Sdfasdfs is this not immediately what happened tho? Oh the Black Lion's out? Who cares about that cat? Ryou's got the BEST lion and it's the one that can headbutt through meteors!!!
Sometimes i catch myself thinking Ryou is just a funky lil guy doing wacky shit w/ his bro aND THEN HE STRAIGHT UP MURDERS, LIKE, 4 DUDES WHILE SMILING
He tricked me, the reader, i to thinking hes simply a goofball, beacuse thats what he also does to everyone around him. Even tough i know his backstory and what he was created for, he acts so nonshalantly about it that you just. Forget hes capable od murder??
And the "i love you" and how he does it all to keep Shiro safe was just sooo good!
Id love to hear your thought process on this one!
I mean, part of the slight of hand is that Ryou really isn't quite as capable as Shiro. He doesn't have the Quintessence output, which affects the arm, and therefore his physical strength.
But, like, 95% of Shiro's ability is still very much The Champion. And Ryou remembers far more of the specifics. He has more mental space because he can say 'that was Shiro and I'm glad he survived it', but he has the capability and the muscle memory.
The smiling part.... tbh, lately I've been into Pokemon: Legends Arceus and the sad train man. One of the Pokemon from that series is a shape-changing ghost-type Kitsune trickster, and art often depicts them with a fanged smile.
So, uh, you know. Not a far leap to have that in my head and then think about my twins. And that is a part of Ryou: it's a theme more explored in Parallel by Proxy by @velkynkarma, but still holds true in DLS. Ryou is a reflection of Shiro, one that smiles and hides behind jokes rather than professionalism. But what's below that is deadly.
That's the thing, too: Shiro hides that side of himself because he's afraid of what kind of monster that makes him. He's afraid of how the Galra broke him.
Ryou knows exactly how broken he is, and exactly what he's capable of. He hides because he knows when being a monster can serve the team best. When it can be put to use.
I love you, he says, without artifice, without a joke to hide behind. This is what I am - for you, and for no one else.
Shiro is the only one who really knows what that means.
Uh, I have no excuse for this, except that I've been playing MGS with the bestie and Metal Gear Solid 4 gave me feelings. About clones and the nature of humanity and how the constant grind of warfare and PTSD breaks a person down.
And MGS4 ends the way it does and I happen to have this clone lad in my back pocket who could really answer some of the final issues and at least be have a certain perspective and-
Yeah.
So, spoilers for the end of Metal Gear Solid 4 and general knowledge of the Don't Let's Start series required for maximum understanding.
To the one theoretical person who is interested in this: hi. Hope you like it.
“What are you doing?”
The question could be defensive. Two weeks ago, it would have been. When this strange traveler had been near literally dumped on them - yet another request from Campbell, to Otakon’s seething frustration - it had been another burden. Another job. Another round of bodyguard duty.
Mind, ‘keep a time traveler from being too obvious’ is one of the more interesting bodyguard missions he’s had. But still, Dave is officially retired. Dave is just plain tired. He’s supposed to be done. He’s supposed to not be a soldier anymore.
What else there is, he’s still not sure. But that was the goal.
But somehow, it hasn’t been a struggle. The past few weeks have seen their little unit go through a variety of temporary guests, and this odd figure is by far the easiest. No femme fatale bullshit, no massive medical issues, no demands.
Ryou Shirogane has been a model guest. Other than how often he runs his fucking mouth.
So Dave’s question isn’t suspicious in the ‘threat detection’ sort of way.
It is suspicious in the ‘what do you think you’re doing’ kind of way. The way Dave asks when he comes downstairs and finds Otakon and Sunny (and now Ryou, horrifyingly) taking up half the bottom floor of their little cabin with some mechanical monstrosity.
Ryou looks innocuous right now. He’s sprawled out on the couch - at six foot and change, his feet dangle over the arm rests. There’s that odd little tablet of his on his lap, which has a projected keyboard he’s been idly tapping on.
Nothing about that is worrisome. But the distant look in his eyes is.
Dave has seen that look on a lot of soldiers. He’s seen it in his own mirror.
Ryou barely flickers his eyes over. “Hurting myself,” he says dryly.
Fuck, Dave has no idea how to deal with this. Ryou does this, causally lobs the truth around with the grace and impact of a stun grenade. Dave has barely cared to acknowledge something as inconsequential as emotions, much less had success with other people’s. He tries with Otacon. He tries harder with Sunny (when he can).
What is he supposed to say to that?
‘Don’t’, is the first response to come to mind, but it feels nonsensical.
“Why?” Is what Dave manages.
(Why is also a word he’s not sure how to deal with. It’s never been his first instinct to question, just to do. He’s told a goal and he completes it. ‘Why’ is for other people to deal with. He’s starting to realize maybe he should think ‘Why’ sooner, but it’s far too late now.)
“Shits and giggles,” Ryou drawls back instantly, then seems to catch himself. “No, that’s not true. But- do you want to know something that could be good or could be disappointing? Or is it not worth it?”
Ryou stares at him, earnest and direct. He seems to have no problem craning his neck on the arm rest to look up, and Dave distantly envies him that simple ability. Ryou is in his 20s, younger than even Jack. He has that strange, fluid prosthetic of his, but otherwise he’s young. Flexible. Painless.
