#also MY FAIR LANCEY

[thetisming]

im fucking screaming

[owl-by-night]

📚📖

Thank you for the ask :) In return you get ‘William de Lancey is a faerie’!

This was my attempt at a fixit fic for the ending of JS&MN because I really wanted them to get out of the darkness somehow and I also wanted my favourite William not to be killed at Waterloo. So how do we untangle it? What can break a faerie curse, except another bargain with a different kind of faerie?  

Bits of this got written so have some snippets.  We begin with Jonathan with his nose in a book, attempting to discover a way home:

Extract from the account of the Winter Court of the Raven King, translated by J Strange, magician.  

And so it was that the King made his prophecy and closed the doors unto England until such time as magic be needed there again. Yet still the King was troubled and did not sleep easily, even though his musicians played soft music and the maids of his chambers scattered sweet herbs upon the ground. 

The King, troubled again by wakefulness, called his council to him and said, 'I have sent my prophecy into the world of men, and with it my Book and the son of my son, who shall beget the Reader and who shall speak the words of my truth when I have acknowledged him, but still I am beset by dreams. I believe that the time of my return shall be when England is in peril, such that the North shall also be in peril. I dream of armed men and my prophecy torn asunder." 

Jonathan put down his pen and rubbed his eyes.  The light from the candle was fitful, and though there were neither days nor nights in the darkness, he felt that he had been awake too long.  The book before him was thick and dusty with ages, but he had hoped that within its pages he might find something, anything, that would show him a route home. 

“If only the language were not so tiresomely archaic,” he said to the empty library. Norrell had long since retreated to his own quarters. “I have said armed men but it could equally be Celts with swords, if that word even means Celt. It might be Scot, or any other tribe for all I know. Any northern man but we were not at war with the North.” 

The fire crackled, but did not answer. Jonathan sighed, and felt the sharp ache of longing for hearth and home and wife. 

“Another page before bed, then,” he said and picked up his pen once more. 

There was among the court a fair one, much in favour with the King, who came to him and said, “my Lord, my sleep is troubled also, for I see flames and battle as you do.” The King smiled upon him and said, “peace, for I have made it such that a warrior will stand between my prophecy and the flames.”

Yet though he was embraced by the King, the bright one would not be silent...

Jonathan stared at the word ‘embraced’ and wondered if he had the correct translation. It seemed a little... informal for courtly proceedings. Perhaps it meant something rather different. He drew a line beneath it, meaning to return and revise it when he had more context. There were many such notations and amendments to his text, either for accuracy or the accommodate Norrell’s sensibilities. 

“I have some gift of foresight and I have seen your warrior, but where I have seen him I have also seen flames and a gate bordered green with ivy. There shall your words be lost. Let me go there and be as a latch upon the gate. As I have been beloved of one lord, I shall be beloved of another.”

Jonathan paused over the word beloved. Could he, perhaps, argue that it was merely chivalric metaphor? It did rather call to mind the vices of the Greeks, such as he had gone searching for in his school books. To be beloved. A very different kind of heartache. 

His eyes drifted over the words again. Flames and a gate bordered green with ivy. It brought, with a shiver, the memory of Waterloo. The strands of ivy in his fingers and the formless, desperate magic. The men struggling at the gate. Could it... he scanned rapidly down the page. 

“You are born of faerie and cannot pass in the world of men too long. As I bear affection for you, do not tarry there.” 

“Then let me seeming die when my work is done. Then I shall return to you.”

A faerie there, at Waterloo. An impossibility, surely. Jonathan’s thoughts rebelled against him and returned, again, to the gate. The scent of ivy in his nose and De Lancey dead upon the ground. His bright hair caked in mud. 

Jonathan sat still. Surely he must be dreaming this. It was wishful thinking, or wild fantasy. The bright one, his own handwriting had set down not ten minutes ago. Was there nothing else to distinguish this man, if man he was? ‘Beloved of a lord’, well, Jonathan thought, that certainly explained something about Lord Wellington. He skimmed the text in search of something, anything to convince him that he was doing more than chasing at Marsh lights. 

He skimmed back over his previous notes and looked for evidence of this bright favourite of the King’s. He found mention of a ‘flame haired’ attendant who ‘delighted the King with his feats and dancing’. De Lancey had certainly danced well. He had also, on one memorable occasion, picked up assorted items from the table after supper and juggled them, although Jonathan doubted whether these would be considered feats worthy of entertaining a King. For a King such as Uskglass however, who enjoyed imprisoning magicians away from their wives and majors, perhaps even that might count. 

“His sense of humour,” Jonathan said bitterly to the empty room, “leaves something to be desired.” 

 Jonathan being Jonathan he decides to test his theory by summoning the faerie who may or may not have been masquerading as William during the battle of Waterloo:

Jonathan’s first attempts at summoning a faerie had not been altogether successful, but he felt that his later attempts with Norrell might have refined the technique. The flame sprang to life and Jonathan extinguished the taper with a breath. The room was empty. 

“Well this is good sport, Merlin,” said a voice behind him. 

Jonathan spun round, heart beating hard. Sitting cross legged on the desk was William De Lancey, or some approximation of him. The same face, although a little paler and thinner, with his cheekbones sharp beneath his skin. Not dissimilar to his appearance when Jonathan had last seen him, dead upon the battlefield. His hair, though, was a much more vibrant shade, like a leaf in autumn or the sun coming low and fiery between the trees. His eyes, too, burnt with a strange light of their own. He was dressed in breeches but his feet were bare and his shirt open to the waist. Jonathan wondered whether his lordship had been treated to this sight back in the peninsula and the absurdity of the thought steadied him against the prickle of fear. The creature was neither human nor safe. He was not an old friend to be greeted without reservation. 

The faerie watched him knowingly and smiled. The smile was not as kind as it had been. 

“An unexpected reunion,” he said. 

“Who are you?” Jonathan asked. 

“Hmm...” The faerie picked up a quill from the desk and pressed it to his mouth as if in thought. The gesture was familiar. “I suppose you might call me William.”

“That is not your name.”

“No, but I rather liked it.” 

“Was it your name before: did I know you?”

William leaned forward, bringing his face close to Jonathan’s. His lips were red and his teeth were sharp. “This is not how the game is played, my friend.  A deal must be struck.”

Jonathan felt his heart skip a beat. He had had enough of bargains. 

…..

“Do you have anything to drink?”

Jonathan remembered enough to know that drink was subject to as many rules as any bargain with faeries. “Can I offer it without any obligation on either side?”

“Clever, Merlin, you are learning.” 

“I have a bottle of brandy.”

“And I’ve apples, if you’ve a taste for them. You may eat them safely, in exchange.”

The fruit, which came from nowhere, was shining red and had crisp white flesh. The taste was unlike any apple in England - sweeter and sharper than any that could grow there. William sliced it with a wicked little knife. Jonathan found two clean glasses and poured. They settled by the fire, or at least Jonathan settled into a comfortable chair and the being calling himself William settled in a crouch before the flames. He looked like a cat, ready to spring into flight, though he drank in the careless manner of Jonathan’s old friend. 

In the end they agree on a bargain allowing William to kidnap the Duke of Wellington for a ball and in exchange tried to free Jonathan from the curse by working with Stephen. 

“This King of yours...” said Wellington, peering at him across the ballroom, “seems rather familiar but I’m sure I’d remember meeting such a peculiar fellow.”

“Did you ever visit Sir Walter Pole?” Jonathan asked. “He was for some time employed as Sir Walter’s butler.”

“Really?” Wellington raised his eyebrows a little. “Well, it is hardly the strangest thing I’ve seen tonight, eh Merlin?” This was his only comment, which Jonathan thought was an indication that he was dealing rather well with the peculiar nature of the entertainment.  To be invited to a ball in a strange land, where the guests wore dresses of shadows or starlight or insect wings, the food was like no other and the dances certainly never graced the ballrooms of the ton.... Really Wellington was coping very well. 

 It ends with a snippet of society scandal:

London society is delighted to note the return of the enigmatic Mr S— from ‘the other side of the rain’. His reappearance seems to have been just as unusual as his disappearance, coinciding as it did with several eminent magical scholars complaining that their books had been re-written and the kidnapping of the Duke of W- for a fortnight by apparently magical means. 

When asked to comment on his absence and the reappearance of Mr S-, his Grace was heard to say that he had attended a ball in the court of a king of faerie and met there an old friend who was very dear to him. When pressed he added that he had seen a dance performed for three partners which he thought quite unsuitable for the ton but gave no information on the part of Mr S-. 

Mr S- has retreated to his estate in the countryside and, we understand, intends to remain there with his wife for some time. We hope for his swift return to London so that we might learn more. 

[yayodancing]

Best of 2021. This year is only 50 because, honestly, rap really bored me this year and not a lot grabbed me outside of it. Yes, there were absolutely highlights this year, and had I not added WLR to my lists last year, I’d consider that album good enough to justify 2021 musically by itself. Nothing topped it, or really came close to it, though. We saw Carti’s most direct student, Mario Judah, who created his own WLR before Carti dropped, basically drop off the face of the earth; except for his biggest moment to date, arguably the best song to actually drop this calendar year, his unofficial remix of “Miss The Rage”, which was somehow better than the version Carti was on. Thankfully, in his stead, we got another brilliant student of Jordan Carter in Yeat; a kid who almost single-handedly carried the rest of the year.

