#he was too dumb to figure out the sun lance thing so he never even got yelled at about that hahah

[cambion-companion]

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

~

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #gale bg3 #shadowheart #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x tav #karlach #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Lifeguard on Duty

Summary: Warren was supposed to be looking for a summer job but when he sees you on the beach he decides to become a lifeguard. And hopefully confess his feelings for you

Word count: 2,376

Warren and Spencer were sitting at the lifeguard station spending lunch together. Warren had his legs kicked up in the small desk and Spencer leaned against the back wall, taking a deep breath of the shared joint. He was messing with the life preservers that lined the wall, he exhaled the smoke before passing it to Warren, moving to lean on the desk, staring out at the crowded beach. “Warren, why did you even take this job?”

“Cause I like the ocean.” Warren hummed, inhaling deeply and letting his eyes flutter shut. He wasn’t really supposed to be smoking up here but he was the only lifeguard on duty today. So goody two shoes Lance Norris, the posterboy for lifeguards couldnt rat him out. He flicked the rolled up stub out the window, watching as it sizzled out in the sand below. He stood up, exiting the booth and Spencer followed him. “Plus the view isn't bad.” Warren looked out on the women sunbathing in skimpy bikinis and the men swimming in insanely tight speedos

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Pervert.” Warren winked at him, turning back to face the beach crowd.

Warren wouldn't admit it but there was another reason he had taken the job. You. His dad had been hounding him to take a summer job so he had been out on the boardwalk picking up applications. He was planning on lying and saying he had gotten a job and then blowing all summer with Spencer but then he had seen you. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, he watched as you took the ramp down to the beach and made a beeline for the lifeguard station.

You greeted them with a wide smile and passed up a basket filled with lunch for the two lifeguards on duty. He felt himself smile as he took you in, watching as you made polite conversation with your friend before sitting down on the beach, a book in hand. Warren came to the boardwalk for a week after that to see if you’d return. And sure enough you came everyday to sit in the same spot and read. Watching the waves roll in before leaving a couple hours later. And every friday you brought lunch up to the lifeguard station, there were other days when you bought snacks for them. He figured out that you brought lunch on Fridays because your friend Mary had a shift that day, so you would bring something for her and her coworker.

So Warren applied and got in after passing the entrance exam and acing the physical. It wasn't too hard considering he used to do sports and much to the disapy of Lance, the head lifeguard, he made the force. He even had the dumb luck of working on the friday shift with your friend Mary. He was really nervous to talk to you and spend his first few shifts hiding away when you came to see your friend. But after a while Mary had had enough of his endless questions about you and introduced you both. He had nearly died when you said his hair looked pretty in the afternoon sun.

After that he tried to talk to you when he could. Making small conversation here and there and asking a million questions, but you didn’t mind. Answering every one and asking some of your own. After a few weeks he developed a friendship with you, though he wanted more. He had wanted more since the moment he had seen you if he was being honest.

He loved your beautiful (y/s/c) skin that soaked up the sun and the way your (y/h/c) shinned and blew in the wind. He loved listening to you talk about your latest book and even tried reading some of them so he could talk to you about them. Though he preferred to hear you talk about them instead.

But he was too much of a coward to voice his feelings so instead he hoped you would catch on, maybe take note of his flirting and longing looks for more. But it seemed you thought of him as just a friend. So he let the summer slip away, there were only a couple weeks left and still he was too nervous to confess. Wondering what would happen when summer ended.

Unknown to him you had developed quite a crush on the curly haired lifeguard. Even bringing him lunch when Mary wasn't there and slipping in little treats here and there. You walked down the beach, your wicker basket in hand, Warren saw you coming and leaned over the rail to the point where you thought he was going to fall over. His loose Hawaiian shirt fluttering around him, open exposing his suntanned chest to you. He whistled at you, making you laugh. “Hey, pretty thing.” He called out, as you got closer you could see him smirking at you from his perch.

“Hey you.”

He lowered his sunglasses giving you a coy wink. “What’s for lunch today?” He asked, reaching down to take the basket from your outstretched hands.

“Turkey club with a side of chips and a slice of cake for dessert.”

He licked his lips, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “You’re too good to me honey.”

You giggled, flushing at his pet name. “I know.” You both smiled at one another, so invested in your own little world you didn't even notice someone else was there until Spencer cleared his throat. You turned to look at him, breaking away from Warren who let out a groan at the loss of attention. “I’m sorry, I didn't see you there. I’m (y/n).”

“I’m Spencer.” He gave you a small wave and you returned it.

“It’s nice to meet you Spencer.” You both exchanged polite smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to be visiting Warren for lunch. If I had I would have brought lunch for you too.”

Spencer opened his mouth to reply but Warren cut him off. “Don’t worry about him babe he was just leaving.”

“I wasn’t-”

Warren shot him a pointed look with a tight smile. “Just leaving.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I get it.” Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed past Warren to go down the steps to the beach.

“I’ll see you later man.” Warren called out to Spencer's retreating form.

“Whatever.” He replied.

“He seems nice.” You said, shielding the sun from your face with your hand as you watched Spencer walk away. “Kinda cute too.”

Warren scoffed “Not cuter than me I hope.”

You smiled, crinkling your face up at him. “Maybe.”

Warren held his hand up to his chest faking hurt, as if your words had physically wounded him. “You’ve wounded me babe.”

You just laughed. “Well anyway I better let you eat lunch, I’ll see you around Warren.” You moved to leave.

“Wait!” Warren’s voice made you turn back around. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice back to its normal level. “Would you maybe wanna eat lunch with me?”

“But I only packed lunch for you.”

“I’m not that hungry ,anyway, I had a big breakfast. Maybe we could split it.” He gave you a nervous smile.

You pursed your lips, pretending to think over his offer. Warren was watching your every movement, waiting for your answer. “Alright.”

Warren’s face split open in a wide smile, he helped you up the steps and made a big show of pulling out his only chair for you. As you turned away from him he quickly shoved his trash out of view, kicking discarded candy wrappers into the corner and covering them with a bucket. “Wow, you really do have the best seat in the house.” You mused, taking in the waves and the way the sun bounced off the water.

Warren leaned against the counter, his back to the ocean, his eyes trained on you alone. “I really do.”

Talking with Warren was alway made time fly. He was so passionate about his interests that you could listen to him talk for hours on end. And he could say the same, he loved watching the way you talked with your hands and the way you talked faster when you were excited about something. Lunch had been finished long ago and the sun was already starting to set on the horizon.

“I’ve noticed you’ve never gone swimming.” Warren blurted suddenly. His eyes widened when he realized his statement could come off as rude and he quickly tried to take it back.

“No it’s okay.” You laughed. “I just never learned how.” Warren started at you with his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“You never learned how to swim.” He asked, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“I know I know.” You looked out at the ocean. “I always wanted to though.”

“Why don’t you let me teach you?” Warren proposed. “I’m a pretty good swimmer if I do say so myself.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean that’s what my lifeguard certification says.” He pointed at the hanging frame. A picture of warren hanging next to a sign that said certified lifeguard, and underneath in black sharpie, and an excellent swimmer.

You giggled. “Very impressive.”

“Seriously let’s go for a swim.”

“Aren’t you on duty Mr. Certified lifeguard?”

“Yeah but there no one here.” You looked out at the beach and Warren was right. The beach was basically empty, everybody leaving for home as soon as the sun had begun to set. “Come on, you know you want to.” Warren poked at your side playfully. “Come on, come on…” Warren poked you with every come on until you swatted his hand away with a laugh

“Alright fine!”

“Yes!” Warren took your hand and dragged you down the steps, tossing his Hawaiian shift over his shoulder to hand on the wooden handle of the lifeguard station. You both got to the edge of the water, the waves tickling your feet.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“You don’t need one.” Warren wiggled his eyebrows suggestively making you rolled your eyes and hit his chest. You blushed as you undressed, nervous at how he would perceive you. But when you turned to face him his eyes were wide with wonder taking all of you in. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, more to himself than to you.

You blushed, pulling him into the water. “Let’s swim already.” He laughed taking hold of your hand. He squeezed it as he felt you tense, the water now up to your waist. He tried to lead you further but you stopped, feet digging into the sand. He moved closer to you, putting your arms around his shoulders. “I got you.” You let him pull you further out, your feet leaving the ground as you both ventured deeper.

Warren tread through the water, his arms moving you both as you clinged onto him for dear life. Your eyes were squeezed shut, afraid that if you opened them you’d panic and struggle against his hold. Your legs were tangled with his, trying to imitate his movements. After a while you opened your eyes, Warren starring at you with a soft smile. You returned it, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, completely at peace in his arms,

“(Y/n)?” Warren asked, wetting his chapped lips. You hummed against his shoulder in response, encouraging him to continue. His heart was thumping in his chest but he knew if he didn’t say anything now he’d let the rest of the summer slip away. He took a deep breath,“I like you.” He blurted it out all at once, almost too jumbled for you to make out. But you heard it, head snapping up to meet his gaze. He watched your face for a reaction, but you just tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him close. Warren’s eyes widened as his lips collided with yours, melting into your touch. Your lips still tasted like the chocolate cake from lunch, and it made the kiss that much sweeter.

When you pulled away you rested your forehead against his, breathing in his summery scent. “Does that mean you like me too?” Warren asked in an unsure voice.

“Of course I do you idiot.” You leaned your lead back to look at him clearly. “I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Ditto.”

You rolled your eyes. “How romantic of you Warren.”

“Come on.” Warren mused, his lips brushing yours. “You know you love it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” You pulled him close again, your lips molding perfectly into his. Your fear of swimming melting away as you floated in the water with him, knowing that the rest of the summer would be spent like this. In his arms under the soft glow of the summer sun.

Taglist: @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @shlutnutt @rottenstyx @cursedandromedablack @nightlockcornucopia @usuck @tatesimper dm to be added to Taglist

#warren lipka aka love of my life #warren lipka fanfiction #warren lipka x y/n #warren lipka fluff #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka x you #warren lipka headcannon #evan peters #evan peters fluff #evan peters x you #evan peters characters #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #tate langdon fluff #tate langdon x reader #Tate Langdon

[ackerslut]

of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)

ao3

Hugo does not believe in soulmates.

To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.

Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?

Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.

Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.

“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.

She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.

Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.

Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.

He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”

Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”

She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”

“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.

“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”

“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”

“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”

“I don’t have a soul.”

“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”

___

“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.

Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.

Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.

“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”

Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”

Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.

“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.

“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”

“The Snip?”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.

Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”

Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.

“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”

“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.

Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”

___

“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.

Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.

The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.

He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.

Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”

When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.

He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.

“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”

He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”

“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”

Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.

“You could say that.”

“How do-how did you know they were-”

She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”

___

Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.

Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.

So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.

“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”

The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.

So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.

“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.

Hugo had scoffed.

Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.

“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.

Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.

“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”

Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”

The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”

Hugo swallows.

“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”

___

At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.

It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.

Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.

So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.

“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.

The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.

“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.

Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.

But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”

The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.

“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.

Varian turns back to the stars.

“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”

“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”

“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”

Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”

“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”

He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.

Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah? What would I do?”

Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”

He lets go of Hugo.

Hugo immediately misses his warmth.

“And what would be the smart thing.”

“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”

“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.

Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”

“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.

“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”

“Varian.”

Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.

Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.

“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”

Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”

“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.

Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.

___

#varigo #hugo vat7k #varian #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #eugene fitzherbert #my fanfic #vat7k fanfic #tts #tts fafic

[dynyamight]

I've seen a lot of people do it, so if you are up for it~ Ship your moots!

FINALLY. THE AWAITED LIST OF MOOTS IS COMPLETE. sorry this took forever anon!!

now, this is going to be long & i will try not to overexplain my ship pairings. did i take time to think about each paring? yes. but, will they be serious? no. they are dumb & silly.

let the crack pairings begin <3!!

@dekusneakers x BAKUGOU & TODOROKI now you would think? sneakers in a throuple? how come? mmm simple. i couldn’t choose one for her so she gets both. the more the merrier. besides, she deserves love from both sides, kisses on both cheeks. one begrudgingly smooch & one icy kith. as a deku kin, she’s completely satisfied. you’re welcome

@izusun x AIZAWA & ORCA similarly, i can’t have my bestie here with just ONE babe. so, i thought why don’t we get a fatherly figure & a dad bod to give her all the love she needs. so yes, bestie, you two deserves hugs at both sides of you. a twiggy one & a muscly one. the sun needs some shade, & that shade is these men.

@midnightpirates x SUKUNA he’s a mass murderer !! you can’t— oh, but i can. you see, yanna here hates mahito & guess who was the one to fuck up his shit. ah, that’s right, it was sukuna. two mahito an/tis sitting in a tree <3 it’s the perfect match made in hell.

@goth-himbo-dabi x DOCTOR WHO once again, people might wonder: why not dabi? my answer? it’s because my bby here finds the twiggy men attractive. i know, bummer. & you can’t get any twiggy-er than david tennant & matt smith. but which doctor? all of them.

@minisheku x KAMINARI i see you simp for his dunce face. & honestly, who wouldn’t?? also, i originally put sheepku,, but that’s ,, a bit weird. but, here’s the solution. you OWN a sheepku, with kaminari. ah yes, a modern day family unit. & he can entertain you, as well as be a source of electricity for your drawing tablet !! resources !!

@oyavaski x EN you said he was hot literally in your tags earlier in a reblog. so, i am simply gifting you water to quench your thirst. may you two meet in afo, & fall in love in the subconscious of deku’s mind. will deku feel awks? yeah. but like pfft, he’s so whipped for bkg, he’ll forget you two chilling in the corner of his thoughts.

@okworstie x GOJO & WATARI i never have to look up the gojo tag, like ever. because you’re always plastering his face all over my timeline. & yes, this is a good thing. but, the same applies to watari. i have never even seen bakudiez, or whatever it’s called, but apparently he’s aro, & there’s a moth man, & tape hits post limit thursday’s? yeah just keep both, mimi.

@rrandomtthings x AN/TI as one of fellow loyal, amazing bkdks, i think it’s only fitting that you find true love with a bkdk an/ti. create the banti we seek in our community. the enemies to lovers trope is in your blood, written in your deku genes. so, i dedicate the banti movement with this small offering of a ship. may you find diamonds on the minecraft server & build a diamond cabin.

@believeyourgalaxy x ITADORI you two are such cinnamon rolls !!!! super friendly. super kind. super relatable. & together, you guys can pin over megumi. maybe hopefully, sam can help itadori with his low iq brain to finally get together with megumi. because damn, sam can be like “this is my boyfriend, itadori. & this is itadori’s boyfriend, megumi.”

@wrensknight x SHIRAKUMO i didn’t even know it was oboro birthday, until you not only made a public post about to, but made art for him. cloud boy needs that partner to respect & cherish him entirely. & you just treat him so right?? draw him so good?? i hope you can go cloud watching & then later, ride the clouds with him. till death do you guys uh,, you know,,

@b1m0 x MIDORIYA you can't stand when he gets injured, let alone reckless & trying to save the world, when he should literally be saving his own ass. but, that just means you care about him DEEPLY. plus, you both are wholesome people. obviously two cinnamon rolls make a whole bakery !! & who doesn't want a bakery ?? i sure do! wehjw idk why i brought the point here, but just know you two make sense.

@mysterionrising x RENGOKU & VIGILANTE DEKU it’s that enemies to lovers trope once again !! for someone who wrote him off as annoying the first seconds she met him, kenny sure flipped over to the stan side. ever since then, i can only see kenny when i see rengoku. but, you know who else reminds me of kenny. vigilante deku. it’s super fruity that you have an entire bomb playlist for him. so keep him too !!

@kamishima x KIRISHIMA you are the biggest kiri simp i have ever met. you basically ship kiri with anyone who makes him happy. though, you do have a lot of ships, but with kiri it’s different. & so, i was thinking ‘mmm, if bug ships kiri with so many people?? shouldn’t she ship him with HERSELF?’ boom. suddenly both kiri & bug are happy, with a lovely home. my work here is done.

@ckatsudon x LAW LIET did i dig through your blog. why yes. & you know what i found? reblogs & tags dedicated to L. he’s best boy. he’s precious. he deserves a better end. an end with you. mmhmm !! because if we rewrote death note, where you were light, i think L & light could have been canon. & that also would make you happy. & the rest of the entire world

@drfox-kinnie x UNIKITTY i don’t even know the show, let alone who unikitty is exactly. but, you reblogged a banner, confirming your love for unikitty. & so, i am of course doing you a big favor !! she’s bubbly, friendly, & passionate just like you !! & bestie, while i may not know nothing about her, i know you love her. so, maybe you two platonically have a wonderful time, adventuring with the other wholesome characters !! also,, is she big enough to travel on? if so, look i got you a cat car!!

@midorree x MINACHAKO i ship you with another ship. why? because i can. besides, you are like my moot who is genuinely a head leader of the minachako ship on my timeline, & you have steadily been converting me?? but, i also noticed that mina AND uraraka have stolen your heart, & you have yet to fight them for it back. i hope you three can go into a brawl & see who can grab each other’s hands fastest.

@kiribakuxkacchakolover x HATSUME YOU HAVE IT AS YOUR TITLE HEADER. like you are literally having a billboard that calls mei your cutie patootie. &, you ask, & you shall receive. i hope you two can be the dorkiest nerds together, & ramble for eons & eons. i hope i’m invited to the transformer wedding you two will have <,3

@balaroo x MIRUKO like before, you too have your interest out in the open in your title header. but, you see, miruko is a total babe, with confidence & ego & with this stride that makes even the most alpha male quiver. you would be a total wife to miruko’s girlboss energy & that’s why this ship totally works.

@quix-mix x FREDDY FAZBEAR my precious lil young moot, i dug into your blog & noticed you enjoy the fnaf games. & mmm are you perhaps wanting to cuddle a certain demonic teddy bear? well, i approve. he'll fall in love, head over heels, with your art, he might not possess you right away !! might. but, listen, you always do enjoy the villains (; i gotchu !!

@lonely-rabbit x LANCE you said we’re moots & i agree, we are. however, i have noooo idea what even are your preferences. so, i went digging. & it’s such a coincidence that we bonded over our voltron trauma, & yet you still continue to simp over lance. &, like i don’t blame you !!! he’ll always be dumb baby & so all i ask is that you love him, for our sake. & sanity.

#star responds #THIS TOOK FOREVER STILL #EVEN WITH MY SHORT EXPLANATIONS #but tadaaaa #the moots have now been complied #& ahajsbkssj i HOPE you all like your pairings. even the dumb ones < #I ALREADY KNOW SOME OF YALL WILL LAUGH LMAOO #otherwise if you want to roast me & what my pairing would be. pls feel free to do so #this was so fun omgg thank you anon for this opportunity!! #anon #moots

[bellamyblakru]

You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out (lancelot / merlin)

EKKK I FINISHED THIS OMGGG. thank you so so much for sending this prompt in mor sksksksksk this was so much fun to write and im so happy to get back into writing (for a minute at least 😂). my mercelot heart loved every second of this, so i hope you enjoy it as well🥺💖💖it is very merlin-centric but i hope that doesn’t ruin the experience!! thank you again🥺💖

you can read it here or on ao3!!💖

Merlin stumbled up the stairs into the castle, scarcely aware of his panting echoing loudly in the empty corridor. He knew that he should be throwing himself into Gaius’s room, shutting the door, and sleeping this off, but he couldn’t make it that far. He needed somewhere to go—and fast. He felt the wound pull with each step, the blood soaking his shirt and pants enough that he couldn’t remember what color they originally were.

