#and his space paladin boyfriend

[gusthemoose]

Summary:

A werewolf hunter coming to town is not a good sign for Sheriff Cobb Vanth but as the seasons change they'll learn how to live together in this small town.

Notes:

Shout out to the amazing artist I got to work with, Sof Gigante, who immediately picked out the one scene I wrote this whole fic for. They made amazing art that you'll get to see at that scene and were awesome to work with. The title of this fic comes from the Chicks Song "Wide Open Spaces" and this entire fic was written to the 90's Country playlist on Spotify if you want to pick up on the vibe that drove this fic along. More adventures in the werewolf!AU I just love writing. If you want to read more of this universe there's another fic in my DinCobb Week 2022.

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

[nocturn-warrior]

Kiss of seedcake• 🌧

Lotor x f!reader

Summary: building a life with Lotor on Earth after the galras were defeated, you decide to try for a child :)

Rating: fluff, smut (breeding kink)

Notes: this is set after season 8 events, in a timeline where my boy Lotor didn't die and lives happily with u on Earth. This smut has a plot.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and lactation, body changes mentions, mentions racism towards Lotor, my grammar because i am not a native speaker lmao

since Sendak and his army was completely defeated thanks to Voltron and their allies. And with an extra help of the space visitors, human kind quickly rebuilt its structures, combining the advanced technologies of their new colleagues with their own. Flying vessels, space travels and colonies, complex security AI systems and media were a great leap in history.

Not surprisingly, interspecies relationships emerged among the coexistence of humans and extraterrestrials, besides it was a taboo for some people, the most conservative ones, you could easily spot a human walking and a balmeran holding hands on the streets. But as expected, racism towards the space visitors was a thing, especially towards the galra people.

Being blamed for the death of so many, even not having affiliation with Sendak’s deadly army, the purple skinned people were a target to bigotry not just coming from humans but also from other extraterrestrials. With your partner Lotor, it wasn’t different. Making public appearances together, you could feel the reproved gaze of your peers, judging the nature of your relationship as disgusting, selfish. Some showed concern, fearing Lotor could harm you in any way, while others called you an enemy, a traitor for engaging yourself to an individual of a species that slaved, tortured and killed so many in the galaxy.

As the only begotten son of emperor Zarkon, so many wanted his head for what his father caused during centuries, and for reprehensible actions of his own. You were constantly reminded of Lotor’s thirst to acquire quintessence and what he did to reach his goals, the hundreds of alteans locked in tanks he utilized as cattle to harvest the substance. The United Planets Council decided he would not receive death penitence or be locked for his crimes, but he should be exiled.

“Exiled… I am used to this condition”

It was better this way; though Lotor wanted and deserved redemption, not everyone including the paladins would accept it easily. When you established you would not abandon him, they immediately intervened reminding you of what his family caused to everyone, of what your late friend princess Allura would want. You were tired of it all. You loved Lotor and wanted to keep him safe, even if it means cutting connections with your friends. You couldn’t risk having your boyfriend stabbed from behind by a vengeful self-proclaimed punisher.

Lotor understood the gravity of his actions he didn’t even tried to defend himself. But he repined every day about how quintessence drove him mad, crazy for power, and that those moments of madness showed up as nothing but foggy memories in his mind. It broke your heart to see Lotor eager to be accepted in this new multispecies society, but being doomed by his past. Deep in his core, all he wanted was that: to be accepted and to fix everything up. Even when he was still the prince of the mighty galra empire, all he did was for a bigger purpose. He knew he took the wrong route, though.

Four years ago you moved together to your family’s old farm; only you, Lotor and the desire to begin a new life. Part of the farm, including the barn and the stable were destroyed by the attacks, but luckily the house you grew up in was intact, except for the dust and spider webs covering the rooms. Nothing you couldn’t fix up. Lotor is a quick learner, his intelligence was always something you appreciated, and with a quickly explaining of how to use house devices, he became a master at it except for the vacuum cleaner.

“How can you pilot a high technological spaceship and be defeated by a vacuum cleaner, my dear?”

You would tease him, leaning against a wall while seeing your lover struggle to clean the dust of the living room. Lotor in his endeavor would blame the device instead of admitting he was having a bad time using it. You find that silly and adorable. It took some days for your house to be properly inhabited again, with Lotor’s help, everything was easy.

He would wash clothes, cook for you – that thin waist of his looked adorable in one of your late grandmother’s apron, and a few other things. But still, he missed space and missed the adrenaline. That mind of his was always hunger for knowledge and staying so much time without absorbing anything was frustrating and tedious. Lotor in fact would not complain about it, but noticing the lack of enthusiasm in your love, you gifted him with a box of the old books you used to read while graduating; psych, biology, chemistry, and others you kept a special interest about but were not exactly linked to your graduation; history and anthropology.

Besides you were a good storyteller, talking about the myths and cultures of your species along with its advances and knowledge on science, nothing compares to touch, read and learn about something from primary fonts. As you expected, Lotor was more than happy when you handled him your collection. Some of the concepts stored in the books were at least eight years outdated, but still he could have a notion of humankind’s plurality, maybe hoping he could integrate himself into society one day.

Everything was so perfect you feared something bad would happen to spoil the moment. Your days were simple and cozy in your home, and occasionally you had to leave to buy some groceries but would come back soon.

Four years ago when the invasion occurred, families found shelter in the rural areas once the galras attacked the big urban centers first. And from this, a small agriculture and livestock centered community was born. They provided food for the cities near the reagion, and living only one or two miles away, you groceries from first hand.

In this specific day, you arrived home carrying a bag full of fresh fruits, vegetables, flour and some animal products. Lotor was sitting on the couch. He wore a grey sweater that reached the mid of his wrists and black sweatpants that barely reached his ankles, snuggling on his muscular calves. Big boy problems. His starlight hair tied into a messy bun was occasionally scratched as he concentred on the book he was reading. In fact, he was so focused on the book that didn't even notice you comming.

"Im back, love!"

You said opening the door and he slightly jumped on his seat.

"Hello, dear! I indeed didn't perceive you arriving. I was quite concentrated on this book i've been reading"

He got himself together, cleaning his throat before helping you to take the groceries to the kitchen. His gaze immediatly directed towards the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Which one is this?"

You ask, placing the bags on the table and cleaning your hands. Lotor blinks for a while, being snapped out of his beholding state:

"It is about the development of agriculture and how it's linked to the appearance of religious cults. I am quite amused by the first forms of art created by your species, dear, and how the belief in gods and deities is linked to the discovering of agriculture. It is pretty interesting how such topics that don’t seem to be linked at first sight are related.”

He continues:

 “The most interesting part, my dear, is that most of these civilizations were situated in quite green and prosper lands, therefore their deities reflected in the places they inhabited. While the people that lived in arid and desert places had vengeful and warrior gods.”

He speaks with enthusiasm, smiling like you have not seen in at least four years. His lust for you was being masked with non-stop bragging about what he learned in that day. Lotor was indeed fascinated by how some ancient human civilizations valorized fertility and reproduction, but what excited him most was to put this in practice. His cock jutted against the fabric of his sweatpants when he saw those sensual statues of Venus in the pages of that book. He wanted you. He wanted to make you his own goddess of fertility.

After drying your hands on a towel, you swiftly turn to your husband, paying attention to his words. But the look on his feline eyes told you everything. The pupils were dilated, shiny like binary stars. You smirk, and when you do so, Lotor stumbles on his own words.

“I have been always fascinated with this topic too, my dear.”

You put on an innocent facade, crossing your arms and leaning your beautiful hips against the counter. Lotor’s hands twitched, urging to squeeze them as you ride his cock gracefully like the goddess you were to him. He licks his lips and smiles:

“Nothing fairer, darling. You are a goddess yourself. But do you know what is missing?”

You obliviously shake your head to his question.

“A seed to be fertilized in this womb of yours”

Just by hearing his deep sensual voice, you feel your core flutter with excitement. The galran prince approaches you, closing the space between your bodies. All you do is to let him guide you onto his arms and give yourself to this blissful heat.

His thumb traces your lowerbelly, imagining it growing as a proof of the seed he implanted in your womb. He imagines your breasts swelling, leaking the milk that will nurture your child.

Lotor sinks his hand under your hair, softly bringing you closer to him and intensifying the kiss. Your fingers travel under his sweater, tracing his divinely sculpted abs one by one. The desire of being impregnated by him only grew stronger and stronger.

He strips you down, taking off your shirt and giving your breasts good squeezes before attaching his lips to the plump sides of them, leaving soft hickeys on your skin. You pant caressing his jaw as he does it.

Then, his long fingers skim down towards your groin. He gently slids down the waistband and kneals down in front of you. Hugging your hips, Lotor attaches his mouth onto your cut, sweetly suckling your clit as you tug onto his hair, undoing the messy bun he had.

"Lotor..."

You moan sweetly, and it sounds like the chant of Earth itself, like the sounds of raindrops falling onto soil.

His skilled tongue dances around your clit. Your legs tremble and if he wasn't holding you still by your hips, you would definitly lose your balance with so much pleasure being given.

And like a water dam being open, your fluids flow into Lotor's mouth and he delights on it like honey. He moans pulling off and looking up to see your divine glory squirm in pleasure.

Standing up, Lotor holds you on his arms in bridal style, you lean in like a dandelion seed being carried by wind and he places you onto the canopy bed, the plush cushion softly sinking with your body.

Looking up at Lotor while he takes off his own clothing, you get a sight of his purple large cock deliciouspy jutting against his pants. It wiggles tantalizing when his boxers are finally down, hard and reaching his lower belly.

With your fingers you trace his abs again, they are sculpted and perfect like a statue meticulously carved in marble by the best of the sculptors. His silver bodyhair stands on ends with your touch.

Lotor gently inserts his large cock in your entrance, being enthralled by your moans. Your cunt is tight for his size, but soon it accomodates his full length.

He moans loudly and sensually twitching his hips, you reach out to squeeze his muscular butt as it recoils and releases with his thrust. Your motion seems like an extra stimulus.

"Stars. May your womb be a fertile field where i will plant my crops. You are perfect!"

He pants, the pace increasing and your bodies sweating, your pleasured noises echoing through the wood walls.

"I am going to fill you up, dear. I am going to make you a mother; i am going to make you my own fertility deity."

That was when you orgasmed.