No, my list doesn’t include RXK Nephew, because ODB and Lil Bisms are played out in 2021. Nor does it include Piano G, because between him and Lil Tjay, I never wanted to listen to rap playlists once in 2021. I also don’t need Armand Hammer in my life; I’ll just go listen to a DJ Clue mixtape if I want to hear mediocre rappers do things over late 90s grimy instrumentals

1. Playboi Carti - Slay3r

2. Mario Judah - I Miss The Rage

3. Baby Keem - Family Ties (feat. Kendrick Lamar)

4. Yeat - Get Busy

5. Lil Nas X - Industy Baby (feat. Jack Harlow)

6. Kanye West - Off the Grid (feat. Fivio Foreign & Playboi Carti)

7. Pierre Bourne - 4U

8. Nardo Wick - Who Want Smoke (feat. Lil Durk, 21 Savage & G Herbo)

9. LPB Poody - Batman

10. Young Nudy - Scott Evil

11. SoFaygo - Knock Knock

12. Doja Cat - Kiss Me More (feat. SZA)

13. Don Tolliver - Way Bigger

14. Billie Eilish - Oxytocin

15. Young Thug - Bubbly (feat. Travis Scott & Drake)

16. 21 Lil Harold - Freak Hoe

17. Dusty Locane - Rolando (Caught In The Rain)

18. Slowthai - DEAD

19. JPEGMafia- THOT’S PRAYER!

20. Isiah Rashad - From the Garden (feat. Lil Uzi Vert)

21. Travis Scott - Mafia

22. Duke Deuce - Duke Skywalker

23. Turnstile - Alien Love Call (feat. Blood Orange)

24. Westside Gunn - Hell On Earth (feat. Benny The Butcher)

25. Yves Tumor - Crushed Velvet

26. Sahbabbi - Bread Head

27. Lancey Foux - sweet!

28. ILoveMakonnen - Whoopsy (feat. payday)

29. Soulja Boy - Rick & Morty

30. RX Papi - Terry

31. Yung Fazo - Adding (feat. SoFaygo)

32. YBN Nahmir - Opp Stoppa (feat. 21 Savage)

33. Trippie Redd - Miss The Rage (feat. Playboi Carti)

34. 454 - Kobe

35. Tyler, the Creator - Massa

36. EST Gee - 5500 Degrees (feat. Lil Baby, 42 Dugg & Kylo Rodriguez)

37. Bia - Can’t Touch This

38. Kodak Black - Z Look Jamaican

39. Cico P - Tampa

40. Drake - Fair Trade (feat. Travis Scott)

41. City Girls - Twerkulator

42. Chief Keef - Harley Quinn

43. Guapdad 4000 - How Many

44. Valee - y (feat. Z Money)

45. Rooga - GD Anthem

46. Maxo Kream - Big Persona (feat. Tyler, the Creator)

47. Wizkid - Essence (feat. TEMS)

48. 21 Savage - Knife Talk (feat. A Project Pat Sample & Drake)

49. Lil B - RIP Lil Peep Based Freestyle

50. Abra - Unlock It (feat. Playboi Carti)

[cielospeaks]

so it occurred to me that heck everything, im doing my own rewrite lb6 thing (which maybe isnt fair bc it isnt even out yet but heck that)

so it was bc i was listening to prince herberts song by chance and realized that not only sir robin, but herbert, patsy, the french taunter, tim, ect.... wont ever appear in go and that made me sad. theyre like the best characters. so i was like fuckit they can be in lostbelt w robin

maybe everyone has been taken over by beryl and the other lostbelt characters(?) the later crypters group? idk. sir robin maybe ran away (maybe? of course he did) and thats why he’s safe, he meets up with chaldea group but as a npc. bedi, arthy, and mashu are at the lead- mashu is still insecure bc of how rude fate!galahad is. but bedi and arthy reassure her she’s doing fine. dadcelot is also there (berserker. maybe saber too).

instantly sir robin recognizes lancelot’s armor, and possibly afterwards proceeds to soil his own armor due to how intimidating zerkerlot is. but when mashu and bedi approach, he recognizes them too and joins up with them all. hes like the scared anime boy like binji kun who gets better in like episode 15.

the group continues on and runs into herbert, whos controlled by the bad guys. but seeing lancelot (under his helmet?) snaps him out of it with the power of love(tm) and he instantly joins chaldea. maybe he looks a little like roman and it makes lancey and mashu a little unnerved, mostly lancey surprisingly enough, who is reminded of how much he misses roman, on top of feeling bad hes not the lancelot that herbert knew and loved.

i havent worked out how the others are recruited. i think arthy reunites w patsy and notices him finally, which snaps him out of the mind control (+ a good old fashioned boss fight). patsy is a rider, maybe herbert is a caster? tim is obvs a caster. french taunter is a ruler bc he has the grail, hes already got one you see, and unfortunately probably 5 star. rip. maybe sir robin is a rider or caster, or maybe one of the knights classes. maybe black knight is also there bc hes so iconic, but i associate zerkerlot w the closest to black knight well get in the game ;w;

i dont know what beryl does nor do i care. maybe setanta is there too? hes like the guy whos like “dont be afraid binji kun i mean sir robin”

[caeruleis]

@unladylikc

" Oh, Lancey-poo! Perfect timing! " With a grin, she quickly hurries over, giving him a circular box wrapped in blue pastel paper with dark blue butterfly stickers slapped on. " Ta-dah! I remember you saying you liked cheesecake, so I made one that's matcha white chocolate. Of course, I had help from Mercie, which is why the shape is so cute, but it should still taste super yummy. Anyways, this is thanks... for always being my friend! Let's keep working hard, so we can graduate together, okay? "

Valentine’s Day Asks || Feel free to turn into threads!

                                                           ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ― ☽ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

     He’s not unaccustomed to getting sweets on this day. Despite what he thinks of himself, he’s always been rather popular. The same remains true, even now, when he’s surrounded by nobles and the children of wealthy merchants - he has a certain charm about him that naturally draws others to him without much effort on his part. Coupled with the fact that he’s generally a kind person, and how nearly the entire academy had seen him so quickly take control of the situation that had happened in the cafeteria a few weeks back, it made him fairly popular. Which meant he had already received a handful of heartfelt letters and boxes of chocolates from some of the other students, and though he enjoyed sweets, he did try to decline them after first few times - not wanting the food to go to waste. But it was surprising how stubborn the others could be, and he gave in rather easily - leaving him with a small pile of letters and sweets in the corner of his room that he had little idea of what he was going to end up doing with all of them. Still, those who had sought him had worked on them so he would so his best to ensure he, at the very least, tried one piece from each of them. For now, though, he left them be - putting them out of mind while he took a walk about the campus. The cool breeze tickling at strands of dark hair as he inhales against the wind. It was a shame Vane hadn’t been able to attend the academy with him. If he had, he could have continued in their tradition of sharing the chocolates he was given. 

      He shakes his head at the thought. No, he was here because he had something he wanted to accomplish - something he needed to prove, not to enjoy himself or make friends. Not that the latter two weren’t important to him, of course, but he wished to do justice by his own beliefs and honor the people he had left behind to come here. But the sound of his name - or, well, his nickname that he was still struggling to get used to - takes him away from such thoughts, and he stops where he is so Vivian can reach him with ease. A smile in greeting slipping onto his smooth lips. “Oh, Vivian, it’s good to see you in such high spirits.” Especially given the whole ordeal she had gone through, though it was honestly difficult to tell with how quickly Professor Manuela had managed to reach her, and heal her nose. Though his attention is drawn to the box that she offers him - pastel wrapping speckled in butterfly skies about a round box, and his eyes widen briefly in surprise before his expression softens once more. He gingerly accepts the box from her, holding it against his chest to ensure the cake inside doesn’t get tossed upon in the exchange or by the nip of the wind. With everything that had happened that day, he had almost managed to forget they had even had that conversation, which makes it all the more impressive that she had held onto that information. 

        “You have my thanks for keeping me in mind, and for going out of your way to do something like this for me.” He tips the lid of the box back just a tad so he can take a look at the cheesecake, if only to see what she means by the ‘cute’ shape thing, before he looks back over at her once more. “I have no doubt that it’s delicious, and I’m looking forward to having a bite of it. And, don’t worry, I’ll make certain I keep working hard so we can graduate together.” Of all of the sweets he had been gifted by the other students today, Vivian’s was certainly the most thoughtful, and he might just cherish hers the most, but he’s much too kind of admit such a thing out loud. “Thanks for always being your friend, huh? Well, I happen to know what would make this already yummy-looking cake taste even better.” He flashes her a grin. “Sharing it with a friend. So, what do you say, Vivian, would like you join me for a slice? You put so much work into making this that’s only fair you also get to try it. At least, that’s what I believe.”         

[sideofwritingsandramblings]

Day 17: Hypothetical

For @sheithmonth prev / on ao3 / next July 17th - Eighteen

Keith stood back, admiring his handiwork, chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all. The fact that he had taken a fighter jet all the way back to Earth to get real roses had been a bit overkill, but it was worth it for the aesthetic. Candles, rose petals, new silky sheets, and even some peaceful music playing from a tablet in the background. It was practically the stereotypical romantic honeymoon suite he’d seen in movies.

But, he supposes for their eighteenth wedding anniversary, his husband deserved all the sappy romantic treatment he could get for the night. Keith sighed, stretching his arms above his head and smiling. Their anniversary was technically tomorrow, but Keith supposed starting a little early and staying up till midnight would be a great way to start it.

Shiro should be getting back soon enough. Keith had asked him to grab some supplies from a nearby planet to bring back to their main ship.

Keith put a hand on the wall, reminiscing a bit. The ship they had bought from a junker eight years ago had needed a lot of work. But with some time, salvaged parts, and elbow grease, they had turned the ship into a real home. And they’d been traveling the universe together ever since.

Keith walked out of the room and moved to wait in their kitchen. He paused as he passed by the empty guest room. They had a few different ones on the ship but this one was closest to their room.

They had often talked about how they would turn it into a nursery, if or when kids came into the picture. Keith’s heart twisted a bit in his chest. As time had gone by he’d slowly warmed up to the idea of having kids, because he knew Shiro would be a great father. And Keith was starting to think he could be a good father too. But as more and more time went by, the idea of setting down roots somewhere to raise a kid wasn’t that appealing to them.

Not to mention, they weren’t getting any younger. Although… they weren’t getting that much older either. Keith had learned early on from Krolia that his Galran heritage would increase his lifespan by a fair amount. That had scared Keith at first. Of Shiro getting older faster than him. That is until they realized Haggar had inadvertently done two surprisingly good things for Shiro: cured him of his illness and increased his lifespan as well. Shiro and Keith were both well into their 40s but they both looked no older than 30.

So, in all honesty, kids still weren’t out of the question but…

Keith shook his head. Now was certainly not the time. This was about his and Shiro’s marriage. Kid talk could come later.

Keith continued on his way to the kitchen, opening their fridge and pulling out the champagne bottle he’d been chilling. He also pulled open the cupboard and grabbed two wine glasses and set them out on the counter.

As if on cue, he heard Shiro’s ship dock in the hanger and Keith sat down on one of the kitchen stools to wait.

The door slid open and Keith smiled as Shiro tried to bring in all the supplies he’d bought in one trip. He had one large bag in his human hand and another five hung precariously on his Altean arm.

“Need some help?” Keith asked, watching Shiro try to close the door behind him.

“No no, I got it,” Shiro replied, obviously struggling.

