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thebluestbluewords · 1 year

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I posted 1,832 times in 2022

116 posts created (6%)

1,716 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sparrowmoth

@callous-and-misunderstood

@irethsune

@dizzydizney

@thebluestbluewords

I tagged 1,712 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#blue’s queue - 271 posts

#blue's queue - 250 posts

#twst - 244 posts

#not descendants - 95 posts

#my fic - 94 posts

#descendants cast - 87 posts

#princess posting - 72 posts

#fic ref - 65 posts

#descendants - 43 posts

#mal bertha - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#on the opportunity to be like ‘yes clearly that’s what was going on’ and then decide to be more subtle about her power plays in the future

My Top Posts in 2022:

no thoughts head empty post notes app fic directly to tumblr (references to child abuse, bad parenting) *

“Bad dad club represent,” Mal says dully, waving one hand in something almost like a cheer. “Wooo, go team.”

“Should I leave?” Evie asks.

“Your dad’s dead,” Mal says, after a long moment during which Ben contemplates the merits of throwing himself out a window rather than walking back into any room that his father is in ever again. “I don’t think that really counts as being a shitty parent, but absent could count if you want it to.”

“My dad’s dead too.” Carlos says, standing up and pocketing his phone in one smooth motion. “C’mon Evie, we can go get snacks or something.”

“If you’re sure that you’re all going to be okay in here, and not try to burn any buildings down,” Evie says, looking at Mal, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Mal waves a gracefully scarred hand.“The bad dad club requests chips.”

“Granted.”

“Then begone from my sight, dead daddy issue gang.”

Evie leans in to press a kiss to Mal’s forehead. “Don’t cause any major incidents, okay? And have fun, I guess.”

“We won’t.”

“I might,” Jay says, from where he’s curled on the floor with his homework. “I love talking shit about my father.”

Ben’s face still feels raw. “I want to kill my dad.” he says. He’s not thinking straight. His voice is still hoarse. He can feel the air being crushed out of him. A war hero for a dad is all well and good until the villains are gone, there’s no more wars to fight, and the beast can’t put his claws away to handle the kid he’s somehow been given.

There’s a moment of shocked, dead silence, and then everyone bursts into noise all at once.

“Babe,” someone who is probably Evie says, “We don’t have to-“

“…can kill him for you if you want, not like it would be—“

“To reconsider methods?”

Mal is cackling. Loudly. She’s the easiest thread to pick out, so that’s what Ben focuses on. She’s cackling like her mother, rough and full-bodied and creepier the longer it goes on.

“That’s the spirit! I can have a spell within the week!”

54 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

D2 was a bop actually

“Ben,” Evie snaps, “Stop. Just. Stop that.”

“Why?” Ben asks, already freezing. He’s not dumb. The Isle is obviously a dangerous place to be, but he’s got some guy in a pirate hat staring at him, and the VKs are all about confronting people who stare at them in the hall at school.

The guy who’d been staring at him leers, and Evie jerks him backwards before the flash of silver in the guy’s hand can make contact.

“That’s why,” Evie whispers, both hands on his shoulders. “This isn’t a paradise. It’s the Isle. You have to blend in, or we’re not going to have enough of you to be worth taking back with us.”

The guy in the pirate hat is laughing at them, until there’s a ripping noise, and then a gurgling one, and he’s not laughing anymore. He’s on the ground, actually, and there’s something dark and wet staining his shirt. Something fresh, that is. There’s a lot of stains already on the guy’s clothes.

Jay tucks something small and shiny back into his pocket. The guy is still moving, but the way the blood is spreading makes it sort of clear that he’s not going to be moving for much longer.

Ben decides, rather abruptly, that he’s going to look at Evie and only Evie until further notice.

Evie seems to agree with this decision, if the way she’s pulling on his shoulders is any indication.

“Head down,” Evie instructs, tugging on the knit hat she gave him in the car. “Don’t look at anyone, don’t say hello, and definitely don’t try to shake hands with people. They aren’t going to just wish you a good day here.”

“Keep your hands in your pockets unless you’re stealing,” Jay adds. “And uh, maybe don’t try that either. You’re not carrying anything valuable, are you?”

Ben is smart enough to just shake his head. He’s carrying a number of valuable items, from the ring on his finger to the ID and money in his wallet, but he’s starting to get the idea that he should keep his mouth shut and his head down here, and that even talking about any valuables is the quickest way to lose them.

Not that he can’t replace the wallet, if it comes down to that.

And as long as nobody steals the fingerprints off his fingers. That would be… problematic.

Well. The court buildings could probably use an update to the fingerprint scanners anyway. And it’s not like most villains are going to escape the isle anytime soon. Especially not if Ben is here, instead of at home passing laws to open the isle for the children of the villains. Who may or may not have murdered people.

It’ll be fine.

Yeah.

“Yeah,” Carlos says, echoing the sentiment Ben is trying to repeat to himself. “and you either slouch or strut. None of your royal galavanting everywhere. Shoulders down. Look like you want to be somewhere else.”

That part should be easy. “I wish,” Ben says, trying to comply with the instructions. His shoulders feel too wide to slouch properly. “I want to be somewhere else.”

