#lack of prison break content is my final straw

[enha-stars]

now where are the michael scofield fics

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.14

Hunk drove a very hyper Pidge home. Letting her mix flavours had been a bad idea, Pidge talking the whole drive home so fast that Lance was surprised she was managing to drink her slushies in between her words. Promising his best buddy he’d fill him in the following morning, Lance felt a little awkward as he let him and Keith into his empty house. His beloved bronco wasn’t back yet, Shiro extremely lucky Lance didn’t have his phone number to hound him about taking care of his baby girl. Hovering at the base of the stairs, both men stood their awkwardly. Lance feeling weird as he knew he needed to say something, but wasn’t sure what that something was. Playing it safe, he opted for an apology. Keith’s life had been thrown in turmoil, just like Lance’s, and the man clearly missed his brother, something Lance couldn’t make better for him. Maybe if they’d met when in college, he and Keith could have been friends. Keith’s anger clearly stemmed from trauma, his repeated fixation on thinking he’d been turned very clearly said that. Lance had the feeling is had something to do with whatever happened to Shiro’s partner, but he wasn’t in the position to pry.

“Hey. I’m sorry we dragged you out. I know I was kind of a pushy, and you can probably put that down to my people pleasing personality, but I hope some part of tonight was enjoyable. It’s no easy, or fun, being on the outside, but Hunk and Pidge are good people. I’m not just using them to blend in, it was never like that. They’re both special to me. I know we’re like strangers and it’s awkward as hell living together, but I think after tonight I like you a little more than I did. I don’t think you’re a fundamentally bad person, and I’m not going to push you to talk to me. I guess what I want to say is, that I swear on Blue I’m not in the habit of hurting people. That doesn’t mean much coming from a vampire, because honestly, most of us are huuuuuuge douche canoes. But as long as you’re under my roof, I’m going to treat you like an actual human being, and not as “Keith the hunter”. I don’t know how many times I can apologise for being what I am, but I’m too much of a coward to off myself. I thinking part of my emotional growth was stunted from being turned... and, well, yeah. I’ll let you head to bed or whatever. If you can’t sleep, help yourself to whatever. I would prefer you stay out of my office for the sake of my clients, but I know you can get in there anyway... yeah... anyway, I’m headed up to bed... I’ll see you in the morning”

Lance’s undead heart leapt when Keith opened his mouth, only to fall when Keith closed his mouth and looked away. He’d probably said too much again. He was trying so damn hard, and he wasn’t exactly sure why it even mattered. Until Shiro came back, both he and Keith were left in limbo... Lance still kind of hoped that Shiro leaving Keith with him meant the older hunter wasn’t about to come for his head in the middle of the night, and that some time apart would make it easy for Shiro to see his brother was very much the human idiot he’d always been.

“How old are you?”

Lance nearly dropped the remnants of his slushy in surprise. Strawberry hadn’t been the smartest choice. Pidge had teased him about looking like a vampire for having red around his lips, and all over his teeth. Honesty was best when dealing with people in trauma

“I’m 44. In human years”

“Okay”

That was it. The limit of Keith’s vocabulary for the night. The hunter trudging towards his room, leaving Lance to walk up the stairs to his own. Stripping down and changing for bed, Blue let out a rumbled purr as she came running into his room and leapt up onto his bed to wait for him. He really must look like the lamest vampire Keith had ever met. Just a lonely vampire and his cat, living in the middle of nowhere. It was a good thing Lance didn’t mind being lame.

*

Lance’s dreams were horrible. He’d woken half a dozen times unable to escape the feelings flowing through his body. His teeth hurt, cutting into his lip as he huddled against his bedhead. He felt flushed with fever, arm aching as if he’d broken it. The skin had healed over the wound, but it itched so badly Lance wanted to scratch until it bled. Shivering and sick, he’d fallen back to sleep around dawn, waking with a throat feeling as though clogged with his death soil. Blue hadn’t left him, though that might not have been her choice given the door to his bedroom was closed, instead of slightly open so Blue could come and go as she pleased.

Showering only made Lance feel worse, he couldn’t get the temperature to cooperate and nearly tore the tap handle off it’s fitting trying. He ended up feeling like soggy cardboard, all wet and useless, as he towelled off and peered in the least cracked slither of mirror left. Today was definitely a day for make up. No amount of blood was going to bring back colour into his dulled skin. Being the youngest, he’d spent many a time as his older sister Rachel’s model. Mami had beaten her arse red on more than one occasion when Rachel had tried using nail polish as eyeshadow... his sister not the most skilled person to be giving anyone a make over, but his other sister Veronica had grown out of all of that kind of thing by the time Rachel had gotten old enough to be right into all frilly girly things, leaving Lance to be her victim repeatedly. After he’d turned, all of that had stopped. Initially his Papi would gently send everyone away from him, until his Mami took him by the ear and reminded him that though different, Lance was still their baby boy. When he’d been older his Papi apologised, but he never knew how good a vampire‘s memory was, that those days still stayed with Lance no matter how many years had passed. Today was not the day to be looking like a movie extra in a budget film, his whole face felt choked as he smeared his foundation on, before giving his lips a quick coat of waterproof lipstick, though humans had never really got the recipe for that right. Continuing his morning routine, he dressed as nicely as he could shirt wise, then opted for sweats on the bottom. It wasn’t like his conference call was going to be worried about his lack of proper attire when his shirt looked professional enough.