Keith rolled his eyes, standing from the stool and crossing over to grab a few bags off of his Altean arm, “Stubborn.”

“Yeah,” Shiro smiled, stooping down a little to press a quick kiss to Keith’s lips, “Hey babe.”

“Hey yourself.”

A burst of light and a single bark was all the warning they got before Cosmo appeared beside Keith. Luckily, Cosmo knew better than to jump when they were holding supplies, but it didn’t stop all 200 pounds of him from trying to nuzzle up to Shiro anyways.

“Hi buddy,” Shiro laughed, finally placing the supplies down on the floor next to the counter, and answering the space wolf’s demands.

Keith watched his husband get down on his knees as Cosmo rolled over onto his back, so that Shiro could pet his soft stomach. He really was hard to deny when he used his puppy eyes.

Eventually, Cosmo was done hogging all of the attention and went to lie down in the living room and Shiro and Keith set about putting away everything Shiro had bought. Once that was done Keith stood next to the counter and Shiro came up from behind him to wrap his arms around his waist.

“And what’s this?” Shiro asked, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice.

Keith picked up the champagne bottle and the opener, “I just thought we could start the celebration a little early.”

“Sounds good to me,” Shiro replied, moving Keith’s braid so that he could press a kiss to the back of his neck.

Keith turned to look back at him, “Good, then help me carry this back to our room?”

“Of course.”

Shiro grabbed the two empty glasses and together they walked down the hall and back toward the bedroom. Keith made sure to let Shiro walk just a little bit ahead of him so that he could see Shiro’s reaction. Shiro pressed the button for the door and as it slid open he watched his husband’s face light up in delight.

“Keith,” He turned to him with a goofy smile, and Keith couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“Like it?”

“I love it,” Shiro stressed, entering the room, setting the glasses down on their nightstand, and immediately jumping into bed.

“Ohh, are these new sheets? They’re so soft!”

Keith couldn’t stop smiling as he set the champagne and bottle opener down on the table as well and plopped down on the bed beside him.

“Are these rose petals real? ”

Keith nodded and the next thing he knew Shiro was pulling him into his arms. Keith went easily and settled against him.

“I love you,” Shiro said, hugging him tightly.

“I love you too,” Keith immediately replied, leaning forward to kiss Shiro properly.

They took a few moments simply to enjoy the closeness, but eventually Keith pulled back and sat up so that they could have their drinks. Keith popped it open and poured out the glasses, leaning over to pass Shiro his. They settled back against the headboard, sitting close.

“To eighteen years,” Shiro said, offering his glass.

Keith clinked his glass to Shiro’s, “To eighteen years.”

For a while they sat enjoying their drinks and just talked. At one point Shiro collected some of the rose petals on the bed only to then let them go over Keith’s head. Keith shook his head as petals rained down, and he shot Shiro a glare but with no real malice. Shiro only laughed, setting aside his glass so that he could kiss Keith again.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot,” Shiro said, “While I was getting supplies on that planet, a couple of kids recognized me. One of them even had a figurine of me that he had me sign. It must have been pretty old because it was designed with my Galran prosthetic.”

“Yeah? Are you getting nostalgic old-timer?” Keith teased.

Shiro hummed, “Yeah, a little. I don’t miss the fighting or the hours long meetings or almost dying. But I do sometimes miss all of the paladins together. I even miss the crew on the Atlas.”

“Do you want to go back?” Keith asked, “To Earth I mean? We could take a break from traveling for a while?”

“No, no,” Shiro immediately replied, “I want to stay out here. I love exploring the universe with you Keith. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. But I guess I miss all that activity? I don’t know, it’s a bit hard to put into words. Maybe short visits to Earth and New Altea would be nice, but I certainly wouldn’t want to stay too long.”

“What, you don’t want to listen to Lance talk about the Lancey Lance Jr.(s) all the time?” Keith asked, only half joking.

Allura and Lance had welcomed their fourth child two years ago, and little Lily and her older siblings were all Lance ever talked about. He was a doting and very proud father which, while Shiro and Keith could appreciate, still got old after a while.

“Ugh,” Shiro groaned in mock annoyance, “He just never shuts up about them. Maybe we’d understand better if we had children of our own.”

The moment the words left his mouth Keith could see he regretted it, glancing over guiltily to see Keith’s reaction. However, Keith made sure to keep his face completely neutral.

They had never actually fought over kids. Shiro had told him again and again that kids were not a deal breaker. That he loved Keith much more than a hypothetical.

But it didn’t change the fact that Shiro would like to have a kid. Ever since he was cured and guaranteed a future, he was suddenly given the chance to consider his future. And Shiro had surprised even himself with the desire for having kids. But Shiro also knew that the topic was difficult for Keith. Growing up thinking his Mom had left because of him and losing his father early on, Keith had had a hard time working through all that. However, his relationship with Krolia had so greatly improved over time and slowly Keith had come to realize he liked and even wanted kids.

Because he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

“Yeah, I suppose we would understand better if we had a kid,” Keith slowly replied, taking a deep breath, “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start looking into it?”

Shiro’s eyes widened and Keith could see his brain processing this new information. Keith felt his heart squeeze as he saw Shiro’s lips twinge into a tentative smile and something like hope in his eyes.

“Keith, are you sure? Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for my sake. I love you, and I am more than happy to spend the rest of my life like this, no children required-”

“Shiro,” Keith cut him off, and Shiro immediately shut up, “I’m sure. I’ve thought about it a lot lately and I think I can finally be ready. I really do like kids. And, I want to have a kid. With you. I want to give a home to a kid who needs one and I want that home to be with us.”

Keith smiled as he saw Shiro get a bit misty eyed before pulling Keith into another tight hug.

“As long as you’re sure,” Shiro murmured against his neck, “This isn’t set in stone, and we can back out at any point.”

“I know babe,” Keith replied, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Shiro’s back, “But I do want this. Because I know you’ll be a fantastic father and I want to be one too.”

“You will be,” Shiro pulled back to kiss him quick, “I know it.”

Keith smiled and dragged Shiro back down onto the sheets. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was shortly after midnight.

“Happy anniversary Shiro.”

“Happy anniversary Keith,” Shiro replied, moving over top of Keith to kiss him senseless.

-

By their twentieth anniversary, Keith and Shiro were already happily enjoying life with their adopted daughter Mila. At four years old and already a bundle of energy, they had their work cut out for them. Krolia, in her new role as grandmother, was already absolutely doting on the half-Galran girl. And Cosmo absolutely refused to leave Mila’s side.

There were, of course, challenges and changes to be dealt with. But as they lay curled up in bed with Mila between them, her arms wrapped around Keith and her tail wrapped around Shiro, they knew they’d made the right decision.

“I love you daddy,” she whispered.

“I love you too Mila,” Shiro replied.

Mila paused and tightened her arms around Keith.

“I love you papa.”

“Love you too baby,” Keith replied, kissing the top of her head.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

•You never really go to parties and are always really uptight and we made fun of you for it/expressed frustration at this so you forced yourself to go to this party and shit you’re so sick and you won’t go home because we made you feel bad I’m so sorry how can I make it up to you?? (Keith is not a fan of parties but his friends eventually pester him into going to one despite being sick as a dog.)

(I started this fic with the intention of having it for whumpmas, so if that is not a testament to how slow I am as a writer, idk what is! Also, btw this is weird but I love when sicknarios I write get back to me, lol! And I did write this scenario with Keith and E from les mis in mind, so this is a great prompt! This is college au, btw, I find it kinda difficult to write alien parties lmao!)

Parties are the perfect culmination of everything Keith hates in life.

Bright, strobe, head ache inducing lights with a wide variety of flashing, psychedelic colours, ear piercingly loud music with a tremendous beat that makes his heart thump and thump and feel way too overwhelmed, warm, sticky bodies way too close too each other and making him feel suffocated, too much people, having fun and feeling free when Keith can only feel more trapped.

Too much people.

Too much.

Keith has spent so much time in solitude, in simplicity. And being thrust into a situation where there is too much all at once is alien to him, and he can’t help the rapid beating and thumping of his wild heart when he looks around for some sort of serenity.

Keith feels trapped in this room, the overwhelming humidity and heaviness of this air weighing down on him and compressing his lungs so he can’t breathe.  He hates watching all these people exhilarated, vibrant, alive. When he can only feel more lifeless by the second.

He feels like an alien like this. Like he isn’t part of this world. Keith doesn’t even feel like here’s here. He can’t even feel his body, he doesn’t feel like he’s connected to it, and he’s floating away. Looking down.  And he hates what he sees.

All Keith can feel is the pounding and raging headache that seems to pierce into his skull and the pain is only worsened by the tremors of the pulsating waves of sound from the obnoxiously large speakers that litter the place.

He didn’t even want to be here; Shiro had told him this would be good, that college was great, and he needed to start living that college life. Shiro said he needed to be more sociable, because he would make the best friends of his life here. Pidge would tease him , and so would Lance. And Hunk encouraged him kindly, and Keith did not have any energy to fight them. So he went. And he could not have regretted a decision more than this very moment.

Keith stumbles around the night club like he’s drunk, and he doesn’t have one single drop of alcohol in his body. If he can be drunk on a fever, he definitely is. Due to his feverish haze he’s lost Shiro and Pidge, and his only hope is finding Lance and Hunk who are probably the life and soul of the party.

In this haze he hasn’t even realised the tickle blossoming within his sinuses and before he knows it he’s doubling over with one loud, powerful sneeze that grates against his throat with no time to cover, and just aim towards the floor. He gets a slightly irritated look from some person, and honestly, he doesn’t even mind. Keith feels awful being this germ incubator in this tightly knit space. This cold is horrendous, and he’s probably just passed it on to a good three people and he feels terrible.

Keith stumbles and wobbles around the night club dizzily, the technicolor lights seeming like an acid trip he did not consent to, and it seems to be sending waves of messages to his brain to hurt and throb. He feels a tad bit of anger and bitterness towards Shiro, Allura and Pidge, and maybe a little bit towards Lance and Hunk, but in fairness to them, they hadn’t pushed him to go this particular evening, but they had in the past.

“You need to enjoy your college experience, Keith! Get out of your room for once, embrace your youth!” Shiro had told him, in a way that was so middle aged dad he wanted to tear his hair out but so perfectly Shiro he couldn’t help but be persuaded into it.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Keith,” Pidge had whined.

“It’ll be so much fun, Keith! Plus, I heard that Lance is wearing a pretty cute outfit tonight,” Allura had teased, causing him to scowl knowing she had played with his heart and manipulated him with the promise of his crush looking cute.

