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lesbianbooradleypsued · 4 years

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The Etherian Party Bus: Point Zero

Fandom: She-ra and the Princesses of Power Pairing: Adora/Catra Word Count: 6,898

Summary: As Darla approaches the point of no contact with Etheria, Adora thinks about how they got to this point. Just 7 months ago they'd won the war, and now she doesn't know if her little crew will ever return. Or After the defeat of Hoard Prime, Catra and Hordak were exiled for four years. Adora and Entrapta refused to accept being separated from them for that long, and loaded the two of them on Darla and then set out for parts unknown in space. Adora is currently considering everything that has happened to get them to this point as they are about to leave contact range with Etheria. Catra joins her on the bridge.

Notes: So this is just one part of a series. They'll be posted out of order with the time stamps at the beginning. Haven't written in a long while so have mercy on me. X-posted to AO3 as well.

Tags: Smut, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Biting, Scratching, light bdsm aspects, Top Adora, Bottom Catra, Blow Jobs, Adora Has a Penis, Recreational Drug Use, if i forgot a tag tell me, Fluff, Not Beta Read

Seven Months Out

The rhythmic thump of heavy bass from two floors down on Darla thrummed through Adora's relaxed body like a second heartbeat.

She was shamelessly lounging on the bridge in her Captain's chair in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, a white tank top, and the comfortable black slip on shoes she wore day to day around Darla. Her right leg was draped over the plush arm of her chair and her left leg was cocked out, resting comfortably on the floor. Her right arm was folded behind her head and her left was lazily holding onto a glass filled with shimmery dark purple liquid that rippled in sync with the bass.

The bridge was dark save for the few ever present blinking red lights on the various dash boards and panels surrounding the six strategically placed seats that now comprised the ship's bridge. All Entrapta and Hordak's designs. It was just those lights and of course the large windows filled with the brilliant kaleidoscope of stars that were reflected in Adora's peaceful hazed over blue eyes.

She was lost in reflection.

In front of her were countless galaxies filled with countless lifeforms and Adora wanted to meet and learn about them all. And hopefully quell that insatiable drive in her that'd been building steadily for the last four months of the exile to just keep going.

Adora finally knew what a passion was now, something not born out of circumstantial upbringing or a sense of duty, but something you do because you want to. She wants to explore further every day just to find out something new, chart new stars, learn about a different species cultures. She wants to see what Catra feels like in her arms there with her through every new experience, so far removed from their prior life. Untethered. She knows very little about the First Ones, most of it not great, but she does know they were explorers. She figures that's where this passion must come from.

Behind her, falling further and further away every second is Etheria. It's so far away now it's no longer visible even at their highest scanning capacity.

After seven months in space, the last four of them spent finally finding out what kind of person she was outside of child soldier/She-ra, Adora's feelings about their abrupt, messy departure from their home planet had managed to settle down between resignation and dull betrayal.

It's still a very tender spot. Her logical brain understands that Catra and Hordak couldn't just escape any type of punishment for their literal war crimes. It wouldn't be fair to the countless lives forever changed by them. She also will begrudgingly concede that it would have been a slap in the face to every citizen of Etheria if Glimmer had just gone against the public demand and pardoned them. She is also begrudgingly grateful that Glimmer had ordered the most minimal punishment she had within her power as Queen.

But four years exile still seemed so long. Too long. Even longer now that she knew what her and Catra actually had. She thought she had loved Catra at seventeen, but that feeling was hardly a single star in the quadrant compared to the way she felt about her now. And she knew that with every day that passed, the feelings were just getting more and more intense. She couldn't imagine going four days without the magicat, four years was absurd.

Less than an hour after the sentencing they had left Etheria in a messy, absolutely traumatic scene on the front lawn of Brightmoon. Two of them were convicted criminals who had just been exiled from Etheria and two of them were Princesses who refused to just accept being parted for four years, the need to rebuild Etheria be damned. And as an extra spicy surprise they found out a couple of months in, that Double Trouble had stole'd away on Darla for reasons Adora was still unclear on. Something about drama and possibly being wanted.

The first few months in space had been a disaster Adora acknowledged, taking a sip of her drink and savoring the smooth herbal flavor. They had been blindly chasing the idea of restoring magic to the universe like it was their assigned mission, and not just a distraction from their current situation.

The immediate space around Etheria, it turned out, was not nice to begin with.

In the month since Prime's demise a power vacuum had opened up in the area. Entire planets were without the resources to rebuild themselves and were more than willing to fight for them, and there were opportunistic ships filled with bandits everywhere. It was chaos.

And they had flown into the middle of all that and loudly pronounced they had killed Prime and were magic.

Que a three month long shit storm.

They all just suffered.

Entrapta retreated into herself, barely coming out of the engine room unless they were under attack or broke down. She had been shaken to the core by her sudden loss of confidence in the friendships she had tentatively built over the last three years. Friendships she thought were built on mutual respect for their unique abilities and qualities. Entrapta knew she was the smart one. But only Adora, Scorpia, Wrong Hordak, and Catra had spoken on Hordak's behalf even though Entrapta provided sufficient evidence that by killing Prime in the way She-ra had, it had changed Hordak in fundamental ways. Yes he was responsible for what he had done, took responsibility for it, but he was also literally a new being.

When She-ra knocked Prime's ass out of Hordak's body and vanquished him, it was like being baptised, exorcised, and reborn simultaneously. All the clones had experienced it. Hoard Prime could not control them even again, could never take control of them again. An order coded into their very DNA that demanded them to conquer all for Prime was obliterated. That drive, an instinct really, had been as deeply ingrained into them as breathing was.

Hordak was not really washed anew like the other clones though. He didn't go from a mindless drone in a hive mind like the others, no, he'd spent thirty years waging war in Prime's name on Etheria. He was now without purpose. He was overwhelmed with emotions he did not know he was capable of that lurched violently from happiness to guilt and more often than not ended up at rage. He spoke very rarely to anyone but Entrapta unless it was to loudly argue with Adora or Catra or both of them.

Adora had spent those first few months just absolutely drenched in anger and bitterness. Her mind circled around all of the hurt that had been caused during the last three years. So much of it was Adora and Catra's. They were hit with traumatic event after traumatic event for three years, after a traumatic as fuck childhood. And against all odds they had escalated and pushed that stalemate of a war to an end where everyone won. And now because apparently they couldn't have nice things, and Adora was not smart, they found themselves in a big galaxy filled with unexpected dangers. And what were they doing? Chasing and dodging said dangers because they were just barreling ahead under her command asking every being they met if they needed their magic topped off. She was being absolutely reckless and every near catastrophe circled back to two thoughts. I'm not good enough and how could Catra love me?

Catra had felt horrible that Adora had just given up her life on Etheria so she could stay with Catra. But she felt downright evil that she had selfishly agreed to it with very little argument. Adora had pointedly told Catra that this was what she wanted. How could she deserve this? After everything that had happened Adora had chosen her? Wanted her by her side to explore this precious thing they'd started? How could she say no? It was hard for anyone but them to understand how much it meant for Adora to say those words aloud. She wanted Catra. She could not actually believe it still. Fought herself against the notion in fact. She spiraled in self hatred and guilt. Which of course meant she lashed out at Adora because that's what she did.

Adora and Catra got stuck in a vicious cycle of fight, avoid, apologize, rinse, and repeat that went on for two months. And then finally after a truly shitty day, even by those early standards, it came to a head. Catra gathered all three of the brain cells aboard Darla and had a big "aha moment". They actually had their first real mostly calm and open discussion about their feelings and baggage in their lives. They also had sex for the first time. It was a really big aha moment.

Adora hadn't thought it was possible to fall more in love with the magicat but she did. After the incident, Catra began opening up in earnest to Adora. She whispered confessions of love and attraction into her ear, began to slowly become more physically affectionate towards her. Adora's focus started to shift from saving the universe to saving them. If Catra was safe, she was calm enough to be vulnerable for Adora, and it turns out Adora needed that vulnerability like fucking oxygen. It made her better, made her feel like she could do anything in the universe she wanted. It made Adora believe that Catra loved her for her, and not for what Adora could do.

So less running around space with her whole ass showing; ending them up in dangerous situations every other day, and more let's just go away from that situation and see what's over there.

But not enough because they all nearly died in a fiery blaze three months in.

Adora had snapped after healing Catra's broken ribs, pointed Darla in the general direction of far away, and gunned it. They'd cleared the small cluster of planets nearest Etheria that they had been nervously darting around for three months, getting their asses handed to them, and just kept going. She just put the whole magical quest on the back burner indefinitely. It wasn't working, was actively endangering them in fact. It was not conducive to a vulnerable safe Catra.

When they were a safe distance away she had hidden the ship in an asteroid field and Meelog cloaked them. And then Adora had turned to Catra and asked her what she thought they should do next. It had been a very wise decision.

Catra had taken control immediately. First she encouraged/ordered Entrapta and Hordak to use their combined intelligence and any means necessary to get Darla up to date and better suited to surviving four years in space. They absolutely ran with it. They'd practically completely redesigned the layout of the ship and had even managed to expand its size over the last four months. Darla was taking on the character of a jigsaw puzzle with all the different colored materials covering her hull now. Double Trouble called it Junker Chic, Adora said she had character.

After that, and another near death experience for Adora, the magicat had proposed becoming diplomats of sorts for Etheria. Space was dangerous Catra pointed out, and that danger would likely come for Etheria again eventually. Having strong ties to planets already established in the quadrant has leaders could only be helpful.