Lancelot is going to be furious with him.

——————that morning——————

No one was smiling this morning as Merlin made his way to the throne room. A sort of silence had fallen around the castle like a leaden blanket, and Merlin feared that it did not bode well for anyone.

Things have been fine lately, happy almost. Of course that couldn’t last—when could they ever just be at peace?

He pushed open the throne room doors as quietly as he could, peering inside to see most of the knights already assembled staring at the map with matching frowns.

As he walked closer, Eylan and Leon looked up briefly to smile and nod at him before returning to the map, and he realized Gwaine, Percy, and Lancelot were nowhere to be found. Going to his place behind Arthur, who stared at the map with such heat that Merlin was surprised it didn’t burn up immediately, he asked quietly, “Where are the others?”

Arthur jerked up and spun around toward him, surprised evident on his face, “When did you get here?”

Merlin let out a small laugh, “I told you I can be quiet when I want to be, sire.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and huffed, “And you never want to be quiet during hunts? Even when I ask nicely?”

Merlin gaped, “When do you ever ask nicely?”

Arthur smirked, “Fair enough.” he sobered up before continuing, “The others are coming back from a quick patrol I sent them on this morning. When you were collecting herbs for Gaius, a citizen from an outlying village came sobbing about rampant magic wielders killing everyone they come across in the name of freedom.” He shook his head in disgust, “I sent Percival, Gwaine, and Lance to escort the villager home to retrieve his family and friends to bring them into Camelot for safety. They should be back soon with news.”

Merlin swallowed hard at the thought of more magic being used for evil, for destruction. How can he ever show his friends, especially Arthur, how good magic can be if they only ever see it used for pain?

He nodded sharply in reply, masking his face of any sign of distraught, and calmly walked back to the pillar he normally leans against during audience and council meetings.

Moments like these were the hardest. Where his lies buried themselves so deep in his soul that he could feel himself failing to reach the surface for air. He will dream of the pyre tonight, he knew, and will be forced awake with the sound of his own choking from asphyxiation. He will stay awake for hours after, staring into darkness, wondering how much more of his own kin he will have to slaughter before they can claim true liberation. How much blood on his hands will he need to be considered the monster everyone believes him to be with this power?

He felt himself tremble with the thoughts. Looking around the room flooded with the late sunlight, he narrowed his stare at his friends discussing plans around the table, and begrudgingly felt his panic kick in. The trapping feeling suffocating any breath he had—he was trapped, and it was a cage of destiny’s own making.

His eyes darted from door to door, the urge to run, fast and far away, becoming almost unbearable and inescapable. He was considering excusing himself with some bad reason when the door slammed open—knights and the villager in tow.

Lancelot’s eyes immediately snapped to his, and Merlin knew then that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, run—not when Lancelot’s first look towards him was filled with such a deep understanding and sympathy.

Lance knew everything and didn’t think him a monster, and that is what kept him from darting every time Arthur called him useless, or dumb, or threw something at him. He wondered then if Lancelot would run away with him if he asked. Would the knight’s loyalty be tested or would he simply stand by his King without batting an eye? He would never ask Lance to make such a decision, though.

The knight was his closest friend, his most trusted confidante, and every day Merlin ached with the knowledge that Lancelot bared his secrets alongside him. If Merlin was to burn, Lance would be on the next prye.

Merlin refused to let that happen.

He snapped himself out of the daze he fell into, eyes refocusing on the knights speaking with the King. Merlin watched how Lance’s glance kept flicking his way, and when Merlin met the barely concealed worry within them, he tried to give a reassuring smile. However, Lance’s frown deepened—Merlin sighed, And here I thought I was good at this facade.

“..gathered all the others and placed them in a large tavern in the lower town. They should be safe there,” Percy told Arthur, who nodded in response.

The villager was shaking, Merlin belatedly realized, as he looked at Arthur’s chest to speak next, “M-my family appreciates your efforts, s-sire.”

Arthur grimaced, “No need to thank me. I wouldn’t want any more of my people hurt from these maniacs.” He stepped forwards, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “Go now. Rest with your family, I will make sure you are all seen to, properly.”

The man sputtered his thanks and dropped into a clumsy bow before turning around. Merlin, unable to stop his feet from moving, quickly walked forwards to catch the man before he disappeared, “Sir?”

The man froze, still shaking, as he looked up to Merlin with confusion. Merlin continued, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The man gave him a gentle smile, seeming to relax with Merlin’s presence, “I’m alright, young man, thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

Merlin gave a tentative smile, aiming for charming and warming, “If you ever need any assistance, I live with the Court Physician. Ask for Gaius or myself, and we will be there.”

The man clasped arms with him, a crooked smile forming, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again—thank you all.”

Merlin watched him go, unease in his gut. He didn’t know what it was about the man that made him uneasy, but it simmered long after the villager left them alone in the throne room.

Merlin turned around to see the others talking amongst each other and he made it to Lancelot’s side just as Gwaine began talking.

“Princess, I’m telling you: no one seemed scared! Only that man’s family seemed a little unsettled, and even then, it seems suspicious to me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Do you expect them all to be sobbing and cowering? Of course they are putting up strong fronts! If my home was under attack, I know I wouldn’t want to show fear. I would rather be fighting against the attackers than hiding away in some strange town.”

Gwaine didn’t reply, but Merlin knew that Arthur’s answer wasn’t enough for the knight. Merlin stayed quiet, though, already calculating when he should go out to take care of this. Arthur ruined his calculations with his next proclaiment, however.

While rubbing the bridge of his nose, the King sighed out, “We will go as a group tomorrow to face them. Gather the provisions tonight, prepare the horses with any protection we can gather in the short amount of time. We will meet in front of the stables at first light.”

And with a ‘Yes, sire’ muttered by everyone, Arthur dismissed them.

Merlin didn’t hesitate to beeline for the door and escape before Arthur ordered him to do anything—he needed to think of something, and rather fast at that.

Merlin found himself on top of the battlements, staring at the horizon that seemed too far and much too close all at once. He usually found himself here to clear his mind. The view made him feel alive, more connected to the world, and, most importantly, he didn’t have to hold such a tight grip on his magic this far above.

No one ever came here besides him.

With a sigh, Merlin loosened his hold and let his magic out through his nose with his breathing. His skin seemed to stop crawling from the inside out, the sky looked more blue, and the air felt sweeter in his lungs. It had been too long since he could let go and he knew part of his trapped feeling had to do with his magic being stifled within his veins for too long. He took a deep breath, willing his magic back in slightly, and he laid down looking up towards the sky.

The sun will be going down soon, and Merlin figured he will be leaving after dinner to approach these rouges himself to handle them before it got the knights killed. He glared at the sky when he realized he couldn’t ask Lancelot to come with him—not again. He has endangered that man’s life quite enough just by breathing, and with his hope to keep Lancelot safe for as long as possible, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. Lance would say yes, like always, but Merlin cannot—will not—actively put him in harm's way.

Merlin shuddered thinking of a life without Lancelot in it, and, well, it was simply unfathomable.

Lance was his rock, his reason to keep fighting when shit hits the fan, the only person who constantly sees Merlin for who he is and does not cower from it. Lancelot embraces every part of Merlin, flaw and all, and Merlin would be completely lost without him in his life. Lance swears that Merlin is the bravest man he ever met, but was it out of bravery or selfishness that Merlin faced all these threats alone? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t want to think too much about it in fear of the true answer (even though, deep down, he knew his answer was one he didn’t like).

So, the plan was rather simple: leave Camelot at dusk, talk or fight with the rouges, and make it back before sunrise.

It sounds easy enough.

A few hours later, after successfully avoiding Lancelot’s knowing gaze and delivering the King’s dinner, Merlin set out to the nearby town. He knew it was only an hour or two away from Camelot, so he snuck out of Camelot, grabbed his mare Honey, and set off briskly. His mare knew the drill by now and obliged easily, especially with Merlin’s magic soothing her with each gallop.

Soon, Merlin entered a clearing close to the town’s borders. He tied Honey a good distance away, leaving her some food, and took a deep breath before walking into the field. That uneasy feeling returned in gut and he knew this wouldn’t end well.

Just as he thought that, five hooded people walked out to meet him in the middle of the large clearing.

“Emrys, it’s good to see you again.”

Merlin squinted in the dark, “Again?”

The man laughed, throwing his hood back, “We met a few hours ago. I hope I left a good enough impression to be remembered.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Of course it’s you,” he scowled at the villager he met earlier today, “Why would it be anyone else? Why did you seek aid with King Arthur if you are part of the problem?”

Merlin was fairly certain he knew the answer already, but he needed time to access the power of each person here. The one on the left held the most potential, magic coming off her in waves, but the rest were mediocre at best, if the last person had anything at all but small tricks up his sleeve.

The man was in the middle of explaining what Merlin was sure to be an “ingenious” plan to get close to King Arthur when he interrupted, “How did you hide your magic from me? You know I’m Emrys and all, so you must realize I can read you magical abilities by proximity, but I didn’t sense it on you originally. So, how?”

The man blinked, and then glared at Merlin for his interruption, “I have a pendant that covers my magical scent. It’s been passed down through generations. My mother gave it to me to get close to the King…”

Merlin tuned him out again, pondering such an artifact. It would be useful to him against more powerful creatures, but he wondered if it hurt at all or if he could use that instead of shoving his magic deep down everyday.

When all the sorcerers looked at him expectantly, Merlin frowned, “Did you ask something?”

The powerful one spoke up this time, her voice much stronger than her peer, “We asked for you to join us, Emrys, to bring peace to our lands once more. To restore magic, free our people, make you the rightful King.”

Merlin flinched slightly, “Rightful King? I am no King. Arthur is the once and future King, the rightful heir to the throne and the only man I will serve. But I had a feeling you knew my answer already, so why try this?”

The woman shrugged, a small wicked smile on her lips, “Proving your loyalty in the flesh is a nice incentive to make it easier to kill you—the most powerful warlock or not, you are still a traitor.”

Merlin rolled his shoulders, “Let’s dance, then, shall we?”

It was brutal, to say the least, as Merlin limped back to Honey trying to ignore the blackened, scorched earth and bloodied bodies scattered about. He looked down at the wound in his abdomen and debated whether he should just stay over night or make it to Camelot before light. He completed the first two steps of his plan, he might as well continue with it. So with a painful moan, Merlin hoisted himself on top of his mare, who neighed upset at the smell of bad copper, and willed her to go back home. He didn’t have the strength to hold the reins, not when both hands were being used to staunch the blood flow.

He swayed with the frantic galloping, trying to forget the pure malice on the villager's face when he stabbed him when Merlin was off guard for a second. The villager had taunted to kill Merlin’s knight when he was done with him after he managed to stick the knife and that’s when Merlin’s magic exploded out of him. His magic responded with his emotions—and when Lance was threatened, his heart stopped beating for a second before the world exploded in a blinding white light. No one survived after that blow.

Merlin was barely conscious when he made it back to the stables, but he was able to sneak back in the way he came out—completely unnoticed by the guards, even with his blood loss, Merlin knew how to get in and out of Camelot quietly and quickly.

Merlin stumbled up the stairs into the castle, scarcely aware of his panting echoing loudly in the empty corridor. He knew that he should be throwing himself into Gaius’s room, shutting the door, and sleeping this off, but he couldn’t make it that far. He needed somewhere to go—and fast. He felt the wound pull with each step, the blood soaking his shirt and pants enough that he couldn’t remember what color they originally were.

Lancelot will freak out when he sees him, but Merlin had no other choice. Limping, he blindly remembered the route to Lancelot’s room as he clung onto consciousness with every fiber of his being.

Just a few more steps. Lance will keep you safe—he always keeps you safe.

With his vision narrowing with the blackness crawling in, Merlin quickened his steps and landed in front of Lance’s room. He collapsed, hitting the door with his body, and the last thing he saw was Lance’s terrified expression before he welcomed unconsciousness with a sigh of relief.

——————

Merlin woke up, wincing from the ache in his body, and blinked a couple times at the ceiling before he remembered what happened. He quickly sat up, and then immediately regretted the action when the room started swaying.

When he managed to calm his breathing and dizziness, he leaned against the headboard of the bed and his eyes found a still awake Lancelot, who was staring blankly at the roaring fire.

“Lance?” Merlin croaked out, his voice dry and scratchy like he had been screaming for hours.

The knight slowly looked up from the fireplace, and Merlin saw how red-rimmed his eyes were.

“Lance, I’m—“

He threw his hand up, stopping Merlin, and stood up to start pacing in front of the bed. Merlin watched, heart aching, as Lance tried to work his breathing into something less panicked, less terrified.

He stopped abruptly, spinning to look at Merlin. They held the stare for a moment before Lance started glowering at him, “Merlin.”

Usually, the way Lance says his name gives him butterflies, not that he ever admitted that to anyone, but this time made him look down in shame and he started absentmindedly picking a loose thread in the knight’s blanket. Merlin realized then that he was completely cleaned, in Lance’s small clothes, and there was a glass of water next to the bed. Merlin’s heart warmed at the actions, but when he looked back up to see a still fuming Lance, Merlin scooted forwards to try and grab the man’s hand.

Lance let himself be grabbed, and Merlin pulled him onto the bed in front of him as whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Lance huffed, his anger still not dissipated, “Merlin,” and said warlock looked up to see waring emotions in the knight’s eyes, “I was more than scared. I was...terrified.” He shook his head, using his free hand to wipe down his face, “I couldn’t find you after the meeting, so I searched the entire castle for you. I knew you were planning on doing something idiotic, but I didn’t realize you would do it so soon.”

Merlin heard Lancelot’s breathing hitch before he continued, “I thought maybe you went out for more herbs, or that Arthur had you working overtime and that's why I couldn’t find you. I-I couldn’t sleep when I figured out that you must have gone without me. And I know you can handle yourself—Gods!” He stood up again, anger and fear and pain in every movement, “I was so scared, Merlin! Do you know what it’s like to know your best friend left you behind on some self-sacrificing quest for some reason? Is it because you don’t want my help? You would rather risk your life over and over again without me at your side as backup? Am I that horrible?”

At Lance’s frantic questions, Merlin felt the tears falling down his face as he vehemently shook his head no.

Lance saw this, stopped moving, and whispered, “My heart completely stopped for a moment when I saw the state you were in. Merlin,” he let out a small, broken gasp of air, “I thought this time that I-that I would lose you. And I can’t—“ he covered his mouth when a strangled sort of sob escaped him, the anger bleeding out to utter exhaustion.

Merlin blindly reached out for Lancelot’s hand again, pulling him back down to him, and they stayed like that, intertwined, for a few moments before Merlin had regained enough strength to talk.

While rubbing Lance’s knuckles with his thumb, Merlin quietly spoke, “Lancelot,” he waited until the man’s beautiful brown eyes met his, “I cannot lose you.”

And when Lance opened his mouth to say something, Merlin plowed on, “I should’ve told you that a long time ago. You-you keep me centered. You make me want to live, Lance. Not survive, not exist. Live.

I never had someone who looks at me the way you do, who knows all the dark shit about me and continues to look at me the same way. I make mistakes, constantly. I hurt people, Lance, and it kills me a little more each time. I hurt my own kin to keep Camelot safe, to keep you safe, and I ache knowing that I damned you with me. That’s the worst pain of all. I was born damned, but you? I dragged you into it, and I will not allow you to be set aflame alongside me. I refuse.

You deserve a life without this extra burden I force upon you. I am cursed with this life, but you have the ability to turn a blind eye, to not be feared for simply breathing.”

Merlin felt the bed shift, and his brief thought that he finally drove his only true friend in his life away was squashed when Lance sat next to him, pulling him underneath his arm. Merlin’s tears came back when curled into Lance’s side, his hand on the knight’s chest feeling his heart beating steadily.

Lance stroked through Merlin’s hair softly, “Merlin,” and there were those damn butterflies again, “I choose to stay at your side. You are the best person I know. And before you deny it, I know you are forced to make hard decisions every other day, and I know you are the most powerful warlock to ever exist, and, in spite of those facts, who you are, at your core, never changes.

You can burn cities down with a flick of your wrist, you can harm anything or anyone with barely a thought, you can overthrow Arthur at any moment, but you know why you don’t? Because, in your heart and in your soul, you are a good, beautiful person. You see the light when others only see the dark, you defend those who cannot fight for themselves, you love so deeply and unconditionally that everyone you meet can’t help but adore you.

So, no, I will not let you pick for me who I chose to love. I picked you to stand by, with your magic and all, and I will always pick you. If you wanted to leave Camelot tonight, I would pack my bags without hesitation. You did not damn or burden me, love. You are all that I believe in, and I will never turn my back on you.

I will be by your side, for as long as you want me, to whatever end. If we burn tomorrow, then we burn together. I’ve made peace with my decision a long time ago.”

He kissed the top of Merlin’s head when he finished, pulling him closer to let him cry onto his chest while rubbing the warlock’s back. With his free hand, he wiped away his own tears before grabbing Merlin’s loose hand.

“So...” Lancelot said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, “if you leave on some self-sacrificing mission without letting me help you again, I will tell Gaius on you.”

Merlin gasped dramatically, leaning up on Lance’s chest to look him in the eyes, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Lance smirked, “Oh, I would.”

Merlin gaped, the smile breaking through betraying his false exasperation, “Fine. I’ll bring you with me next time, but promise me one thing?”

Lance softened, nodding, and Merlin laid back down listening to the knight’s heart beat as he spoke, “If I tell you to run, you will run without hesitation.”

There was silence for a moment before Lance responded, “I cannot promise that, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned, looking back up to see Lance’s eyes already on him, “I cannot promise that because I would rather die than leave you alone during a battle. Even if the odds are stacked against us, I will never leave you behind. If I run, you run. If you fight, I fight. We are in this together, Merls.”

Merlin couldn’t stop the tears from falling again as words sank in fully, “To whatever end, huh?”

Lance smiled softly, nodding, “Let’s get some rest. After almost scaring me to death, I am completely spent.”

Merlin went still, preparing himself to leave the warmth of Lancelot’s body, but Lance tilted his chin up as he asked, “Stay the night?”

Merlin beamed, wrapping himself completely with his knight. He fit into Lance’s side perfectly, like it was always meant to be the two of them against the world.

And when Merlin drifted off to sleep, with Lance’s hands still rubbing his back, he felt lighter than he had in years. And for the first time in a long time, no nightmares plagued his dreams.

#ashley answers #ashley writes #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #mercelot #merlin x lancelot #bbc merlin #THANK YOU LOVELY 🥺💖💖💖💖i adore uuuu #my first time in mercelot territory....hopefully it doesn’t suck LOL #mercelot fanfic #also lol at me basically writing it all in one sitting 💀

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 140 prt 1

140

Rieva climbed into bed, laying so she was facing him. Lance crying. It hurt yelling at Keith. He’d sacked up and told his boyfriend and Keith... No. Keith had a right to be mad, but Rieva was kind of right that he hadn’t had the right time to tell Keith

“Lance, can you look at me?”