And Keith couldn’t even find Lance, so there was about zero reason for him even being here.

As Keith continues to feverishly navigate around the crowded night club, pushing past bare, sticky skin and profusely overheating, he is suddenly tapped on the shoulder.

“Hey, will you kiss my friend?” A girl slurs, an arm sluggishly wrapped around her equally as wasted friend, giggling to her heart’s content.

Keith opens his mouth to politely refuse, but before he’s even aware his nose is itching horribly and Keith is doubling over with one loud, almost obnoxiously, heavy and sickly sounding sneeze he doesn’t cover.

The girls take a step back, giggling and backing away from him and fading away worth the crowd.

“Too bad, he was pretty cute though, just gross,” He hears one of them say before they disappeared entirely.

Keith sighs sadly, the girl was pretty, and he didn’t swing that way but he still felt kinda bad for being so gross. But his guilt doesn’t last long before he’s back to pitying himself and reembarking on his quest to find Lance.

He doesn’t even know why he’s so keen on finding the guy, he doesn’t really know what he’s expecting and maybe it’s his fever talking, but he’s not leaving this damn club without seeing his cute as fuck crush who is the reason he’s in this hellhole to begin with.

And it’s almost like a fairytale but it’s the sound of a beautiful melody, like a mesmerising serenade that captivates him him and lulls him over to the source.

He knows that voice anywhere.

He would know Lance’s melodic, tenor voice anywhere, it’s sweet and enthralling and it makes him feel all warm inside. Everything the little shit does makes him feel that way, but Lance’s voice is a siren’s song calling him and putting him on this spell and he’s forever his.

His voice has taken on an edge, a kind of rock and roll gruff to it that he finds insanely hot–maybe the fever adds to it though, he doesn’t know–and it’s sure tell sign that Lance is drunk.

“I guess I got what I deserved, kept you waiting there too long, my love. All that time without a word, didn’t know you’d think that I’d forget, or I’d regret, the special love, I have for you, my baby blue!” Lance sings, people dancing and bopping and head banging to his song.

Keith  manages to get a glimpse of Hunk who was jamming it out on the drums, and then he saw what he was looking for.

“Fuck,” Keith breathes out, “Allura was right.”

He did look pretty great.

He had his hair tousled and ruffled in a way that made him look so irresistible and adorable and these strobing lights that he hated served one purpose, and that was making his skin glow and his eyes twinkle and pop. His blue t-shirt hugged his body and his jeans were flattering and he looked so great. Keith wanted to faint.

Partly because of how attractive he looked, but also because he was now super light headed.

Lance looks beautiful and radiant, flashing a random girl watching one of those charming, flirty smiles that makes Keith jealous every time he does. He understands Lance isn’t his, but god he wished he was.

Keith shakes his head angrily, he’s never  his sentimental or sappy over Lance, maybe he really is that sick.

Then Lance looks over and they lock gazes, and this stupid lazy grin wipes across the boy’s face and any jealousy or bitterness or illness Keith is feeling seems to disappear when he does.

However Lance seems to realise his current state because his face drops. He quickly passes the mic to the random guy who’s playing the guitar and rushes over to Keith, albeit in a zig zagged direction as he seems to be tripping over his own feet.

“Keith?” Lance greets worriedly, only he can still remain appealing despite reeking of alcohol.

“Hey Lancey-Lance,” Keith slurs feverishly, before his nose twitches and he’s doubling over and aiming two harsh sneezes towards the floor.

“Lancey-Lan–god, you look awful! And Jesus, for you to be calling me that you must be running a–” Lance cut himself off and placed the back of his hand against Keith’s forehead and frowned.

“Dammit, Keith! That’s not good, we gotta get you,” Lance hiccups, “–home!”

“Why did you come, anyway, while you were this sick?” Lance frets, hiccuping again.

“M'not a stick in the mud,” Keith mutters feverishly, leaning into Lance’s side and nuzzling his face against his chest in exhaustion.

He pulls Keith into his embrace and kissed the top of his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “What? What are you–oh.”

Lance’s heart sinks, “Keith. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for teasing you, I didn’t mean to hurt you at all, I just..I wanted you to be with us. When you’re not here..I miss you.”

Keith shakes his head, “Not you.. you didn’t make me come tonight.”

Lance bites his lip, “Still. I contributed to make you feel like you were uptight and boring when you are nothing but exciting and lovely. I’m sorry Keith, please, let me make it up to you.”

Keith cant help but crack a weak smile, “I didn’t know you were an emotional drunk. I’m glad I came here tonight, now I can blackmail you.”

Lance can’t help but laugh a little, “But we’re taking you home right now.”

Keith sneezes loudly into Lance’s chest, muttering, “Sorry.”

Lance smiles softly, tapping him on the nose, “Alright, Mullet. Enough, we’re going home.”

“But they’re having so much fun..look at Hunk..he’s jamming out..” Keith points over to Hunk.

“And you..need to keep singing..” He insists tiredly.

“No way, you’re too sick!” Lance protest as he began to walk Keith out, simultaneously pulling out his phone to order an uber.

Once they arrive outside Keith let out a sigh of relief to feel the fresh air, basking in all the space and the soft lighting. His head seemed to ease up a little bit.

However the cold quickly began to seep in, causing him to shiver violently. Lance pulls off the jacket he had tied around the waist and helped Keith out it on. He then pulls the boy into a hug to share his warmth.

“Thank you,” Keith manages to choke out before erupting into a series of harsh, heavy coughs.

Lance could only smile weakly, obviously feeling guilty but pushed it aside to wave over to the Uber driver and guided Keith in.

***

Lance hauls Keith onto his bed, with him muttering about taking out the aspirin because they’ll both need it the next day, and heads straight towards the bathroom to collect a damp towel for him. Once he returned he laid the cloth gently over his forehead and pulled a chair over, sitting beside him.

“Shiro called. He was wondering where we were, I told him you were sick and he feels awful. They all do. Pidge says Korean takeaway is on her tomorrow, if you’re up for it,” Lance explains softly.

“You’re not a stick in the mud, Keith. Okay? You’re not boring. You’re not any of these things we made you feel and I’m so sorry we ever did. You’re sweet and kind and such a great friend and– I’m so sorry, Keith, we should’ve understood. I love parties but there are days where I just don’t even want to get out of bed, I should’ve understood, showed you some compassion. I should’ve..”

“Lance, stop.”

He looks over Keith, feeling guilt and feeling responsible for Keith being this sick. He feels awful, he had made yet another mistake. He feels so stupid for being unable to read in between the lines, his jokes going too far and he hadn’t even noticed it. He just wanted  Keith to be with him, to be happy. And he had to go and fuck it up.

“You’re really good at hiding how you feel, Lance, but you can’t hide it from me, stop feeling so guilty,” Keith croaks.

“I can’t help it, I was hurting you and I didn’t know,” Lance murmurs.

Keith coughs harshly, feeling his chest rattle from the force of it, “I’ve felt worse pain.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

Keith smiles softly, “But you didn’t mean to hurt me. I know you never would try and hurt me. ..you said..you missed me when I’m not there. Yeah, I was hurt, but now I feel wanted.”

Lance manages a smile, “Always. You’re always wanted.”

“I hope you know that.”

“I know now,” He slurs feverishly.

Keith coughs again, and when he finishes he looks over at Lance with bleary, glazed eyes, and giggles, “You looked very hot tonight.”

Lance blushes hard, his eyes widening, “U-uh..n-no, you’re the feverish one, you’re hot.”

Keith scoffs before yet again coughing, “Don’t play dumb, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. You know what I meant.”

Lance shakes a little, so unused to being the one flirted with rather than the one initiating it, Keith did this thing where he shook his entire world and turned it upside down and he’d lose control.

“You’re not..you’re..you’re..uh..pretty. Uh, pretty cool. Pretty handsome. Whatever,” Lance blurts , extremely flustered.

Keith grabs at his hand with the sweetest look in his eyes, “Sing for me, please. It makes everything feel okay again.”

Lance swallows as his hand was grabbed, but he let himself relax into his touch and let it happen. He smiles.

“I’ve got no use for moonlight, or sappy poetry. Love at first sight is for suckers, at least it used to be. Look, girls are nice, once or twice, til’ I find someone new..but I never planned on no one like you.”

[ganymedesclock]

kaorusan241 replied to your post: I’ve expressed my frustration before with fanon...

Tbh if you’re gonna make a post like this you ought to mention that they share plenty of negative traits too…. otherwise you’re just a hypocrite for stanning Shiro/ignoring his canon faults whilst accusing Lance stans of doing the same

Hi, friend! That post was pretty tongue-in-cheek, admittedly, it was mostly me expressing frustration.

The intent of the post was not that either Shiro or Lance are perfect or flawless people, but, rather, that Lance is mistakenly given Shiro’s traits, and I wanted to rally against that not only because Shiro deserves recognition for who and what he is, but also because that’s not fair to Lance at all! He’s not Shiro, and he shouldn’t have to be like Shiro to be seen as a worthwhile person.

Because Lance is a very empathetic and open person. If anything, he and Shiro are polar opposites in how they address their feelings. Lance is very inclined to networking and opening up to people, and as seen in s3e6 with Keith, will actively seek people out to talk about his concerns and stresses.

This is a fantastic quality of Lance’s, one of, in my opinion, his greatest character strengths and it’s something Shiro is awful at. Lance actually does the good thing and addresses his feelings. This makes sense because multiple official sources tell us the Blue Lion is the nurturing emotional head of Voltron- the “heart” of the team. And that’s an area where Lance excels.

Conversely this is an area Shiro struggles with profoundly. This poor guy has an obvious undiagnosed anxiety disorder (PTSD) and seems to have been a slightly high-strung overachiever most of his life. Shiro stocks strengths Lance doesn’t- he has an incredible resolve, pain tolerance, and determination. That’s not to say Lance is weak-willed or cowardly, but, consider incidents like in s1e5 where Lance fights awake for a brief period of time to attack Sendak and then rapidly loses consciousness again.

Shiro has the most determination and greatest force of personality out of the team, in general. He has a powerful sense of personal ethics and will live or die, stare into the abyss for his ideals.

Lance, while also a hero, and able to do some amazing things (he was able to get under Shiro’s skin in s2e8 challenging him, he’s no wimp in the willpower department ‘cause none of these kids are) doesn’t have all of Shiro’s strengths and that’s fine. He doesn’t need to. He has all of Lance’s strengths, instead.