Evie reaches over and pushes his shoulders down and forward, halfway rolled, like he’s hunching over a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day. Or like he’s trying to his his laptop screen from someone. A secretive posture.

“Yeah, well,” she says, going for Ben’s hip next. “We need to get Mal, so you need to blend in long enough to get her out of here alive with us.”

Ben slouches, trying to match Evie’s posture. “Sure.”

Evie frowns. “You’re cute. Look mean.”

Ben isn’t good at looking mean. It’s one of his best features, usually. Nobody questions his intentions back home when he can just smile and tell them that he’s doing research for a school project, and them beam politely at them and start spouting facts about the history of chocolate trading in the Atlantica provinces in the 1600s until they go away and let him get on with his actual reading.

Still, it’s worth a try. Ben’s had teachers who are mean, and it’s usually something about the eyebrows.

“Like this?” he tries, scowling a bit.

Evie’s lips quirk up in something that’s almost like a smile, but meaner. The kind of smile that Audrey would give right before she made someone cry. “Sure. And never, ever smile, okay? It makes you look unhinged.”

Ben frowns at that. “Thanks.”

Evie slaps his shoulder. “No!” she exclaims. “No ‘thank you', and drop the ‘please’ too. Just… be chill.”

61 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

Mal should be allowed to kill

“You…”

“I killed my mother,” Mal gasps, looking just as shocked as the rest of the assembled crowd. “She’s really dead.”

Fairy Godmother scoops up the crushed body of the lizard, which had been quite set on escaping to freedom just moments before Mal’s attempt at capturing her under a bowl had ended rather badly. ”It would certainly seem that way.” she agrees. “It’s a funny thing, how the most powerful among us can be felled by the smallest acts of kindness, isn’t it?”

“I was trying to capture her,” Mal says, still looking sort of shocked. “I wanted to keep her in an aquarium and torment her every day until she shrunk down to nothing.”

Fairy Godmother frowns, still cradling the body of her greatest enemy in her cupped hands. “That’s not very kind of you, dear.”

“My mother has never been kind to me,” Mal says, looking a bit like she’d like to crush another one of the world’s most powerful sorceresses under a glass bowl. “The love in her heart was there because her stupid familiar is still up on the rafters, and I’m sure she caught a glimpse of him and remembered how nice it is to have a creature that’s entirely under your control. She doesn’t love me. People don’t love their favorite tools, especially not when they fail at getting you out of prison and try to betray you. You wouldn’t love a hammer if it kept turning around and hitting you instead of the nail, right? My mother valued me as a tool. She’s never once loved me, and now,” Mal turns around to face the assembled crowd of her friends, a little cluster of bright clothes and shocked faces amidst the pastel crowd of Auradon royalty and their families. “She’s never going to hurt us again!”

A murmur goes through the crowd.

“Maleficent is dead!” Mal shouts. “Long live the new king!”

This is a sentiment the crowd understands.

“Long live the king!”

“And death to my mother!” Mal adds, under the rising murmurs of a crowd who is starting to process what they’ve just seen. “May she rest in hell where she belongs.”

94 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

“I’ve never actually used a shower before!” Jay shouts. “My dad didn’t let me use the nice shit at Maleficent’s place!”

“My mom didn’t let me use the nice shit!” Mal calls back. “It’s left knob for hot water, right knob for cold.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then a creak, and the sound of rushing water.

“If you don’t condition your hair I’m going to disown you.” Evie says softly, leaning her head up against the crack in the door. “It’s—“

There’s a clunk, and then the sounds of several bottles falling off the edge of the shower.

Jay yelps. “Fuck.”

“It’s the purple bottle!” Evie chirps helpfully.

Another clatter.

“There’s two purple bottles,” Jay calls, voice slightly strangled sounding. “And they’re both fucking heavy and one of them fell on my fucking nerve point.”

“Dark purple!” Evie calls sweetly through the door. “The light purple one is for Mal, it keeps her color fresh.”

“Take that back!” Mal snaps. She does not dye her hair, and Evie knows it.

Evie sticks her tongue out at Mal. “No,” she says “I’m not lying for you anymore. We’re supposed to be learning how to blend in either the good little princes and princesses now.”

“By not lying,” Mal grumbles. “Which is what you’re doing right now, you terrible witch.”

“I would never.” Evie says sweetly, leaning against the door of the bathroom. “I’ve never lied once in my life ever.”

107 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

MORE heartslabyul fam?? In my gdocs?? It's more likely than you think

A little bit of Heartslabyul upperclassmen fic, playing directly with @mintmoth 's Overblot AU idea. (After overblotting, the overblot-form of the student hangs around for a bit causing problems as a sort of magical leftover)

“No offense babes, but he’s sort of harshing the vibe here. Can he like, leave?”

“No.” Riddle says flatly. There’s something dead about his eyes. It would almost be a nice change from the burning rage, except for how it’s mostly just worrying. “He’s a physical manifestation of my worst qualities, borne of my magic. He can’t physically leave my presence.”

“But like–” Cater waves a hand. “He doesn’t follow you to the bathroom.”