It feels like you two were perfcetly designed for this, like your bodies were shaped by universe to create life. You bury your hand underneath Lotor's hair, his front strands are falling and tickling your face. As his pace increases, you hold it tighter and beautiful gasps leave his mouth.

"I- i am comming..."

Soon, the river flooded the land and you felt his warm seed inside your womb. Pace slowing down, Lotor remains the last frictions with his cock still in your vagine.

He pants a chuckle cleaning his sweaty forehead with his forearm. You let out a dizzy smile, reaching out to cup his cheek as your brain process the event, beholding his how graceful he looks.

Releasing his cock, Lotor gently pushes the oozing translucid liquid to inside of you again, rubbing it onto your still sensitive cunt. His ejaculation is so voluminous it feels like every inch of your tube is filled up. The alien man leans in and kisses your cheek:

"You were so great, darling... I... wow! I have no words to describe it. You will be a good mama"

His sudden use of an earthling slang makes you chuckle. How can a man be so sensually irresistible, and seconds later make your heart melt with such an adorable, silly thing? This is a Lotor ability, you guess. He messes with your mind in the better ways possible.

Cleaning up the sweat, you snuggle onto Lotor's chest while calming down your nerves after such a moment. The seed has been implanted to your womb, and Lotor couldn't wait for it to grow.

[amazinglyegg]

Paladin Danse headcanons because I love this little dude

Doesn't like being talked about behind his back, even if they're saying positive things about him. If he's talking about someone not in the room he's bringing up the things he said in that conversation next time he sees them because he thinks they deserve to hear the praise/critique.

Never really looks at the little things in life. The smell of brewing coffee, the way the sun rises over the trees, the calming ambient chatter of a shared living space... it all goes unnoticed by him. He finds himself thinking about the future constantly, and it takes someone who consciously points it all out to him for him to learn to live in the present more.

LOVES learning, although that passion dies down a bit while he's in the Brotherhood, partially due to grief/trauma and partially due to the Brotherhood indirectly teaching soldiers that outsiders are bad and the Brotherhood is always right. His love gets rekindled when he joins the Minutemen.

Doesn't really believe he has PTSD and pushes away medical help because he sort of feels offended that he was diagnosed despite his skepticism. The type of person to think "I don't have PTSD because I don't have any flashbacks, I just have nightmares and intrusive thoughts and sometimes I feel the same overwhelming emotions I felt when the trauma happened... but none of those are flashbacks!" (spoiler alert, man, not all flashbacks look like they do in movies).

Touch starved but not in the "cute clingy boyfriend" way. More like the "cringing away from touch because it's physically painful" way. He hasn't gotten any sort of physical contact in SO LONG and it's seriously fucking with him.

I was going to make a separate post about this but this man would fucking LOVE laser tag. He would be IN HIS ELEMENT. He would be THRIVING. Let this guy play a game of laser tag with some other soldiers please it would be great enrichment for him.

Strangely passionate about socks. Yes, socks. Do you have any idea how GOOD high quality socks feel?? If you complain about any sort of foot pain he has sock brand recommendations for you. He's the sock equivalent of "It's 'cause you're always on that damn phone" that parents use. "Danse my head hurts" "It's because you didn't get the socks I recommended to you" "????"

Will drink as a social activity, but mostly drinks alone. Also a sad drunk.

Would love any and all fidget toys he gets his hands on. Probably refuses to use them because most of them are colorful and "toys", but if you manage to sneak a fidget cube or a tangle in his hands while he's sitting around? That bitch will be used non-stop until he leaves it somewhere and forgets about it. Will probably adjust whatever action he's doing so he can keep one hand free to keep fidgeting.

Doesn't like anything that sticks to his hands or makes a mess on surfaces, like slime, putty, paint, mud, etc. If you hand him slime he will touch it once and then leave to go wash his hands.

Sleeps hot, probably without a blanket often because he overheats. Tosses and turns a lot. Does that thing where he can sleep through basically anything but the second you try to tiptoe past him he will shoot awake.

Keeps Cutler's and Krieg's dog tags in his bedside drawer. Doesn't do so with anyone else's, not because he doesn't care about any of his other teammates who died, but because he knows if he let himself keep doing that the drawer would get filled way too quickly. That realization was at about the same time he "toughened up" a lot more and fell into the commanding officer mindset he's still in today.

Doesn't like needles. He'll get shots and whatever if he needs to, obviously, but unlike most other undesirable things he'll actually complain about it a bit instead of acting like the tough guy. Probably looks away whenever he needs to get stitches.

Eats a ton of food, not so much water. Will absolutely demolish several servings of pasta and then complain of a dehydration headache, completely unaware that the last time he drank water was 7 hours ago.

Likes training new recruits, makes him a bit nostalgic for the old days with him and Cutler. Tends to be a bit soft with the ones that really remind him of Cutler, but in the type of way where he pulls them aside just to say "You did really well today :)" completely oblivious that the poor initiate assumed they were going to get reprimanded and are now having a mini panic attack.

[emblazons]

—woke up from literal sleep to write down the thoughts that clicked for me after I made this post about the Mike/Hopper hug last night, so. Here's the expansion of all of that lmao.

people always talk about the way Mike looked conflicted when El kisses him in S3, on top of the way he seemed fine with them breaking up until she initiated the relationship again (because of the absence of Hopper). I think this is 100% true, and it’s also the start of Mike’s spiral about protecting her we see through S4.

Mike’s “care” in lieu of "love" for El (and lack of ability to tell her he loves he romantically) is directly correlated to Hopper telling him to BE CAREFUL re: El right before he died. Almost as though Mike didn’t even have space to think of El as a true romantic partner— he was too busy trying to hold up the end of her missing “dad," and why he didn't know what to do when she started talking about how she didn't belong (because he's fourteen and not capable of filling the shoes of her father lmao).

the reason why Mike said “I was worried too much about El” is because he was—he was worried in a way suited for a father, not a boyfriend (thank you @emily-tumbles-on for that tag lol).

It’s also why he was so willing to let El go back to Owens—it’s a trusted (-ish) adult figure who could help El in a way his 14 year old self could not. It’s also why he immediately seems okay with letting her go once she says she wants to + throwing away her letter, right up until he realizes where El went is dangerous again, which meant he has to restart the protector-in-Hop’s place worry (which he doesn’t want, but feels powerless to step away from in his paladin-oath-responsibility mind).

When Mike & Will get into it at Rink O Mania over Will not telling Mike what was going on, Will interprets it as romantic attachment when it’s really giving “worried parent” not boyfriend.

That entire “you should have told me” also DIRECTLY REFLECTS the way Mike sees Will as his actual partner and equal no matter the time or distance (like in S2)—and expects him to help shoulder leadership responsibilities the way romantic/life partners would by helping him look after his charge (El).

The whole painting is confusing af for Mike because he does not see El as his partner or lover, but his responsibility in Hop’s absence—and Will, in his projection, is conflating his romantic love for Mike into the familial one between Mike & El. That's also why Mike feels so insecure about not being responsible enough (!!!) and why he looks dejected the way a parent would when you tell them you want do something they used to think was fun before having a kid when Will says “we could just play DnD and Nintendo for the rest of our lives.”

The van scene takes on a whole new meaning when you think about how the second Will made it about El, it forced Mike into a mental conundrum because he felt loved as himself at first…only to have it thrown back in with this wildly inappropriate parental responsibility he has for El because of Hop’s loss. (I watched the van scene again with this in mind and...lmao. Mike's expressions make absolute sense once you keep this conflation / confusion in mind)!

Yet another reason Mike and Jonathan need to have another conversation is because both of them have been suffering from a severe parentification—Jonathan for Will, and Mike for Eleven.

Hopper returning leaves space for both of them to move back into age-appropriate selfishness/relationships (aka think about their own wants and needs with Nancy and Will for a change) because Joyce doesn’t need Jonathan to fill the “man of the house” space, Will is going to “come of age” and have Mike, and El is gonna have her dad.

....all that to say these (and probably a million more things) become WAY clearer when you realize Mike is carrying the burden of Hopper's absence not as a boyfriend, but as 14 year old boy filling a parent space...which makes me really glad Hop didn't really die in S3 all of a sudden lmao. And also...Duffers. FREE MIKE WHEELER 2025

[bluemantics]

do u have any fics u think are like REALLY funny

Oh my gosh absolutely I do have humor tagged fics. When I write fanfics I try to make them funny, so when I read, I definitely look for the same! I put stars next to my faves.

If you want to check out my romcom klance fics and support me, they're here (coffee shop au) & here (hsm-ish au) /nf.

1. skin hunger by hiuythn

Canonverse | T+ | 12.5K

Keith is touch-starved to the point of stupidity. Lance helps. Lance tries to help. Lance tries.

2. the meaning of donuts by Katranga

Canonverse | T+ | 14.7K

The next few days were filled with Lance informing everyone, multiple times, of their “new” friendship. “We’re friends now, did you hear? Keith and I are friends.” Over and over, big smile, loud voice. Looking between Keith and whoever he was telling like he expected a round of applause. Or confetti. Or a parade. What he usually got was somebody making a crack about bonding moments, which prompted a tight, put-upon sigh on Keith’s end. And Lance would look at him fondly, and Keith would have to bite his cheek to distract himself from how much he wanted Lance to lean over and kiss him.

3. The Open Space of Desire by Prevalent_Masters *

Modern AU (river giuide x climber) | E | 44.8K

Keith’s doing just fine, thanks. So maybe he dropped out of college and maybe he doesn’t have what one might call “direction” in his life, but so what? He’s got a job he doesn’t hate, he’s got enough friends for his liking, he’s got Shiro, he’s got climbing on the weekends, he’s got the hookups with closeted college boys every once in awhile, and he’s fine. Happy. He doesn’t need anything to change.

That is, until he almost accidentally gets into a bar fight with an infuriatingly attractive river guide and then starts seeing said river guide everywhere and it turns out he's less infuriating but still definitely attractive, and, well—maybe Keith hasn’t been doing that fine. Maybe one thing can change.

4. Eyes So Pretty by stormie2817

Canonverse | T+ | 2.8K

When the paladins and their friends gather for a night of drinking and relaxing, Lance indulges a little too much and says some rather interesting things about a certain paladin....

5. The Loverboy Trials by PM_Writes

Canonverse | M | 20.8K

He can tell Shiro is struggling to remain collected. “And why do you think Keith is your…sex…god?” And geez, that would be so much funnier if this wasn’t so disturbing.

