#until then catch me on allura

[salmonwentmissing]

Here's a little klance idea:

Lance sets up a blog in the early times of Voltron with the help of Coran, and during his time he writes pretty personal stuff on it and posts it into the void. He's got like 33 followers, which isnt a lot but its nice to have his thoughts heard.

At some point during dinner, Allura talks about their reach w the coalition, and he lets it slip that he blogs and maybe that will help to boost the reach, and when Allura asks how many followers he has, he says just that. 33.

Hunk and the gang gets nosy and searches it up to read, and Allura stops dead in the tracks.

"Lance this isn't 33 followers." He's like "Yeah it is? Obviously it's 33, maybe 3 'cause why are there decimals to the number? They don't comment so it's pretty useless."

"No this isn't 33. It's 3 point 3."

"What, people?"

"Billions."

Everyone goes quiet, all staring at Lance until Hunk screams. "BILLIONS?!"

"Is THAT what that altean sign is?!" Lance gasps and points to the billion sign in altean.

Coran enters, learns about the blog and follower numbers, and just goes "Great job! You did better than I expected!"

Allura is astonished and crosschecking the reach between Lances stupid blog and the coalition's own numbers.

"You're double our numbers!" She gasps.

Hunk and Pidge are rummaging through his blog, looking for info and crumbs and embarrasments.

Keith is being silent and not looking into it, only eating his dinner while eyeing everyone else.

"You honestly thought you only had 33 followers?" He asks.

"Well duh! Nobody left comments and were silent, so ofc course I didn't think there were many."

"Well that's because I put your blog on locked comments, just in case you get space haters." Coran commented.

Aha, they all thought to themselves.

Lance only now remembered how personal some of his posts were, and immediately grabbed his phone to delete certain posts.

Ofc Hunk catches on, looks over his shoulder and yells out the names of the posts, one of them being "Mullet". Keith looks at him, finally.

"Really? You trashtalked me on your blog? That's low, even for you."

Lance is pretty flustered by this, but tries to spit back.

Turns out, Keith had been one of his first followers and already knew about all this. Was he good at being supportive in any way with words? No, absolutely not. Had he screenshotted the blogpost about him and kept a printed version of it under his bed?

Maybe.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiya!! Love your work so much😆

I was wondering if you’d write something where the paladins (especially keith hehe) have to go to a formal event like a gala to bring the coalition together (??) and how they’d ask y/n to be their date and/or how they’d react to y/n in their formal attire?? (maybe even add Matt too if you feel inspired) Thank youuu 🫶

Brooooo stoooppppp I am so weak for this idea holy shit 😩 And you are my first non anon request so THANKS FRIEND 🥹 I went with my three fav paladins 💙❤️💚AND Mattie boy 🧡Also I love writing with emojis, sorry not sorry. ENJOY DARLING~

KEITH ❤️

OH MY GOD POOR LITTLE SHY BABY BOY

He waits until the last minute to ask you, let’s be honest. Like a day before the event, he’s sitting beside you in the training room, trying to catch his breath when he goes “So that thing tomorrow. Wanna go together?” And you’re like 😏 “Are you asking me to be your date?” And now he’s like 🙄 “Shut up before I change my mind.”

It’s silent for a second but he’s staring at you. “So, are you gonna answer my question?” “Yes, Keith. I’ll be your date to the gala.” And he’s bright red in the face now.

He tries to act all cool and mysterious as you both leave the training deck and go opposite ways. As soon as you’re out of sight, he’s SPRINTING to Lance’s room.

“HELP I HAVE A DATE AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO ROMANCE!!!” 😰

He’s so fucking annoyed as he spends hours trying to memorize and properly recite pick up lines to Lance as practice.

He also totally does not steal a bottle of cologne from Lance’s bathroom before he leaves.

The morning of, he finds Shiro for wardrobe assistance. Big brother Shiro totally cleans Keith up, giving him a more semi-formal look. Keith thinks he’s too cool for a coat and tie. Shiro also convinces Keith to pull his hair back into a low pony tail.

He decides he’s just too nervous to meet you at your room so he kinda just sits on his bed for a while, fully dressed and smelling great and waiting for you.

Finally you step into his open door way, instantly catching his attention. He stands quickly, almost stumbling over his own feet as he approaches you, admiring your look for the evening.

“OH WOW. Oh…Uh…sorry. You look really nice.” You look so nice he’s stressed out about it like wtf why are you so gorgeous? He thinks you’re sooooo far out of his league.

“I like your hair pulled back like that.” You smile at him and he thinks he might just spontaneously combust rn.

He keeps his arm linked with yours as you walk together to the front of the castle where all the guests are.

Once there, you mostly hang out together or with the other paladins. You’re both kind of shy and you find comfort in being together. You’re like the two emo kids at prom who just stand against the wall and complain about the lame music.

At some point, you two disappeared from the party. Allura and Shiro are like Hello? Where did they go? Shiro wanders outside to look for you only to find you both laying on your backs in the grass right outside the castle’s front entrance, staring up at the sky. He smiles as he hears you laughing at something Keith said.

“Im serious! Lance told me to say ‘even in zero gravity, I’d still fall for you’.” “BOOOOO that’s a terrible line!” You laugh up to the dark night sky.

His hand moves slowly to the side until it meets yours. When you feel the touch, you link your pinky finger with his and look over at him. He’s still staring up at the stars as a smile grows across his face.

He was so worried about disappointing you tonight, he just wanted to charm you. But he didn’t need pick up lines or fancy clothes to make you smile. Just being his normal self seemed to make you happy.

LANCE 💙

You guessed it…Lance is going all out for you.

The morning that they are told about it from Allura, he’s literally interrupting the whole meeting to ask you to be his date.

Freaking cheese ball gets down on one knee, takes your hand and kisses the back of it softly. When he looks up at you, he’s got that flirty smirk on his thin lips. “Would you, (Y/N), make me the happiest man in the universe and be my date to the coalition gala?”

You: 😍🥵🤭

Lance: 😘😏😎

Everyone else: 🤢🫣🙄

Obvi, you say yes with dreamy eyes and a goofy smile on your face.

You thought it was cute that he asked you even though you’ve been dating for a while now. You just assumed you’d be going together anyways. What a sweet boy~

While you’re feeling fine about the whole thing, Lance is freaking out. He’s digging through his clothes looking for something fancy to wear, he’s doing double face masks, he’s forcing Pidge to smell different colognes and help him pick the best one, he’s practicing his slow dance AND his salsa skills. Keep in mind, the gala isn’t for another week but he needs to get prepared NOW!

“There’s not even gonna be music, idiot. It’s a gala, not prom. When are you two even gonna have the chance to do the lift from dirty dancing?” “SHUT UP, PIDGE! IT’LL HAPPEN!!!”

He just wants to impress you so bad. It’s his top priority at the moment.

The night of the event, he’s freshly showered, dressed for the gods, smelling like a whole bath and body works and he’s sitting in your room keeping you company while you get ready.

“Lance, the gala doesn’t start for another 4 hours. Why are you- nevermind. Forget it. You look great.” And he gets so excited at the compliment.

He watches as you get ready. He’s not as talkative as he usually is.

“You okay?” He nods with a dopey grin on his face. He’s just admiring you, that’s all. A compliment leaves his mouth like every 5 minutes as you continue to get all dolled up.

He follows along side you all the way there, his hand is in yours and it’s SWEATY. He’s so nervous.

Once you’re there, his attention span is that of a gold fish. He’s so excited and chatty and asking people questions and he never fails to introduce you to everyone…every single person…S E P A R A T E L Y. He just wants to brag.

“This fine little honey right here…yeah, all mine. I know what you’re thinking, how’d I get so lucky? I ask myself that every day.” What a sap omfg

He notices you’re looking less than happy, kind of tired. Your social battery is at like 5%. He can tell you need a break.

As you’re standing beside Allura, listening to her talk to an ally of the coalition, Lance grabs your hand and pulls you away. You’re running behind him just to keep up with his long legs.

“Where are we going?” “You’ll see.”

THIS MF SET UP FAIRY LIGHTS AND MUSIC AND CANDLES IN HIS ROOM. BRO IS LITERALLY SUCH A HOPELESS ROMANTIC I CANT DEAL WITH IT. That’s why he came to your room so early. He didn’t wanna risk you coming in to his room and seeing everything.

You might think this is so extra but if Lance is anything, it’s extra. He takes any chance he can to make you smile and feel special. He’s so sweet, it’s disgusting.

“I just really wanna dance with you, (Y/N)…” “You did all this…for me?” He nods with a shy smile, bitting his lip as he watches for your reaction. You’re over the moon, your smile uncontrollable now.

So you dance together for a couple songs. He gently caresses your back as he sways with you, occasionally letting his hands roam to your hips. At this point, his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling. It’s cute and sweet and innocent and you’ve never loved him more.

PIDGE 💚

LMAO PIDGE WILL NOT EVEN ASK YOU.

Bc they’re too shy for that romantic shit.

They’re like “Who else would they go with? I’m not worried.”

They assume y’all are going together bc you’re obviously more than just friends.

They will get dressed up nice for you tho. They know everyone else will be dressed up too but they secretly WANT to make you swoon over them. Like plz feed their ego.

They actually go to Hunk for help with their wardrobe. Hunk is the best wingman to ever exist, change my mind. Also, they are really unsure whether they want to wear something more masculine or more feminine and they really trust Hunk with the topic of their gender identity.

“Hey, you guys ready?” You pop into Hunk’s room, all dressed up and ready to go.

“Almost! Hunk is just helping me with the zipper on-“ Once Pidge lays eyes on you, the little gears in their head stop completely. It’s like everything else faded away as they looked you up and down. You’re so angelic, wow oh wow.

“Aww, Pidge! You look stunning.” Aaaaand you broke them. You’re gonna have to turn them off and restart them.

“Uh yeah, you’re good now.” Hunk assures and nudges Pidge back to reality. “Go.” He whispers as he ushers them to move towards you.

You walk together in complete silence, your arm linked with theirs. Finally, they speak up first.

“Are you nervous?” “Yeah, are you?” “Yeah…” “I hate parties.” “Me too.”

So together you devise a plan: you’re gonna sneak around and pull silly little pranks on people and just eat all the food you can get your grubby little hands on.

And you do exactly that. You’re both having so much fun! You’re laughing so hard you’re snorting. You’re far from nervous now.

Pidge is the best at breaking you out of your shell and making you feel comfortable. You can be your true, authentic self around them. They are your best friend first and your ✨partner✨ second.

After a while, you two sneak off to their room to play video games. The food was good and the pranks were hilarious but you had both had enough.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you’re both ripping off your uncomfortable fancy clothes and changing into pajamas.

You’re sitting beside them, watching the loading screen for the game. It’s taking a while…

“So…what do I have to do to get you to stare at me like that again?” Pidge whips their head around, watching you with nervous eyes. They take a deep breath before they speak. “I always stare at you like that. You’ve just never noticed.” “AAAAWWWWWWWW REALLY?!”

Forget the video game. CUE THE CUDDLEFEST!!! 💚💚💚

MATT 🧡

Matt literally goes like this: 😌👉🏻👈🏻 “Hey…uhm hey…wanna be my date to the gala tomorrow?” *blushies*

And you’re like “Matthew, we’ve been dating for 8 months.” “Yeah, so?” You sigh heavily. “Yes, I’ll be your date, you dork.”

He doesn’t go to anyone for help with anything. Man is so confident and he knows you love him no matter what he looks like.

But of course he cleans up for you. He dresses up all formal and uses mouth wash like 10 times. He puts on so much lotion. He got some from Lance bc his hands are always so dry. He just wants to hold your soft hand in his own soft hand, ya know?

He’s waiting outside your door for a while, giving you privacy while you get ready but being right there for you when you’re done.