Riddle sighs. Deeply.

The overblot shrieks in pure, unbridled rage. “HE IS RIGHT HERE! WERE I TO LEAVE I SUSPECT YOU WOULD CONTINUE THIS DISRESPECTFUL DIATRIBE AGAINST MY CHARACTER AND I REFUSE TO BE SPOKEN ABOUT IN SUCH A WAY!!”

“Cool.” Cater lifts his hand to draw in a fresh mouthful of smoke. “If we promise to shut up about you, will you leave?”

“NO.”

“‘Kay. Do you want to join in, or do you wanna like, go do some more homework or something in the corner?”

The overblot’s face crumples a bit. “Homework is a worthwhile way to occupy our time here as students. If I were to go and do that, would you join me?”

“Nah. It’s Friday, babe. Time to relax for once.”

The overblot glances back and forth from the desk to Cater, eyes flickering even more than they normally seem to be. The creepy shadow realm thing makes it hard to tell exactly what his face is doing most of the time. Beyond rage. That comes through perfectly well. Also the screaming, that really helps with the emotional projection there.

“I do not want to relax–” he tries. “I would rather see my time put to good use.”

He sneaks a glance over at the actual flesh-and-blood Riddle, who seems to have given up and is sitting on the floor.

Cater follows his gaze. “Yeah, even Riddle has to relax sometime. You’re allowed to not be a manifestation of evil all the time, y’know. You could try chilling the fuck out. Eating a pastry or something. You want to join us?”

“No.” The overblot-riddle says, but he’s not screaming anymore, so it’s still progress. “I would rather sit in the corner and pretend not to see my housemates waste their time on frivolous pastimes that will ultimately destroy their lungs and hearts before the age of forty-five, thank you.”

Cater laughs, because he hasn’t actually managed to destroy his lungs with smoke yet, despite what the overblot (and Riddle too, probably) thinks. “Sure. We’ll be over here having fun if you change your mind.”

“I will not.” then overblot says stiffly, walking over to his corner. “In the rare case that you come to your senses, I will be in my corner.”

341 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #it’s like a little highlights reel for my most popular fic posts #confused that I apparently reblogged a ton of twst when I thought I was keeping that interest in moderation??#but I guess I don’t tag reblogs of descendants stuff so it makes sense #anyway happy December #gotta try to post some good fic in the last month of the year.#get those fic stats up some more

3 notes · View notes

silasnce · 6 years

Note

How about the crew find (rescue? capture? you decide friend or foe) a djinn and each paladin +Coran gets a wish. But as you know wishes from djinn tend to be tricky and not always do you end up with what you want. (fav characters to focus on would be Lance or Hunk but go with whoever inspires you)

“Jinn is an Arabic collective noun deriving from the Semitic root jnn (Arabic: جَنّ / جُنّ‎, jann), whose primary meaning is “to hide” or “to conceal”. Some authors interpret the word to mean, literally, “beings that are concealed from the senses”.” (source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jinn)

I just gotta say. This was been a really great prompt, so thank you for sending it in? Really creative idea! It was fun to work with. :D

Also… This flew into hance territory. I have no regrets.

Send me a ship/prompt.

Thanks to @spicygenou for being the best beta!

The second moon was just beginning to set when the castle touched down onto the surface of the rocky planet they’d just saved from a rather large fleet of Galra. White light tinged the horizon as the sun began to rise, painting blue arcs high in the planet’s atmosphere. After the castle’s doors opened, Lance’s eyes blew wide open at the sight, and a weak whistle drifted from his lips in appreciation. The paladins slowly disembarked, expecting to be greeted by the inhabitants of Obscura only to find…nothing?

“Where is everyone?” Lance asked, moving to look around on either side of the castle’s entrance.

Allura frowned, “Coran, didn’t you say that this planet was inhabited? There’s nobody here.”

“I’m most certain that it is, Princess,” Coran replied from where he stood just inside the castle doors.

Pidge fiddled with her helmet before sucking in a sharp breath, “Oh, it’s inhabited all right. Flip on your thermal lenses, guys.”

Lance did so along with the rest of the team. A strangled yelp caught in his throat as the stretch of empty, rather warm land before them filled with the freezing temperature signatures of a mass of hidden bodies.

“Okay. I don’t know about you guys, but that’s freaky,” Hunk wheezed, taking a small step back.

Coran perked up, “Ah! They’re camouflaged then? The Djinn are quite an interesting people. By cooling their cores to freezing temperatures, a Jinni is able to become unseen to the naked eye.”

“Wait. Genie? As in like… living in a lamp and granting wishes kind of genie?” Lance tugged his helmet off, holding it against his hip as he turned to properly look at the older Altean.

“What? Who would-? No matter. I don’t know about living in a lamp, but-!”

“We welcome you, Paladins of Voltron.”

Coran quieted at being interrupted by a deep, booming voice, and the rest of team stilled, attention drawn back towards the large group of concealed aliens before them. Two bodies had warmed up considerably. The rest of the paladins removed their helmets to see two rather tall ones approaching them with all the grace and dignity befitting royals. They were androgynously humanoid in appearance, wearing a clinging, sheer type of clothing that matched the blue hues of their bodies. Their skin appeared to be inked with black lines that swirled and formed pictures that couldn’t quite be made out at their current distance from the group. Both appeared to be completely hairless, and small spikes were visible on their hips, shoulders, outer forearms, and calves as they drew closer.