Furthermore, you have to consider where Lance was in s1e1 and what that says about Lance. Lance is not a genius or a prodigy. However, he was able to, through basically just diligence and hard work- another major virtue of his- reach Keith’s position. He was able to occupy the slot in the fighter class saved for Keith, their most promising cadet. Iverson phrases it incredibly harshly, but he clearly thinks Lance has potential, and the only problem is he doesn’t think Lance is taking this seriously.

But Lance isn’t happy in s1e1. Because that slot wasn’t meant for him. It was someone else’s role. And there’s something to this once s3e2 comes around and Lance steps up as Red Paladin.

Unlike Allura or Keith, Lance struggles the least, observably, with the Red Lion. His single argument is the controls are tricky, and by s3e3 he’s overwhelmingly worked that out.

Of the paladins, Lance is the most adaptable to an unpredictable or changing situation. This is also reflected in s4e4, when all the paladins are called upon to act contrary to who they really are- notice that Lance is the one who thrives in that environment. Because Lance is a chameleon of a person. He’s able to be what the situation needs of him with a great deal of flexibility.

(Consider that his counterpart on Team Sincline is an almost literal chameleon.)

But ultimately those roles are disappointing and unfulfilling. They don’t work as a permanent arrangement because he knows they’re not for him, and he knows what feels right.

Full disclosure here, I adore Lance. The reason why I get so frustrated at popular fanon Lance is he’s one of my favorite characters and I feel like people really do not give him credit where credit’s due! Especially because my point that he’s given Shiro’s characteristics is that time and time again, I’ve seen fanwork of Lance being utterly destroyed in his own area of expertise.

Again, Lance is the feelings guy out of the team! Shiro, Keith, and Allura are frankly all prone to bottling issues, failing to address them, holding things past the breaking point and snapping at the worst possible time and place. Lance? Lance doesn’t do that. Lance can be basically precision suckerpunched right where it hurts with his own issues- look at s3e1 and the revelation that not only did Shiro actively nominate Keith as leader in his absence but the Black Lion also thinks so right when Lance was still nursing the hurt of being rejected by Black.

Look at how perfectly Lance takes it upon himself to put everything he’s feeling, that he knows, that he acknowledges, that he’s already been venting and communicating- aside, and talk about it in a mature and empathetic manner because he can tell that Keith is suffering in this situation.

This is Lance who says “This isn’t a participation game, this is war,” or who spent s4e6 doing everything he could to make Allura believe she could do what the entire team was counting on. Lance, who with certainty knows that the Blue Lion is the heart of the team and uses that to prop up Allura, but never took that knowledge to aggrandize himself.

Lance is an amazing person. He’s a wonderful, empathetic guy full of love, and he’s got fantastic instincts about people’s emotions. When he gets in trouble, he’s a very proactive force getting out of them and often his saving grace in situations is how good he is at listening to people even if he doesn’t necessarily like them or wants to prove himself against them. He’s so much stronger than his own insecurities.

But Lance isn’t a Black Paladin. He could do it, just like he can work with Red, but it wouldn’t be ideal for him. He’d sure do a lot better than Shiro would do with Blue, because... uh. Consider what happened with Allura, and consider what happened in Beta Traz when Shiro was in a stressful situation and felt like it was out of his control.

I also have great affection for Shiro. But. Dear god, he’s that friend that you knew that was taking all advanced classes and holding down straight A’s and also on a competitive sport team and you see them occasionally at mealtimes and they have never, ever had enough sleep.

Like I said it before, Shiro has the strongest personal ethics and greatest determination out of the paladins and that’s a high damn bar but he pays for that by being stressed the hell out. And he’s spectacularly bad at self-care, because he’s got so much fortitude that he assumes he can make it, and most of the time he’s right, but it has a very heavy cost to him.

Conversely, Lance, as I started this out by saying- Lance is fantastic at self-care. This is actively shown in his grooming habits. In s1e2 when everybody runs to the bridge, Shiro is the guy who was awake way too early and dressed and exercising probably because his sleep routine is fucked up and wasn’t relaxing at all. Lance wanders in late, but rested, pampered, and clearly having taken time and resources to make sure he’s at his best.

Yes, one of them is the one you want on your side during a catastrophe, but, that’s really not anywhere approaching a long-term healthy lifestyle. Even as herculean as Shiro is, he’s gonna burn himself out a long time before Lance does, because Lance understands that while the last-gasp ‘wake up from a coma to shoot the guy hassling your friends and damn your internal injuries’ stunts have a place and a value, if that happens more than once you should look at how many times something blows up on you.

And that’s really important to me, because emotions and nurturing are seen as stereotypically feminine traits- and because of that, a lot of boys and men are denied that. What are you, some kind of wuss who needs emotional care? (Spoiler: you are. Everyone is.) This amazing, important, heroic quality is seen as worthless- and that happens big time with characterizing Lance! I’ve heard people say he did absolutely nothing when it was his intervention and his virtues in s4e6 that let Allura awaken her powers that went on and saved everybody. Lancey Lance did that!

TL;DR Lance and Shiro are both amazing people, and very different people, and as someone who loves both of them, I want the qualities they have to be respected, rather than misattributed to other people or ignored.

[anwo-prinz]

ALA Artist Alley post-con writeup

Here’s my general experience from tabling & what I plan to do going forward. Photos also included after the cut. Long post.

So, overall I had a pretty good experience. It was my first western/American artist alley experience, I was curious to try it out after my circle experience for Comic Market 92. Skip this section and scroll down if you just wanna see photos (these are just reposted from twitter though).

The Good:

Had quite a few followers + friends stop by to buy stuff! Thank you so much, seriously - I really appreciated the support because my table would have been dead otherwise..! I also met some GBF artists which made me so happy! 

Felt really great to see people have a positive reaction to my merch, just laughing or smiling at the Salty tote or Dont @ Me shirt. My best seller was the shirt & the mugs sold out quite quickly. I sold a decent number of coasters (though I still have way too many lol). 

Was a huge learning experience and I feel like all my prepration for organizing & promoting my goods paid off! 

Tabling made it really easy for friends to find me - something that isn’t common at cons, usually. People are usually all over the place. 

So much space! The pavilion tent was a good choice overall. There was lots of room to walk around for attendees to browse casually since it wasn’t crowded or narrow. Also, even behind the tables there was a lot of space to spread our stuff out as artists! It was also climate controlled & A/C so I appreciated it not being too hot and dank.

AA staff was really cool - the organizer even stopped by my table to apologize about all the miscommunication and bad reactions. They also gave out water to us, and one of my friends was staff so he checked up on me every now and then.

The Bad:

The hours were so long... Friday & Saturday, it was open 10AM-7PM, then Sunday 10AM-5PM. I stayed most of the time and I was very exhausted, and doing it back-to-back for 3 days was rough. I wasn’t used to it, and the chairs were uncomfortable. Plus I didn’t have a table partner... I was also mentally exhausted from having to try to smile & be outgoing with conversation for so long. I’m normally not used to so much interaction face-to-face. 

The strong winds on Sunday were really alarming! The whole tent was shaking, the support beams even creaking and moving a bit. It also got pretty chilly at nighttime. 

I felt like a lot of the buyers for western artists are still very print-focused consumers? Or perhaps it’s because I’m a new artist without an established western following (I’d say my following is very small/niche due to my fandoms). I was selling coasters/mugs & tote bags/shirts, which I mistakenly thought would do pretty well (I overestimated myself on the bags & coasters). But most of the people who bought stuff from my table seemed to be people who were referred or knew me already, not really any impulse buyers. I thought my prices were quite fair ($5 coaster, $15 tote, and $22 shirt). But people would still have rather bought $15 prints, it seemed. Perhaps there was just a lot of competition because of how many artists were there, so people had to spend money really carefully. 

Another thing is that even though people liked my stuff, I think it was harder to sell because the customers browsing might not have felt any attachment to the characters of my merch. Like I thought the Kaede rubber strap would do better but not many people bought it probably because they didn’t know the character, the Narmaya charm did OK though. 

Doing stuff from Granblue Fantasy & iDOLM@STER when the fandom isn’t too popular in the west is pretty hard. However, there’s a small but dedicated fan base which helped a lot. A few iM@S Producers stopped by my table, and I was happy to chat with fellow GBF fans who were burnt out after fire guild wars!

In conclusion...

I did make enough from sales to cover all my expenses and also make a bit of profit (surprising especially as a 1st time tabling artist at a western con) so I feel pretty good about it! However, doing the 3-days-in-a-row thing was absolutely awful. I think I’ll stick to single-day events from now on, even if they’re just small events. No Fanime or Anime Expo for me. 

I still plan on making stuff from GBF/iM@S just because those are my 2 main fandoms, I don’t really want to expand to making merch for series I’m not super passionate about even if it’d sell better. Just not my style. I am into Type Moon so maybe I’ll also make some FGO stuff on the side too, but not as a main focus. 

I’m glad I did have a waitlist open for people who wanted to buy leftover goods, I have a decent amount of stuff that people asked for. I plan to open an online store too (after setting aside some stock for Ronin Expo, just a 1-day event in June in Los Angeles). I want to design more merch! Especially shirts and mugs. Also want to draw another book.

Feels like doing Comike spoiled me for doing cons though... I really would love to try to do an only-event like Cool Star Festiv@l in Japan or another Comike (maybe winter?). Maybe I’ll try it for the future! 

Photos!

My table set-up! You can see an example of how the table looks behind me, which is just bare and white, with 2 chairs. The PVC pipe set up, the wire stands, hangers, blue tablecloth, bookstands, etc, are all stuff I brought from home (I got most of the stuff via home depot or daiso). It’s similar to Comike, you just get that little half table and some chairs; the rest you have to bring to set up for yourself. 

Close-up for the price tags too.

The 4 shikishis I drew during the convention (3 were commissions, the other was just for fun)!

Lastly, some merch trades I did with new friends! 

Sticker sheet: twitter/alyssaucy or tumblr/peachfuel

Neko Lancey keychain: tumblr/deerscritches

Lancelot+Siegfried rose keychain: tumblr/mitikokite

[writinglangst8703]

Star Above the Waters.

TW: major depictions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, major character death. —

The icy cold drops of rain pierce deep into Lance’s tear strewn cheeks, pale with cold as he shivered. It was like little needles flecking his skin and leaving him numb and frigid.