The representative leads them to the back of the council room where she pulls aside a large curtain. Behind it, a huge mural stretches to the ceiling.

It looks exactly like Keith.

6. you’re lucky that’s what I like by zencetera

College AU | T+ | 4K

Lance rescues a hamster from certain doom.

or, Lance has Keith wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even realize it.

7. Billy Ray is my boyfriend by VertigoReader101

Youtuber AU | G | 6K

It was moments like these that made Lance forget about his fears of telling everyone about his boyfriend. It was moments like these that he wanted to whip out his camera and share the love of his life with the world.

8. A Keithmas Carol by YouAreInAComaWakeUp (Nikanaiko) *

Bluemantics commentary: I adore Nikanaiko's writing more than literally any other klance author's. While I didn't laugh out loud while reading many fics, I always lose my shit for their work, SO PLEASE CHECK IT OUT.

Christmas Carol AU | T+ | 28.5K

Keith has read A Christmas Carol. Keith knows how A Christmas Carol is supposed to go.

This is not how A Christmas Carol is supposed to go.

9. suite on you by adelfie

College AU | T+ | 12K

Accident-prone Lance McClain learns that his grumpy suitemate, Keith, has one rule: to leave him alone. Lance would really like to follow that rule. Really. But his clumsiness has other plans.

10. It Never Rains on Saturday by TheLegendOfChel *

Video Game AU | T+ | 22.7K

In the magical kingdom of Altea lies an ominous tower filled with monsters. Every day, adventurers battle through the tower’s levels in a never-ending quest to slay the Demon King who lives at the very top.

Lance, a talented archer, is one such adventurer. However, Lance doesn’t want to kill the Demon King.

Lance wants to marry him.

11. Keith Kogane Tries to Keep Up With a Professional Chef | Back-to-Back Chef | Bon Appétit by eggyeggplant *

Bluemantics commentary: I'm in shock this one isn't more popular since it is one of the funniest fics I've EVER read for ANY fandom. If you read this one, please give the author extra love, comments, kudos, etc.

Youtube AU | G | 3.5K

Actor Keith Kogane appears in a YouTube video with an old friend Lance McClain in an episode of Back-to-Back Chef where they attempt to make simple carbonara but they keep getting distracted by flirting with each other.

Hope these make you laugh anon!

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Romance

Warning, I definitely cursed in this, that’s just the kind of week I’m having.

Ahhhh I just love the sound of my ship trying to kill each other.

————-—————————- Shiro is trying really hard to be a good brother. That’s kind of hard when you’re in space fighting a war, but he tries.

There’s a free day in their schedule, and he’s hoping to be his brother’s wingman, or maybe help Lance plan out something a nice date.

Also, Keith has been snapping at everyone lately, and Shiro knows it’ll only be so long before he starts overworking himself again.

He runs it by Lance.

“Maybe you two could spend some time together. Keith is turning into a grumpy cat which means he needs to get out of the castle. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how fidgety you’ve been getting. It would do you both some good to have a nice, romantic date together.”

Lance had been smiling along with Shiro, his grin growing as Shiro continued. That is, until he heard the word, ‘romantic.’ His face soured suddenly and the corners of his lips dropped.

“No.”

“No?”

“No! Romance is fucking dead! Somehow I, the king of romantic gestures, fell for a guy who can’t tell flirting from an insult! I found these really pretty flowers the other day, the looked almost exactly like red roses, and you know what he did? HE TRIED TO EAT THE GODDAMN FLOWERS.”

Lance is staring at him with wild eyes, and Shiro has to restrain himself from taking a step back from the raging paladin.

Of course Keith chooses that exact moment to walk into the room. He stares at them both for a second, taking in Shiro’s terror and Lance’s flaming cheeks, and walk right back out.

Lance realizes who he was looking at and yells, “KOGANE. YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW.” He bounds after his boyfriend and their shouts can be heard throughout the castle as Keith tries to avoid his inevitable capture. Coward.

Keith’s now faint voice rings out, “I’m sorry! They looked edible.”

Is it possible to get a noise complaint in space? Because Lance’s answering scream can be heard from across the galaxy.

[klaissance]

indulgent established klance long-distance boyfriends coalition paladins/BOM keith reunion event GO:

keith gets to the dinner early

he had to ask kolivan to put him on the list as one of the BOM agents going and if that dude ever laughed at anything keith would swear he was laughing at him when he uninvited somebody else to put keith on the list

it's this gorgeous bigass hall with lovely vaulted ceilings and the biggest longest table keith has ever seen

aproned aliens are in set-up mode, scurrying around setting utensils and plates and namecards and chairs all around this table

keith has his mask up and everything and he nods respectfully at some of the staff as he starts to walk the length of the table

it's been too long since he saw the team he knows that and they know it too

he knows they miss him, knows it in his bones that they miss him at least some fragment as much as he aches for them (which is so much all the time)

pidge hacked a touchpad to let it transmit through the signal jammer outfitted at the BOM base so he does get to message and call home sometimes but tbh he's not on-base very often before he's jetting off to the next crazy mission halfway across the galaxy

anyway he's in this hall scanning the namecards and letting his mind wander while he waits for the guests--but mostly his former team--to show up

he finds his own card next to kolivan's, only it just says "blade of marmora guest" anonymous and replaceable, just like usual

allura is set to be seated at the head of the table with the other important people and key speakers

keith smiles despite himself at the thought of allura pacing the halls of the castleship this past week, running through versions of speeches for anyone who will listen

the smile turns into an ache when he thinks of lance, perched on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, or draped across the lounge couch, head tipped off the edge, listening and humming appraisingly at all the right moments

turning those warm brown eyes to the ceiling and pretending to think hard on it when allura asks him if he thinks she's ready

"of course princess" he'd say, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently

"I think you were born ready"

because lance has always been good at that, at making you feel like the most capable person in the Universe

halfway down the opposite side of this grandiose table, keith finds what he hadn't known he'd been looking for: four name placards right in a row, each labeled with a name and "Paladin of Voltron"

takashi shirogane, pidge holt, hunk garrett, and lance mcclain

keith frowns sourly at the next name, some alien duke or duchess or whatever the fuck, somebody important who has just won the diplomacy dinner lottery by being offered the seat next to the blue paladin

he looks across the table from here to his own seat, looming positively miles away across and down this long ass mcfreaking table

who made this chart anyway???

keith is still grumping about it as people begin to show up and he shrinks a little into himself, scanning the room for those familiar faces, the anticipation buzzing under his skin

he's so lost in the looking that he forgets himself and gets totally ambushed by a voice right up against his ear

"Getting on just as socially as usual, I see"

he whirls ready to FIGHT but it's allura !!! and the relief and joy at seeing her in person for the first time in multiple space-months is such whiplash that he pitches straight into her open arms and holds tight

when he recovers he takes down the mask and squirms awkwardly

allura is gentle and kind, knows he hates the diplomacy part, knows he's only here because he misses all of them, one of them in particular...

they do small talk for a bit, allura growing worse and worse at hiding her amusement as keith continues to turn and stare at the door with increasing frequency

her eyes are sparkling the way they do when she gossips and she asks him point blank "so, you must be excited to see your boyfriend again"

keith's mind goes blank "n-no" yknow like a liar

she's downright snickering at him and he still can't resist scanning the room

she throws him a bone, tells him the other paladins are running late coming back from the parade but will arrive soon

keith is like coolcoolcool no doubt no doubt but really cannot stop staring at the door and feeling like he might throw up and is his hair okay he didn't really think about this before he showed up, hasn't even seen it in actually days because he's had the suit on, and the suit is DUMB what the fUcK--

they get approached by other diplomats from various coalition planets and allura turns on the schmooze

keith checks his touchpad--there are three messages from lance

"SORRY BABE RUNNIGN LATE"

"c u so SOON :3 <33333333"

"*RUNNING"

" :D "

[piggycyberwarrior]

Alone without you //HC

Summary: Lance x fem!Reader; Keith x fem!Reader What happens when the Paladins had to leave their s/o and see them years later on earth again?

a/n: here is a reminder that I love youuu!! Also my friend requested this sooo lets gooo

warnings: Lance is a little bit OCC, No proof read

Lance: 

Okayyy so we all saw that Lance was very homesick, am I right?

He missed his family and of course his S/o. 

You were the best thing that happened to him

when he felt like the fifth wheel, he wanted to be in your arms again

my poor bby

He never gave up hope coming back to you

But then stupid slav told him the percentage chance his girlfriend probably has someone else since she thinks he's dead

That shattered his whole world

He thought all the time: do you have someone else, why should you wait for him

his self-esteem was in the basement. way down deep.

 As the years went by, the pain became a little more bearable. His broken heart was covered with fake smiles

when he was on his way to earth with the others, he was nervous. he hadn't even said goodbye. would you still accept him? 

Please do it, my heart 😭 

you in turn had hope again since holt came back to earth. but now it's about war. 

you as a medic had to rescue injured people. that was your job at the garrison. you had to accompany dying people day and night. had to comfort families.(poor you)

when the paladins finally arrived with the alien ship, you went straight for Lance. but you couldn't go to him as he had to go straight to a meeting 

(again poor you)  

when the meeting was finally over, he saw you. his eyes wide open. tears in them 

„Y-Y/n" he stuttered with a shaky voice. immediately you hugged him "i missed you, you idiot" you whispered into his shoulder. 

All these years he was afraid that you had left him, but you waited for him. He didn't deserve you.

Now he was tearing up again but dont let him know I said that..-

lance buried his head in your neck "i missed you too y/n" 

He definitely had to spend this day with you. 

And all the other days 

And the rest of his life. 

Keith:

Soooo..

Keith is a "tough" guy who is kind of, well brash with everyone. 

Shiro had tried for a long time to get that out of his thick skull but without results.

So when THE Keith got a girlfriend, Shiro couldn't believe it at first.

You made Keith weak - the man could see that very clearly.

So he also saw the gentler Keith turn back into the old Keith when they were all together in space.

The mullet head seemed to miss you, even if he didn't show it. 

Shiro tried to talk to him about it, but he didn't go in for that kind of talk.

He could hardly hide his happiness when the earth was in sight again. cough cough The right one this time..😶

will you notice that he has grown? Would you be happy to see him again? He was sure you'll like Kosmo. No, didn't you have an allergy to dogs? Well, Kosmo was a space wolf after all...

he thought as he flew with the others into the milky way

Panic spread across his face when he saw what the Galra had done to the people on Earth.