Once your door slides open, he turns and now he’s looking at you like he just won the lottery.

“HOT DAMN, YOU ARE SO FINE! What did I ever do to deserve you? Oh my god, you’re so perfect. You are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, did you know that? I swear, you are so precious-“ “Maaattttt, stooooopppppp.” You’re blushing so hard rn and he LOVES IT.

He walks with his arm around your shoulders, chatting with you about who is attending the event tonight and the importance of it all.

You sort of follow him around most the night, not doing much of the talking bc you’d rather listen to him talk.

He is so intelligent, just like Pidge. He uses words so big you cant even begin to imagine what half of them mean. He was so smooth with his words, the way he could spit facts about anything and everything without a second thought took your breath away.

At some point, you lost him in the crowd. He was busy, he was working to protect the universe. You understand. This is more than just a party.

You wander outside for some fresh air and a break from all the loud banter. Matt is meeting you out there within minutes.

“Hey. You alright?” He rests a hand on your upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth between your shoulder blades. “Yep! Just…need a break.” “Yeah, I get it. It’s overwhelming.”

He turns and looks over his shoulder before he waves, a big smile on his face. “Oh hey! Yeah, this is (Y/N), my partner. The one I was telling you about.” He’s introducing you to an ally of the coalition who he’d just met earlier this evening.

You can’t help but smile, your heart pounding in your chest. He was talking about you to someone here tonight? What was he saying? Did he just call you his partner??? You’ve never actually heard him call you that. You’re so blushy and flattered and happy.

After a brief meeting, the visitor leaves you two alone. You pull Matt into a hug, squeezing him as tight as you can.

“You know I love you, right?” “Yes. You know I love YOU, right?” “Yeah, I know.” “Good, don’t you ever forget it.” You can decide who said what. Either way, y’all are so in love it’s not even funny.

[quietblueriver]

Dimples, Imodna please ☺️

Thank you so much for the prompt!!

Short thing set after the interaction with Gwendolyn but before the witchy adventure. During their nappy-nap, I believe Ashley called it.

This got angsty, somehow. Laudna-specific angst, not Imodna angst, but still. Know that's probably not what you were shooting for with dimples, and if you wanna drop another prompt, I'll try for something fluffier lol.

-

Laudna stares through the window of their room in Whitestone, hands crossed tightly over her body and bottom lip, already worn ichor-black, trapped between her teeth. 

“Laudna?” 

“Hmmm?” 

No part of her moves and her eyes don’t shift from whatever they see outside, so Imogen is uncertain whether Laudna actually heard her or whether her brain recognized Imogen’s call and responded on reflex, the equivalent of a “pardon me” in the crowded market. 

She steps closer, lets her footsteps be loud and moves a hand to hover near Laudna’s shoulder, tries again. 

“Are you alright?” 

Black eyes do move now, catching sight of Imogen and whatever look is on her face must bring Laudna back to the moment, because she turns her body from the window, hands dropping, and asks, voice concerned, “Alright, darling?” 

Imogen tilts her head and closes the last of the distance between her hand and Laudna’s body, starting with a squeeze of her shoulder and skimming down until she links their fingers. 

“I asked first.” 

A crinkle forms between Laudna’s eyes. 

“Did you? I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted.” 

Imogen takes another step, putting herself at an angle so that she can see outside the window. Reds and golds bathe the beautiful gardens as the sun sets, and a figure stands silhouetted against a wall of green, arm stretched strangely behind them. 

Imogen blinks, eyes adjusting, and the form becomes Lady Vex’ahlia, a bow in her hand. It hangs at her side as she turns to the massive brown bear that has sprawled out beside her and says something that makes it raise its head, slowly but with purpose. 

They hadn’t seen her at the meeting, earlier, although Imogen knows she’s busy with other things. Political things? She has about a dozen different titles and Lady Allura said something about a council, maybe.

But she's back now, if she was ever gone, stretching her shoulders and raising her arms above her head. Her clothes look familiar, and it takes a moment but Imogen recalls the stories strung along the walls. Vox Machina. New versions, surely, but the Lady looks like she could’ve stepped from one of those panels, proud and hardly aged, the string of her bow pulled taut.

The arrow knocks some small thing from the top of a bench straight into the tree behind it. Imogen wonders whether Lady Vex’ahlia ever wants to put her bow down. What she thinks of when she shoots. Her own scars tingle.

“She’s very beautiful.” 

Laudna’s voice is more subdued than usual, and Imogen aches for her, sees again the heartbreak in her eyes as Gwendolyn recoiled. 

“She is.” Imogen rubs her thumb over Laudna’s knuckles and pulls her eyes away from the Lady of Whitestone and back to her favorite person. “You are, too.” 

The smile she gets is more than a concession but less than the flustered, happy thing that Laudna typically favors when Imogen compliments her. She’s just telling the truth, not fishing, but Laudna’s reaction is a good gauge of her mood, and Imogen closes more of the distance between them in an attempt at comfort. 

“Thank you, darling.” 

“Just tellin’ the truth.” She presses a quick kiss to Laudna’s cheek. “Wanna talk about it?” 

The smile Laudna gives her then is full of fondness, enough to make Imogen’s stomach flutter. Laudna’s hand moves to scratch at the nape of her neck, which she knows Imogen loves, before pulling her closer, and Imogen doesn’t fight it, settles into the crook of Laudna’s neck. 

Laudna strokes at her hair as she speaks, the sharp cut of her jaw moving against Imogen’s temple every now and again with her words.

“Did you notice that Gwedolyn has dimples? She looks so much like her parents. Although I don’t think Lady Vex’ahlia has dimples. Maybe Lord Percival. He doesn’t really smile often, so I suppose it’s hard to know.”

She speaks softly, aimlessly, an unhurried stream of consciousness that feels intimately and beautifully familiar to Imogen.

“She does, though. Gwendolyn. And her smile does look like Lady Vex’ahlia’s. Something about her chin, I think. And both a little mischievous.”

When it’s clear she’s finished for the moment, Imogen says, breath against Laudna’s collarbones, “Yeah. Pretty cute. Think she does a good job keepin’ the Lord and Lady busy.”

She bites her lip, pushes back against Laudna’s hand until they’re face to face again. They’ve talked about it. They’ve talked about it. But Imogen knows that Laudna is still hurting, can’t imagine how it must feel to have Delilah to deal with always, but especially in this place, and then to have her scare a child, hate a child, from Laudna’s own body. It’s too much, and she doesn’t know what to say, but she wants to tell Laudna that she’s here to listen, that it’s okay if she wants to talk more. “Laudna, I know we…” 

At the shake of Laudna’s head, Imogen stops, and when Laudna turns her head back to the window, Imogen’s eyes follow hers, catch on Lady Vex’ahlia bent down over the bear, head pressed to his. Her mind moves immediately and naturally to Laudna’s fingers and their ichor strings dancing Pate through the motions of conversation so many nights before they joined the Hells.   

“There were much prettier girls than me.” A beat. Imogen’s breath sticks in her throat, and she waits, watches as Laudna drifts somewhere Imogen can’t follow. Her eyes stay fixed on the world outside, on Lady Vex’ahlia. I always wanted to be a lady. “They had,” she pauses, adds an aside that seems not to be directed to Imogen or to anyone in particular, “not that I wish it on anyone, of course, but—they had options. There was another girl in my class, Alene. Dark, shiny hair. Tall. She had dimples, like Gwendolyn. Her chin wasn’t quite the same, but…”Her hand comes to her own chin, fingertips coming to rest just under her bottom lip. “She had the nicest dresses. Her parents owned a fabric shop, I think. Or maybe it was the bakery? And a little inn.”

Imogen’s whole body is tense now but she forces herself to relax and keep breathing as naturally as she can, to leave space for Laudna to keep talking. It’s rare, for Laudna to speak about her life as Matilda, her death, like this—voluntary, undirected, without caveats or the shining positivity that dulls the impact of the horrible details. Laudna is thoroughly genuine, but that doesn’t mean she makes every part of herself available, that she doesn’t curate like everyone else. This is something different than a necessary disclosure to the Hells or even a detail given in trust.

This is Laudna on her own, giving Imogen room to be with her, if she’d like. It’s a gift, and Imogen doesn’t want to do anything to stop her, to risk it. If she wants to talk, Imogen wants to listen.

“I think, perhaps, with my parents, with,” a wave of the hand not caught in Imogen’s before it fists in her skirts, a familiar scrunch and release of fabric, “all of it, I was…the easiest option. Less outrage. No outrage,” she finishes with a whisper. 

Imogen wants to wrap her up. She doesn’t. She thinks of Matilda, alone in this place, confused and in pain and imagines wrapping her up instead. She would have been outraged. She’s outraged now. And she thinks, for the thousandth time, that she will kill Delilah Briarwood, and she will enjoy it.

Laudna clears her throat. “Anyway, they must have thought…Well. Even if there were better options, it’s flattering, that anyone would think I look anything like her.”

Laudna is generally too earnest to be wry, but it’s the word that comes to Imogen for the shift in her expression, the half-roll of her eyes and motion of her lips. “Flattering might not be the word,” she breathes to herself before continuing, “I’m nothing like Lady Vex’ahlia. Like any of the de Rolos, really. They’re all so beautiful, and I…”

The hand rises to her hair, but instead of the usual anxious motion, Laudna pulls a lock out in front of her and looks at it, a little lost. Her voice is confused but stitched through with a sadness so profound it takes Imogen's breath away. “I was never beautiful, but now, I…”

Imogen cracks open, overwhelming love and righteous fury and deep desire fighting to escape, to reassure. She beats them back and says nothing, stays quiet and close.

Laudna shakes her head and turns her eyes to the gardens again, and when she speaks, it's low and far away, caught in another life. “There were much prettier girls than me.”

[rorimoon9597]

Lance has always been obsessed with Keith's hair for some reason. He didn't know why at first, but as time went on, it became so clear that he wanted to run his hands though it and feel it on his fingers.

He made comments about it being an ugly mullet to hide that fact. It didn't work, especially not when he confessed to Keith before he left for the Blade.

What? He was going to lose the chance to say anything anyway! And he was so happy when Keith kissed him to shut him up and told Lance that his feelings were reciprocated, he felt as if he were on cloud nine.

Since coming back from his fight with Shiro's clone (who they're forever going to refer to as Kuro as in 'Operation Kurone'), Keith has experienced some changes.

For starters, his eyes were more purple. Before they'd been a grey colour with purple undertones, but now they were properly purple. Then his canines were sharper, practically fangs, and his eyes would sometimes change. When he was angry, his irises would become slits and the sclera of his eyes would become yellow. It was hot, in Lance's humble opinion (Pidge called him an alien fucker when he said that at first. Lance said that Keith's dad was the true alien fucker. Shiro sprayed the water he was drinking everywhere and choked when he said that).

The most noticeable change happened to Keith's hair though. The ends of it lightened, until they were purple. It looked so cool, and it connected Keith to Krolia more. His hair stayed black, but now when it gets out it was purple.

Keith... Didn't think the same way as everyone else.

"I feel like I'm losing my dad. I've only ever looked like my mom, and the one thing that has ever connected me to my dad was my hair." The team had stopped on a planet for a rest, and Keith and Lance had gone off together to hunt down some meat and gather fruit and vegetables.

Lance stopped and grabbed Keith's wrist, forcing him to stop and turn to face him.

"You're still connected to your dad, Keith. It's just not entirely in your appearance," he said. Keith frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Lance hummed.

"You said that he'd go head first into danger, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"And that he was a hero?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"According to your mom, your dad was kind, and reckless, and a hero and someone she loved enough to leave to keep safe."

"Mom said that?" Keith asked, sounding surprised. Lance nodded. "Where are you going with this anyway?"