And as her last decision Catra had released Adora from any responsibility except for occasionally parading She-ra out when the situation called for it. Her girlfriend had poked and prodded at the new ember of passion in Adora's heart until it was a raging fire.

It had been an amazing change in their lives.

Still seven months in space and in her heart, Adora was still so raw from the sheer trauma of the entire trial, convictions, and absolutely cataclysmic immediate aftermath. She'd had to carry Catra aboard Darla because the magicat was crying so hard. She felt...betrayed? Somehow used in a way she couldn't express? She had nearly died over and over and over again for Etheria. She nearly lost Catra forever for Etheria. And all they got were two weeks before everything went to absolute shit and strangers who didn't know the full story started demanding Catra's permanent exile. Some had even called for execution despite Etheria not having a death sentence. "Make one" someone had said. Adora had nearly ran them through with her sword.

Adora knows if they are ever gonna return at the end of the exile she's gotta heal more. Has to get to a place where she wants to go back. They all do.

Two decks down, in Darla's expanded cargo bayn the wildest party this side of Etheria was raging on at, what her body believed to be, very very late at night. The beat changed suddenly, becoming more powerful, and it startled Adora out of her musings. The tempo sped up and the bass pounded harder and Adora released a throaty chuckle. Her groin tightened, partly from the vibrations and partly from the effects of the drink coursing through her blood. She took a long swill of her glass and moved to rest her right hand firmly on her lap, rubbing her hardening dick through her pants and sighing in contentment.

The thing Adora lovef most about this aimless explorer diplomatic lifestyle they'd gradually slipped into was the culture they'd shared with scores of different species. The drink in her hand was supplied by the fourteen Chix'eks currently onboard the ship at the moment, who were also supplying the music.

Of all of the species they'd met so far, the Chix'eks are by far Adora's favorite. Tall and willowy bipeds, their shimmery smooth bichromatic scales come in countless color combinations and their facial features remind Adora of a bird of prey. They were also the most sincere, friendly beings Adora has ever met, and their language was beautiful. When Adora had been downstairs with them earlier she had taken her translator earpiece out and just listened to them. It was like glass windchimes in a steady breeze. They also were absolute party animals. Like having a pretty good time was in their specie's nature.

They'd been traveling with this group for the last two weeks for no other reason than they were all going the same direction for a bit.

The Chix'eks were highly intelligent and eager to share their knowledge and learn from Hordak and Entrapta's own wealth of knowledge, Catra and Double Trouble practically fed off of their clever sharp wit and general "we're always at a rave" vibes, and Adora just loves listening to their intricate music and sampling the various mind altering substances they have crafted over several millions of years of inherited knowledge.

Medicine was a specialty craft amongst their species. Their medicine was arguably the furthest advanced in this quadrant of space. The fact that the plants that grew on their home planet could affect every species they had met so far seemed fantastically impossible to Adora. But she had experienced it first hand when she'd contracted some kind of alien plague virus from hell and almost died. It was not a great time. Catra had new nightmares for several weeks. But by chance a group of the scaled beings had happened upon them and saved Adora just cause they could. And then offered to make some introductions to other friendly worlds in that part of space. They'd sparked that explorative vibe.

Oh yeah, and their passion for making addictive free, highly specialized, mind altering substances was a huge bonus.

She was glad they were on board right now providing her strange crew with comrade and the drink in Adora's hand that has allowed her to sit and think in total peace for the last hour. It would probably be one of those nights otherwise. Outside of the moments she spent wrapped up in Catra's arms, where nothing else existed but them, Adora still couldn't ever just relax. It was a little easier these days, maybe because now her mind was usually racing about exciting things, but tense situations brought out her worst self destructive habits.

And they were in a tense situation, party aside.

They were almost at the point in space where they wouldl no longer be able to contact Etheria and Etheria will no longer be able to contact them. Entrapta officially called it Point Zero. As it was, the contact they did have with home had a two week delay. They'd hovered around this point for the last month. They'd even recorded a message telling Etheria they'd be leaving contact range for a while. It was an open-ended goodbye disguised as an update, just in case.

Adora knew the decision to venture out beyond this point was on her shoulders.

Entrapta and Hordak would have loved nothing more than to gain new scientific knowledge so they could continue their shared passion for turning Darla into a flying impenetrable fortress. As well as collecting new tech to bring back to Etheria to modernize the planet.

Double Trouble wad having the time of Their fucking life expanding Their repertoire of mimicry far beyond the limits of Etheria, and raising hell in Their wake for the drama of it all. Their gift for espionage had been especially useful on several occasions as well, either to get them all out of a tight spot, or just to gather information for Adora's research.

And Catra. God Catra had absolutely burst like a supernova away from Etheria. Gone was the self loathing, guilt ridden magicat who was immediately resigned to being torn away from Adora and tossed onto Beast Island because she thought she deserved it.

Catra is thriving in space, completely free of the demons that plagued her on Etheria. She's still as snarky and sharp tongued as ever but nowadays she smiled more often than not. Her eyes were brighter. She purred almost constantly. And they hadn't fought about anything more serious than what to eat for dinner in months.

Catra had slipped into the not exactly legit role of Etherian Ambassador like a second skin. Her skill for strategy and diplomacy were nearly fully responsible for Adora's continued ability to study other species without coming across as some insane space tourist. They'd made real diplomatic ties with other planets because Catra was a strategic genius. All she asked of Adora was to bring out She-ra when the need for "oohs and aware" occasionally arose. A smiling eight foot tall muscled goddess with a sword really topped off a presentation.

Adora had never in her life seen Catra so happy and carefree.

But still all that aside, Catra had made it very clear that where Adora wanted to go, she wanted to go. They were in sync now more than they'd ever been in their lives, more than Adora suspected they could have achieved on Etheria. Their bond seemed impenetrable after seven months of constant reliance on one another, cohabitation, and working through most of their shit. When they moved these days, they moved as one.

Just thinking about her lover made Adora's heart race in her chest and her dick jumped, going from a semi, to rock hard in seconds. She inhaled deeply at the sensation, and downed the last of her drink.

The drink wasn't usually this potent. Adora had been drinking a much lower dosage of it every morning at breakfast for a couple of months. It helped her to concentrate during the day, helped to keep her thoughts from spiraling when things were tense or she felt like she'd messed up. Entrapta had explained brain chemistry to Adora briefly, she got the gist of it. She didn't need to have an in-depth understanding of it to get that it really helped just manage everything.

Tonight's drink though was not about mental health management and all about that really good Chix'ekian time.

She set the empty glass on the small table at her side and shifted so she could pull her hardened cock out of her pants. The drink had a massive effect on her senses and her libido. Everything was so intense. It felt like she perceived time slower.

For example her sense of smell was so heightened now she could smell Catra, knew she was making her way down the hall to the bridge. Her heady earthy aroma was addictive. Adora had only been minutely aware of it growing up, when they were pressed up against each other in their bunk, or claws to sword in battle. She'd never stopped to examine the nature of it, why Catra had such a distinctive scent compared to everyone else. She hadn't understood pheromones. She didn't understand the magicat instinct to mark and claim. She understood now though that Catra was different on a very basic level from Adora. It made Adora love her more.

The door barely made a sound as it opened and closed. Adora stroked herself lazily as she listened to Catra pad softly across the carpeted floor, her eyes still drawn to the wild unexplored space in front of them.

She felt Catra move around her chair and her eyes turned away from the view to watch her girlfriend kneel in front of her lap, rest her head on Adora's thigh, and begin gently running a clawed hand over Adora's exposed stomach, inches away from where Adora was stroking her own dick.

Catra's eyes were wide, pupils blown, and her voice when she spoke was practically sinful. "Hey Adora," she rasped out looking up at Adora as she scent marked her inner thigh. Adora took a deep breath and her lips curled into an absolutely love drunk smile.

"Hey Catra," Adora replied, her free hand immediately going to Catra's cheek and scratching behind her ear.

Her gaze drifted down to Catra's neck, and the thick white collar affixed with a golden o-ring she was wearing. This was a rather recent addition to their relationship and Catra had only ever worn it in their cabin. But she smelt of the woodsy incense the Chix'eks liked to burn and the herbal blend they'd created for Catra to smoke. Which meant Catra was wearing it at the party. Her dick twitched in her hand.

Catra purred at the affection and movedn her hand from the blond's stomach to swat away Adora's hand from her straining dick and began softly stroking it herself. The fine furs on her palms felt amazing to Adora's overly sensitive cock and she groaned with pleasure, head lulling back as she buried her hand in Catra's wild shoulder length hair.

"Those Chix'eks really know their stuff," Catra hummed as she shuffled closer and higher on her knees so she could press a small kiss to the base of the blond's length.

"Feeling good?" Adora asked, chuckling. She tightened her grip on Catra's mane slightly and kept her in place against her dick. She moaned when the corner of Catra's lips pressed momentarily against her balls.

"Feeling great," Catra said before beginning to lick at the hot flesh in front of her face "I'll be bummed when they break off to go home."

"Oh my god same," Adora said laughing and breaking out into a wide smile. Gently she pushed Catra backwards and sat upright in her chair, kicking her shoes off and to the side.

"You know," Catra said as Adora pulled her back towards her lap, "we're about ten minutes till we're out of range."

She might have said it conversationally but Adora knew Carta was nervous about Adora's decision. But Adora was not. Just like she wasn't nervous when she leapt into the darkness in Prime's ship, just like when she chose to spend some well deserved time with the love of her life over "duty", and just like the time she gave Catra control of their situation.