Allura stepped forward to greet them, raising her chin slightly with a placating smile, “I am Princess Allura of Altea and pilot of the Blue Lion.”

The taller of the two Djinn spoke, their voice rough around the edges, “I am Ifrit, High Priest of Obscura, and this is my soul shard, Marid. Princess Allura of Altea, what is it you seek here on Obscura?”

“Allies. We’d be eternally grateful if you would join our fight against Zarkon. In return, we offer you and your planet protection from the Galran Empire.”

Ifrit and Marid stopped ten feet away from the paladins. A crackling noise sounded from the back of Marid’s throat, a smile curling at the corner of their mouth. Ifrit matched their partner’s smile, “Perhaps, we will accept your offer. However, we have a condition we’d like you and your companions to complete before we agree to join you.”

“What is this…condition?”

“We ask that you and your companions join us on our migration to our temple, so the ancients may bestow a celestial blessing upon each of you.”

“A celestial blessing? Allura, I’m not so sure about this. We weren’t even supposed to-” Keith began but was immediately shushed by Coran.

“This is a magnificent opportunity! I’ve read that receiving a blessing from the Djinn is a thing that could only be dreamed about! We simply can’t pass this up, Princess!” He clasped his hands together, giving his best impression of a begging puppy. “Please?”

Allura glanced over the faces of the other paladins, her eyes holding her question.

Did they wish to go through with this?

Pidge adjusted her glasses, “I kind of want to learn a bit more about the people here.”

“I’m in,” Lance said, cocking his hip to the side, “Where I come from, blessings are good.”

Keith sighed through his nose before grumbling, “Fine. What could go wrong?”

The last paladin looked nervous but nodded, “Alright. I don’t feel so good about this though…”

Allura turned back to the High Priest, “We accept your condition.”

“Thank you, Princess. My people are most appreciative,” Ifrit lifted their hands up on either side of themself. At the action, the rest of the Djinn slowly came into view as they warmed their bodies and greeted the paladins with cheers before turning and starting the hike towards a distant mountain that seemed so large it disappeared into the thick clouds that were swarmed above it. The High Priest motioned for the team to come before following after their people. Marid’s smile grew, but they didn’t utter a word. They turned and began to hike along as well, Coran urging the paladins to go on ahead of him while promising to catch up–someone needed to lock up the castle after all.

The journey to the mountain ended up taking two days, followed by an additional day spent waiting for Coran to arrive. Once he caught up to them, the team and their Djinn companions finally entered the giant gates built at the base of the sacred mountain. As soon as the stone and wooden gates creaked open, revealing the gorgeous architectural feat that was this temple carved into the side of the mountain, the team was blown away.

“Oh, wow… It… This all looks like what the Mayans built back on Earth, doesn’t it, Lance?” Hunk mumbled in awe, chestnut brown eyes drinking in their surroundings as they all began to ascend the mile long set of stairs to enter the temple.

“Yeah… Think the Djinn ever visited Earth and taught them how to build this kind of thing?” Lance questioned.

“I’drathernotthinkaboutthat!” Hunk visibly shivered as his face paled mildly.

Pidge frowned, “Actually, I’m not so sure that could’ve happened. I haven’t seen a single piece of modern technology on these guys. Can’t exactly make contact with an alien civilization if you have no way to leave the planet.”

“My people have no need to create technology,” Ifrit spoke up from behind them, causing the three of them to whip around in surprise and stumble over the steps before righting themselves. The High Priest continued as if they didn’t just startle the three paladins. “The ancients provide all that we need.”

Pidge raised a skeptical brow, “All you need, huh? What about defense against the Galra? If we hadn’t shown up…”

Ifrit’s secretive, confident smile caused her to trail off into silence. “Tell me, Paladins. How did you know to come to our aid?”

“…What do you mean?” Hunk asked slowly.

“My people don’t have the technology to send for help. How did you know we required your assistance?”

The three paladins exchanged confused looks before Pidge answered. “We showed up by chance. We were set to visit Herathia, but when we made the jump, the wormhole malfunctioned. When we popped out here, we saw your planet surrounded. Of course, you needed help.”

All of them were stopped on the stairs now, other people simply walking around them. Lance’s brows furrowed, his eyes on Ifrit’s. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Crackling, similar to how Marid’s had sounded before, came from Ifrit’s throat before they stated, “The ancients provide all that we need.”

The three’s eyes followed in shocked silence as Ifrit continued up the steps. Hunk leaned close to Lance once the High Priest was far enough away and whispered, “Dude, their laugh is so weird.”

Lance couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face, “That noise is supposed to be a laugh? It sounds like someone wringing out an empty plastic bottle.”

Hunk curled forward and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he shook with laughter, trying to keep it quiet.

A giggle slipped out of Pidge that she quickly stifled. “C’mon, guys. We need to keep going.”

