#i love purple haired keith

[rorimoon9597]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah..?"

"And that he was a hero?"

"Where are you going with this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too," he replied.

_______________________________________

Based off of this post I made

#voltron #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #princess allura #coran #hunk garrett #pidge holt #krolia #keith has purple in his hair #based off if a headcannon i have #i love purple haired keith #someone please draw this man with purple hair as described in this please #not forcing it but it'd be so cool #klance

[bagerfluff]

50% Galra, 100% Stunning

Keith Kogane x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - "You're Stunning"

You furrowed your brows as you walked around the castle looking for your boyfriend. This was the third time this week that he ran off after dinner. You wondered if everything was okay.

Keith had been separating himself from the team ever since he found out he was Galra. You didn’t care though. You still saw him as Keith, the hothead, mullet, lone wolf Keith. But you wondered if Keith was okay. Allura hadn’t reacted the best when she found out. 

You guessed that was expected. The Galra had killed her entire race, her father. But that didn’t mean she could be mad at Keith forever. He was only part Galra. He wasn’t even purple like the rest to them.

And he didn’t have weird ears. Or fur. Keith was still Keith, even if he had Galra blood. But You assumed that Keith needed to be reminded of that. So you spent a few vargas trying to find him. And so far, you had not been able to find him. 

You had checked his room, but all you found was an empty bed. you had checked that training deck. Always a smart choice to look when looking for the hot head. But you didn’t find anything there. Not even evidence that someone was there.

So now you were lying in your bed trying to think where Keith might be. You had spent a couple of doboshes thinking before you shot up from your bed.

The red lion’s hanger! It was the only place that you hadn’t checked and the last place that Keith could be. You quickly left your room and started running to the lion's hanger. Once you got there, the doors opened, and you walked inside.

Once inside, you could see that the red lion was curled up in the middle of the room. But no Keith. you looked around the room once before moving closer to the lion. Once you got close enough, you could hear the red lion purr.

“It's okay girl” you spoke calmly, but once you walked around the head, your eyes widened. There, curled up against the lion’s stomach, was Keith. Though he looked a little different. He still had his gloves and classic red jacket.

But he looked more Galra. His skin and hair were purple, but his hair looked fluffier. He also has ears on the side of his head. They looked like dog ears, but purple and fluffy. When you got closer Keith’s head shot up.

It was then that you realized that his eyes were yellow. Not just his pupils. All of his eyes. Keith also had claws. Sharp claws that lay and the end of his fingers. You also noticed that Keith had tears in his eyes.

“W-why a-are y-you h-here?” Keith asked. “Because you left after dinner, and I wanted to make sure you were okay” You said as he walked closer to Keith. You sat down next to Keith and looked at him.

So maybe Keith was purple and had weird ears and fur. But Y/n still didn’t care. But it looked like Keith did. “B-but w–why?” Keith asked as he looked up at you. When You looked over to Keith, your heart broke into a million pieces.

Keith’s eyes were filled with sorrow and fear. Like he expects you to hate him. “Because I love you” you said as he reached over to take Keith’s hand. Keith flinched before letting you take his hand.

“B-but I l-look like t-this” Keith stated while gesturing to his body with his other hand. Your heart might have broken even more at that.

“I l-look l-like Galra,” you stared at Keith for a while before moving his other hand under Keith’s chin so he could make Keith look at him. “You’re stunning” you said as you moved your hand from Keith’s chin to his cheek. Wiping Keith’s tears off his face.

Keith showed a small smile before you brought him into a hug. Keith then hugged you back as he tightened his grip on him. You brought your hand to Keith’s hair and played with it.

Maybe you guys should wait before telling the team Keith could do this. But you would be by Keith’s side the whole time. Because You loved your boyfriend.

Even when he was purple. 

#lgbtq #voltron x male reader #voltron #vld #vld keith #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #keith kogane x male reader #keith voltron #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane fanart

[1800rue]

Hey there!! Can I get a Keith Kogane x waterbending reader and their childhood friends with Allura?Anyways he kinda thinks their just there because they doesn’t fight them or have advice like Coran but one day they waterbends to save him and he thinks they are kinda cool

Keith Kogane X GN!Waterbending Reader

characters included: keith kogane

scenario: in an act of saving ones friend, reader was quick to protect their crush from sudden death.

warnings: shitty writing, unedited !

a/n: i'm not sure how to feel about this, i feel like the ending sucks and most of the characters are OOC :(

He met you the same way he met Coran and Allura. Pure accident. Lance caught Allura who fell out of the tube, and Keith caught you,

He noticed the marks on your and Allura's cheeks and when he touched you, your ocean blue markings glowed.

He wasn't sure if it was his fault, or it was just yourself who caused them to glow.

When Keith caught you, you were still asleep, but the sudden feeling of someones warm body made contact with your cold one. Your eyes fluttered open to be greeted with a jacket.

A red and white jacket.

Your arms were held by black gloved hands, and when you got a good view of your holder, purple eyes met yours and you suddenly screamed. Pushing him away and raising an arm into the air.

Keith groaned, hitting the floor with a thud, but soon froze and raised his head that follwed a water blade that was pointed at it throat.

"Who are you!" You demanded an answer. However the by didn't have enough time to answer as you shouted again,

"What are you doing in the castle?"

"Where is King Alfor?"

You asked, looking up and around the Castle walls.

"Where's....."

"Allura!"

Your smile formed on your lips, noticing your Altean friend stand by another boy you've never seen before.

Keith watched as you hugged the other Altean. For some reason he couldn't keep his eyes off you. Suddenly, another tube rose from the ground, and soon all eyes were on a man with orange hair, and a bushy orange mustache.

-

Ever since that day, Keith's curiousity for your waterbending abilites grew...and so did your love. However, you had no idea if Keith liked your back?

Does he even notice you?

Sure, there are times he's asking about your powers, but when you told him you don't fight, or have any interest in fighting, he's kinda been dying down on being curious. Almost learned all about you are your powers.

The others adored your powers, and loved it when you showed off to them what you can do. Keith would just stand by and watch, not complimentimng at all.

You don't blame him...you don't hold any purpose then being Allura's childhoodfriend. The other explained he's just like that, and he's not really a people person. However, you can't help but think your not good enough for him.

-

Timeskip to a Galra attack on a planet you've been visiting. To think this could have been a break from all the Galra attacks, but NO. Voltron has yet to be form, but the Lions were set free and ready to be piloted by their Paladins.