You weren't a cadet on the garrison, were you dead? Or captured?

Just like Hunk, he wanted to find his family- you

At some point, a radio message reached Garrison. A faint voice announced that many people were being held as slaves in a Galra cruiser. They had to build devices and their schematics.

Keith would have recognized the voice anywhere. It was yours. Immediately he wanted to start a rescue maneuver

But! Of course, the commissioner first had to have more information from the unknown voice.

mhmp! I dont like her

you had actually managed to build a communicator, clever you

At some point, the Paladins were allowed to go on the rescue mission!!!! Yayyyy

It was loud and many screams of frightened people. 

you yourself crouched in your cell and waited for the Garrison to arrive, not knowing that your boyfriend was back on earth.

When your cell opened, you tried to squeeze yourself even further into the corner

"y/n?" whispered a familiar voice. You slowly looked up. Your eyes grew wide in shock. 

“Keith?” you said with a hoarse voice

Quickly he ran towards you and crouched in front of you. Thick tears ran from your still shocked face. 

"You, you...how- what?! you're missed! Why are you here! I-"

You stumbled over your words

“Shhh. Shh I’m here Y/n. You are fine, I’m here muffin.” He said lovingly squishing your cheeks.

I know it's a lot. I'll explain when we get out of here. Oh god I missed you." he said as he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“I missed you too.”

[quintessenceofdust73]

Colleen had spent the last several minutes arranging the small, brightly wrapped packages on the dining table in the Holts’ private suite onboard the Atlas. This wasn’t exactly where she expected to celebrate her daughter’s eighteenth birthday. Colleen never could have imagined that her youngest child would have been fighting in an intergalactic war at such an age, or that Colleen herself would be out in space with the rest of their little family instead of planning a quiet little party at their home.

She placed the smallest of the packages on top of the stack of colorful boxes. It was wrapped in bright blue paper and tied with a green ribbon. Curious, Colleen glanced at the card. It read “With Love, From Lance.” She smiled to herself, wondering what the gift could be. She knew Katie loved all of the other Paladins like older siblings, but with Lance things had been different. She always sat close to him at meetings and at mealtimes. She blushed when Lance complimented her and pouted when her father set a curfew on her late night video gaming sessions with him. ”Leave the door to your quarters open when that boy is here,” her husband had insisted.

Boy? She thought. No, he was a young man, Lance was nearly twenty, and was of an age to have a more serious view of dating and relationships.

More than once Colleen had noticed that Lance had casually slipped one of his long arms around her daughter’s slight shoulders when the Paladins gathered with her family to have a movie night. She also noticed that Katie wrapped her arms around Lance, clinging to him and affectionately nuzzling his chest, a gesture that always made him smile and draw her even closer to him.

Colleen had always thought they were cute together and had hoped for the longest time that their friendship would blossom into something more. She smiled at the recollection of how Lance had won a stuffed Green Lion for her when they went to the Clear Day carnival together. Katie cuddled with it every night, falling asleep with it in her arms.

Sam, on the other hand, wondered what his daughter saw in the boy.

“He’s not as smart as Hunk,” Sam had observed after Katie had gone to bed one evening. “Why would she like a boy who isn’t even close to being her intellectual equal?”

“Shh! She’ll hear you,” Colleen whispered.

”She’s asleep,” Sam replied. “I still think that she and Hunk would make a good match though. He’s a very bright young man—“

“Who’s in love with a very sweet Balmeran girl,” Colleen reminded him. “Katie has told me things about Lance. Did you know that he nearly got himself killed while saving Coran from an explosion? Lance was practically comatose from his injuries, but he woke up momentarily just to take a shot at Sendak when he was trying to hurt our daughter. Did you know about that?” Sam shook his head. “Did she tell you what Lance did when they were captured by Galra Pirates? Those fiends wanted to torture our child, but Lance wouldn’t allow them to come anywhere near her, so they gave him a good thrashing instead.” Colleen stood with her hands on her hips, as if daring Sam criticize Lance for his heroics.

”No,” Sam paused to consider this new information. “She didn’t tell me about any of that.” He didn’t comment on their daughter’s choice of boyfriends any further, but Colleen was still half-convinced that Sam still believed that no one was good enough for their little girl. Not wanting an argument, Sam changed the subject to what Matt had been doing on his latest missions with the Rebels.

Their son was, at the moment, far away from this sector, fighting in a battle in a distant solar system whose name Colleen couldn’t even pronounce.

So much of their time together as a family had been cut short by the apparent tragedy that had befallen Sam and Matt on the Kerberos mission. The grief she experienced at their mysterious disappearance consumed her, then was multiplied when Katie ran away from home to join the Garrison under a false identity. She later found out that her daughter and her friends had been abducted by a sentient spaceship and taken through a wormhole to the other end of the universe. Her only daughter was lost among the stars for three years, and when Katie finally returned home, Colleen could barely recognize her. Her long hair was shorn, her beauty concealed by the disguise of her brother’s old round spectacles. Most shocking of all, she was clad in the hard shell of some high-tech armored alien spacesuit. Although she had returned home physically unharmed, Colleen knew her the little girl she had raised was gone forever.

Every time she watched Katie fall asleep in her narrow bunk, she could momentarily forget that her daughter was a confident young woman who was, among other things, a Paladin, a scientist, and a veteran of far too many battles in the endless war that had been tearing the universe apart centuries before she had been born. Losing this war might mean the end of humanity’s freedom and possibly its very existence. Of course, they weren’t just fighting for Earth’s freedom, but for the liberation of all of the sentient beings that the Galra Empire had enslaved over the last ten thousand years. Defeating Honerva was all any of them could think about these days.

And here she was, making preparations for her youngest child’s birthday party. Colleen sat down at the table and covered her mouth to stifle a sob. But there was no one around to hear it. Sam and Katie had already departed for the mission briefing. She let the tears flow only when she was alone. Then, in order to face the day, she straightened her uniform and donned the steely facade of the brave officer and loyal crew member that she had to present herself as. She wiped the corners of her eyes and hastily departed for the main conference chamber.

[Pidge’s 18th birthday doesn’t go as planned in this fic. This is an excerpt from chapter 2 of one of the best multi chapter fics that I have ever written. Angst, drama, space battles, sword fights, friendship, loyalty, courage, humor, romance, and an epic conclusion with a satisfying epilogue. What are you waiting for? Go read it! ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31663769?view_full_work=true

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith is well and completely aware that his boyfriend is, objectively, a bad bitch.

He’s seen him shoot through the crook of someone’s arm to disable an entire warship. He’s seen him wink and brush by seasoned Blade and send them stumbling. He’s seen him choke someone out with his legs alone. (He’s been choked out by Lance legs. Several times. He’s even instigated that happening.)

But one thing Lance is before anything else; before he is a paladin, before he is a friend, before he is a badass, before he is anything, he is a complainer.

“You never take me anywhere,” he is fond of whining, as if they are not on a floating hunk of metal and polymer in dead space at all times. Or getting shot at. They are in the equivalent of the cross-Atlantic highway at three in the morning in a century old car that breaks down every two hundred miles like clockwork, and also sometimes they just get bombed out of nowhere. That is their life.

We never do anything, he says. Bah. Sometimes he thinks he is going to scoop his boyfriend up and — throw him at something.

But he knows that would never. Not really. As much as Lance drives him batty (and he does drive him fucking batty — he’s been huffy at Keith for a week because Keith didn’t listen to him on a mission, in a dream, and died. He has had an attitude for six days), he really and truly loves Lance more than anything. He loves the way Lance snorts when he laughs and trips over his own two feet more often than not and talks in his sleep and forgets English words and shrugs about it. He loves the magnitude of Lance’s smile and the endless brown of his eyes and the way he always kisses Keith’s clavicle before bed and doesn’t know he does it. He loves the way Lance leans into him without thinking when they sit next to each other and holds his hand when they walk. He loves how Lance fights for a way to meet his eyes when missions go to shit and asks him what to do next just to help Keith focus on something. He loves the way that his jacket was mysteriously fixed the time the old thing wore a hole along the seams and Lance played dumb about it like it could have been anyone else. He loves the way Lance coos over every animal they stumble across, no matter how horrifying, the way he cries his eyes out at every single movie and smacks anyone who looks at him. He loves the way Lance’s entire person always just seems to bubble out of him, like he’s holding his bleeding heart with open fingers.

Keith loves him in a way he didn’t think he deserved. And so it bugs him, really, that he can’t take Lance places, can’t buy him every ugly flower he wants or take him to hole-in-the-wall clubs to dance like Keith knows he wants to or even just go to the space mall with him.

Floating junkmobile in space or not, Keith is going to treat him or die trying. He is.

“So we’re not even close to something with gravity?” Keith clarifies, perhaps a touch desperate.

“Farther than your brain can conceptualise to even an asteroid,” Coran confirms, with no subtle amount of amusement.

Keith purses his lips. “Could we, like…travel there?”

Coran holds his gaze for a moment, eyebrow raised, then returns to the medical supplies he was sorting through.

“I’m afraid not, dear.”

“Why not?”

“I’m quite fond of not getting ambushed.”

“What if you just dropped me off? Then you can go back to not getting ambushed.”

“No.”

“I’ll keep my comm on! For real this time! Just a couple vargas.”

“Unfortunately not, Number Three.”

“Please?”

Keith does his best to widen his eyes the way Lance does it when he’s trying and succeeding at getting his way. He somehow dilates his pupils on command, which Keith doesn’t know how to do, but he figures he can most certainly try. Coran likes him, anyway. He said so.

“Child.” Look of amusement still slotted firmly on his face, and also somehow sporting a piece of wizened reading glasses that he was not wearing three seconds ago, Coran carefully sets down the equipment he’s holding, standing to walk over to Keith. He places a hand on Keith’s shoulder and leans in. “I am not dropping off one of the leaders of Voltron alone on a swap moon for a ‘couple vargas’. You understand why.”

Keith sighs petulantly. “I would get super murdered.”

Coran hums. “You would get super murdered, yes.”

He claps Keith’s back heartily, nearly sending Keith sprawling, then turns back to his sorting. Keith waits til his back is turned to silently and dramatically fall to his knees and mime screaming like Troy Bolton in the third High School Musical Movie (Shiro has too much of an influence on him). He had really hoped Coran would magically have a solution.