Dave can’t remember what that feels like.
Finally, he thinks about the question that Ryou had asked. Thankfully, Ryou doesn’t comment on the pause, just watches with odd patience given his usual energy.
“Is this a future thing?”
“No?” Ryou draws out the word like he’s not sure. “Uh, I guess yes, ish. It’s a me thing. My past thing. Kind of a you thing?”
Dave’s brows rise up slowly. He doesn’t comment, just lets the silence hang.
“Yeah, yeah, the Colonel guy said not to talk about the future. But I’m not even officially part of the military in my own time, much less now, and he’s retired anyway, so frankly I don’t really give a fuck. It’s not like I’ve been really good about it. Sunny’s already picked up, like, 50 things from me that I really don’t think anyone in this time should know.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“I know.” Ryou grins then, wide and toothy. It falls away. “Honestly, I don’t think this is my timeline anyway. I think this is another dimension. I, uh- well. We can talk about that. If you want. But you guys are keeping me, and- agh.” Ryou throws a dramatic arm over his eyes. “I can help more. But if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
There’s so much information - or rather, so many hints at information that have been cut off - that Dave honestly isn’t even sure where to start. Fuck, why isn’t Ryou babbling this to Otakon, who might have a chance to untangle it?
“What are you talking about?” Dave pauses, then frowns. “If something is coming...”
“I don’t know,” Ryou says plainly. “I can’t even tell you the timelines of what I know, and untangle that from whatever propaganda and rebranding happens years down the line. There’s, uh, blank spots in what I know about Earth history. For personal reasons. But I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a nanomachine surge that turned my Earth into a global warzone.”
“Lucky you,” Dave bites out. He hears but lets Ryou’s odd comments about history go. It’s not like he cared much about history class. A thousand things could have happened in the future to make learning history more difficult.
Ryou holds up his hands - one flesh, one gleaming silver metal. They’re identical in all but color and texture. “It’s not about the world, or anything important. It’s about me. And it could be about you.”
That stops Dave again. He doesn’t have a year left in him. But there is something memetic to him, something he’s trying to leave behind. Something that might affect Ryou’s life in the future.
“Sunny?” He asks, straightening up.
“No,” Ryou says firmly, voice lowering. Gentling. Soothing, like Dave is a horse about to buck.
Dave bristles, but he’s heard Ryou use it before. Low conversations with Otakon, quiet, thoughtful ones with Sunny pressed against his side. This just seems to be how Ryou talks when he’s being serious.
“Then I have no idea what I have to do with anything.”
“I’m a clone too.”
Dave freezes. Stares. His hand goes to his hip, where there is not a gun and should be.
Ryou gives a weak smile and shrugs loosely. “I’ve been working with Sunny. She has access to all your files. And- I hear things.”
Dave continues to stare.
“So, that’s what I mean. I’m a clone and for... uh, not great reasons? With some- that’s what I’m asking. Do you want to know?”
I can help you, Ryou had said. I’m a clone too.
“What kind of help are we talking about?” Dave asks. His hand stays by his hip, less out of paranoid fear and more out of wish for the comfort of it.
It says bad things that he feels more comfortable with a gun in his hand than without.
He’s not supposed to be a soldier anymore. But a soldier is all Dave is. What’s left is-
Zero. Hah.
Ryou meets his eyes, expression going flat. Deeply serious. He sees in a way that most people don’t. The closest is Otakon, who has nearly a decade of experience dealing with Dave.
Ryou has had two weeks. It’s eerie, to say the least.
Maybe it’s a clone thing?
But it’s not like Liquid - either version - had ever had a fuckin clue what Dave was really thinking. So maybe not.
Finally, Ryou digs into his pack. He pulls out a small tin and gives it a shake. Something small rattles within. “I was built with an expiration date,” Ryou says.
The familiar words impact Dave in the stomach, just as powerfully as if Ryou had stood and punched him with that metal arm.
“Not like- differently than you. It wasn’t a slow decline, not really. Cognitive failure. A release of chemicals, basically dementia. Then, after that, physical decline until organ failure.”
Ryou rattles all this off clinically, neutrally. A list of symptoms as if from a book. But his gaze is on Dave’s eyes, holding contact. Flickering over his face the same way Dave looks over rooms and maps on a mission. Finding every detail.
Dave has no idea what Ryou is seeing. His own face, the micro-signs of his expressions, are unknown territory to him. More so now, but true even before the advanced aging.
“It happened to- to other clones. But I’m broken in like ten different ways we know of. So it never actually started like it was supposed to and we don’t know if and when it’ll happen to me. Just that it’s in my genes and it’s supposed to. So I have this.” Ryou shakes the tin. “It’s gene therapy. It stops the breakdown process.”
Dave looks at the tin, head cocked. He wants to say ‘good for you’, wants to spit out the bitter feeling climbing up in him. Is knowing that clones in the future won’t be fucked up like him supposed to make him feel better now?
But Ryou had said this wasn’t a future thing. It was helping Dave now. So-
Wait.