"Because those are some things that you have in common with your dad," Lance answered. Keith opened his mouth, then closed it.

"... You're right," he eventually said. Keith reached up to his hair and fiddled with a purple end. "That stuff... Does connect me to my dad..."

"I'm never wrong about people things," Lance said, confidently. Keith smiled down at him (that had happened during the two year time dilation that Keith and Krolia went through, and Lance found that he liked having to look up over looking down).

"You know more about people than I do," he agreed. He pressed a kiss to Lance's forehead. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," Lance said. He pressed a kiss to Keith's lips. "Now, let's go catch something that Hunk can make into a good meal."

"Alright."

They worked quickly, and made their way back to the campsite with food that all of them could eat. Hunk was quick to take care of the food, Krolia helping him while Romelle stayed by Allura's side.

Lance sat on a log, and Keith settled himself between his legs. Kosmo flopped down with them.

Lance ran his hands through Keith's hair, smiling as Keith joked with the others and treated Shiro and Romelle like Lance treated his siblings - by annoying the hell out of them out of love.

Lance leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Keith's head.

"I love you," he whispered. Keith hummed, tilting his head to look up at him. There was a smile on his face reserved just for Lance.

"I love you too," he replied.

_______________________________________

Based off of this post I made

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 15

welcome the the fifteenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.  

1. there, nestled against his pulse by @hiuythn

stop why are you doing this to me stop it stop it stop--

klance soulmate au where your right wrist has the first words your soulmate says to you, and the left holds the last words they'll say to you. super sad, so much angst, and i've been informed it'll make you sob until you choke.

1. there, nestled against his pulse (the main story, from Keith's POV) 2. this is what love looks like: (tnahp from Lance's POV + 38k of sequel content) 3. roll credits (deleted/extra scenes and additional headcanons)

okay. i am so desperately obsessed with this fic, i was obsessed with it the first time i read it and im obsessed with it now. and yes i know i did all hiuythn fics last week and i promise i wont this week. BUT i have a set of comments associated with this fic bc it is Just That Good and so i shall present them to u now:

- literally the funniest characterization of shiro i’ve ever read. this shiro is gay and tired. this shiro unironically and frequently says “move. i’m gay” and gets away with it at the garrison. this shiro has been through A Lot and just wants to fucking retire - allura here is so so funny she’s such a badass. she’s giving “i love shiny things! like the shine of your spilled blood on the floor if you say that dumb shit one more fucking time!!” we stan a queen. - coran is a Mood. this man is desperately trying to reign in four teenagers and two young adults and just wants to go to bed and also he cares for them all so so much. ultimate dad - pidge is Mischief Personified. she is a brat and i adore her. she’s here to cause problems and by god she will succeed - hunk is so done it’s so fucking funny. “that’s literally impossible.” he’s a genius and he knows it, he’s glad to call you out on your bullshit. he doesn’t even TRY to pretend he can keep a secret and/or handle drama god what a mood - don’t even get me started on klance!! they’re so funny omg. the banter is EXQUISITE. lance and keith adore each other so much and they’re so badass. literally the coolest power couple fight scenes ever to be made, i do adore. gosh. and the ROMANCE they are so devoted to each other i’m emotional - honourable mention of lance’s legs and keith’a Soft Squishy Feelings that are mentioned so often that they’re characters. iconic. all in all, the best way to describe this series is Gay and Tired. i love it and i’m sad to see it end. i will be rereading it an embarrassing number of times. infinity/10

2. all the little things by @jilliancares

Or: 5 times Keith let Lance get away with things that he'd never let anyone else do, and 1 time Lance realized that he was, apparently, special

oblivious lance will always be funny to me. and the idea of keith just letting lance get away with Everything and Everyone knowing how whipped he is except for lance himself?? peak humour. never not funny

3. Full Disclosure by @dragonomatopoeia

Keith is impulsive and straightforward when it comes to most things, and emotions are no exception. It's no surprise, then, that when he realises that he might have developed a crush on Lance, he tries to tell him immediately. Unfortunately, it's very hard to account for both circumstance and who Lance is as a person.

Alternatively: Four Times Keith Tried to Confess and One Time Lance Actually Understood

more 2016 eliteness!! this fic is hilarious. and also its number one selling quality is that all of the characters are trans and nd i literally love that for them. nonbinary hunk loml

4. catch me, before i fall by @pastelrainbow

‘We are a good team.’

Even now, just recalling the way Lance had smiled as the words left his lips, made Keith’s heart race and his cheeks redden. Lance had never looked at him so fondly before. No boy ever had. The thought of it made a sigh escape his lips and Keith hunched his shoulders, a pout tugging his lips downwards.

Curse my weak gay heart.

-

a what if keith caught lance outside his cryo-pod.

the idea of keith being a suave casanova with more game than aphrodite herself but immediately going bright red and hissing when shiro teases him. peak dynamic. absolutely nailed siblings 

5. of demons and dates by spartona (faveour)

Three times Keith scares Lance shitless with his ghost shenanigans, and one time Lance tries to retaliate.

first of all. BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE. second of all. the  “we’ve BEEN dating u dumbass ily” trope is so funny to me. i will never get over it

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[klaissance]

walk with me here you guys ahem,

Keith and Lance finally have The TalkTM on a day like most others. The paladins go about their business on the castleship, Keith and Lance mostly doing their activities together as has become, without their really noticing, habit. Keith flips through the pages of one of Allura's Altean romance novels on one end of the couch, Lance plays a video game on the handheld console he and Pidge found at a thrift store the last time they'd stopped off at a space mall from the other end. At some point they wander to the kitchen and make Hunk's latest attempt at space popcorn. They throw the pieces at each other, trying to break their previous streak record of 106 popcorn-mouth-catches. When they run out, they pelt each other with kernels until they collapse on the kitchen floor, out of breath and laughing. They clean up their mess together. They train, talk team strategy, help Coran out with some cleaning. They visit Hunk and Pidge in the lion bay and are promptly kicked out for causing trouble (neither of them can seem to keep their hands to themselves, always touching pieces and parts and projects, and inevitably something falls over and Pidge is yelling and they're scrambling away, giggling as they run down the hall). The paladins eat dinner, everyone hangs out together for a while, and life in space is pretty good.

Lance and Keith are often the last two left in the lounge as people split off--either to go to bed or to work on something independently until the wee hours (Pidge). They're chatting, swapping stories, arguing about silly hypotheticals, until Lance yawns mid-sentence and Keith knows it's time for bed. They stand together and walk to their rooms in warm silence, close enough to brush shoulders, neither changing trajectory to avoid the contact. They stop in the space between their doors to say goodnight; this, too, is normal. They smile small smiles at each other and linger, time stretchy in the way it is at nighttime.

And then something new happens.

"Keith," Lance says slowly, like he's turning the word over in his mouth for the first time. "Would you ever want--"

Keith's heart stutters in his chest and the silence of the empty hallway is suddenly deafening. Lance only hesitates for a beat but it stretches.

"--to go on a space date," Lance finishes, brows unknitting as he seems to consider what just came out of his mouth. Finding it acceptable, he nods, then lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Keith's wide-eyed gaze. "With me," Lance adds, an afterthought but an important clarification nonetheless, quirking an eyebrow.

Keith purses his lips for a moment that pulls like taffy into an eternity and it's Lance's turn to hear the ocean roaring in his ears as he waits. "Would that make us--"

Lance can't breathe.

"--space boyfriends?" Keith finishes and the air rushes from Lance's lungs, something like relief. Keith is smiling his mischievous smile, the crooked one that puts a spark in his eyes. It is among Lance's favorite Keith expressions (there are many).

"Yeah, I guess we'd be space boyfriends," Lance concedes, biting down on his lower lip to keep his grin from spreading too far. He's not doing a very good job.

"Hm." Keith nods solemnly. "Space boyfriends it is, then."

"Cool," Lance concludes eloquently.

"Cool," Keith echoes, and then they're standing in ooey gooey marshmallow silence, grinning softly at each other for a long time or maybe no time at all. Keith feels very warm and melty on the inside. Lance thinks he could run a marathon and not break a sweat.

"Alrighty then, g'night Space Boyfriend," Lance breaks the silence with a two-fingered salute and shuffles backwards towards his door.

Keith rolls his eyes without meaning to, affection heating his face despite himself. "Goodnight, Lance." He turns towards his door, grinning to himself as Lance snorts. Their doors slide open, their doors slide shut.

***

Hours later, Lance slips out of bed, buzzing with the news, and appears, bouncing uncontrollably on his toes and biting on the biggest grin, at Hunk's door. Hunk is rubbing blearily at his half-lidded eyes when he door slides open and he takes in the sight of Lance, practically glowing. Hunk blinks once. Twice. Does a little mental math. And it hits him. His eyes go wide and his mouth makes a little o, eyebrows leaping up his forehead.

"No... No." And Lance is nodding vigorously, eyes shining with unshed happiness, and that bit lip is barely withholding the giggle that threatens to erupt from the vibrating blue paladin. Hunk scoops him into the biggest bear hug, shouting "TELL ME EVERYTHING RIGHT NO-" and the door slides shut behind them, Lance's peals of laughter ricocheting down the halls.

Keith is awake in his room, sitting on the floor with his back up against the door, pressing a grin so wide it hurts into his knees. He rolls his eyes affectionately when he hears Hunk's muffled delight and finally stands up to go to bed.

[12pt-times-new-roman]

c3e80

This entire thing feels like a social experiment and I honestly don't know what to make of it. But their goal is to get to and then retrieve three magic sticks from various places within an abandoned ruin without breaking or losing the sticks, then they have to put the sticks into the pool of a fountain together. But if any of the doppelgangers put the sticks into the water, they lose the challenge. Also, apparently they're in a weird shadow world? I don't know, I missed the first 20 minutes.

Interesting to note that detect thoughts and things like it are blocked by Nana Morri in this challenge.

Y'know, as funny as it is to watch them all suspect each other, I honestly think that that's another layer of this exercise. Like, it could be so good for them to realize that they can and should be questioning of each other when it comes to smaller things, things that aren't important -- because when it comes down to it I think that any of them would trust any other to save them if their life was in danger, and sometimes you can only realize that when you put petty grievances in perspective.

For the first time in 1.5 hours, there's a successful insight check, and FCG thinks that Imogen is not a doppelganger.

Chetney finds the final branch; if they return all 3 to the fountain, they complete the challenge, but Chetney puts it in the bag of holding. Honestly, Chetney is the most interesting to watch here for me; he's so, so logical and tactical (owing mostly to Travis being the same way) that he's thinking too many steps ahead. If he's a doppelganger, this makes complete sense, but it also makes sense for the real Chetney to take precautions like this.

oh, that's why this whole sequence is disconcerting and weird! there's no goddamn music!

Now that they have all 3 sticks, it's a game of attrition and held actions until they figure out who the doppelgangers are.

FCG uses divination to ask whether Orym is a doppelganger or not: the answer is no, unless FCG themself is a doppelganger.

Orym, suspecting that there are no doppelgangers among them, uses the monocle of true essence to see if anyone is a doppelganger. "This is a game of life, not chess." He looks specifically at Fearne, and given that he pulls out his own stick, he sees that Fearne is not a doppelganger.

They put all the branches in, and the two doppelgangers and Nana Morri walk out of the shadows. There were no copies among them -- "sometimes, you must trust each other, no matter what you're told." They earn another magical item, and then return to the comfort of Ligament Manor, where they had all been sleeping.

Ashton determines that they all need a nap and some orange juice.

The general consensus is that they learned and revealed a lot, and that they learned to trust each other -- they're a "team."

Fun fact: FCG provided the basic ideas, and Morri ran with them.

Luckily, Nana Morri notes that this is only the beginning of their healing -- but it is a beginning.