Of course, you were left in the castle with Shiro and Coran, for now Allura was now the Blue Paladin, Lance was the Red Paladin, and Keith was the leader of Voltron.

Nothing changed with you.

"KEITH!" You suddenly jumped hearing Lance's loud shout to his rival, "Come on, man! I had that!" You took a deep inhale to calm your nerves.

"They were coming at you at three different sides, you didn't have it!" Keith retorted.

You sighed, hearing both Keith and Lance argue.

"Out of all the times you guys fight, this is not the time!" Pidge shouted over coms, barely dodging a laser blasted from a Galra cruiser. "Hunk! Jet on your 6!"

It was chaos out there, and all you can do over here is watch while Shiro attempted to order everyone around. However, ever since Keith became the leader, he found it a bit hard.

You wanted to go out there and help, but Shiro kept you back, not knowing if you'll even make it a foot out there without a lion, or even a ship!

As the chaos around you roared, you looked at your hands. You kept thinking about things you could do to help your team, yet nothing seemed to light up.

In your train of thought, Keith's sudden scream caused you to look back up to his lion get hit with a laser beam and fall to the dirt. A dirt cloud covered the area of his lion.

"KEITH!" Everyone shouted over coms.

Your heart felt like it got stabbed seeing Keith's lion hit the ground na dnot emerge from the dust.

Come on, Keith. You whispered under your breath. Come on! You felt your stomach twist in turn from nervousness. No one around can help because there all pinned down from the Galra fighter jets.

You squeezed your hands, watching the screen in front of you. You felt your lips quiver, and thats when you snapped.

Coran noticed your sudden form, and looked over to you and was about to ask what's wrong, but he was too late when you suddenly darted out of the control room.

"Y/N!" Shiro shouted out in frustrastion.

Once your feet hit the dirt, you ran faster then you ever could below the battle. Destroyed Galra jets fell from the sky, causing you to use your waterbending abilites to push you forward toward Keith's lion. Meanwhile, the ones already on the ground? You just jumped over to ran around.

"Y/N, you are going to get yourself kil-" You shut your ear communicater off, your running only increased.

Upon reacing the Red lion, you touched its large leg as it started to stand up. However, it was really shaky, almost like it was about to fall again.

"Keith! Keith- can you hear me?" You turned your com on, and your heart relaxed when you heard his voice.

"Augh...augh..Y/N? Yeah, Yeah, I can hear you!"

You smiled softly, knowing he's aiive, but possibly ingured due to the movement of his lion.

Just as soon things seemed okay, and Keith can get back into battle, Pidge's voice rang though your com...and she didn't sound happy..more like..

"Y/N! KEITH! Move, NOW!"

Your eyes widedned as you felt the presence of something coming for you at a high speed. Not wanting Keith to get more hurt then he already is, you raised your hands up from your sides.

The water from the river around the planet rose quickly, and merged into one around you. A large ball of water was soon thrown toward the Galra jet that was flying low toward you, and with a spin of your heel the ball of water smashed against the ship.

The blast you threw was hard and heavy, the fighter jet flew backwards, hitting the dirt and exploding.

Heavy breaths left your mouth as you relaxed your arms back to your side, the area around you wet and cold.

"Y/N.." Keith called out for you. With a soft and tired smile you circle back around to face Keith's lion that stood over you. You looked at the creature in the eye and chuckled,

"Talk me after you formed Voltron...and after I take a nap..."

You sighed, your knees giving out. However, the Red Lion caught you in it's mouth and hovered over the trees, placing you down in a safer place in the trees around the river you used as a weapon.

"Thank you..."

#voltron x reader #vld x reader #voltron keith #voltron keith kogane #keith x reader #voltron keith x reader #vld keith #vld keith x reader #keith vld #keith x you #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #my writing #rue writes ✏

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 47

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Damnit, Pidge by spirkylurkey

Pidge has some top-secret-classified-don't-tell-Keith-info that she accidentally lets slip to, you guessed it, Keith. Lance is an embarrassed mess. Keith isn't faring much better, to be honest.

this one made me LAUGH the way that this all pidge's fault and she's literally like. well. you shouldn't be so gay then. and she's right!! they're so dumb i love them

2. Operation: Faking It by @writeonclara

“What the hell, guys?” Pidge squawked, wrestling away from Matt. “Why are you pretending to be a couple?” Or: Matt and Lance pretend to be a couple because Shiro and Keith are clueless as hell.

do you guys remember shatt?? i remember shatt. adashi will always have my heart but shatt will literally always be funny bc ofc thats ur fic name. anyways. this fic is mostly klance but the entire concept is just so ridiculously goofy that u have to laugh. do you like lance and matt? do you like fake relationship to real relationship? do you like inverted tropes? do you like pining? do you like comedic jealousy? then this fic is well and truly for you because it has all that and more

3. all's well that ends well to end up with you by @coruscatingcatastrophe

Keith's jacket gets ruined, so Lance decides to be a good Samaritan and give him his. This is the beginning of the end.

megan's fic literally make me want to eat cement i'm so serious. i've read and been obsessed with TONS of her stuff but this one???? this fucking one???? oh god the slowburn kills me. the blossoming realisation that oh god we've been dating this whole time huh. the CHIVALRY...............a romance novel in the truest of senses and i am going to fry

4. as long as it won't separate you from me (i'll be fine) by @coruscatingcatastrophe

A little intrigued—not that she’d ever admit it—Pidge begins to climb the stairs. But before she even reaches halfway, the door—slams shut. All on its own, or so it seems. Pidge pauses, brows creasing in confusion, as she turns to look down at her dog. “Did you see that?” she asks. Peculiarly, she notes that Bae Bae’s fur is bristled, and he growls at the door before barking twice. That’s weird. Bae Bae never growls. Turning back to the door, Pidge feels unsettled, but she tells herself not to jump to ridiculous conclusions. There’s a logical explanation for everything. Maybe there was a gust of wind from the air conditioner, or the doorframe isn’t level. Whatever it is, she’s going to figure it out. - Or, a Beetlejuice au (kind of). Pidge isn't a fan of her new house, Lance and Keith are the ghosts haunting her attic, and together they hatch a plot to convince Shiro and Adam to skedaddle out of the house. There may be demon summoning involved. But seriously, Adam. Getting your hair set on fire really isn't that bad.

HAPPY (late) HALLOWEEN!!! ive been thinking about this fic all october and finally let myself reread it. ive never loved beetlejuice more than when i read this. it's so fun!! so interesting!! pidge gets a chance to shine!! klance are so!!! the way it had the story of beetlejuice but adapted well!! im!!