Adora pushed Catra back, leant forwards, and cupped both of Catra's cheeks, fingers immediately curling around her ears. She kissed the magicat on the forehead and deeply inhaled her scent. "Kitten I sent the message and set the course for straight ahead when I came in here an hour ago. I want to see what else is out there." Her blue eyes flitted up hungrily to the stars and then back to Catra before she reclined back into her chair.

Catra didn't look up, but she did release a suspiciously watery chuckle before she shifted forwards and wrapped her perfect lips around the head of Adora's cock suddenly. She took it deep down her throat so fast it seemed effortless. Adora groaned obscenely and buried her hands in Catra's hair, her grip tight and immediately desperate.

Adora's cock wasn't exactly small. Fully erect as she was now it was eight inches long and thick as fuck. And Catra just kept sliding her lips further and further down her length until they were stretched taunt and her breath was coming out in hot, fast puffs against Adora's abdomen.

"Gods, fuck Catra," Adora groaned out as Catra's head began to bob up and down in her lap. The blond watched Catra's throat greedily as the muscles contracted to deep throat her over and over again. They were strained against her collar.

Adora felt a sudden sharp sting at the base of her dick and hissed loudly in pleasure. Occasional knicks on her dick were an unavoidable experience when the woman sucking it regularly had needle sharp fangs. Adora relished in the familiar sting, craved it actually.

Adora's fingers tightened roughly in Catra's hair and when the magicat made to bob up, Adora forced her back down until Catra's claws pressed into her thighs, easily piercing through her sweats and into her skin. The magicat sputtered around the cock firmly blocking her airway.

Catra let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a yowl as she struggled to breath for a second. And when Adora pulled her back up she sucked in a ragged breath before a deep growl rumbled in her chest. Her bi-colored eyes were completely blown and she pulled against Adora's hand, trying to take the blond down her throat again.

"Fuck you're so desperate to choke on my dick, aren't you Kitten?" Adora slurred out. She didn't even wait for a response, just shoved Catra back down as her hips jolted up.

She began fucking Catra's throat in a slow but firm pace. Push Catra down and hold her there for a few long moments and then yank her up. Catra was growling nearly non-stop as she fought to keep her lips firmly wrapped around Adora and the vibrations from it made Adora's toes curl into the carpet.

She could happily cum like this, just release herself into Catra's eager mouth like she'd done plenty of times before, but she was suddenly starving for more. Catra's body was practically writhing on the floor, her hips jerking forwards repeatedly, and her thighs pressed firmly together. The sight of her girlfriend so fucking turned on from sucking her dick made Adora feel godsdamn invincible.

"Up," Adora ordered, not waiting for Catra to respond before she was leaning over and practically ripping the magicat's leggings off. Catra was too far gone for words or to be much help, and Adora practically had to pick her up to get the pants and underwear off her feet. She made quick work of both of their shirts too. "Come on," she growled, pulling her writhing girlfriend into the chair with her.

Adora pulled Catra forwards at the hips, pressing her down until Catra's dripping pussy was pressed against her abs. Immediately Catra started rubbing wantonly against against her, spreading her slick up down Adora's stomach. Her mouth found Adora's neck and she began pressing possessive needy kisses against her.

"Fuck you're so sexy," Adora groaned as she held firmly onto Catra's hips and watched her grind against her. Adora didn't need heightened senses to know even after multiple showers, she was going to smell like Catra for days.

"Mine," Catra growled out territorially as she made new marks to Adora's already colorful neck.

"All yours Kitten," Adora agreed. She loved feeling Catra move against her like this, but her dick was begging for relief.

It was difficult to push the writhing Catra back enough to enter her. Her girlfriend was nearly completely gone, operating on her most base instincts and desires, but Adora managed to grab her hips in a bruising grasp and lower her further down her body.

Her own hips were jerking violently upwards on their own volition and it was a frantic moment as she tried to hold Catra still enough that she could stroke up into her. "Hold still," she ordered, her blunt nails digging into Catra's hips demandingly. Catra let out a frustrated growl but stopped fighting against Adora. Adora grunted as she shifted their bodies, lined up, and slammed her dick hilt deep into her girlfriend.

Catra let out a guttural sound from deep in her chest and her claws raked through Adora's hair, pulling their foreheads together. "S-so good f-fuck Adora," she stuttered through clenched teeth as Adora began slamming up into her roughly.

Their eyes were wild and locked onto one another's. The room was filled with the thumping bass, the lewd wet sounds of their thighs slapping together, Adora's harsh ragged breathing, and a constant rumbling growl from Catra.

Every time she bottomed out in her lover Adora's heart skipped a beat. Catra's pussy was clenching around her cock almost in sync to the music and Adora felt like she would die if she couldn't get further into Catra. She wanted to live inside the woman in her lap.

Catra's head fell to Adora's shoulder and she began rambling out adoration and praise for Adora as she sucked, licked, and bit at Adora's neck repeatedly. "Fuck s-soooo fucking good. You fuck! You're f-fucking me so g-good Adora Fuck." Her body was becoming pliant above Adora, allowing the blonde to drill up at her own pace and pull Catra down on her like a toy.

The praise combined with a bite hard enough to draw blood at the juncture of her neck and shoulders had Adora howling. Adora was like a woman possessed as she heaved both of their bodies up and then down onto the floor. Catra began to scramble up when Adora pulled out of her but frantically got into position when Adora started to forcefully roll her over into her hands and knees.

This was Catra's preferred position to get fucked and Adora wasted no time before slamming back into her girlfriend. She leaned over Catra until her front was flush against the magicats silky back and braced herself on her right arm. Her left hand shot up to Catra's neck and her fingers dug in between her collar and fur.

"Fuck!" Catra howled as Adora began violently rocking against her, pushing her further to the floor each time. Catra's claws were fully extended, digging grooves into the carpet and scraping at the metal beneath it. "I love you," she growled out, giving up any control she had left and just letting Adora pound into her.

"Y-you're my, my fucking whole world," Adora managed to gasp out as she lurched above Catra. "I w-want to be inside you forever."

Catra trilled below her and her pussy began to clench so hard around Adora's cock it felt nearly impossible to pull out. She felt like Catra was sucking her into her. They were almost completely down on the carpet now, with most of Adora's weight fully on Catra.

"Mine," Catra growled desperately, her eyes were clenched shut and her body had begun to violently tremble. Her claws were locked several inches down into the floor beneath them.

"Yours. All yours. Everything I am is for you," Adora gasped out. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt like it was about to explode and her focus had completely narrowed to the feeling of Catra's pussy gripping her cock like a vice.

She could feel a scream building up in Catra's chest below her and Adora latched onto her shoulder with her teeth. She bit down hard and Catra's head snapped back as she screamed Adora's name and tipped over into her orgasm.

Adora's balls and upper thighs were drenched as Catra's pussy spasmed and squirted below her. The feeling of Catra's white hot release was it for Adora. She slammed down once, twice, a third time, and then her body went rigid as her own orgasm ripped through her. The blond's back arched and her head snapped back, eyes open and wide, her vision filled with porta literal stars as she emptied her balls deep into her girlfriend.

Below her Catra writhed and rubbed up into Adora, her pussy was milking Adora's dick for every last drop of cum it could. Adora felt dizzy from her violent release and she pressed them both down against the floor, barely managing to not rest completely atop Catra's petite frame.

They laid there together like that for a long while. Taking greedy breaths and shaking against each other. Adora was still buried deep inside Catra as the woman's pussy contracted around her. Finally when Adora started to come back to herself she eased out of her lover, chuckling lightly at the disgruntled whine Catra let out.

"Ssh baby," Adora cooed. She kept a hand on the small of Catra's back and stroked her fingers through the thick fur as she straightened up on her knees. Her back gave a satisfying crack at the stretch and she sighed looking down at Carta whose fingers were starting to dig into the floor rhythmically. Her hips were raised trying to get as close as possible to Adora's gently scratching hand. "Come on baby," Adora murmured softly as she picked Catra up.

Catra was practically boneless in her arms but Adora managed to get her knees locked around her waist and her arms over her shoulders before she hoisted both of them up off of the floor. She took a moment to get her bearings and wrapped an arm more securely under Catra's ass.

Catra had almost immediately started purring after Adora picked her up and now it was turning into a loud rumble as she nuzzled her face in Adora's neck and started to scent her. "Bed," she grumbled out against Adora's skin as her claws started to kneed the blond's shoulder.

Adora chuckled and gently butted her head against Catra's. "Yes bed time now," she whispered softly as she spared one last glance to the star filled windows in front of her before focusing on the task at hand.

By Adora's estimate she had about five to ten minutes to get Catra to the privacy of their cabin before the magicat would be forcefully holding Adora down regardless of where they were. Catra's after sex hormone driven instincts were always pretty strong and were Adora's absolute favorite moments to witness. She knew they'd be intense tonight with how hard they'd fucked and Catra still riding the high of that Chix-ekian herbal blend she'd smoked.

"Okay," she murmured taking stock of the situation. This was not her first naked Catra on the bridge rodeo. She knew there was no way she was going to be able to put Catra down long enough to get their clothes back on, the possibility didn't even cross her mind. Still, in an attempt at civility she toed their discarded clothing into a pile and mostly kicked it under her chair.

Adora took a few steps to Catra's chair and grabbed the large fluffy blanket folded up in it. "Hold tight baby," she whispered, waiting a second for Catra to tighten around her body before shaking out the blanket and wrapping it around their bodies.

She grimaced a little at the ten rivets cut into the floor at her feet. Double Trouble would have a field day with that. She shrugged because what could she really do about it now? Quickly she checked Darla's readings before heading off of the bridge. Out in the dim hallways of Darla she could just slightly make out the sounds of music and laughter and it made her smile impossibly wider as she tightened her grip around her purring girlfriend.