Ashton also acknowledges that, while it was them this time, the trigger for this could've come from any of them. Any one of them could have snapped and made a mistake in the way Ashton did, and that's worth acknowledgement. "Trust is better when it's not easy; the only way we're gonna be okay is if we're all in he same place of being able to fuck up, and maybe that's good. You are the only people I can think of who would put up with this shit, and I am forever fucking grateful."

Orym also voices that they can't wait forever for this group dynamic to feel perfect -- they have to act now, because they're the only ones paying attention and they have to do something.

Imogen acknowledges that the Bells Hells aren't so powerful that they'll catch attention immediately -- they are not expendable, but they are unexpected, weird as fuck, and, perhaps above all, underestimated. They are unknown. The Ruby Vanguard expect people like Allura, Vox Machina, and the Mighty Nein; they don't expect people like the Bells Hells.

All Allura wants from them is recon, information, because they are so underestimated. The Bells Hells don't need to be there for the final confrontation, for the world-wide conflict, or for the final battle; they need to provide the information that enables all that to happen, and only that. Once they've provided it, they can go pursue their individual interests.

Imogen asks whether she should give in to the pull of Ruidus in her dreams. They agree that she should consider it, on the condition that she tells them before she does.

Fearne realizes that she actually wants to try the shard, especially sense the shard rejected Ashton (and therefore will reject her too if it's not "right" for her). Ashton can't think of anyone else who should benefit from it as much, and they both feel that -- even though neither believes in destiny -- it was made for Fearne.

Laudna gets to the root of her comment earlier: she believes that Fearne is not the dark shadow she sees, she is not the echo of her father, and she is her own person who can make her own decisions.

They also distribute the magic items. FCG takes the one that increases healing, and gives Imogen Ludinus' staff in return, and the rest of the magical items are shuffled around.

Small note: Ludinus' staff is called the "staff of dark odyssey."

Fearne takes the harness and the shard to the garden of Ligament Manor to absorb it.

They stack a whole bunch of spells onto her, and creatures emerge from the nearby woods and branches. Mister appears too, just to hang out.

Imogen goes over to Ashton, takes their hand, and kisses them on the cheek. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. It's all up to old damage; we all get over it eventually."

Everyone begins to prepare for Fearne to take the shard. Chetney removes it from the bag of holding, and Laudna succeeds on a save to concentrate just on the warmth of Imogen instead of Delilah --

Fearne wears the harness and the shard is pressed into it, and everything around her in the garden lights up. As the shard rotates, it burns like a magnesium fire -- Fearne takes fire damage but it doesn't bother her, it's uncomfortable but not hurting -- until it sears the inside of her throat.

Here, unlike the ritual with Ashton, the burning builds gradually as the crystal's light dims and a light brightens throughout Fearne's skin. She's still taking fire damage, but nowhere close to what Ashton was taking; this damage is an indication of change, not of destruction.

FCG UPDATE: Scatter vigor apparently allows them to double the damage dealt to a party member in order to heal another party member for that amount of damage. (??)

It hurts Fearne, burns her, but it feels like its worth it -- Chetney notices that there were 3 invisible gargoyle-like creatures, previously invisible, watching the spectacle.

As with Ashton, this is a race against time. It's damage vs. healing, and FCG heals Fearne for a whole bunch -- FCG uses a bonus action to again take from Ashton to give HP to Fearne, which would send FCG into a berserk if it weren't for Chetney, who holds them in place.

As FCG connects with this primal savagry, Fearne can see this beautiful broken landscape, sparks like children playing before language, a time before, a time before--

But Fearne's form becomes flame. The fur on her legs are fiery, the claws on her hand become black and singed, but Laudna casts wither and bloom -- something she very specifically never did for Ashton and yes I have opinions about this choice -- to heal her.

Fearne's fey horns become something not unlike Ashton's own arm, like the Balrog in LotR, this beacon of flame -- it doesn't deal anywhere near the amount of damage Matt expects it to and with all the healing (including another wither and bloom from Laudna that was not used for Ashton) Fearne survives the absorbing of the shard.

In the middle of this historical shadow, Fearne sees an entity towering, made of flames, flickering and shifting around her as if she's a fly, then as if she's an equal -- and she feels sadness, and then legacy. Fearne takes more damage but stays up, so -- "in this moment of connection, the entity that embraces you... Fearne unleashes her hands out as flames unleash from all sides, everyone else takes 11 points of fire damage, Allura puts up a barricade -- in that momenta, Fearne's light begins to subside, and she slowly powers back into her space." The only change is that the flame that curls from her fingers has a black flame at the tip -- and she gains a massive personal feat, accompanied with an equally large info card.

Many things about her seem to have changed, including (primarily) her sense of being and self.

FCG goes crazy because of the stress. Meanwhile, Orym unleashes a full round of Battle Master Fighter attacks against them, so by the end of it FCG is so far away from everyone else that they have to attack Orym only.

Uhhhh someting something about Orym being so self-sacrificing and self-aggrandizing to the point of attacking their own party members, to the point that even a single attack against another party member breaks them out of it.

But FCG does break out of it, and congratulates Fearne on her new absorption of the shard.

Fearne update: Thanks to absorbing the shard, Fearne is able to regulate 100% whether or not others touching her i damaging or not. She's still Fearne, but some parts of her are always flame, like her hair and her eyes -- she just needs to learn how to control it and dial it back.

Laudna offers to teach Fearne a "little thing or two," which is. um... huh

Meanwhile, it seems that Mister himself is also impowered, and has become more powerful as a result of Fearne taking the shard.

Fearne update: Whenever a creature touches Fearne without her consent, it takes 1d8 fire damage. Imogen and Ashton are both in awe of this ability.

Hey! Ashton calls out the incredibly unrealistic expectation that they and Fearne should hook up just because they embody the two halves of the same entity! There's a familiar sense of belonging to both of them, yes, but it's history, where it was carved, where it was placed -- not where it was meant to be, necessarily.

Ashton is a breaching whale, seeing a place where creation and destruction is a similar process. Ashton evolves, changes, becomes -- there is a sense of strength and sturdiness, as a being that has spent their life being broken and un-whole, you feel complete.

"I was not ready for this before. Thank you; this is fascinating. Ha! You all look smaller, what happened?"

Ashton face-plants and melds into the ground about half a foot before stopping, because they're up in a tree.

In essence, Fearne and Ashton -- freshly transformed and accepted-- materialize, like two children excited to play a new game.

Morri speaks. "I always knew she was meant for greatness... and here's the fireflies, the candles floating... a bright moment of possibility flit itself to you, before the journey that lies ahead.

There's some benefits and some consequences that no one can see, and that's acknowledged by both DM and player as beneficial.

Until next time, y'all!

[voltronisanobsession]

All I want for christmas.... is a pidge x gn reader oneshot 🙏🙏

Okay hear me out, I haven't seen any fics of her and the reader doing paladin training so...

Brains or Brawn? - Pidge x Reader

I AGREE THERES NOT A ENOUGH OF ANY OF THE PALADINS DOING PALADIN TRAING AND WE NEED MORE💔 I hope this is good for you, enjoy!!

You had just been paired up with Pidge for an hour of paladin training set up by Coran. Apparently, the Altean claimed that he had set everybody up with a partner, save for Allura, according to certain categories and aspects of each of the paladins fighting styles.

Keith and you had been put in the group of brawn, often using your fighting instincts and force first. Pidge and Shiro have been grouped together of brains since they tended to think battles through more thoroughly, searching for quick solutions first. Hunk and Lance had been grouped together as neutral surprisingly, as they both were able to utilize both when necessary. (Something that Keith didn’t agree too much on)

Being the first to battle, you and Pidge were supposed to beat the other by using the set skills you had. You couldn’t help but grin at the competitiveness that built up in your chest.

“You ready to get beat, Pidge?” Snorting, the short paladin made her way to the middle of the room with you, going to the opposite end of the make shift arena.

“You? Beat me? Haha, very funny.” Pidge smiled at you as you began stretching your body.

“Alright paladins, you already know the drill. The first one to incapacitate or knock the other outside the lined spaced is out.

“Your given weapons are allowed, but no accidentally killing each other! We may have replacements for your suits, but no replacements for paladins! Remember to trust your instincts and have fun!”

As Coran finished, you looked back to Pidge and settled into a defensive stance. Pidge did the same as you got ready.

“On your marks!”

You gripped your dagger as hard as you could, tensing your body. Ain’t no way you were going to lose to Pidge of all people. This will be easy enough, you thought.

“Get ready!”

Pidge took a deep breath in. As much as she liked you, she wasn’t going to let you win this mock fight. Not when she could hold it over your head for a while.

“Go!”

You immediately ran towards Pidge, swinging the hilt of your blade towards her head in older to knock her off her balance. Having noticed your arm raising as you dashed towards her, Pidge quickly ducked to the side and rolled away, trying to put some distance between you two.

You quickly turned around and ran towards her again, not giving her any time to use her bayard against you. Pidge was forced to play the defense while you relentless attacked her.

She was quick enough to narrowly dodge your swings, but miscalculating a step gave you a new opening. Quickly as Pidge slightly stumbled, you raised your leg and kicked her straight in the stomach. You winced as you saw her crash into the ground.

“I am so sorry Pidge! Are you oka-!”

In your moment of weakness, Pidge pulled through the slight pain and activated her bayard, the cord swinging toward your leg and yanking it with as much force she could muster.

Not expecting the the cord to wrap around you, you fell backwards, groaning in pain as your head hit the floor with a light thump.

“So not fair.” You muttered as you tried to gather yourself at the sound of Pidge’s light footsteps heading towards you.

You quickly rolled to the side as Pidge tried to jump on you, launching yourself to her body. You both tumbled on the ground until you ended up on top of her.

The short girl quickly wrapped her bayards cord around your arm and yanked you to the side, your body flying off her as she scrambled away from you to catch her breath.

“I am so glad this is just a training exercise!” Pidge exclaimed, catching her breath.

Once again standing, you swung your dagger towards her, repeating the process of you being offense and Pidge being defense.

It was when she ducked after another swing that she came up with an idea. At one point, you were going to tire yourself out from all your attacks. You were going to begin slowing down as you exhausted yourself out from your constant attacks.

All she had to do was play the waiting game in the process. Since you were bigger than her small figure, her only option than pinning you down was to kick you out of the arena.

You, on the other hand, believed that your nonstop attacks would make her trip up again, giving yourself another opening to pin her down. If you kept attacking, she wouldn’t have enough time to come up with a plan, instead focusing on dodging you.

You both danced around the arena, Pidge leading you both as she dodge your swings.

It was only when you felt the ache in your arms did you begin faltering. This was not how you wanted this go down.

“Getting tired Y/N?” Pidge teased as you sloppily swung at her. Grunting as sweat beaded down your forehead, you took a step back. You were going to win no matter what.

“Not even close Pidge!” She didn’t expect you to tackle her football style after only using your dagger for so long. You guys hit the ground together again.

You ripped her bayard out of her hand, tossing your own as you tried to get ahold of the girls arms beneath you.

At your weak arms, Pidge smacked them away from her body, forcing her legs out from underneath you and placed the soles of her feet on your chest. With all her strength, she shoved you away and watched as you flew backwards, back hitting the ground harshly.

You panted as you got up, moving to pin Pidge down as she stayed on the ground until you heard a horn being blasted.

“Congratulations Pidge, you’re the winner!” You stared at Coran in shock.

“Wait what?” Your chest heaved as you looked around the room, mind still on overdrive. You looked towards your friends in confusion.

“How did Pidge win?” Getting up, Pidge made her way to you, stopping a bit away from you as she smirked.

“Coran said that we can incapacitate each other, or get someone out of the arena.”

You quickly looked down and saw you were beyond the arenas border lines. Your eyes widen as you whipped your head up to meet her own eyes.