5. never thought i'd see the day in my life by @coruscatingcatastrophe

But Keith has somehow gone even paler in the short amount of time he’s been at the table, and he shakes his head. “No, something is . . .” His gaze flickers back to Lance, and he’s startled to find that Keith’s eyes are purple. They’ve got to be contacts. Ridiculous. As if the mullet and gloves and personality weren’t enough. Keith pushes away from the table abruptly, looking incredibly put-off now. “I, uh—gotta go,” he mutters, before angrily gathering up the backpack he’d dropped into the chair next to him and storming out of the cafeteria. “Huh,” Hunk says. “Well, that introduction could have gone a bit better. Don’t take it personally though; sometimes Keith’s just like that.” - Or, a Twilight au starring Lance as Bella, Keith as Edward, and the rest of the Voltron gang as themselves. Lance is insufferable, Keith is awkwardly trying to figure out why Lance is the way he is, and along the way they fall in love, or something. It's probably, definitely the best love story since Twilight itself.

now ive never read twilight and i refuse to on principle. but i didn't find this one creepy and instead it was super fun and dweeby and lance is indeed a ray of sunshine, thank you megan for noticing, and it turns out when the story isn't a hetero mormon wet dream it's actually a good time!!

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

#i do the same author thing a lot huh #look it's just how i read fic okay. by author #it's easier #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #slowburn #slowburn klance #twilight au #beetlejuice au #pidge #pidge holt #pidge & keith #pidge & lance #matt #matt holt #matt & lance #shatt #longpost #fic rec #fic rec friday

[samiwife]

Lipstick Stains ੈ✩‧₊˚ (Nikki Sixx x Reader)

A/N: Hey! Hope everyone is doing okay! This is a fluff oneshot of Nikki Sixx of Mötley Crüe! He's such a cutie. Hope you guys enjoy it! <3

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

You have always worn makeup. You felt more confident with it. You would always go to the makeup store with Nikki. Nikki would try his best not to complain. You loved it when Nikki was slightly embarrassed when he went into overly girly stores with you. He would blush uncontrollably and try to look away at things like lingerie and lipsticks. One day, one of your favorite makeup lines released a new lipstick color and you wanted to get it. But, you didn't want to go alone. So you asked your boyfriend Nikki. You walked into the office where he was working on his bass guitar. He was sitting on his sofa. You walked in and sat in his lap.

"Nikki, can you do me a favor?" You sweetly asked so he could say yes. Nikki is always a sucker for you being all flirty and cute. It was his weakness. "What is it, babe?" Nikki asked back while kissing your neck. You smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "There's a new release for my favorite lipstick brand, I was wondering if you want to come with me to pick it up." You asked with your arms wrapped around his neck. Nikki rolled his eyes jokingly and sighed. "Baby, you know I get all embarrassed when you drag me along to every girly store you go to," Nikki said with a pout. You frowned and looked down. Nikki sighed. "Okay fine, I'll go with you but we have to get food at the mall because I'm hungry," Nikki said while standing up wrapping his arms around your waist, and hugging you. You cheer in happiness because you loved it when you took Nikki out anywhere. You two got ready and drove to the mall. While in the car, you two listened to Keith Richards and Black Sabbath.

"So what color are you going to get anyway?" Nikki asked you while still keeping his eyes on the road. "I was thinking of just looking like I always do. Maybe I'll test some colors too," you answered. Nikki rolled his eyes jokingly because he knew you would spend hours in makeup stores trying to find the right color that you might buy. "C'mon don't be like that, I'll pay for lunch," you said to Nikki. He smiled. "You better," Nikki said while parking while parking the car. You laughed and the two of you walked into the mall.

After a few minutes of walking, You finally found the makeup store you were looking for. You walked in with Nikki. The greeter stared at the both of you. Nikki looked a little intimidating. He had black messy hair and wore lots of leather. So people often stare at the two of you. You quickly walked to the lipstick section where the different colors were displayed, You tried on the first color you saw which was a pinkish purple color. Nikki was just standing there minding his own business in his own thoughts. "Hey Nikki, how does this look?" you asked while turning to him. He looks over.

"Baby, you look good in any color," Nikki said while smiling. You frowned at his answer, you wanted a realistic answer. Then an idea popped into your head. You leaned over to Nikki's face and kissed his cheek. You pulled away and saw a big pinkish-purple kiss stain. You laughed at the color and the fact it's going to stain. Nikki looked at it in the mirror. He blushed and smiled. "I love this color, it looks great on me!" Nikki said. You used one of the makeup wipes on the counter and moved on to the next color. This time the color was a reddish pink. It was a completely different color from the previous color you tried on. You tried it on and kissed Nikki on his other cheek.

Again, it left a stain. You saw Nikki was enjoying this. He was being kissed by his girlfriend and getting lunch afterward. It was his lucky day. This would happen a few more times. It was just you wiping off the color of the previous lipstick, trying on a new one, and then kissing Nikki's face to test it out a different. You did it multiple times and now Nikki's face was covered in kiss marks from you. You laughed at the end product. Nikki never took any makeup wipes to clean it. In fact, he liked the fact that he had a bunch of kisses on his face. "Do you want a makeup wipe to clean it?" you asked while handing him a makeup wipe. Nikki laughed and shook his head. "No, I love this new look. Makes people know I'm yours." Nikki said while smiling and holding your hand. You blushed and wiped the remaining lipstick off your lips.

"Okay, I finally made my decision on what color I'm going to get." You said while holding a stick of glittery pink lipstick. Nikki looked at it and smiled. "That's a pretty color on you, but to be fair every color looks great on you," Nikki said while the two of you walked to the front of the makeup store. At the front of the store, the lady rings you up. The lady looks up and chuckles at the sight of Nikki's face. Nikki still had all the lipstick stains on his face. "Find everything okay?" the lady asks while trying to hold in her laughter. "Yeah everything was just fine," You said. Then you pulled out your purse and were about to pay for the lipstick when you felt a hand grab yours. It was Nikki. "No baby, I'll pay this time," he said while holding up his wallet. You roll your eyes and put down your purse. "No Nikki, you paid last time. I should really pay this time too." You said trying not to make a scene. "C'mon baby, please you're paying for lunch so it seems fair," Nikki said still holding up his wallet.