“Although,” Coran says, making Keith jump and scramble to his feet (thank every deity to ever exist that Coran keeps his back turned or Keith would crumble to humiliated dust), “if you’re looking for a change of scenery for whatever reason, there are lots of secluded places in the castle.”

Keith flushes red. He knows that’s not how Coran means it — only Hunk knows about them, having magically been able to keep his mouth shut after the whole found-your-lion debacle — but he can’t help where his mind goes, and he’s standing in front of someone who is for all intents and purposes his father, basically, or at least one of them, and it’s horrible and embarrassing and the worst. Imagining that in front of Coran, who once cried and told him he’s just so proud of the man he’s becoming, is just — no. He can’t handle having a father figure again. He’s going back to being a sad orphan.

Well. No.

Whatever.

“Okay bye Coran,” he says loudly and tellingly, practically sprinting out of the room in mortification. He considers ducking into his room to see if Lance is there, but he knows Lance will ask what’s up, and the idea of explaining to him and then hearing him laugh himself to tears adds a beautifully shiny cherry to his sundae of suffering and he decides otherwise.

He ducks instead into the kitchen, hoping it’ll be empty at this time so he can eat his feelings away, but of course that’s not the case. Hunk stands with his hands on his hips at a counter, knife clenched in his right hand, glaring at what Keith hopes is a vegetable of some kind.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk calls, slowly moving his knife so as to not startle the vegetable.

The vegetable twitches. Keith pretends it doesn’t, choosing to ignore its existence and hoisting himself up to sit on the counter while Hunk is too distracted to stop him.

“I have a dilemma,” he whines when Hunk fails to ask further questions.

“You and Lance are slowly morphing into the same person,” Hunk comments idly. “I have to deal with two of you now. It’s exhausting. Go back to hating each other.”

Keith smiles. “No.”

“Ugh.” He makes a sudden move towards the nightmare vegetable and it panics, throwing itself off the counter in sad vegetable suicide and splatters on the floor. Hunk sighs for a very long time, then reaches for a rag. “Tell me about your dilemma then, catboy. I am looking forward to clowning you.”

“I need to take Lance on a date,” Keith says. “An amazing one.” He tries to be cool and normal for three seconds before remembering that Hunk caught them making out on a moon when they still pretended to hate each other and knows there is no worse shame. “One that is worthy of him, you know? I want him to feel treasured.”

Hunk raises his eyebrows. “Take him to the space mall to commit crimes again. He loves doing that.”

“Coran said no.”

“Observation deck?”

“Makes him sad.”

“Pool?”

Keith tilts his head to the side, considering. “Well, maybe. But we do that all the time. Plus anyone could just walk in on us.”

Hunk groans loudly, chucking the dirty rag at Keith’s face. Keith manages to dodge but only barely.

“You two and your stupid sneaky shit. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to cover for you two so you can giggle about your secrets?”

Keith grins guiltily. “Love you, Hunk.”

“Shut up. I hate you. When everyone finds out I’m going to point and laugh. I don’t even understand why you bother.”

Keith shrugs, twisting the rag sound his fingers. “It’s not…” He sighs. Hunk must sense the shift in the air, because he stops what he’s doing and hoists himself up next to Keith, even though he hates it when people sit on the counter, and leans against him. Keith shoots him a small, grateful smile.

“There’s something special when it’s just the two of us, I guess. Like being in our own little blanket fort. The lighting’s low and every sound feels muffled and it’s hard to breathe and everything else fades, for a bit.”

Keith doesn’t know how else to describe it. His Pa used to build him blanket forts, when he was really little, and he would stay in there until it collapsed on top of him. The same safe feeling settles in his chest when he lies in bed with Lance, when they stand back to back in battle, when they’re as closely pressed together as they can be. Like he’s wrapped in blankets and floating on air.

“Do that, then,” Hunk says softly. He grabs Keith’s hand and squeezes it softly. “Lance loves you, dude. He just wants to spend time with you. He complains because of who he is as a person, but he doesn’t…he swoons about you, man. It’s honestly kind of embarrassing.”

“It is, isn’t it.”

For all of his poking and whining, Lance was the one to move his stuff into Keith’s room. It was Lance who pulled him in with a smirk when Keith knocked on that door, asking what they were next. Lance who pulls him back under the covers in the morning and peppers kisses to his skin, Lance to whisper their first I-love-you, fast and near silent like a gasping inhale, Lance who thought Keith was asleep when he whispered you make me happy like no one else into his hair.

Lance wants him. Plain and simple. In whatever way they have, floating piece of junk or not.

“You got something?” Hunk murmurs.

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. He smiles at his friend, eyes crinkling when he grins right back. “Yeah, I got something.”

He thinks about blanket forts and low lighting and feeling like floating. He thinks about the first time they were ever a team on the castle. He thinks about all the picnic dates in all the romcoms Lance makes him watch.

Suddenly he can’t sit still for another moment. His blood feels like it’s buzzing, and his fingers twitch. He has an idea and if he doesn’t implement it immediately he’s gonna die.

“Get out of here,” Hunk says tiredly, shaking his head in amusement. “You stress me out. Go bother Lance.”

Keith presses a smacking kiss on his cheek because he is, at the core of him, annoying. The action startles a laugh out of him, because at the core of him, Hunk is not nearly as much of hater as he pretends to be.

“Bye Hunk! Love you!”

He runs out of the room to Hunk’s rolled eyes and his own wide grin, heading straight for the pool — he’s got some prep to do.

———

He’s shifty the whole day and he knows it. Lance knows it too, based on the narrowed, judgemental eyes, long, considering glare, and the way he flicks Keith on the forehead mid-spar and says “You’re being shifty, weirdo.”

Keith grabs his hand and kisses it just to make Lance smile on reflex and then scowl about smiling when he’s trying to be mad. It’s all very predictable and amusing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says lightly. He even pitches his voice to sound more innocent and everything, just like Adam taught him.

“Ugh,” Lance responds.

They go back to sparring, and Keith can’t keep the smile off his face for the life of him. He’s just — so excited. He can’t wait. (And, also, his refusal to answer Lance’s questions is visibly pissing him off, and that’s always fun.) He makes an excuse after a couple hours, kissing Lance loudly and obnoxiously on the cheek before running off, leaving him in the training room and circling the castle three times to make sure he’s not being followed before ducking into the kitchen. As Hunk had promised yesterday when Keith had explained his plan, there are dozens of supplies laid out on the counter and a detailed instruction manual. Keith makes a mental note to clean Hunk’s tools until they are shining in thanks.

Keith, says a pink post-it note on the manual, you’re a whipped loser. Love, Hunk.

Keith grins, folding up the note and tucking it in his pocket. He takes inventory of the supplies, making a special note of the weirdo lump shaped fruit that Keith knows taste like strawberries, that Lance is obsessed with and Hunk often has to literally claw out of his hands when they’re on ship so that Lance doesn’t eat them all. (Actually, now he just puts a lock on the fridge. It’s a problem. Lance loves those strawberries more than Keith, probably.)

Confident that Hunk will keep Lance distracted and praying that no one comes into the kitchen and asks him what the hell he’s doing, Keith gets started. He chops up vegetables, whisks up batters, cuts sandwiches into cool shapes (a sword, Mothman, and an elaborate brachiosaurus) for three straight hours, tucking everything away into a basket and then into the very back corner of the fridge and hiding it behind a case of soda that no one but Keith likes. He barely manages to finish cleaning up the kitchen by the time Shiro and Pidge stroll into the room to get dinner, and both of them eye him suspiciously.

“You’re early,” Pidge says, eyebrows raised.

“You’re never early,” Shiro adds. “I usually have to go send someone to drag you.”

“I’m hungry,” Keith says primly. He’s not, really, since he’s been snacking on stuff as he’s been cooking, but he marches over to the goo machine and squirts himself a bowl anyway. He’ll pull a Lance and feed half of it to the mice, it’ll be fine.

The rest of the team files in a few minutes later; Allura with her hair stuck up in a million places and her nose nearly pressed to her tablet, Coran guiding her by the shoulders so she doesn’t walk right into the counter (again); Hunk and Lance side by side, Lance aggressively swinging their joined hands.

“Hello!” he announces loudly to the room, and it says something about him that every single one of them smiles on reflex, saying hi back.

Lance takes his usual spot next to Keith, Shiro on his other side, Hunk across from them. Under the table, Keith links their ankles together, because no one will look for it and every time it makes a pleased flush grow on the back of Lance’s neck.

“Guess what,” Lance says twenty seconds into a comfortable silence because nothing makes Lance squirm like not talking for ten seconds.

Allura sets her tablet down because she is nosey. “What?”

“I beat Keith at sparring today. Twice,” Lance brags.

Keith scowls at his goo. That’s true, but only because he fought dirty. Keith had him pinned and Lance kissed him, and what was Keith supposed to do, shrug that off? Unlikely. And unrealistic. It’s not like Lance is going to be doing that to fight enemies.

Well. He better not.

“Because you cheated,” Keith mutters.

“Nope, nuh uh, didn’t happen. You are just old and grey and losing your abilities.”

“I’m barely one year older than you!” Keith cries.

Lance smirks. “Elderly, basically. Geriatric. I went easy on you today because I was worried about your knees.”

“Oh, you fucking —”

“Boys,” Shiro interrupts sharply.

They both jump.

“One meal,” the Black Paladin sighs, hand sliding down his face. “Just — one fucking meal, where you two don’t fight.”

“I don’t get it,” Pidge comments, irritated furrow to her brows. “You guys hang out, like, all the time. You’d think you’d be able to talk without jabbing at each other.”

“I think they’re just weirdos,” Hunk says flatly looking at them with a very pointed expression. “I think they just enjoy going at each other. Like weirdos.”

Beside him, Lance averts his eyes, biting his lip to hold back laughter. Keith looks away so he doesn’t have to do the same.

“Sorry, Shiro,” Keith says, working hard to keep his tone neutral. “I’ll do my best to not rise to Lance’s bait.”

“And I’ll try really hard to be okay with stinky mullet’s presence as a whole,” Lance promises.

Shiro only shakes his head and sighs harder. Keith reaches over and pinches his boyfriend’s thigh in revenge.

After dinner, and an aggravated pinching contest that ends with them straight up brawling beside the table and the team looking like they wanted to pelt food good at them, they wait for everyone else to head out to the common room before making their way down to their rooms.