“WHAATT!! NO WAY! NO WAAAYY!” Everyone let out a laugh at your shocked reaction. You totally didn’t notice at all!! You completely forgot that was an option! That explains why it felt like Pidge was leading you around.

You seriously wanted to smack yourself in the face. So much for trusting your instincts! You groaned as Pidge patted your shoulder.

“But how?” You looked down at her, eyes shining with amazement.

“Well, since you were so focused on bombarding me with attacks, I realized all I needed to do was lead you to the edge and somehow get you out that way!

“It’s ok Y/N. I guess this proves that brains beats brawn in the end.” At her laughter, you couldn’t help but pull her into a hug and begin swinging her around like a rag doll.

“Aww my smart shortie! You’re so smart, I would not have thought of that!” You put Pidge down and moved to the side to allow the next duo to battle it out.

“Maybe I should take lessons from you.” Pidge snorted, bumping her shoulder against your arm. She smiled at your words and looked forward, watching as Shiro and Lance took their places.

[omgsquee2001]

We Are All Connected: You Are Ready: Shiro

Allura and Coran had stayed in the ship, keeping an eye out for any distress signals. Thankfully, there were none so far. Back on Pandora, the Paladins were going through months and months of training. From learning how to navigate the forest the Omatikaya called home, learning about the different plants and animals that lived in harmony with the People. The Paladins also learned the Na'Vi language. Which was a lot harder than it seemed, through Pidge seemed to pick it up rather quickly, as did Keith. They had mastered Tsaheylu, and had chosen their own Ikrans. Shiro named his Ikran, Azenth. Once they had chosen and tamed their own Ikrans, it was time for the final test. The test that would determine if they would become one of the Omatikaya people.

Shiro was sitting in a circle with the other Paladins, talking about their experiences with the Ikran. Lance was trying to put on a show for the Omatikaya women, claiming he wasn't scared at all. They paid little attention to him, focusing on their chores at Home Tree. Shiro smiled in aw.

"I'm just surprised we all made it this far." He said. "All this training has been pretty intense." He said. Keith smiled.

"I'm just curious what the final test will be." He said. Light foot steps caught their attention. [Y/N] was walking up, a serious look on his face. He held his bow in one hand, his arrows strapped around his chest. [Y/N] looked at Shiro.

"It is time, Shiro." He said. Shiro nodded.

The Omatikaya and human stalked through the bushes, their eyes fixed on a Hexapede, or a yerik in Na'Vi. Shiro silently drew his bow, knocking an arrow. He straightened his body, taking a deep breath. Pulling his arm back, his eyes fixed on the animal. [Y/N] watched intently. Just as the animal looked up, catching Shiro's scent, and letting out a warning cry, Shiro let the arrow fly, striking the animal in the side. Shiro let out a breath. The two ran up to the animal, who was crying in pain. Shiro looked down at the animal, placing his hands upon its neck.

"*Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo," Shiro said to the animal in Na'Vi. Lifting his knee, he placed it upon the animal's neck, restricting its breathing. He pulled out his hunting knife. "*Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì." Shiro said, stabbing the Hexapede, ending its suffering. Shiro closed his eyes letting out a sigh. He then opened them and looked at [Y/N], who was sitting next to him. A proud smile graced the Omatikaya's face.

"You are ready." He said.

~~~~

Shiro sat before the interpreter of Eywa. Using two fingers, [Y/N] dipped his fingers into a bowl of white paint, drawing circles upon Shiro's body. The paint covered his whole body, from his head to his feet. For the finishing touch, [Y/N] gently ran his fingers down Shiro's lips, drawing a line down to his chin. [Y/N] looked up as his and Shiro's eyes connected. Clearing his throat, [Y/N] stood up, looking at Shiro.

"You will follow me." He said.

The Paladins and the Omatikaya watched as [Y/N] emerged first, then Shiro. Standing tall and proud. He walked up to 'Etsluei. 'Etsluei placed both hands on Shiro's chest and held them there. He gave Shiro a proud smile.

"*Ngenga 'itan Omatikayaä luyu set. Na'viyä luyu hapxì." 'Etsluei said. [Y/N] smiling brightly, was the next to place his hands upon Shiro's shoulders. Uäze followed suit. All the members of the clan pressed forward, crowding around and putting their hands on Shiro's shoulders, back, chest -- hands upon hands, until he is connected to everyone. Allura and Coran stood near the back with the other Paladins, smiling proudly at the leader of the Paladins. He had managed the greatest accomplishment of his life. Becoming one with the Omatikaya people.

~~~~

* Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. = I See you, Brother, and thank you.

*Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì. = Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People.

*Ngenga 'itan Omatikayaä luyu set. Na'viyä luyu hapxì. = You are now a son of the Omaticaya. You are part of The People.

[ethereance]

Screw it. *Genderfluids your Lance* Post s8. Fix it.

Lance thought his Altean markings were cosmetic. Nothing more. Nothing less. A gift from Allura, leaving a piece of her with him, to look back and remember with fondness her company. As if he could ever forget a girl as incredible as her.

It’s not until much later he realises it’s something more. That maybe Allura gave a portion more than he expected. He stares, face to face with his mirror. Something off. Something strange. Something that grabs his attention before he really knows what he’s looking at.

His ears slowly shift back to human. But they were there long enough. He saw the Altean ears.

“Incredible,” Coran says when Lance broaches this to him, and after multiple attempts at trying at failing at repeating what happened in the mirror. At last he succeeds. “You’re shifting just like an Altean.”

“I’m not turning Altean, am I?” he panics. He’s pretty attached to being a human and all.

“Haha! Don’t be ridiculous number three, you can’t just ‘turn Altean.’ Good one! Turn Altean, he says. That’s one to remember for an open mike.” Then Coran takes one look at his genuine distress and sobers. “Rest assured, my boy, you’re one hundred percent earthling, ears and all. Allura wouldn’t change you so completely when she loved you the way you are. It just seems she passed our chameleon-like abilities over to you. I can’t say I’ve ever heard anything like this ever documented before, but Allura…”

“Has a way of accomplishing the possible,” Lance offers when Coran’s eyes grow distant, bittersweet.

“Yes,” agrees Coran. Something proud, something sombre, “That she did.”

***

Lance practices often, following Coran’s guidance. Even Romelle drops by at Coran’s request, eager to show someone the ropes.

“In the colony, we had little need to shift as our ancestors had. Our only home had been there, tucked away in a corner of the universe. We understood little of the outside world except what Lotor brought us. Even so, it was an ability we never lost. When you have mastered it, it’s like walking. It becomes natural. To some more than others,” she says, a surprisingly patient teacher. He wonders where this side of her was when she was trying to get him to teach her to pilot. “You may be the ‘others’! But that okay. My… my brother Bandor was the same.”

For such a bright supernova of a person, it is easy to forget that, like Coran, Romelle has been touched by grief. And grief again.

“You strike me as an adaptable person, pointy chin. Like rivers and oceans, it has made you you. I have full confidence in your abilities. And if Allura were here.” She smiles, and it is pain, but beauty. A flower unfurling in the wake of a storm. “I know she would say the same.”

***

He finds himself slipping into other forms like a glove. It becomes easier, a swifter motion just as Romelle had said.

It’s freeing, in a way. To walk as something so slightly adjacent to him. A Lance of another life. Altean, balmeran, olkari, puigian, anything he can think of.

He loves being Plaxum’s species the most. A mer. Beneath the waves, it feels like coming home. He’s a missile underwater, swimming loops around coral.

Dreams really do come true.

***

There’s something about transforming that pulls him that much closer to Allura. Her quintessence sings to him, and his skin dances. He feels alive as he hasn’t in a long time.

Happier maybe. Or that much closer to it.

He wishes he could take a photo of Keith the second he catches sight of Lance, a good extra foot on him, and purple as a plum.

“So this is a… thing,” says Keith eventually. And what an observation that is. Lance explains.

“Don’t let Hunk catch you like this,” is Keith’s response, a hint of tired amusement, “He’ll call you Galra Lance and never stop.”

***

It starts with him shifting into an unilu. He needs the extra hands. Lance doesn’t realise the gender he’d chosen until Coran points it out offhandedly. Now, Lance knows that not every species is going to be quite so clear cut as biologically male or female. Some have more some have less. Some won’t even know what the word gender means. He has experienced a taste of the universe. He knows how vast and diverse it is. When shapeshifting into a species like that, it makes sense his gender isn’t something he’d retain.

Female. He’d made himself into a female unilu. It was a matter of size and facial shape. Nothing too strange, no stranger than his body shifting into a skin it wasn’t born into, but noticeable enough.

And isn’t that something.

***

It’s out of curiosity he tries the same as a human. Curiosity and nothing more. Just because he can. Really. Honest.

Lance half expects his girl!sona would just be a carbon copy of Rachel with the added blue scales residing beneath his eyes. But that isn’t who he sees in the mirror.

He sees. Well, he sees himself.

Herself.

She looks, feels, kind of pretty. Which makes sense. She’s Lance. Of course she looks great. Goes without saying.

Lance’s lip twitches.

***

So. So maybe he throws on the form again. And again. And again. Maybe a little more than he does with any alien species. But can you blame him? He’s just found out he has a free trial at being a girl so quiznack if he isn’t going to try it out.

Her hair is long. Her hair is short. She pulls off both looks well, she thinks. Being a girl is kind of awesome, actually.

It’s not always the case. Sometimes it just isn’t right. But others? Sometimes he finds himself slipping into her without realising it. It’s just what feels right to her in the moment.

There’s something nice about strangers using ‘she’ and ‘her’ and they don’t know. They don’t know. Something in her bubbles, giddy, they don’t know.

But Lance’s family do. Pidge does.

They look at Lance—now once again a boy—and hum, thoughtful, considering.

“Are you are girl?” they ask. Pidge does not beat around the bush. It throws Lance through enough loops to put him in a spiral.

“No”, says Lance. But for some reason that doesn’t sound quite right. “I mean. I’m not always. But—”

“You are sometimes?”

“I guess. But it’s just shapeshifting. I’m not actually—” Lance trails off, lost. “Am I?”

“Do you want to be?” Pidge asks, and huh. Does he want to be? Is it really that simple? He’s always seen himself as a guy, and had no problems with that. But.

Well.

“… Maybe. Maybe sometimes.”

Pidge grins, wild and victorious. “Welcome to the club.”

(Something in his chest feels lighter. There’s a cavern, because it has made its mark and stayed. That has not changed. But this is this.

How wonderful it is to find the answers to secrets within oneself. He could have lived his whole life without knowing, a part locked away without him ever knowing there was a lock. But now, how could he?

It’s like he’s no longer holding in a breath.)

***

Pidge later tells him it’s criminally unfair he can change his body on a whim. They are fine with she, they are, but they are them. Sometimes she is just too much she to match their they.

Lance wonders how much Allura managed to see him. He remembers how close they became, how she became someone he’d call a best friend, then a lover. How she perceived him better than most throughout it all. Looked to him and saw greatness where he, despite wanting to be so much more, only saw failure. He wishes he knew what she saw when she looked at him. The person he was. Is. Lance.

If she knew what these markings have done for him. Did she know?

She can’t have done. Lance didn’t even know.

(But if she had—

It’s not like Lance can ask.)

***

Allura comes back.

She descends like a shooting star, the blinding light of an angel’s fall. She falls home and it is at home she stays. Days are bliss. A dream Lance dare not wake from.

“You’re not dreaming,” she tells him, soft, and kind, but aching, “I’m here. I won’t leave again. My duty to revive the universe is fulfilled. I’m here to live. And I chose to live with you.”

He kisses the words from her lips, blissfully sweet. She more than happily complies.

“I never meant to hurt you this much.”

“You’re here now,” Lance says, and it sounds so beautiful spoken out loud like this. How long he’s dreamed for such a moment. “That’s all that matters. We can move forwards together.”

