#IDK HOW I GOT HERE

[hemi-demi]

[pyjamacryptid]

I’m not sure how I got here but I’ve been thinking about the intimacy and devotion of washing another’s hair, the hair of someone you care for (how unconditional a gesture it is) and I then thought of Merlin doing it for Arthur.

It’s not in the job description (a lot of what Merlin does for Arthur is not in the job description) and it’s unlikely something that started his first day as Arthur’s servant. Nor the second or the 20th or by the 6th month. Arthur may be a prince, a prattish one at that, but when it comes to his baths he only expects of Merlin what he expects of any manservant - call for the tub, draw the water, lay out a towel, place fresh clothes close by and so on. But, naturally, he’s also a prince that commands the knights and with training comes injuries. Perhaps an arm was dislocated and he’s on strict orders from Gaius not to utilise it, and definitely not to reach above his head. Later that same day Arthur sits in the bath and realises too late he can’t tend to his own hair. But he doesn’t call Merlin over from where he’s making the bed. He tries to do it himself. He’s still got one working arm, after all.

Arthur only knows how to command things be done. He doesn’t know how to ask for things. He doesn’t yet know that asking isn’t weakness.

But he can’t hide his struggling from Merlin, who’s more mother hen than manservant.

“Here, let me,” he says, suddenly behind Arthur, “before you lose all the bathwater and your arm, both.”

“I don’t need your help, Merlin.”

“Of course not, sire. Now, pass me the hair oil.”

“Excuse me, who is it that gives the orders here?”

“You, sire. The hair oil.”

“…”

“Thank you. Right, hold still. I said hold still—“

After, Arthur will wonder why he ever thought Merlin would be anything but gentle. After, Arthur will wonder when his eyes closed and why they feel a little wet, especially as Merlin took great care to catch anything before it fell in Arthur’s face.

Over time, a stool begins to sit beside the bath, whenever it’s drawn. Over time, Arthur will notice Merlin’s fingers never grow any less gentle (even when he knows his manservant is angry with him). Over time, Arthur will want to ask why Merlin added washing his hair to his list of jobs indefinitely, long after his arm healed, but is afraid he’ll only prompt Merlin to stop because it’s not a job at all. Over time, Arthur will wonder what oils Merlin uses on his own hair, if he has access to hair oil at all, and how his cropped hair might feel to touch.

[sand-boxed]

false paradise

[justaz]

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance “like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.

[diospore]

Working on a color ref of AFO and somehow his eyes ended up pink? and I kinda like it, halfway between red and white.

[aster-ish]

Procrastinating homework. Started off designing a quick oc for a storyboarding assignment, accidentally ended up with Blues Protoman Light as some kinda posh morally grey detective/gun for hire from the 60s.

[crystallizsch]

AYO????

DA HERTA????

[wyrdle]

Simon x OC shenanigans

I might or might not be very into this old man yaoi lol. Let them be happy and all that jazz hehe.

[axeofsuns]

Sometimes life gives you a hotel room full of screaming kids and frozen dinners that need to be ate

And you wonder what you must have done in a past life to get here

[messrsrarchives]

writing my first actual smut scene right now and my face keeps going 🤭 -> 😟 -> 😖 -> 😄 -> 🤭 -> 😟

[a-new-nobody]

OOC Important post!

Hi! This account is going to start delving into some very heavy topics of SH in the future. Keep in mind this will also be seen through the eyes of the person engaging in the action so it will be seen in a more positive light then it is. Please make sure you take care of yourself, and if you have thoughts of SH 1. disengage from my posts, take a breath, and come back when you're ready. Remember that this story is fictional and Diamond doesn't need saving, you're safety is much more important then theirs. They will be alright and they will be here whenever/if ever you're ready to return. 2. talk to a friend, family member, or doctor about your thoughts. In no way are my posts an encouragement or endorsement of SH, they are meant to show a (semi) realistic pretrial of someone who has gone through a lot of horrible experiences. SH is not a solution, in fact it will make a lot of it worse.

[daylesspax]

A Prowl who likes doing art

It’s not anything fancy, but it calms him to go through a tutorial and copy the movements and master the technical elements to make it look good. The calculations for the angle and slope of each stroke of pencil or brush is easy but not boring and the there’s a subtle thrill in cycling through different art styles and techniques that require slight tweaks in thinking to accomplish

And for a while it works for him, drawing in his pass times to cycle down from a long work day

Until the war rolls around and Praxus is bombed

He doesn’t pick up a stylus in a while. He copes with work and more work until he’s too busy to think about grief, the future, or the past

It isn’t until after the war, where there’s no new big battle to distract him

It overwhelms him for a while and he develops paranoia, stuck in the midsts of a battle that has long passed

Optimus advises him to go into therapy

It’s Rung, obviously. The first few sessions garner little, but eventually, he asks if Prowl ever had and hobbies

Prowl’s instinct is to say no. But he thinks, and remembers when he used to do art. All kinds of art. He confesses this with reluctance. Rung simply smiled and asked about what he did.

They talk about art and they end the session with Rung recommending that Prowl start doing art again

Prowl does, eventually. He gets a blank datapad and a good stylus.

He tried doing it the same way he did before— scrolling through a library of tutorials and speedpaints, picking one, and following it to the decimal. But it doesn’t give the same satisfaction as before.

He starts getting frustrated. Deleting and undoing and adjusting individual lines and strokes until he closed the program and threw the stylus.

It takes a long time before he tries again. This time with a different approach. He selects a different video this time, one discussing… other things while they constructed their art piece. In the video, they discuss expression and putting yourself into your work. It wasn’t all about making it look pretty or just doing it one way.

It takes even longer for Prowl to deviate from his usual copy-paste style. Line start extending purposefully beyond where they’re meant to stop. Still-lifes look like architectural pieces with numbers sketched above the straight lines. Prowl develops a geometric artstyle, purely in black, white, and red. His values are represented in cross-hatching and organic forms are broken down into comprehensible shapes of triangles, hexagons, and rhombuses

Prowl starts enjoying art again

[restinslices]

For how it seemed I should've stayed and let you be Run into my heart so carelessly That's the reason I'm afraid You're the thought that can't be tamed And I'm trying to be sane

[selins-drawings]

A sketch of Sportaflop and the speedpaint of it

[icarusredwings]

Idk how I bagged this baddie Im literally just audhd.

Things ive said to my wife pt. 1

She is a shrimp. Her poster is terrible.

Thanks barbie. Im actually infodump ken. My job is infodump.

I have zero complaints about this fate.

✨️They yearn for the odyssey civic scene ✨️

[lemoneon]

I think I just snorted something yo be able to shit this out from nowhere.

I zoned out the entire time I was drawing this