She had just reached their door when Entrapta swung around the corner laughing. She just managed to stop herself from running into them and snapped back. Hey smile was sweet as she observed them. "Hi Adora," she managed to whisper out despite her obvious excitement.

"Hi Entrapta," Adora giggled lightly, shifting Catra's weight to her other arm.

"I've noticed we have continued on at our current trajectory Adora," Entrapta whispered, her hair expressing her obvious delight with the way it rolled around her body.

"Indeed," Adora whispered and then smiled widely when Entrapta had to cover her mouth with her hair to keep her excited shriek down.

"Goodnight Adora," Entrapta whispered, and then leant towards Catra and whispered even quieter "goodnight Catra."

Gently Entrapta patted the area between Catra's ears with her hair, and Adora had to push down a delighted gasp when Catra's tail came up and curled around the end of the hair. Adora honestly felt like she could cry at the way Catra's tail intimately held onto Entrapta, swirling around her hair for a few seconds before dropping back down to tuck under the blanket. That gesture from Catra held more meaning than any hug could and it was clear from the happy smile on Entrapta's face that she understood that. The princess waved before barreling back the way she'd come from.

A sharp, pointed nip at her shoulder made Adora chuckle and she turned and walked them into their cabin. She shrugged off the blanket wrapped around them and headed into their little bathroom, Catra still in her arms.

In a clearly practiced routine she ran a washcloth under warm water and brought it up between them to wipe at the sticky mess between Catra's legs. Catra was starting to purr like a skiff motor now and rub her face in earnest against Adora's neck and shoulders.

Satisfied that Catra's fur wouldn't mat Adora headed back into their bedroom and turned out the lights. A light glow from the baseboards was all the light Adora needed to walk the few feet to their bed. She turned around and carefully lowered their bodies down, her muscles tensed to keep them from tipping back. They had picked up the unique bed a few planets ago after Catra had fallen in love with the design. It's sides raised up gradually creating a deep pocketed area in the middle. It was a little tricky to get in and out of, but being nested down in the middle with Catra was absolutely worth it.

After some practiced maneuvering Adora laid down and stretched out her legs, a deep sigh releasing from her chest as Catra wrapped her body around Adora's. A big goofy smile split Adora's face in half as Catra started to rumble on top of her. A moment later her kneading started back up and she began to lick gently at Adora's bruised and scraped neck.

Adora was absolutely blissed out with contentment as she buried her fingers into Catra's furr, one hand right above her tail, the other behind an ear, and started scratching. The rumbling and purring kicked up several notches and Catra began to lick at her skin in earnest.

She'd learned a lot in the last seven months, but the most important lesson had been figuring out all the ways Catra had been saying "I love you" since they were toddlers. She hadn't gotten it before the heart, hadn't thought it was possible because Catra had never said the words out loud. But every purr, nuzzle, and kneed Catra had let out just for Adora had said it for her. Adora was so fucking glad that circumstances aside, she'd finally gotten the chance to figure this out.

The room was absolutely silent but Adora could still feel the light soothing pulse of bass. They laid together for a long time as Catra's rough tongue laved over Adora's neck and upper torso. Adora kept up her diligent scratching, shifting whenever necessary to give Catra easy access to her body. The sounds coming out from Catra were honestly favorite sounds in the universe, a constant deep purr that was laid under a rumbling growl.

Catra was apparently satisfied with her grooming job because she started to settle against Adora, her purr has toned down into a lazy idle as she gently rubbed her scent glands against the splotchy skin of Adora's neck

"I love you so much," Catra murmured, shifting up to press gentle kisses against Adora's face. Her eyes blinked slowly.

"I love you too," Adorab breathed out before pulling Catra down to settle her head on Adora's chest. Adora kept gently stroking behind Catra's ears up until the moment sleep claimed her, warm and content, wrapped completely around her lover.

Darla cruised quietly through space for parts unknown.

#she-ra #adora/catra #catradora #catradora smut #Catradora fic #the etherian party bus

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aesthetic-edit-tier · 3 years

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.about + rules.

howdy, y’all! my name is neo, and welcome to my little godtier edit blog! i’ve always really loved classpects, and for awhile, i wanted to do an edit blog, so here we are!

brief info on me: i’m a rouge of doom, moongender + trans male, he/him + masuc titles only, i’m gray aroace + mlm! my main hs blog is @doomed-void

anyways, what do i do? well! i do the following: aesthetics, moodboards, non canon kins, fictives, or just for alters who do have god-tiers! i also do self-care boards, i also do hc’s and ficlets for quadrants of god-tiers, please tell me which god-tiers and which quadrant you want them in!

while i do non-canon god-tier kins, this isn’t a kin blog for the main hs kids. just to clarify.

for your request, please specify what item you want, and what themes you want with it, please and thank you.

i have the right to refuse any request.

DNI: junebuggers/hardjuners, anti lgbtq+, terfs, maps, pro shippers, fujoshi’s, yanderecore blogs, dsmp/mcyt fans. if you violate my dni, you will be blocked on sight.

if you break my rules, i’m giving y’all a 3 strike warning.

i also assigning classpects! for these, i do the following fandoms: sonic the hedgehog, bendy and the ink machine, madoka magica, marble hornets, everymanhybrid, looney tunes, pokemon, archie sonic, undertale, undertale au’s, my little pony: friendship is magic, etc.

if you’re unsure if i know a source of media, dm me! i will not do sources for: dsmp/mcyt, hetalia, and aot. or any other problematic source.

for mod applications, please dm me. give me some examples of your work, and explanation as to why you wanna be a mod on this blog!

i won’t be doing anything 18+. only 16+.

also, yes, i do post non-canon kin calls! only for those of non-canon god tiers, though.

but that’s about it! have fun! about mod phoenix

#homestuck #homestuck edit #homestuck aesthetic #homestuck godtiers #homestuck rouge of doom #rouge of doom #doom aspect #hs edit #hs aesthetic #mod neo

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tails89 · 3 years

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Aliit ori'shya tal'din

Family is more than blood

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Word count: 3700

No pairings

Summary: Din didn’t usually spare much through for annual holidays, Life Day included. There wasn’t much point when one spent most of their time travelling through the vast void of space where days were a monotonous streak of pitch black and starlight.

This year, there is a reason to celebrate.

Read it on AO3

***

It’s the insistent warning from the fuel gauge that forces Din to find somewhere to land. They’ve been traveling for a week, jumping from one quadrant to the next, never coming out of hyperspeed long enough to do much more than input the next set of coordinates and jump again.

Taking out Moff Gideon was supposed to solve their problems but they were yet to reap the rewards. Din can only hope that as word of the Moff’s demise continues to circulate, the hunters who still hold trackers will come to realise there is no longer any payout at the end. Until then, Din and the kid will need to keep moving—until they can be safe.

There’s also the matter of the Jedi.

He’d almost let the Jedi take Grogu after defeating Moff Gideon. The kid needs training. That much is certain, but Din isn’t ready to hand the little womp rat over to someone who may not have the kid’s best interests at heart. The Jedi, Luke, had given Din the coordinates to his school and an invitation to see it for himself. Din plans to take him up on that offer, but not yet.

The alarm whines again, the shrill sound set’s Din’s teeth on edge as he silences it. He misses that about Razor Crest. It had been old, but reliable and he’d known exactly how far he could stretch a full tank of fuel. There are too many things about this new ship that just don’t feel right. The galley is set up in a similar configuration as the old one, but the shelves are just a half step across, and Din has not yet learned to duck.

There’s a noise behind him in the cockpit—the soft patter of tiny feet and a high-pitched coo before a tug on his cloak draws Din’s attention down.

Grogu stares up at him with his large, expressive eyes.

“You want to help me find a place to refuel?”

He lifts the kid up to sit on his lap and drops them out of hyperspace. The kid watches with wide eyes as the long streaks of starlight condense into pinpricks of light.

“Alright.” Flicking up the map, Din presses a button on the console and their location blinks back at them. “This is us.”

The kid reaches for the hologram, one three-fingered hand stretching towards the flashing lights. The other clutches his newest toy—Din hasn’t worked it where it came from, but it’s definitely part of the ship.

Search the nearby planets, Din finds one that meets their requirements.

“Mirador,” he says out loud for the kid’s benefit. “It’s only a few hours away. Quiet, no known Imperial bases. What do you think?”

Grogu coos in agreement, at least, Din decides to take it is agreement. The kid understands more that it seems and is generally pretty good at getting his point across despite the language barrier. He plugs in the coordinates and stands, scooping the child out of his lap. If all goes smoothly and with out fuss, there’s enough time to feed his kid and catch up on a few hours sleep before Din needs to pilot the ship down the to the planet’s surface.

***

“Let’s see what we’ve got in here.”

Din set’s Grogu down on the bench and moves through the narrow space of the galley. They’re completely out of fresh food and Din makes a mental note to restock while they’re down on the planet, before looking at their dry rations. Before finding the child, Din had never been too fussed about eating. It was a necessity for survival, but he’d never taken any particular pleasure from the act. With another mouth to feed—a surprisingly picky mouth considering the things Din had seen swallowed whole—he’d had to expand his options.

Pulling one of the ration bars from the cupboard, Din tears open the packaging and starts breaking it down into smaller chunks, dividing the bar between two cups. Without anything to add to it, the soup will be rather bland, but it has all the nutrients and will be filling.

Carefully adding hot water, Din stirs until the chunks have dissolved, then adds cold water to the smaller cup to bring the temperature down.