They begrudgingly started up the stone steps once more, picking up their pace to catch back up with Keith and Allura. The pair had set out quickly, so by the time they caught up, Allura and Keith were already at the top, conversing with Ifrit while they waited for the others. Marid stood at Ifrit’s side, silent as ever. Lance didn’t want to admit how unnerved he was about how the other Jinni hadn’t talked once during their journey.

Pidge sat down as soon as she reached the last step, releasing an exaggerated groan. Hunk joined her, laying back on the ground. He asked, “Are we staying up here for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to walk back yet.”

“I never wanna walk again,” Lance said as he sat down on Hunk’s other side. A thin hand placed itself on his head from behind, causing Lance to twist around to see who it was. Marid offered him a small smile before removing their hand only to use it to motion that he follow them. Lance stood, glancing over to Allura and Keith. Allura nodded to him, assuring him it was something he should do. Keith looked mildly uncomfortable but stiffly moved to follow as well. He nudged Hunk gently with the toe of his boot along the way, “C’mon, big guy.”

Hunk groaned but stirred in order to get up. Pidge frowned, “What about me?”

“You’ll be staying with me,” Allura answered before turning to Coran, “You, however, will be joining them.”

“Splendid!” Coran jogged to catch up to Keith, Lance, and Hunk as Marid led them into the temple. They all slowed as the heavy, stone doors opened for them seemingly on their own. The inside of the temple didn’t appear to be any different than most underground caves they’d been in before except for one detail: the walls were lit by the soft, white glow of paint; closer inspection revealed that the paint was intricately designed, depicting looming, featureless figures with blank eyes that, though stationary, seemed to track their every move as they walked further into the temple. The group gaped in unabashed awe as they were lead deeper inside.

Lance paused in front of one of the figures, finding it to be strangely familiar. He felt the ridiculous urge to reach up and touch it, but somehow, he managed to keep his hands to himself. Instead, he spoke up to grab their escort’s attention, “Marid, what are these?”

Marid paused, turning towards him. They didn’t say anything but made their way to Lance’s side to stare up at the figure he had stopped in front of. The rest of the group slowly wandered over as well. Marid raised their hands, sliding their chilled fingers into the chestnut locks of Lance’s hair as they gripped his head. Lance’s eyes widened, “Um?”

Marid made a show of closing their black eyes slowly. Lance nervously closed his eyes, his mind suddenly assaulted with several images of writhing, dark figures amongst the vastness of space. His whole body tensed, but he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. The dark figures began to chant inside of his head in a tongue he had no hope of ever understanding. Their empty eyes glowed as they reached out to him, but a low growl at the back of his mind kept them at bay. A smile flitted over Lance’s lips as he mentally thanked his lion for her concern and assured her that he was okay. He opened his eyes as Marid’s fingers slid away. Marid smiled before glancing up at the painted figure. Lance felt the air rush from his lungs as realization hit him.

“These…are the ancients Ifrit talked about,” he whispered.

Marid’s smile grew before they turned and continued down into the caverns. Lance noticed that more Djinn had joined them in walking through the temple during the time his eyes were closed. Hunk pressed close to his side, asking in excited whispers about what had just happened. Despite trying to seem uninterested, Keith walked closer as they continued after Marid to listen in as well. Lance filled them in on what happened, and Coran seemed especially interested. Lance had to cut his retelling short, however, for they were led into a narrower tunnel leading to a small cavern. The only thing in the space was a stone slab bearing bowls filled with a cloudy, unknown liquid.

Marid picked up one of the bowls, the glowing, white substance within hardly stirring with how viscous it was. Their eyes settled on Keith before they lifted a hand, beckoning him to step forward. Keith did so, the temporary black paladin seeming to know what was going to happen as he closed his eyes. Marid dipped two of their fingers into the bowl before lifting them to his face. Eyes narrowed and focused on their task, they drew rigid lines over his cheeks and forehead. Keith’s black-violet eyes blinked open when Marid finished. He stepped away to let someone else step up.

Coran bounded forward, letting Marid start on him. Lance slid over to Keith to look over his face. His lips parted around the breath that left him, “Woah…”

Keith’s mouth twisted into a nervous frown, “What?”

“It looks like your lion.”

Keith’s brows furrowed questioningly, “Red?”

“N-no. I mean the bl-”

“Shiro’s lion.”

“Yeah,” Lance mumbled lamely, choosing to look away and drop the conversation. Instead, he watched as Coran’s face was decorated in a different fashion. He snickered when it was complete, “Yours looks like a yupper, Coran.”

“I’ll have you know that yuppers are very loyal creatures,” Coran twirled his mustache as he moved out of the way for Hunk to place himself in front of Marid. Hunk’s face was finished soon enough, now covered with the lines of the yellow lion.

Lance clapped his shoulder as he passed, “Lookin’ good, buddy!”

Hunk’s brilliant grin was well worth the small compliment given, and Lance chose to ignore the fluttering just beneath his ribcage at the look. He stilled in front of Marid and closed his eyes. He flinched slightly when their cold fingers touched his skin, but he soon became relaxed as they worked. He had originally thought the gooey substance was going to feel gross, but he found that it was, surprisingly, similar in texture to his face masks. He ended up so relaxed that he didn’t even notice when his face was no longer being touched. Marid’s crackling laugh is what notified him of their absence.