This is their start.

***

It takes a while. But she tells Allura.

Allura kisses her senselessly. Lance loves it.

“Though I can’t take credit for this being my intention, I’m glad you learned more of yourself.” Allura’s fondness is an ocean she could drown in. “I love the person you are.”

“Yeah?”

Allura’s hand trails Lance’s ear. “Yes. Very much so. It’s an added bonus that I managed fix your ears. You have tried an Altean form, right?”

Lance jolts. “Allura!” she protests, a little put out. “What’s wrong with my ears?”

“Nothing,“ she says, warm and amused. “Nothing at all. I find that they have grown on me greatly. They’re cute. Just like the rest of my girlfriend.”

Oh. Girlfriend.

Her heart is full.

[blorbologist]

How about... Healing Spirit + Perc'ahlia?

15. Healing Spirit

"You call forth a nature spirit to soothe the wounded. The intangible spirit appears in a space that is a 5-foot cube you can see within range. The spirit looks like a transparent beast or fey (your choice).

Until the spell ends, whenever you or a creature you can see moves into the spirits space for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, you can cause the spirit to restore 1d6 hit points to that creature (no action required). "

Vex’ahlia returns home to silence. 

She usually does not get home from Emon this late - or, if the Council meetings do run into the evening, there’s usually one or two stubborn children waiting up for her. The room is silent as the magic dissipates - no soft bickering, no snores, nothing.

So. If the clock was not lying, it was just about one-forty in the morning. (And it was one of Percival’s creations, and so good to the second)

Percy was clearly waiting for the glow of the Teleportation sigil to flare - as she settles into a stretch he appears in the doorway. Her heart gives a pang - he’s even changed into his pajamas! Without her! 

Finding a burst of frustrated energy, Vex launches herself into his arms. He smells only of their bedsheets, his favorite soap and, beneath that, the soft shampoo they use on Gwendolyn. 

“Good evening,” he chuckles, the give of his chest beneath hers something relieved. “I gather it was nothing dire that kept you from bed?”

She kisses him soundly on the mouth. Waiting another minute, when she last kissed him this morning, would be anguish. “Only the best of company, actually - Gilmore was in the area and we caught up.” Her face falls, faux-regretful. “I would have let you know on the Sending stone, darling, but -”

(Well. They had had a little distraction, during the break between meetings. Moreso Vex tormenting her poor husband to take her mind off the dull tedium of bureaucracy. Allura definitely gave her a look when she rejoined the discussion all smiles.)

It had been a long and exhausting day - flirting with her husband or not, by all rights she should be drained. But Gilmore had dropped by at the end, to offer the insight of a civilian invested in the argument, and he was right, it really had been too long, and there was this bit of elven enchanting he wanted her thoughts on, and maybe the conversation turned to - 

“I missed him,” she says. “He sends you his best.”

“Is this his best?” Percy grumbles against her lips, all smiles. Vex rolls her eyes. She takes his cheeks in her hands and presses heavy, dramatic smacks to each. There, those are from Gilmore - the rest are hers.

She butts her head against Percy’s chest, to drum her thoughts into order with his heartbeat. 

“Were the children -”

“Perfectly misbehaved,” he replies. “I had to chase Dan up and down the stairs to get him into the bath, and Gwendolyn took the opportunity to Thaumaturgy the bathwater into waves.”

Vex grins - they don’t dare try that with her. “Thank you, darling.”

“It was a pleasure; dodging sudsy water keeps the reflexes well in order.” He pecks her nose, leads a trail to her ear that makes her shiver. “Bed?”

She knows he’s being a shit - everything from the way he said it to the blue of his eyes to the taptap of his fingers on her waist - and draws comfort from the humor. Yawns, because there’s something cozy to lazy foreplay. 

“Bed,” she agrees, peeling herself from him to take his hand. The elegant curl of the Teleportation circle’s runes catch her eye - she startles.

“Oh! No, wait - Percy, what were you up to today?”

He frowns, more confused than he would usually be given the late hour. “The usual? Sorted out some paperwork. Gwendolyn and Vax’ildan allowed me to bring them into the workshop so I could watch them as I tinkered.”

“Did anything go wrong?” she presses, squeezing his hand in both of hers. “Any bruises? Burns?”

“If you’re asking if I handled anything explosive around the children, dear: no.” Percy nonetheless rolls up his sleeve to reveal a mottling of purple and green, cloud to a jagged red center. Not a bad burn by any means - he likely expected her to find it as they prepared for bed and heal it then.

“Gilmore has stumbled on the most interesting little enchantment,” she says around her grin. “We spent hours fussing over it, and by the end - well! It gave me an idea, darling.” 

“And idea,” says Percy, like that’s a dangerous word in her mouth. Which, to be fair, it usually results in an interesting aftermath. But not that sort, this time.

Vex winks. “I think you’ll like it.”

It casts a lot like Conjure Woodland Beings - feels too slow and too fast at once, per the Feywild’s influence. 

The end result is less solid - not a creature but a hope, a wish she could hold in her hands. A little bear cub of periwinkle and azure. Not Charlie, but familiar enough that she sees the recognition light up her husband’s eyes.

“Oh - hello there,” says Percy. He holds out his hand to the spiritual echo of Trinket, which touches its nose to his palm.

“What do you think?” Vex asks as the burn and bruise both are banished in pale mist. Percy turns his arm this way and that, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

“I want to see what Trinket thinks of this,” he declares, too giddy for two in the morning, and starts dragging her down the hall as she laughs. Muffling it beneath her hand when she remembers their brood is (should be) asleep at this hour. 

(They find that Wolfe was, in fact, not asleep, instead reading a book far past lights out - and Trinket does not find the spectral bear agreeable at all.)

[Send me a spell and I'll write a ficlet/snippet to go with it!]

[breezycheezyart]

More headcanons please

🥺

👉👈

Gah, you've twisted my arm!! Alright, alright, I give!! 😩

One night cycle when Shiro was roaming around the castle, he heard the most beautiful sound drifting from the supposed empty ballroom. It was Allura's singing. He would stay hidden and listen until he felt sleepy and would return to his room, keeping this secret to himself. Eventually, she catches him and they have a nice night talking about altean culture 🥰. (NOTE: If I happened to get this from a fic and just didn't remember, I apologize. I've gone full delusional for this ship, so I'm unsure which is my content and which is content I've consumed lmao)

Speaking of fics, whatever outcomes that have happened in shallura fics where they spar, have absolutely happened. Make of that what you will 😉😏 (this is a call for more shallura sparring content, including myself)

One of the perks of having a shapeshifting lover is that your spooning options expand! Wanna be Big Spoon, Little Spoon? No problem! Perfect cuddles every time.

They've definitely practiced the "Bob, THROW ME!" Incredibles Toss™. Took a couple of tries and trips to the healing pods, but they got it down and it was totally worth it!!

Shiro Stop Staring At Your Beautiful Wife Challenge Failed for the 45728394th Time. He's definitely walked into walls while doing this.

Do you ever think about how Shiro's color scheme reminds you of the night sky and Allura's is like the dawn of a new day and just sigh in your soul because they are just so perfect for each other? Yeah.

The Black Lion and Allura talk about how much of a Good Boy Shiro is. Black has also told her how much of a GIGANTIC crush Shiro had on her and how much of a struggle it was to prevent from letting him know it was reciprocated. Seriously, it was painful. Black gets a refreshed paint job and maintenance as a reward/apology.

Which is stronger: Shiro's Lovesick Puppy Eyes or Allura's Super Sad Pout? This is a hotly debated topic amongst the paladins.

Despite their best efforts to be good models for the other paladins, they end up learning curses in each other's language. Coran disapproves, until reminded that only a few shots of nunvil gets him cursing like a sailor.

Sometimes Allura's (and Coran's) ears twitch when they hear something. Shiro finds this very cute. Allura counters that Shiro's ears turn pink when flustered. He finds this less cute (which prompted said ears to, in fact, turn pink).

Shiro casually places his hand in the small of Allura's back and her brain goes brrrr

Allura scritches the back of Shiro's head and his brain goes brrrr

Shiro has Normal Feelings™ about Tollura.

Allura has Normal Feelings™ about Shiro's chest when he crosses his arms.

Spinning hugs are the best. Doesn't matter who lifts who, it's always lovely to see 💜

[seldomscilence16]

Voltron in "The Little Mermaid" part one!

Hello all! A little late but heres a short part of a short piece For Julance and Lances Birthday (cause I take forever to do anything and it wasnt ready in May :/). I really loved the Live action, by far the best out of them all, so heavy inspiration pulled from that one- as well as some spoilers with song references and scenes ect so warned- but I also pulled from the cartoon and musical a bit and just mashed a lot of randomness together!

Now I'd like to thank @paracosm299 for reading this and helping out in the brainstorming process! They were a huge help, and as always a humungus support! Love you!

I'd also like to thank @autisticlancemcclain @awhoreintheory and @mothmanavenue ! The first two for answering my asks and moth for beautiful art making me fall in love with a ship used in this fic. And for just being overall amazing, keeping my love for Voltron alive and giving so many people reasons to smile!