"Ugh fine, you can pay this once," you said while zipping up your purse. Nikki pays and the lady hands Nikki the lipstick. Nikki then hands the lipstick to you. You two walked out of the store and walked down to the food court where the two of you had lunch. This time you paid for lunch. At lunch, you ate a small bowl of pasta and Nikki had a burger and fries. During lunch, lots of people stared at you. Maybe it was because of the way Nikki dressed or the fact that he had a bunch of lipstick stains. Nevertheless, it was a good lunch. After lunch, you and Nikki walked to the car. While in the car, you tried out the new lipstick you bought. You looked at yourself in the car mirror. Before Nikki drove the car, you leaned over to him and kissed him one last time on his cheek. A pink glittery kiss mark remained. You smiled and looked at Nikki. Nikki smiled and kissed you on the lips.

"Okay, let's go home. I'm kinda getting tired," you said while looking at Nikki. Nikki smiled and turned the keys in the ignition. "Alright, then we can go home baby," Nikki said as he held out his hand for you to hold. You grabbed his hand and for the rest of the ride home, you two listened to your favorite songs.

#80s rock #fanfiction #motley crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fic #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars

[miraculousbumbble]

Keith HC's that's I personally love

Keith but with slightly pointier ears (not noticable but also not "normal")

Keith except his hair comes in like Krolias (just a little darker) but up until he ends up in space he dyes it black. So as the series progresses his hair slowly gets longer and his roots are purple and pink.

Keith, Romelle, and Acxa being adopted siblings

Keith actively falling for lance (one sided or Klance)

BOM being the found family trope instead of a cold organization

Keith somehow always ends up getting in the middle of the Holt family shenanigans or the Lance and Hunk shenanigans and either way he's scolded with them.

Keith "the devil works hard but pidge words harder" Kogane. Pidge "Bitch I am the devil" Holt

#voltron #voltron headcanons #keith kogane

[airinyourtires]

Hi my name is Tsukiko Dark’ness Dementia Raven Baker and I have long black hair the color of a new moon (that’s how I got my name) with no streaks and no colored tips that I wear up in pigtails and blue and purple eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Dark Mistress Shadowgale (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Keith Baker but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m not a vampire so my teeth are straight and white. I’m also a mystic theurge, and I go to an evil tower in the ruins of Azure City. I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy most of my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black shirt and a black skirt and black boots. I was walking outside the evil tower. There was a rift in the sky, so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of goblins stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey Tsukiko!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was… Xykon!

“What’s up Xykon?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my wights calling me and I had to go away.

#order of the stick #tsukiko #my immortal

[dual1pa]

drive-in movie (part two)

content: extreme smut. p in v sex, cunnilingus, spitting, swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), steve being cute as always 18+ READERS ONLY

read part one here

steve harrington x reader (with she/her pronouns)

have a fic idea? send it my way and i shall write it for you

she ran to the window to wave to her boyfriend one last time before he drove away. it sounded tacky, but when she was away from him, she missed him, even if she had just seen him.

she put her pajamas on and took off her favorite necklace that steve gifted her for her birthday last year. she kept it on her bedside table and laid on the frame of a picture of them when they took a trip to the beach back in last summer.

she went to bed dreaming about a potential future with steve, as she did every night.

*

she woke to her mother quietly knocking on her door.

"sorry to wake you, sweetie, wanting to let you know your father and i are going into the city and won't be back until Tuesday night. you're more than welcome to join us if you like," she smiled.

she stirred more awake now at the fact that she will be alone for two days, "hmmm, i think i'll stay here. thanks for the invite though."

"i figured you'd say no, but it would be rude if we didn't invite you, go back to sleep, we will see you in four days," she blew her daughter a kiss as she smiled to flip over and go back to sleep for a few hours.

when she woke a few hours later, it was still mid-morning. she did her typical morning stretch as she remembered that she was alone for a few days. which means, steve could stay with you for the remainder of your parent's trip.

you flipped over to reach the phone to call steve, who was probably already at work.

"family video this is steve, how can i help you today?"

"i'll never get tired of calling you here and hearing your cute work voice," she twirled the phone cord in her hand.

"i'll never get tired of you calling here and bringing my mood up," steve said through the other line.

"so, i have real good news. my parents are going away for two days and i have the entire house to myself, which means... no one could ruin the mood," she clenched her thighs just thinking about being alone with him.

"oh yeah?" he questioned.

"just get done as soon as you can, and bring a movie for us to watch."

"yes ma'am."

"Harrington! You better not be taking personal calls on that phone! It's for business purposes only," she heard his boss, Keith, in the background giving him shit, once again.

"Fuck, babe, I gotta go. I'll see you tonight, I love you!" he hangs up fast before she could respond.

She bit down on her lip and hopped out of bed to open her window to let the warm summer air in. She flipped through her countless records and picked one to put on while she showered. She hummed the tune of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill" as she massaged shampoo and conditioner in her hair.

She loved the feeling of being alone when her parents were gone, especially in the summer. The weather was nice (for the most part), it was quiet in the neighborhood, she could do whatever she wanted by having the music loud, and the best part: having steve sleepover.

Sure, there would be times when he would sneak up into her room but he found it quite difficult to climb up to the second floor using the small ladder for plants, but he managed.

She wrapped a purple towel around her body and put wrapped her hair in another as she sat on her bed to paint her toenails, softly humming to the music.

*

Throughout the day, she cleaned the house to make sure that it was perfect for Steve. Sure, Steve has been in her home plenty of times when it was dirty, but he was a guest that was staying over the night (or more). She ran to the grocery store to grab snacks for the movie and then made it back in time to expect steve.

right as expected, he pulled into her driveway at 6:30 on the dot. she couldn't wait any longer to kiss her man. she ran out without shoes on to greet him. he wasn't expecting her when she jumped into his arms after he locked his car doors.

"woah! hey there," she cut him off with a kiss, "what was that for?"

"what? a girl can't be happy to see her boyfriend?"

"of course, but you couldn't wait five seconds for me to get into the house?"

she shook her head, planting one more wet kiss on his lips before jumping off of him.

"what movie did you bring?" she asked, walking up the steps to her front door.

"movies," he emphasized on the plural, "got the fly, ferris bueller's day off, the breakfast club and friday the 13th."

"a variety," she responds.

