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35.
my muse dies in your muse’s arms.
“ lotor! ”
it seems pointless. screaming into the astral as if someone might hear him , but it’s all he has , confined to this plane , watching his friends battle each other. they fight as if death is the only viable outcome , but it should never have come to this. some part of him believes he is to blame. if only he had been there , been himself to divert the impending battle , to cease the fighting and work this out. lotor had wanted to change the future for the galra , and he knew that hadn’t been altered. perhaps there was no forgetting the choices he made , but would they condemn him when he wanted to be better? would they be so unforgiving as to sentence him to a mindless death , consumed by energy so powerful it could ruin him?
“ lotor! ”
he wished desperately that it wouldn’t be so. but where keith had once heard him , he now stood alone amidst a field of blinding light , surrounded by energy that continued to press down on him , crushing black until he was sure they’d collapse into themselves. they were quickly running out of time , and his fears were slowly growing. he could hear the others shouting , understood that they would die here if they stayed any longer , and it became painfully apparent they intended to leave lotor behind.
he doesn’t know if it’s black , the quintessence , his charged feelings , or a combination of everything , but the dynamic shifts and he can see lotor sitting in the cockpit of the sincline. his heart aches at the sight of him , lost and consumed by the energy pulsing through every fiber of this dimension. it warps and twists him until he becomes something almost unrecognizable.
“ lotor , listen to me — ” but his voice goes unheard as he watches lotor fight voltron with single-minded focus. shiro knows that he can’t be heard , but it doesn’t stop him from reaching out , from pressing a palm to lotor’s cheek , holding him gently despite the deranged , feral look that painted his features. he didn’t know if lotor could hear him through the quintessence pouring out of his veins , blinding him to everything , or if somewhere deep inside he was desperately trying to reach back , but he didn’t pull away and shiro forged on.
“ i’ll find you , lotor. i won’t leave you to die alone. i won’t. ” he cradles his face between his hands , metal thumb caressing his cheek , and vows to himself that he would find a way to make this right. he stares into lotor’s unflinching gaze , pained by the lack of recognition and feels the pull of black , dragging him away. “ i promise. ”
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season’s yeetings, everyone 🥰
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“May the stars reunite us”
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alteamade.
her hand within the comfortable grasp in his lap increases its grip, softly, almost as though she is afraid he’ll let go. behind his seemingly blood-stained countenance lies a gentleness he once was berated for, by someone who should have loved him unconditionally ( that must be why he is afraid to show this extension of himself, why he is afraid of the reaction from those who see; but, it is a beautiful thing for her to have the pleasure of witnessing ), and she welcomes it with open arms. it is a part of him she is enamored with, and a part of him he reserves for her alone. she wants him to understand how much value it has with her. ❝ now that one of our biggest obstacles is out of the way, perhaps there is. ❞ a sigh escapes her lips as she closes her eyes and leans into him, an effort to capitalize on the innocent bliss permeating their presences.
❝ i apologize for being more absorbed in other things; truthfully, everything has been a little suffocating. ❞

❝ please— do not apologize, ❞ a plea in earnest because she is not to blame for the sum of his people’s mistakes— there are errors he must correct with utmost urgency ( when he’s rested and recuperated the energy lost to ascending his rightful throne ). with elegance unbound does she uphold the duties bestowed upon her as one of the last remaining alteans and heiress to their people; is a light meant to cast out the remaining darkness in the universe. it’s a heavy burden to bear alone, he knows, especially when she watches the rest of her team pine for their families and loved ones while she lost her own. it’s a sentiment he knows far too well, and it’s one they share. ❝ i understand the pressure of the worlds’ eye resting on you, but you are not alone, allura. ❞
it’s fascinating, really; the way it’s so easy for allura to bid him to break down his pre - constructed barriers around her. it’s something she never truly asks for but he’ll answer to anyway because she is the calm in the eye of the storm that’s raged for far too long. allura is his peace. & it’s with this in mind that his thumb strokes the back of her hand, an attempt to soothe her wayward thoughts and ground her to their present standing. ❝ whatever you should need, i will be here . ❞
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hey remember when i made a starter call and then never wrote starters
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i mean, i figured they’d kill my boy, but they really did lotor dirty in this series. honestly, the means of resolution for lotor and his family was really shitty.
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@lnstinctalone asked for a start !!
there is a pause between words exchanged on behalf of the race kieth had begrudgingly lost, temper flared when he hadn’t expected the sudden change in course he’d taken because he knows the city just as well as someone born and raised in it. of course, his knowledge comes with his interest in meandering every street corner, every small hole - in - the - wall coffee shop, and every possible escape route should he ever need to take one. it’s something that comes with natural ease once he’s remembered each landmark ( this one having been the interesting statue used to commemorate the town’s founder; flashy and eccentric as he seemed to be ). he watches keith’s lips form the words that berate him for the use of an alternate route in order to win— he even vaguely hears his voice bemoan that doing so was against whatever rule he’d made up in his head to justify his own loss. in truth, lotor’s only half listening to the rant so willingly uttered as if to talk some sense into him, but he’s far more focused on the way his brows narrow when he speaks with passion ( albeit anger ). flared indignation does not dull the beauty of his features nor does it cease the way lotor leans in without realizing. when keith stills, he’s asked what he’s doing, and even he himself doesn’t know— it’s a movement he’ll have to justify when it happens. his palm cups the delicate skin of his cheek before he finally understands what it is he truly wants; and what he wants is the gentle union of his lips with those that have likely sworn to annihilate him moments earlier.