“Sorry kiddo,” he says, pushing the cup towards Grogu. “It’s just for one meal. I’ll resupply when we land.”

The kid clutches at the cup, but makes no move to drink, his ears drooping in disappointment at the brown liquid.

“Come on,” Din reasons. “It’s not that bad.” He picks up his soup, lifting his helmet just high enough the raise the cup to his lips. “See?” He says, moving around the end of the bench. “Your turn.”

He passes the end of the shelving, just narrowly remembering to duck his head this time.

The kid giggles and finally drinks.

***

The new ship doesn’t have a sleeping compartment. The Razor Crest hadn’t had one either when Din had first come into possession of it— he’d repurposed a storage cupboard, fitting it out with a mattress and eventually turning it into something almost comfortable.

The new ship has an alcove. It’s not much more than a deep corner where two walls meet, but it’s out of the way, directly under the cockpit and half shielded by the ladder. It can’t be closed off the way the old compartment could, but until Din starts collecting bounties again, it’ll do.

Sitting on the warn mattress, Din starts pulling off his boots. He doesn’t remove all of his armour, just enough to sleep comfortably—the pauldrons, belt, and chest plate— and programs his vambrace to wake him just before they leave hyperspace.

The kid watches him throughout this little ritual, tucked away in his own little nest-bed, his large dark eyes blinking drowsily.

Finally ready to sleep, Din hesitates, his fingers flexing beside his head. After defeating Gideon and rescuing the child, Din had shown Grogu his face. After coming so close the losing the kid, he’d wanted to look at him with his own two eyes, to reassure himself that this was real.

He’d taken to sleeping without his helmet once they’d gone off on their own. Each time he removes it, it gets a little easier, but he’s still learning to reconcile his childhood lessons of the creed and the Re’solnare, and what he’s seen and learned in the last few weeks.

The helmet comes of with a soft hiss and Din sets in on the floor beside his boots. He lies back and closes his eyes, silently counting down in his head. Like clockwork, just as he reaches zero there is a shuffling as Grogu abandons his bed for Din’s.

He shouldn’t encourage it, but the separation had been hard on them both, so instead of sending him back to bed, Din lifts his arm so his kid can burrow in closer.

***

The vibration of his vambrace wakes Din a few hours later.

Careful not to wake the child, he sits up, tugging on his boots and reattaching his armour.

With his helmet tucked under one arm, he climbs the ladder to the cockpit, taking his seat in the pilot’s chair just as the bright streaks of starlight wink out as they leave hyperspace.

Up in the distance, the planet Mirador looms.

The beeping of fuel gauge is insistent now, Din shuts it off with the flick of a switch—he doesn’t need the reminder. The planet is in range and there’s just enough fuel to land—though it will be close.

He disengages the autopilot and locks in on the refueling station he’d scanned earlier. As he approaches the planet, his comms burst to life and he is assigned a bay to land in.

Grogu is awake when Din steps off the ladder. No doubt the loud clanking of the fuel line being attached woke him. He stares up from Din’s bed and voices his disapproval.

“Time to get up, we need to get moving.” Din scoops him up, ignoring the way the child goes limp in an effort to avoid being picked up. Grogu is a fairly easy-going child, despite everything that has happened to him, but he is a child and like some of the younger children back at the covert, prone to the occasional tantrum. Din can only hope this sour mood isn’t building to that.

“You know you can’t stay here,” Din says, carrying Grogu over to the weapons locker to grab his blaster. The kid whines, cranky and still half-asleep. “I know kiddo, but it’s not going to happen.”

He punches in the code to open the locker, ignoring the weapon that hangs beside the blaster—that was another problem Din wasn’t ready to deal with—and holsters the gun before resecuring the locker.

The next challenge is deciding how to carry Grogu.

Mirador’s distance from the nearby sun means that it is covered in snow and ice for the majority of its solar year. The days are short and frigid and Din’s usual method of carrying Grogu in his arms or in a satchel are not going to cut it in this weather.

He fashions a sling by cutting strips from a spare blanket and tying it around his waist. He has to take his cloak off to secure the sling, but once he’s done, he can pull the heavy material of his cloak around them both to stay warm.

When he’s ready, he hits the release for the ramp.

The kid burrows down further into the sling at the first blast of icy air that blows through the hold. Din wraps the cloak tighter around them and steps out into the snow. The heater in his suit helps to keep the frigid air at bay as they make their way towards the market town.

The child settles down after a few minutes, the slow rise and fall of his back against the cloak suggesting he’s asleep.

Good, Din thinks. He can’t imagine anything worse than shopping in the cold with a fussy child and in all honesty, the kid could use the extra sleep. They both could. Between the frequent resetting of their course and the constant vigilance since leaving Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, decent sleep has been few and far between.

The town, when they reach it, is brightly lit against the gloomy weather. The stalls are all outside, but they are each set up with large glowing heaters to keep people, and the wares, from freezing.

Din starts at one of the larger shopfronts, purchasing what he needs to restock the ship. They’re low on most things, the ship having been little more than a shell when it came into his possession, but in a town this small he’ll only be able to find the basic necessities. Fruit and vegetables are almost prohibitively expensive on a planet of Mirador’s type, but the meat seems reasonable.

Once he’s handed over an outrageous number of credits, Din gives instructions for delivery and moves on. He wanders from stall to stall with no real intention of purchasing anything else, just enjoying the opportunity to stretch his legs after a week on a cramped spaceship.

At some point, Din’s going to need to resume work. He’s got enough credits coming in from Dune and Karga to keep him and the kid fed, but he can’t live on their generosity forever. His conscience alone won’t let him. He needs to get back to what he knows, what he’s good at and earn money for the covert… once he finds them.

In the meantime, he’s happy enough to meander through the market. Many of the stalls are decorated and Din wonders if the planet has some local holiday approaching. He’s lost all sense of time in the last few weeks. It’s hard to measure the passage of days when speeding through the endless night of space.

As a Mandalorian he draws many stares as he walks, but the lump under his cloak goes unnoticed in the cold. He feels the child squirm against his chest just as his own stomach starts to rumble. He remembers passing a stall some time back selling hot food, so he doubles back to find it.

In the end, he follows his nose to the vendor roasting some sort of meat.

The Teltior woman looks up warily as he approaches, but Din is used to the stares his armour draws and just gestures for two of the skewers. Inside his cloak, Grogu shifts again, his clawed fingers skittering against the beskar.

“Don’t often see your kind on this planet, Mando,” she says conversationally as she turns the roasting meat on the grill. “Not here to cause trouble I hope.”

At the sound of another voice, Grogu coo’s something in response. Din tightens his hold on the edges of the cloak and shakes his head. “No trouble,” he says, raising his voice to cover the kid’s mumbling.

The Teltior’s eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn’t say anything else as she cooks. The scent of the roasting meat fills the air and kid makes a loud noise.

“Patience,” Din mutters under his breath, pressing one hand against the kid’s back in an effort to soothe him. He glances up, nervous, hoping the keep the child hidden but the noises from within his cloak become more insistent so Din lets the edges drop before his kid does something drastic, like use those Jedi powers of his.

The kid has his hands planted against the Mandalorian’s chest, twisting away to catch a glimpse of what’s going on behind him. With a silent sigh behind his mask, Din loosens the sling so that he can turn Grogu around and then refastens it.

The stallholder’s eyes go wide at the sight of the small green child, her eyes flicking from the kid up to Din’s helmet as she hands over the sticks of roasted meat and accepts the coins.

“Mine were like that,” she says, the suspicion gone from her tone, replaced with fond amusement. Her eyes are trained on the small green hand that’s come up, reaching for his lunch. “Like a nekarr cat the moment food was served. You’d think I never fed them.”

“Yeah, he uh- eats.” Din takes a half step back, ready to end the conversation and get back to the safety of their ship.

“He’s a cutie,” she continues blithely, leaning forward against the counter. “So, will this be your first Life Day with the little one?”

“Life Day?” His head jerks up, suddenly the decorations make sense. “Uh- yes?” He turns his attention down to the kid who is staring at the food, arms outstretched and grasping. He hands over one of the skewers and the kid immediately chomps down, babbling happily to himself.

“Cherish this moment,” she says. “They don’t stay this size forever. Next thing you know they’re grown and leaving home.”

***

After escaping the marketplace, Din wanders around looking for a secluded place the eat. He finds a sheltered spot behind a snowy outcrop and sits on the gnarled and folded trunk of a stunted tree.

While they eat, his thought’s drift back to the conversation with the stallholder.

Din didn’t usually spare much through for annual holidays, Life Day included. There wasn’t much point when one spent most of their time travelling through the vast void of space where days were a monotonous streak of pitch black and starlight.

He remembers celebrating the holiday as a child. The memories of his parents are faint and fleeting, the good times overshadowed by the grief of losing them.

Much more vivid, and welcome, are the memories with his buir and the clan—his aliit. It was a time for everyone to come together for good food and good cheer. The children would be given gifts and the adults would tell stories.

Din wants that for his kid.

He sits up sharply, eliciting a squeak from Grogu.

No, not his kid, he corrects silently, wondering when he started referring to Grogu as his in his head. He can’t afford to let himself think like that. As right as the word might feel, Din’s main priority needs to be returning Grogu to his kind—the Jedi.

He glances down at the kid, gnawing on the on the skewer. He’s a mess, his face and smock stained with meat juices. Wiping the worst of it from Grogu’s face, Din decides there’s not much else that can be done for it. They’ll just have to wait until they get back to the ship and he can find the kid a change of clothes.

