#ayyyyyeeee

Though you were the first born in your family, you were born a girl. You have a younger brother who is loved by your parents while you're here sitting with nothing. You were always told to look after your brother and make sure he gets home safe from his sports practice and all. You weren't allowed to have your friends over but your brother always did bring his teammates over to play games and eat snacks made by your mom. Your brother's teammate, Jake, always took a fancy to you and asked if you ever wanna stuck around. He was your grade and also in your class. Before you can kindly reject, your brother does it for you, saying that you'll bore him and his friends.

Your brother and his team were practicing later than usual, and you stuck out to wait. You were the only one who knew how to drive, and your parents would've been mad if you drove home without him. While working on some homework, you heard a cry from the field and found out it was coming from your brother. You panicked, and the coach immediately called for an ambulance. Anxiously waiting for your brother at the hospital as Jake tried comforting you, you told him to bug off because he doesn't understand. Your parents come running and yell at you for not watching your brother. You were at fault for the cause of your brother's broken arm. Your brother tried talking to your parents, but they didn't care to listen and continued lecturing you. Upset, you tell them how you feel because they're playing favoritism while you're trying to survive on your own. Your brother later apologizes, not knowing how you felt and you forgive him. It wasn't his fault. Your parents have yet to apologize but you don't care. However, your brother starts rebelling against your parents and hangs out with you more.

Jake sees that you're smiling more with your brother and also talks with you too. You apologize for yelling at him and he doesn't take any offense to it. Instead, Jake slowly made became your friend too, and joined you and your brother. He told you a few things about how he felt about your story because his older brother gets everything and he gets hand-me-downs. You two share a laugh and many laughter along the way.

Your parents finally came around when your brother spoke with them. He stated how he felt you don't get the recognition of being his older sister who's always there for him when they couldn't be parents for him. They apologize and you accepted to relieve yourself from any pain you've felt.

Soon enough, Jake asked your brother's permission to take you to prom as his date. You accepted before your brother could reject. You held his hand, danced with him, and even got your first kiss with him.

When you're with Jake, you didn't feel any less or second to anyone. He put you first and loved you as any firsts should be. You thank him with your heart because you never knew love until Jake came along.

—

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game) Characters: Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, The Foxes (All For The Game), literally all of them, I'm tired and don't wanna type out all their lovely names, Jeremy Knox Additional Tags: Band Fic, basically the monsters are fall out boy, because I'm a bitch for edgy lyrics and so are they DAMNIT, Canon-Typical Violence, slowburn Summary:

Neil Josten is singing his last show tonight, he swears it.

But when the guest band playing with him turns out to be a recruiter team, with Kevin Day leading them, he does the only thing he knows–

Try running and then give into his obsession.

reincarnation!!!

Lance was the last one left.

Behind him, fire. Before him, Haggar. And around him? Shiro,unnaturally still, the sound of his last breath still ringing in the Galrancontrol room.

“All alone, little blue,” Haggar rasped, hands outstretchedin welcome of her believed victory. “What will you do now?”

Lance struggled to breathe, helmet long lost, breathpainfully rattling within the cage of his chest. His bayard was sparkinguselessly in his hand, still in its dormant form, refusing to become anyweapon, and his armour- his armour was a mess. The air was thick withthe peculiar smoke of Galran fire, threatening to blind him to what little hecould see through the blood dripping into his eyes, but Lance-

-he didn’t-

-he didn’t have time for this.

The quintessence – the ball of rapidly growing whirlpool ofa million different colours – set his teeth on edge, dancing to the tune ofHaggar’s machination. The ship around him was groaning, breaking at the seams,threatening to crack open and let them loose into the silent void of space.

They’d lost Keith some time ago, the sound of a wet gasp thelast thing they’d heard from his comms. Pidge had gone next – staying behind atthe Galran communications array to buy them time, to buy the universe time,for as long as she could before she’d be overrun. Shiro had shoved Lance andHunk onwards, staying at their back to prevent them from running to her, tokeep himself busy with them so he wouldn’t go back himself.

Hunk had-

Lance bit back a sob.