Coming downstairs, Lance darted through to his office, teeth aching all over again as he opened a bag of blood, messily drinking down the contents like he hadn’t been fed for days. Coran had said to expect a low, but this was nearing ridiculous. He wasn’t in any fit condition to entertain Keith with half hearted fighting, let alone provide legal representation to the clients trusting him in. Spilling blood across his laptop came as the final straw, Lance sinking to the floor where he balled himself under his desk, to scared to call Coran, and too scared to sit up and human. Instead he remained hidden there until his laptop started to ring, letting him know he’d spent a good three hours wallowing rather pathetically.

Before the family court, the matter took all of 15 minutes. Lance speaking smoothly, as he bounced his left leg, hands digging into his sweats hard enough that his nails had ripped through. Things would have been different if he’d known he could jump in his car and straight up to Platt, instead of this horrible feeling like he was a prisoner in his own home. The little voice in his head mocked him for not being able to pick up his phone and call Coran, paranoid over how Keith would act if Coran came running because he couldn’t keep his shit together. He didn’t want to die. Not while his Mami still lived. He didn’t want to break her heart, or prove the rest of his siblings right. He didn’t want Coran to be hurt, not that he thought Keith had the power to take Coran down... it was just... sometimes words left a wound that even the deepest blade was left dull in comparison. Keith was lashing out, hitting that target without aiming, like being caught in a spray of bullets. Coran didn’t deserve that with all the good for Lance and those like him. For Keith’s sake, Lance needed to keep all this shit secret. The hunter had signed up for his head, not his sob story.

Leaving the office, Lance headed into the kitchen. Keith at the kitchen bench trying to figure out the coffee machine. Dropping the pod in his hands, the hunter picked it back up without saying anything, but he didn’t need to. Lance knew how weak and pathetic he was, he could see it reflected in Keith’s brilliant eyes. Wordlessly he went to the cupboard, pulling out a can of wet food for Blue, Keith taking half a step away from him as he did. It stung. The not so covert action rubbed him the wrong way, not that he’d say so out loud. Pulling the ring tab back, Lance stubbed his toe on the counter as he reached for Blue’s dish. The act bringing tears to his eyes as he finally broke. Sinking down to the floor, he was showing Keith the most shameful side of him that he humanly could.

“Do you take sugar in your coffee?”

The question hung in the air, Lance’s face hidden behind his hands as he wept.

“Lance, do you take sugar in your coffee?”

Keith had said his name. Without any malice or prompting... he didn’t understand why

“I take three usually”

Why was Keith talking to him?

“Shiro says it too many, but I like three. You seem more like a one person”

“A one person”. Keith, who didn’t even think of him as human, was there in his kitchen calling him a person

“Am I really so useless that you’re wasting time on me?”

Lance regretted the harsh tone in his words. Wiping at his teary eyes, he looked up at the hunter to find him looking down on him

“Well you’re practically an animal, but... I think maybe I don’t hate you as much as I should”

Laughter bubbled up, Lance not blaming Keith for stepping back as his tears turned to laughter

“You can go fuck yourself if you’re going to be like that”

Lance’s laughter sobered, the vampire sniffling loudly. Okay. Keith was acting “Keithy” again, he could understand that

“One. Two if Pidge and Hunk are here”

Keith took a moment before a silent “oh” of realisation formed on his lips, turning back to the coffee machine as he tried to fit the pod in properly

“I... I have nightmares too”

Lance cringed. Asleep he hadn’t been able to consciously hold back. Keith had probably heard him screaming the house down, now taking pity on his undead arse

“I heard you calling for someone... friends or something. You we’re really fucking loud”

“I’m sorry”

“Who were they?”

“People who don’t matter”

They didn’t matter but that didn’t mean they weren’t always on his mind

“Nyma and Rolo?”

Lance shuddered at their names. They’d parted so long ago that it didn’t feel fair he should be forced to remember them

“People you don’t want to meet”

“I gathered from your screams. Are they the ones who turned you? Or were they friends?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“You say vampires never forget, does that mean you remember what happened with them?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“So they sired you?”