Lance felt his face heat up as his eyes snapped open and embarrassment thrummed through him. He let loose a weak chuckle and turned back to the group. Trying to play it off casually as he rubbed the back of his neck; he cleared his throat and asked, “So, uh… What now?”

“We wait until we’re told to wipe this stuff off,” Keith muttered from where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“How do you know that?”

“Ifrit.”

“Is that what you and Allura were talking to him about?”

Keith nodded, “He told us what to expect.”

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Hunk frowned at him, crossing his own arms.

Keith sighed through his nose, “I guess. This stuff is kind of like a temporary tattoo. It’s supposedly symbolic of our individual journeys. Since we’re not natives, we only have to do our faces. These people do their entire bodies.”

“So that’s what that is,” Hunk inched over to Marid, looking over the black lines inked into their skin.

“It’s their life story,” Keith continued, shifting uncomfortably, “After ours are set, we’re going to join everyone else by some kind of pool that’s sacred to them and get our blessings.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Lance cocked his hip to one side.

“We each have to drop some blood in it and tell it something that we desire. If ‘the ancients’ approve, we’ll get what we ask for. If not, nothing happens.”

“Eck!” Hunk’s face twisted in disgust, “Blood? Why’s it gotta be blood?”

“I don’t know,” Keith rolled his eyes, “This is their thing. I’m not sure if I even believe anything’s going to happen.”

Marid frowned at that, obvious displeasure crossing their face, but their lips remained sealed. Keith averted his gaze sheepishly once he noticed the look, hunching his shoulders with an apology sitting on the tip of his tongue. Marid didn’t give him the chance to verbalize his thought, instead she picked up a piece of cloth from the table and turned to Hunk, using it to wipe the white goo from his face. Lance’s jaw dropped when he saw that the lines revealed under it were a vibrant yellow.

“Holy crow! That’s awesome!” He practically skipped over to Marid to have his removed next, then turned to the yellow paladin with a grin after Marid finished with him.

“Oh, man! That’s so cool! How much would you bet that Pidge is already planning on swiping some of this stuff for later?” Hunk grabbed Lance’s face, turning it this way and that to really get a gander at the now scarlet lines inked onto his skin.

“I bet she’s already squirreled some away. That gremlin,” Lance pushed Hunk’s hands away with a laugh.

The two of them watched as Marid removed Coran’s, revealing his color to be a light blue with pink undertones. Keith’s were violet, almost black, matching his eyes near perfectly. After that, they were given clothes to change into. Marid left them alone to do so, waiting at the end of the narrow tunnel with their back turned to the group.

“This is…” Keith’s nose scrunched up as he looked down at himself, “awful.”

The clothing was similar to what they’ve seen the rest of the Djinn wearing; sheer, clinging material that covered just enough to be decent. As it turns out, the cloth changed color on its own to match the skin tone of its wearer, something Hunk and Coran were fascinated with.

“We could totally try to reverse engineer this to blend in with surroundings. Maybe even make it look less like cloth on the skin? We could try to put these properties on something similar to our flight suits! Imagine! A cloaking device… not just your lion but for you!” Hunk practically had stars in his eyes at the possibilities.

“That’s a fantastic idea, number two! Maybe I could help design the suits? I was very fashion forward back in my day,” Coran smiled, chest puffing up proudly.

“Oh, yeah! Totally, Coran!”

Lance twisted around as he looked down at his body, trying to gauge how he looked. Eventually, he lifted his gaze to Keith and held his arms out to either side of himself, “What d’ya think? I look alright?”

“Why are you asking me?” Keith frowned, still feeling mildly self conscious, but his eyes trailed over Lance’s form quickly before retraining their gaze elsewhere.

“C’mon, Keith! I don’t wanna look bad for the ladies,” he waggled his eyebrows with a mirthful grin.

Keith scoffed before answering, “You look like you usually do. Just in weird clothes.”

“So handsome? Charming? A total catch that’s able to pull off weird, alien clothes? Awesome. Thanks, pal!” Lance laughed as Keith sputtered.

After everyone was dressed, Lance led the way up the tunnel to where Marid still stood waiting for them. The Jinni looked them all over, adjusting the clothes as they saw fit before leading the group away and into the deeper parts of the temple. It gradually grew darker the farther in they went. After several minutes, the group’s attention was drawn to a bright light at the end of the longer tunnel they had headed down. Marid’s pace sped up mildly, anticipation knitting their face as they drew closer. The paladins faltered once they exited the tunnel, mouths agape.

The tunnel spilled out into a rather large cavern, its walls lines with glowing, moss-like plants. Djinn already filled the area, but the crowd parted for them at their entrance, revealing a glistening waterfall in the center of the room spilling soundlessly from a large opening in the ceiling into a pool of silvery water lit by a ray of radiant sunlight from above. Marid tugged Lance’s arm lightly, hoping to keep them moving. Lance shook his head to get out of his stupor and stumbled forward. The others trailed behind, wide eyes still taking in everything that was to be seen.