“Those...?”
Ryou’s shoulders droop and he gives a hopeful little smile. “As these pills are? Probably not helpful to you. My defects are specific. Quiet calls it the Failsafe. One little tiny change. It took a genuine, once in a millenia genius to find the difference, but he did. But if this can help me with my genes, and you guys know what differences are messing with you...”
Ryou holds out the tin.
Dave does not take it.
“How are we supposed to do that?”
Ryou looks down at the tin, then shrugs. “Honestly? Not sure, I didn’t make it. The process of how it was developed is on here, though.” He taps his tablet, that odd little machine that was half his possessions when he was dropped off. “You’ll need a doctor. A specialist. And, uh, not to let Campbell know, I think. But it’s just a pill. Chemicals. It might help, or it might not.”
Hope, but the possibility of disappointment.
Fuck, Dave wishes he’d understood what Ryou was asking at the time. He might be in the least bit prepared for this.
He reaches out, then pauses. Sees his hand, the wrinkled skin, the bony fingers.
It’s been years, but still looks at his body and feels wrong.
Dave drops his hand. “Bit late now, isn’t it?”
“Not the best timing,” Ryou acknowledges. “But it could give you more time. I’m sure there are people who would appreciate that.” He looks past Dave out the window.
Outside, where Hal and Sunny are, burning through the endless energy a nearly eight year old has.
“And- can I just say? Everybody who you’ve talked to about this... the FOXDIE doctor, Liquid, EVA...”
Dave stares him down. “You’ve been reading.”
“I have a good memory,” Ryou chirps back, unrepentant. “And your original, too. All of them, to a one, either have reasons to tell you certain versions of the facts, or weren’t... well, frankly, I’m pretty sure Liquid didn’t know his ass from his elbow, genetically speaking.”
Dave snorts despite himself. Even so, he crosses his arms and stares down at where Ryou is still laying down. “Look at me.”
“You’re declining,” Ryou agrees easily. “I’m not a doctor, but that’s obvious. But- and, again, my memory is spotty on some topics. But aging is a process. It’s the slow breakdown from wear and tear. And-” He pauses, clearly frustrated with his own inability to describe his thoughts. No wonder, since it’s a first in the short time Dave has known him. “Are you aging fast, or are your symptoms reproducing advanced age?”
Dave’s brow furrows. His arms drop again, not less defensive, but simply more confused than that. “What?”
“Is it that your body is old so your organs are breaking down, or that your organs are breaking down and that makes your body act like it’s old? If we treated what’s ailing your body, would the new cells be like you’re 70 or whatever, or would they be like you’re...” Ryou pauses, nose wrinkling, then continues, “42.”
Dave really doesn’t like how well Ryou seems to know his information.
If the last two weeks hadn’t been fucking surreal, in terms of the bizare future shit that came out of Ryou’s mouth, Dave wouldn’t buy this story at all. It would be a trap.
But-
Dave has looked into the eyes of many, many liars.
Dave is less sure what the truth looks like. But he knows what conviction looks like, and Ryou’s got it in spades.
“I don’t know,” Dave says.
“Want to try and find out?” Ryou says. “Maybe you don’t want to try. Maybe the disappointment isn’t worth the hope. It’s up to you. If you don’t want to, I won’t mention this again. Even to Hal.”
Fuck, Dave hadn’t even gotten that far yet. If Ryou told this to Hal, he would be unstoppable. And the fight over it would be incredible.
Ryou is leaving this in Dave’s court, and seems absolutely sincere about that.
It’s an unexpected kindness. And not something anyone would do if this was a trap. Ryou seems to understand, genuinely, that Dave might be done with trying, even if it means a painful end.
Dave wonders how someone so young knows. He doesn’t want to know the answer. It was terrible on Jack. He doubts it’s better from Ryou.
“Things can be better,” Ryou says gently. “What’s happening now is what you’re used to. If you want to keep control of that, it’s fine. But you deserve the chance. You deserve the time. Not for anything in particular, but just to have and to experience things. You guys are going to travel the world, right? Why not have a chance to see it?”
Seductive. It’s not a word Dave uses lightly. He’s usually detached enough from the present that few things could tempt him away from what he already knows he wants - or, even more importantly, the mission.
The only other time Dave has been this tempted was when a familiar reedy nerd showed up in a far too thin jacket to this very cabin, teeth chattering too hard to properly explain why he was there. Then, later, getting the full story - the start to Philanthropy.
Dave wants this.
That want casts a shadow - the shape of the want is the same size as the potential disappointment. If this doesn’t work-
If this is a waste, it is of Dave’s precious little remaining time. And, worse, he’s putting Otakon and Sunny through the same disappointment. Otakon had been so fucking ready to try every doctor, every avenue, and each time the lack of answers had hit him harder than Dave.
Being like this for several more years is tempting enough. It’s more time to see Sunny grow and make sure their little family is prepared when he’s gone.
But being there. Really being there-
Dave has never thought he’d live long. He’d always thought he would die sooner rather than later on the field. If it was in the service of Philanthropy or stopping the Patriots, that was better than he could have hoped. The alternative, once upon a time, had been drinking himself to death.