"well yeah, you love horror and comedy had to please my girl in more ways than one," he smacked her ass as she opened the front door.

she turned around and locked the door. when she turned back, steve pushed right up against her, instantly wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"what do you wanna do now?" she asked.

he lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, "i can think of a few things I wanna do," he kissed her passionately.

she held on tight as he took her upstairs and slammed her door shut with his leg. he placed her softly on the bed slipping her shorts and panties off first. he kneeled down on the carpet and moved her legs to rest on his shoulders as he admired her pussy. her fingers comb through his hair as he starts kissing up her thighs, finally reaching the point where she needs his mouth the most. he licks a stripe up her hole to her clit and begins sucking on her bundle of nerves.

She let out a loud sigh as her climax will building... fast.

"steve.. steve, stop I'm gonna come, fuck," her mouth gaped open, not really wanting him to stop as she pushed his mouth on her clit harder. He inserted two fingers just to tease her, which actually broke her. her moans got louder and louder as she reached her high. she tried her best to close her legs, only for steve to pry them open as her clit became too sensitive. he left her clit with a pop and kissed his way up to her lips. she could taste herself as he licked his way into her mouth. her hands pushed down his pants and underwear to feel his fully erect cock.

"so needy for me," she took control.

"mhmm..." he said. she wasn't even sure he knew what she was saying as his eyes were closed as he continued to kiss her. she lined himself up with her entrance and whispered to him to put himself inside of her. she groaned into his ear... he knew he hit the spot that drove her crazy.

he wasn't going to last long as her moans filled his ears whenever he thrust all the way inside her. her moans were music to his ears. she reminded him constantly that it was only him that could ever make her feel this way.

"keep going... keep going... oh steve!!" she said.

those words could have him busting in seconds, but he needed to hold out so she could come first.

she felt his cock balls deep inside her as she felt her second orgasm of the evening coming on. her nails scrape his bare back as their clothes were excluded at some point of their assault on each other.

he grabbed her mouth and pinched her lips for her to open them as he spit into her mouth, she groaned at how much more she was turned on from that.

he had never done that and was a bit afraid she wouldn't like it, but he was mistaken. beads of sweat form on their foreheads, but disappeared when they put their foreheads together.

"please tell me you're about to come, because, i don't think i'll be able to last any longer,"

"come in me steve, please baby." she mentally thanked God that she was on the pill.

he let out a long moan, as did she, as they came together. he collapsed on her chest as she massaged his back. his breath hit her chest as the two of them stayed connected for a while.

since they were sweaty, they decided to take a "quick" shower, even though they ended up fucking a few more times in there.

"i'm starving," she fell onto the large soft couch in the living room and turn on the tv, flipping through the channels hoping to find something good to watch.

"want me to call and order some pizza?" steve asked as he reached for the phone.

"ugh, yes. pepperoni please?"

"anything for you, sweetie," he said.

he quickly ordered and the two of you, after a careful decision, started with a scary movie.

when you got comfortable underneath the warm blanket, the doorbell rang as the pizza has arrived.

*

the rest of the evening consisted of heavy makeout sessions, pizza eating, cuddling, jump scares and laughs.

#steve harrington #my writings #my writing #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington smut #joe keery #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things 4 #st4

[aquagirl1978]

IKEMEN PRINCE HEADCANONS - SUITORS COMFORTING YOU DURING YOUR PERIOD (CHEVALIER'S FACTION - Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke)

Chevalier Michel

He knew without you even saying a word to him. You were returning books to their shelves as he was seated in his private library reading. You had been experiencing mild cramps all day but had been pushing through the pain to get through your work. Despite the discomfort, being near Chevalier was somehow preferable to lying in bed alone. Your back to him, you stood on tiptoe to replace a book on a high shelf just as you experienced a more painful cramp, causing you to nearly drop the book. You felt his icy gaze on you as he called your name. His eyes softened as you approached him; standing up, he took your hand in his. He said quietly that work was done for the day and brought you back to his room. There, he laid you down under the covers. He picked up the book lying on the nightstand and climbed into bed next to you. Seeing your surprise, he smiled and told you to try to relax and let him read to you. Unable to say no to that offer, you did your best to make yourself comfortable under the covers, as you curled up against his side. He wrapped an awkward arm around your shoulders, a bit unsure you wanted to be touched, but tightened his arm around you when you did not flinch against his touch. He started to read to you; not even five pages in, your eyes had drifted closed, his voice having lulled you to a peaceful sleep.

Clavis Lelouch

"My dear, care to take a walk with your favorite prince?" Clavis asked sweetly, offering you his elbow when he saw you slaving away in the library, a tall stack of books before you. Your eyes flicked between the purple-haired prince and the towering stack of books before you; the choice was really quite easy, however, your cramps had started yesterday, and showed no sign of relenting any time soon. "I'd love to Clavis, but you see..." As much as you would have loved to spend some time with Clavis, it would be preferable to remain in the library and suffer alone. Clavis tilted his head back and chuckled. "Nonsense, you're coming with me. I'll have Cyran explain to Sariel that something came up and I needed your assistance." And just like that, your arms were linked and you found yourself quickly being escorted out of the library. "Have I ever told you about the time Licht attempted to bake something and he ended up blowing up the oven and the entire staff assumed that dreadful smell was one of my concoctions?" You shook your head, and he immediately regaled you with the tale, including how Prince Keith happened to be visiting and attempted, many times, to take the blame for the awful smell coming from the kitchen. "I should really talk to Licht one day and see if we can work on bottling that smell. It would certainly keep Sariel out of my business for a while." You laughed so hard, you had to stop in your tracks and clutch your belly. "Are you feeling better?" he asked gently. You blinked at him, confused. How did he know you had been unwell? Apparently, you hadn't hid your pain all that well. Clavis tilted your chin up with his thumb, his amber eyes gazing at you affectionately. "Laughter is the best medicine, don't forget that next month."