Allura and Pidge were already kneeling at the water’s edge. Lance sat himself beside Allura, turning his head to take in the blue lion’s face marked onto her own. Leaning forward, he was able to glimpse the emerald lines of Pidge’s tattoo as well. Pidge caught him looking and smiled brightly, pointing to her face and then to his with raised brows. He grinned back, giving her thumbs up.

“My people!” Ifrit’s voice echoed from the other side of the pool, the crowd hushing immediately as their attention was drawn to their leader. “The time has come for the ancients to grant our saviors the greatest gift we could possibly offer. Paladins of Voltron, may the ancients provide for you.”

The Djinn surrounding them began to stomp their feet rhythmically as Ifrit circled around the pool toward where Coran sat, just opposite of Lance. Once at Coran’s side, the High Priest offered him a thin blade. The rhythm of the masses quickened as Coran raised his hand to accept the knife. As soon as the chilled metal left Ifrit’s palm, the crowd stilled, leaving only silence to ring through the damp air.

“Thank you,” Coran mumbled, carefully scooting himself just a bit closer to the water’s edge. Taking a deep breath, he slid the knife quickly over his palm and held his cut hand out over the surface of the water. He closed his eyes, murmuring his wish beneath his breath. His blood dripped down and collided with the pool’s surface. As the water rippled, it flashed a deep blue before returning to its original silver color. Coran slowly retracted his hand and opened his eyes. After blinking a couple of times, he wiped the blade clean with his garments and passed it along to Hunk.

Hunk nervously took the tool, grimacing as he, too, sliced his palm and carried out the rest of the ceremony as Coran had just demonstrated. Lance waited patiently. From Hunk, it was passed to Pidge, then from Pidge to Allura. Lance, being close enough to listen in, heard what Allura wished for: to permanently defeat Emperor Zarkon and begin to bring peace to the universe. He couldn’t help the soft smile that touched his face. Allura met his eye as she handed him the knife, offering him her own smile as she whispered, “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

Lance took the knife, turning his attention to the pool of water before him. Despite the late order of his turn, he still hadn’t decided just what to wish for. There were several things he could easily pick. He could wish for miscellaneous things like proper skin care products or an actual cheeseburger, or he could ask for something heavier like what Allura had wished for. His mouth twisted into a pout as he considered the possibilities, eyes trailing to the simplistic knife in his hand. It was sleek, sharp, and entirely black. He needed to cut himself and just make a request already. His mind wandered to his fellow companions.

He had no idea what it was Coran could’ve asked for. Hunk probably asked for something food-related-he’d been having trouble getting burgers to come out right with the alien ingredients he’d collected so far. Pidge most definitely wished to find her missing family members. Keith was probably going to wish for Shiro back with how he’d been since the black paladin’s disappearance. As he turned those ideas over in his mind, he absentmindedly slit his palm. He closed his eyes slowly as he stretched his hand out over the water. He would just go with the first thing that hit him.

“I wish I could speak to my family again…” the blue paladin found himself whispering. He opened his eyes, retracting his hand before cleaning the blade on the sheer cloth covering him, as the others did before him, and passed it to Keith.

If Keith had heard Lance’s wish, he didn’t comment on it. He quickly did what he needed to do and made his wish. The words were rushed, but Lance heard them all the same.

“I wish to find Shiro.”

Lance had to purse his lips to keep himself from shouting to the world that he just knew Keith was going to ask for that.

Ifrit walked to Keith, taking the knife from him, and thus, the ceremony was complete. Ifrit thanked the paladins and confirmed that they would do all they could for the coalition when the time came. Marid pressed their cheek affectionately against Ifrit’s, before they led the group to gather the clothes they’d came in. Then, the paladins were escorted from the temple grounds and back toward the Castle of Lions, as the Djinn were due to stay at their temple for a few seasons to worship the ancients.

None of them mentioned their wishes after they left the planet. As time passed, most of them seemed to forget about the ceremony entirely until the day Keith actually did find Shiro. Keith was a mess upon getting back to the hangar. Tears stained his cheeks as he lugged Shiro’s unconscious body out of the lion’s jaw and towards the medbay.

Everyone decided that it was just how determined Keith had been to find Shiro. He had put most of his effort into finding the black paladin, and it had paid off. There was no possible way that it was their wishes being granted. At least not until Pidge found her brother.

“It’s just my brother, though,” Pidge crossed her arms with a frown, “I asked to find my dad too.”

Everyone else had glanced uncertainly between each other but decided to pass it off as the green paladin also giving it her all to find her family. Hard work and luck; that’s all it was.

Then, there was Lotor joining their side. Zarkon was killed and officially ruled dead. Pidge found her father. Her father took messages from the paladins back to Earth. Keith’s wish. Allura’s wish. Pidge’s wish. Even Lance’s wish. They were all granted. Not granted in the ways they thought they’d be, but they were provided nonetheless, even with their downsides: Keith had left Team Voltron, feeling he no longer had a place amongst them, not even at Shiro’s side; the Galra Empire was a mess of revolts, numerous Galra furious and unwilling to bow to Lotor as their new emperor; Pidge’s father left for Earth almost as soon as she had gotten him back, as her brother and she knew they needed to stay behind for the good of the universe; and Lance wasn’t able to talk to his family directly or hear their voices. He supposed a pass-along message was better than none, but it hurt to know he couldn’t see them. He regretted not making his wish more specific.