But first—there’s something he needs to do.

Grogu doesn’t complain to much about being rugged back up. The wind had picked up while they sat, and the cloak offers an extra layer of protection from the icy blast.

They detour through the market on their way back to the ship so Din can pick up a few more things.

***

The light is fading by the time they return to the ship. It’s been refuelled so Din hands over the credits then takes the kid inside out of the cold. All of his earlier purchases have been delivered too, sitting just inside the hold.

Din’s anxious to get moving again, uncomfortable with spending so much time in one spot, but he needs to change Grogu into something clean and put everything away first.

He starts with the kid, unwrapping him from the sling and setting him down on the bed. He takes in the mess with a soft sigh beneath the helmet and collects a clean robe from their meagre box of possessions. Between the two of them they don’t own a lot of clothing. Still—the new outfit will be clean and keep the kid warm until Din can get the heating going again.

“Okay,” he says, holding up the robe. “I’ll make this quick.”

He manages to strip the kid one handed, keeping him still with the other, but the kid wriggles, making a game of the task.

“You’re going to get cold,” Din warns him, struggling to pull the new robe over the long green ears. “Just sit still.” He manages to pull the outfit over Grogu’s head and slip his arms through the sleeves. “I don’t know why you make that so hard every time,” he sighs, exasperated but fond. “I know you understand me.” He digs out one of the toys from their blankets and hands it over to keep Grogu entertained while he moves everything from the hold to the galley. It also gives him the opportunity to hide the gift he’d bought.

Once he’s done, he takes Grogu up to the cockpit—the sealed room will heat faster than the rest of the ship once the life support is engaged. He buckles in the kid and starts flicking the switches the power the engines.

Night has well and truly fallen across the snowy planet as the propulsion engines kick in. The ship rises steadily into the air and Din pilots them up out of the atmosphere. As soon as they’re clear of the planet, Din makes the jump to hyperspace hoping to put some distance between themselves and their last location, then sets the ship to autopilot.

***

Din wakes to the not unfamiliar sensation of something poking his face. It’s how he’s woken most mornings when he is not wearing his helmet—the kid was better than any alarm clock.

It comes again- the gentle pinching of his cheek- and he grabs the kid before the little womp rat can do it a third time. The kid giggles at the manhandling, wiggling against the hand holding him at bay. It’s a favoured game, but one that tends to be played too early. Din himself is an early riser, but somehow his kid just seems to have a knack for knowing when he’s in the deepest cycle of sleep and chooses that moment to wake him.

Today though, he doesn’t mind.

Rising from the bed, Din searches his hiding spot for the little cloth wrapped bundle.

“This is for you,” he says, returning to sit, legs crossed in front of the bed and setting down the gift. “Happy Life Day kid.”

It isn’t much— a couple of small toys so the kid will stop stealing ship parts and a new tunic. Grogu takes his time picking up each toy and holding them up to show Din, chattering away in excitement.

Din wonders if he understands the significance of this day, if anyone else has celebrated with him in the last fifty years or if, as far as Grogu’s concerned, today is just another day.

For Din, Life Day has always been day for family.

Is that what they are?

Family. A clan of two.

After everything they have gone through together, everything Din has done for the sake of the child. Everything he would do—are they not family?

Din’s entire worldview has shifted in the scant few months since he’d taken on a bounty and found a child. He’d removed his helmet—an act he swore he would never do in the presence of another living thing. He’d broken his creed for Grogu, yet somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Everything he’d done in his desperation to rescue Grogu had been worth it.

Grogu needs the Jedi, he needs to be trained… but as a child surely he needs more than that? Din wants him to have more than that.

“Grogu, hey.” He pulls the kids attention away from the toys he’s gleefully smashing together. “I-” he licks his lips against the sudden dryness in his mouth. It shouldn’t be this hard. He is a Mandalorian, the beroya for the tribe, master of the darksabre, the weapon of the Mandalor.

As though he can sense Din’s internal struggle, Grogu stands, reaching up for Din.

Taking one little green hand in his, Din steady’s his thoughts with a breath, and speaks the words that will make them family.

“Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #din djarin #grogu #baby yoda #fluff #fanfiction #tailswritesmando

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fyrapartnersearch · 3 years

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Get ready to form voltron!

Obligatory warning for a long post ahead: Whilst I know this post may be intimidating to some people. please do not let it put you off from reaching out to me :) “I say vol and you say tron! Vol…..” “Eh.... voltron?” “We’ll work on it.” Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve been able to stay safe and healthy during the pandemic (and that the easing of some restrictions depending on where you are has not negatively affected you). After binge watching legendary defender on netflix I’ve had the undying and uncontrollable urge to do a voltron rp. Now I bet you’re all wondering what I want and if you’re going to get to do some shipping.......we’ll I guess you’re just going to have to read on and find out. I’m looking for literate rper’s only. That means people who write in third person past tense, can give me at the very least one well thought out and fleshed paragraph (as well as be willing to write more when the situation calls for it) and has a decent grasp on their spelling, grammar and punctuation. I will not yell at you for the occasional bout of typonese but one liners, one worders, poorly written responses and lazy writing in general will not keep me around. If I can’t read what you’ve written and you’re not willing to put some effort in or correct it then there’s no point in me sticking around. I also require rper’s who’ve actually watched voltron whether it be legendary defender, defender of the universe or voltron force. If you’re someone whose a stickler for canon accuracy then I’m probably not the rper for you. When I rp in a fandom setting I treat it a bit like a base as in there’s rules to follow but I don’t have to follow them as if I’m reading the show script. To put it simply I value creativity and ideas that allow a different take on the characters and what could’ve happened. I only rp male alien or alien hybrid characters and they’re premade but flexible in how they’re written. I do not have pictures nor do I desire to spend endless hours of time to find a face claim of a creature that isn’t the typical different coloured humanoids you see in voltron. I have descriptions and that’s it. I do not care if your character is made up on the spot or if you prefer to rp as a canon character. Shippers......I’m sorry but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. I do not rp them as mains so if you were looking for some sheith or klance I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said you are free to play as any canon character you desire or an oc as I’m open to oc x oc pairings or oc x canon pairings (you being the canon character) and I do either MxM or FxM pairings. Romance and non fade to black smut will both occur in the rp but it must be slow burn. I do not do fast paced love at first sight as it’s just not something that holds my interest. No sub dom dynamics, switch dynamics only and please no characters whose entire personality is just one emotion or one trait they have. Guys.....please don’t call my aliens furries or whatever. I don’t rp generic spray painted humans and we’re rping in a world full of wacky and crazy aliens that have fur,scales,tails,multiple arms, etc so I find it Incredibly annoying to have a label forced on my character like it’s a bad thing. Alien means something not from earth, if a human was to be born on altea or daibazzal, it’d be considered an alien despite probably being a hundred percent human. If your view and comfort zone is restricted to aliens that look like an altean and nothing else then you needn’t not message me. I’m not going to make you rp with me if this is a dealbreaker so if you don’t heed this warning then you do not be rude after pulling a shocked pikachu. Be mature about it if you realise it’s a deal breaker rather than just blocking or suddenly deciding you no longer want to talk to me and that you’ll just ignore me till I unfriend you. DO NOT COME TO ME SAYING OR ASKING YOU WANNA DO A SHEITH RP/ DO YOU RP AS THESE CANON CHARACTERS! I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer that I do not do canon character mains nor do I do rp’s solely for the purpose of shipping said rp characters. As I’ve said before, if you wanna play a canon character go ahead but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. My oc’s are my mains. You and your characters must be 18+. I’m in my twenties and will not rp with a minor, especially since I have mature and adult themes in my rp’s that I do not want to get into trouble for Rping them with someone whose underaged. Underaged characters are just........a big no for the sole fact that my characters are adults and that i do not feel uncomfortable playing against underaged characters. You must be able to give me one or more responses a day. If it’s been two weeks since the last response and you’ve mysteriously disappeared then I’m not going to stick around for the day you decide to answer me. I do not like having my time wasted for any reason. My time zone is the eastern Australian time zone but I’m available and awake at odd hours so time zones aren’t too big of an issue for me. Remember that I’m looking for a long term partner, someone to carry an rp with for more than just a few days or a week and someone to write multiple stories with. I have tonnes of ideas and head cannons for the rp but I’m open to brainstorming and ideas. We can mix and match ideas till we get something we both like. I want this to be a shared job, don’t expect me to be the one to carry everything just cause I’m the one supplying the idea. Down below I’ve decided to list a couple of ideas that I have: New school defenders: the paladins of voltron have been defending the universe for years. Many stories of their countless victories, battles and struggles are something that every parent who was alive during the war told their children. Once the main three were taken out (haggar, lotor and zarkon) the paladins settled down to teaching the garrisons new generation of cadets. The new change in curriculum was welcome for many as well as a new change in ship style. To make sure that peace could be maintained in every quadrant of every galaxy the paladins of voltron has trained the cadets to fly animal styled space ships like the lions. The animal ship a pilot was assigned depended on their personality, strengths, weaknesses, how well they worked in a team and their style of fighting and piloting skills. The importance of team bonding was something the paladins basically preached. When news of the return of an old foe forces the paladins to return to their jobs as voltrons warriors and they suddenly disappear many write them off as dead or perhaps in distress. None of the superiors are interested to find out..... so who will? Lotor’s reign: It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true. Voltron taken down by lotor, son of the mighty emperor zarkon himself, and the paladins were now working for him without question as his top generals?! When the news had first hit many people had panicked whilst countless others had been slain for daring to believe and protest that it was all just some lie made up by the half galran prince who was now an emperor like his father before him. Princess Allura herself was locked away in an unknown location after refusing the cruel man’s hand in marriage so she is no help for what is now a lost hope. Lotor’s reign had well and truly begun all those years ago and it was holding steady. People had forgotten long ago that even in complete and utter darkness….one can always find a speck of light that burns bright no anger how small. Mirror mirror: For many years people believed the galra were a race of cruel, vicious, animalistic thinking beings whose only goal was to destroy and conquer words. No one would’ve ever believed that it was the peacekeeping alteans that had been working to plot the galaxy’s downfall. Voltron, belonged to the galrans, they’d been the ones who’d built it after all despite letting alfor pilot voltron’s right arm. When the king had been turned down on his idea to share the mighty robotic war machine he simply built his own. Five dragons that formed dracotron were what the alteans used as their voltron and weapon to conquer the galaxies. Emperor zarkon, under the advice of Haggar the witch, was one of the few world leaders who managed to get his people to safety. Ever since watching the great kingdoms that he’d known for almost ten thousand years fall under the alteans greed and obsession for power over peace, he prayed for miracle in whatever form he could get it in. When two young stragglers end up stranded on the galra’s second home world, the cards of fate are laid according to haggar, much to everyone else’s confusion. What could two lost souls possibly do to bring back what was lost to the alteans? Gamora’s guns: The guns of Gamora was a rebel group with the goal of foiling any plans of the altean empress allura. Led by the brave commander Sven and his somewhat neurotic sidekick Slav, the gun’s were spread far across the galaxy in little pockets of altean dominated space to keep tabs on the empires schemes and try their best to counteract them. The new recruits were aliens and humans from far and wide working together hand in hand to try and prevent a reign of terror from truly taking over. When plans for creating a super weapon fall on the ears of a trusted source, the newest batch of recruits are sent to locate, find and bring back the blueprints. Of course, such things are easier said than done. The chosen: Keith.lance.hunk.shiro (or Sven, depends on whether you want this to follow a legendary defender type story arc or one of the older series). Allura. Pidge. These were names that belonged to the universe's greatest heroes. Legends beyond all compare. They were champions of the universe and paladins of the mightiest robotic warrior to have ever been built: voltron. The great robot and the lions that formed it were well over ten thousand years old…..sadly for the paladins, they knew that they wouldn’t live to or beyond the great age their lions and oldest enemies had. The galaxy garrison had worked extra hard on ensuring that the next generation of pilots would be suitable candidates for the possibility of becoming voltron’s future paladins. Each paladin chose a student whom they felt like would be the most suitable to take their place and trained them with the knowledge that they were not the ones who had the final decision as to who flew who…..or even if they’d fly at all. What happens when one student fails and is rejected by not one but all the lions? What becomes of them and what is their place on team voltron? What happens to the rest of the team? Only time will tell, according to coran, such a thing has never happened before…...but what happens if it does? From all walks of life to the universe's greatest heroes: Shouldn’t have to explain this one too much. Forget the show paladins, bring your oc’s or next gens onto the table and let them take the stage! Before we reach the end of the post, here are some important reminders: 1: NO REACHING OUT TO ME ASKING FOR A CANON CHARACTER SHIPPING RP! I DO NOT DOUBLE SO DO NOT ASK! 2: DONT MESSAGE ME IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NOT VERY HUMANOID ALIENS! 3: NO GARY STU’S OR MARY SUES! GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS A PERSONALITY THAT ISN’T JUST ONE EMOTION OR TRAIT ONLY! For those who’ve read this thoroughly thank you and congratulations! If you’re at all interested please send me a request via one of the contacts below that says who you wanna be, which lion or paladin you think you’d most likely to be if you were in voltron, which idea you liked (or one of your own) and the numbers 123 to confirm you’ve read everything. My discord: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My telegram: Tiberionwars My hangouts: [email protected] Hope to write some awesome stories! Will accept requests as long as this ad is up.