Nokto Klein

You had a terrible night's sleep. No, terrible would be an understatement. Your period came last night, and with it came the most dreadful cramps and bloating. And to make matters worse - or better - depending on how you viewed it, Nokto was also awake, his head propped in his hand, staring at you. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly. "You were mumbling in your sleep all night... I wasn't sure what to do. If I should even do anything..." He looked away, somewhat bashful at his admission. Before you could say or do anything, your body tensed, wracked by a particularly fierce cramp. Closing your eyes, you winced, letting out a small whimper. Nokto's eyes flew wide, not liking seeing you suffer through such pain. "What can I do? Please...tell me," he pleaded. When you regained your composure, you told him how there was this one particular tea that they had in the kitchen that did help soothe the pain. "That's all? Just tea?" he asked. He rolled out of bed and quickly dressed, ready to get you anything and everything your heart desired. He was gone in a flash, and while you sat in his bed alone, you rubbed your belly, counting the minutes til he returned. When the door flew open in what felt like mere minutes later, you were shocked to find Nokto rolling a tea cart ladened with not just a tea pot, but an array of sweet treats. "I didn't know if you were hungry or not, and if you were, which you would want, so I just grabbed a few of everything they had left from breakfast." Nokto carefully poured you a cup of tea, adding only a spoonful of sugar, just how you liked it. He handed you the up, and as soon as it was in your hands, he was busy arranging a plate of treats for you. Once the tea and treats had been consumed, Nokto turned to you again. "Is there anything else I can do to help you?" Smiling, so very grateful for everything he had done for you, you felt he needed a reward, too. "Could you hold me?" His eyes lit up - now this was something he could do and was very good at.

Luke Randolph

"Hey, are you ok?" You let out a gasp as you nearly tripped over Luke while walking in the garden. Not expecting to find him lounging in the grass, a small group of rabbits and birds perched on his tall frame, you profusely apologized to the prince. He laughed heartily. "It's nothing," he replied casually as a bird flew from his large hand. "How have you been?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Well..." You had no intention on telling Luke that it was that time of the month; however, the eighth prince was far more perceptive than you initially gave him credit for. "Ya haven't been feeling so great lately." You kicked a rock with the toe of your shoe as you averted your gaze - were it that obvious you were afflicted with pain? "It's okay, ya know," Luke continued. "I have a special jar of honey stashed in my room. I only eat it as a rare treat, and I think today, I'd like to share some with you." Your eyes widened, you knew how precious honey was to Luke; the fact that he wanted to share some of his secret, special stash with you was, well, it was touching. You obliged, following him to his room. He opened the door, inviting you in and offering a seat on the bed. He went to his closet, and after shuffling around a few items, he produced a small jar from a high shelf. He returned to you, taking a seat next to you. In one hand was his jar of honey, in the other was two spoons. "This stuff is too good to put on bread or in tea, ya have to eat it on its own to enjoy its full flavor." His eyes sparkled as he opened the jar. He handed you a spoon, offering you the first taste. You dipped your spoon and took a tiny amount; you often found honey on its own to be too sweet for your tastes. Bringing the spoonful to your mouth, your tongue darted out for a taste. You were pleasantly surprised to find it was not all that sweet, with an underlying floral fragrance that was so unique, that you savored the sweet substance in your mouth. "It's good, isn't it?" Luke asked. You nodded, your mouth still full of honey. Luke dipped his spoon into the jar, taking a heaping spoonful of honey. "For some reason, this always cheers me up. Whether I'm sad or mad, or not feeling well. This honey seems to make things just a little bit better." You smiled at Luke, touched by how thoughtful he was. "Thanks for the honey," you replied. And he was absolutely right, the honey was just like magic, making you feel a little bit better.

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #nokto klein #ikepri nokto #luke randolph #ikepri luke #ikemen headcanons #ikepri headcanons #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic #otome #otome games #otome headcanons #otome fanfic

[iloveboysinred]

That zuko smut you wrote was SO good!! is it okay if i request some nsfw hc ??? but from keith kogane, idk how to be specific lol!! Thank you sm 💗💗

Thank you anon youre my second ask ever i’m super excited !!!!! I’m glad you enjoyed it! You are so kind🥰 & Ofc you can !! I love me some Keith Kogane. Top tier boy in red

Masterlist

cw; sexually explicit content, 18+ MDNI! Nsfw under the GIF kinda long!

GIF BY @/kin-of-the-sheep

- Okay so in my head i feel like after you and all the paladins get launched into space and learn about Zarkon and the war and everything, you and Keith definitely didnt have time to really “get it on” if you know what i mean. Things were moving so fast and you all needed time to adjust.

- But after a few days of training and getting used to the fact that you’re literally in space the switch is back on for sure.

- Keith isnt a patient man. So I feel like he definitely enjoys quickies here and there around the castle. They’re never planned. Sometimes the way you train in hand to hand combat gets a little too touchy, sometimes the way you looked at him made his stomach turn and his dick jump. Keith just needs you in that exact moment, and the way ya’ll be fucking its a miracle nobody has walked in on you yet

-or maybe they just stay away on purpose 😭

- he likes to be rough during these, slapping your ass, squeezing your hips, shit even tugging on your hair. Everything is moving so fast he wants to get a feel of everything.

- but when you guys have real sex, its like night and day.

- You guys would come home from a mission, tired and scared for each other, every time you guys go out there you run the risk of being captured or worse. So immediately you and Keith embrace each other, heading to the showers to clean off.

- It starts innocent, Keith washing your back, washing your hair. He was savoring every caress, just wanting to be in your skin.

- but then he starts getting touchy feely, ghosting his fingers over your nipples, leaving soft nibbles on your neck. You feel him starting to get hard, his body pressed to yours as close as he can be.

- knowing thats on his mind, you decide to take it to his room.

- it takes you a minute to get there, because Keith kept stopping mid walk to press you against the wall and kiss you and feel you up over your towel. He gets needy fast. Like i said, he’s not a patient man.

- So, when you finally reach the intended destination, his movements are in haste, wanting to get you bare and open for him as soon as he can.

- His kisses are slow as his hands wander, holding you close to him as if he’s never going to get the chance again.

- he’s greedy with your body, eating you out messily. He wants every last drop of you, whole time relishing in the fact that you’re all his.

- every sound you make, every reaction to his touch is reserved for him. In a world where everything was taken from him, Keith wanted something to himself. Something he could take.

- So, he took and took. Orgasm after Orgasm until he was satisfied with the mess he’s made of you.

- But even then he’s not finished with you yet. He likes to watch you closely when he enters you. Eyes half lidded as the tightness of your heat squeezes around him, its utter bliss for the two of you, and he doesnt hold back.

- I dont care what anybody says, Keith is vocal during sex. He grunts and moans right above you, thrusting into you with a passion that shocks you. He loves to ask you how he makes you feel, if you like what he’s doing, ect. Despite having been in the same predicament many and i mean maaany times and knowing just how to set you off.

- “like that, baby?” “Fuck…tell me you like this dick” “take it baby, fuck!”

- Very into eye contact during sex. You guys will lock gazes often. You love to drown in his purple iris while he fucks you, getting almost lost in each other, the only thing you can think of is the stuttering of his hips as he nears his end. He’s everywhere at once, his scent, his body, his voice. All you see is Keith.

