So… this turned out to be quite long again, but I don’t care. I had so much fun doing this :3
Pressure. There had been pressure at the back of his head lately. It felt like something was pushing against his mind, trying to coax Kuro into letting it in.
At first he’d thought this was another terrible experiment, another sick joke the Druids were pulling to make him break and give up what little humanity he’d regained since Shiro was there with him. Their mind-tricks and brainwashing methods were the worst ones. But that idea was discarded quickly… Because it didn’t feel cruel or malicious. It didn’t feel as cold and intrusive as Druid magic would. It was just… there. Warm and constant, but never demanding.
Shiro felt it to. If his searching gaze and withdrawn behaviour was anything to go by. Sometimes Kuro swore he saw something like recognition flit over those painfully familiar features. But as fast as it came, it faded again. Weighed down by the pure awareness of just where they were.
Kuro never asked about it.
Until that one day… the day the Druids let them see their newest creation.
There was nothing he could do but wait. And that’s exactly what he did. Everyday, every single minute he didn’t spend on saving planet after planet - saving lives. Every. Fucking. Second.
He’d sit and wait. Sit and wait.
Some days he went mad with impatience. He had a feeling that time was running out for both of them, him and Shiro. And all he could do was sit in Black’s cockpit and concentrate. On what? He had no idea. It hadn’t been his idea in the first place. But Black had insisted on trying to get a hold of Shiro through their bond.
But sitting in his place, in his lion, playing his role as the leader of Voltron didn’t help Keith concentrate at all. It just made him more restless.
Still, Black insisted. Because she loved Shiro… And she knew Keith did, too. She had known it all along.
So they both sat in the Black Lion’s hangar and listened; reached out into the endless nothingness of space, trying to feel the familiar warmth of the Black Paladin’s soul. Keith had no idea how this was supposed to work - but he guessed it had something to do with Lion magic. Black had tried to explain it to him once… she had tried to explain that she, because of her own bond with Shiro, worked like an amplifier to the connection Keith and Shiro shared. She even tried to tell him something about two beings made from the same quintessence and fate and all that stuff, but Keith hadn’t even been listening at that point. All he knew was, that he wanted Shiro back. And he would do anything to find him.
The moment it had worked, the moment he felt the other Paladin’s presence emerge from the darkest depth of the universe, had him almost fainting with relief and joy. Shiro was alive. Above all the white noise and static of space, Keith could still feel him, like a signature his soul had left behind, and hold onto that. He was alive. And Keith would find him.
All he had to do was work with Black to establish a proper connection to Shiro, to get a grasp on him, and then find out where he was.
Well… easier said than done.
For there was something else. Something that distracted Keith time and time again. There was a presence, another signature the Black Lion could follow - could connect to in a way. It looked - or rather felt - like a faded, almost washed-out version of Shiro’s soul. If he’d have to describe it, he’d say it felt like looking at two different hues of the same color.
Keith didn’t pay much attention to it…
Until the day Shiro’s signature went silent. Still there, but unresponsive and still. Shutting them out. The only thing Keith could definitely feel was dread
That’s when he knew their time was up.
They’d let them see. Because they knew how much it would affect Shiro. They knew it would break him. Make him give up all hope.
The Druids had showed them their newest monster. A giant made of steel and wires. Just for Shiro. This would be his final transformation. He’d become machinery - heart and soul. A robeast.
It had been his very first time witnessing a panic attack from up close… and it almost choked Kuro himself. There was just so much a human being could take. And Shiro had reached a point where he could take no more. All Kuro could see in the other man’s face was fear. Pure, all-consuming fear.
He’d die. He’d die. He’d die. HE’D DIE. Shiro would die. He knew it.
All Kuro could do was sit and watch with growing concern for his new-found friend. What should he do? How could he help Shiro? How could they get out of this alive?
He needed to save Shiro from this kind of fate. Because Shiro deserved it. He deserved to live.
During their shared time in captivity, the Galra-hybrid had grown quite fond of the not-so-monstrous Champion. Shiro was… well. Shiro was the closest thing Kuro had to family. There HAD to be a way for them to get out of this.
Shiro sat, huddled up into the far corner of their cell, shivering and breathing way too fast for Kuro’s liking. No words had been spoken since they’d seen the robeast in its hangar. Shiro had been eerily silent the whole trip back to their cell.
Come on, come ON!, he thought, wracking his brain for a solution. For a way out. There has to be something.Just SOMETHING!
Kuro didn’t notice the pressure in the back of his head growing… until it was too late.
Something pulled at the seams of his mind, something big and dark - but not evil. If he concentrated enough, he could feel the presence embrace him, encircle him with warm darkness.
Let me in.
Let me in, a deep voice repeated. He’d never heard it before… But still it sounded… familiar. Warm and thick like honey. He couldn’t tell whether it was a woman or a man speaking. It sounded…beyond physical manifestation; beyond the universe itself.
We will help you.
Alright, Kuro thought, now wasn’t the time to talk to voices inside your head. He had to find a way out of here. It was only a tad bit alarming, that voices, no one else seemed to hear, didn’t really faze him anymore. There had been worse, he told himself.
Who was “we” anyway?
Me and Keith, the voice provided.
Wait a second…. Keith? THE Keith? As in “Red Paladin Keith”? Keith from Earth? The Keith Shiro wouldn’t stop talking about?