Sniffling, Lance pried his eyes open, Rieva smiling at him

“Boys just don’t get it”

Lance snorted, hiccuping weirdly but she wasn’t yelling so that was kind of nice

“I really have been trying”

“I know you would have been. I’m sorry we heard you”

“I knew he’d be mad... but he wasn’t there”

“He wanted to be. He really did. Not being with you he was angry and he frustrated. I think he’s beyond hurting over Mami. I know he brought her a Christmas gift. I think he believed he’d be coming home to both his family members”

Lance sniffled again

“He was supposed to be...”

“I know. He knows too. You know he blows up when he gets angry at himself, especially when he had this dream to come back to you. Are the twins really in risk?”

“Coran made it sound like... maybe. He said so many things and didn’t want me to come back here alone, but I wanted to be where I’d been with Mami. I could still smell her, and I... we were waiting here for Keith...”

Rieva held her arm open, Lance scooching into her hold

“You two really have so much to talk about. I am a little disappointed you thought Keith wouldn’t return”

“I didn’t know what to think. I thought I’d have Mami for longer than I did. You guys were gone. I thought coming back to a sad sack of a vampire would be the last thing you’d want to do... I wanted to be waiting here happily. I feel like I let you all down by not being okay”

“Idiot. Mami was a wonderful woman. She was very wonderful to us, despite us not being her children”

“She loved everyone... I don’t know if I’m even capable of loving me”

Hugging Rieva felt nice. Hugging Keith had felt nice too

“You think too much! You love Keith and Keith loves you. You will have two healthy babies and I will be the favourite aunt!”

“I don’t know... I... had a bleed”

“And now your heart is full of more fear. Keith’s heart is too filled with fear. He hurts from feeling he is never where you need him. Honestly, much of Rome was very tiresome. Had Shiro not been there to keep him in line I feel he would have come back all the sooner”

“Keith said you were hurt”

“Ah. Yes...”

“I was so mean to you...”

“I would rather you be you than acting out of sympathy for a wound long healed”

“What happened?”

“Lotor went to confront his parents. He was foolish. Though he did kill Zarkon with his own hands. Honerva had already lost her mind, her grief... you know of loss, and of grief”

“Are you really okay?”

“I am. As is Matthew. We both were looking forward to being home with you again”

“I’m sorry I ruined your plan”

Rieva stroked his hair

“You have done nothing wrong. This is hard. Matthew has a big mouth, but a kind heart”

“I love having you guys around. I was... so ashamed of myself”

“Silly. You are very silly. We love you, you are part of our pack”

That’s not how a pack worked

“I’m a vampire”

“We can’t all be perfect. Can you see it in your heart to forgive Keith?”

He wasn’t mad at Keith, he was mad at his inability to just wind back the clock and remember how to be loved by him. Compliments left him flustered, he didn’t see what Keith saw when he looked at him and his big mouth wrecked things

“I know he wasn’t away because he wanted to be, when I think of him coming home to all of this I feel I let him down”

“You are the only one who feels this way. You alone. Now, do you forgive him”

“I forgive him but I don’t forgive me. I know I had to tell him. These are his children. I don’t want to make decisions without him about them. But he’d choose me over them and... even if I’m not comfortable like this, I am so in love with them”

“You are taking too much on alone. Packs stick together. It’s not uncommon at all back at home”

He didn’t know how to be part of a pack. He loved his friends... did that make them there own kind of pack seeing he thought of them as family already?

“I’m just... it’s hard”

“Letting Keith in was hard for you. Letting him go is impossible for you. He cannot let you go either and he would not”

“Everyone leaves in the end”

“They have not met Keith. I seem to remember hearing how you tried to kick him out before you started dating and he refused to go”

Yep. That was true. He’d thrown him out in the sun. Let him drink blood. Jumped out the window to get away from him

“He thought I’d turned him. He punched me in the mouth and started screaming how I bit him”

“No one said he was the smartest of men...”

Lance and his ego took instant offence to that. Keith was smart. He was so fucking smart. He just didn’t believe in himself the way he should

“He’s smart. He can do anything once he puts his mind to it”

“I know that too, yet he is stupidly in love with you”

Rieva sounded like a mother telling their child they were the greatest artist ever to appease them. He hated this. It was just... he didn’t feel like they were quite clicking. He... he wanted Keith. He’d even fed off of him because he knew that was what Keith wanted him to do. He was trying. He was past the stage of a pat on the head or a gold star, but some acknowledgement would be nice

“Rieva, I don’t know how to be better”

“With time. Time heals all wounds. Losing Mami is fresh. Keith knows you never forget but for him, he only found out yesterday he lost his second mother. Give him some time with Matt, and he’ll come back with his head on straight”

“Really?”

“I’m sure of it”

“Can you help me with some stuff? I... I know what it says but I... need someone to tell me I’m not overreacting”

“I would love to. I love you. You may not be a werewolf, but you are my pack”

“I guess that makes you part of my coven?”

Rieva blew a raspberry at him

“Pack is better”

Okay. Pack it was.

*

Heading into the hotel lounge, Matt directed him to bar. Hands on his shoulders, practically shoving him, though Keith wasn’t exactly objecting. Coming over to them, the man behind the counter smiled politely, voice heavily accented, but clearly used to dealing with dumb American’s

“What can I get you both?”

“He needs tequila. We need tequila. Can you put it on our room tab?”

The man looked almost bored at the question

“Of course. I’ll need your room number, ID, and signature. Plus the agreed upon tip for deduction”

“Wait... I think...”

“Keith, let them talk. You know how Rieva is. She’ll only kick us out again”

“But”

“Nope. You need tequila. Trust me. Now, go sit and I’ll be right over”

Keith sat, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. He didn’t think tequila would solve his problems but he’d blown up at Lance. He felt like he was being punished for being away for as long as he had been. That his boyfriend was going through losing his mother was hard enough. That Coran had filled his head with ideas... He wasn’t impressed. Coran’s nagging now might be clear, but like... give a guy a break. Piling this on top of him and making him feel that his best efforts weren’t enough. Surely he had to know sometimes Lance needed a different approach than how he’d normally talk. He’d known Lance long enough to fucking know better. Keith could have kicked the table with how angry he was.

Bringing a tray of shots over, Matt grinned as he kicked his foot lightly

“Look lively, drinks are here”

“I really should be getting back”

“Or you could really drink some over priced tequila that we don’t have to pay for”

“I don’t think me going back drunk is going to help”

“Ah, Lance is already man. Rieva will make him see sense”

“I should be the...”

“Dude, don’t. Look, I didn’t hear everything because Rieva was getting changed and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s kind of hard to ignore, but it sounds like you got mad for a reason”

“He didn’t tell me about the twins. He could fucking lose them...”

“Every pregnancy carries that risk”

“God. You don’t get it, do you? He lost Mami. He doesn’t feel like he’s good enough how he is. He’s so fucking perfect and he’s been dealing alone with this shit”

Matt sat a shot in front of him

“You sound like you’ve already been drinking. Drink”

“I don’t...”

“Drink or I’ll make you drink! Seriously, let Rieva sort things out with Lance. She knows about babies and stuff and she’ll get through to him”

“I want to be get through to him. I want to learn about that stuff”

“Ahhh, but we can’t push them out. Now drink”

Keith drank... and things got a bit blurry. Crying against Matt, he was making a fool of himself. He’d hit that stage of drunkness where he’d word vomited onto Matt. He loved Lance. Like super duper loved Lance. Like he’d marry the fuck out the man. They’d have four kids. Get another dog. He’d get his high school diploma. Maybe find a new job. Get matching tattoos because they were that gross couple. “He’d take the bite and be with Lance forever”, loved Lance. But Lance wouldn’t bite him. He didn’t want to get old. How would they have sex? Lance was so damn pretty. He loved his eyes and he loved that Lance loved his eyes. And all of these thoughts were coming out his mouth instead of staying in his head.

Slumping further against Matt, Keith whined pitifully

“I love him!”

Matt had a high alcohol threshold. And had been putting up with Keith’s crying for the last half an hour

“I know, buddy”

“But I really love him”

“I know”

“But I really, really love him”

“I’ve got the message, dude”

No! Matt didn’t get the message! He loved Lance. What was so hard to figure out?

“He’s so perfect... How can anyone be that perfect?”

“I don’t know, buddy. Maybe it’s time we go back to the room?”

Keith’s bottom lip quivered as he stared at Matt.

“I don’t want him to throw me out again”

“He’s not going to throw you out”

“He didn’t tell me about the twins... Doesn’t he love me? We had sex last night and you should have seen his tummy. Our babies are in that tummy. Like actual people are in his belly. They’re like cupcakes. I want cupcakes!”

Matt sighed at him. The werewolf completely to blame for Keith’s current state

“You can have cupcakes another time”

“No. I want my cupcakes now! I wanna see them!”

Beside, Hunk wasn’t there and Hunk was a god descended upon them. There wasn’t anything that Hunk couldn’t cook. Again, his thoughts were still being said out loud

“Okay. That enough. We’re going back to the room”

“But Lance...”

One moment Keith was down, the next he was up. Matt was holding him up. Why was Matt holding him up? Patting himself down, he didn’t seem to be hurt

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out where I’m hurt”

“You’re not hurt”

“Then why are you holding me up? And my are my feet so far away?”

Matt groaned at him. They were two legitimate questions if anyone asked Keith

“Because your feet are connected to your legs which are connected to the rest of you”

“I want another shot”

“No, buddy. No more tequila”

“Why?”

“The hotel’s run out. Now start moving”

“How does a hotel run out of tequila? We’re in Cuba!”

“You have something to drink when we get back to the room”

“I don’t wanna have sex with you. You’re not Lance. His butt is so pretty. He likes it when I...”

Matt clamped his hand over Keith’s mouth, Keith didn’t know why. He was just going to say Lance liked it when he plowed him into the mattress. He’d be so cute with that tummy hanging while Keith fucked him. Lance was so cute. He missed him.

Making it to the door, Matt knocked, Rieva letting them in

“Rieva! Did Lance talk to you? Does he still love me? I love him... I wanna suck his dick”

Rieva giggled as Matt groaned

“Help”

“Shut up. You wish you were sucking Lance off. Did you suck him off? I’ll kill you if you sucked him off”

Propelled in, Keith crashed into Rieva

“Lance! Keith’s back! He’s had tequila!”

Lance came out wearing a singlet that seemed to accentuate his bump. Keith hiding behind Rieva. He didn’t want to be in trouble with Lance again

“I brought something of yours back”

Keith gripped Rieva

“I don’t wanna go! He’s mad at me!”

Matt took him by the shoulders, Keith pulling Rieva as Matt pulled him

“Please take him. He’s spent the last hour crying about how perfect you are”

Matt didn’t get it! Did he not see that cute little belly?

“Lance is perfect! He is best boy... bestest boy? Besterest? I wanna be with Lance”

“Lance, I’ll never do it again if you take him now”

Lance drew closer, Keith starting to cry. He’d had tooooooo much to drink

“Babe... I’m not mad. Not at you. Not really, I love you, Keith”

Opening his arms, Keith dove straight in for the hug

“I love you, too!”

Chuckling, Lance kissed his cheek

“I’ve got him, guys. Thanks. And thanks for the talk, Rieva. I really did need it”

“You’re most welcome. Seeing dinner won’t be happening, we’ll come see you for breakfast”

“Sounds good. Thanks. Matt, no more tequila for Keith”

“I learned my lesson. I was trying to make him feel better then he started talking about sex... He’s so happy about becoming a dad. Take care of him”

Rieva and Matt left. Lance dragging him into their bedroom. Sitting him on the end of the bed, his boyfriend started undressing him

“What are you doing?”

Lance chuckled at him

“You’re going to have a hell of a hangover, and you can’t go to bed fully clothed”

“But I don’t wanna sleep?”

“You’ll be comfier out of your clothes”

“You just want to sleep with me... you looked so hot with my dick up arse and your belly bouncing as you rode me”

Zero filter. Lance blushed, spluttering slightly as he tugged on Keith’s shoe laces. He didn’t remember putting his shoes back on...

“Babe, you’re drunk”

“I know. But you’re like... like perfection. I wanna marry you. I wanna have four kids and marry you and I wanna fuck you until I get old and grey and I wanna have a life with you and I don’t wanna not have you...”

Lance paused, looking up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes

“Keith, you’re super drunk. Let me get your shoes off”

“I don’t wanna take them off! I wanna cuddle with my cupcakes!”

“Cupcakes?”

“Our twins. They’re so big now and I missed it and it’s not fair because you’re so beautiful and you’re all cute and round and I just wanna be with you for like forever, because I love you”

“If you love me, be good for me and stay still and quiet until I’ve got your shoes off”

Keith gave it a fair effort, going red in the face as he tried to keep quiet. Lance getting his shoes, socks, and shirt off

“Up we go mister, time for the pants”

Not his pants... Lance was gonna see. The breath he’d been holding exploding out, Lance quirking an eyebrow

“I can do it”

“I know. Stand up already”

“But I’m horny...”

“I already know you get horny. It’s alright”

“But we fought... you arse is like... like amazing and all that shit but I love you... I can stick my dick in you when you’re mad at me! What if I poke the twins!?”

He had a new genuine concern. How did that work?! Lance was laughing at him, voice wobbling with laughter

“Babe. Shut up and let me strip you down already”

He’d progressed to drunken slurring

“Nooooo. You’ll see my boner”

“I love you and your boner”

“I wanna stick it in you but I want you to know I love and I want to be with you and I don’t wanna fight and I...”

“Keith, shhh. You’re making this hard. Can we please just get you out your jeans?”

Lance got forceful and Keith was out of his jeans without remembering actually having moved. Wrapping his arms around Lance, he nuzzled into his boyfriend’s bump, Lance placing a hand on his hair as he did

“I’m sorry I got short with you. I’ve been trying so hard to do everything right and it feels like I’m a bad father already”

Keith’s head shot up, shaking it quickly he protested

“I’m the bad dad! I left you for three months! Three! I didn’t wanna but... I wanted you to be safe and I couldn’t even be there and I’m like the worst boyfriend in the world and you should be yelling at me but they’re my twins too and I want to know and I want to hold them already and I don’t want something bad to happen to them and I don’t want to lose you and...”

“I’ve been trying really hard. Doing everything I’m told... I know I broke your heart giving up...”

That was right. He was mad. Lance decided all these things on his own! He wouldn’t just let Lance leave him. He was his boyfriend. His. He’d licked him and that made him his! No backsies or swapsies

“You’re an arsehole and liar! I really love and you doubted me! You said you wouldn’t leave me...”

“Keith, I had no word from you for a month. I was hardly that fun to be around before...”

“It’s not about always having fun! It’s about me! I want you”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[mckinlily]

shalluraweek day 2: wings/bloom

Summary: wings/bloom The war is over, the paladins are back on Earth, but Shiro and Allura find adjusting to peace might be harder than expected.

read on ao3 here

Truth was, it took way too long for Allura to notice. The war was over, Zarkon and Hagar were safely (finally) dead, and the Paladins of Voltron had returned to Earth. Even negotiations with the Galaxy Garrison and Earth’s other ruling parties had, at long last, come to an end. (Earth’s pollical system was surprising complicated and rigid compared to what Allura would have expected from knowing her paladins. When she had told Shiro that, he had just laughed and laughed.) With the politics and negotiations over, the paladins were finally able to go home.

Keith was in the desert, soaking up the Earth sun and the quiet.

Pidge had reunited her family and was making up for lost time.

Hunk traveled to his grandparents's ranch to finally meet two of his youngest nieces.

Lance had gotten absorbed into the mass of parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, distance relatives, and possibly nearby neighbors and outright strangers who just got caught up in the fuss, showing him in the praise and attention deserved.

And Shiro was back at the Garrison, sharing his experience and knowledge with faculty and cadets both. Allura thought he looked very handsome in the sharp cut of his grey uniform, regal and commanding like he always should be. He was back as a hero, and already very well on his way to becoming a beloved instructor. Which to Allura made perfect sense. He had already fought for, inspired, charmed, and occasionally strong-armed the rest of the universe; it was time he received the same kind of recognition on his home planet. He belonged here.

(Allura wasn’t sure she belonged anywhere. With the war over and on a strange planet where the inhabitants felt just enough like Alteans to be continually unnerving, she could feel herself crumpling, like her core was turning into dust.)

(They had finally disposed of Zarkon, and what was Allura besides another ten thousand year old relic? Perhaps it was time for her to fade away as well.)

So Allura told herself all was well. The paladins were safe and happy, and they no longer needed her. She was just stretching out the inevitable when the end was in sight.

It was this line of thinking that almost made her miss the problem with Shiro.

Almost. But, thankfully, not quite.

Allura was used to seeing Shiro with bags under his eyes and stress lines on his face—as much as she might not like it, it was an inevitable part of the war—and it took her way too long to realize that he shouldn’t look like that now. That wasn’t Shiro’s default state. Oh, one might think that was if they only saw Shiro in Black Paladin mode or operating in strict professionalism, but Allura had long since learned how to get past that veneer Shiro held up like a shield. The real Shiro, the true Shiro underneath the stress and the trauma and the responsibility he felt towards everyone, was a very different creature.

And once Allura pulled herself out of her moping enough to realize, it was all very clear.

She hadn’t seen Shiro tease or pull tricks or use that deadpan delivery of his dry morbid humor that left everyone who didn’t know him questioning whether or not he was joking. Not in months. Though he attended all the meetings asked of him, his eyes had lost the light that Allura and the rest of team Voltron had depended on so often in their darkest moments. His involvement in the Garrison seemed more dutiful than engaged, and despite nearly every cadet (and quite a few of the instructors) wanting to know about and know better the incredible Takashi Shirogane, Shiro seemed to be pulling into himself more and more. He wasn’t even excited about mentoring, which was especially surprising given how he had immediately latched on to the other paladins when they were younger. Oh, he tried his best with them—Shiro’s kindness, at least, hadn’t diminished—but it was clear his heart was somewhere far away.

At first, Allura was confused. He seemed to have a great job, a home, a planet—But then Allura thought of what she knew of Shiro, what had made him happiest when they worked side by side, and her heart fell.

Shiro had been grounded. It was so wrong Allura was astonished she hadn’t seen it out before. Mentor, teacher, commander—none of that mattered when it meant he was stuck on the ground. The wings of the great Black Paladin clipped, and oh, Allura hurt at the thought. Shiro had always been happiest the rare times where neither the war nor diplomatic negotiations where pressing on him and he got the opportunity to simply be on whatever planet they had landed on. To learn, explore, try new things. And the Garrison had cut Shiro off from all of it.

Allura’s decision was made before she even had to think about it. She caught Shiro’s hand before he turned in for bed and twined her fingers between his.

“Let’s go,” she said, and Shiro had been working with her too long to question what she meant.