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #literate #action #au #fandom #original #post apocalyptic #scifi #submission

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potteresque-ire · 4 years

Text

Writing Tag!

Tagged by @bounding-heart ❤️❤️❤️. Sorry for taking forever to reply! I also just realised there’s a “Statistics” page on AO3 to answer the questions. Yes, I’m hopeless 😅.

AO3 name: potteresque_ire

Fandoms: Harry Potter (Drarry), have also dipped my toes in Yuri!On Ice (Victuuri), Good Omens (Ineffable Hubbies).

Tropes: Hmm. I don’t think of fics by tropes -- I don’t search for fics by tropes or start writing with a trope in mind, but I do enjoy many of them and they do pop up in my stories every now and then. Enemies-to-lovers is always good. Yes to pining, hurt/comfort...

Number of fics: Leaving out drabbles and ficlets ... around 25 (I know it’s a small number * bows head in shame *)

Fic I spent the most time on: The fic that felt like I spent the longest on was Twelve Days of Christmas. Its premise, with Draco as someone who might or might not have lost his mind and Harry, who might or might not have got there before Draco, was kinda beyond my skills to execute at the time but I tried anyway 😊. It’s also the only fic I’ve written that I found truly depressing, because it’s got the worst fate I’ve given Harry by far (and I’ve assigned MCD to him several times)(sorry).

Fic I spent the least time on: For time-spent-per-word, The Kitchen Thieves (and the Kitchen Herself).

Longest Fic: Also The Kitchen Thieves (and the Kitchen Herself) (67k).

Shortest Fic: Among those I’ve given fic-level attention -- written with recipient in mind, edited and beta’ed — probably Owlcards and Letters from Beyond the Storm (~3.6k). Its time-per-word ratio was high though, because it was in a mixed media format and much time was spent on the images and fitting the text to them.

Most hits: Evolution, which has never ceased to surprise me. I assumed, at the time of posting, that this fic would be too event-less (opposite of eventful) to attract readership.

Most kudos: Evolution

Most comment threads: Owlcards and Letters from Beyond the Storm (published on LiveJournal; the fic is celebrating its 10th birthday this year.)

Most bookmarks: Evolution

Total word count: 362,612 according to AO3. It counts all the shorts and metas as well.

Favourite fic I wrote: Oh, this is difficult! My feelings towards my work tend to stem from the memories I have of the writing period, from who I was at the time, rather than from how the story turned out or how well it’s been received. Owlcards, for example, is highly significant for personal reasons but given the special circumstances of its birth, I doubt I can create something similar again even if I dearly wish I could.

From a more fannish perspective, I think my answer would be The Kitchen Thieves (and the Kitchen Herself), because I felt it best captured the Harry/Draco dynamics I was aiming for.

Why it was so, I think, is the same reason why this fic hasn’t been attractive to potential readers: its narration came from neither character of the main ship (it’s only after this fic that I learned it’s quite an unpopular thing to do). I’m not good at thinking like a person in love (deep-end aro-ace reporting here 😊) and while I’m getting better at “faking it”, I suspect there’s still a whole plethora of emotions I’m missing. But I’ve trained myself to read the signs of romance for years, taught myself how to approach people, real or fictional, caught in that whirlwind of emotions that leave me confused more often than I’d like to admit. Tumblr fandom is so much about pointing at a pair of characters and saying “they’re in love” (or, ”that’s gay”)... and I don’t really possess that drive, or insight, inherently. (For those who know Good Omens the series, I totally missed Aziraphale’s look after Crowley handed him back the books. That’s how bad I can be at picking up the signs of romance.) I’m therefore used to being a … somewhat removed observer of ships, sympathetic (hopefully) but not necessarily empathetic, and it’s easier for me to write about them that way. TL;DR: Kate the kitchen spirit in The Kitchen Thieves has a bit of me sometimes, staring at Harry’s and Draco’s crazy way of loving and going Whoa???

(Apologies for the TMI! I’ve got a super lovely string reviews on AO3 this week (thank you so much ❤️, V, I treasure all of them) and it got me thinking, it got me to notice that aside from the “you make me cry” comments, I also get a lot of reviews that mention the complexity, the ... heavy-handedness of my writing. I wonder if some of it is compensation. Because I don’t feel the romance of the story as much as many readers probably do, I layer on more emotions because I fear they don’t feel present, that they read inadequate. True? Not true? Something for me to think about. Regardless, I’ll probably keep layering because the emotions are there for myself, as well.)

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: The only fic I’ve ever had a sequel for in my mind is Memoria in Aeterna (yes, @bounding-heart, the bee fic!). The third Wizarding War would’ve broken out, and Draco, who’d long sequestered himself in the Water Quadrant, would’ve found the courage to re-enter society and join Harry for the fight. No happy endings for anyone. I don’t think I’ll write it up though; the climate of fandom has changed so much.

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: Here’s a bit from the (very) long Good Omens fic I’m currently struggling with:

===

Dead too, by the end of that snow shower, was any prospect of a future together between an angel and a human. Please forgive me for prying, Robbie would say to Aziraphale one day, while standing in front of the photo in the gentlemen club in Pall Mall. But I can’t be in love with someone I don’t even know the name of. Aziraphale would hold on to the books he’d been gifted, a collection of the Writer’s first edition works, nod and say lightly, I forgive you, before swallowing the words he’d practised saying over and over again in the bookshop.

My name is Aziraphale.

I’m an angel.

He wept that night, and several nights after, but unlike the many times he’d watched Romeo and Juliet, nobody was watching over him in the shadows.

Aziraphale was alone.

