand is on under the blankie, her other hand reaches out to pat her head. She laughs, “How many times did you let papa pat your head? Your hair is so messy.”
“Many, many times. Papa says I have a new friend.” She says, her eyes returning to her tired mama.
“We do, honey.” Then just like magic, her other hand lifts up something wrapped in a green cloth. A tiny fist pokes out of it and mama pokes it. “Look at her, isn’t she beautiful?”
The tiny hand wrapped around mama’s slender fingers and the entire family laughed. Elsa bends a little closer to take a better look at her new friend. Short orange-red fuzzy strands poke out of the cloth - which looks wet like when Auntie Gerda dries her hair - and tiny green-blue eyes slowly blinks open. “She’s still wet. I don’t want to touch her.” She says, resisting the urge to poke the baby’s chubby little cheeks.
“Her name is Anna, and-”
“Anna?” Her eyes blink wide open and she faces both her parents who are smiling as if it is finally bedtime for both of them. They look at each other Elsa is so familiar with she belches just as their lips meet. When their eyes return to her, she continues, “But this is Anna!” She says, showing them her little doll with pride.
“Yes it is, Elsa. But now, Anna is real. She’s your sister now. And you’re going to be her best friend.” Mama says.
Elsa’s mouth forms an ‘o’ but no sound comes out. Papa then pipes in, ruffling her hair, “you’ll have to teach her everything you know, Elsa.”
Mama tsks and slaps papa’s hand. “I told you, you’ll mess up her hair. Here, hold Anna instead.” She scolds papa sternly. Papa simply laughs and apologises.
Meanwhile, Elsa watches the baby who is playfully reaching out to anything remotely close to her and almost touches her cheek. Elsa frowns at the baby, which looks at her curiously with fingers in her mouth. “I don’t want to touch you, you’re wet. Auntie Gerda says not to play when you’re wet.”
Eyes went to Gerda who simply laughs and waves her handkerchief. “Oh please.” She says, not even defending herself.
“It’s okay, Elsa, you can touch her. Just don’t… make her cry.” Mama says.
Elsa looks at papa who nods encouragingly.
“Ooookay.” She says unsurely. She still doesn’t feel comfortable touching the wrapped baby so she doesn’t want to. But papa and mama seem so eager for her to touch this new friend and she doesn’t even understand why - this Anna can’t even understand her speak yet, while her Anna can.
She twiddles her fingers above the baby’s head and snowflakes fall. Anna squeals excitedly, trying to catch every single one. A particularly shiny one falls on her nose and Elsa laughs as the pair of greenish-blue eyes fall on it. “She’s so cute!”
“Indeed.” Papa agrees, poking the snowflake dancing on her nose. Anna giggles and reaches out to papa’s finger.
The urge to poke Anna’s cheeks rises again and this time, she can’t resist. Slowly, a finger rises and while the baby is still caught up on catching the snowflakes, she touches the soft flesh. “She’s softer and smoother than Anna!” She exclaims her discovery. When she receives the baby’s attention, she doesn’t stop poking despite the waving hands to catch hers. They’re small, unlike her parents’ and Uncle Kai’s or Auntie Gerda’s, but larger and moving unlike her doll’s. “I like her.” She adds when her finger is caught.
“She’s so warm…” she whispers.
“Well that’s good. ‘Cause whether you like her or not, she’ll be around for a long, long, time, sweetie.” Mama laughs.
She climbs onto papa’s hands, still holding Anna who looks distracted by papa’s moustache and waves her little doll at her newborn sister. She giggles when Anna reaches out for papa’s moustache, “It’s funny isn’t it?” She asks the baby. As if able to understand, Anna looks at her and smiles brightly as she reaches out to her, but doesn’t reply.
Papa laughs and proceeds to making funny faces as they start to compete for Anna’s attention.
She revels in how much Anna is just like her - they both love snow, and laughs at papa’s moustache - and then it hits her.
“Is she going to have magic like me?”
Auntie Gerda shakes her head and mama pats hers, “No, but she’s going to be just as much a princess as you are. So you’re going to have to learn to share.” She hears papa sigh.
“Share?”
“Yes, share. Your magic, your toys, your room, everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” Her parents say together.
She turns to Anna, who just in time sneezes, and picks up her doll left on the bed. “But Anna can’t have Anna.”
Mama holds back a yawn as Elsa plays with the crown on the doll’s head and Auntie Gerda joins the conversation.
“Alright, everybody. It’s time for bed! Mama’s tired now, Elsa. So how about we play with Anna tomorrow? Your Majesty, you need to sleep too. It’s way past your usual sleeping hour, too.”
Papa is about to protest when Auntie Gerda stares him down into a pout and Elsa laughs, realising nobody can disobey Auntie Gerda. Not even papa, and papa is king. “There there, you want to be a good example for Elsa don’t you?” Mama says, reaching out to papa.
Papa sighs and hands Auntie Gerda the baby and agrees, “Oh, alright. Off to bed too, kid!” He grunts, picking up Elsa from the bed and putting her on the floor. “Goodnight, Elsa.” He turns to Auntie Gerda with a pleading look and mouths something Elsa doesn’t understand, but the woman nods confidently to.
“What did papa say?” She asks on the walk back to her room. “Where is Anna going to sleep?”
“Like Her Majesty said, Your Highness. In your room.” Elsa pouts at the reply. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
She yawns at the thought of sleep, “well I’m tired so she can’t wake me.”
Auntie Gerda laughs at her reply. She gently puts the baby in her cot as the young girl climbs up her bed and waits for her to help her with her blankie.
“Listen, Elsa.” She starts, looking worriedly and deep in thought. Elsa leans forward to listen, eager to help her first subject. “When Anna can speak, she will be lonely when you’re studying without your doll, so what do you say... we make a little Elsa doll for her?”
“A doll made from me?” She stands up excitedly. “Can I help? Can I help?”
Auntie Gerda laughs, “Of course you can, sweetheart. But let me do the sewing. Now goodnight, little one.” She pats the little girl and turns off the lights as she leaves the room.
When she hears the clicking of Auntie Gerda’s shoes fade into the distance, she quickly climbs out of bed and runs to the sleeping baby. As if expecting her, greenish-blue eyes blink wide open and hands start flying in her direction. Barely able to reach over the crib, she waves her hands and snow starts to form over the baby’s head. Her heart melts when she hears Anna’s giggles.
“Hello little baby, you’re a princess just like me…”
- - -
I wrote a thing. Will post it up on Ao3 later. I was just wondering how their names came to be, and... well. yeah. Also, I tried writing in present tense! And that was difficult.