This-
Dave is 42. Considering how long Big Boss lived, how healthy he was before FOXDIE, he could double that.
42 years of being a solider.
With 42 more, maybe he has a chance of figuring out what else he can be.
Ryou just stares and holds out the medicine - his medicine, that he’s offering with no strings. If his arm is tired, he shows no sign of it. If he’s impatient with Dave’s long thinking process, he doesn’t show that either. He’s said his piece, and how he’s just... waiting.
Dave stares back.
He takes the tin.
“Thank fuck,” Ryou groans, all that quiet and seriousness falling away in an instant. Or, rather, covered back up under his usual frenetic energy. “I mean, your choice and all, but fuck, I’d feel so bad if you didn’t take it.”
“Glad to help,” Dave drawls, mostly on autopilot. He opens the tin, half convinced inside will be breath mints, and this is all a prank.
Inside are small, white pills. Smaller than Dave’s pinky. Barely more than aspirin.
They’re unmarked. Which, if these are made special for Ryou’s... clone gene problems, that does make sense.
“What happens if I take one now?”
Ryou pauses. “No fucking clue,” he says. “You won’t get my version of Failsafe, I guess? One of your genes gets threrapied into being more like Takashi’s?”
Dave eyes him. “Therapied.”
“Mhmm. Scientific term.”
“Are you sure you know better than Liquid did?”
“I think your average middle schooler knows better than Liquid, even now.” Ryou finally moves, sitting up properly on one of the cushions. He pats the other one. “So c’mon, chat with me.”
Dave eyes the spot that Ryou is enthusiastically swatting. “We’ve been talking.”
“We’ve been negotiating,” Ryou corrects primly. “Let’s talk. Mano a Mano. Clono a Clono.”
Dave nearly walks away then, just because of how much he doesn’t want to acknowledge that joke.
Instead, he sits. The ancient springs creak under his weight. Dave relates, his own back aching in a similar way.
“Here’s what I was doing before,” Ryou says, then drops the tablet into Dave’s lap.
Dave takes it, then turns it upside down, because he’s not sure what he’s looking at. A moment later, he returns it to the original orientation - he had it right, he just can’t read the language. Doesn’t even know what the language is. Maybe a cypher? “Am I supposed to recognize this?”
“Not yet. I’ll translate later. But this is me. My file. The entire process of my creation, and the documentation of my failures.”
Dave stills, because that’s how he’s trained to respond to being startled.
“I’ve never read it before,” Ryou admits, either ignoring or oblivious to Dave’s reaction. “Actually, I was locked out from it by my friends. Figured it was unhealthy for me to snoop into. Which, fair catch, it totally is. But it can probably help here too. There were lots of us. Hundreds.”
“Hundreds?” Dave repeats hollowly. His mind latches onto that rather than ponder the meaning of Ryou handing his entire creation to Dave with all the gravitas of a doodled on napkin. Logistics he knows. Logistics he can do. “That’s a lot of babies.”
“We didn’t stay babies long,” Ryou says. He uses his finger to scroll down farther on the screen, to more indecipherable text. But there’s a diagram and calculations as well. “We were aged up to match Takashi immediately. Then we were in pods - uh, stasis, basically - until they tested us or made tweaks so we’d match Takashi better.”
“More gene therapy?” Dave asks, mostly on autopilot. His brain is still working on the details of what Ryou is implying. How much room it would take to hold that many bodies, even if they were asleep. The resources to handle it. The facility alone must have been enormous. What was happening in Ryou’s version of the future that would make that worthwhile?
Ryou shakes his head, visible in Dave’s peripheral vision. “No. They did that during the original cloning process and tweaked as they made more. This was...”
Ryou scrolls again, this time showing a picture of a young man - nearly identical to Ryou. He only has white hair at the bangs, rather than Ryou’s all over white tips - Dave recognizes the signs of an old dye job. He has the same deep scar over his nose, a similar prosthetic on the same arm. The man is unconscious and shirtless, spread out to show the many scars over his torso. The next picture is the same, but showing his back.
Dave has lived through a lot. He’s survived being shot more than anyone sane should have. He has scars from knives, from cattle prods (thank you, Ocelot), from as many types of bullets as there are. The prominent burn on his face is never going to fade.
This young man, barely in his mid-20s from the looks of him, looks like he was chewed up and spat back out. Possibly literally.
Dave looks to Ryou to ask, and sees the scar on his nose. The prosthetic arm.
He’d been born and aged up. He hadn’t come by those features naturally.
They’d been cut into him. Literally. Physically.
Dave’s mind finally skips ahead, jumping past the logistics and functionality questions he’d used to ignore his own emotional response.
Dave was born in the image of a man he would come to kill.
Ryou was carved into the image.
Dave struggles with that knowledge, and more importantly, what he should do about it. Comfort him? Apologize? Neither of those do anything.
So Dave is left scrambling, and that leaves an opening for that creeping, always behind question.
“Why?”
“Haggar wanted me to be a sleeper agent. The original - Takashi Shirogane - escaped her. So she used the cloning project she’d been working on to make a new version of him. She was supposed to give me all his memories, make me identical, but then have her claws in me. I’d replace Takashi and not even realize it until the moment she turned me against his teammates.”