“We’re not joining everyone else?” Lance questions, looking pointedly at their joined hands, blatant as they are in the hallway.

Keith hums, lifting their joined hands and looping around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Lance stumbles into him, laughing as Keith manages to catch him and keep them both upright.

“Nope,” Keith says, smiling into his hair. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively — God, he really is becoming Lance. “They’re all tired of us, I think. Perfect opportunity for us to have some time without any interruptions, I was thinking.”

Lance grins. “Sounds good to me.”

The stumble into their room giggling.

———

Hours later, Lance is half asleep on his chest, and Keith traces lazy shapes onto his back. The hallways are quiet, even if he strains his ears. The only thing he can hear is Lance’s even breathing, and the steady thud of his heartbeat. He checks his watch — ten thirty. Everyone else is asleep or close to it.

It’s time, he thinks.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, lips pressed to Lance’s hair. “Wake up.”

“‘M not asleep.”

“Good.” Keith shifts slightly, forcing Lance’s head to move, which earns him a sharp smack on the arm. He grabs Lance’s wrists and holds it there, rubbing a thumb on the palm of his hands. “Up you get.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Lance.”

Lance groans loudly. “I am comfortable,” he laments. “Your tiddies are comfortable. I’m not moving, Pillow. Lie down in silence and be grateful you have the honour of sleeping with me. I’m a delight.”

Keith snorts, but doesn’t back down. “Get up or I tip you over.”

“Yeah, right.” Lance settles right back in, confident in the knowledge that Keith would do nothing of the sort.

Well, he’s wrong.

Careful to tuck his hand over the back of Lance’s head and neck, Keith flips them over at whip speeds, sending them sprawling over the side of the bed and onto the floor in a heap of skewed blankets and flailing limbs.

“You’re such a butthead!” Lance shrieks, smacking him repeatedly on the chest. Keith once again grabs both his wrists and holds tight, pinning him to the floor with his own body weight. He knows Lance isn’t really mad because he hardly puts up a struggle.

“I love you,” Keith says in response, leaning over to peck his boyfriend smack between the eyes. Lance huffs, grinning. “Come on. We’re going somewhere.”

“Ugh,” Lance groans again, but he grabs the hand Keith offers and pulls himself up anyway. He mutters derisively the entire time he gets dressed, but Keith wisely decides not to push it. “Let’s go, dingus. You better be bringing me to a five-star restaurant and then hotel.”

Keith bites back a grin. He knows his line.

“And where the fresh hell am I meant to find that, bastard?” he responds dutifully, wrapping his arm around Lance’s waist and tucking a hand into his back pocket as they walk.

Lance smiles coyly, leaning into him. “That sounds like a you problem.”

Keith rolls his eyes, smiling. “C’mon. We gotta stop in the kitchen first.”

Ignoring Lance’s pestering questions, which is one of his favourite hobbies, Keith steers them towards the fridge and grabs the basket he prepared, tucking it under his arm before Lance can steal it to look.

“If you peek I’m tossing it in the incinerator,” Keith warns.

Lance pouts. “That’s biphobic.”

“You’ll live.”

“Nope. I just found out the love of my life doesn’t accept me for who I am. I’ll try to choke it down, try to get over it, but it’ll eat me alive. Every night after you fall asleep I’ll cry until I pass out. Resentment will build. Eventually I’ll start turning away every time you kiss me. And then we’ll fight, and I will be too heartbroken to defend our relationship, and then all will crumble and we’ll be bitter exes until we die. I see it all now.”

“There are actual playwrights that are less dramatic than you,” Keith observes, looking at Lance’s gesturing in amusement. “I’m pretty sure most of them would beg for lessons.”

“They would be lucky as hell to have me.”

“They would be, baby.” He’d aimed for mocking, but his voice comes out fond and gooey and whipped and he knows it. Lance knows it too, judging by the shy little smile he sports, the pleased flush on his cheeks.

“Where are we even going?” he asks, a clear change of subject. “We’ve been walking the halls for ninety years.”

Keith scoffs. “We have not. And we’re going to the pool.”

Lance stops them mid-step, groaning. “Aw, come on! It’s nearly eleven, Keith!”

“And?” Keith asks, tugging him forward. He goes, but not without whining.

“You are the worst pool partner. You never just want to chill and float. Oh, no, it’s gotta be laps, you fuckin’ jock. Fuckin’ — olympic tryhard ass.”

Keith doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter, and through all his groaning Lance is laughing, too, and even when he’s complaining and being ridiculous and mocking Keith, Keith loves him. There’s not a second of the day when Keith doesn’t.

“Just come on,” he says, finally pulling them into the pool. “You’ll like it. I promise.” He holds his hands up to Lance’s eyes, raising a brow in question, then laying his palms over the top of Lance’s face when he isn’t told to stop.

Lance sighs, but he lets himself get manhandled, let’s Keith guide him up the walls like Coran showed them until they’re finally settled at the edge of the pool. Keith sets down the basket, takes a deep breath, and removes his hands from Lance’s face.

“Happy everyday,” he says quietly.

It takes Lance a moment to register the set up in front of him — the giant blow up kiddie pool floating on the real pool, layered in pillows and blankets. The projector on the wall, queueing Lance’s favourite movie — 10 Things I Hate About You, even though Keith can’t stand that movie and never lets it get picked during family movie nights. The soft lighting sending waves of dappled light reflecting all over the room, making the browns of Lance’s eyes shine gold. The scent of chocolate covered strawberries coming from the now-open picnic basket in Keith’s hands.

Lance m, predictably, bursts into tears.

“You — you jerk,” he cries, flinging himself onto Keith, who barely manages to catch him with an oof. “You are — the worst person alive. I despise you.”

Keith grins, setting down to basket to hold Lance in his arms properly, squeezing him as tight has he can, trying to — say, what he feels, with his body alone. Because there aren’t words for it, he doesn’t think, the way Lance is the first person he seeks out in any room he’s in, the way one touch from Lance has the tension melting from his body in bad days. How even when they’re at their worst and screaming in each other’s faces, there’s a voice in Keith’s head three times louder than anger that booms, don’t you dare hurt him. How he hasn’t felt this kind of safe with a person since his Pa; since he was tiny and young and not afraid of the world yet.

“I take it I win this dating thing?” Keith teases, face tucked into the crook of Lance’s neck.

Lance laughs wetly, breath still shuddering and tears still leaking out of his eyes, and turns his head to kiss him slowly, hands pressed to either side of his face.

“You’re a dickhead and I love you more than air,” he says, smile wide and breathtaking. Keith has to bite back to urge to do something insane like ask him to marry him. God. He’s so — hngh. How is Keith supposed to explain. What he is to him.

“C’mon,” Keith says instead of any of that, voice kind of hoarse. He wraps their hands together and pulls them closer to the edge of the pool, kneeling down and reaching out to steady the floatie and holding it as Lance crawls in. He hands him the basket and tumbles in after him, falling onto his chest, and he feels it shame as Lance laughs, quiet and fond, and he knows he won’t be able to move away. So he settles into him and Lance’s hands come up automatically to rest in his hair, and Keith fumbles for the remote and plays the movie and hands him strawberries and watches Kat and Patrick fall in love and thanks anyone who is out there, from every atom in his body, for getting Lance’s dumb ass tied to a tree and having Keith the only one available to save him. And for the magnetism, between them, and the way Keith has never been able to hide himself from him.

“I love you,” Lance whispers as Kat reads her poem, fingers tangled around locks of Keith’s hair. “I mean it. I do.”

Keith turns his head slightly to kiss the inside of his knee, eyes closed, breaths heavy. “I know.” He lets himself bask in it, Lance’s love, and smiles. “I love you, too.”

———

first part

based off this video

[siennablaze219]

@daily-writing-challenge - May 2024 - Day 6 - Confidence

TW: suicide

Art Appreciation

Orialeyne received an invitation to the gallery of Vixyanna Ana’diel, sometimes it was good to be the only daughter of House Daywhisper. The very, very, gracious woman reached out to her cousin, Zubrette Goldensorrow, of course that had nothing to do with the fact that Zub’s uncle Landannis was a very exclusive evening wear designer who always enjoyed dressing his niece and Ori whenever they went anywhere together.

Ebony hair trailed over Ori’s paper white shoulder as she relaxed onto a forest green velvet loveseat in her drawing room and reached out to her cousin, “Hey Zubs! I have an invitation to that gallery showing coming up, want to go with me?”

You could hear the smile on the other woman over her comm device, “I actually got one posted to the house as well, we can meet you there.”

Ori grinned and draped her feet over the end of the loveseat she was on, shifting so her head was partially hanging off the seat, “Oooh do I finally get to meet this hunka burning Dracthyr of yours Zu-brat.”

“Not if you keep talking about him like that and most definitely not if you call me that in front of him! Meet me at Uncle Landannis’ shop next week, I used that old ruby and diamond necklace set you brought me to work up a design with Uncle Dannis that you will love. I am still so amazed that you have so much jewelry from your great great aunt that you want repurposed. Guess it keeps me busy when I am not on campaign though.”

Orialeyne stretched her fingers out looking at the holographic nail polish she just had done at the salon, “How you ever got your short stack self hired on to stand behind a shield and fight whatever threat our world faces day to day is beyond me. I have seen you, you can barely see over your shield.”

“Bitch, please, you know I draw attention like no one in Azeroth except you. Now shut up and let me get back to work. Dannis has five orders for dresses for women going to this art showing and he wants jeweled collars for two of them. Some days I miss doing my twisted wire designs.” Zubrette sighed dramatically.

“They didn’t pay nearly as well as he does for you to make the bobbles he attaches to his gowns. You should just retire and stay in Silvermoon full time again.” There was a hint of pleading in Ori’s voice.

Zubrette snorted, “And be that close to mother? Nooo thank you. Can you imagine the fit she is going to have when she finds out I am dating a Dracthyr?”

“I want to be there when you tell her. It will have to be three times as entertaining as when she heard about your Illidari friend and you weren’t even banging him, which is a shame as that man was sin personified.” Ori teased.

The paladin replied almost sharply, “A fact his new Kaldorei boyfriend agrees with I am sure. Anyway, I have to work, we can’t all lay around our houses all day.”

The rich young woman sat up in the loveseat again, “Sorry sweetie, you are both happier this way. I know you two still love one another, but you can’t change what you can’t change.”