- ngl Keith folds you up into so many different positions. He just wants to be as deep and as close to you as he can. He’ll have your legs on his shoulder while he basically folds you in half, beating down into you with his forehead pressed against yours, grunting out curses as his hips rock into yours. He loves the way your face contorts with every thrust. He’ll reach between your legs, playing with you just to watch you squirm.

- He loves when you scratch up his back. It lets him know that he’s hitting it just right, boosting his ego as well as adding to his pleasure.

- he doesn’t really do pet names during sex. He’ll call you “baby,” “hun”, “beautiful” maybe even “my love” if he’s feeling sappy & he loves when you call him “baby”, “honey” or even just his name sounds good coming from your lips. But as far as daddy, sir, master?? He will roll his eyes at you so fast and look at you so crazy, it actually makes me laugh thinking about it.

- When he reaches his peak, he smashes his lips onto yours, his hips jerking into yours as he spills into you.

- But when you reach your peak he takes his time to coax you through it, riding it out with you, whispering encouragement and littering your skin with kisses as you come undone.

- after care is a must. Once you guys are all cleaned up you lovebirds will lay next to each other and lock gazes. Kissing and giggling like lovestruck puppies.

- But all that lovey dovey shit aside Keith is a freaaaaak

- Its the little things you do that really gets Keith’s blood pumping.

- like when the team found out he was half galra and Allura was being cold and standoffish to him, you didnt hesitate to rip her a new one about your man! I know thats right

- while you were bickering with her, Keith was just smug as shit, getting turned on by your protectiveness.

- soon as he got you alone he was beating your walls loose, biting you, sucking marks into your neck.

- when you get angry like that he’ll happily bottom and let you ride him. He absolutely loves when you take control and throw him around a little bit. He reaches up to play with your nipples and leave hickeys all over you as you rock yourself down on him, letting you essentially get yourself off on him any way you wanted.

- Be rough with him. Grab his hair, bite him, mark him up. He’s yours and he wants you to prove it.

- teasing Keith is a dangerous game. If you’re in public doing it especially. You’re basically asking him to break you down as soon as he gets you alone.

- sometimes it gets competitive, Keith doesnt back down and he’ll make sure you’re nothing short of a wreck by the end of the night. But you’re his perfect match. The both of you essentially going tit for tat all night. When he thrusts into you, you throw that ass back on him. When he presses heated kisses to your lips, you suck his tongue into your mouth and turn it into a make out.

- When he came back from being gone for two years with his mom, you guys fucked like animals.

- Seeing him shed his angsty teenager phase into his angsty grown ass man phase was making you feral.

- his hair had gotten longer, he was taller, and his body had become more muscular, but still lean.

- when you got him all to yourself after everyone greeted him and he delivered his news and all that, you guys were just straight up nasty.

- you had two years of no sex to make up for, after all.

- He fucked you in just about every position in the book. Doggy, missionary, cow girl, full nelson, all of it. He missed your gasps, your hushed whispers of his name as he brought you to your high. It was sentimental almost, the way his thrusts showed how much he missed you.

- and it was when you reached your peak that it really dawned on him that he could never stray too far from you. Your boy in red was wrapped around your finger, bound to you. He gazed at you in new astonishment, almost childlike wonder as you fluttered around him. Forcing his own orgasm to rack his body. He moaned, low and drawn out. Pressing his lips to yours like he always did when you reached your climax, rocking his hips gently into yours to draw it out as much as he could.

- hushed “i love yous” between the two of you as you basked in the glow of having your Keith back.

Hope you like this Anon 💕 thank you for your request/ask :> notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks and submissions are welcomed !

#voltron #vld keith #keith kogane #keith kogane smut #vld keith smut #voltron smut #voltron x reader #keith kogane x reader #❥iloveboysinred #{​anonask ੈ✩‧₊˚ ฅ^. .^ฅ}

[anonymouszephyrus]

Galra keith headcannons?

I have so many requests to do this week- NFAKJN so, I'll do this one first. Thank you for the question!! - I'll do this as full Galra Keith so he was most likely raised by his mother, taken away from Earth. He's still half but more Galra characteristics showed in his birth so Krolia thought it was better if she took him and raised him in the blade. - I always give him a long tail with a bit of fluff at the end, I just think it's cute and it would be great to see Keith with more Galra characteristics, not just his teeth, eyes, skin, or ears changing. - Have y'all seen Ikimaru's Galra Keith design?

^ Basically this absolute bean <3 - I love the idea of him having lavender/soft-purple skin. Just the idea of it matches so well and contrasts with his otherwise dark color palette.

- Krolia eyes. His eyes are like Krolia's, except maybe a bit darker. But I just love the idea of him being a mini-me of his mother. - Keith's teeth, specifically his canines, grow slightly when he is mad or feels strong emotions. - Since I'm doing this as full Galra Keith. His hair is much longer and grows a lot faster too, I would love to say he keeps it that length but no. Whenever it grows, he cuts it off and makes it into his fucking mullet again.

- I love the idea of Galra's being cat-like. Purring, chirping, or mewling if they were pleased or even just sleeping... it gives them such a cute aspect to the otherwise "evil" Galra most people know. So like.. imagine Keith just sleeping and purring in his sleep. That's just the image I wanted to see.

- I'm also gonna add some Krolia + Baby Keith headcanons here: When Krolia first brought her new kit back to the blade, she couldn't leave him alone at all as Keith would cry until she was back at his side once more.

- Baby Keith loved being held by his mom around the headquarters and whenever she tried to put him down, he would cry and cling to her like any other kit would. (Is it obvious I wanna talk more about Galra kits and their whole deal?)

Anyways. I probably could think of so many more headcanons but I legit have no brain space to think this early in the morning so yeah <3

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #AnonZeph HCs! #AnonZeph Asks!