Coran ended up getting his wish not too long after. He ran into the common area in tears, holding a tablet that acted as a photo album that he had thought was long gone. Allura hugged him tight before they all sunk down onto the couches to listen to him regale tales about the people and places in each picture. It was the first time in a long time they felt so close to one another.

Later that night, Lance approached Hunk’s room and knocked on his door lightly. He didn’t want to wake the yellow paladin if he was sleeping. However, he didn’t need to worry after all, for the door slid open moments after Lance had knocked. Hunk’s brows raised in mild surprise before he stepped back to allow Lance inside. Lance stepped past him, and the doors whirred as they closed behind him.

“Hey,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

“What’s up, Lance? Something wrong?” Hunk asked, sitting down on the floor beside his bed.

Lance shook his head before sitting down beside him, leaning back against the bed. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I just… was wondering about something.”

Hunk was quiet for a moment before asking, “What about?”

“What did you wish for back on Obscura?”

The yellow paladin seemed taken aback by the question. “I-isn’t it like bad luck to tell other people what you wished for? Isn’t that a thing? Tell someone, and the wish won’t come true or something?”

“C’mon, Hunk. The rest of us got our wishes. I just wanna make sure my best bud gets his too.”

Hunk bit into his lower lip nervously, averting his gaze as he thought it over before letting his lip go with a sigh. “Okay…but I don’t want you looking at me when I say it.”

“What?”

“It’s embarrassing. Just close your eyes, Lance.” Hunk frowned, chestnut eyes turning their attention back to the blue paladin.

Lance rolled his eyes but closed them as he’d been asked to. He tried to wait patiently, but the minutes seemed to stretch on. He was just opening his mouth to complain when he felt a pair of hands cup his face and guide him into a soft, hesitant kiss. His eyes snapped open the instant Hunk’s warm mouth pressed over his. His heartbeat thudded wildly against his ribs as a pleasant shiver passed through him. Well, he certainly wasn’t against this. He’d be lying if he said he never thought of doing the same thing before. Hunk’s body felt tense when Lance finally allowed himself to relax into his hold. He let his eyes slip back closed as his lips moved to reciprocate the sweet attention they were receiving.

Hunk was the one to pull away first after a minute, eyes half lidded before widening comically. He scrambled back, beginning to stammer out an apology. Lance’s brows knit together in confusion, “Woah! Calm down. It’s okay…” Lance insisted.

“No, really. We don’t have to speak about this ever again. I-I don’t know what came over me!”

“Hunk!” Lance launched himself forward at the retreating person and grabbed his face, squishing it between his palms, “Listen to me.” Hunk stilled, timid gaze on his. Lance continued, “I’m not gonna lie… I actually really liked that.”

“You did?”

“Shush. Lancey Lance is talking.”

“Sorry-”

“Would you stop apologizing?” Lance frowned before sighing and dropping his hands from Hunk’s face to run one through his hair nervously. “I-is… Was that even the slightest bit related to what you asked for on Obscura…?”

Hunk swallowed nervously, wringing his hands together, “I think? I… I’ve liked you for a while now, Lance. At first, I thought how I felt was just because you’re my best friend. Thought it was normal…until I got closer with Pidge, and she made me realize that how I feel for you is different than just…You know…”

“Oh,” Lance breathed, “What was it that you asked for exactly…?”

“I…wished that you would find your ‘Mrs. Blue Lion’?” A heavy blush coated Hunk’s cheeks, “Felt I could do my bro a solid if nothing else.”

Lance stared for a moment before his eyes screwed shut, laughter wracking his body without warning. As soon as he was able to, he opened his eyes and pulled Hunk into another kiss. Hunk breathed in sharply through his nose at the action but, ultimately, melted into it only for Lance to break it. The smile Lance wore was the softest Hunk’s ever seen him wear.

“Thank you,” Lance whispered, a hair’s width away from his lips still. He meant it. Out of everything Hunk could’ve possibly wished for, he wasted his wish on him of all people. Lance couldn’t help but feel utterly special in this boy’s presence. Butterflies swarmed in his belly, and his heart skipped and stuttered. He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to Hunk’s lips right as the door slid open again.

“Hey, Hunk! I-”

They ripped away from each other quickly, turning to stare wide-eyed at the intruder. Pidge stilled, the light playing off her glasses just right so that they couldn’t make out her exact expression. She slowly lifted the orange, holographic communicator that she had clutched in her hand. A flash momentarily blinded them before she turned tail and ran as fast as she could.

“PIDGE!” Both the yellow and blue paladin leapt into action, racing out the door after her.

They didn’t end up catching her, but Lance and Hunk knew that this night was only the beginning of their newly formed relationship. They could only look forward to what the future might have in store for them. In the end, wishes really do come true.

#hance #prompt #my writing #irethsune

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