“Yep yep! See you next week.”

When they went to the boutique Landanis was an absolute joy to work with, as usual. He and Zubrette had collaborated together and mixed the tiny woman’s jewelry making skills with his design to create an exquisite gown in black. It was studded with red gems that started sparse but then covered the entirety of the bottom of the skirt. The piece Zubrette had made for her was a silver and red jeweled harness worn beneath ithe gown that accented the weight of Ori’s full breasts.A perfect pair of red shoes, a beautiful updo and Ori was ready to meet her cousin and this new man of hers at the show.

Later in the Gallery…

The beautiful dilettante walked through the exhibit, usually she expected attention to be focused on her when she walked through a space, but this time Ori was transfixed by the art to even notice if she turned a stranger’s, or an acquaintance's, head at all. Each and every piece was beautiful, she had purchased two of the pieces and was considering a third for the house she and her cousins lived when the other two weren’t gallivanting off to Fel knew where. Art was a good investment and she tended to replace it every year or two because she got bored of looking at the same things all the time.

A glass of rose champagne dangled between two fingers while she listened to the magical violinist play. The green eyed woman moved at her own pace, ignoring the flow of the crowd around her. While she found it nice to have people to go to these things with, Ori never really needed anyone else to feel comfortable. She was an exceptionally confident person, some might say too confident, who had been attending large social events with her family, and sometimes on her own, since she was a young child.

“Orialeyne!” A voice as warm as a single malt scotch cried out and she turned to see a white blonde in a bright pink dress waving at her from a group of about six other women. Ori stood her ground and they moved to her, all smiling and chatting amongst themselves. Sylensria Cy’alaeth dipped her head to brush Ori’s cheek with a barely there kiss that would not smudge her lipstick. “Can you believe all this? It is so dark…”

Ori looked back up at the painting she was considering adding to her collection and said, “I think they are hauntingly beautiful.”

Sylen placed a hand on the curvy woman’s shoulder, “Oh yes, of course it is beautiful, of course. I heard that Vaerenssa bought a piece from the artist, she said the showings are amazing but the after party is where it is at.”

One of the other women chuckled, “I always love attending for that alone. Well worth dropping the right word here and there to get invited. Speaking of the right people to get invited, how did your cousin manage to get in? Riding your coattails again? We saw her with this devastatingly handsome Dracthyr.”

“Her House was sent an invitation,” Ori said with a look that said she cared little about the other woman’s question. “I have not seen her here yet, but I knew she was bringing her boyfriend.”

“Oh yes,” the woman, Loraldina Hajirina-Lightfame, commented, “that is why she got invited. Her uncle never wants to attend these things and see his fashions sparkle in the light he creates them for.”

Taking a sip of her champagne with a small smirk, “Yes well, that sparkle comes from Zubrette’s shop now, she works almost exclusively making pieces for his gowns.”

Loraldina smiled haughtily, “A shop, yes, well I suppose she has to do what work she can with the disgrace and all. Last I heard they almost had to sell the estate because they were so poor. The sweet child, it must have been so tragic for her, losing her money and losing her brothers too, they were all so gorgeous, what a waste.” That smile was turned on another woman in the group, “Your aunt Eaamaie was married to the oldest brother, Estian, isn’t that right? It must have been awful having found him after the tragedy.”

“Ohhh,speaking of tragedies.” Sylen said and leaned into the group pretending to speak quietly, just a bunch of good friends gossiping as women do, “did you hear that the Emberring estate got robbed during their luncheon last week?”

Yes, that’s right make the transition right from Ori’s cousin committing suicide over losing his family’s fortune because he was trying to keep his wife ‘in a manner in which she had become accustomed to’ then the other brothers following Kael’thas to their deaths.

A towering redhead with freckles sprinkled across her nose and her chest, Ji’alothixne ‘Jinxie’, chimed in, “I bet it is that same daring thief that has been sneaking into places during parties and stealing all the jewelry. That makes six this year already, and at least twenty-five in the past two. Who knows how many before that.”

“Well, I know I am hiring extra security for my welcome to summer ball next week. Can’t take too many chances these days,” Loraldina said then looked to Ori, “Oh please tell me you’ll come.”

Ori took in the ropes of diamonds looped around the woman’s neck and smiled in a cat that swallowed the canary impersonation, “Oh I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

@vixannya

[recalcitrantlycaffeinated]

DND, session -1

We start our tale before the first session truly begins...for we must start our tale with the person who invited me to play DND (5E) this summer.

Imagine the most hapless person you have ever known. The MOST persecuted character you have ever seen; things never go right for him. This HAS to be pre-ordained, or some kind of biological accident never before befalling the children of Adam and Eve.

That's my friend Miles (not his real name). We went to college together 15 years ago, where I and my boyfriend at the time used to hide from him during lunch because we did not have the emotional bandwidth to hear another story about his car getting hit by a snowplow five minutes before the school canceled classes, or the floor collapsing at a concert he attended, or his keys breaking off just as he was trying to open his trunk (where his only other pair of keys happened to be). A couple years after I graduated, I spent a weird few weeks as impromptu assistant editor on his documentary when they were so entrenched they needed a few outside people to weigh in, and during the pandemic we started talking more often. We debate Anglicanism vs Roman Catholicism on the reg, and I still get to hear improbable stories of the worst bad luck ever at least weekly.

The next character in this story is one of Miles' childhood friends that I met while working on the movie. Who just happens to be one of the priests at my parish. He's the one who is (ostensibly) running this summer campaign. He is NOT fighting off some kind of ancient curse, but if you told me he was a time traveler from some earlier pre-technology time where they did metal forging things and didn't use proper calendars, I would believe you without question.

Of course, when you combine propensity for disaster with aversion to any useful modern tools used for planning things cooperatively, you end up with a session 0 where the DM cannot even be there because he forgot about a parish commitment, and where Miles has to player DM a session based on two handwritten pages of inscrutable notes given 24 hours ahead of time (he did not even have a physical copy of the handbook).

As if this was not complicated enough, I then had to bring my four year old to the session with me when my husband got called in to restore power after the recent storm. Given 12 hours' notice for this, I taught her how to use headphones and hyped her up for grown up game night, while Miles downloaded copies of Mary Poppins and Winnie the Pooh to a USB stick (note: both these files ended up being broken in different, inexplicable ways...because of course they were).

We were joined by one of Miles' friends (and a frequent player in the games he DMs) and her not-quite-teenager, who had never really played DND before, and had grown really attached to their character to the point that they were terrified of it dying.

The final player at this session was the husband of one of Miles' parish priests.

We had originally built a party with three rogues, because we thought this was marvelously funny, but the final count is one multiclassing cleric/rogue named Seamus, one swashbuckling rogue named Traps (me!), and one fighter named Xander. Rounding out with the non-rogues, we've got an assassin bard elf drow named Hex, and a paladin whose name I promptly forgot for Character Reasons.

Oh, you thought I was going to make a whole new character that allows me to Grow and Improve at Role Playing? WRONGGGGG!! Everybody, welcome to the return of Samuel, my favorite idiot charisma boy archetype. Except in this version of the multiverse the ships are in space instead of on the ocean and there are at least 800 fewer rules about how they work so I am going to be able to explore the universe unencumbered by rules about Exhaustion and Rum is Bad For You Actually. Everyone should maybe be afraid of how this is going to go.

[thuranni]

Elio is @actionsurges' oc: elio eclissi paladin of all time. bahamut's scion. is a redemption paladin with an executioner's greatsword. his holy symbol is a locket with a picture of him and his twin sister. he has a fruity little earring. his arc is about learning to become who HE wants to be not to be who he is SUPPOSED to be. his sister is hot and evil and he's going to love her until she loves herself.

Sigrun is @criticalrolo's oc: Sigrun, human rogue/paladin, went on a permanent camping trip with her dad, got dropped off with her mom the war-lord for the rest of her childhood, made a deal to get Vengeance for the Old Gods in exchange for her life, got a boyfriend and girlfriend and a Monster Hunting Job but then lost them in a portal :( smites with soulblade hand axes and has a horse familiar named Daisy ❤️

Taber is @ice-knife's oc: Taber my darling my blorbo. Taber Lamburn is a trans lady tiefing redemption paladin/fighter, devoted to Ilmater. She was sold by her own family into indentured servitude because they thought she was cursed. They were right, she is, but that doesn't make it fair. She got out herself and has since been trying to figure out who she is and put some good back into the world. She's 6'10" at the top of her head and fights with an axe. One time four separate people were telling her to take a damn break, including her weapon. She's cried in front of Ilmater himself at least three times. Her party uses her as a personal space heater/pre-warmed air mattress. She's recently gotten into her first ever disagreement with her childhood best friend, and she survived! She's even fantasy French!

[je-suis-problematique]

Our Tavs so far:

Val (Valeryan) — Our very first Tav. They're an AFAB nonbinary half-elf half-drow from the Underdark, technically a rape child since their elf mother was enslaved by their drow father. They escaped the Underdark and fashioned themself a life as a ranger, sticking to the wilderness and avoiding civilization whenever possible. They get along with animals better than they ever got along with people and they behave much like a cornered animal themself, having no idea how to go on about acting normal during human interactions. They are paired with both Astarion and Wyll.

Ragnar Curran — A human paladin with a soldier's background. Not much thought went into Ragnar honestly, we simply wanted a male paladin to pair with Shadowheart but some Prime Bullshit™ happened during his playthrough that fleshed his character out a little more, in our perception of him at least. He is a hardened veteran with a soft side and a strong moral compass, which is ironic considering he accidentally ended up becoming an Oathbreaker, but he will do what must be done even if it contradicts his own personal wants and needs. As mentioned before he is paired with Shadowheart but he also yearns for Gale, believe it or not. That magical moment they shared together stirred something in Ragnar.

Mara Kilani — A Lolth-sworn female drow cleric whose main tactic for getting out of sticky situations is to bully her way out and if THAT doesn't work, fight to the death. Seriously, Mara is not known for her kindness or empathy, which I'm pretty sure she lacks, and her intimidation proficiency proved useful more than once. She'll help people only if she has something to gain from it and she will say the meanest things, not even TRYING to comfort whoever it is she's talking to that's upset. Survival of the fittest is the name of the game and the weak get devoured by the strong, that's all she's ever known. And still.... After a while of traveling with the others she learned to soften up, at least sometimes. Despite that though she chose to complete ceremorphosis and become illithid, partnering up with the Emperor. She slept with Lae'zel and flirted with Wyll but ultimately ended up being paired up with Minthara.