Finally, another ‘why’ question dawns on Dave. One that hasn’t occurred to him this whole surreal conversation.
Why are you telling me this?
The answer, belatedly, becomes clear.
Ryou is bearing his soul this way because he understands. Not just being a clone, which Dave never really wrapped his head around until he was forced to by his genes. He understands being synthetically created for a specific purpose, made in the image of someone as a replacement, as a tool of war and espionage.
Ryou is a blue rose.
“Didn’t really work,” Ryou continues on, and this time Dave is sure he’s oblivious to Dave’s reaction. He has to be - his eyes are down, his fingers are twisted in his lap. His leg has started to jiggle nervously, like Otakon does when he’s working himself up to a Talk. “I said I’m a failure. I was a test run of their wet works. The first physically functional body. So they gave me the slapdash version of the memories to not give me brain damage and threw me into a practical trial. But I didn’t die and- well, the place they left me wasn’t as isolated as they thought. I got help and got home, and we figured out what was happening. They let me stay and help fight back.”
Dave-
Dave has no idea what to do with that flood of information.
“Why?” He says. When Ryou flinches, he pauses, confused, and then clarifies. “Why go to all the trouble to make you? Who is Takashi Shirogane that makes him so important? Who wants to take him down so badly?”
Ryou blinks at him.
Then he grins. “Aliens.”
Dave scoffs.
Ryou’s grin grows wider.
“Seriously, who?”
“Seriously, aliens,” Ryou replies. “I’m not messing with you. Takashi is the leader of a group fighting against an oppressive empire of aliens. He was an astronaut who made first contact with the Galra when they captured the crew of the Daedalus, which is how he got fucked up like that. When he got out, he ended up- well. He joined a group who fight back against them. And now I do too.” Ryou brightens at that, purely and simply proud.
Dave wonders if he ever looked like that, in those early years of Philanthropy. Probably not. He can’t imagine that look on his face, young or old.
“You were cloned by aliens,” Dave repeats flatly, a habit he knows annoys plenty of people he works with.
“Yup,” Ryou says, popping the ‘p’. He nudges Dave with his prosthesis. “On a little moon base, with alien resources. So, you know, if you ever question your humanity, I’m kind of an authority.”
It strikes Dave anew that Ryou isn’t saying this as a mission briefing or just to say. He’s giving this personal, probably painful information for Dave’s sake. To help, by his own admission.
Dave has no idea what to do with that. No idea why anyone would, especially someone who is basically a stranger. No idea why anyone would bother for him in particular.
Another detail creeps through. “You live with Shirogane.”
“I do,” Ryou agrees. “And honestly, you can call him Shiro. Basically everybody does. Shirogane is a mouthful.”
“It’s fine,” Dave says, because he’s gotten used to plenty of long names in his time. He lets the tablet fall into his lap. “That... it’s okay?”
Ryou nods firmly. “It is,” he says. “That’s how we worked it out. I have his memories too, so it’s different for us. I get him. Better than anyone, because he doesn’t really let people in much. He was suffering and I couldn’t just let him be. It took a bit but... we’re brothers. He’s my brother.”
Brother. Big Boss had said the same thing. Dave can’t imagine. He’s had three different people with a possible claim toward brotherhood, and he feels nothing of the sort toward any of them. Liquid was genuinely his twin, but they knew each other for less than 24 hours before the real version of him died, and he was an enemy that entire time. Solidus was a name, then an enemy too. Big Boss was-
Well, that one is more complicated. Worse.
Dave is happy for Ryou. He seems to have found peace in this way, a kind of family and happiness. Maybe if things had been different, or if they’d meet earlier... but he doubts it. Not so long as Liquid looked at Dave with jealousy, of all things, and Solidus with disdain.
“I’m glad,” Dave finally says.
“I am too. But I don’t think it says anything, either.” Ryou glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “It’s just- genetic lineage. Just because you’re related to someone doesn’t obligate you to have a relationship with them. I do have one with Takashi and I’m grateful for that. But it doesn’t mean anything outside of that. We just happen to also care about each other.”
Dave eyes him back - looking up, because Ryou is annoyingly fucking tall. “I’m not trying to guilt you.”
“I don’t think you are. But just in case. I don’t know you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking, so I’m covering my bases.” Ryou stretches out into the room, the same long-limbed sprawl that he had over the whole couch. “Let me know if you have more questions. Or if you want to talk.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“You say so, but I’m really good at getting people to talk to me about their feelings.” Ryou gives him a smile that would be pure sunshine if it wasn’t for the sharp edges. “It’s the feelings tax.”
Dave shudders, because he genuinely isn’t sure if he wouldn’t rather be tortured again.
Ryou only hums, smug and pleased. He clearly thinks he’s going to win out in this.
“Anyway,” Ryou says. “Want me to tell Hal, or do you want to?”
“You,” Dave says immediately. “You can explain it better. I don’t really understand.”
“I barely do, but I get it. I’ll do it. And if I’m being honest with you, I might as well be honest with everybody.” Ryou snatches back his tablet and closes out the first window, then opens up a new one. It shows a video as Ryou hands it back.