Lance put his hands over his ears

“Shut up”

“If they did...”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”

Screaming in anger, Lance hated Keith in that moment for pushing. Nyma and Rolo had been his friends. The keyword being “had”. He was allowed to have things he didn’t want to talk about. Those two were in his past, not is future. Letting his head dropped back, it smacked against the cupboard without enough force to be satisfying. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to break something. He wanted to tear himself out of his own skin. Nudged with Keith’s foot, he shot a look of rage up at Keith, the hunter holding out a cup of coffee

“Drink this. Shiro said he won’t be back for a while, but he was sending someone out to watch over you until he could be”

“I don’t need watching over”

Taking the coffee cup, the handle snapped before Keith had let go completely. Pulling the mug back, the hunter cut his hand on the protruding porcelain at the bottom. Hit by the smell of Keith’s blood, Lance felt all his senses come alive with the need to feed. Both their eyes widened as they met, both in fear over the situation. Keith feared Lance was about to maul him, as Lance feared how good Keith’s blood smelt.

Lance did the only thing he could do. He ran. Keith left staring as he bolted from the kitchen, his hand snapping through the bottom of the staircase railing as the grabbed it to use his momentum to get up his stairs just that little bit faster, tripping in his rush, but pushing himself on faster in the same heartbeat. Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him, dragging his dresser over to barricade himself in. He hadn’t needed his phone in the office, so left it up on its charge station. Snatching up the device, he copped a glance of his reflection, disgusted at the sight of himself. His hands shook as he unlocked the device, calling the only number he could, Coran. With first ring, he found he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t run to Coran for help. He couldn’t tell him there was something still wrong with him. His phone thrown in disgust where the force shattered the device on impact, and dented the floorboard it’d hit. He didn’t know what to do, but he did know he was a mistake.

[aeris-blue]

Pillow Talk

Apparently the Grilster Discord is sharing Flangst? Fluffy angst? So here is my attempt :P

There’s some swearing in this one but sometimes you just gotta. 

Gaster did his best to suppress his sigh as he flattened himself against the mattress. He’d lost track of all sense of time but he could tell from the fatigue that rested with the contentment he wished he could that it was late. Even watching Grillby’s tongues of fire drift lazily across his reddened sleep cast form did nothing for him tonight. His mind was keeping his body prisoner and there was nothing he could do about it. 

He eyed the bed that was currently occupied by two bunny plushes and pondered if he should move over there so he didn’t disturb his partner. Maybe if he read for a while his mind would drift? There was an essay he could type on his phone if he turned the brightness down… but moving felt like far too much work. Sleep, he commanded himself but such spells were outside of his talents.

A plethora of quiet pops filled the silence of the room as Grillby rolled lazily over to him. He wrapped an arm around Gaster and rested his head in the gap between Gaster’s ribs and humerus. “..........” Gaster’s synesthesia read as a plethora of fire like pops and hisses flickered against him.

Gaster wrapped Grillby’s hands around his own: ‘Sleep Star.’ Hands was a wonderful language but it was difficult for anyone to understand when they were half asleep (even excluding Grillby’s vision problems). When it was needed in the middle of the night it was best to keep it simple. Gently, Grillby nuzzled his face against Gaster’s ribs and he chuckled a bit, ‘Sleep.’

“....can’t.”

‘You’re doing a good job now.’

“You can’t.”

A smile teased across his teeth, his partner was so tired, barely even awake, ‘I can’t what?’

“Sleep,” he pulled Gaster’s hands up to his cheek to rub against them like an affectionate cat.

‘No,’ he admitted.

“.....?”

‘What?’ Stars he was absolutely adorable like this, the way his tongues of flame curled sleepily against themselves, how his tiny white eyes came into view just a few moments before they disappeared behind a sea of red, and how he spoke so openly in his own language was nothing short of endearing. He pressed his teeth to his Starling’s forehead in a gentle peck.

“Talk, do ya wanna?” His white eyes squinted up to Gaster.

‘Sleep love.’

Grillby stretched across the top of Gaster’s ribs to grab his glasses on the nightstand then stretched his arms above his head. His usual oranges began to flicker across the reds but he was still nowhere near awake. ‘I’m fine Starling wouldn’t be the first time insomnia found me.’

Those white eyes scanned over every inch of his face before he decided to kiss the side of his skull, “What are you thinking about?”

‘Lots of things, you know how my mind just wanders,’ he gestured nonchalantly but it was becoming obvious this wasn’t something he could wave away.

“Like what?” He propped himself up comfortably against his pillow like a child ready for storytime. 

‘I don’t know… things?’ He ran his hands over his skull, ‘I guess… How much I miss being a dad.’

“You are a dad,” Grillby’s tired mind felt the need to remind him, “and a good one, you’ve got two very good boys.”

‘I know.’ He did, he had two wonderful sons who cared about him very much in spite of everything but: ‘I just won’t ever get to be as close with them as I was.’ His little boys were adults now, adults who remembered going through most of their life without anyone there to care for them. Suddenly there was this stranger they had to let dote on them but… they didn’t need that. They didn’t need an absent father who just now wanted to claim his kids after leaving them.

They cared about him so much. They teased, they laughed, they cried, they experienced everything together but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t ever going to be the same again. ‘Hypothetically speaking if we could have a child would you want one?’

“Like adopt?”

‘Sure,’ he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” his voice trailed off as he stared up to the dimly lit ceiling. “We have a pretty big family right now and I love all three of our kiddos.”