Above him, storm clouds cracked and thundered and rolled, making a symphony of Mother Nature’s deadly desire.

Somewhere in front of him, the sky lit up with light like a match in a dark room, only now it was a lighting strike as it buried itself and made its mark somewhere in the world.

Good for it. It left a lasting impression when it was gone. Something Lance would never be able to accomplish.

He had tried countless times.

Either to be noticed, to be popular, to exist in the eyes of people who weren’t apart of his routine life.

He went to whatever lengths he could, tried to stay out of any negative situation.

Lance was always a people pleaser. He always did his very best to make sure everyone he encountered was left with something good to say about him when he was gone.

But any good start with anyone, would only crumble to bad in some way and have him in ruins. Failure.

It seemed like other people could do it just fine. They could be just like Lance and yet they would be the one to rise up in the world, while he was only sinking lower.

Literally and mentally.

Over the past few weeks Lance had got to thinking pretty hard about life. Not about how to go forward with it, what he could make of it, or even what he had planned in life as it went on.

Lance thought more so on the side of ending it. Which, in that way, could be counted as the same as making it better.

Or at least that’s how Lance saw it.

He’d been looking at the possibilities for weeks, like a kid in the candy store. Any way to get out of the world that he couldn’t stand up in, only put deeper and deeper into a hole that the people around him were digging for him.

In all honesty, maybe he had a shovel himself, but that had only been for a little while. It was a small shovel.

Hanging was out of the question. He read too many history books and seen too many movies to know that if it’s done with the slightest flaw, it won’t be easy.

You have to take in people’s height and weight, and the way the noose is tied in relativity to it all.

He would leave the math to Pidge.

Second option had been using those skills with a firearm that he had. But in all honesty that was too messy and he didn’t like the idea of risking it not going right, distorting his face for the rest of his life.

Although he knew the proper way was to put the shotgun directly behind his ear, he didn’t want to wimp out at something only he could control. Pull the trigger or not, there’s too much room for mind changing.

Lance had already tried pills. But he had already been on so many medications to numb the race of his heart, the workings of his mind, all the boy had gotten in return was a nice euphoria for a few hours.

The stomach pumping afterward wasn’t as pleasant, so again there is too much room for flaw. It needed to be just right.

So here he was. Standing atop this mere ledge as the thing he loved most fell down around him.

You may be thinking that there is too much chance of let go or not let go, fall or not fall, in this scenario.

But that’s why he chose today of all days. This ledge of all ledges. It was perfect.

Below the 3 ½ inch strip of concrete his feet balanced on, roared the sea. Lance had always loved the water.

A lighthouse. Dark. 5 pm.

Lance had learn most suicides happened between the times of noon and six in the evening, so why not just blend in with the crowd, since he could never stand out in it?

It was about 230 feet tall from the water, and here Lance stood at 198 feet above.

The boy closed his eyes, which were warm with tears but the rain made his skin cold. He felt a swaying motion, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Everything has an expiration date, whether human or animal or thing.

Nothing doesn’t not come to an end.

It can be chosen by you or for you. Expected or unexpected.

A thought came to his head, standing hundreds of feet above the water that would soon become one with him and finalize his expiration date.

Lance had always tried to stand out, take risks, try and be noticed and try to be civil.

How come he lived in a world where ‘Take A Life’ was something all you had to do was turn on the television to hear. A social norm almost, something sad, but no you don’t really try and think about it that much.

But ‘Take A Chance’? How is it fair that it seems almost impossible, scary even. Frowned upon, because why would you do that?

What sort of world was that?

Lance lifted on hand from the hold behind him, wiping his cheeks. If he lifted the other, he would fall.

He leaned forward, his free hand swaying at his side as he stared at the back of his eyelids. That questioned repeated itself.

What kind of world is that?

Lance shook his head with a low chuckle, a sad sound that made it past his lips but was then snatched away by the wind.

A tired voice muttered, “Not the kind I want to live in.” With those words, Lance let go.

—

That wasn’t Lance. None of them would believe that it was Lance, because how could it be?

It was held in a splayed out position, head back and mouth open, eyes closed.

It’s body was on the verge of turning blue, and had already bloated. It must have been there for hours.

It was dead. A dead, blue thing.

And even though it wore the same clothes, they all refused to believe it was the happy Cuban boy they had come to love and care for, even if he annoyed them sometimes.

They’d gone looking for him after he hadn’t shown up for dinner, and wasn’t back by ten at night.

Keith suggested they go out with flashlights.

Pidge who said wait a little longer.

Shiro who said he’d wait and see if he came back while they were out.

Hunk who found the note on Lances desk. Shiro who read it out loud, and ran. Pidge is the one who found it.

The body.

And it was Lance who was dead.

—

‘I knew someday I’d probably have to write a will or something, you know that thing old people write and families break over.

But I guess I didn’t know I’d be writing my own suicide note. Things had been pretty okay for me as a child.

I wanted to go to space, or become a marine biologist. Stars and water, either one was perfect for me because I loved them both.

Maybe I should say I’m sorry, because that’s what everyone else writes, but I’m not going to.

It would be like saying sorry for the milk expiring, or the toy that broke. I’m just another thing that had an end coming.

We all do. But I’m not sorry.

I got to see the water, be apart of it, and I know I probably won’t look very pretty when you find me but I didn’t bother to put any makeup on when I woke up for the last time this morning.

Don’t worry, if you look up at night, I’ll look so much better as a star. Among those that I had always wanted to see.

Pidge, you’re such a strong woman and you’re smarter than I could have ever been. When you invent a code that makes memories a reality, please don’t forget about me by then and visit the good ones we had, okay?

Keith, at least from up here I can look down on your mullet, and pretend it looks a lot better than it actually is. Also, do me a favor and make sure Hunk is okay after this. You two seem close to an extent, he is going to need someone to go to. ((If he makes you something to eat, EAT IT.))

Hunk, thank you so much for being my best friend and my brother for all of these years. You’re a good bro, and I’ll make sure to put a good word in up here for you so you can be the Big Guy’s head chef. (Only if I get some snacks though.) I’m trusting you to keep Pidge in check, and make sure you feed those little mice in the shed. I love you.

Shiro, please please watch them all for me. And take care of yourself. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not helping any, but use them as your support and you as theirs. It’s okay to need someone, everyone needs another. Just make sure they have you, and each other, because I don’t want any of you to end up like me. Stay rad, space Dad.

I don’t care what you do with me, but whatever you do I want to be by the ocean. My final final resting place. Spread my ashes, bury my grave. Just make sure they play Beyoncé at the funeral.

You guys are out of this world. See you later.

~ Lancey Lance

[eternalravendreamer]

The Holographic Space-Grass is Always Realer in the Other Reality (WIP)

Another dimension-rift had shown up, possibly the work of Lotor. The team had gone to investigate, only for a strange, slightly-beat up cargo ship to come through the portal. When they asked for the crew to identify themselves, a familiar voice answered.

“This is Lance McClain and Alrim Blaw, of the Interplanetary Coalition for Peace and Coexistence. Our ship is The Ocean of Stars, code OOS-83. We have refugees and injured aboard, and we come in peace. We are also aware that we are in an alternate reality. We request only assistance healing the injured and time to repair our ship for the journey back to our reality.”

Before anyone else could so much as blink, Lance was moving the Blue Lion closer to the ship, curiosity getting the better of him, “Whoa, is that really another me?!” A squeaky fit of giggles erupted through the comm line as a reply.

“Oh my Flowos, is that really what you used to sound like, Lancey?! He’s got a baby voice! I can practically hear the squishy cheeks!”

“Alri, please. I’m right next to you.”

“Yeah but I pinch your cheeks all the time. I’ve got four arms, I can pinch two faces at once!”

“Whatever you say, Al.”

They weren’t sure what they had expected this strange Alternate Lance to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. He was somehow even taller than their Lance (though only about an inch or so), and broader, with more muscle. His hair was still the same, but his face was harder-set, with a cross-shaped scar on the left cheek and three small ones breaking up his right eyebrow. He wore a tight black bodysuit with a dark blue and white shirt that looked like a long-sleeved crop top, and long pants of the same dark blue. His boots were thick and mostly white, with black accents. The shirt also had an emblem on it, presumably for the Coalition he’d mentioned.

Most noticeable about him, however, was the strange set of guns and knives dangling from his belt, as well as the way he stood. Tall. Stiff. Serious. With Lance’s face it looked wrong, all wrong.

The alien who seemed to be his co-pilot was an odd one. They had smooth, light grey skin with orange, gem-like protrusions across their face and backs of their arms. They were about shoulder-height to the Other Lance, and had light blue hair tired back in multiple small ponytails, each with different-colored hair ties. Their eyes were wide and dark blue like a night sky. Sure enough, they did have four arms - or rather, they had two biceps, but four forearms, creating a Y-shape. They were dressed similarly to Other Lance, but had a high-collared, sleeveless top instead. They beamed at Lance (the regular one), but glared and showed shiny black fangs with bright-blue gums to the rest of the team.

“Calm down, Alrim. They aren’t the same as our world’s Voltron. You can’t be mad at these people for something they didn’t do.”

“But--”

“No buts. If you’re worried about their Lance, check him over yourself. If they’ll allow it, that is.” There was a moment of tense hesitation from both sides, but when nobody moved to stop Alrim, they walked towards Lance, gait light-toed and yet decidedly grounded. Almost like how an ostrich moves, but less awkward.

“Uh, hey. The name’s Lance, but I guess you kinda already knew that.” Lance held his hand out for a handshake, but instead was pulled into a tight hug. Keith stiffened, hand drifting to his hip to summon his bayard if these strangers so much as dared to hurt Lance. Alrim stared the Red Paladin down, and smiled.

“Hm. Seems like the Voltron of this world is at least a little better than ours.”

“If I may ask, is there something wrong with the Voltron of your reality? Your reaction to us was...concerning.”

Alternate Lance flinched for a split-second, “It’s a long story--” Alrim’s hold on Regular Lance tightened and he could feel a sort of clacking growl rising in their chest and throat.

“They’re scum. Rotten scum who hurt Lance!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, we hurt him?!”

“Don’t worry, the fact that you care about him at all means you’re already a better team than mine was.”

“Wait, so you were still part of Voltron? Still the Blue Paladin?”

“...yeah. I miss ol’ Blue.” Other Lance paused, staring longingly at the hanger doors, “I know that you don’t trust me - I wouldn’t either. But could I...just once before we leave, could I just...talk to Blue?”