Shiro’s stress lines were etched deep into his face, highlighting the redness also growing there. He held his tablet close to his chest, looking uncertain. “I should…”

Allura shook her head. “Should nothing. You don’t owe them.”

"There’s—there’s paperwork. And schedules—”

“And you’re the Black Paladin. No planetary government can tell you what to do.”

Shiro still hesitated a moment. Then he brought the tablet down. “I’ll get my things.”

As it turned out, Shiro didn’t bring much. Just a few sets of clothes and a personal device with a few memories. Allura took his hand again and led them to the Castle. The other Lions were scattered throughout Earth with their paladins, but the Black Lion was in its hangar. Allura spotted its eyes flash as they walked past and smiled to know it, too, was grateful the Black Paladin had come home.

“You never did fly the Castle, did you?” said Allura as they approached the bridge.

Shiro raised his eyebrows, and he eyes finally filled with a bit of that light he had been missing. “Are you offering to teach me?”

Allura let Shiro walk up to what had been her station and put his hands on the pedestals. She then wrapped her arms around him from the back and pressed her face between his shoulder blades. “Hmm...no. Figure it out.”

Allura felt his laugh more than she heard it. But Shiro didn’t hesitate. He had been living in the Castle for three years and was a fast learner. Figure it out he did, and soon they were breaking through Earth’s atmosphere.

“Where to, Princess?”

Allura smiled against his back. “I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

It was one of those unspoken things they’d kept hidden, back when the war seemed determined to take everything they loved from them. Shiro took one hand off the pedestals and squeezed her fingers, an acknowledgement. Then he leaned forward.

“There are still a few planets I haven’t been to.”

“Be careful on the gravitational assists. The Castle has its own field.”

Allura could feel Shiro’s grin, even if she couldn’t see it.

“Sounds like a challenge.”

That was her Black Paladin. Her rock and her best friend. Her Shiro. Allura hugged him tight and only laughed when Shiro complained he couldn’t breathe.

By the time they reached the Kepler belt, the tension had leaked out of Shiro’s muscles. He twisted around. “What to take a closer look?”

“Black Lion?” Allura asked.

“Black Lion,” confirmed Shiro.

The Castle might be an incredible feat of engineering, capable of delicate movements that should be impossible for its size, but it had nothing one the agility of a Lion—especially not the way the Black Lion could dance under the direction of Shiro. Together, they soared, darting between frozen clumps of methane and ammonia, going faster—faster—faster! as Allura urged and Shiro laughed in delight until their rumbling stomachs called them home.

(Home, Allura remembered now, had stopped being a place and long since become a person.)

They docked in the Castle and made their way to the kitchen—only to find they weren’t alone.

“Hey, next time give us some warning before we take off, yeah?” said Lance, sprawled out with his feet up on the table.

“I was quite lucky Lance found me before leaving—otherwise I might have been stuck on Earth forever!” said Coran.

“You idiots,” said Keith, stepping forward to shake Shiro. “You thought we wouldn’t want to come with you, didn’t you?”

“Hope you don’t mind I brought my entire family,” said Pidge. “I figured there was room, and they wouldn’t let me leave without them. Also Matt said Shiro required ‘adult supervision.’”

“Hey, he’s only—!” Matt paused and made a face. “How old is Shiro now? Ugh, stupid time dilation.”

“Just because the war is over, doesn’t mean the universe doesn’t still need Voltron,” said Hunk. “There’s still a lot of good we can do, right?”

Shiro looked at Allura, a wry smile on his face. “So maybe we were a little bit dumb.”

Allura finds herself smiling in response. “Maybe a very little bit,” she concedes.

But their family is back together, the war is over, and she’s taking off for adventure again, this time with Shiro’s hand in hers.

From this point forward, Allura knows where she belongs.

#shallura #shalluraweek2020 #mckinlily writes: vld fic #whoops I accidentally added gen #but its still shallura promise

[hiuythn]

sorry to ask, but i saw u shared hc for the sick anon, im going thru a rough patch and ur fic rly cheered me up. Can i get some hcs as well?

this is how keith asks lance to marry him:

so we all know how from the beginning, from the moment things got resolved at the end of tnahp, that keith’s been upfront about never leaving lance. everyone knows he’s going to put a ring on that. he’s said it to lance’s face. “what else am i gonna do with you?”

it’s not until six years later that he actually does anything though. mostly bc of the war and the aftermath.

the team are in a meeting with the coalition, boring stuff, routine stuff, and the mind link is closed, bc sometimes keith and lance need breaks. he’s lucky that it was, though, because what happens next in his mind would’ve been enough to make lance fall out of his seat and ruin the meeting and coran would’ve killed them both lmao

lance is paying attention even though he looks just as bored as keith. diligent, as always. he’s even got a holoscreen projected, taking lazy notes. there are faint little sketches of the coalition members and the team. one is of shiro, snoring, comical Zs above his head. keith bites down on his cheek.

lance is twirling the pen in his left hand.

keith looks at that and thinks, loud and clear, there should be a ring on his finger.

he sits back.

huh.

it should be a surprise, he decides after a quiet minute. lance deserves that. it should be at the right moment, the right words, the right place. it should be soft and genuine and such a sweet shock that it takes lance seconds to reply. it should make his blue eyes fill with tears, it should make him curl into a ball before keith, who’ll still be kneeling, ring box open and laughing at him because wow, that’s nice reaction, lance. it should be a proposal so perfect that it makes lance kind of mad, makes him shove keith, makes him pout that frustrated-loving-happy pout.

(bros, as a gay, this is kind of really fucking gay)

keith spends the rest of the meeting laying out proposal plans. lance gets exasperated when he finds out keith remembers nothing of the meeting. “dude, you--tell me again, who’s the leader of voltron, here?” “it’s allura.” “....okay, but who flies bl--”

and some people might ask, what’s the point, if you’re already levertan-married? if you’ve mind-linked and basically achieved the pinnacle of ‘joining hands in holy matrimony’?

keith’s answer would probably be something like ‘fuck off, i love him that’s why’

(ngl that’s hella romantic. no? just me?)

the long answer is that he knows lance is a romantic. that he really likes gestures of affection, that his face gets all rosy and he always tries to bite back his smiles, and he gets so pleased and flustered and also adorably angry every time keith does anything for him. keith’s in love with that. he goes absolutely dumb over making lance happy, he’s fucking obsessed with it. every neuron in keith’s stupid head is devoted to lance like 24/7.

(it’s a given that lance is the same, if not worse. how tf do they get anything done?)

plus, levertan-married doesn’t really mean the same as human-married.

so keith--somehow--manages to pull off thinking up proposal plans without closing the link, without lance knowing--maybe bc his thoughts are purposefully fragmented like ‘white chocolate? milk?’ or ‘speakers? mic?’ or ‘beach sand feels sandy’ and yes it sounds absolutely dumb but it’s clever because after a while lance tunes it out. though, at the beginning, it really fucking worried him because it sounded like keith was having a stroke LMAO

over the next couple months, keith steadily puts his plan together: get the ring, figure out what to say, speak to allura about detouring to earth for some r&r, speak to shiro about not fucking things up for keith because i know you’ll do that somehow shiro no are you serious of course you would you’re evil do you even remember that time i said no to inviting people for my fourteenth birthday and you did it anyway even though i was looking forward to just playing video games for the whole day??? i had to deal with james griffin in my goddamn house you ass--

the day keith asks, everything--surprisingly--goes really well? like suspiciously so. like keith’s really glad but he’s itching to reach for his knife by the end of it, bc he was prepared for shiro to have done sth by now. 

but nah, keith and lance have a lovely day hanging out, doing activities keith planned and things lance spontaneously suggests. the weather is a perfect breezy, sunny day. when the sun sets they wordlessly head for the beach. lance chases keith though the surf. they throw clumps of wet sand at each other. keith hoists lance in his arms, listening to him yell as keith spins them around. lance picks him up and tosses him into the shallows, that fucking jerk. lance gets keith to forgive him. lance gives keith his shirt, goes half-naked for keith’s shivering form. ‘i’m going to get a cold,’ lance says. ‘and i’m not?’ keith snorts. they walk down the beach and lance tells him stories, pointing to this rock or that spot and saying oh i broke my arm there or dude i saved a baby turtle from a seagull that day and keith soaks it all up like he’s the sand and lance is the ocean waves, coming back to him every time.

lance hops onto a rock, demonstrating to keith how he used to pretend he was a sea prince looking for mermaids. the winds play with his hair, the setting sun brushing golden against his bare chest and the grin on his lips. like this, he’s a foot or two taller than keith.

keith gets down on one knee.

it’s lance’s fault that the ring box is damp, but he’s lucky this thing is olkari-made, because when keith opens it up, the ring shines just as bright as lance. almost as bright. it tries its best but keith really only has eyes for his soulmate.

keith says:

every day, i want to choose you. every day, i want to get to choose you. every day, growing up like i did, was spent learning what i needed to live, what food or drink or mantra was needed to make it another day alone. my body forced to me to focus on its needs, on the bare essentials. if i went a month without a caring touch, it didn’t matter, because it hadn’t killed me yet.

before i fell for you, i don’t think i knew what it meant to want. i never had a chance to think about it, a second to indulge. if i wanted a home, a family, it was a weakness, a distraction, and i couldn’t let myself admit it. so i never learned to want.

the only other thing that comes closest to what i feel for you is probably flying. it’s that addiction to diving through the clouds, it’s free-falling, it’s soaring with my heart in my throat. and even then, even now that i know you, it doesn’t quite compare. it’s a poor substitute.

in this world we exist in, where some force out there knows exactly what we need, who we need, it’s kind of a miracle that i still got to choose you. i’m glad i got the moments where it hurt to think of you, because i wanted you so bad i couldn’t stand not having you. i’m glad i got to slowly realize that you were everything to me, on my own time. it was my own conclusion, my own resolution to love you because you were you, and not because you were someone i was supposed to love. the universe kind of tricked us, but i think she meant well.

and now i know, that even in a world where soulmates didn’t exist....i know i’d still want you.

i want to want you, every day. i want to wake up wanting you, every day, fall asleep wanting you every night. i want to leave for missions wanting you, want to stay behind watching you go, wanting you to return faster than you can. i want you to want me, too. i want a ring on our fingers, reminding me that you do, that you feel the same and you always will.

i want to marry you, lance mcclain.

will you marry me?

#klance #tnahp #tiwlll #fuck what the fuck #what the actual fuck that's so romantic #can someone check my head for me i think keith possessed me #holy god #ummmmm #i don't know how to explain this i've literally never been in love sjdfhksdjf #????????????????? #anon i hope this helps you!!!!! ily 💖💖💖 #ask #my writing #y'all i really think i need an exorcist.... #keith [reaching thru 15 dimensions to wrap his hands around my neck and wring it]: #tell them why i love lance kogane-mcclain!!!!! tell them!!! fuck!! #Anonymous

[sheithfictioncatalogue]

What are some WIPs you’re all looking forward to updates for?

In addition to the in-progress ones from this list we did previously (some are completed now, but still good!), here’s some new ones we look forward to:

Alex:

A Friend Indeed - CGotAnAccount @illunelurks

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 9k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content. Background ships: friends with benefits Matt/Keith

There are a few things Matthew Holt has learned over the past few years of being launched into space, kidnapped, thrust into an intergalactic war, and hailed as a hero of the universe.

Firstly, space is as huge and beautiful as he always knew it was – just twice as terrifying as he could ever have imagined.

Second, his little sister is in fact the smartest human that will ever exist and nothing will ever convince him otherwise.

And lastly, Shiro and Keith will never, ever get their shit together.

Beam me up, Hottie - lasersheith @lasersheith​

ongoing, 7/? chapters, 34k. (Teen)

Shiro’s life is kind of a mess. His job sucks and his best friends are moving across the country back to their hometown. All he really has is Star Trek until the Big Bang pairs him with an artist that just might change everything.

“Do you remember that event I told you about?” His voice came out barely above a whisper.

Laughing again, Matt sat his sandwich down. “You mean your totally-not-porn writing competition?”

Shiro groaned. “It’s not porn,” he hissed out quietly, “and it’s not a competition, it’s just an event.” He said, looking up into Matt’s judgmental eyes. “Look, you own 6 replica anime swords. It’s literally illegal for you to judge me for anything, ” he pointed an accusing finger at Matt’s chest.

Matt held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ok, ok. So what about your event thing?”

Shiro looked back down at his phone with an awed smile. “I got paired with my favorite artist…” He answered wistfully.

don’t call me baby (unless you mean it) - akaiiko @akaiikowrites​

ongoing, 3/? chapters, 36k. (Explicit) Contains: PTSD

Getting with Shiro is worth anything. Anything. So Keith is going to fake being the cliche with daddy issues - complete with stuffed animals, booty shorts, and an utter loss of dignity - until he makes it. Hopefully along the way he’ll figure out why it feels like being Shiro’s baby boy might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Keith has a moment where he wonders, somewhat blankly, how he bought this perfectly serviceable shirt and then promptly forgot its existence. Then he looks down. And remembers in a series of post traumatic flashbacks exactly why he’d blocked the shirt from his consciousness.

Namely, three words, in a font that isn’t comic sans but comes insultingly close to it, garnished with red glitter: Daddy’s Little Boy.

“Keith?” Very slowly, he turns to look at the closed door to his bedroom. “Keith, are you okay? I heard…” Probably some kind of vaguely strangled noise. But Shiro’s too nice to articulate that kind of thing. “Keith? If you don’t answer, I’m coming in.”

For All the Stars in the Sky - allyoop_1 @isabelladeltigre​, Wolfy_P_Smith

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 34k. (Mature)

“They’re good kids.”

They both take a moment to look over at said kids. Pidge has her elbows on the table, butt in the air as she finger smashes on her DS and Matt is picking at a tear in the booth and eating what comes out.

“Well,” Keith says, turning back to Lance. “They’re…kids. Probably human.”

Matt licks at the tear in the seam and Lance grins. “Debatable.”

Or: Keith has two jobs, two kids, and a million problems. Shiro’s not the solution to all of them, but he sure does help.

Make Believe - LittleWhiteTie @littlewhitetie​

ongoing, 5/7 chapters, 18k. (Teen) Contains: PTSD

In which, in order to form an alliance, Keith and Shiro need to fake a relationship and endure a series of related trials.

This was a terrible idea. An excruciating, tantalizing car crash of an idea. Keith should never have agreed to this. It was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He was never going to be able to come back from this.

Careful metal fingertips traced his jaw, tipping his face up to meet gentle, storm grey eyes. He was close, so close. “Everything okay?” Shiro asked, quietly.

“Of course,” Keith said. “Everything is fine.”

It was a bald-faced lie; everything was not fine. It was wonderful and devastating and nowhere in between.

my doorbell, when you gonna ring it? - spectrespecs @exitlude​

ongoing, 2/3 chapters, 35k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

Shiro, a chronic apartment renter, feels like it’s time for him to settle down and buy a house. He thinks so, at least. Keith, one of the finest real estate agents in the city, is the one tasked with finding Shiro a home. They both find a little more than intended.

a slow, dumb show - redluxite (wordstruck)

ongoing, 6/8 chapters, 19k. (Teen)

Shiro shrugs. “No.” His lips quirk in a little half-smile. “Are you going to ask me?”

Keith’s mouth curls, just a little. His eyes flick over to Shiro again.

“Why not?”

Shiro comically stumbles to a halt. “Sorry?”

There’s that amusement tucked in the corner of Keith’s mouth again, as he reaches out a hand to steady the pizzas in Shiro’s arms. They’re quite close together now.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

All Eyes On Us - Green_Destiny @green-destiny

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 32k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

K_Red and BlackLion are camboys for the same website. Unrivaled in their power but rivals to each other, a chance meeting at an official event pulls them inevitably towards each other, as much as Keith would like to resist, gravity is always, always stronger.

the peace-weaver - magisterpavus

ongoing, 18/20 chapters, 203k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content, trans Keith, sexual violence

You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Akira:

every breath you take - arahir @arahir​

ongoing, 5/7 chapters, 32k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

Keith takes a swim, gains a secret admirer, and finds something to live for.

There’s a cut on his bottom lip, a row of tiny lacerations that smart when he pulls at them to get a better look.

He doesn’t notice the bruise on his upper arm until the next day. He catches the edge of it at the corner of his eye when he’s pulling on a fresh shirt: blue lines, like stripes, but when he turns and twists to see how they ring his arm, he realizes what they look like.

The lines are like fingers. It’s a handprint.

sweet sun, send me the moon - arahir @arahir​

ongoing, 2/? chapters, 8k. (General) Contains: graphic depictions of violence, temporary amnesia

Shiro still has one battle left to fight.

Keith’s body in his arms doesn’t twitch and his eyes don’t flicker. They’re open a little, Shiro realizes; dull, sightless slits of white. Not dead, though. He’s not dead. Damaged, yes, but they can fix this.

Kel:

The Alien at Camp Marmora - flukeloops

ongoing, 6/10 chapters, 19k. (Mature)

Shiro and Keith are back at Camp Arus and madly in love. Alfor has to take a week off to tend to personal matters and has left his friend Kolivan in charge. Kolivan presents the staff and campers with Camp Marmora: a grueling 5-day challenge that tests their bodies and maybe even their minds. Will Shiro and Keith’s fairy tale romance stand through it all? What will the challenge reveal about both of them?On top of it all, the longer Shiro stays in human form, the worse his legs hurt. He’s afraid that he and Keith’s worlds will drift too far apart if he has to live in the water.[SEQUEL to The Mermaid of Lake Altea]

Sweet Cherry Pie - keiti221 @starlightshirogane

ongoing, 8/? chapters, 18k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content, abuse, stalking, implied/referenced rape/non-con, kidnapping, murder, threats of violence, threats of rape/non-con, death threats

After Keith shows up to perform at an event that didn’t actually want a male stripper, he spends the evening sipping wine coolers with the hottest detective he’s ever gotten his hands on. Unfortunately, neither of them have been particularly good at relationships - Shiro is always busy with work and Keith keeps attracting weirdos - but both want to make this one work. So what could possibly go wrong?

Shiro the Hero and the Happily Ever - Saasan @decidedlysarah

ongoing, 2/11 chapters, 8k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content, a/b/o dynamics, mpreg

Shiro never thought he’d be able to find a mate, let alone have a family. As blessings keep piling up in his life, he thinks back on the road it took to get there. Keith had always feared mating, but being with Shiro is bliss–if only he’d be just a *little* less weepy-with-joy. Meanwhile, Lance and Pidge discover they will be having a family much sooner than expected. This story will follow the four of them on their path to parenthood and, because the author isn’t a dick (unlike DreamWorks), everyone gets a happily ever after.

See You In Court - arcadenemesis

ongoing, 2/5 chapters, 15k. (Mature)

If Shiro’s life were a movie, this would be the part where the music would swell and everything would slow down.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, just watching, but it’s not until another hotel patron brushes past him that Shiro comes back down to Earth. Thank God Keith hasn’t seen him yet. Meeting eyes from across the room seems romantic in theory, but Shiro’s pretty sure his open staring would be anything but in reality. Better going for a smooth introduction, he decides, steeling himself and walking over with confidence he doesn’t feel.