The presence gave an affirming nudge, because yes, they were talking about the same person. Holy shit.
But why? How? He had so many questions. But for now only one was important:
Can you get us out of here?
Relief flooded his very being. Good. This was- good. But they didn’t have much time. They had no idea when the guards would come to take Shiro. It could be any moment now.
You’ll need to hurry, Kuro thought, trying to dig everything he’d seen in that hangar up from his mind. You need to-
We know. We’re already on our way.
We’ll try to get your way, then.
Can you do us a favor, first?
Kuro hesitated. The soft pressure at the back of his head had spread over the past few minutes. Whatever they were, whatever kind of magical shit their saviors-to-be were pulling… It had spread over his body. Like something tried to squeeze into his body, beside his own mind.
What kind of favor?
Let him talk to Shiro.
I don’t think I-
… This was crazy. This was so, so crazy. But was there anything left for him to lose? If this was a trap, would it really matter? Taking a look at Shiro, who still sat on the ground, shaking like a leaf and staring absently ahead without really seeing, Kuro decided it was worth a shot. Or his mind, to be more precise.
He hadn’t finished that thought, when it already hit him. Red hot and blazing like a dying star; like a burning arrow shot right through his very core. Melting him, burning him… filling up the frayed ends of his mind, where the arena and the labs had taken pieces of him. Until he was whole again. Better than whole. He was more.
He could feel the blazing presence, the very soul of the Red Paladin melt into him and take control of what was his. His thoughts, his feelings, his body. And Kuro let him.
For he could feel everything the Paladin poured into his being. Desperation, sorrow, longing, love. A love that burned brighter than a supernova. Kuro could feel it sear his chest, his throat, his mouth on its way up. He could feel it pressing against his jaws, forcing them to open; his mind already giving the order to speak - without him realizing it. His mind wasn’t his anymore. But he didn’t care.
“S-Shiro?”, even his voice sounded off. A bit high-pitched, less guttural. “Shiro? Are you there?”
The former Champion froze. Wide eyes darted towards him, disbelieve written all over his face. It took him a few seconds to realize what - or better who- he’d just heard. Kuro could tell the exact moment it hit him.
“Yeah”, the strange voice spoke again. The words felt fuzzy and alien on his tongue. “We’re on our way. Just hang on.”
Yay I finall made it :D @kuroweek sorry for the delay!
Honestly I’m still, 2 weeks later, pissed the fuck off over the Maggie/Kara conflict, ie. blatant lie the CW made up just for conflict purposes. I can’t remember a time Kara has ever tried to solve a problem by punching her way out before she has tried to talk her way out of things. It’s a lesson she learnt in Human For A Day and has always tried to talk to people, usually before Alex can have a chance at shooting them. Remember how much Kara tried to talk down Astra for most of season 1 and she was getting through to her, and Alex went straight for the kill? If anything, the words/fists argument should have been between Maggie and Alex, since Alex shoots first asks questions never and even went as far to blow up CADMUS while she was in the building.
And then in Resist, when Kara tries to talk Rhea down from invading Earth, and in fact fucks the whole plan to blow up the mothership because Alex had to wait to fire the cannon and then it got destroyed, because Kara wanted to talk to Rhea.
I’m not even gunna talk about the fact that Maggie just happened to know who Guardian is despite never being told, and the blatant reuse of the mind controlled family member at the end of the penultimate episode that has to fight Kara into the final episode.
Honestly it’s like they hire a new writer every week and make sure whoever they hire hasn’t seen a single episode of Supergirl.
It’s okay, for your life is only a rough sketch. It does not need to have every little edge drawn in precisely. It does not need to look a certain way. It does not need to be perfect. Your life is a drawing and you are the artist, but this drawing takes time, so don’t rush it.
A snippet of a Klance-ish thing that I might be writing right now with like alien mind-control parasite-eque things.
*flings this into the internet and jumps back into my trash bin*
“Leave Lance alone. Get the fuck out of him, you piece of—“
“Pidge!” He lets out a mocking gasp, a scandalized hand over his
chest. “Watch your language, young
lady!” Shiro has to hold her back from him by the collar, his eyes steely.
“You heard her.”
“Well, seeing as you asked so nicely—“ He breaks off again, laughing
as he ducks to avoid a swing from a fuming Keith. “Okay, now this is just
getting irritating. Here, how about I don’t dodge your next blow? Let’s just
get this over with. Or you, Pidge, care to use that little bayard of yours on
“Go on! Do it! Hurt me, and him
along with me. That’s what you’re threatening to do, right?”
Pidge stutters, uncertainty in her
He smirks. “Exactly. Let’s just end
this little charade and acknowledge who’s really in control here, shall we?” He
takes a step towards Keith’s blade, smile widening as he pulled it away
slightly, the anger on his face being replaced slowly by fear. “I’m as good as
untouchable to you in this body, aren’t I, and I’d just hate it if something were to… happen to it.” He traces a fingernail
down the veins in Lance’s wrist; Hunk looks sick to his stomach. Lance laughs, throwing his head back in a way
that was far too familiar, too friendly, too Lance. Suddenly, he stops, and stares at Shiro like a predator, a
dangerous glint in his eyes. “Lovely. Let’s have a talk, shall we, fearless leader?”