Meanwhile, a few districts down from Mayfair, the demon who’d known this all along, that mortals and immortals could never be mates without deceit and heartbreak, was stirring on a beam. The floor of the living room had disappeared under the letters her colleagues had slipped under the door over the years—commendations addressed to A. J. Crowley, DR letters complaining about the humanity of her new name. They’d piled high, and in twenty-four more years, one of them would reach high enough to tickle the demon’s nose.

She’d wake with a sneeze.

===

Tagging everyone who wants to do it!! :)

#pie memes

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roleplayfinder · 4 years

Text

Let’s voltron!

“I say vol and you say tron! Vol…..”

“Eh…. voltron?”

“We’ll work on it.”

Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve been able to stay safe and healthy during the pandemic (and that the easing of some restrictions depending on where you are has not negatively affected you). After binge watching legendary defender on netflix I’ve had the undying and uncontrollable urge to do a voltron rp. Now I bet you’re all wondering what I want and if you’re going to get to do some shipping…….we’ll I guess you’re just going to have to read on and find out.

I’m looking for literate rper’s only. That means people who write in third person past tense, can give me at the very least one well thought out and fleshed paragraph (as well as be willing to write more when the situation calls for it) and has a decent grasp on their spelling, grammar and punctuation. I will not yell at you for the occasional bout of typonese but one liners, one worders, poorly written responses and lazy writing in general will not keep me around. If I can’t read what you’ve written and you’re not willing to put some effort in or correct it then there’s no point in me sticking around. I also require rper’s who’ve actually watched voltron whether it be legendary defender, defender of the universe or voltron force. If you’re someone whose a stickler for canon accuracy then I’m probably not the rper for you. When I rp in a fandom setting I treat it a bit like a base as in there’s rules to follow but I don’t have to follow them as if I’m reading the show script. To put it simply I value creativity and ideas that allow a different take on the characters and what could’ve happened.

I only rp male alien or alien hybrid characters and they’re premade but flexible in how they’re written. I do not have pictures nor do I desire to spend endless hours of time to find a face claim of a creature that isn’t the typical different coloured humanoids you see in voltron. I have descriptions and that’s it. I do not care if your character is made up on the spot or if you prefer to rp as a canon character. Shippers……I’m sorry but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side, I do not rp them as mains so if you were looking for some sheith or klance I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said you are free to play as any canon character you desire or an oc as I’m open to oc x oc pairings or oc x canon pairings (you being the canon character) and I do either MxM or FxM pairings. Romance and non fade to black smut will both occur in the rp but it must be slow burn. I do not do fast paced love at first sight as it’s just not something that holds my interest. No sub dom dynamics, switch dynamics only and please no characters whose entire personality is just one emotion or one trait they have.

Guys…..please don’t call my aliens furries or whatever. I don’t rp generic spray painted humans and we’re rping in a world full of wacky and crazy aliens that have fur,scales,tails,multiple arms, etc so I find it Incredibly annoying to have a label forced on my character like it’s a bad thing. Alien means something not from earth, if a human was to be born on altea or daibazzal, it’d be considered an alien despite probably being a hundred percent human. If your view and comfort zone is restricted to aliens that look like an altean and nothing else then you needn’t not message me. I’m not going to make you rp with me if this is a dealbreaker so if you don’t heed this warning then you do not be rude after pulling a shocked pikachu. Be mature about it if you realise it’s a deal breaker rather than just blocking or suddenly deciding you no longer want to talk to me and that you’ll just ignore me till I unfriend you.

DO NOT COME TO ME SAYING OR ASKING YOU WANNA DO A SHEITH RP/ DO YOU RP AS THESE CANON CHARACTERS! I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer that I do not do canon character mains nor do I do rp’s solely for the purpose of shipping said rp characters. As I’ve said before, if you wanna play a canon character go ahead but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. My oc’s are my mains.

You and your characters must be 18+. I’m in my twenties and will not rp with a minor, especially since I have mature and adult themes in my rp’s that I do not want to get into trouble for Rping them with someone whose underaged. Underaged characters are just……..a big no for the sole fact that my characters are adults and that i do not feel uncomfortable playing against underaged characters.

You must be able to give me one or more responses a day. If it’s been two weeks since the last response and you’ve mysteriously disappeared then I’m not going to stick around for the day you decide to answer me. I do not like having my time wasted for any reason. My time zone is the eastern Australian time zone but I’m available and awake at odd hours so time zones aren’t too big of an issue for me. Remember that I’m looking for a long term partner, someone to carry an rp with for more than just a few days or a week and someone to write multiple stories with.

I have tonnes of ideas and head cannons for the rp but I’m open to brainstorming and ideas. We can mix and match ideas till we get something we both like. I want this to be a shared job, don’t expect me to be the one to carry everything just cause I’m the one supplying the idea. Down below I’ve decided to list a couple of ideas that I have:

New school defenders:

the paladins of voltron have been defending the universe for years. Many stories of their countless victories, battles and struggles are something that every parent who was alive during the war told their children. Once the main three were taken out (haggar, lotor and zarkon) the paladins settled down to teaching the garrisons new generation of cadets. The new change in curriculum was welcome for many as well as a new change in ship style. To make sure that peace could be maintained in every quadrant of every galaxy the paladins of voltron has trained the cadets to fly animal styled space ships like the lions. The animal ship a pilot was assigned depended on their personality, strengths, weaknesses, how well they worked in a team and their style of fighting and piloting skills. The importance of team bonding was something the paladins basically preached. When news of the return of an old foe forces the paladins to return to their jobs as voltrons warriors and they suddenly disappear many write them off as dead or perhaps in distress. None of the superiors are interested to find out….. so who will?

Lotor’s reign:

It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true. Voltron taken down by lotor, son of the mighty emperor zarkon himself, and the paladins were now working for him without question as his top generals?! When the news had first hit many people had panicked whilst countless others had been slain for daring to believe and protest that it was all just some lie made up by the half galran prince who was now an emperor like his father before him. Princess Allura herself was locked away in an unknown location after refusing the cruel man’s hand in marriage so she is no help for what is now a lost hope. Lotor’s reign had well and truly begun all those years ago and it was holding steady. People had forgotten long ago that even in complete and utter darkness….one can always find a speck of light that burns bright no anger how small.

Mirror mirror:

For many years people believed the galra were a race of cruel, vicious, animalistic thinking beings whose only goal was to destroy and conquer words. No one would’ve ever believed that it was the peacekeeping alteans that had been working to plot the galaxy’s downfall. Voltron, belonged to the galrans, they’d been the ones who’d built it after all despite letting alfor pilot voltron’s right arm. When the king had been turned down on his idea to share the mighty robotic war machine he simply built his own. Five dragons that formed dracotron were what the alteans used as their voltron and weapon to conquer the galaxies. Emperor zarkon, under the advice of Haggar the witch, was one of the few world leaders who managed to get his people to safety. Ever since watching the great kingdoms that he’d known for almost ten thousand years fall under the alteans greed and obsession for power over peace, he prayed for miracle in whatever form he could get it in. When two young stragglers end up stranded on the galra’s second home world, the cards of fate are laid according to haggar, much to everyone else’s confusion. What could two lost souls possibly do to bring back what was lost to the alteans?

Gamora’s guns:

The guns of Gamora was a rebel group with the goal of foiling any plans of the altean empress allura. Led by the brave commander Sven and his somewhat neurotic sidekick Slav, the gun’s were spread far across the galaxy in little pockets of altean dominated space to keep tabs on the empires schemes and try their best to counteract them. The new recruits were aliens and humans from far and wide working together hand in hand to try and prevent a reign of terror from truly taking over. When plans for creating a super weapon fall on the ears of a trusted source, the newest batch of recruits are sent to locate, find and bring back the blueprints. Of course, such things are easier said than done.

The chosen:

Keith.lance.hunk.shiro (or Sven, depends on whether you want this to follow a legendary defender type story arc or one of the older series). Allura. Pidge. These were names that belonged to the universe’s greatest heroes. Legends beyond all compare. They were champions of the universe and paladins of the mightiest robotic warrior to have ever been built: voltron. The great robot and the lions that formed it were well over ten thousand years old…..sadly for the paladins, they knew that they wouldn’t live to or beyond the great age their lions and oldest enemies had. The galaxy garrison had worked extra hard on ensuring that the next generation of pilots would be suitable candidates for the possibility of becoming voltron’s future paladins. Each paladin chose a student whom they felt like would be the most suitable to take their place and trained them with the knowledge that they were not the ones who had the final decision as to who flew who…..or even if they’d fly at all. What happens when one student fails and is rejected by not one but all the lions? What becomes of them and what is their place on team voltron? What happens to the rest of the team? Only time will tell, according to coran, such a thing has never happened before……but what happens if it does?

From all walks of life to the universe’s greatest heroes:

Shouldn’t have to explain this one too much. Forget the show paladins, bring your oc’s or next gens onto the table and let them take the stage!

Before we reach the end of the post, here are some important reminders:

1: NO REACHING OUT TO ME ASKING FOR A CANON CHARACTER SHIPPING RP! I DO NOT DOUBLE SO DO NOT ASK!

2: DONT MESSAGE ME IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NOT VERY HUMANOID ALIENS!

3: NO GARY STU’S OR MARY SUES! GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS A PERSONALITY THAT ISN’T JUST ONE EMOTION OR TRAIT ONLY!

For those who’ve read this thoroughly thank you and congratulations! If you’re at all interested please send me a request via one of my contacts that says who you wanna be, which lion or paladin you think you’d most likely to be if you were in voltron, which idea you liked (or one of your own) and the numbers 123.

My discord: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My hangouts and email: lleo [email protected] My telegram: Tiberionwars

Hope to write some awesome stories!

Will accept requests as long as this ad is up.

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