“Of course. C’mon, I wanted to talk to you in private anyway, have some Lance-Lance time.”

“You seem like this...this perfect version of me, the me I always pictured in my head that I had to become. Strong, brave, serious but still charming, loved by all, never making a mistake...but you seem so...lonely. Even with, uh...”

“Alrim. They’re my copilot, my partner. The best thing to ever happen to me.” Other Lance smiled fondly and blushed, but suddenly froze and blinked the emotion away, “Don’t tell them I said that. I’m not ready for them to know yet. I’m not...ready to be alone again.”

“Alone...again? What happened to you?”

“Listen, the Paladins of Voltron you know are...very different from their equals in my world. I used to be a lot more like you. Louder, softer, more emotional, more...” he took in a shaky breath, “...real. My team - Allura and Coran included - hated it. Hated me. So when they found out that Allura and just about anyone else could pilot the Blue Lion, they took the blue armor and bayard from me. They gave me some spare, generic space armor, a practice blaster, and all my belongings in a bag. Then they dropped me on the closest non-hostile planet and left, without so much as a goodbye. They...they left me to die.”

“WE WOULD NEVER!” Hunk stormed into the room, gripping both Lances in one of his signature hugs. Other Lance seemed stunned, especially as the rest of the crew ran up to them as well. Alrim didn’t look too happy about them being so close to him.

“Lance has been my best friend since we were kids! Why would some freaky not-me ever be mean to him...you...him-you?!”

“The Hunk Garret of my reality didn’t meet me until the Garrison. He was...definitely less huggy than you, that’s for sure. He pretty much wanted to fight anything that breathed, and held deep grudges. I was just a nuisance to him.”

“What about me?! Lance is like another big brother to me!”

“My world’s Pidge Gunderson was a living insult machine, and I was their favorite target, because I was always messing everything up. When I was being kicked out they even joked that I was probably never the Blue Paladin at all, that it was always Allura. I was just the delivery guy.”

“There’s no way I would’ve allowed that. What the hell was I doing?!”

“Our Captain Shirogane--”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. I made you call me Captain?! Who did that guy think he was, Iverson?!”

“Hey, whatever made you feel better, man. He had some issues. He’d been a Galra prisoner, and from the looks of it things you were too. But my world’s Shirogane got kind of...addicted to fighting. Winning made him feel powerful, in control. Whenever someone had to train one-on-one with him we pretty much had to have healing pods on standby. And I was the worst at hand-to-hand combat, so...he kicked my ass a lot. Probably not on purpose.”

“Oh god...”

“But point is, he wanted nothing more than to absolutely obliterate the Galra. And I was holding him back, trying to calm him down. Guess he, uh, wasn’t ready for amateur therapy hour.”

“I can’t imagine I could ever not care about Lance...was I different, too?”

“Oh, Coran...you’re so different from the Coran I know that I didn’t even realize who you were at first. My dimension’s Coran is a cold, cynical man. His son apparently died or betrayed Altea or something, I never found out for certain. He didn’t care about anyone besides the Princess, and avoided us as much as he could. I’m not even sure he ever learned my name.”

“In your world I am still a princess, and a princess cannot allow her team to behave so...cruelly!”

“To be fair, you spent most of your time grieving your father and Altea. If you weren’t mourning, you were plotting Zarkon’s downfall. With how much I messed up training and missions, I was just a liability. That’s why my world’s Princess Allura took over Blue. Not that Blue...seemed to mind.” The Blue Lion gave a growl of emotion above them. Frustration, anger, sadness, and shock, with a hint of desperation.

“I...” Keith glared at the floor, “Whatever Keith you know is probably nothing like me. I know Lance and I haven’t always gotten along, but he...I...we had a freakin’ bonding moment!”

“A what now?”

“Yeah, I don’t remember because I kind of had a concussion and was in a small coma before and after it happened, but uh apparently Hotshot McMullet, and I quote, ‘cradled me in his arms’.”

“Well shit, the Keith Kogane I knew was all business and order-taking, nothing else. Hell, he was the one who suggested getting rid of me in the first place!”

“I DID WHAT?!”

Slav paused his intense calculating and popped his head out from under the worktable, “I just detected a 78% increase in our reality’s Red Paladin getting into an altercation with the Red Paladin of another reality. That’s, eeeeeehhhhhh, a lot.”

“Yeah, because if I ever see him I’m gonna break his FACE!”

“Y’know, I change my mind. You guys are alright. You care about your Lancey and you even seem concerned about mine. You’re waaaaay better than the Voltron from our dimension!”

~Lance of the other realm...~

“B...Blue?! Holy--I didn’t think I’d be able to communicate with...wow, you sound the same as my--my world’s Blue Lion.”

~We Lions do not change much between the realities in which we exist. We can even communicate with our other selves, for advice or simply for the comfort. I have located and connected with my other from your world.~

“Did she say anything? I know I have a lot I wish I could’ve said to her.”

~She confirmed that you were mistreated. She tells me that you were the only part of that Voltron who hadn’t let their anger or pain consume them. Your world’s Voltron is unstable and unlikely to succeed - your Coalition is more likely to bring peace than they are.~

“Well nizquak, just when I thought our job was getting easier, now we’ve gotta pick up Voltron’s slack.”

~She also wants you to know that she does miss you. She allowed the Princess to pilot her hoping that it would help her to heal, but instead my Other was overwhelmed by the intensity of her emotions and had control torn away from herself. She watches over you always, and loves you dearly. You will always be her Paladin, no matter who pilots her.~

“I...I love her, too.”

“HALT!”

“Is that...the other Voltron?!”

“Good, looks like I’ll get my chance to kick my other self’s ass sooner than I thought.”

“We have no business with you. What we want are the Galrans aboard the ship you are escorting.”

“They’re not part of the Empire! They’re rebels from a group called--”

“We don’t care what they’re called. Do you honestly think we believe their word? Only you would be that stupid, McClain. All Galra must be treated with suspicion while the war is active! That means so supposed ‘rebel’ or ‘prisoner’ Galra go unchecked. None.”

“Are you even hearing yourselves?! Other Shiro, you of all people should see what’s wrong with that.”

“It’s different. They’re Galra. They deserve to know how it feels to be someone else’s prisoner, even if they’re innocent!”

“If any of you dare attack that ship, we will defend it. Voltron’s mission may be to defend our universe, but no matter what universe he’s from, Lance McClain is our friend! We cannot forgive the harm you have done him!”

“LANCE!”

They ran through the hall, skidding to a stop when Alrim came into view. They were crying, on their hand and knees and holding something in their arms. Something covered in red blood.

“I-Is that...Lance?”

“I...I think so. But which one?”

“Our Lance has his Paladin armor. The other Lance is in his Coalition gear.”

Nobody moved forward to look at the armor, and Alrim was too shaken and panicked to hear them. At that moment, it was Schrodinger’s Lance.

“Oh no...” Everyone looked up. Lance - the Lance who was still wearing the Blue Paladin armor (Hunk whispered a small “Thank god”) hesitantly approached his other self’s co-pilot.

“The...the other Altean, the older one, we didn’t think he’d leave the Castle control deck. He ambushed us and pulled a blaster, and then Lance...!”

“...he protected you. And the other Coran ran off somewhere, I guess.”

“He can’t die! Not to them, not to the people who already broke him once! He can’t...I can’t...”

“...I’m so sorry, Alrim. He...he really loved you. He didn’t tell you, and I think you already understand why, but he loved you. If he doesn’t pull through, you need to know that.”

“...Lance you dummy...you knew you could tell me anything...”

“Guess he forgot. How typical of him.”

“You monsters...you killed one of your own! A fellow Paladin! You’re no better than Zarkon!”

“Lance McClain is no Paladin.”

*BOOM*

A shockwave of energy pulsed through the ship. Powerful. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

“The Blue Lion...his Blue Lion!”

~YOU HAVE HARMED MY PALADIN FOR THE LAST TIME!~

“What?! No, I’m your Paladin now! Stop this immediately!”

The Red Lion appeared on Blue’s right, mouth brimming with flames.

~We TRUSTED you. We trusted that together, you would form a bond and work as a TEAM, PROTECT each other!~

The Black Lion drifted in on the left, movements eerily slower than normal.

~It appears that we were WRONG.~

“So he’s...he’s gonna be okay, right? My Lance?”

“There might be a new scar from the blast, and definitely psychological damage, but he’s going to pull through. I think finding out he has his Lion again will help, too.”

“Don’t you worry, Alrim! He’ll be out of the pod in just a few doboshes!”

“I can’t believe we’re gonna have to find new Paladins...man, that’s gonna take forever! I just wanna go beat up Zarkon so Lance can go home and show me all the cool Earth stuff he always talks about!”

“I think I’m starting to get why the Red Lion chose you. You’re not very patient, are you?”

“Rude, but true.”

[constel-langst-ions]

Bad Crowd, Better Friends

Wasnt there an au where Lance hung out w a bad crowd but he loved them?? Yeah guess whos writing it? Me.

If the creator of this prompt sees this, let me know! I would’ve tagged you but I cant find the original post :(

Anyways, thank you all so much for the recognition and followers! And thanks @taylor-tut for sharing my writing. Love you all!

(Takes place during S2 I guess, ~~~ is flashback, — is present time)

~~~

Lance sat in a treehouse. He was 14 years old. When he started hanging out with the “bad crowd”.

Sure, the things they did were bad. Drugs, bought from shady dealers in dark alleyways, during the dead of night. Alcohol, stolen from parents unlocked cellars. But they didn’t fight, they didn’t do bad things to people.

But they had a problem, Lance would admit.

He was part of it, yeah. He did drugs, he drank alcohol like the others did. But only because his mind was messed up.

Seriously messed up.

He had depression, it was obvious, but his family didn’t have the money to buy him the needed medication so he could get better.

So, he took it into his own hands. Getting high, getting drunk, saves him from his own mind, a hellhole.

Part of him knew it was bad, that he had an addiction, that he needed to stop. The other half didn’t care. Anything to help him feel alive.

He didn’t have friends in school. He was just the druggie, the kid who would go nowhere in life.

That was until he met a group of kids while getting some shady substance that he didn’t know the name of.

They had been around, and warned him not to buy it. It was overpriced drugs, and dangerous, too.

He joined them that day, becoming part of their group.

~~~

The kids couldn’t have been much older than he was. Or, rather, they were all close in age.