‘Yeah.’

“Do you want another kid?”

No, it was a simple word even ‘not really’ would suffice but his body was tired and those white lights were shining with a burning honesty, ‘Yeah.’ Grillby’s flames lilted to the side and Gaster forced himself to sit up right, ‘Not right now! And honestly probably never I just--’ He clamped his teeth together as if that could stop his hands from talking, ‘daydream about it a lot.’

“You do?” The genuinely confused expression read plainly across his features.

‘Yes. I just… wouldn’t mind having that sort of connection again,’ his hands scrunched the blankets over his legs, without all of the void nonsense. No hesitations no half memories or grasping at straws, just someone that looked up to him and only saw him and none of the darkness he carried with him. 

Someone he could nurture and care for, do homework with, help build, play, and explore as they learned about who they were. Teaching them how to make bullets or pings souls. He missed it. He missed it so much and he hated that all of those fond memories he had of such things belonged to him alone now. It would never be the same between him and his boys, or his friends, or even Grillby. 

He was proud of the relationships he had forged in spite of everything but, well, he just missed how things were. A part of him was constantly yearning for a day someone would just smile softly as they truly recognized him for who he had been. 

Though, he had that already, Grillby already saw him, already knew him and in ways he never had before. It was wrong of him to want such things, it was his fault after all, so, he deserved this. These feelings were his burden for his mistakes and dragging everyone else along with him was his fate.

A warm hand settled on Gaster’s back and he stilled the rattling he hadn’t realized he was doing, “It’s okay Bun. Lay back down, relax,” he coaxed Gaster back down to his pillow. He rubbed his back a bit awkwardly from underneath it but Gaster didn’t mind. Grillby’s magic was so soothing, so warm, he couldn’t ever complain. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another kid right now.”

‘And that’s fine, it’s stupid.’

“No it’s not,” Grillby stated with such a firm authority that Gaster didn’t dare argue further. “Is there a particular reason it’s bothering you right now?”

‘Nothing I can think of.’ It was the truth he really didn’t know why it had been sticking in his side like an unwanted thorn after a brisk walk through a briar patch.

“You just miss how close you used to be with your sons don’t you?” His words were an arrow loosed by an amatuer marksman that had miracullously found its way to Gaster’s soul. A hiccup escaped him as he tried to bury the thought but Grillby worked much faster. He rested his head softly against Gaster’s, “Not just them either.”

An old part of him told him to run, to flip the covers off and go, just out the door to the kitchen or out to the yard, just away before Grillby could see just how harshly he could break but the new him just clamped his teeth and nodded. ‘It’s terrible of me isn’t it?’ Everyone was so open and willing to accept him despite their lack of history and here he was clinging to images of them cast in a different light. They had once been limestone statues beautiful, gorgeous, and breathtaking now they were made of a fine marble: smooth, polished, finished. They all basked in these new forms and here he was coveting limestone. Everyone was better off but he wanted to drag them all back.

“No.” Gaster scoffed, “Anyone who would have gone through your situation--”

His situation? The void. The fucking void! Everything boiled down to that didn’t it? How easy it was to blame all of his problems on it. He was messed up far before the void how nice it was to finally have an excuse. ‘Well no one has so we can’t exactly prove that theory now can we?’

“Gaster…” He looked genuinely hurt but for once Gaster didn’t care.

‘I’m done talking about this. I’m done with every conversation we have turning into a discussion of my failures. Do you want a kid? One no. One maybe. Alright. Done. Good night,’ he threw himself off of Grillby’s arm and ensnared his shoulder in the blanket. His magic felt as if it was seering itself into blisters inside of his marrow as he tried to calm himself down but he couldn’t. He hated this. He hated it and it didn’t matter. Nothing could be done. Nothing could be fixed. He’d wake up tomorrow and remember just how loved he was and forget all about how tacky and tar like he felt right now.

The bed jostled as Grillby sat up but it continued to shift gently even after it should have settled. It took a moment for Gaster to swallow his pride enough to look up to Grillby. Gentle black flakes settled across the blankets and suddenly Gaster wished he was a slug or some other low level being that just couldn’t bring themself to care.

He sat up and rubbed his shoulder against Grillby’s, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’

“Why do you always apologize?” Grillby rested his head atop his arms as they rested over his knees, “You don’t have to.”

‘Yes I do,’ he wiped a patch of soot away that had settled over the base of Grillby’s glasses, ‘you apologize when you’re in the wrong.’

“It was an accident… right? That’s what you told me.” His voice sounded so tired just from the effort of speaking this early. “You didn’t know that platform was going to buckle, you didn’t know your own experiment was going to turn against you, you didn’t know you were going to be scattered across time and space.”

‘I should have--’

“It was an accident!” Grillby turned to look at him directly and he was just barely holding back the anger he felt. “There was nothing you could have done.”