He couldn’t let their deat- (his brain stuttered, stopped,restarted again)- their effort go to waste. He couldn’t let the memoryof the castleship exploding into a supernova of brilliant stars – visible froma passing observatory window they’d just passed by – be in vain. Hecouldn’t let Haggar think she’d won – even if she’d had the entirety of the Galranempire’s war ships and resources at her beck and call, even if they’d knownthis’d be a suicide run, their final act as a team, their last chance.

The tinnitus he’d thought his own doubled in volume, thequintessence surging past the container it had started in and-

oh god.

-pulling them in.

The air whipped around him in a sudden frenzy, pulling athis face and body like spirits torn asunder, the smoke and fire disappearingalmost as fast as it had come. Haggar stood in the eye of the storm, laughtercarrying over the deafening whine that tore into a howling shriek thatclawed down Lance’s spine.

He didn’t have much time left.

He had to stop her now, before the quintessence grewstrong enough to not need her guiding hand. Before it grew strong enoughthat Coran’s quiet fears over its power was realised. Before it grew strongenough that it would do the very thing it had tried to do more than tenthousand years ago, when a young Zarkon and Alfor had first stumbled upon it.

If only he had a weapon.

Lance let the quintessence sucking gravity pull him closer,twisted his body to try and navigate what little he could until he reachedShiro’s body prone form. For some reason – for some stupidreason – he tried shaking the older man awake, tried turning Shiro over tosee his face, to ignore the charred circle on his chest and the stillwarm blood that painted his mouth. A sob broke free before he could swallow itback, ignoring the desperate need to call Shiro’s name, to lie over him andjust stop, just rest.

First it had been Zarkon. Then Lotor.

And finally, Haggar.

Dozens of planets destroyed, entire civilizations draineddry of the magic that powered the universe. The Blade of Marmora used as anexample of what happened to any Galra that dared to defy her rule. Thousands ofher own soldiers, burnt up in experiments after experiments after experiments,until none remained but the masked druids she’d created by her side, and thewar ships she’d kept from Zarkon’s rule.

He couldn’t let her continue. He couldn’t just stop,couldn’t just rest, not when he knew that she still thirsted for more.For the knowledge of what would happen if she let the crack openonce more, if she let whatever was on the other side – whatever was strongenough to create Voltron – finally break through to their side.

He had to stop her.

His trembling hand ran through Shiro’s dirty, matted hair,stupid sentimentality making him waste precious seconds he wouldn’t be able toget back. His other moved to grab Shiro’s hand, to try and bring some peace bystraightening it out from it’s awkward position, but it bumped into somethinghard.

Something… oddly shaped.

He blinked the blood out of his eyes, staring at the black bayardstill gripped within Shiro's human hand.

If only he had a weapon.

Around him, the ship groaned, the sound of creakingmetal warning him of imminent doom. The wind generated by the now black hole ofquintessence tugged at him harder, Shiro’s body beginning ever so slightly toinch across the ground towards it.

His hands – his trembling, scratched up, raw hands – priedthe dormant bayard out of his friend’s loose grip. He didn’t know if he coulduse it. He didn’t know if it was even still working.

But.

“This,” Haggar began behind him, “is the dawn of a new era.”

But.

“This!” She crowed, delighted, “is the culmination often thousand years of work.”

But.

“This!” She screamed, the quintessence almost swallowingher whole when Lance turned to face her, “is my life’s greatestachievement!”

The bayard glowed in his hand. First purple, then red, thengreen and yellow and finally- blue. A solid blue, just like his armour, justlike his lion, solid and steady in its glow.

Lance remembered Allura – decked in her pink paladin armour– allowing them to leave her behind, knowing her place was at her podium,controlling the Castle of Lions with Coran as her aid. The way she’d watchedthem go, eyes begging to join them, but her lips shut tight.

He’d have one shot. Haggar wouldn’t allow anymore.

And so he breathed in, raising the still glowing bayard upto eye level. Breathed out, ignoring the bright flash of light it gave as itchanged into its active state.

And pressed the trigger.

#

Lance was the last one left.

Behind him lay the still figure of the man he stillconsidered his hero. Before him, visible across Haggar’s frozen face as shestared at him from across their self-imposed grand divide, was shockeddisbelief.