Anyway, enjoy part one of this little fic! I will try to get the other parts out soon (im planning for 3 to give me easy goals 🤞).

~~~

The ocean was abuzz with commotion and far too many visitors, all oozing with the need to please the Emperor. Lance had far better things to be doing, though his father would attest, and he found himself swimming farther and farther from the noise. Which wasnt odd of course, Lance could be found on the outskirts of Alteaica more often than not.

"I could've sworn it was around here somewhere..." Coran, an older creature and Lances Best friend, indulged Lances curiosity the most.

He didnt know much of the man, despite how often his rambles and odds and ends left Lances head spinning, but the mystery of him intrigued the merman. He was a bit of an outcast, kept out of the public eye as much as possible like he knew something Lance didnt. And he did, know a lot that is, places and history and things from a time before Lance came to be and further. Allura chided Coran for being a bad influence, but her heart never seemed in it, Lance had seen her far off stare as she listened to a ramble far too much to believe she didnt too know more than she said.

"Oh!" They pass farther than typically allowed, and Lance sees the reason why.

Below lays a wrecked ship, one Lance has yet to explore.

"Come on Coran!"

"You know this reminds me of..."

Lance listens idly to Corans tale, scanning the area carefully as they decend to where the boat rests on the sea floor. He thinks of the storm that would have caused this, thinks of the lives of the humans on board, wonders how many of them made it home. The Emperor would scoff at him, berate him for sharing a caring thought towards the very beings were endanger their waters. But as they drift into the wreck, and his eyes catch on every little detail, he cant help but think they are so much more.

"...And then Alfor sneezes and the whole colony popped, completely vanished, I still wonder what happened to those little quiznakers, they stole my snacks..." For an Octopus, Lance can help but think his face shows perfect contempt for whatever those creatures were.

Its not the first time Coran has spoken of this Alfor, nor of creatures Lance has never heard of, using words he long since has grown accustomed to figure out with the context given. He hears every story, and watches the expressions his friends take, and hurts to know that they too hold pain in their hearts, for something Lance is not allowed to grasp for whatever reason. So instead he distracts, with human curiousities and questions and weaved tales of his own. Coran loves his inquisitive nature, Romelle finds humor where she can and has something that shines in her eyes when he puts something together- he'd put anything together, fix anything, if only to see them all happy- and Allura acts aloof at times, but she loves learning and new things and arguing with Romelle until they both laugh so hard it hurts.

So even for a moment, these human things, bring them together. Things that may or may not be true, that raise so many questions that he hopes and prays to one day find the answers to. He'll collect it all, in the hopes of a future where he can be free to do something with the whirlpool of thoughts inside him. To go, to learn, to enjoy, to explore, to know.

He sticks another object in his bag, Coran dangling from it with one arm as most of the others search the floor,

"I do wonder why the sharks like these ships, never had a clear conversation with one you see, even the evolved ones, their heads seem to be in the foam sometimes, never know what theyre thinking." Coran picks up a piece of ship, examines it, then throws it already looking for something new, his query seemingly random but somehow something Lance too wondered about.

"Well, if I was like my father, I'd say they're trying to figure out how these ships work so they can better take them down." Lance rolls his eyes at this, fingers skimming over a depiction of a human. "But maybe they just like how it looks, its pretty interesting after all."

Lance had met a couple sharks in his day, he found them pretty interesting actually, but he understood how hard it was for them to find food now-a-days. And when youre always moving, they must be starving, so he respected them, gave them a good distance.

Much like with his interest in humans, Lance understood that he couldnt interact with them. For all Sendaks hate, Lance was not stupid enough to believe that he wouldnt be attacked if he did something wrong. With sharks, you could find a few that didnt want to kill you. Humans too, Lance was almost positive there had to be some that wouldn't find him a monster... there had to be.

He startles when he catches movement out of his peripheral, turning to find a large mirror. His expression is tight, and he's quick to smooth it out, he needed to be more careful with what he let his face show.

"Oh, and whats that?" He follows Corans gaze to see, what looked to Lance, a mini trident.

He uses a delicate hand to pick up the object, inspecting it with wide eyes,

"I dont know, but its wonderful. I bet Romelle has an idea." Lance smiles at Coran, glancing around once more for a last sweep, when the mirror catches his attention once again.

This time however, it is not his own reflection he sees.

Rows of teeth, pale skin, and small but focused eyes. The shark is through the side of the boat before Lance can get out any sound of warning. Hes pulling Coran out of the way, the shark dead set on them, destroying the things in its way to try and keep up.

Lance should have knows this wreck would be called for. Should have searched better, before entering what could be- and obviously was- the territory of a predator.

Every turn they take, every time Lance is sure they've lost him, sharp teeth and splintered ship come from behind or the side or in front and they have to make another hard turn, and he trying to hold on to his bag- where Coran has secured himself tightly so as not to effect Lances mobility- but as they finally exit the interior of the wreck, the shark is bursting out behind them and Lance swears he has a grip but then its gone.

He swims backwards, eyes frantically scanning to locate the Octopus, but the Shark has found him first, heading towards the sea floor. Hes comoflauged against the bag, but a trail of blood follows it, giving away his position.

"Coran!" A quick decision, a half formed plan, has him shoving a container of some sort, watching it hit the Shark who thankfully turns his attention to the larger prey. Lance darts into the ship once more, watching the shark come for him, jaw opened wide, closer..

Closer...

Closer!

The mirror shatters, and the shark becomes stuck in the outer frame.

Heart in his throat from where hes pressed against the inner walls across from said mirror, Lance waits only a moment to ensure hes stuck before darting towards the sea floor. The trail of blood has dispersed- and gods Lance hoped it wasnt serious- but his bag has an extra divet in the sand beside it.

"Coran! Are you alright?"

The orange and blues of his friend slowly return, one arm crossed over his body below his eyes as usual, and his seven others still intact. A small scratch on his head has already stopped bleeding, and Lance breathes a sigh of relief, quickly scooping up his friend, absently grabbing his bag, and swimming away from the wreck. It'd be best to be gone before the Shark made his way free.

...

Sendak casts a steady look around the crowded room, today's meeting was an important one, gathering the leaders of the seven seas to discuss important matters once a year. That brat should be here, this was one of their most important times, he should be drifting about the room like a ditz and gathering info for him. One job and the useless boy couldnt even do that. He taps his trident once and waits, eye never stopping its steady search.

"You summoned, your Majesty?" Her voice comes from above, the ghost crab gliding down to land on the rock of his throne.

"Where," he pauses to level her with the full strength of his glare, "is the boy?"

To her credit, she appears unfazed by his glare,

"I reminded him of the meeting this morning-"

"I did not ask of this morning." Sendak cuts in, voice low as he once again eyes the room, "find him."

Shes quiet for a moment, "yes, your majesty."

It wasnt hard to find Lance really, Allura practically had a sixth sense for it. Though all she really had to do was go where you werent supposed to, and you'd happen upon the boy. So of course she finds him talking with Romelle, past the territories border, and far closer to the surface than allowed. Still, with Coran's many tentacles latched around Lances arm and Romelle chattering away about whatever it is shes holding, Alluras heart swells with a fondness she cant- or rather doesnt want to- fight.

"Lonce!" She makes her way up to the rock Romelle stands on, eying the human curiousities for only a moment- things change up there so quickly- before leveling the three with a look. "Do you recall what day it is? That thing I told you this morning?"

The way Lances eyes widen- with fear, so much, too much- has her heart hurting.

"The night of the coral moon! Oh gods! Im late! Sorry Romelle! I gotta go!"

Coran has Lances bag and a grip on the rock in the next moment, just in time to brace for Lance's departure. The three watch him go, faces as glum as their animal selfs can accomplish.

"Hows the plan coming?" Allura asks after the (waves by his departure currents what are they called?) calm.

"They are simply waiting for the right moment, and for Haggar to make her move." Coran responds, one of his many arms laying across his face so another can stroke it awkwardly.

"Lets hope we dont have to wait long." Alluras tone is grave, eyes trained on the trail of a young merman, who has no idea what path was laid before him.

...

Lance was screwed this time for sure.

The Coral Moon gathering was one of the most important tasks Lance had. With so many mers in one place, it was his job to gather any and every bit of information he could, anything that may get his father ahead. It had been the only thing talked about over the past few movements, and the main reason Lance had decided to take a break this morning before the big event... until he lost track of time.

He had succesfully snuck into his room to drape himself in fancy shiny- unnecassary and gaudy, not even tasteful- decorations and such. Anything to make him look like a dumb accessory to the Emporer and be underestimated- though Lance was underestimated even by the man who knew he was more than decor. Sneaking into the event would be a problem though, Lance figured it'd be better to simply act as if he arrived late on purpose, to swim in like a ditz and lazily make his way about the room- anything to delay addressing his Father- and hopefully hear something worth while along the way.

Though worthwhile was relative, and Lance was less of a snitch than his Father trained him to be, but also very good at pretending to be one. The Emperor claimed to see through Lance, and for some things he could- though Lance thinks he simply assumes and who is he to deny the accusations really? But for things like this, Lance had been told by a few that he was an excellent story weaver, and really, thats all gossip was anyway. So long as it pleased Sendak- father, Emperor- it didn't matter.

So long as he could save the lives of a few at the expense of his own safety, it was worth it.

His entrance is met with varying emotions.

By those who follow the Emperor and hang on to his every word, he is greeted with sneers at best, and lascivious leers at worst.

By those who fear him or are simply biding their time, looks of pity or spite. Lance expertly appears non-chalant, like his head is in the sand rather than processing everything fast enough to make his head ache. Most of it was minor gossip, a few idle threats, comments on the food, current events and the likes, but Lance could make that all work.

As he glides closer to the end of the gathering space, he feels a hard stare that he had to stop himself from tensing at. He cant help but drift slower, to delay the inevitable, but he can only stall for so long. He bows to his father and takes his place beside him, swallowing thickly he waits with baited breath.

"Why are you late." The question is barely that, with how much force he puts into the quiet utterance.

"I-"

"Shipwrecks are off limits for a reason."

Lance doesnt know HOW he knows, if it was a guess or if he had more spies than Lance originally thought. For all Lance knew, the shark from this morning could have been in on it. Given, then he'd also know about Coran, and since he never mentions the man, Lance figures its probably a guess. According to Allura, hes pretty predictable like that.

"I was just scouting it out, trying to learn something." Half truths.

"On the most important day of the year, you decide to indulge your human obsession? Are you trying to make me angry?" Lance could tell the crowded room wouldnt keep his father from yelling if they kept this up.

"No Father, I was only-"

"We will talk about this later."

Lance is dismissed as quick as he was addressed to begin with, and the minute the Emperors back is turned to meet with the 'generals' of the other seas, Lance is swimming for his grotto as quick as his tail will take him. If hes in for a punishment anyway, he may as well enjoy his freedom for even a moment.

next>>

[autisticlancemcclain]

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It actually takes them a moment to find everyone, once they get to the library. Clearly, any lingering doubt from the team has evaporated, and they’re all here to give their all. They find Pidge up to her ears in laptops and tablets and wires, twelve screens blinking at her at once, code running across the screen so quickly it actually makes Keith a little dizzy. Shiro is sitting on a table with a book half his size propped open on his lap. Hunk is scanning through a truly ancient looking scroll.

The Alteans are nowhere to be found.

“Maybe they doubled back to the bridge?” Lance suggests. “Allura mentioned talking to a couple people in the Coalition to see if that lead anywhere.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth is there a flash of light, a blue so bright it’s almost white, blinding the entire library for a moment.

“Or they’re doing Star Trek amounts of space magic fuckery,” Lance mutters, and takes off immediately in the direction of the light source, dragging Keith behind him. The rest of the team, intrigued by the flash, isn’t far behind them.

At the centre of the light flash are Allura and Coran, eyes glowing white, palms pressed to a crystal carving on the wall. A crack snakes out from where their palms are placed, circling up and around to form a giant rectangle, and then the wall crumbles away.

Keith gapes. “Space fuckery indeed.”

Without another word, the team follows the Alteans down the dimly lit hallway, through a series of twisting tunnels, walls lined with carvings and paintings. They walk in silence for at least fifteen minutes, eventually forming a single file line as the tunnels get narrower, until the path finally gives way to a giant, gaping cave-like room. The ceiling goes up so high that Keith can’t see it, he just knows that it goes up. The walls are lined with shelves and shelves off books, and several more shelves are floating around the massive room. The entire room glows a faint blue.

“Welcome to the very centre of the most ancient building of Altea,” Coran says. He hardly speaks above a whisper, but his voice seems to echo. “Most of the building — the castle — is familiar to you, having been renovated to added onto the structure more recently, but this room here is one and a half billion years old.” Coran speaks quietly, reverently, moreso in a voice one might use on holy ground rather than a museum. And it feels right, too — there’s something big and powerful and ancient and suffocating about this place, like the mere air in the room enters Keith’s lungs and dissolves into his spirit. He almost feels as if he should take off his shoes, speak only in a whisper. This place feels like the beginning of everything.