Tears pricked at Gaster’s sockets then why did it feel like it was his fault? Why did he spend so many nights angry with himself for not doing things the right way? ‘I’m so--’ Grillby shot him a look and he pulled his fist away from his chest. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he rubbed his hand in circles along Grillby’s back for a while until the soot stopped wafting about them.

‘Let's go back to sleep.’ He started to lay down but Grillby shook his head. 

“It’s not your fault,” he reiterated, “it’s not.” His breathing hitched and he buried his face again, “I should have been there when you came back. With open arms and a warm blanket telling you just how much I missed you.” He rubbed frantically at his eyes, “I should have remembered you.”

‘What? Grillby no, I told you there’s--’

“I know you meant as much to me then as you do now, just in a different way,” a shudder sent sparks from his shoulders, “and I forgot you.” His hands gripped at his knees, “And you hate me for it don’t you?” He turned fast enough to catch Gaster’s shocked expression that he flustered to hide.

‘No, Grillby I couldn’t--’

“Don’t lie!” His mouth conjured for the first time that early morning to snarl at him, “I hate me for it. How could you not?”

Gaster clamped his teeth, ‘I--’ He dropped his hands and threw himself against his pillow.

“You do.”

A breathy sigh caught itself in his ribs, ‘I don’t hate you for it. I can’t hate anyone for it.’ He pulled the blankets snuggly over him in hopes of feeling bigger than he was but it didn’t help anything but the cold. ‘It just… upsets me. I hate holding my breath when someone pauses over something that should be familiar to them before they pass on it. I hate dreaming of my friends suddenly remembering who I was then waking up to remember that’s not the case. I hate this situation. But I could never, ever, hate you.’

Grillby laid down beside him and this time Gaster wrapped his arms around him, “I hate this situation too.”

Gaster was not quite strong enough to let go of his partner so he conjured a pair of hand bullets to sign for him, ‘It sucks.’

A smile stitched itself over his tired flames in spite of himself, “It does.”

‘But it’s not your fault.’

“It’s not yours either.” He kissed the base of Gaster’s jaw, “It just sucks.”

‘It does.’

The silence was clumsy and awkward for a while before Grillby took the incentive to cut it off: “I love you.”

“I love you,” he took a quick play bite at Grillby’s neck before he was quickly entrapped by those mighty warm arms. There was nowhere safer, nowhere better to be, than in those arms. 

Finally, sleep found him.

[acrownofblueroses]

Klance Fic Recs- AU Settings Pt II

FANTASY

Mermaids/Sirens Watercast (WIP) by fishwrites Shiro has been a Galra prisoner for over a year; with his flight feathers clipped and unable to fly. Desperate to escape, he jumps overboard while being transported to the capitol on a Galran ship. Lance is a merman who saves him from drowning. Keith thinks Shiro is about to become mermaid dinner. Hunk just wants Lance to stop going to the surface all the time, dammit!

(AU where Avians (winged folk), Galra, humans and merfolk cohabit earth. Shiro and Keith are avian soldiers, Lance is the youngest son of a Queen, Hunk is also a merman and Pidge is still looking for her family.)

Pass Like the Weather by crxzy “What’s it like?” “What’s what like?” “You know, being a mermaid and all.” “It’s very wet.”

AKA- that vaguely sad, slightly angsty, mainly just cute and kinda strange mermaid AU that nobody asked for but me.

Moonset Deep (WIP) by MilkTeaMiku All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

For Lance, humans were a mystery. He'd lived beneath the surface of the ocean with his shoal his entire life, and had intended to remain there. He knew the danger humans posed to his kind, and what would happen if he came close to one. That's why, when he found one drowning, his first instinct was to save him.

He'd never been good at following the rules anyway.

To Resist the Siren’s Call (WIP) by leolovesnico Ever since the death of his mother, Lance McClain can't bring himself to love the sea as his father does- who knows what could lurk beneath the surface? With the threat of a war looming over his head, Lance needs to face his face in order to save their country from the Galra. (Fantasy au, mermaid au, voltron secret santa gift 2016)

the sea pronounces something by legendarydesvender “You’re the best we have.”

“Shiro was the best and we all know what happened to him.”

“That’s the thing, Kogane — we don’t know what happened to him, or the Holts, or anyone else who went in there and never returned. There is a good chance you won’t make it back either. But if you don’t give a damn about that, the mission details are in here.”

Keith shrugs. “Well, I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

***

AU where Keith is a sailor and Lance is the siren trying to drown him.

See You Tomorrow by Craptastic He stands frozen as a creature of magnificent beauty swims up to him with a smirk on his lips. The dwindling sunlight catches the creature's iridescent tail causing the colors to alter between shades of blue and green. The creature is a thing of fairy tales with half a body of a human and the other of a fish. The beauty that lays before him was from fairy tales, nothing in reality could be as beautiful.

It has to be a dream.

breathless by zxrysky "You shouldn't go out to the sea at night," their grandmother says. She's in a rocking chair, old and creaky, her withered body settled with a shawl around her shoulders, wrinkled fingers gripping the edges of the arm rest. "Don't risk it."