“All alone, little blue,” Haggar rasped, lone hand touchingthe new, perfect hole between her brows, fingertips rubbing the red blood sheshared with humans, not Galrans. “But it’s already too late.”

And around him?

The certainty that she was right.

He was too late.

The quintessence – the out of control ball of now blinding,golden white – sparked in every direction, the haunting shriek echoing into ahundred layered voices as Haggar fell gracelessly, arms wide open, into it’sterrifying maw. She disappeared within the piercing glow, and Lance stared indull horror as the magic pulsed, throwing a bolt of lightning so large atthe ceiling that it almost blinded him.

He struggled to breathe, repeatedly blinking theaftereffects of the lightning from his vision, and stumbled closer, not certainwhat to do. He’d only thought to stop Haggar, had hoped – hoped –stopping her would stop this, but-

-But he’d failed.

He was all alone, he was absolutely all alone,because Shiro was dead. Keith was dead. Pidge and Coran andAllura were dead. Hunk-

Hunk was-

His Hunk was-

Quintessance.

Lance came to a screeching halt.

The quintessence in front of him kept growing, somethinglike primal fear gripping him whenever he thought he saw something within it’sdepth. The ship wouldn’t last much longer, promising a quicker – relatively known– death in the form of the vacuum of space as opposed to whatever death thequintessence before him offered.

But something niggled at Lance’s mind. Something he’d onlyvaguely thought of, but never realised. He was the blue paladin, Allura wasthe blue paladin, somehow they shared the same traits to pilot the Blue Lion (-ainpain pain the gaping hole in his soul where she’d been pain pain pai-), andyet Allura had been able to nullify the quintessence that had threatened toblow out the entire sector back on planet Naxzela.

But he couldn’t- could he?

Something urged him forward, urged him to take another step,to- to try. Because he couldn’t stop now, not after everything, notafter everything. With each step, his back straightened, his thoughts-his thoughts became clearer, his conviction stronger.

He thought he felt the gentle waves of the ocean, for abrief moment. Thought he felt her, filling the hole in him she’dcreated, buoying him like a ship without sail to the safety of the shore.

But she wasn’t there. She’d never be there again. Just likehis friends, just like his team. And he couldn’t let that go to waste.

So Lance stood in front of the whirling terror that screamedat him, stood still as the light grew tenfold and began reaching for him, tinyclutches of burning fire pulling at his arms and legs and face.

He closed his eyes, shutting it all out, shutting the noiseand the pain that scorched every part the light touched. And he-

“Feel the energy,” Allura murmured, coaching them throughthe mind meld. “Feel the very essence of each other. Let their quintessenceimprint amongst you, and do the same in return. This,” she said proudly, as theteam released an exhale in unison, “is Voltron.”

-the light screamed, a distinctly human sound, thehundred layers of voices expressing their frightened rage at the sudden roar that echoed.

Lance snapped his eyes open, the sense memory of Voltronthrilling through his veins as he reared his arm up, the black bayard – the bayard,he still had that? – twisting horizontal so it aligned as if about to beshoved into it’s waiting slot, and did just that.

The light – the cruel, blinding goldish white – rippled aroundthe bayard, shrieking as it activated and glowed a brilliant blue that trickledoutwards like gentle streams branching from the raging river. It overtook thelight, glittering ocean crystals so painfully like the home he hadn’t seen inyears threatening to choke Lance, before it drained it all back into thecontainer Haggar had sprung it free from. The layered scream, the burninglight, the sheer terror suddenlydisappeared, cut short the moment the blue-black bayard drained it so.

His knees suddenly gave out on him, dropping him to thefloor.

His ears popped, but he heard no noise.

And around him, silence.

Somehow, he pushed and pulled himself towards the onlyvestige of warmth he had left. Shiro’s body lay sprawled closer to him thanbefore, his expression suddenly peaceful from what Lance had last seen. Hedidn’t have the black bayard with him anymore – swallowed with the light andeverything else – but he didn’t think Shiro would mind, all things told.