The youngest was 13, a male named Alex. He was caucasian boy, which was unusual in their little commmunity. He was barely making it in school. His skin was fair, and he had freckles in his shoulders and cheeks. He was small and skinny, clearly not eating enough. His hair was a dusty brown, buzzed on the sides, long on top.

The oldest was 16, another boy named Caleb. He had dark, chocolate brown skin and gentle, brown eyes, yet hardened. He had a scar on his jaw.

The second oldest was Ida, who was also 16, younger than Caleb by a few months. Both of them were dropouts. She had long, dark hair and tan skin, slightly darker than Lance’s. Her eyes were blue, but a lighter shade. Baby blue, Lance would call them.

Next was Brett, another dark skinned male. He was 15, and like Alex, barely making it in school. He had failed a grade because of it. His skin was darker than Caleb’s, and he looked intimidating. He stood tall, well over the others. He had green eyes, which Lance liked.

Finally, there was Ronnie, who was 14, like Lance was. He, too, had dropped out of school, not having the willpower or grades to move forward. He was mixed, with an accent. His skin was lighter than Lance’s, but darker than Alex’s. He had brown eyes.

They exchanged contact information and secret codes. They became a group that day.

Soon after, they found a secluded area in the woods, somewhere no one visited. They built a treehouse out of stolen wood planks and nails, which they actually bought.

~~~

Lance was the first to quit doing drugs and abusing alcohol. He was 16 and done with where he was going.

He had raised his grades a year prior to quitting, getting his life back on track.

His friends supported him every step of the way.

Then, they too, started to quit.

First was Alex. He was still struggling in school, but he decided to pull himself together.

Next, Ida. She quit after going to a college party, and to the dismay of Lance and the others, she got drunk and raped.

She was pregnant, and couldn’t afford an abortion. So she quit like Alex and Lance, wanting a good life for her kid.

The boys helped her, every day, even going as far as to scrape together money for check-ups. The ones who could drive, took turns driving her to the clinic.

Caleb, Brett and Ronnie quit at the same time. They had all dropped out long ago, but to make up for it, gained full-time jobs to at least do something productive.

They didn’t entirely escape, though. With Ida being called a whore and a druggie, the boys other slurs, it was hard. But they managed.

Until the day Lance was accepted into the Garrison.

~~~

They had all been in Lance’s room, Ida halfway through her second term.

They met up at eachother’s houses on a regular basis to just talk, or sit in silence and enjoy eachother’s company.

This time, they had been brainstorming baby names, (it’s a girl!) with Ida, all of them excited. All of them were eager to help her, too.

Lance’s mom had walked in, their chattering subsiding.

She walked to Lance and handed him an envelope.

“Here, mi hijo. It’s the Garrison letter.” She walked away with that, humming a tune.

They all expectantly looked at Lance when she left.

He ever so slowly opened the seal, feeling the smooth wax against his finger, and lifted the flap. He pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it.

He read the first line and screamed.

~~~

His friends jumped, startled. They immediately peppered him with questions.

“Did you get in?”

“Oh god, did they deny you?”

“Whats wrong?”

“Is it good news?”

Ida hushed them, smacking each of the boys, except Lance, on the arm. “Let him explain, all of you!”

Lance shakily inhaled. “I got..” he was frowning, the others worried. Did he get in?

Lance’s frown then turned into a smile. “I got accepted into the Garrison as a cargo pilot!”

His friends cheered, Caleb and Ida the loudest.

“Were proud of you, Lance.” Alex sloppily grinned, hugging Lance’s neck.

“Yeah!” The rest of them agreed, hugging him from all sides. Ida was in front of him, the boys careful to not accidently hurt her.

“You’re going to do great things, Lance.” Ida had gently smiled at him, a hand laying on her stomach.

~~~

Lance walked back into his dorm, throwing his bag on his bed, collapsing onto the desk chair. He opened up his labtop, figuring he would have a few hours to chat with his group about his first day at the Garrison, maybe even get a movie in.

Before he could do anything, he got a skype call. He accepted and turned on face cam.

On the other side of the camera, his friends were all there. He got questions thrown his way as soon as his face popped up.

“How’d it go?”

“Have you replaced us yet?”

“Any friends?”

The last thing he heard was, “Ida’s packing up for her hospital stay soon!” It was from Alex, he figured from the young voice.

“What?” Lance gaped.

“Alex!” Ida hissed. “Anyways, yeah. Im getting contractions so I have to go earlier than I planned.”

“Do you have the money?? I can send some down!” Lance fretted, worrying for her.

She laughed. “Chill, Lancey Lance. The boys here already helped me get enough money in for the stay, and the actual birth. I’ll be fine.”

Caleb, Brett, Ronnie and Alex gave thumbs up.

Lance snickered.

“Well, I hope so. Give me a call if anything pops up. I’ll be happy to help.” Lance jolted in his seat, remebering something.

“Oh! That reminds me. Caleb, Brett, Ronnie, or even Alex. Make sure you call me before the baby is due! I want to fly down so I can be there with you guys.”

“Woah, seriously, baby bro? You’d do that for me?” Ida cooed.

Lance winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Uh, Lance? Who are you talking to?” Lance whipped around as the door clicked shut, meeting the eyes of a startled Hunk.

“Oh, hi Hunk. C'mere and meet some of my hometown friends.”

Hunk hesitated. Then, he walked over to Lance, crouching beside the chair. “Uh, h-hello?”

The call crackled with bursts of voices.

“Guys!! Shush!” Ida hissed.

They all did.

“Okay then. Hunk, this is Ida,” she waved, hand on her growing belly, “Caleb, Ronnie, Alex and Brett. I’ve known them for 3 years now.”

Said friends all waved.

“Guys, meet Hunk. He’s my roommate and engineer (?).”

“Well, anyways, I’ll talk to you lot tomorrow. I have homework to do.” He hung up the call an closed his labtop.

~~~ (flashback end)

Lance sighed as he walked into the training room in full paladin armour, bayard at his side. He yawned, tired. He hadn’t gotten a blink of sleep that night.

That was because Pidge had made an accurate calendar of Earth, and Lance had realized bow much he had truly missed.

Including the day where Ida’s daughter was due for birth.

That struck him the hardest, because he remembered his promise to her, and his friends.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He had told them over a skype call. But he did miss it. And it broke his heart.

He was the last one there. He didn’t care, though. The universe could let him have one day where he didn’t feel great.

Well, he felt awful actually. Even more than that. But, who cares?

Not Lance, that’s for damn sure.

[duelingdestiny]

1-10 multi muse

is there a muse that you wish gets more attention?In general I don’t think Amasis has ever gotten the attention he deserves but then again, I haven’t had him as a public muse before. if you HAD to choose, who’s your favorite muse?

Dammit that’s not fair. Lance probably. He’s just mah boi. which muse is the trickiest to get into character for?

It’s honestly going to be Cas because I haven’t written him in SO long. is there a muse that not a lot of people roleplay with?Amasis and Yuugi out of all of them get the least ‘screen time’ I plan to change that lol. if you HAD to choose, who’s your least favorite muse?

Not my least fave, but the most difficult to get to cooperate? Loki. Hands fucking down. Little fucker. which one of your muses have you been playing the longest?

That would be Cas. He’s been around for as long as I’ve been on Tumblr and I’m the fucking LION TURTLE of Tumblr. which one of your muses has the most ships?

Honestly it’s Atem but not on Tumblr. In the TOD verse though. Or on Discord. Here it’s probably Lancey-Lancewhat is each of your muses otps? notps?

Oh fucking hell. Buckle in fuckers. 

OTPS

Atem: Pride and Dark. 

Lance: Klance I also like Hance and Shance but Klance has the number one spot in my heart. 

Trevor: FUCKING ALUCARD AND TREVOR FOREVER.

Todoroki: UNPOPULAR OPINION ALERT: Todobaku. So good. 

Loki: Frostiron, Greenfrost, and sometimes Cap and Loki 

Amasis: He’s an OC but me and @game-weaver have this ship on Discord and it’s so cuuuuuuute. They’re both magicians and just ksjhdfskjdhg. 

Yuugi: Klepto, Rival and if the feel is right Puzzle. 

Cas: Destiel, Samstiel, Lucstiel, Cas loves everyone okay? 

NOTPS

Atem: Only the REALLY obvious ones like Aknadin and HIs father, Yuugi’s grandfather ect. Anyone else is free game lol.

Lance: Pidge if Pidge is too young but that’s pretty much it. Lance is all about that connection. 

Trevor: I’m sorry but this is a chemistry thing with him so I don’t KNOW yet.

Todoroki: Once again, I work on chemistry with this one. Except for okay yeah Dabi because of speculations. 

Loki: Thorki is a fucking no. 

Amasis: Anyone is fair game here. 

Yuugi: Really just the obvious ones. 

Cas: Cas loves everyone so I’m not picky here. 

why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

Atem: I don’t know. He’s not my fave, But my friend wanted to write Bakura and Atem as enemies and she wanted Bakura so I took Atem. I can’t even IMAGINE not writing him now though. Lance: HA! Lance is me. I am Lance there is no difference except I’m a chick who isn’t Cubano, but I eat like I am lololol. We have the exact same personality it’s crazy to see in action. But if you talk to me on the regular you know it’s true. Trevor: One line: Floating Vampire Jesus. Nuff said. (Also not true the one about God pissing in his breakfast is fucking golden too)Todoroki: How can ANYONE not be drawn to this sassy soba slurping NERD. Like. He’s just fucking amazing. “HAND BREAKER.” Loki: Loki is my fucking everything. He is everything I have ever wanted in a villian. He’s complex, deep, highly unpredictable and has so many different layers to him he’s just fascinating to explore. 

Amasis: There was this awesome group of people who were doing like a mage server before discord was cool and I wanted to play so I made my first OC ever and I fucking LOVE his crabby ass. 

Yuugi: I’m going to be honest. Three years ago when I decided to rp Yuugi I didn’t feel like anyone was playing him right. Then DSOD came along and Yuugi was EXACTLY like I play mine. Sassy, snarky a little shit. Which meant I was RIGHT, but also there are a LOT Of Yuugi’s out there now, but he’s still here so I’ll let people play with him. Cas: Cas was my first muse and I just love Castiel I love Misha Collins. I have such a love for this character but more importantly, I feel in love with Endverse!Cas immediately. That’s how my Cas came about. 

which muse is the most fun to write for?

Lance. It’s just easy. And like…yeah we talk the same so it’s always fun to just write what I would do in a situation.