"Risk what?" Shiro asks, eyes wide. He's fourteen, just a young boy, on the cusp of maturity, arms wrapped around his younger brother as they sit before their grandmother.

His grandmother pauses for a while. "There is danger in the sea."

Going Under by sun_stricken Lance takes a dangerous spill in the ocean and is saved by none other than a mermaid with weird hair.

Or: a mermaid keith au, with not even gratuitous amounts of surfing sorry my bad

Seafoam Castles (WIP) by milkdromedas Lance has what one may be able to call a near-death, close-encounter experience with a mer...person.

No, really.

Elemental Powers (a la Avatar Last Airbender ish) Foundations by needchocolatenow When Keith met Lance, it was over a briny sea.

Soulmates I Will Follow by jamwrites Keith and Lance are bound by their soulmate tattoos, bound to meet again and again with each new new life. When lives hang in the balance, that bond will be sorely tested.

An explosion of golden pleasure and joy and love for Keith rushed through Lance’s body like a tidal wave, every bit as strong as when the flower had first bloomed. His legs suddenly were gooey; it was everything he could do not to crumple to the floor.

“Okay, okay,” Lance said, panting a little. “Sorry.”

But he was smiling while he said it, because now he wanted nothing more than to be close to Keith, and he could tell Keith wanted the same.

You don’t have to say “I love you”, to say I love you by haarucchii soul mate noun noun: soulmate a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.-In which Lance's soulmate, isn't really his.

A Shove Towards Love by General_Button A simple rescue mission turns into chaos when the species on the planet Novaria take an interest in the lives of two of its paladins.

In It To Win It by Lucy_Claire One of two things was happening right now, either Lance was having a heart attack on of the biggest day of his life, or he had just laid eyes on his Soulmate. _______

Competitive swimmer Lance McClain feels his Timer counting down right when he’s about to jump in the water and finish up his race. He’s faced with two choices in this moment: Continue the race and miss meeting his Soulmate at their fateful time or abandon his life’s work for someone he never met.Lance makes his choice and has to suffer the consequence of never getting back what he missed out on. Or does he?

Love and Other Questions (WIP) by squirenonny One week after news of the Kerberos disaster broke, Pidge receives a new Mark--proof that Matt is still alive. She breaks into the Garrison to find him, only to find herself caught up in the fight for the fate of the universe.Keith keeps his arms covered so he doesn't have to watch Shiro's scars compounding on his skin--but doing so means cutting off contact with his romantic soulmate, who greets him each morning with a new (and terrible) pickup line.

Shiro and Matt thought they were the luckiest people alive when they found out they were going to Kerberos together. But Shiro hasn't seen Matt's untidy scrawl on his arm in almost a year, and he has no idea if his soulmate is even still alive.

[Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)]

daytime star by draconicwyvern Keith's neighbor across the balcony is annoying. And not just annoying — Lance is get-on-your-nerves, make-you-want-to-punch-a-wall annoying. So when Lance announces he's moving to Colorado, Keith finally feels as if the world is back to being just him and the night stars.

But things don't go as planned: the paper airplanes, the scent of coffee at 1:00 a.m., the words inscribed on Keith's neck, and the slow curl of a blue flame echoing in his chest. And maybe, just maybe —

— stars do exist in the day.

in between suns by drowninships Lance thinks he would always remember Keith like this; he would always remember the glow of his eyes, the fall of his hair, and the rhythm of his laugh, the callouses of his hands.

When he sleeps, it's all he sees. In his dreams, he would never forget.It's just that — every time he wakes, he doesn't remember a thing.

--

What do you do when you meet your soulmate in your dreams but can't remember anything when you wake up? What happens when you meet them and suddenly, the dreams stop?

(Soulmate AU!!!!!)

Fragmented by darkgaaraluver In a world of soulmates, Lance drew the short straw. The indelible marks forever marked him inferior to his soulmate, and the people around him, what made it even worse were the first words that pass Keith's lips...

The Marks We Make (WIP) by wittyy_name Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he’ll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don’t say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It’s not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can’t bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he’s resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he’ll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He’s just an art student who’s struggling to find his place in the world. There’s so much he hasn’t been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can’t do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

Witches Forget Me Not (WIP) by TheHomestuckWhovian There Keith was, surrounded by all his friends, a picture of total contentment. At least, he would be, if something weren't missing.

Keith agrees to test a spell for his brother's best friend and discovers a vaguely familiar boy who no one can remember. What follows is a series of magical shenanigans that will either be tragic or entertaining as hell.

The Quilted Lion (WIP) by geewillikers Keith is stuck in New York City barely making ends meet so he and Pidge can live in a decent part of the city close to her university. They scrape by on the illegal winnings Keith makes in street boxing matches, but his manager, Shiro, decides that it's time Keith gets a side job. He's whisked into The Quilted Lion café owned by the woman Shiro's been fawning over for over a year, only to find that he has more to worry about than his lack of magic and cooking skills-

-There's a waiter at The Quilted Lion who is entirely Keith's cup of tea.