He finally gave in to the urge he’d had before, laying hishead across Shiro’s stomach, pillowing it against the hard muscles he’d alwaysadmired. Shiro’s hand – his human hand – was somehow still warm, warm enoughthat he could pretend, if he really tried, that Shiro was squeezing his handjust as hard as Lance was squeezing his.

His armour was all but gone at this point – burnt away bywhatever the hell had been struggling to come through from the other side – andhis skin, his everything, was on fire in a way that left him breathless.

Off to the side, something popped. Air suddenly beganwhistling away, as if escaping through a small, pinprick hole in a balloon.

So the ship had finally broken.

That was okay though. Lance didn’t want to be the last oneleft. He wouldn’t have been able to escape even if he could have stood up atthis point. He was always going to meet his end here.

But that was okay as well. He wasn’t afraid.

Somehow, he mused to himself, eyes slowly sliding shut, he justwasn’t afraid.

#

The coffee shop, branded ingeniously as ‘The Coffee Shop’, was located right at the doorstep of the sciences campus, in a perfect position for would be engineers and doctors and physicists to come stumbling in at all hours of the day to survive just a little bit longer.

Occasionally, Lance mused to himself with a grin, the lone law student would come staggering through, dazed and roughed up, a tie wrapped around their forehead like a badge of honour hailing the ridiculous party they’d just come from.

Who knew law students were wild, man.

Today, however, was a quite day. Close to noon but not quite, the coffee shop was bathed in almost incandescent sunlight, autumn heralding the view from their windows with red and gold leaves.

Few customers sat around the store, all in scarves and warm mitts, cradling their hot or cold drinks with a slow, languid warmth that settled deep into everyone’s pores.

Lance’s phone buzzed, grabbing his attention for a while, snickering at the ongoing war between his sister Talia and his brother Juan. The sibling group chat had recently undergone a purge; Juan, deciding the sibling group chat should remain the sibling group chat, and not include cousins upon cousins upon cousins. Talia had taken it as a declaration of war and rallied the flag of her wronged brethren, igniting the current warfare keeping his phone buzzing endlessly.

The door chimed in the distance, but Lance was too busy rapidly typing out a comment to hear. His brother unleashed a string of gibberish to truly get across his disbelief at Lance’s nerve, and then added a truly terrifying single emote of a cup of tea. It made absolutely no sense, but that was what made it terrifying - Juan was going to get revenge for Lance siding with Talia, and his only clue was the single, steaming tea.

“Um, hello?”

Crap.

“Hello!” Lance yelped in reply, shoving his phone into a pocket as he look-

-pain.

Pain lanced across his temples, drilling into his eyes with a ferocity that stole his breath away. Lance flinched, snapping his eyes shut to the Asian face he’d only caught a glimpse of, hands snapping up to his head in a vain attempt at stopping the pain.

It drilled into him for a moment, threatening to snap his brain in two, when, after what felt like an eternity, it finally began to fade, in pulses and waves, but fade nonetheless.

Wincing at the remnants that remained, Lance peeled open an eye, remembering the customer far too late.

The customer, tall and broad shouldered, stared back at him, something hauntingly familiar about his face. He was Asian, like Lance had noticed, older slightly, with a forelock of shocking white against a dark undercut. Scar across his nose (no, a part of Lance rejected, he shouldn’t have that, not here) that only added on to his general handsomeness.

And staring at him, Lance realised with an uncomfortable start, the sudden headache still whispering in the dregs of his mind, threatening to return with a vengeance.

“Uh...” Lance began cleverly, unnerved by the strange expression on the other’s face. “Can I... help you?”

“Lance,” the stranger replied, the name rolling of his tongue with a familiarity that did little to ease Lance’s trepidation. Nothing came afterwards, like how one would actually carry on after saying someone’s name, just... Lance.

How did this guy know Lance’s name?

Because, and here was the thing, right, because Lance would’ve known this person if this person knew him. He was like six foot four, a ridiculous beefy chunk of Asian prime meat, this guy, whoever the hell he was, would be a known entity on this campus, and if he knew Lance’s name, then damn well Lance would’ve known his.

But he didn’t.

And Lance didn’t like that.

He really, really, didn’t like that.