"Hey there, Wild Card.”

Takashi Shirogane is the best in the world at tennis, and the absolute worst at love.

(Or, Wild Card through Shiro’s eyes.)

#Anonymous #sheith #sheith fanfic #sheith fanfiction #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanfic #fic rec #recs #modfaves

[thefragileblackdahlia]

The Beginning (Prologue)

A/N: I decided to write a fanfiction about an Archangel. There aren’t many fanfictions with angels and I’m sorry it isn't an x reader. Also, I am sorry if my writing isn't the best and that some characters seem OOC. I try, I try

Chapter Summary: Ariel is created and  Lucifer falls.

Character(s): Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Castiel, Gadreel, Ariel

Warnings: Third Person POV, Angst, fluff if you squint hard enough.

Word count: 2,521

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

“Boys, Come to my throne room, I have an important announcement,” God commanded, his voice booming all throughout heaven and the universe.

Lucifer and Gabriel glanced at one another, unsure of what could be so important at this exact moment. Lucifer and Gabriel stood up from their seats in the lounge room, walking past the observation room. The observation room allowed the Archangels as well as God to watch black holes and galaxies. It was deemed “Michael’s thinking space.” In his opinion, it was quiet, undisturbed and all of the colors were extraordinary. Michael stayed seated, watching a comet tear through a cloudburst of gas.

“Hey bro, let’s go. Y’know how he gets when we are late.” Lucifer nudged his brother, pulling him back into reality. Gabriel offered his older brothers a soft smile, before flying to his father’s throne room. Gabriel’s true form was as bright as the sun, his wings golden. He stood proudly in his designated spot, wings unfurled.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

“Hello, Father.”

One by One all of the boys were standing in front of their creator, wings unfurled. God’s white light overshone the boys’, creating a soft blue glow of ambiance. “Hello, Lucifer.” He greeted his favorite with a smile before turning to the others. “Michael, Raphael.” He nodded as he said their names.

“What is wrong father?” Michael asked, genuinely concerned.

A burst of red light flashed through God’s throne room, casting an eerie glow. It hovered in front of his throne before another burst of light came, wings unfurling revealing three sets of big beautiful red wings.

The boys all stared in confusion. Did he seriously create another archangel? Was four not enough? Maybe he wanted something different. Michael’s brows furrowed as he stared into the light but soon his face relaxed as his eyes were met with cold blue ones. Michael white-knuckled his lance, unsure of how he felt about a female archangel. Things would certainly change and he didn’t know if it was for the better or worse.

“Say hello to the Archangel Ariel. She will be your sister. Treat her with respect.” God commanded, and with that, he left to work on his new ‘Project’.

The four stared at the new addition, all wary of her true form. She was small but powerful for certain but soft in her own way. What should they even say? ‘Hey welcome to the family? He’s never around’ No that was stupid. ‘Hey come here often?’ No that was dumb. The tension in the air grew thick before finally, Lucifer cut it.

“Hello, Ariel. Your wings are… uhh, beautiful I am-” Lucifer spoke slowly, his older brother interrupting him. “I am Michael,” He puffed his chest, flapping his strong, white wings while flashing her his grace charged irises. Lucifer rolled his eyes and stepped down from his pedestal, walking slowly toward his new sibling.

“Ignore his flexing, I am Lucifer...” He bowed as he spoke, his wings draping at his sides, mimicking his motions. “He likes to show off. ” He whispered shouted, purposely wanting Michael to hear.

The other boys stayed put on their pedestals, watching their second eldest brother interact with their youngest sibling. They were intrigued but not enough to move, in fear of how she might react to all of them bombarding her with introductions. They let Lucifer take the lead.

“That’s Raphael, He keeps to himself but overall will warm up to you. Don't worry.” He gestured toward the figure with dark gray wings.

“And… that’s Gabriel. He likes to joke around so watch your wings!” Lucifer snickered, casting Michael a side-eye as he remembered the time Gabriel made Michael’s wings purple. He adjusted himself, giving his pale pink wings one good flap before turning to face all his male siblings.

“Michael will show you around, Father needs me,” Lucifer spoke with a deep tone, one with uncertainty. He disappeared with the sound of flapping wings.

“Michael…” She spoke softly, his name rolling off her tongue. The sound of her voice was intoxicating, it reminded Michael of stars being born, the beauty in supernovas. He gazed intently with furrowed brows, anticipating her next words.

The female brought her hand to her chest, “Ariel…” She said with a breathy tone, uncertainty in her tone. She seemed confused, flustered and overwhelmed. She glanced behind her watching as she stretched her red and white wings, flexing. Ariel closed her eyes, blinking hard before opening them again. Her soft, pink, grace charged irises burrowing deep into Michael’s skull.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Several billion years later, Ariel laid in the garden, watching as the clouds passed by. ‘Ariel’ A gruff voice echoed in her head, someone must be praying. ‘Ariel, come home.’ His words were spoken with urgency, meaning something horrible was happening. “Castiel…” She prayed, acknowledging his prayer whilst bringing herself to her feet.

Ariel avoided heaven as much as she could, trying to avoid her brothers arguing, the hate and jealousy, it was too much for her. When she could, she came to earth tending to the dying trees and flowers, watching the animals that were until she was needed.

When Castiel was created, her view changed. He was more awkward than other angels but was tough when needed to be. He was feared, respected, a soldier but he also held a tiny bit of compassion in him. When life first came into being, the gray fish heaving itself up on the beach, she stood next to him, him occasionally glancing at her

with a warm smile.

With a strong flap of her wings, she appeared next to her younger brother, observing what has unraveled in front of them. All of the angels stood in rows, by rank. The Archangels, Seraphim then soldier angels and so on. Ariel took her place beside her three brothers, specifically next to Lucifer. Her wings twitched as she watched Michael take ahold of Gadreel, the gatekeeper of The Garden.

“Gadreel?” Ariel spoke with soft tenderness, concern laced in her voice. “Brother, why are you arresting him? What has he done? Nothing. Let him be.” She snapped at her eldest brother, cutting in front of him. She glanced at Gadreel with weary eyes, trying to read his eyes but they were full of guilt.

Ariel slowly stepped back as she saw the wrath in Michael’s eyes, bringing her hand to her chest. Of course, she was furious also, but Michael was older, stronger.

“Step aside, little one.” Michael sneered, trying his best to not knock her aside as he rushed past her with a weakened Gadreel.

Gadreel kept his eyes on the ground as he couldn’t look at her, the Guardian Angel of Nature in the eyes. He shouldn’t have trusted Lucifer, not after the last fight Lucifer and Michael had, but his words were so convincing.

Michael made his way in front of God’s throne, awaiting his orders.

“Gadreel,” God spoke, his voice boomed all throughout heaven, fear arising in all of the angels.

“You have failed your duties in Guarding the Garden of Eden. You defied my direct orders in not only letting one Archangel sneak in but two! One of the two Angels have not harmed my creation but the other… I have no choice but to imprison you for the rest of eternity for your…mistake as you’d like to call it.” God spoke with hate laced in his voice, it wasn’t at all subtle.

Michael grabbed Gadreel by his throat before dragging him off to prison. But that was just the beginning of everything. All the Angels stood before their creator, shaken to their core at his wrath.

Ariel looked at the scene before her with wide eyes, her wings close to her back. She knew what was next, she had to face punishment.

Michael returned, standing next to the Creator’s throne with his lance in hand. He gripped the wood tight, his eyes fixed on his little sister and younger brother.

“Ariel, Lucifer!” God shouted, causing Ariel to flinch at her name. She glanced up at her older brother, fear painting her face. Lucifer slightly glanced at his little sister, watching her freeze with fear. It wasn’t like Ariel to freeze, she was a fearsome warrior, a vengeful guardian angel that could smite anyone with a thought. Lucifer felt sorry for her, she wasn’t the one in trouble, he was.

His fingers softly brushed against hers, gaining her attention. Ariel quickly intertwined their fingers, tightly holding onto her elder brother. Together, they walked forward and stood before the Lord.

“Ariel, do not touch him. I will not allow him to corrupt anything else.” God glared at their hands. His once most favorited son is now his most despised. “NOW.” He commanded and with a wave of his hand, he sent Lucifer crashing to the ground.

“How dare you? How dare you stand before me, holding hands with your sister as if you hold any compassion? You were to love my creation…” God stared at the floor, troubled.

“Ariel, next time I command, listen. Come stand next to Michael and your brothers.” He spoke.

Lucifer pleaded, looking up at his father with wide eyes, “"Father, I can't. These human beings are flawed. Murderous!" he bellowed, looking over to his sister for assistance. “Ariel, Little one, Join me, please. Tell father how flawed they are, they murder, rape, pillage. They do not deserve such love!” He gripped Ariel’s satin dress, preventing her from leaving his side.

Michael took a step forward with his hand out before he stopped himself from continuing any further. He furrowed his eyebrows, guilt written on his face. His wings were tight against his back as he heard his brother plead. What Lucifer said was true, but father’s rules came before everything else...even family.

“Micah! Tell him, Join me! Stand by my side. Brother!” Lucifer shouted, pulling him out of his shaken state. Michael’s eyes met his little brother’s. He didn’t want to watch any further, he couldn’t. He closed his eyes, blinking hard before opening them again.

Gabriel stood beside Raphael, his eyes filled with sadness. A brother he once loved now corrupted. He closed his eyes as he couldn’t watch any longer. Raphael stood on the left side of the throne, face stoic.

“Enough!” God shouted, waving his hand once more, sending his son flying towards the opposite end of the room. He snapped his fingers, Ariel appearing beside Michael and before anything else could happen she took Michael’s hand in hers.

“You rebel against me, grow jealous of my creation. You leave me no choice, Lucifer. You will be cast out of heaven.” God commanded, standing up from his throne and making his way towards the center of the mass room. He snapped his fingers a swirling hole appearing in the white tile, growing in size.

Gusts of wind blew past Ariel’s face, sending her dress flapping in the wind. She furrowed her brows, tears forming in her eyes.

“Luci…” She prayed silently, pleading for him to listen. “Luci, I love you…” She closed her eyes as she prayed, gripping Michael’s hand tighter.

Lucifer looked up to see her holding hands with Michael but praying to him. A smile crept across his face as he heard her say I love you. He stood proudly, knowing what was bound to happen now. He kept the smile on his face as he walked toward his father, proud to show the other Angels the man they are worshipping. Someone who would cast out their own son because he couldn’t worship and serve puny hairless apes.

“Let this be an example of what could happen to you…” God spoke slowly as he made his way to his throne. “Michael, cast him out.” He commanded.

Ariel’s eyes shot open at his words. “No…” She whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not Michael…that is not right, Father please be reasonable-” Her words were cut off, her voice gone. She looked up at her father, his hand in a fist.

Silently, Michael prayed to her, ‘It will be alright.’ He let go of her hand, making his way to his fallen brother. Michael with his lance swirled it in his hands before aiming it at his young brother. He lunged at Lucifer, not to hurt him but to put fear into him and so he did.

Lucifer slowly walked around his brother, making his way to the giant whirlpool of darkness. “Remember me..” He muttered, looking at Ariel then at his father. He sneered as he turned to face his ‘brother’.

Michael raised his hand, the sky opening up to reveal a bright, white light. “I, Archangel Michael, on behalf of the Lord...cast the Archangel Lucifer out of heaven!” He immediately brought his hand down, smiting his brother and sending him careening down the hole.

“Lucifer has fallen!” He bellowed, his voice cracking as he said his brother’s name.

After Lucifer’s fall, things changed.

Soon after Lucifer’s fall, horrible things followed. The corruption of man.

She stood with Castiel when the Tower of Babel fell, Cain & Abel, Sodom, and Gomorrah, Demons, Lilith, Knights of Hell. God had no choice but to create The Cage with over 600 seals.

Millions of years later, Gabriel had disappeared, he went to earth one day and then vanished. That left Ariel alone with a now hardened Michael and a power-driven Raphael.

Then after Gabriel, God left. He claimed that heaven had the three of them to command the host, that they didn’t need him. He was wrong.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

There was a prophecy written eons ago. A tale of two boys, two vessels who would start the apocalypse and bring on the end of God’s creation. Most angels were trying to prevent the end, but others like the Seraphim Zachariah, they wanted the world to end. Ariel would be sent down to hell, along with Castiel to save Dean Winchester and stop the apocalypse.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x ofc #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn #spnfamliy #supernatural archangel #sam and dean #sam winchester #castiel

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Hello. I'm Dasha from ao3. As you say, you opened reguests, so i ask a Lion King (first and second cartoons) for Lotor's movies might. Thank you.

Movie Time With TSL Lotor: The Lion King I (1994) and II (1998)Edition

“And this,” Lotor was saying, leaning his elbows against thepillow in his lap, “is another Disney movie, yes?”

Pidge sat on the floor beside the couch, flanked by both Hunkand Lance. “Yep.” The image of the movie’s cover flashed onto the main screen,revealing an image of a hand-drawn lion and the title The Lion King.

Lotor’s white brow quirked. “Strange,” he murmured. “Are youcertain we did not already watch this? What was that children’s programming youintroduced me to earlier…” He snapped his fingers a few times to jog hismemory. “The White Lion, with Kimba.”

“A separate cartoon, but uh, yeah. Lions, man.” Hunk laughednervously. “They’re everywhere.”

Lotor hummed. “I am beginning to think so as well.” Heleaned his cheek in his hand curiously, narrowing his eyes. “Regardless, knowingthat this is Disney, I can assume with a particular level of certainty that theprotagonist is a young one whose parent or parents are in a tragedy of sorts. Thestory will undoubtably pull my heartstrings in some way, regale me with song,and then round back to a message of hope or self-discovery. Does that aboutcover it?”

The three young paladins paused and looked at each other.Lance scratched his chin and said, “Yeah, that’s about right. Way to spoil it,dude.”

The prince shrugged in a light humor. “I enjoy sensiblepatterns.”

But as the movie began, an inspiring call of song rosethroughout the hall. Lotor’s brows raised in interest of the sound, which wasdifferent from the other music he had so far heard from the planet Earth.

Pidge then turned to Lance and whispered, “Ten bucks saysAllura’s gonna fly through that door any second.”

Lotor’s ear flicked, caught between listening to the wondrousmusic and the paladins’ whispering.

Lance whispered back, “I’m so not taking that bet. She’sprobably already in the hall. I give her like, five seconds.”

“I give her three.”

Just then, Allura slammed open the door, eyes wide in a franticexcitement. “Lions!” she called. “Oh, this is The Lion King, how dare you all watch something about lions withoutme. Honestly, the nerve. You know I love lions.”

All four sets of eyes stared up at her—with Lotor’s beingthe widest.

Allura swept in, her regal dress and perfectly set curlsflaring behind her. And then she, with an upmost lack of regality, flopped ontothe couch opposite Lotor. She dared to stretch her slippered feet out, to theprince’s surprise. He stared down in shock, face flushing, as he realized thatshe had propped her feet right into his lap as if such things were perfectly ordinary.

“I…was sittinghere, princess,” he strangled out lightly.

The tips of her slippers wiggled in excitement, the goldthreads catching the light upon the pillow. “And now I am too. I cannot say noto The Lion King.”

Lotor swallowed hard as he gazed upon her excited face.

Hunk broke his maddening race to think of something to say.

“You’ve seen this, like, four times,” Hunk called to Allura.“So we kinda figured maybe you’d be bored or something.”

The princess gasped, raising a hand to her chest. “Never.This movie is precious. And it has talking lions.  I could not ask for more.”

Lotor hesitantly leaned his arms over Allura’s calves insearch of a comfortable position. He had seen the paladins flop over oneanother often—with Pidge falling asleep on top of Lance, Hunk leaning his headagainst Keith’s shoulder, and even Shiro dog-piling on top of them all once in thename of claiming the couch. Such actions were, Lotor believed, signs of deepcamaraderie.

He wondered if Allura’s candid movements were a sign ofincreased trust. He felt a rising sun in his chest at the thought, and theglimmer of stars bursting in his lungs when she did not move away but wiggled abit in all her finery to get comfortable for the rest of the movie.

He could feel her warmth through the fabric of theirclothes.

“If you all must know,” she declared airily, “Nala is my favoritecharacter.”

Lance deadpanned, voice light, “Would have never guessed.”

“Oh, hush, you. Your favorite characters are the laughinghyenas.”

“Hey, those hyenas are legit,alright?”

Lotor’s lips twitched, knowing at a certain point that thepaladins were growing careless in their discussions of spoilers.

——

As the movie progressed, Lotor’s merry smile turned to a suspended,thoughtful expression. The character of Simba was such a curious thing. Like him.But not like him.

The relationship he had with his father was something thatLotor almost felt envious of.

“You are more thanwhat you have become,” said the cosmic Mufasa. “You must take your place in the circle of life.”

Simba returned helplessly, “How can I go back? I’m not who I used to be.”

“Remember who you are.You are my son, and the one true king.”

Lotor felt chills down his body in an odd way, and for a time,he completely disengaged from the movie at the statement.

You are my son, andthe one true king.

He looked down at his emaciated hands. Despite eating enoughfor three people, he was still struggling to regain who he had once been. Helooked up.

“Going back means I’llhave to face my past,” Simba was saying to Rafiki on the screen.

“You can either runfrom it, or learn from it.” And then the baboon took a swipe at Simba withhis staff, and the young lion avoided the strike.

Lotor’s eyes widened in surprise, his previous thoughts fading to the back of his mind. “Ah, I know this tactic.How familiar and strange to see it here. Friends, this is the Galran way of the palen-bol.Learning from pain so that you may avoid it.“

Hunk’s eyes slid to his.  “Ah, yeah, I’ve heard about palen-bol.Interesting stuff.” He laughed nervously.

The prince raised his chin in a quiet delight, to seehimself—somehow, a merrier version of his own people—in the movie.

—-

As it turned out, one movie about lions merged into two, the story continuing with Simba ruling over Pride Rock. Lotor was leaningforward now, brows furrowed in increased interest. So far, he had never seen asequel to a movie. He had not known that humans continued their stories onoccasion.

Now that Simba had ascended and claimed the throne of hisfather, what else was there to his story?

And then, after a short time, Lotor’s furrowed brows relaxed. “Ah, I see wherethe plot is going. This is a romance, with a forbidden element per Scar beingoutcast in the first movie.”

Lance waved his hand. “Romeo and Juliet style, with a lil’lion razzle dazzle thrown in for fun.”

Pidge cut in then. “Except they don’t die in the end.”

Hunk waved his hand and deadpanned, “I mean, nobody’s that heartless with a kid’s show, right? You can totally tell this is going somewhere good.” 

Lotor leaned forward, lightly squishing against Allura’slegs as he grabbed for one of the rolls Hunk had so kindly grabbed from thekitchen. The princess herself had fallen asleep at some point toward the end ofthe first movie—her acts of diplomacy across the Coaltion often exhausted her—andshe grumped lightly at his movements.

Lotor stilled for a moment before hooking his claws into aroll, carefully leaning back. “At least,” he murmured, “a benefit of spoilersis knowing what I’m getting into. I can feel the themes of prejudice in thisstory. I should hate for it to end poorly.”