he’s met with little resistance; a contrast to his expectation of being rejected entirely for the sake of his pride. their kiss is broken moments later when lotor remembers that it was an argument they were supposed to be having. a step backward is taken, space provided.
❝ my apologies— what is it you were saying? ❞
#lnstinctalone#f & f au tag.#i actually need to make proper tags sooner or later but#have this big stupid gay
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Allura and Lotor as Pokemon trainers.
#THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN WEEKS THAT YOU GRACE ME WITH YOUR PRESENCE AND THIS IS WHAT YOU POST.#ENOUGH
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My muse smells like…
Taken from: @bluechose

Tagging: @lnstinctalone & @astradivide & @prudentiae & @alteamade
LOTOR GOT: IRON AND POTENTIAL
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// kisses his cheek

❝ is this affection?? disgusting?? do it again...... ❞
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❝ i... ❞ her arms cross while she rests her hands, turning her back to him as she begins shutting him out; he was supposed to help her rebuild an empire, to establish peace within the convoluted expanse of their compressed cosmos. her expression is cold, distant, with a soft semblance of despair. ❝ you betrayed my trust. i don't know if i will ever be able to forgive you. ❞

they wait in muted anticipation, an anxious spell washed over them both as one awaits the other to speak first. he dares not, knowing his wrongdoings extinguish any hope of redemption he may have had in her grace. she is kind to him still, allowing him within her presence after all she thinks he’s done— every story out of context, but he dares not open his mouth to dissuade her. the prince, even with well - meaning intentions, cannot deny that the means do not satisfy the end result he wished for ( a new altea kept safe from the treachery of those once considered allies ). there is not enough cunning in the world to convince her that those he’d sacrificed were not so in vain, but were instead used for the protection of the remainder of their people. he’d made due with what was known to him, resources destructive and conniving when all he wished for was the safety of their future. it seems a distant dream crumbling and dissipating like dust between his fingers that he should ever have thought he would escape the legacy of his father.
eyes follow her every movement even if he cannot meet hers. he’ll watch as her back turns to him, yet still she speaks as though she’s disarrayed that she could never forgive him. it’s a resolution he’s willing to accept, especially after he never even intended to tell her the truth about the depths of his past. lotor could not blame her if she deemed fit to never speak to or entertain an audience with him ever again ( even if his heart yearns for him to apologize and right the wrongs she hates him for, even if there will never be a way ). a resigned sigh escapes the hollows of his lungs through the mass sitting at the edge of his throat. it is everything he wished he could assure her with— every promise he wished to make to her that everything would work out and that he would be better— but he dares not air them. instead, he will stand silently behind the walls they’ve both built after all the insurrection and mistrust all because he couldn’t speak then.
❝ princess, i am undeserving of your trust. i do not expect to gain your forgiveness, either. ❞ not when he cannot forgive himself.
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laughs softly, arm sliding around his waist to tug him close and press lips gently to the curve of lilac with a hum. " easy there. "

his laughter is a hurricane, always bolstered to the highest tier where it sweeps him away without mercy. it is cruel in some ways, but also brings gentility in its wake when he’s finished, hands caressing his body wherever he so desires. somehow they’d made their own way among the stars beginning from the most subtle encouraging touch and ending here with the lazy roll of bodies pressed immeasurably close where their legs tangle within the sheets of a bed built only for one. there is an insatiable comfort that lies in the fact that shiro somehow refused to believe that he is the sum of his atrocities— blood coating his hands that he could never pose an ill - mannered attempt to wipe clean. they are stained such that even his dreams depicted the horrified faces of those he’d betrayed ( the end justifies the means, the end justifies the means, the end justifies the means !! ). his sins tower over him much like a proud mountain daring him to reach its peak; always within reach had he enough daring or prowess.
& it is here that he finds himself breathless at the cause of the one man who believes in him in a way that he could never believe in himself. it is he that encourages the prince to guide his people into a new era where relentless hatred and pointless violence are a thing of the past. it is he that makes his knees week and voice tremble when he is buried deeply inside him, a searing pain that he embraces because he needs this just as much as shiro does. it is with unbound grace that his hips gyrate, creating an addictive friction that he’s quick to lose himself in— enough that he hardly feels shiro’s arm wrapping around him until he’s pressed taught to his chest. oh, how he wished he could hear that desperate heartbeat pounding deeply within shiro’s chest ( would it match the rapid excitement of his own? would it exceed it? ), especially when his lips mold to his neck, teeth seeking purchase when his encouragement resounds against his skin. it’s a depth and gentility he could never truly tire of, not when it is clear that he is interested in taking everything and more that lotor is willing to offer.
❝ you have a… horrid habit of asking the impossible.. ❞ it escapes his lips as a breathy cadence, brows narrowed when he considers his suggestion a mild impertinence due to his own lack of patience. to go ‘ easy ‘ is the last thing he wants, namely because such a raw and uninhibited connection is something he hardly gets the chance to experience. ❝ as i recall, you were to be the one relaxing. ❞
#astradivide#oops#sorry not sorry#nsfw#i forgot how to write#i don't even know what's happening#anyway#have this
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“What about your generals?”
“A simple misunderstanding.”
#i think about the relationship between lotor and his generals a lot and#well#this new season has amplified everything about those thoughts#i'll eventually write something out about it but#today won't be that day
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