On screen, a series of... ships(?) fly together, and there’s a flash of light, and then-
Seeing the bipedal robot, Dave’s first reaction is tension. Fear. This was supposed to be over, so how-
But then the details come through. No rail gun. No visible weapons that he can see at all, just a shield. There’s a flash, and then the robot has a sword, of all fucking things. That is on fire. Because why the fuck not.
This isn’t Metal Gear. This is something else. This is what REX was supposed to be from Otakon’s original plans.
This is a mecha.
(“Like in my Japanese Animes.”)
“This is one of the ways we fight that empire,” Ryou tells him, exaggeratedly chirpy. He’s already smug, clearly knowing he has Otakon by the short and curlies. “It does different things depending on who is inside and using the correct bayard. Mine gives it claws.” His chest puffs out with the pride of a little boy presenting his latest toy.
God, this kid is fucking young.
“You’re never going to get a moment’s rest from his questions,” Dave tells him.
“That’s okay, I like answering questions.”
“You like talking.”
“I do!” Ryou gives him a cheery smile and pops up to his feet with unselfconscious agility.
(Dave is trying not to think about how his body is going to react to sitting on this old couch for so long.)
“Going to join them?” Dave asks. He sinks back further into the couch, because if he’s going to suffer for sitting, it might as well be worth it.
Ryou looks out the window at the snow expanse of Alaska and frowns. “Nah, it’ll keep. Let them have fun. Besides, I’m not really a fan of the cold.”
Dave starts to nod, then frowns. “You’re in Alaska.”
“I don’t recall being asked my preference before I was carted off. Isn’t there a naval ship in Hawai’i or something? I’d have gone there.” Ryou glances back, then smiles softly. “I’m glad it worked out this way, though.”
Dave swallows, not sure how to respond to that. It looks sincere, and that makes it worse.
“It’s fine anyway. It doesn’t actually affect anything. I just don’t like it. That test I told you about was on an ice planet. I handle it, I just get disoriented sometimes. Forgive me if I’m a little loopy in the morning.”
“Sure,” Dave says, because what else can he possibly say. “We can get more thermals when we’re in town next.”
“That’d be nice.” Ryou’s soft expression suddenly snaps to that sly grin. “Do they have the kind with the butt flaps, or is that only in cartoons?”
“You’ll be thankful for the butt flaps when you have to shit at night,” Dave shoots back dryly, but he also... notices. The swap. The flip from soft to joking.
The habit isn’t familiar, but the abruptness is. Dave’s felt it himself, when he got dangerously close to something with feelings and emotional consequences, where people want something from him he doesn’t know how to provide. He goes from easy to tense, goes still in the face of a threat.
A very different adaptation, but maybe another thing they have in common.
“So where are you going?”
“Finishing something up for Sunny,” Ryou says. He glances back, then hesitates. “I can bring it here first, if you want. Parental approval and all.” He wrinkles his nose, like the idea is foreign and uncomfortable.
Dave can relate, and he’s the ‘parental’ in question. “Probably wise.”
“Sure.”
Ryou trots off, clomping his way up the stairs. Otakon got him house slippers which sit by the door, but after the first day he stopped using them. Dave guesses it’s because of the cold, if it bothers him so much.
When he comes back, it’s with a remote control - one that might have been cannibalized from Mk II’s original designs. And-
A tiny, but now recognizable robot.
“Didn’t you say that thing was a weapon?”
“The full sized version,” Ryou replies. “This one’s just a toy. I built one before, it’s a good distraction. I just want to do final tests before handing it over. Want to try?”
It turns out, ‘Mini Voltron Jr’, quickly renamed ‘Voltron Mk III’, can fly.
Dave isn’t totally sold on giving tiny thrusters to a kid’s toy, but he can’t deny it’ll make Sunny extremely happy. And Ryou demonstrates their safety by having one take off from his bare, natural palm, so it can’t be that bad.
That’s how Otakon and Sunny find them later - shoulder to shoulder on the couch, as Ryou coaches Dave into getting Voltron Mk III to do barrel rolls.
“What’s this?” Otakon asks, at first wary. But as he realizes what he’s looking at, it fades to genuine amusement.
“A surprise,” Ryou chirps. He stands and gestures for Sunny to replace him. “Here, Snake’s gonna show you how to fly Voltron.”
Dave gives Ryou a flat look for landing him with that particular responsibility. “Sure,” he finally says.
“Voltron?” Sunny repeats, artlessly awed and she takes in the toy.
Ryou’s expression softens all at once - something about the name or how Sunny said it has struck a chord. “Yeah,” he breathes back, then seems to shake off the effect. “And me and your Uncle Hal will have a boring adult talk.”
“Will we?” Otakon asks dryly. His eyes narrow, though his tone and posture stay friendly - probably for Sunny’s sake.
“It’s a good idea,” Dave says, catching Otakon’s gaze. He gives a firm nod. “He ran it by me first but he can explain better.”