Magic Me Some Love by KaSaPe When Shiro's arm gets cut off while he is trying to protect Keith, Keith doesn't see any way to save his life but to break into the Galra's castle and steal some of their magical medicine. But nothing goes as planned and when he exits the castle empty handed he is cursed to look like a Galra until he accepts his halfbreed status. He is convinced that he has condemned Shiro to death - and then he learns of a magician that might be able to help just in time.

Meanwhile Lance didn't expect a Galra to turn up at his door, demanding him to save his half dead (human?!) friend. And he certainly didn't expect to fall in love with him either.

throw fairy dust at me by zxrysky "Are you going to do the telepathic thing?" Lance asks, standing up and dusting stray hairs off his shirt. "Where you get into my mind which, cough, is my private space?"Blue opens an eye. "Yes."

Okay, Lance isn't going to argue with that. If he were a lazy cat, he'd probably do the same. But for now, he's going to go check out some clubs, make some friends, maybe hang out with some cute girls, and Lance is a Man with A Plan.He's going to enjoy himself.

-=-

Lance is enrolled into Altean Castle. It's filled with magic.

throwing shadows by ilgaksu “Dude,” Lance says, “It’s not my fault he does this!”

“Dude,” Hunk says, and leaves it at that.

What a Cat-Astrophy by annoyedraccoon In an unlucky turn of events, Keith gets cursed and transformed into a cat. To make his life even more miserable, one college kid finds him and decides to adopt him. And worst of all, that kid was Lance.

We’ll Stir the Stars (WIP) by Latios Lance is somewhat of a talent in a family full of sea witches; His usual days consist of practicing his element, flirting with mermaids, and helping his mother brew potions for the local myths around the island. Finding an injured and stubborn dragon named Keith isn't part of that routine, but definitely changes it—and sends him traveling across the sea to recover the dragon's one and only family who was captured by hunters.

Lance only hopes they won't bite each other's heads' off before they even get there.

Dragons He Who Fights Monsters by magisterpavus In a world where monstrous dragons terrorize humanity daily, the Garrison trains valiant Knights to slay the evil beasts and defend Earth. But when Knight cadet Lance Espinosa is kidnapped by a strange red dragon who kills its own kind, certain truths are revealed...and so are the true monsters.

Incubi Sure sounded good at the time by GemmaRose Keith believes in a lot of things, cryptids and aliens and conspiracy theories among them. What he does not believe in, however, are ghosts and curses and demons. Those are as fake as fairy tales. Except for the part where they're really, really not.

Crossposted from the Voltron kink meme.

Vampires one more off key anthem (let your teeth sink in) by maryams Keith sucks at being a vampire and Lance is going to hell. Nothing strange here.

or, supernatural boyfriends go shopping and are confounded by The Gayness™.

Ghosts The Quiet (WIP) by MilkTeaMiku Does he not realise he's dead?

Keith can see ghosts. As a part of his Garrison training, he's sent to a hospital to do one year of medical clerkship - it's there that he meets a charmingly irritating ghost who definitely needs to learn what boundaries are.

your favorite ghosts and planets by xShieru In hindsight, an asthma attack in the middle of the day wasn’t such a terrible way to give up the ghost.

Except this isn't how he imagined afterlife.

An AU about being dead.

[sending-the-message]

Pay close attention to the Music of your dreams. by INeedToTellMyTale

I love music. I come from a line of musicians. My father has a mariachi, his dad did also and so do a few of my uncles. While I was always too thick headed to learn how to play an instrument (not for the lack of trying I spent 4 unsuccessful years in Band class), I have always appreciated their sound. I am actually listening to piano music as a write this, funny.

Because of my love for music, my dreams are often filled with sound. On many occasions I have woken up humming a familiar tune, while having completely forgotten the content of the dream. While as an adult these tend to often be songs I have been listening to too much of, when I was a kid, they would be completely original pieces that I had never heard before. In fact, part of why I wanted to learn an instrument was to recreate the songs from my childhood dreams.

Because music is powerful.

It can be a time machine.

When I listen to Breaking Benjamin's Evil Angel I am immediately transported to my teenage years when I would spend sleepless nights reading One Piece chapters. I can see the fight between Luffy and the Thunder God, despite no longer being able to remember his name.

When I was ten or so, I heard a song I had never heard before. It was played by a violin and it was beautiful. It was a sound that I can only describe as melancholic, almost feudal. For the next week I was obsessed with it. I would hum it constantly, fearful that if I didn't I would forget it. Every night I hummed it to sleep hoping to hear it again, unbastardized by my 10 year old pipes.

I soon understood that I had no control over the music box in my dreams. Defeated, I let it go. I would still hum it every once in a while, but I had come to the realization that I would never dream it again.