Coran turns to Keith. His normally jovial expression is solemn, eyes dim and solemn. “Your situation is faintly familiar to me, my dear,” he says softly. “‘An endless living torture.’” The way he says it is almost like an incantation, like a recitation of a spell. “When I was very small, eons ago, my village was hit with an epidemic. Unusual for any village in Altea, to become panicked and weakened by a disease they could not recognise and could not heal, and that lack of security made the panic worse. The children and the elderly were the most affected, although much of the infection seemed random. Most, if not all, of the infected met their end.”

There’s a long, thick moment of silence. Every single one of them is leaned closely to Coran, likely without realizing it, eyes wide and brows creased, hands tense at their sides. Even Allura drinks up every one of Coran’s words, story completely foreign to her.

“It took too long for the alchemists to finally discover a solution,” Coran continues. “At that point, so many had died that it had seemed almost pointless. Many more bonds were ruined, after unkindness brewed from the fear of the unknown. I remember my closest friend died before I could even see her, because my parents confined me to the house, terrified I’d catch the illness from her. No one felt safe, and so no one felt compassionate. Very few, rather. Some risked their lives to care.

“The alchemists’ elixir was as hard-won as it was miraculous. In the end the illness had been a parasite, mutated by a chance string of fate. Once the problem had been identified the solution was almost easy, and quickly the sick were healed and the healthy were immunized. Great precautions spread quickly to the rest of Altea, warning other villages and the kingdom, protecting all the other people. But the damage in my village was already done.”

“Is that what I have?” Keith asks, voice coming out hoarse. His heart pounds. “A parasite? Is the rest of the team at risk?”

Coran shakes his head, and if possible the dread in his expression grows heavier. “I wish you had the parasite. It would be less foreboding, less abstract. The parasite at least is a physical illness, and one for which our MedBay is equipped to treat, for which I am easily able to identify and treat.”

The advisor sags forward, as if the energy has suddenly been sapped from him, as if someone has cut the strings that kept him upright. When he speaks again is voice is quieter than a whisper, and Keith has to strain to hear it.

“After the outbreak…the leader of the village never forgave xemself. Xe felt fully and completely responsible for the outbreak, and the guilt of the aftermath — obvious in both the many funeral pyres xe had to help burn, and the scarring left behind in those who had been healed — haunted xem everywhere xe went. No one blamed xem, of course. In fact it was the bravery of the leader that led to the discovery of the cure in the first place, as xe was one of the few people who refused to bow to the fear of infection and cared for the sick, getting samples from them also. But still xe felt the burden of fault on xis shoulders, and it was to heavy for xem to bear.

“One day the leader broke down in the square; collapsed sobbing to the ground. Xe was completely inconsolable, even to xis wife. It took hours to calm xem enough to speak. We found out —” Coran pauses for a moment, choked, as if the words are hard to even form — “we found out that long past the day the alchemists came with their solution, long past the days the final funeral pyre had been burned, the leader had been reliving the death of xis people. Again and again, xe was reliving it; in different ways every time, but the same deaths. It had never ended for xem. The days had passed normally for us, but the leader’s agony and guilt about the tragedy had warped xis quintessence, trapping xem in a purgatory of xis own making.”

Keith makes a strangled noise. In a second there are hands on him, several, big and calloused, prosthetic, ring-clad. His team is an immediate vessel of support for him, holding him carefully, pillars at his back and his sides.

A purgatory of your own making. That sounds about right. That sounds like the hell Keith is living in, day after day, and of course he’s the own root of his problems, of course he has made things more complicated for himself again.

“How do we fix it?” Pidge asks, and her voice isn’t small or scared. She sounds determined. It’s an instant calm to his heart, a balm to his fear. A quick look around to his team shows identical expressions.

Whether or not he has made this problem for himself, whether or not it’s his own guilt that is so suffocating that it’s killing him, torturing him, his team is going to help him fix it.

Lance catches his gaze and smiles, brown eyes warm and constant, familiar, and knocks their heads together gently. “We got this, Samurai.”

Lance is going to help him fix it.

“That’s why I have brought you here,” Coran answers. “I was young when this happened. I don’t remember all of it. But I remember the solution was ancient, because this curse is ancient. We had to consult the knowledge of the farthest of our Altean ancestors, when magic was at its most concentrated.” He spreads his arms wide, and the low hum of quintessence thrumming through the room pulses at his signal. He smiles slightly, a mix of wry and proud and encouraging.

“We’re going to have to search.”

———

next chapter

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

this is for @awkward-bard for filling out my survey! thank you so much!

prompt: more ballet au

Percy sits on the floor of his dressing room, stretching slowly as soft music plays in his headphones. His eyes are closed as he focuses on his pre-show ritual, his routine stretches. He can smell lavender coming from Keyleth’s dressing room across the hall, she always has that diffuser running before shows. At the Briarwoods’ company that would never have been allowed, neither would the music currently playing in his headphones, but he takes deep breaths as he shoves those thoughts away.

He can hear people talking in the hallway. It sounds like Allura and Vax. Percy just turns his music up louder, fighting off the anxiety that’s building in his chest at the sound of Allura’s voice. The differences between the Emon Company and the Briarwoods’ are stark and surprise him every day, it’s gotten easier thankfully. But the sound of the ballet mistress backstage was never good.

He adjusts his headphones to cancel noise as he switches to the score of Swan Lake, the ballet they’re currently doing and closes his eyes. In his mind he goes over the steps, picturing them as clear as day. He doesn’t need the practice, but it settles something in his mind, reassures him that the show will go well even though they’ve been doing performances for two weeks now.

He can almost feel the weight of Vex in his arms, holding her as she spins, lifting her into the air, catching her as she leaps into his arms. She is…there’s no other word for it, breathtaking.

Her poise and talent is like nothing he’s ever seen before. Not to mention her kindness. How she takes him out to dinner so she makes sure he’s had a meal, cuts off his bad thoughts about himself before he can even think them, and kisses his cheek after every mistake.

With his eyes closed and beautiful music playing in his headphones, for a brief moment he imagines himself having the confidence to pull her into the wings after the show and profess how much he adores her. He imagines her warm hands on his cheeks as her dark eyes meet his. He imagines kissing her as softly as she deserves to be kissed.

Percy is yanked from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He jumps, eyes opening quickly as he flinches back. He finds Vex crouches on the ground in front of him, her brow creased in concern. Her hair and make up are already done for the show, the swan hair piece fastened securely. But while Percy is wearing his costume already, she’s clad in pajamas covered in bears.

“Percy?” She asks softly as he pulls his headphones off. “You alright?”

He nods, “You startled me is all. Do you need something?”

Vex sits down on the floor beside him, crossing her legs as she hands him a chocolate chip cookie in a paper napkin. “Keyleth made them for everyone and I figured you wouldn’t take one unless I forced you too.”

Percy smiles a little as he takes it, “Thank you and you’re…right.” He breaks off the edge and nibbles on it, knowing that Vex won’t be satisfied until she sees him eat some of it. “Are you ready for the show?”

Vex nods, yawning as she leans her head on the wall. “You know we don’t have to be in costume for half an hour.”

Percy shrugs, “I don’t know if I would feel comfortable being in my pajamas or casual clothes here.” He doesn’t have to say it, but he can tell that Vex understands he’s talking about his previous company. “Besides, it’s part of my routine by now.”

Vex hums and reaches over to break a piece of his cookie off and pops it into her mouth. “My father’s coming to the show tonight,” she tells him apropos of nothing. “He’s bringing his wife.”

“Oh?” Percy has yet to hear much about Vex’s family outside of Vax and her half sister who’s also a dancer apparently. Nothing about her father before now. “Is that…good?”

Vex nearly chokes as she laughs, “Gods no, he’s a piece of shit.” A surprised laugh pulls itself from Percy’s chest. “He’s incredibly strict and nothing I’ve ever done has been good enough for him. No doubt when I see him after the show he’s going to give me a laundry list of all the things I did wrong.”

Percy frowns, “So don’t go and see him then, just leave.”

“I wish I could,” Vex sighs. “But it’s not polite and as the principal ballerina, I really should be there. Just if you see him trying to talk to me, can you interrupt and say that Allura needs to talk to me?”

Percy squeezes her hand, “Of course. Shall I do the same for your brother?”

Vex smiles in surprise and nods, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“You and your brother have helped me through more than my fair share of hard times, it’s only fair that I do what I can to repay you.”

Percy nibbles on another piece of cookie. They fall into a comfortable silence for a long moment, music still playing softly from Percy’s headphones. He’s never been comfortable like this with anyone, not since his family died. He splits the cookie in half and gives the bigger one to Vex, she gives him a look and switches their halves before eating.

“You don’t have to repay any of us, by the way,” Vex tells him with a mouth full of cookie. “We’re a family at this company and we take care of each other, okay?”

Percy nods softly agreeing, “Okay.”

She leans forward and kisses his cheek, smiling when he blushes, “I need to go finish getting ready. See you on stage, darling.”

“See you,” Percy murmurs as she leaves. Still fighting off the intense blush gracing his skin. Gods he’s falling deep for her.

[kidgetrash]

Monsters and Mana 2 - Save The World, Get The Girl - Chapter Two

Character:  Keith Kogane, Pidge Gunderson/Katie Holt, Lance McClain, Hunk Garrett, Shirogane Takashi, Coran, Princess Allura, Matt Holt

Pairings:  Keith/Pidge

Warnings!:  This is going to be one looooonnnggg fic! I think? So far I'm barely into the plot and I have four chapters, so let's see how far we go! I'll add warnings as they come up!

Chapter Summary: Prince "Keith" and his faithful valet, Billy, arrive at the castle of King "Matt"...

A/N: Okay, this got really confusing for me really fast, so although they have character names I will be referring to them as their actual names, it'll help, trust me!

Prince Theophilus “Keith” of Qiomend marched across the flagstones in the great hall of Ephebe castle, his boots making a rhythmic sound as he walked towards the empty throne.  Smaller than the one he was raised in, it was no less grand, its tapestries and furniture intricate and beautiful, but he had no need to look around.  He was familiar with the room, having met with King “Matt” Z’opetes several times in the past months to discuss the joining of their two countries in a peace treaty that would bring them both safety and prosperity.  He had dressed appropriately, when called to attend those who would be his new ally, practically but showing his wealth, his red and gold brocade tunic while elaborate was also easy to move in while offering protection in its quilting.  Black pants coated his toned legs, running into black buckled boots that shone despite his long journey.  His cape hung over one shoulder, again red but with gold lining, fluttering as he walked.  Belted to his waist sat his sword.  It had been his grandfather’s, handed down upon his death, and Keith had honed his skills with its blade.  He led his own troops to keep up morale and his own training in top shape.  As such, his military training and skill with a blade were renowned through many of the realms.

A few steps behind came Billy “Lance”, valet to the prince.  His loyalty was as well known as his prince, they were raised together as companions, Lance receiving valet training while Keith took on his princely duties.  He stood as tall as his prince, a fine six foot that was looked upon appreciatively by many, but was more slender, testament to the battle training he had received should his prince ever need assistance.  His outfit too was more modest.  A deep blue tunic over matching pants.  His boots came to mid-calf, leather in a simple design, his woollen cloak simple yet warm.  He too had a sword at his waist, though far less intricate than Prince Keith’s it was no less sharp nor deadly.

Ahead of them stood three more people.  Keith didn’t like being late but he had no idea who these people were or when they had been asked to attend, therefore he put it from his head and instead examined what he could see.  The two male figures were taller than himself by a few inches, but there their similarities ended.  One had defined muscle from head to toe, the kind of muscle created by years of hard tasks and trials.  His clothing was made of soft, brown leather, buffed until the sheen was gone, easy to move in while offering protection from who knew what could be thrown at him.  His hair was jet black save for the very front tuft which was a shock of white.  His face, while handsome, said he had seen his share of horrors in this world and was no longer impressed by them, the aged scar across his nose showing someone had got the best of him at least once.  Standing several feet away, the other man was sturdier built, someone who knew he had stopping power and knew how to use it to his advantage.  He was dressed in a lavish fur cape from a snow wolf, white and grey fur catching the torchlight as he moved to see the newcomers.  His skin tone marked him as Snagori, the currently quiet country to the north who had made it no secret that they would take Ephbe and Qiomend, should the opportunity arrive.  A large sword was strapped to his back, one that was at least twice as thick as prince Keith’s own, with nicks along its length from heavy use.

Finally, the third, a woman in soft, white armour, snow white hair cascading down her back.  Her hair bore complicated braids with beads threading through it.  A large jewel hung around her neck, sitting against her breast like a prize meant to tempt.  She wore no weapons, that anyone could see, but none of them doubted that she was harmless in any way.

Keith and Lance reached them, nodding a greeting to them before his eyes fell on the empty throne.

‘It is very unlike King Matt to be late, your highness.’  Lance leaned towards his prince and murmured quietly.

‘I am sure he will be here any moment.’  Keith assured him, knowing that for Matt to not be here when he had an audience waiting was very out of character.

He had no more time to ponder the situation, however, as the doors to the side of the throne flew open.

Forgot to link chapter one!

Masterlist is now up!