“Oh.” Otakon blinks, looking between them. “Okay.” He draws the word out just slightly, but does seem reassured by Dave’s words. “Let’s talk then.” As they go, Dave’s still thankfully sharp hearing catches his soft tones. “If this is about building more of those things, I’m not really in the mech business.”
“Buddy,” Ryou says, giving him a hearty pat on the back. Otakon, to Dave’s pleasure, doesn’t even stumble. “I don’t really need your help with that. Or permission. But let’s talk.”
Dave watches them go, heart pounding in his throat. Like this is a threat. It kind of is. The point of no return. After this, there will be no protecting Otakon. No protecting himself.
But the potential rewards are worth it.
“How do you make it spin?” Sunny asks, reaching for the controls. Dave hands it over and winces as she immediately sends the toy careening into the wall, but it seems okay. The wall less so, but eh.
The point of no return.
For once, maybe that can be a good thing. For once, the future can be something to look forward to instead of dread.
Chapters: 1/5
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Kuron (Voltron)
Additional Tags: Kuron is Ryou (Voltron), Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Kuron (Voltron)-centric, Crossover, Once again between two fics and not two universes, Vacation, theme park, Welcome to Space Disney World, Clone bonding
Series: Part 10 of Don't Let's Start
Summary:
An accident with a piece of technology pulls Ryou into a new dimension - one built to be the ultimate theme park and vacation experience. Which would be great, except he's not supposed to be there and can't get home. Not only that, he finds himself attached to a familiar face.
I would very much like the "director's cut" on Ryou! Just the feel of him when you first started writing him and how it is now. What is your favorite thing about him?
You spoil me. Don’t stop. :)
The fun thing with Ryou was that I didn’t really have a plan for him at first. I just had to get out my feelings about S3, the fact that the retrieved Shiro was probably a clone, and what that meant. Because until that point, almost every single fic was about the clone being Sekritly Evil and going to Turn The Team Against Itself. And.... I saw The Journey. We saw what he was thinking. He loves the team. His entire motivation to survive was to get back to them.
He loves them and it was based on a lie. So what does that mean for him?
Thus, Over and Overture. I wanted the team to figure out the clone was... well, a clone, so I had to give them clues. That was the start of Ryou’s quirks, like his lack of taste. And from there, I just let them figure it out and followed the train of how people would react. I wanted a mix of accepting, neutral, and outright rejection, but I didn’t want it forced. That’s why Keith’s anger was less at the clone, and more at himself/frustration that Shiro was still out there. Yeah, he was looking for a fight and purposefully pushing, but it wasn’t because of Ryou, just the circumstances around him.
From there, the question became: What is Shiro who isn’t Shiro? If he has to be someone else, who does he become?
Part of it was driven by frustration. To Ryou’s perspective, he just woke up one day and he was in a clone body instead of the original. A ‘The Prestige’ kind of vibe there. But he couldn’t deny being the clone, and so there was an element of anger to his changes. Well, if he can’t be the person he thought he was, then you can’t hold him to the same standards. He’s going to goof around and have fun and say all the things he’s been biting back.
Then he needed to find a new niche and a new relationship with everyone else. Ryou wanted to stay on the castle, and wanted to be loved back the same way he loves them. Thus, how he keeps reaching out to help. He and Shiro actually weren’t supposed to get close, just tolerant. Ryou was going to focus on the rest. But instead he just... understood Shiro, and the caring nature and lack of a filter meant he wasn’t going to let him flounder when he knew exactly what caused it.
From there it spiraled. Ryou took those starting traits and decisions and ran with them hard, because he wanted to be as different as possible. It’s still a phobia of his, to be too similar to Shiro. He said in the latest fic that he’s ‘Shiro with the self control cut out’ and he’s not wrong to begin with. But at this point he does have his own thought processes.
(But seriously thank you for asking, I love talking about Ryou)
(Fanfic Directors cut! Ask me about the background of a fic)
There’s some body horror in this one. A not insignificant amount, even.
Excerpt
The entrance way is bare metal, the dark purple kind favored by the Galra. Just beyond it is a staircase that leads down to a huge platform, all of which overlooks the swirling, calm planet below.
The platform is covered in darkened pods.
Dozens of them line the platform. Below that, there's another floor with just as many. Beyond, Ryou can't see, but he wouldn't be surprised if it went further.
Ryou walks forward, feet moving on their own and head feeling too light to stay on his body. There’s static in his ears, which would frighten him except he recognizes the feeling of an oncoming anxiety attack.
"Oh," Hunk murmurs, his hand coming up over his mouth. "That's- are all those...?"
"I don't know," Pidge says quietly. Her fingers blur with the speed she types on her keyboard. "They're all dark, so maybe not. I'm trying to get into Haggar’s notes now. Give me a minute."
Yeah, Ryou's not going to sit around and wait. His feet keep going, and he vaguely hears other footsteps behind him. They're identical in gait at least for the moment. His fault - he’s falling into old habits.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ryou & Shiro (Voltron), Kuron & Shiro (Voltron), Adam & Kuron (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron)
Characters: Kuron (Voltron), Ryou (Voltron), Adam (Voltron)
Additional Tags: Past Relationship(s), Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Season/Series 07, Clones, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, If it was a movie it would be called 'meditative', Which is code for 'naval-gazing'
Series: Part 13 of Don't Let's Start Adjacent
Summary:
Right to the good parts 6 with Matt and Ryou? Ignore this if it doesn't strike your fancy, it's just a pair i came to like through reading DLS. Love you Boss!