Years passed, I grew up, failed at learning to play the violin, graduated high school, but I still loved music. But I loved other things too; namely, psychedelics. While I was blazing through grad school, on my off time me and my high school buddies thought it was the funnest thing in the world to get together and do shrooms or LSD. A break from the fast paced life of graduate papers. I remember one time getting so messed up that I sat in the corner for all of 5 minutes thinking I had been there a millennia travelling through the universe.

On one special occasion, it was a week before graduation, and two months before the beginning of my career, I decided to go out with a bang. My friends and I loaded up on dabs, shrooms,and LSD and took off to the middle of the woods for a crazy camping trip.

It started off wonderful from what I can remember, one guy had never taken dabs before and ended up stoned enough to try imitating the way the fire moved for a good 15 minutes. I started off with weed, then ate a few mushrooms, then decided I felt fine enough to mix LSD in.

That is when I heard a gunshot.

In retrospect it was probably some jerk illegally hunting in the higher parts of the mountain, but my ass was so high that it sent me into a panic. I was jumping around screaming and freaking everyone out. I was later told that I was yelling unintelligible nonsense about police brutality and a secret death squad. Jesus. The two friends who had pulled the sober straw had to hold me down to prevent me from hurting myself or anyone else, eventually calming me down enough for me to fall asleep.

I remember dreaming of blackness. I felt nothing, and I could see nothing.

But I could hear, ever so softly, a tune. I struggled to focus on it, like switching to a radio station while it is in the middle of a song you know but takes you a second to recognize. It began to get louder, closer, and then there it was. The long forgotten song from my childhood dream, perfectly replicated as if it was the first time. I couldn't even think. I felt like a tool created by the song for the purpose of appreciation.

As it got louder though, my vision began to return. At this point the sound was so loud it was all I could hear, but my focus was perfect.

Normally in dreams I cannot focus on small details, someone's eyes, a coin in my hand; but this was clear, I could see everything. To my surprise, I was in my parent's house. But it was different, it was.... taller. I began to walk around and realized how close I was to the ground. I was a child! I began to feel that familiar panic of my mind wanting to suck me out of a lucid dream while I struggled against it, but this dream was strong enough to keep me anchored and that feeling quickly went away. I realized that I could pick things up. I was in my old toy room, seeing toys I had not thought about in over fifteen years in vivid detail. I picked up an old The Flash action figure and ran my fingers down the side of his left leg. I had once stuck him between the back tire of my bike and the chain in order to make a cool motorcycle sound, only to realize afterwords that the sound was a result of the chain grinding away at the plastic, leaving groves on his left leg. Groves I could feel as if I was wide awake.

I was so focused on The Flash that I had not noticed a pair of eyes looking at me from outside the room; it was my younger brother. Oh my god. He was a child. No older than four.

My younger brother began doing drugs at a far younger age than I did and with less reputable people. By the time he was 14 he had already been expelled from school numerous times, by 16 he got his first DUI (he got high, took my dad's truck without asking without knowing how to drive stick and crashed it two blocks down the road into two different parked cars then zigzagged his way back leaving a trail of oil that was too easy to follow). After that arrest, he was in an out of jail, taking money from me, my parents, my sister. Finally landing in state prison when he stole a state vehicle. While I understand that I ultimately cannot control the actions of others, I always felt like we had been just a little too hard on him, that I had failed him as an older brother.

But there he was, innocent and pure as an untouched grove. I had forgotten how much bigger his head was from his tiny body when he was a kid, I used to tease him a lot about that. I used to tease him about a lot of things. He was giving me that half pleading look that meant he wanted to ask me something he knew I would say no to. I slowly walked toward him, trying to stay composed. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me burst into tears. He said something, but I couldn't hear him. I realized that the music was still playing, loud as ever, it had just blended into the background when I realized where I was.

I didn't care what he was saying, I hugged him and picked him off the floor and began to sob uncontrollably. I told him I was sorry. For picking on him, for not being the brother he needed, for not visiting him in prison. I could not hear myself talk because of the music but I knew it is what I was saying. I wanted to stay here forever, I wanted him to play with all the toys I never let him use.

But the room began to shake, the music started to fade. I knew what was happening, but I refused to accept it. I held on to my brother as tightly as I could but I could feel myself being pulled away by the current of consciousness. The last thing I saw after being ripped away were his eyes. Bright Hazel before they darkened in his older years.

I woke up to my friends shaking me. As soon as I got my bearings I took a swing at the guy who was shaking my shoulders. I caught him off guard and hit him right above the temple. He began to get pissed but calmed down after seeing me curl up into a ball sobbing and screaming.

The ride home was quiet. I told no one what happened. They didn't ask many questions.

I don't do drugs anymore. I got high a few more times after that night and as soon as I do I can see his eyes. As silly as this sounds, I am convinced that I traveled in time. I have had lucid dreams before and it is like comparing pong to 4k definition. More accurately, it is like comparing TV to real life. I could feel my brother's hair on my cheek when I hugged him. I could see the shade of yellow our old washing machine was outside of the toy room. I tasted my tears.

But I could hear nothing. Only the song.