It was around then that Keith walked in, somewhat dead-eyedfrom a nap. He took one look at the movie screen and groaned. “Seriously, guys?This movie again?”

Lance raised his nose. “It’s a totally valid movie, Keef.”

“It’s so cliché,” the older boy moaned. “Just a dumbromance.” He turned to Lotor and added, “Seriously, if you ever wanna watchreal movies again, just—”  

Lotor lightly set his roll aside and leaned down to clap hishands over Pidge’s ears. “—Best not to speak such criticism before the children,”he called merrily. “They are impressionable.” Pidge squawked. The movements wokeup a bleary-eyed Princess Allura, who found herself staring at the side-profileof a Lotor who was smiling without reservation, his lips wide.  

The princess blinked several times at the image.

Her heart skipped, the sleep wearing away from her as sherealized that Lotor had her feet quite pinned between his lap and his chest.

Lotor seemed to sense her waking state. “Apologies, princess,”he murmured to her, still holding his hands strong to Pidge’s ears while Keithcomplained about the movie. “I believe we are all engaging in…play of somekind.”

Allura rubbed her eyes and giggled a bit. “It sounds likeit.” Her sleep-rough voice softened. “It is such a merry sound, though.”

And on the screen, one Kiara and Kovu stared at each otherin close proximity, awkwardly brushing off their increasing attraction.

Lotor turned to her, a quizzical arch in his brow despitehis merriment. “You would speak so highly of our chaos?”

“Always,” she said softly. And then she teasingly poked her slipperedtoe against his side.  

The prince’s eyes widened as a noise escaped him. For a second,he grew very still. Then he slipped his hands away from Pidge’s ears to graspfor Allura’s foot. “Princess,” he said, voice strained. “You should know I amticklish.”

“I’m not sure you should admit to that around here,” shesaid merrily, still a bit sleepy in her eyes with a lazy smile stretching herfull lips.

He could not help himself.

Without warning, he ran his finger up the flat of her foot.

She squealed, eyes widening as she jerked her feet closer toher, her skirts slipping up her calves. “Oh, what a dirty trick!”

“On the contrary,” he said lightly. “Now I know you areticklish as well.”

Allura forced herself to sit up, her face flushing brightlyas she hid her feet well beneath the long length of her skirts, giving him adirty glare. “Well. At least I know we are evenly matched.”

A glimmer of a smile danced in his eyes. “For all ourdifferences, princess, I fear I must agree with you.”

And back on the floor, Hunk whispered to Pidge and Lance,jerking his thumb up, “You guys getting Kiara and Kovu vibes from these two orwhat.”

“Oh, man. Totally.”

“Not even a question.” Pidge rubbed her ear where Lotor hadlightly muffled her hearing with his hands. “But I worry about what that makesus.”

#Movie Time With TSL Lotor #Lotor #Allura #Lotura #Pidge #Hunk #Lance #Keith #Thanks for the request Dasha! #I hope you enjoy it! #this ended up a bit happier than I thought it would haha #it's hard to get the paladins to just watch a movie #i had fun writing this though #After so many movies Lotor must be feeling more at home with the paladins #my writings

[pepplemint]

Fanfic Recc:s

I had this since a long time back actually, I think. I figured I might as well post it and give ya’ll something lol.

  —————————-——————-———GEN——————————-——————-———-

Room with a View by isabeau25 (10,089 words): Lance manages to carve out a space for himself in a hidden part of the castle. The rest of the team find their way there eventually. ———- This was one of those fics I didn’t really expect to get as into as I did. Is really sweet and focus on the original team as a family. You know how you sometimes see art where everyone in a giant cuddlepile and it’s just too sweet and everyone is so comfortable with each other? This have got the same feeling, plus some Langst

————————————————-  Accepting Amelioration by XILVerify (4887 words): Shiro trusts his team with his life, but after what he and his daemon experienced at the hands of the Galra… well, trusting them with his soul is the one thing he just can’t bring himself to do. Or so he thinks. Daemon AU. Post season 1 speculation.  ———- Shiro and Hunk is a pair that have gotten very little bonding time in canon, so seeing them together here put in a situation where they are trapped in a distressing urgent situation is both interesting and engaging. I don’t know much about His Dark Materials or daemons to be honest but it’s explained well enough within the fic and I enjoy these representations very much. WARNING: Mentioned previous-to-fic assault

————————————————- The Purity of Sin by IcyPanther (105,002 words): Lance's first diplomatic mission had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Instead of allies on planet Macka, he and Keith found only enemies who want to sacrifice them to their Goddess. The two Paladins are going to have to work together to survive the harsh desert, severe injury, relentless pursuit, with the added problem that in addition to losing copious amounts of blood, Lance is losing his senses one... by one... by one... ———- I’m sure most people have heard of this fic already but god damn it is INTENSE. You will feel stuff. I am terrible at keeping attention and tend to stay away a bit from longer fics but I couldn’t stop reading. WARNING: Explicit violence, religious rituals, character death

————————————————- Bury the Sun by maychorian (26,734 words): Sam Holt has been a captive of the Galra for more than a year. He has lost all hope of escape or rescue. But when a new prisoner arrives in his underground cell, a boy who seems to carry the sun in his smile, everything begins to change. ———-    An unexpected pair as Pidge’s dad kinda takes Lance too under his wings. This is really sweet at the same time as you can never forget the terrible situation they are really in. WARNING: Violence and mentions of torture

————————————————- I'll Be Your Journal by BreakTheDawn (5756 words): “Lance,” Hunk had pleaded. “I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Lance covered his face as his breaths started to become heavy and uneven. Looking back, Hunk doesn’t know how he knew, but he did. He knew at that point that if he didn’t fix that. Didn’t fix Lance. Then he would lose him. Hunk could not let that happen

....

Or, that one time that Hunk crossed the line. ———-  I just love Hunk and I love seeing his perspective. Also Hunk and Lance friendship... There’s too little of it in the world honestly.

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The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther (9596 words): "The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire," the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. "And as such you have no use except as arena fodder." He chuckled. "Give us a good show before you die." / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it's not quite that literal of a promise. ———- I’m starting to see a pattern here uuuh anyway I love this fic, I love Pidge and Lance working together. WARNING: Violence, Character Death

————————————————-

A Little Unsteady (Hold Onto Me) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (13,385 words): Takashi Shirogane is nine years old when he holds his brother for the first time. “I’m here,” he’d whispered to his fussing baby brother, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”  And Keith stopped crying. He didn’t laugh; he looked up at Shiro with big, skeptical eyes. A challenge. Like this tiny person was saying ‘oh yeah, prove it’. And Shiro, newly nine years old, promised that he’d prove it.Shiro and Keith's childhood in moments. ———- There’s a lot of Keith’s background story here that I fell really strongly for (though not canon compliant, I just like it.). If you’ve ever had that kind of relationship where you are like an older sibling figure, you can really feel this in your bones. WARNING: Child Abuse

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Leave Them Stunned and Stuttering by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) (10,527 words): Five Times Shiro couldn't be knocked off balance, one time he was, and one time he trusted the team to see. Or, when sibling bonding goes wrong. ———- A little bit Everyone/Shiro. It’s fun to see the team all bond over trying to mess with Shiro.

———————————————— Fatalistic Daydream by Engineer104 (27,873 words):  Being a low-ranking Galra soldier stationed in a virtual backwater isn’t stopping Pidge from finding out what happened to her family. But the secrets she’s keeping from her friend Keith on top of the unwanted attention of an Altean prisoner-of-war are definitely...slowing her down. ———- Interesting AU where the Galra and Alteans are actively at war. Technically this is tagged as Pidge/Lance but there isn’t anything actually romantic so I feel it fits the gen category.

——————-——————-——-—--—--SHANCE———————————-——————-—-

Racing on the Thunder by Jennypen (5435 words): Freshman Shiro is pretty hung up on Senior Lance at the Garrison, but no-one else shares his opinion. At least, not until a hostage situation changes everything. ———-   I love this!! Baby Cadet Shiro (who are not so baby-looking) pining after the older Cadet Lance, and Lance is a BAMF.

————————————————- Closer to Your World by CastleSL (29,576 words): Students will be carefully selected and tested for the opportunity to fly out to Kerberos for scientific research. Only one student may be selected. Application and Testing will commence during the third trimester, June 21XX. There was more on the page, statistics and requirements and more details, but it was legit. The flyer was printed on standard Garrison announcement paper, the document signed by the Dean and board of directors. The chance to go to Kerberos. Hunk took a moment to think, then clapped his hand on Lance’s back, smiling. “Well, I’m rooting for ya, buddy.” He said, and Lance beamed like that was all he needed in the world. ———-   It’s been a while since I read this fic but it’s nice with a lil longer Shance fic - it’s also really well written. A sequel is also being written right now that is also good. WARNING: Mentioned character death

————————————————- 

Full Moons and the Mornings After by Impetus (6496 words): Shiro is an unlucky werewolf who can’t control himself during the full moon. Lance really needs to stop letting stray wolves into his apartment. ———-   This is like my favourite werewolf fic ever hahahaha. I love when werewolves are portrayed as big dumb dogs. It’s really cute and they’re both big pining messes.

————————————————-  Jaded by Impetus (8728 words): Shiro is the leader of Voltron. He is the strength and the calm in the face of the thundering storm of the Galra. Lance is someone Shiro doesn't quite understand. Shiro is someone Lance wants to understand with all of his heart. ———-   WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- The Luxury of Lacking Confidence by oldmythologies (13,695 words): They knew how it worked; Lance was always the damsel in distress and Shiro was the big strong hero who came to save him. When Shiro’s lion is hit by a vicious attack, he is knocked off course and careens into an ice planet. Lance finally elects himself the hero and has to save Shiro from his own injuries and the Galra ships searching the planet. Shiro, feverish and low on blood, is forced to confront his demons; Lance has to learn how to fight them off. ———-    WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- Tris for Guys by quiddative  (2907 words): It was all Keith’s fault—him and his stupid biceps showing up at intramural basketball two nights ago without his trademark cropped jacket (which was almost as outdated as his mullet) and making everyone swoon. And what was worse, even Shiro, their hotter-than-hell yet sweeter-than-sugar RA and current object of Lance’s helpless affections, seemed impressed. He actually went up to Keith after his team had pummeled everyone else into the ground, clapped him on the back, and uttered the words that Lance had been daydreaming about for approximately fifteen thousand years: “Great job, buddy!” So, as soon as he got back to his room that night, he logged into his student account and signed up for the first available complimentary personal training session the college’s gym offered. ———- The story of how Lance thirsts so hard he even makes the ultimate sacrifice and goes to the gym. Lance’s “voice” here is great.

————————————————-  Slowly, Surely by needchocolatenow (2997 words): Shiro is tasked with an assignment to deliver important cargo to Altea. Lance is his second. -- Or, the fic in which Shiro and Lance take a road trip through space in an unfortunately named shuttle. ———- Just a really cute story where humans have moved into space and Shiro pines and is as awkward as a kid with his first crush.

————————————————-  ordinary people are everywhere by lein (5625 words): The note, situated in the bottom right corner, reads simply: ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes or yes.’ Surrounded by little hearts and unaddressed, it seems a little out of place nestled next to the carefully crafted drawings of both pigeon lance and the deviantart stamp Pidge sent to Keith that made him cry for upwards of an hour before he had wordlessly crawled atop the table to recreate it as closely as he could. Shiro grins as he picks up a black dry erase marker and circles a yes. ———- This fic is so underrated! It’s super cute and I fell in love already at the summary, but the fic in itself is really well written and nice.

————————————————- Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster by Eilera (2035 words): “This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s gorgeous.” “Oh no. No. Lance do-“ Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door.

(In which Lance is helping his mama with an insurance claim and he was not prepared for the smoking hot insurance adjuster.)

———- Lance is Lance and this was funny and cute.

————————————————-  Left Side Or Right? by liddie (2698 words): When Lance accidentally locks himself out of his dorm room he finds himself on Shiro's doorstep hoping that this falls under Shiro's offer of  "Let me know if you need help with anything."

Luckily for him, it does. ———- Piiiining I love it...... I really do

————————————————-  Lactose IntolerLance by humblenoodle (1807 words): Shiro's aware, at least, that his current course of action is humiliatingly stupid, and he should really stop while he's still ahead.

But it’s not like he could just casually waltz up there and ask for Lance’s number, maybe even a date. That’s not how this worked. ———- 

This was really funny and cute, pining Shiro at his most awkward.

————————————————- Define Dancing by starbear (5495 words): “Dancing?” Shiro made a small, scoffing little laugh. “You’re kidding, right? “What? No,” Lance said, “Why?” “I can’t dance.” “Lies.” “No, I’m serious,” Shiro said, “Two left feet. I’m terrible.” “That I absolutely do not believe. I bet you’ve just never really tried.” Lance stood, abruptly, an unsettlingly determined look on his face. “C’mon, let’s do it.” “Do...what?” “Dance, duh,” Lance said. “Let’s go.”

Shiro learns how to dance, and falls in love along the way. ———-  I tend to like fics that are snippets through time, but this one stand out :)

————————————————- Ten Days by WashiPuppy (??? words): Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn't sure he could get back.

Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered.

Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn't made it ten days.

———- So you like slow burn? Well what about the characters doesn’t even interact for three thirds of the fic lmao. Honestly though this fic is really good and well written! The focus isn’t on romance at all and I even forgot about it a couple of times, but none the less it’s 100% worth the read.

————————————————-  Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55 (153,825 words): Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

———- I mean I assume most people have already read this fic but just in case someone missed it? Read it. This is the Lance as Black Paladin au you always wanted.

————————————————-

Breaking Wind by AshesTheTerrible (10,044 words): Shiro is settling into his new body and finally trusting himself to rekindle things with Lance. Intimacy proves to be a lot of stumbling after such a long time without. And nobody is safe from awkward bodily functions during sex, not even Shiro. ———- Like the mature dumbass I am I love this fic about farting. It’s really well written and have such a good, soft relationship though it’s worth it ok.  WARNING: Explicit

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ticket to ride by mettaverse (2085 words): The officer raises his hand. “You were going thirty miles over the speed limit for a date?” Lance opens his mouth and the officer lowers his sunglasses just to glare at him. “Sixty in a thirty lane. You know how fast that is?” “Um. Fast? Pretty fast?” “Dangerously fast.” He pulls a pad of paper out of his pocket. “I'm gonna have to give you a ticket.” ———-  Short AU-fic that I just find really cute

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How to Dig Your Own Grave by flyingisland (8804 words): The complete anthology, written from first-hand experiences and mortifying, soul-crushing interactions between Lance McClain and one very attractive neighbor. ———- This fic is kinda wonderful. Lance mess up so bad over and over and it’s hilarious. It’s all fine though in the end ;)  WARNING: Explicit, Sex Work (Pornography)

————————————————-

easier to lose by quiddative (???? words): Shiro is at the peak of his NHL career. Unfortunately, being famous has its downsides, particularly when it comes to dating. And that’s on top of the fact that he’s still in the closet.

However, a chance meeting with college student Lance, who seems to be the only person in the entire city who doesn’t know who he is, gives him hope that maybe he won’t die alone after all. Just as long as he can keep his identity a secret. ———- This fic isn’t actually finished when I add it here, but I expect it to be soon. I kinda love sport-AU’s not gonna lie. This one hit me right in the weak spot.

———————-——————-—-—--—--KLANCE————————-——————-————-

Five Minutes by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot (4176 words): When Keith is unwillingly tricked into a speed dating session by Shiro, he finds himself meeting several unusual characters. The most unusual of all, however, is the loud one in the letterman jacket. He's obnoxious and has no regard for the other people around him and he keeps making his way closer and closer to Keith within the ring rotations. Can Keith pull himself together to get through this meeting? Or will he find himself interested by the end of their five minutes? ———-   I like Keith being stubbornly set on being bitter and hating things he’s dragged into lol. Even when he kinda really doesn’t.

————————————————- gladly break my heart (for you) by godsensei (1747 words): “You want me to... touch you?” Lance asks, a mildly dubious look on his face. Keith feels his face go hot. “Yes! You touch everyone else. I just-- we’re boyfriends, right?” he asks, feeling stupid, but so hopeful. Lance searches his face for a moment, before his eyes soften, a sweet smile blooming on his lips. ———-   This is just fluff and touch starved Keith and I’m all for it. ————————————————- i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem (11,610 words): “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?” They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?” ———-   I drew a scene from this fic so I guess in a way I’ve already recc:d it, but I’m gonna do it again. I love awkward misunderstandings and Lance’s rambling in this fic is both kinda hilariously in character and well written. WARNING: Canon-typical violence ————————————————- Keith's Type by AmbitiousSkychild (24,050 words): “How would anyone notice what anyone else’s type is in the middle of all this?!” Matt demanded, laughing. “What’s Keith’s type?” Lance blurted out like an idiot. “It’s… obvious,” Pidge said. “He gets all flustered over shitty puns and most physical comedy. And have you seen the way he stares at Hunk when he’s going on about the mechanics of something? Like how the lions work? I’ve literally seen him blushing when Hunk goes into explanation mode.” “So, you think he has a crush on Hunk?” Lance squawked. “No. You bonehead,” Pidge laughed. “I’m saying any dad-joke-telling, klutzoid with good grades has probably got a pretty good shot at Keith.” Or: It figures that after years of getting it hilariously wrong face-to-face, Lance finally gets good at talking to Keith through a screen, which is, like, one of his biggest accomplishments. Then, Pidge makes the comment that Keith has a type, while heavily implying that it's Matt. But, listen, with everything going on with Voltron, the coalition, the Blade of Marmora, and Coran, Lance isn't going to get distracted worrying about it. Ask anyone, he's always been great with measuring levels of importance.... ———-   I kinda have a weakness for the emotional jealousy, the one that isn’t angry and hot but insecure and hits where it hurts. And yeah. Matt and Keith have (kind of?) a past together and Lance is alone-ish after Keith left the team. ————————————————- King and Reaper by PastelClark (35,512 words): Allura had told them once that Voltron was their destiny. If anything, Keith thinks, Lance had proven that while finding the lions might have been on the dime of some greater plan, compliance to their supposed fate was not strictly required in any remote sense of the word. In fact, by Lance's standard of doing things it was all rather bullshit. (Or: The story of the destruction of Earth and its aftermath, feat. questionable science in regards to weapons of mass destruction, gratuitous Star Wars references, theoretical chess games with the emperor of most of the known universe, explosions, the greatest bromance of all time, the worst romance of all time, far too many guns, concussions, extreme misuse of the French language, awkward flirting, and Lance in an overly-dramatic trench coat.) ———-   BAMF rebel leader Lance and mental images that kinda kick you in the inspiration, honestly. Everyone is older and different. Voltron kinda failed.

————————————————- Keith the Amnesiac by jilliancares (8878 words): In which an accident leaves Keith temporarily without his Voltron-filled memories and he may or may not spill a few of his better kept secrets to Lance. ———-   This story is great if nothing else because it feels so realistic in how it handled Keith’s amnesia. This is very much just what it’s like to have those small differences in how you perceive the world vs how you normally do.