Congratulations! One of your dreams has finally come true. Let me give you a big hug and wow, you’re warm…
Ryou held his breath, his hand hovering over the control panel.
Next to him, their shoulders mashed together, Matt squirms with excitement. His gaze darts from Ryou’s stalled hand to his face. “This for dramatic effect or something? Come on, man, turn it on. You’re killing me, here.”
Right. Turn it on. Simple as that.
Ryou screws his eyes closed and forces his finger to touch down on the screen.
There’s a pause, then the series of repulsors on the training room floor begin to hum in unison. The noise is still loud, but it totally fills Ryou’s ears.
Finally, he cracks open his eyes and looks down on the screen.
A digital map of his repulsor grid shows the status of each individual machine. And all are working in perfect unity.
Stepping back from Matt, Ryou takes hold of the pre-programmed training droid. He activates the programming, then gives it a firm shove into the field.
Immediately, the droid lifts as thought weightless. It swims in place, then kicks, testing the environment. Then the jetpack activates, and it zig-zags across the room, giving each section a test.
There are no holes. That entire section of the training room seems to have no gravity, though it’s still working perfectly where Matt and Ryou stand.
Matt bounces on his toes, eyes bright. “Looks good. Want to flip it?”
Ryou watches the droid carefully as it sits on the open air. Then he nods. “Yeah.” He touches the grid again.This time, the grid on the floor stops humming. Instead, the grid on the ceiling starts.
The droid lands heavily on one knee, and struggles to stand. It’s able to, but only barely. Then it begins its’ path, staggering back the way it came before.
It works.
Zero gravity and enhanced gravity. A perfect grid that can be altered to any need without ruining everything else in the room. They’ll be able to practice maneuvering in a vast array of different gravitational forces.
More importantly, Ryou did it. Himself. Alone. From conception to planning to building, Ryou had made this.
“I did it.”
Matt lets out a loud whoop and spins. He grabs Ryou in a fierce hug, even lifting him off his feet to twirl him in a short circle. “You did it!” He agrees, absolutely beaming. He lets Ryou down, but doesn’t let him go. Instead, his arms stay around Ryou’s waist, comfortable and warm.Ryou beams back, nearly giddy with it all. The casual touch is just one more amazing thing zipping through his head in a spiral. All that work, all that learning, all that stubborn determination had resulted in something so damn cool.
More than once, Ryou had doubted he had the mind for this. Shiro wasn’t a slouch, but he didn’t have nearly the technological genius of the Holts or Hunk. He was a pilot, and he’d learned enough to get him on the good missions. Nothing more.
Ryou wasn’t naturally gifted at this. He was smart, sure, but this wasn’t what came easily to him.
But he’d dug in his heels and learned to be good at it. That wasn’t something Shiro did often. Like with singing, if he wasn’t gifted, he was bad at it and it fell to the wayside. Shiro didn’t have the time, energy, or inclination to build up skills that weren’t necessary or naturally engaging.
But Ryou did.
Laughing, Ryou wrapped his arms around Matt’s shoulders and squeezed him tight in return. “I did,” he breathed, letting his awe sneak out. “Thank you for testing this with me.”
“You kidding?” Matt rocked Ryou from side to side. By now they were chest to chest, but he didn’t have to look up nearly as much as he used to. Matt came up to Ryou’s brows now, a far cry from when he used to settle around his shoulders. “After all that secrecy? Of course I was going to help! And it’s so cool. You want to try it?”
Damn, that was temping. But building this also meant that Ryou knew all the ways it could go wrong, and therefore all the ways he could get himself killed. “A couple more droid trials,” he replied. “But soon. You should come with.” Ryou hesitated, then ducked his head down so their foreheads brushed. “I want you there.”
Matt’s expression melted. His fingers clutched at the back of Ryou’s shirt as his eyes dropped to Ryou’s lips. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
That-
Meant something. Or maybe not.
Ryou licked over his lips, just to see if Matt’s eyes would follow them. They did. “You always did say Shiro was wasted on his jock job.”
“Yeah, I did. But you know what? He’s good where he is. And you’re exactly where you belong.”
Ryou’s chest filled with giddy warmth. Even in the midst of his current success, it was so damn nice to be validated. As someone different. As someone with his own skills and abilities.
It was especially nice when it was Matt.
Flying high on all his successes, Ryou looked down at Matt.
“Fuck it.”
Then he kissed him.
Matt’s hands snapped up to either side of Ryou’s jaw. When they pulled apart, his eyes were wide and gleeful. “Yeah. Exactly where you belong.”
Snickering, Ryou pressed their noses together. “Kissing, you mean?”
“Nah. Here.” Matt rubbed his thumbs along Ryou’s cheekbones. “In front of me. Making kickass experiments and being stupid hot while you do it.”
“I think I can do that.”
“I’m a scientist. You’re going to have to prove it.”