Vesemir Amastacia — A high half-elf bard who is hanging to life by a thread, literally. He lived a privileged life in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate but ultimately escaped it to pursue a career in music. He got into all sorts of trouble and even died once, but was brought back to life by @rjshepherd's OC Lamb due to the circumstances of his death being hilarious. He is chaos incarnate, fucking his way in and out of various situations, making questionable life choices, going into battle high on drugs, casting Fireball in spaces that aren't big enough to accommodate the sheer destructiveness of the spell and even licking dead spiders, not to mention getting some allies killed "on accident". All in all though he has a heart of gold beneath the careless bravado he puts on and he truly does love those he grew close to, namely Lamb and Astarion (the latter of whom he is dating).... Even if he plays with their blood pressure like a yo-yo on a daily basis.

Mikhail Talfen — A male Asmodean tiefling sorcerer who is the greenest flag to ever walk the grounds of Faerûn. He is part of the Society of Brilliance, studying sociology and psychology, and earns his living from basically being a clinical psychotherapist for those who seek his help. He is quite knowledgeable in alchemy as well so medications? He's got those too. When we created Mikhail we wanted a character who could help everyone else get their shit together and that's how Mikhail happened. He is kind, compassionate, empathetic, protective, and we gave him the buff body type so you know he gives great hugs too. His story is still largely incomplete but we know that he's paired with Gale (even though Lae'zel had her eyes on him) but his pre-tadpole boyfriend was Omeluum.

Cahir Dilossz — Another largely incomplete story but Cahir is a male Seldarine drow rogue and a Bhaalspawn, as in, he is our Dark Urge character. His story incorporates elements from the game series Dishonored, meaning there is a Void and an Outsider and Cahir is Void-touched (basically the Outsider laying claim to Bhaal's precious son) and accompanied by a Void-born version of @rjshepherd's Lamb because both of us subscribe to the multiverse theory. The general gist of it is that the Void is collapsing so to prevent it from being swallowed by the Shadowfell the Outsider sent Cahir on a mission to retrieve the Crown of Karsus and deliver it to Raphael, whom the Outsider made a deal with. Raphael gets the Crown, Raphael uses its power to restabilize the Void – simple, right? Only not really because the Outsider never gives Cahir any clear details and only speaks in vague riddles and Cahir gets kidnapped by mind flayers to boot. Lamb's whole role in this is to ensure Cahir doesn't stray from the Outsider's plan and does, in fact, deliver the Crown to Raphael, essentially babysitting the murder slut and steering him in the right direction. The main pairing for Cahir is Raphael, but he might end up romancing one of the companions as well, not sure who yet.

Pharo Hyperion — Oh boy.... If you thought CAHIR'S story was a clusterfuck, get ready for this one. Pharo is a simple human male like Ragnar, most likely a fighter in class, and he is a world-renowned monster hunter and mage killer. What makes his story a fucking shitshow is that he isn't from Faerûn at all but rather some parallel universe where everything is modernized, computerized, and Final Fantasy-ized. There's hacking, there's guns, there's fucking flat screens everywhere, you get the picture. The main villain here is this guy named Tarantino who's this super powerful mage who is able to travel between worlds at will INCLUDING all their dimensions. He's a serial killer and an absolute menace to society Pharo's been hunting for years due to some personal vendetta he has against Tarantino, and just when he thinks he's got Tarantino cornered? Bam. Tarantino throws Pharo's ass into Faerûn, Pharo gets kidnapped by mind flayers, Pharo gets tadpoled, and then Pharo gets spat out into the wild with no idea how to survive without his gear, with no way to reach his contacts on his homeworld, and no way to know what Tarantino is up to next. Moreover, there's this stupid sexy tiefling named Rolan who's making him feel all funny. What a predicament indeed.

[Lazarus Sarkis — Lazarus isn't a Tav per se but I thought he'd be worth mentioning since his story is closely tied to Pharo's: Lazarus is a male Lolth-sworn drow artificer who is also a liberated vampire spawn. In Pharo's universe, which implements modern machinery and gunsmithing, Lazarus is an expert craftsman specializing in crafting and upkeeping various firearms and ammo types for Pharo to use. Lazarus chose to stick with Pharo after the latter killed Lazarus' vampire Master, aiding Pharo in whatever way he needed. The two became close friends and, unsurprisingly, Lazarus found a way to follow Pharo to Faerûn after Tarantino banished him there. Lazarus offered his help to the camp while Pharo traveled with them and even became involved with Astarion, bonding with him over their shared affliction.]

Lux Wilk — Lux is actually not the main character of this particular story or rather not the only one. Lux is the twin brother of Nox, both are male and belong to the lupine race which is the closest race in DnD lore that we found to adequately describe what they are, which is essentially just humans with wolf qualities (ears, tails, fangs, and in the brothers' case, also claws). Since the lupines are mostly nomadic in nature we imagined them – or at least the brothers' pack specifically – originating somewhere close to Elturel, even if they weren't part of the city proper. Perhaps they set up some sort of settlement nearby or simply functioned as passing merchants and mercs the Elturelians became familiar with/grew fond of. There is a lot I can say about Lux's relationship with Nox but I'll keep it at that it was tense at best, hostile at worst, and that it was very complicated. After Elturel fell, Lux became separated from his people and was swallowed up by Avernus, unable to find his way back out. He was picked up by a devil named Gazgan who kept him as a pet right until the nautiloid incident, where similar to Karlach, Lux used its breach into Avernus as an opportunity to escape and got tadpoled in the process. Lux's function as Tav is also very similar to Mara's where he is NOT a Dark Urge character but he is undeniably NOT a good person, which absolutely ENRAGES Nox whenever he sees his brother get praised for literally anything (like saving the tieflings for example) because only Nox knows that Lux's compassion is purely performative and always a means to an end. We aren't sure who Lux was paired with during his travels with the tadpole group.

[Nox Wilk — Nox was always treated as second best to his brother Lux because unlike Lux, who batted his eyelashes and always said please and thank you, Nox was a troublemaker who had a major issue with authority since he was a young pup. He bit, he scratched, he destroyed property, he pissed on etiquette and ignored direct orders. While Lux was glorified as the perfect child Nox was always asked why he couldn't be more like Lux, and it infuriated Nox because only he knew that Lux was merely putting on a show to get what he wants and didn't give a rat's ass about anybody's feelings except his own while Nox deeply, DEEPLY cared. After the fall of Elturel Nox ended up escaping with the rest of the refugees, thinking it best that Lux was taken by the Hells. He honestly hoped Lux would never be seen again but after the bastard popped up at the druid grove Nox was beyond furious. He tried to plead with Zevlor not to trust Lux, he even tried to attack Lux and be rid of him with his own bare hands but a part of him couldn't go through with it.... A part of him missed and cared for his psychopath of a brother. So as bitter as Nox was, he couldn't kill him. As bitter as he was, Nox wanted to help. He hoped that maybe his brother can change, now that it was just the two of them. And thus, shenanigans ensue. Nox is romantically involved with Zevlor in this one.]

[phiixomath]

fics i read this week | 20-26/02

i was briefly sick and unable to do anything except read fanfic, so, as a result of the consuming-fic-like-air phenomenon, i present: firtw! after a year!

enjoy :)

organised by rating, then length favourite is marked with an *

strip tease @2towels rating: g | word count: 1k | 1/1

"Oh my." Lance began, scandalized and waving a hand to fan his face, "Keith. You can't just go around stripping." --- Keith gives Lance a show.

this is truly adorable. i love simple but significant moments like these, and it always inspires my own ideas for fun banter and how they'd grow into being in a relationship.

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*flatlands @noero rating: g | word count: 1k | 1/1

Years and years into their tenure as paladins, Keith and Lance fell in love without realizing it.

i love this fic; the soft and very evocative writing style, the dynamic the author establishes with the two of them, the intended message. it's one i personally love and often think about in regards to voltron's semi-fate of everything falling into place in such a way as well as the retrospectively monumental choices that line their path to falling in love, getting together. short and very sweet, save this for an end-of-day treat.

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just take it in @quidhitch rating: t | word count: 4.3k | 1/1

When Lance agreed to stay after school to help set up decorations for the dance and eat pizza with the rest of ASB, ‘oh, I should re-park my car’ wasn’t really the first thought that popped into his head. Maybe it should’ve been, because Lance is chronically late and gets stuck with the shittiest space in the sketchiest corner of the lot every day, but he’s never been a very good planner. Sometimes that’s served him well - he made the 7 o’clock news when he was 9 and decided to scale a tree without considering how he planned to get down. The fire department was called. He got to wear their hats. His abuela still has the clipping. Keith Kogane getting tossed like a rag doll against the side of Lance’s truck - well, it’s a slightly less illustrious experience. For a second all Lance can do is watch Keith spit a mouthful of blood onto his brand new tires, give the boy who threw him a red-tinted smile, and rasp “is that all you’ve got?”

this one is, firstly, painfully good. the angst hits, the fluff hits, and it's all delivered in a writing style i've fallen head-over-heels for. secondly, as a writer, it also makes for a great study, primarily for the aforementioned writing style where there's so much development and emotion packed into short, effective punches. just really, really fucking good. be warned, it's not sad exactly, but it did require me to take breaks to get through in my anxiety-addled state and process just how evocative the writing can be.

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okay i know that you are not my type (still i fall) @quidhitch rating: t | word count: 5.7k | 1/1

The door swings open and Lance's stomach does a sickening drop. He closes his eyes, thanks the good lord that his dark skin hides most of his flush, and prays for the universe to open up and swallow him whole. "Wow. Keith," says the guy standing next to Lance's bane of existence slash brief and minuscule crush slash TA's younger brother, "you could have told me you had a boyfriend, I would have laid off." Keith, who is not as fortunate as Lance, is pink all over as he stutters out an, "I'm not— he's not—"

this one's a perfect follow-up to the former once you've (i) recovered from the first. it's cute, heartfelt, and so, so funny, again in that writing style that's captivated me. if you enjoy a character getting into strange situationsTM, the other discovering them and the two bonding after the embarrassment fades, then i guarantee you'll like this. and perhaps re-read like i have several times already.

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i hope you enjoy these! if you do, consider dropping the author a comment/kudos on ao3 and let me know your thoughts here :)