————————————————-

Let's be (dis)honest by noero (1581 words): Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him — down on his knees — calling Lance’s bluff.  ———-   Nothing really to say about this other than I liked the competitiveness between Keith and Lance and it was fun. WARNING: EXPLICIT

——-—--—--——————-——————-OTHERS——————-——————-——————-

Sun In Our Eyes by MatchaMochi (9349 words): “Think you can beat me hotshot?” He doesn’t falter, just nods and holds up his sniper. His hands don’t shake, his lips don’t tremble, (his heart though, that wild erratic thing stuttering in his chest, makes the blood rush to his ears, makes him think: Oh god.) ///

In which Kinkade pines and Lance has too many feelings. ———- 

So this is THE Kinkance fic, but just in case someone didn’t read it yet - I’m gonna add it here. (RYAN/LANCE)

———————————————— i'm willing to wait for it, i'm willing to wait for you by ThePackWantstheD (10,338 words): Lance McClain is hard to hate. He’s easy to love. Or: James Griffin falls fast and hard for a charismatic cargo pilot, dates him for six months, and then waits for him for five years.

———-

This ship isn’t something I ever considered until this fic, but heck it got me on board. I like everyone’s reactions and James’ belief. (JAMES/LANCE)

————————————————

no need to say goodbye by smolsarcasticraspberry  (13,557 words): The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura. They do not speak the same language, but children do not need words to play. Every seven years, when the gateway opens again, Shiro steps through to visit the girl he knows on the other side. But the gateway only stays open as long as the juniberry flowers bloom... 

———- This is one of those stories that are simply wonderful, even if you’ve never seen the original show because it build up such a cool new world in the relatively few words. It also deals with Shiro in the aftermath of war and pining. (SHALLURA)

————————————————

Drip Like Honey by avoidingavoidance (7171 words): In which Romelle recommends a hot Tumblr boy to Allura, but when she checks him and his stream out, she finds that he seems awfully familiar.

———- Obviously this is right up my alley. Da-mn. Allura is top as heck. WARNING: Explicit (SHALLURA)

———————————————— Frostbite by Rueitae (6109 words):  Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training. During their latest encounter, Lance pushes his powers to their limit and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

———-  I doooo love superhero AU’s and this is both super sweet, funny, well written and paints a clear picture of the universe which we are thrown into. I like it a lot. (PLANCE)

#shance #klance #fanfic recs #voltron fanfic recs #fanfics #i need many tags so i can find shit again #There's gen and shallura and others too #mainly gen shance and klance though

[junkyardlynx]

Pt. 12

The pale sun bled through rusted holes in the sheet metal, luminous shafts of light falling into the somewhat dilapidated building. I awoke slowly, my body sore and drained. It took me a minute to register the softness and warmth pressed firmly against my cheek and nose. 

I was hunched over the table where I’d performed my impromptu auto-surgery, back bent and crooked at an awkward angle, but my head was lightly held against Sarisa’s stomach. Her diaphragm rose and fell in smooth, gentle motions, tempting me back to sleep. I succumbed, nuzzling my nose against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. They really needed to make women’s clothes thicker and more hardy. I’m sure she got ripped off for this. 

As I closed my eyes, ready to sleep just a little more, my thoughts drifted back to myself and the current situation. Seems like wakefulness would keep it’s hold on me for now. My own magic was heavily depleted and my body was sluggish in healing it’s wounds. Well, wound. The really big one I made myself. Though it was at a pace quicker than the average man’s, it was still too slow for my liking. I estimated that without a font of power, a leyline, or a collection of materials to consume, it’d take me roughly three days to be back in top shape. 

I hated this weakness that permeated my cold limbs. I was reasonably sure that if she wasn’t holding my head, I’d be shivering uncontrollably. Every cell in my body screamed for rest and rejuvenation, but it wasn’t really an option. Someone had engineered this path for us, and even if they didn’t expect us to survive, they’d probably have a contingency plan in place. Like some sort of assassin sent to eliminate us or something. 

Somehow, it was hard to care. 

Part of me wanted to give up.

I’d lost my comfortable every day life AND the exciting sorcerer’s path before me in a single day. My existence was the catalyst for some dark awakening of an incalculable threat. I couldn’t even keep Sarisa safe. All I had after that was this anger in my heart, this smoldering fury that replaced my heartbeat. I remembered how I reveled in the kill, when I bit and tore like an animal.

This time, I really did shudder. I felt Sarisa move a little underneath me, clinging to my head in her sleep like a favorite pillow. I didn’t move away.  

I didn’t wanna be like that. I didn’t want to be a killer. I was cavalier about violence when it came to those that instigated it, but there was a line I never crossed. Even in my most cruel and cold moments, I never flat-out enjoyed it. Yesterday wasn’t the first time I killed. It wasn’t something new to me. To live with magic was to live with death and destruction. It was to know the cause of things like “unexplained disappearances” and “freak accidents”. You learned to shut out the guilt and the torment and the unending grief at taking the life of another living being in self-defense.

You learned to defend yourself or you died. 

I learned.

I was thirteen when I took my first life. 

My dad and I were on a “trip” over summer break, training up in the mountains. The Ural Mountains, to be precise. The whole trip had been a spur of the moment idea, brought to life when I came into my father’s sanctum to ask where we were going for my next stage of training. My father had been reading a book titled  Гибель тургруппы Дятлова, which I would learn read something along the lines of “Death of the Dyatlov Tourists.” Apparently, the incident took place sometime in 1959 and involved a group of hikers dying mysterious deaths on the Мёртвая вершина, which apparently meant “Dead Mountain.” I couldn’t read Cyrillic and didn’t speak Russian, but I spent the flight on my father’s tablet, looking up everything I could about the incident. It said that the mountain was named because of the lack of hunting game, but to me, it always seemed like an oddly morbid choice. Surely there were other features to name a mountain after.

We had set up camp in the same area as the Dyatlov group had, though we had a far easier time because, well. None of their group members could levitate or conjure fireballs. Or they chose not to for the challenge, I don’t know. I was thirteen. Anyway. My father established a cozy base camp (complete with an extremely large and fantastically orange outpost tent) and set up a small sanctum, indicating that this was where we’d be spending my entire summer break. I was overtly excited, having read the embellished accounts of what happened in this area in detail. I guess I thought I’d be the one to figure out what had really happened and blast whatever it was back to hell. Sarisa tried the same thing with me when I got home because it turned out she missed me and spent the summer trying to get Thomas to go looking for me. Almost succeeded, if not for the fact that they were turned away at the ticket gate because her mother found out about the purchase on her card. Anyway. 

I was enjoying my first mug of coffee before it happened. My actual first mug of coffee. We’d just finished elemental channeling and dad decided I deserved a little gift for my progress. Honestly, it sucked, but I loved my dad and all his weird habits, so I drank it. I snuck a little more sugar and creamer in every time he’d take a break from his research on the area to get up to check something outside, though. 

I found out what he was checking for when a blast of lightning tore a hole through our tent’s door and opened the top up to the sky. It was followed by a series of loud shouts in Russian. Emirus clicked his tongue and looked at me over his mug that said “#1 Wizard Daddy”. 

“A warning shot is it? Ah, my boy, this is a lesson for you! Never discharge deadly magic as a mere threat. If you shoot something that can kill, you aim to kill!”

In retrospect my father’s words probably should have chilled me, but in that moment, they excited me. My dad was a giddy kid and that infected me. I was thirteen and pretty sure I was invincible. 

Dad put on what he’d affectionately call his “war face” and took the dramatic entrance, levitating himself out of the hole in the tent not with pure magic power, but with static discharge. Lances of thunder crackled off his body and he regarded our guests with sheer contempt. Pointing a finger at a wire of a man in full snow gear, probably in his late thirties to early forties, my father spoke.

Dad looked a lot like Dracula from those Castlevania games, now that I think about it. I’d stepped outside with my hot mug in my hands, sipping it and watching the proceedings. I felt strangely detached from it all, like I knew nothing was going to happen. 

“I’m trying to teach my son about an important piece of recent history! What business does the Russian government have with us? We were enjoying a sensible moment of father-son bonding.”

I still can’t believe to this day that he regarded a commando unit of Russian sorcerers like he was the one being inconvenienced. I mean, I can, but who does that? My dad, I guess.

“Emirus Culaine, you and yours have trespassed upon land under the governance of the Russian konfederatsiya koldunov. All outside investigation and exploration of the Dyatlov Pass must be processed by said confederacy of sorcerers.”

“Oh, you didn’t get the request? I put it in months ago. I had this planned for a while, you see.” 

My father, still dramatically crackling like a god of thunder in the air, scratched his chin. Holy shit dad, I can tell you’re lying. They probably can too.

“We have no records of this. I will have to ask you to vacate the premises immediately and turn over any research materials you may have produced in this time.”

As the commander spoke, I regarded the soldiers that had begun to take up firing positions around the camp. A sixth sense - honed by training with my father in perilous conditions - was screaming for me to take cover. I could almost feel the killing intent washing off of them as they raised their weapons. Some drew rifles, some drew magical foci, the others drew melee weapons. Instead, I spoke. Maybe I could get them to leave if I used my childlike innocence or whatever?

“Hey dad, didn’t you leave that one grimoire back at the hotel in Ivdel? It read like...koldunov gibel dyatlov...a?” I hastily conjured up a lie, using the very few Russian words I’d heard recently in an attempt to make up a book title. I’m pretty sure what I said was approaching nonsense, but the commander snapped his attention to me like I was the true target all along. I think he just realized I was there, actually.

Oh man, I messed up, huh?

“Kill the sorcerer, apprehend the child. He will suffice.”

Everything was kind of a blur after those words. Kill? Like, my dad? You guys are dumb. Knowing I could still end up an accidental victim caused me to dive back into the tent, conjuring up a shell of ice to hide under. It seemed like ice magic always came way more easily to me than any other. Dad said I got it from my mom. 

Bolts of lightning discharged from my father’s floating form, striking down a full third of the assailants before they could react. Bullets whizzed through the air but the static energy radiating off Emirus seemed to deflect all of them. Spells were turned away just as easily, causing the four basic elements to crash into the snowdrifts and mountain crags. I briefly wondered about avalanches before shaking my head, hiding under my ice shell for cover.

I thought it was safe once all the sound had stopped. Fires burned, crackling on the shattered bodies of the soldiers, all reduced to piles of scorched meat by my father’s power. I’d seen bodies before in our necromantic studies, but... the smell reminded me of bacon, and my stomach turned over. I emptied my first cup of coffee into the snow, breakfast soon following. Everything seemed less and less real. 

A lot of kids think their dad is the coolest or strongest or the best at Mario Kart or whatever, but in my case, my dad really was the strongest. He proved it. He staked his claim on his existence by destroying anything that threatened it with unrelenting power. The beautiful and hazy idea of my father as “the strongest” was suddenly a concrete and scary fact. 

He was the strongest because the breadth and scope of his existence wouldn’t allow anything that opposed him to exist.

I wobbled a bit, bent over in the snow, drool and spittle leaking from my lips. I heard something crunching in the snow and assumed it was dad. My body slackened in relief.

“I’m okay, dad. Sorry, I ju-”

A horrific wail pierced the lightly falling snow of the afternoon as the thing crunching the wet snow behind me flung itself on top of me. A caricature of a man, wiry and thin with most of his features melted or scorched off, grappled for my throat, shattered and broken teeth gnashing fruitlessly. I shrieked as a bloody froth fell on my face and his blistered fingers tightened around my throat. I clawed at his hands desperately, even has he whispered hoarsely.

“Dyatlov...it’s mine it’s mine it’s mine it’s mine...it must...remain fed..ah, it’s mine, it’s mine it’s mine....it’s mine...”

As my vision darkened, a voice seemed to whisper to me in my own head. Soft and comforting, musical, simultaneously chilling and warm, majestic. Feminine and masculine. It reminded me of my mother’s voice, but I knew it wasn’t. It seemed to dance around the blackness in my eyes, like it had a form I simply couldn’t see.

Snow child, why do you not brush this nuisance off?

Because I can’t, I replied.

Snow child, why do you lie in the face of death?

Because I’m afraid, I replied.

Snow child, why are you afraid?

Because...I don’t want to kill somebody, I replied.

Snow child, is your existence worth this little?

I just don’t want to kill people, I cried.

Snow child, is your father’s retaliation wrong?

I just don’t want anyone else to die, I cried.

Snow child, this man is killing you.

Am I supposed to kill him, then? I cried.

Snow child, you live in the embrace of death. Embrace it in turn.

Will I be forgiven? I begged.

There is nothing to forgive, son of snow.

I’m not sure how long the conversation in my head lasted, but it couldn’t have been more than a second. It was like all the power in my veins turned to ice and rippled outwards. The hands around my neck went slack, and when my vision returned, I had jammed a thin blade of ice through the commander’s melted and gashed forehead.

We returned early. My father said that he’d found out all he needed to know about Dyatlov Pass and that we’d return one day to set things right. At first, I thought he meant with the Russian magical authorities, but I realized he meant with the Pass itself. After all, the commander had spoken of something that needed to be fed, and my father had acted in self defense.

When I returned home, my mother found me right away. Her embrace was warm, her skin as cool as it ever was. Her red eyes dripping tears and her short black hair even more disheveled than usual, she pulled me close.. She must have really missed me, I thought. Sorry, mom. I did something wrong, but I feel like it’ll be okay somehow. I won’t be weak again.

Now that I think back on it, I think she knew something inside of me had changed. Something had awoken that she’d hoped would sleep a little longer, if not forever.

I modeled myself after my father. I defended myself voraciously, actively, coldly. I closed my heart off to the pain that resonated inside of it when I took a life to preserve my own. I drowned the guilt in laughter and the comfort of friends. I turned a blind eye to the injustice wrought by forgetting the dead.

That seemed to be coming to an end, though. Seems like I’d realized that somewhere along the way, I’d started to enjoy those attempts on my life. I’d enjoyed proving my existence the superior one and it broke my own heart. I wonder if my dad wrestled with this? Probably. He was old - all great sorcerers were capable of stopping their own aging and reversing senescence, so I thought nothing of my parents and their ages. They’d probably both grappled with this issue. 

I wonder if they felt as I did, though. I wonder if they would forgive me.

It was only when I woke that I realized I had been been asleep at all, much less dreaming of my childhood. Sarisa’s fingers were in my hair again, and she looked at me with a distressed smile.

“You okay? You’re crying.”

“Yeah, I was just dreaming of playing Knights of the Old Republic 3 and realized it’s never happening.”

“Idiot.” 

She tugged my hair and I winced, both at the slight jolt of pain and the realization that I was still absolutely disgusting. I wanted to ask her to get her fingers out of my hair, but the comfort her actions brought kept me pitifully silent.

We dozed together in the late morning sun for a few moments, talking about nothing in particular. When I went to raise my head off her stomach, she gently but firmly guided it back down. Told me it comforted her as much as it comforted me. I decided to talk about what happened last night and where to go from here.

I was in the middle of recounting what happened with Amduisas as a change in the air alerted me to danger. That sixth sense I’d developed prodigiously over the years screamed at me that someone unknown was close. Something wavering on the thin edge of hostility.

“Sarisa-”

“Yeah, we have a visitor.”

#writing #my writing #the deeper wound #fantasy #modern fantasy #magic

[thespacenico]

klance fic recommendations!

some good kl fics for the soul (more under the cut)

a bullet just to meet you (petalloso)

lance spiderman au!

completed (1/1)

“What color are your eyes?” “What?” “It’s just, I can’t tell. I think about it a lot, your eyes and the color. You know how we can only see the barest portion of the electromagnetic spectrum? Even bees can see more of it than we can. I feel like whatever color they are, people can’t see it, like it only exists on you.”

a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss (cityboys)

super soft keith comforting lance

completed (1/1)

"You don't have to keep coming here, you know." Keith frowns, settling back with his hands at his sides. "Are you sending me away?" "No," Lance says, too loud too fast. "Just—you know—you have a choice." Keith lets silence fall back for a moment. Then, flatly, he says; "And I'm choosing to be here."

and, we dream of home (mothpoem)

keith visits lance while he’s with the bom

incomplete (2/3)

Keith feels his breath catch at the sight and has to forcibly remind himself that he’s not staring down a desert mirage, that Lance won’t wink out of existence up close and at exactly the wrong angle. He’s real. Not a pipe dream. Real boy. Blue and breathing. And beautiful, Keith’s brain adds, almost unwillingly. “And beautiful,” Keith mutters ruefully as he approaches at a silent soldier’s tread, and then he has to repress a big, dumb smile.

aprovechar el sol (speaks)

keith meets lance’s family

completed (4/4)

"Because I love you," Lance said, and Keith was floored by the way it just fell out of his mouth like he'd said it a thousand times before, the way it carried the same inflection it had when he said it earlier to each member of his family. "And there's nothing in the universe that could change that.”

better than coffee (anonymous)

keith is a barista and lance suddenly needs boba every day

completed (4/4)

“What’s in a name?” said Lance. “That which we call a rose—” Keith wrinkled his nose (rather adorably, Lance noted). “Don’t call me a rose.” Lance clutched his chest on one hand and held out the other to Keith. “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Keith is the sun!” Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why did I ever give you my number?”

call me, beep me (orphan_account)

super sweet texting fic

completed (10/10)

(19:12) Update: Muffin is safe. (19:13) We found him in the park with a group of cats. Mildly worried he might be part of a gang. This big one with one eye tried to claw my face off when I went to grab Muffin. (19:20) This is the greatest news I've heard all day.

due west (europa_report)

krolia’s pov on keith’s and lance’s relationship

completed (5/5)

“Why did the blue lion choose you?” Lance’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. He was an expressive boy. He wiped the shock away quickly though, smiling easily as he took a small sip from the drink he held. “Dunno. We had a connection, I felt it the second I stepped into that cave. You know, the one Keith-“ “I know,” Krolia said tersely. “I found it.”

eternity (was in our lips and our eyes) (thespacenico)

post s7 feud episode

completed (1/1)

Lance feels like he's on the cusp of a life-changing revelation. "I told him not to tell you." And this time, Keith doesn't seem to have trouble asking the unavoidable question: "Why?" Lance looks at Keith, and everything falls into place. A life-changing, mind-blowing, head-splitting, earth-shattering revelation.

hearts don’t break around here (klancekorner)

lifetime best friends to lovers

completed (13/13)

“You could do the deep dish pizza place next to the park?” “Deep dish isn't sexy, Snickers.” “Does it have to be sexy?” “Of course.”

hey, mom, i met a boy (mothpoem)

keith sees visions of his future with lance

completed (1/1)

“What did you see?” Krolia murmurs. “Nothing,” Keith answers, voice rough. And then: “Everything.”

home is a feeling (thespacenico)

post s6, lance feels guilty about shiro and keith has nightmares

completed (3/3)

Keith has never felt so vulnerable. But in this moment, his head on Lance's shoulder, Lance's arms around him, he feels safe. He feels home.  He didn't know that home could be a feeling up until now.

if i had one wish (thespacenico)

for keith’s birthday; found family

completed (1/1)