(purple, smoke, old, croaky voice, laughing, bright light, pain, pain, pAIN-)

No. (No.) Lance was not doing this again.

“What can I get you?”

The man stared at him, stared at him, and, almost in a daze (was he a law student? No, a voice whispered, not quite,), said, “Coffee, please.”

And that was good. That was easy. Lance could- he could do that. He made a noise of assent as he turned to do just that, hands working on autopilot as he tried to quieten the tempest of his storms. The drink was finished quickly enough, the amount ringed up, and the Asian quickly paid and took a sip of his drink.

“Huh,” the Asian said, finally breaking his creepy stare to look down at the drink in his hand. “Just... how I like it.”

And Lance-

He-

(two purple satchets of what was essentially sugar, a splash of Kalt”ej3FQJ/’c milk, and a little green cube that was basically mint)- who the fuck drank their coffee with mint?

Wait, he’d added... He’d added mint to the coffee? He-

He had.

Why had he done that? How had he known?

The headache surged, pounding at the space behind his eyes, and Lance- he-

“Oh, whoops!” -He grinned, slapping the expression and easy tone on with practised ease. “Sorry, but it’s my break now! I’m glad you like your drink, bye!”

The Asian suddenly looked alarmed, a hand (human, a part of him screamed, though if in pleasure or horror Lance could not tell) reaching up to- to what? Lance had no idea, and he didn’t want to know. “Wait, Lance-”

“Gotta go!” He interrupted, hives breaking out across his skin at the way the stranger said his name, at the way the stranger looked at him, like- like-

(-the ship was breaking around him, air was coming in, the walls were groaning, folding in-)

He burst into the backroom, startling Suzy, gasping for breath. He waved her off, pointing a hand at the shop behind him, and Suzy - bless her chemical engineering heart - gave him a thumbs up and flounced out with a loud, “Heave ho! Suzy is here to save the day!”

In the quiet of the backroom, Lance fumbled his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the fifty plus messages from the group chat, and pulled up a new text message. He typed out his message with shaking fingers, ignoring the headache that steadily drove at him, relentless, and waited with baited breaths until his phone pinged in reply.

Five o’clock tomorrow. Okay. Great. He could do that.

He was really lucky he had such a great psychiatrist. The headaches? The familiarity? The- the things he thought he saw sometimes? God, not now, not when midterms were so close. He could not lose it now.

Haggar would help him.

Both get up pretty early, but Steve is usually awake first and makes them both coffee/breakfast

Which then leads to my favorite cliche of a very tired Bucky wrapping his arms around Steve and gives his Cap lazy little kisses on the back of his neck while he's in the middle of making said coffee/breakfast.

Bucky was worried about being public with their relationship at first, what with the forties not being too entirely queer-friendly, but was quick to throw that concern to the wind when he realized times had gotten better and completely showers Steve in affection everywhere they go. Public or not. 

(And yes, a part of it is definitely just to show off that he is, in fact, dating the Captain America. Be jealous.)

Steve isn’t as affectionate as Bucky is, but isn’t against it. He loves the surprise kisses and hand holding is always the best. 

That being said, being boyfriends in public is not always received well by everyone. What I mean by that is, homophobic asshole who think it’s a good idea to harass them both and insult them. 

Bucky actually doesn’t really mind, he just shrugs it off and goes back to holding his hand and kissing his cheek at random times. He’s just glad to not be thrown in jail. 

It’s Steve that’s the issue.

He always has to be held back from scolding people on how bigotry and prejudice are not patriotic and America was not built to be an intolerant, haTEFUL COUNTRY! AND- NO, BUCKY I WILL NOT STOP! THIS IS NOT OKAY, NO CIVILIAN SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS! LET GO OF M-

Bucky constantly makes fun of Steve’s terrible tolerance to the sun, because despite being a super soldier, there are just some things that can’t save you. 

Sunburn is one of those unsaveable things apparently. 

He still has a tan line around his biceps from when he ran in the park with a t shirt and Bucky just can’t help but snort. Even buys him more sleeveless tops just to show them off. Steve hates it, but amuses his boyfriend anyway because he loves him very much. (That and omg, these are the comfiest shirts ever.)