Shiro seems to realize what's happened before Keith does. "You forgot," he says softly.   Keith stares at them. It's his birthday. He forgot his birthday. "Oh my god," Lance says.

just come to me once (laallomri)

keith writes lance letters on the space whale

incomplete (2/3)

Hi Lance. I hope you are okay. Today I hugged my mom for the first time. It wasn’t very good cause she’s kind of awkward about hugs and so am I. But I still liked it. I think I get it now when you said you missed your mom’s hugs so much. I hope you get to hug her soon.

let me melt under the heat of your sun (akaeijis, esbis)

lance and keith fall in love pre-kerberos mission

completed (1/1)

Keith’s lips are chapped, but they yield and they welcome and Lance feels like the ground gives way and he’s trapped in a freefall in slow motion. It’s so warm, the sun in his hands—moths burn up in flames, Icarus hurtles to the ground in a blazing trail, nothing gold can stay—Lance allows himself to burn.

mail me your heart (you already got it) (crystalklances)

basically a love, simon au??

completed (1/1)

You’re making me blush, Red. You don’t even know what I look like, how would you know I’m cute? Either you’re just messing with me, or you really are trying to flirt.

never saw you coming (dimpleforyourthoughts)

E M O T I O N A L   R O L L E R   C O A S T E R

completed (1/1)

If it were anyone else, Keith would figure he’d be dead in a minute. But he knows, as soon as he gives in to the beckoning unconsciousness, exactly what’s going to happen. He’s only been watching Lance’s stupid goddamned martyr complex play itself out for months now. He knows exactly how this story ends.

nothing’s quite as sweet (dimpleforyourthoughts)

keith is a barista and lance volunteers at a cat shelter

completed (1/1)

Keith grabs the collar of Lance’s hoodie and pulls him back down. Keith thinks, please catch me please catch me please catch me. And Lance does.

say my name (and every color illuminates) (talking_bird)

dream soulmate au

completed (1/1)

“Well, that’s what you are, right? My subconscious talking to me? That’s what my aunt says dreams are, but it’s kinda weird that my subconscious hasn’t seen the ocean before since I’ve been around the ocean my entire life.”

the light the water reflects (auras)

the softest and most poetic thing you’ll ever read

completed (1/1)

“You know,” Lance says, “When I think of home, I think of something that makes me feel content and warm inside. Metaphorically speaking.” Lance’s hand doesn’t move from his, even after the other boy dozes off, filling the silence with his gentle snores.  (It makes Keith feel content, and warm inside.)

the love you left behind (thespacenico)

adam, keith, and lance post-kerberos mission

incomplete (1/3)

"Do you still love him?" he asks quietly. Adam laughs softly. "Of course I do." He takes his glasses from the counter and pushes them back onto his nose. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed as hell." Keith snorts, and Adam instinctively brings his hand up to the chain around his neck as he looks back out the window, at the stars. "But, yeah. I still love him. That much hasn't changed."

the stars, the moon (they have all been blown out) (talking_bird)

hogwarts au

completed (1/1)

“You know,” Lance started, voice so quiet, Keith wondered if he even wanted him to hear it, “whenever I conjure my patronus, you’re my happiest memory…” In a ghost of a voice, Keith whispered, “And you’re mine.”

there, nestled against his pulse (hiuythn)

soulmate au that literally murders your soul. 

completed (17/17)

The words on Keith’s right wrist say, hey kogane you alright. The words on his left read, stop why are you doing this to me stop it stop it stop

when the lights go out (dimpleforyourthoughts)

date and a fifth

completed (1/1)

“You know,” Keith says quietly, “You’re not a bad dancer. I expected you to constantly step on my feet.” “That may be the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night.” “Don’t get too comfortable there, cowboy.” “Cowboy.” Lance grins, hopelessly endeared.

you’re lucky that’s what i like (zenstrike)

collection of absolute fluff

incomplete (12/?)

“Uh, Lance?” Lance felt his eyelids drooping. “Yeah?”     “I may have asked for tickets to the least crowded movie.”     Lance considered this. “And we didn’t even make out,” he said with a sigh. “...they didn’t tell me no one had bought a ticket.”     Lance smiled.

#klance #klance fics #voltron #vld #keith #lance

[thatgirlonstage]

(Minor) Spoilers for Voltron Season 7 ahead!

Set sometime shortly after “The Feud”. Klance, light angst with a happy ending.

Their rest stops are luxuries. Keith, the lost years, and the threat of the Galra coming to Earth drive them forward mercilessly, as fast as they can go. When they do stop, it’s usually to get some exercise, make sure their muscles and their hand-to-hand skills don’t atrophy, and to replenish supplies. Still, true breaks are necessary from time to time, if they don’t want to dissolve into hating each other. Abandoned Marmora bases make for as good a place as any to take a pit stop. Austere as they are, they’re still more comfortable than the cramped cargo holds of the lions, they’re secure, and they almost always have non-perishable food and medical supplies available. They usually attempt to use their communications too, but that’s brought more misses than hits so far.

Lance leans against the wall of his chosen room with a sigh, contemplating the cot before him. He’s not sure whether to be depressed or thankful for the lack of windows. He never thought he’d get tired of seeing the night sky, but what he wouldn’t give for daylight, a glimpse of the sun. If he closes his eyes, he can almost picture it, sparkling off the surface of the ocean on a hot afternoon, when the water is deep and enticing.

“Lance?”

He jolts from his vision, glancing in vague annoyance at the door he thought he’d closed. Keith is peeking through the crack, a hand half raised.

“Need something?” he asks. Keith pushes the door, letting it swing open. Lance’s spirits sink as he imagines some last-minute evening drill, or a request that he help search for supplies through some battle-damaged basement, or— whatever could cause Keith to bite his lip and awkwardly scuff the floor before he speaks, because it can’t possibly be good. “Keith?” he asks uncertainly.

“I didn’t mean what I said!” Keith bursts out, so loud Lance flinches. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. Keith’s fingers twist together nervously. “I, I didn’t— In the game show. Garfle… whatever it was called. With Bob. When I said the reason I picked you to get out was because I didn’t want to be stuck there for eternity with you.”

Lance shrugs. He’s too tired to try and parse Keith’s motives right now, and he doesn’t much care. “Look, that game show was like a weird collective fever dream, I barely even remember what happened,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can. That’s a lie, mostly. It does seem surreal in his memory, but “the dumb one” has joined the litany of phrases that jab him like needles in his moments of self-doubt, and the building, choking anxiety of failing to recognize face after face as his brain beats against his skull with a refrain of dumb failure dumb failure dumb failure isn’t something he’s likely to forget, soon or ever.

“I chose you because I want you to be able to go home.” Lance frowns, pushing off the wall to stand face to face with Keith, who’s still looking down and away from him.

“You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” he asks, a smile playing around his lips that dies when Keith shakes his head almost violently and finally looks at him.

“I didn’t really think we’d be stuck there forever,” Keith says. “I mean, I figured sooner or later Pidge or Allura or Hunk would have found us a way out. But just in case it took a long time, if I had to pick one person who got to leave, I wanted you to be able to go home. Because I know— I’ve heard you talk about your family. I know how much they mean to you. And I know you’ve stayed for us, and the universe, and you didn’t deserve to be trapped by some kind of… interdimensional madman.”

“Keith…” Lance says quietly. He feels awake again, staring at Keith, still getting used to his height, feeling a bizarre urge to step back so he can take him all in. “I… thank you? You didn’t have to… For me, you didn’t—”

“And I don’t think you’re the dumb one.” Lance blinks, represses a grimace.

“Oh gee thanks,” he says, a bite of sarcasm bleeding into his voice.

“You’re not,” Keith insists. “We were designed to fail those puzzles. If what Coran said about Bob is true, he probably… plucked exactly the names you’d forgotten out of your head, or something.”

“Thanks,” Lance says, and it’s softer this time, he means it this time. “You know you didn’t have to come tell me all this, though, right? It’s late. You should get some rest.” He bites his tongue against how glad he is Keith did, because his insecurities are his burden to carry, and they’ve all got enough on their minds. He doesn’t need a therapist, and he certainly doesn’t need to thrust Keith into that role. He’ll handle it. He always does. Keith rubs his shoulder and looks away again.

“Yeah. I just— I wanted you to know.” He lingers awkwardly in the doorway, and Lance should tell him to leave, but doesn’t, he can’t. He sees Keith drop his arm and it suddenly strikes him how long it’s been since he’s touched someone. Combat drills excepted – and even in those, he’s usually a ranged fighter – the Paladins have had very little physical contact lately. Without the Castle, gone are the movie nights they sometimes had, crowded around Pidge’s computer. Gone are Pidge and Hunk and him elbowing each other as they play Killbot. Gone are the days when they’d come back from training exhausted, and all just collapse across each other in the common room, in a tangle of limbs and heads and Hunk’s snores. So before he can think better of it, he opens his arms and offers, “Hug it out?”

Keith’s head jerks up and he stammers. “I, I, I’m not really much of a hugger? But, um, okay, I… guess?” Before he’s finished the sentence, Lance has wrapped his arms around him, and Keith returns the gesture, at first awkwardly, then settling into it. Lance breathes, and the tension bleeds out of his shoulders as he sinks into Keith’s warmth. He needs this more than he thought, he realizes, he was desperate for this, cold and tense and isolated without human touch. Keith tightens his grip, fingers digging into his back, their bodies pressing together with a ferocity of need. They hug for a long time, far too long, Lance thinks, longer than they should, but then again, time in space is weird. The length of their hug might be warped by the star, over in a blink and lasting an entire age all at once. So maybe he can hang on just a little longer, maybe he can stay here just another second, just another moment, stay here where he can breathe, and it won’t matter, and no one has to know.

“Thank you,” he says again, this one muffled by Keith’s shoulder, and this time he means it more than he can convey. Keith’s fingers knot in the back of his shirt, twisting it, squeezing him so tight he can’t breathe, and then he finally steps away. Lance feels his heart fall as the cool air rushes back against his skin, as he struggles not to show the feeling of loss on his face. Keith is flushed. He gives Lance a silent nod and turns as if to go, and yet still he doesn’t quite leave.

“I did mean what I said,” Lance says suddenly. “You’re— you are the future. We couldn’t have done any of this without you. And I… I missed you when you were gone.” It’s his turn to duck his head and rub at his elbow uncomfortably. “Things just didn’t feel right without you.”

They both look back at each other, and they’ve stepped out of the hug, but they are close, they are much too close, Lance thinks, he needs to step away before he does something he’ll regret. Except, as always, Keith is faster. He beats him to it. Lance finds himself staring surprised into defiant violet eyes, the pressure on his lips almost a challenge. It takes him a second to return it, to answer the challenge with pressure of his own, the sudden jolt of adrenaline and joy almost shoving Keith out the door himself. They break apart a moment later and stand panting, lips parted and eyes uncertain.

“We probably shouldn’t…” Keith says quietly. “I mean it’s not… We’re supposed to be…”

“You know, I really don’t think I care?” Lance says. And then Keith is on him again, a hand cupping his jaw, his mouth sliding open, and Lance brings a hand up to the back of Keith’s head to press him closer, fingers running through his mullet, and oh, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered for a long time how that would feel.

They’re both panting for breath by the time they break apart, still held so close that Lance can feel Keith’s chest heaving against him, and he presses his forehead against Keith’s, breathing in his scent, breathing in his smile, just breathing.

“Stay with me tonight?” Lance asks, and he feels Keith freeze in his arms. “Not like that!” he adds hastily, pulling his head back to look at a suddenly wary face. “Not— that’s too fast. I just…” His hands trace down Keith’s back, resisting the urge to pull him ever closer and never let go. “I just want to stay with you.” Keith hesitates slightly, but he nods, and kisses the corner of Lance’s mouth lightly.

“Me too,” he says. Lance grins.

“We chose the worst time to do this, didn’t we?” he asks. Keith buries his head into Lance’s shoulder and laughs quietly.

“What else do you expect from us?” he asks. Lance relinquishes his hold on Keith enough to pull him back and look him in the face.

“I expect it to be messy,” he says, punctuating the adjective with a peck on the lips. “And crazy. And somehow we’ll probably nearly die. But,” he pauses, lost for a moment in Keith’s eyes, “but it’ll, it’ll be worth it,” he stammers. “It will definitely be worth it.” Keith’s mouth quirks up in a grin.

“Okay, sharpshooter,” he says. He leans back in. “Okay.”

#voltron #klance #laith #keith kogane #vld lance #voltron spoilers #my writing

[mckinlily]

shalluraweek day 3: moon/sun

Summary: moon/sun Shiro makes a really dumb joke. That’s it. That’s the fic. Somehow this ends in Shiro and Allura dating.

read on ao3

“Do you want to see how fast I can climb this tree?”

Allura paused, trying to figure out how such a ridiculous sentence came out of Shiro’s mouth. They were, nominally, on a mission if a very easy one—walk around a moon’s lake and collect pretty rocks to prove the locals that she and Shiro were worth negotiating with. The chiefess had even assured them the ritual was primarily for show. Still, it wasn’t like Shiro to get distracted.

And really. How fast can I climb this tree?

Shiro seemed to be waiting, though. His smile, which had started boyish and impish, was fading slowly the longer he went without an answer.

“…I really think our focus should be on the mission,” said Allura.

Shiro’s shoulders slumped for half a second then snapped into military posture. “Right. Sorry. I—nevermind.”

It was just so out of character for him. Allura frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s nothing.” Shiro caught her eye and shrugged. “It was just…a joke.”

“Oh!” Allura clapped her hands and smiled at him. “I love jokes! Tell me!”

At least Shiro was smiling and shaking his head now. “It’s not really funny if I explain it.”

Which, yes, that was true. But now Allura’s curiosity was piqued, and she wanted to know.

“Shiiirro.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you been taking whining lessons from the paladins?”

Allura huffed. “If it works…”

Shiro looked caught between a laugh and a groan. “So what I’m hearing is you think I’m a push over.”

“Only with your team,” said Allura all smiles and innocence.

Shiro groaned and rolled his eyes. “So that’s why they never listen to me.”

That statement was actually entirely untrue. The other paladins listened to Shiro with a kind of unwavering trust that was honestly awe-inspiring. They might whine and complain, bicker and tease, but when push came to shove, they would follow Shiro without question to the end of the universe. Allura was supremely lucky that Shiro was as loyal to her as his team was to him, otherwise she would have long since faced a mutiny.

But that was too serious for the tone of the conversation, and Shiro had to know how much his team trusted him because he trusted them just as completely. Besides, there were more important things right now.

“So what was the joke?”

Shiro let out a long sigh. “It honestly wasn’t that good, Allura.”

If Shiro thought that could get her to back down, he clearly didn’t know her well enough. Allura clasped her hands in front of her, pushed her shoulders together, and leaned wayyy into Shiro’s space, opening her eyes as wide as they could go.

Shiro stumbled. “Oh. Oh. That’s dangerous.”

Allura just smiled innocently and fluttered her eyelashes.

She was rewarded a minute later when Shiro scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you, Shiro,” said Allura sweetly.

“Anyone tell you you’re a lot of trouble?” Shiro grumbled, but his lips were twitching. “Okay, so…ugh, this is dumb.”

“I believe in you, Black Paladin,” said Allura only a little facetiously.

Judging by Shiro’s expression, he didn’t believe she was that innocent, but he continued anyway.

“Remember like…way back when. Maybe a few weeks after we first met you? We were all super new to Voltron, and we stopped on that moon where Rolo and Nyma sent that fake distress single?”

“Oh, yes. Quiznak, that was a long time ago.” Shockingly long, really. It felt almost as long ago as the last time she had seen Altea. They had all felt so young back then and, though Allura won’t admit it, so scared. The tiny band of Earthlings had been nothing like the formidable team that they had become.

“Yeah…” said Shiro, looking a combination of exasperated and nostalgic. “So you remember how Nyma conned Lance and stole his Lion?”

“Oh, Lance,” sighed Allura, shaking her head. “At least he’s learned since then.”

“Took him a few times.”

“Or several.”

Shiro shook his head. “I should stand up for my teammate, but…”

“Part of being a good leader is knowing your teammates’ weaknesses,” said Allura primly.

Shiro burst out laughing. “Yes, so. While Lance was out there, one of the things he said to try and impress her was, ‘Want to see how fast I can climb this tree?’ So...yeah. That’s the joke.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I told you it wasn’t very good.”

“No. It’s a wonderful joke.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, shoulders shaking good naturedly. “Allura, you didn’t even give it a pity laugh.”

“Ha!” said Allura, which at least had the advantage of making Shiro laugh. He had a wonderful laugh, and despite making significant progress since they’d first started Voltron, it still didn’t make an appearance nearly enough.

“So…there you go,” he said with a shrug. “Now you know the joke, so I guess we can go back to looking for pretty rocks. I kinda like the ones with blue threads…”

They lapsed into silence, making their way along the lake’s edge. Shiro might be looking at the rocks, but Allura found her mind wondering.

“Shiro. When Lance said that to Nyma—he was flirting, correct?”

“Uh, badly. But yeah.”

“And so just now…” Allura felt like they were on the edge of something, and judging by the way Shiro froze and stared at her, he could tell, too. “…were you flirting as well?”

“Um. Baldly?” said Shiro like he wasn’t sure that was the right answer. He tucked his head, and Allura could see red climbing up the column of his neck.

“Because…” Allura took a deep breath and went for the plunge. “You wouldn’t have to do anything to impress me. I already know you are an incredible fighter and capable of any number of ridiculous and frankly dangerous physical feats. I also know you are kind and brave and trustworthy and the strongest person I have ever met. Not to mention, you are incredibly attractive.”

Shiro’s face bloomed a wonderful shade of red. “That—oh. I—um—”

Allura hugged her arms around her stomach, trying to quash the painful beatings of her heart. “If—If that changes anything.”

“There isn’t really the time…” Shiro spoke almost as if debating with himself.

“We both have responsibilities,” agreed Allura immediately. “That has to take priority over anything normal—”

Shiro snorted loudly. “Since when was anything about our lives normal?”

“True,” said Allura, doing her best to squash down disappointment. She and Shiro were built for the war—for the universe, and they took pride in that. They didn’t have room for something as frivolous as dating. The universe had to come first.

“Hey.” Shiro’s hand touched her shoulder, gentle and almost hesitant. “Do you want to make this a date?”

“Huh?”

“Well…” Shiro shrugged and gestured to the scene around them. “Quiet walk, beautiful moon, beautiful lake.” He glanced at her and winked. “Beautiful princess. What do you think?”

He was asking about more than just today, Allura realized. Yes, he seemed to be saying, they were the Princess and the Black Paladin. They didn’t have time for what most couples did when they were courting. But maybe they could make it work in their own way.

Allura took Shiro’s hand off her shoulder and intertwined her fingers. “I think I’d like that.”

Shiro’s answering smile was beaming.

(In the end, they forgot to collect any moon rocks and had to send Keith and Lance to get some. “It’ll be good for them,” said Shiro. “Besides, they need practice with diplomacy.” And he snuggled Allura a bit closer.)

#shallura #shalluraweek2020 #mckinlily writes: vld fic #let these two just have fun okay?