[possibilistfanfiction]

This seems really indulgent and I know (and love!) footy au so no pressure at all but -- more butch Bea? Would make my day anytime, whatever you might have in mind! :) Thank you for your words

[i love indulgence, here's what was supposed to be one scene & ended up being 8.4k words about how remarkable it is to be butch :) for @unicyclehippo , also on ao3]

//

giving your body to ava is easy; giving your body to yourself is the hard part.

you’re supposed to protect her, you’re told: keeping her safe is the only thing that matters. you understand, as you tug a scratchy blanket up over her shoulders on a train to a little town nestled in the alps, that you are in charge of keeping ava safe because she’s the halo-bearer, because she’s the key to slaying demons and defeating adriel and heaven and hell and the earth between. you’re not supposed to keep her safe because she’s ava, but her breaths are warm against your neck, tucked in safely, her chin on your shoulder — you will keep her safe. it’s a vow you take with the gravitas you have your others, perhaps even more certain, sure, clear: you will keep ava safe.

you’ve felt the same impulse — not as strong, and not as sharp, but the same — toward a few people you’ve known. mackenzie, in third grade, after keith, a fourth grader, called her a bitch at recess, and it was easy, so easy, to let the anger well up in you and to, just like you’d been trained in aikido since you were five, punch him in the throat. you’d had to go to the principal’s office after a small riot had erupted, and you’d sat, sullen, while your principal told your mother and father what had happened. they asked you to apologize, and the words — rotten and wrong — got stuck in your throat. you were suspended for a week and your parents made you go to bed without dinner the entire time; your stomach ached to the point of physical pain and it was hard to think, but when you went back to school, mackenzie had smiled big and bright and had kissed your cheek and brought extra cookies to share at lunch, and it was so worth it.

you’d felt the same impulse in eighth grade, with marin, your best friend. she would come over after archery, and she said she didn’t mind that you were sweaty, even though you knew, objectively, it was gross. marin was always wearing a ripped denim jacket you were, silently, in love with, and her parents let her put purple streaks in her dark hair, and you couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth, even during algebra II, your favorite class. you learned to walk, on impulse, between her and the road whenever you were on the sidewalk; you held hands and felt proud: you were, in ways you had no idea how to name, hers. she pressed you up against the packages of mein and liangpi and cans of kidney beans in your pantry and kissed you, quietly and softly, one day. your first kiss, in the dark in the closet, and you had frozen stock still because — homosexuals are going to hell; that’s not love, that’s a sin, every sunday, and wednesdays during lent and vespers too, all the rosaries in the world won’t take away the way marin sighing into your mouth feels so perfect you want to die in it — it’s in your core, this want. so, of course, you kiss her back. you don’t know what you’re doing, have only watched movies where boys kiss girls or maybe you’d mostly skipped those parts; maybe in bend it like beckham you had paid attention to keira knightly’s short hair and her stomach and jesminder’s smile and the curve of her nose and found it more compelling than the men’s matches your dad takes you and your brother to see. your hands are shaking but you fist them in marin’s hair, coarse and curly and perfect, and you think you might explode when she rests her palm on your hip. it feels a little like jumping off a cliff.

and even your father walking in on you hadn’t stopped you from the want; your mother’s you’re disgusting; i’d rather you take your own life than be gay and the priest at their church telling you, quite clearly, that being a lesbian would result in eternal damnation. even that hadn’t been enough to stop the awful and bright desire to help krishna fix her shelf in her dorm in switzerland when you were sixteen, to accept her thanks in the form of laughter and sweet halwa. you are wrong, you know so, because your parents had seen you kissing a girl and you hadn’t wanted to repent; you had wanted to protect marin from speeding cars and hold her hand in the rain and fall asleep curled up next to her with a movie playing in the background, one where girls kiss and they don’t die afterward. it’s a suicide mission, maybe, the way krishna’s skirt rides up to her underwear while she sits on her bed and watches you level the shelf, her brown skin and the stretch marks you think are beautiful, that you think about kissing, all the time. you learn fencing and archery and you get multiple blackbelts in kendo; one of your sensei has a bright smile and short hair and the most precise hands. she’s beautiful in a way you don’t understand, not really, not yet: her hair is cropped short, and her jaw is square and compelling, and she speaks softly and kindly. when she corrects one of your stances you feel a race of electricity down your spine, the opposite of the stress you feel as your hips get bigger, as you go through the embarrassing ordeal of learning how to put a tampon in, as you have to go up a size with your sports bra. she teaches you to use a bo, and there are many things you can’t name: the power; the ache — you see a reflection that feels so much like a home to you that you are not supposed to want that you don’t know how to face it.

most of the girls in your school had gone to university; you had opened your letters from oxford; from tsinghua; from harvard; from the eth, with steady, sure hands, reading the acceptances calmly. it wasn’t hard, not this part: you braid your hair carefully each day and feel a little like throwing up every time you had to put your skirt on, the weekends and your aikido and judo classes and the standard, starchy, thick gi the most profound reprieve — you studied and you took your exams and it was easy, to become an asset, to become a weapon. you’re brilliant, all of the adults in your life tell you so. you stare at your ceiling and on the bad nights you can’t feel your hands. on the bad nights you want to touch yourself so badly you could scream, and you let your fingers wander down your stomach into the curls that have grown dark between your legs, and you think of stupid keira knightly’s hipbones and you feel the wetness there before you pull your hand away, every time. it’s wrong, to want like you do: to think of what a tweed jacket like your professors wear would look like, how your shoulders would be square and strong; every now and then, you stare at the scissors in your bathroom, for trims in the months between semester breaks when you can leave the grounds, and wonder what it would be like to just cut your hair short, how you might get in trouble but it also might be a relief. there is so much grace you can’t give to yourself yet.

of course, you’re not brave enough for any of it. you are brave, enough, however, to want to die: the ocs is bloody and brutal and a home unlike one you’ve ever known. it’s easier to push all of the sin down and fashion yourself useful, so useful if anyone, anyone at all, ever found out what you think about in the middle of the night, they would still have to value you: you have your arrows and your knives and your sisters and the most beautiful bo you had ever seen. you have your habit and your combat boots; you eat three exacting meals a day and you want and you want and you fucking want — but you tell ava about it, as clearly as you can, and she just loves you. you’re rude, for a second, but she sits patiently and doesn’t judge you for your tears or the curling desire in your chest, and then, what feels like a literal miracle, she tells you that you’re beautiful and you want to be called that, you want to be called handsome, you want her to laugh at your jokes and stare too long at your freckles. you want to love her, and you do: you want ava, who is so pretty and kind, despite it all, to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you will be there for her. so you bandage the cut along your cheekbone in the train car and don’t think of the acceptance letters you had calmly thrown in your trashcan, or the thick watch the woman in front of you was wearing, her sleeves rolled up her forearms, or the way ava is warm and soft and you will gone on as many suicide missions as it took to protect her. to protect her, not the halo, not the church: ava.

she stirs eventually and smiles up at you, groggy and grateful and trusting, like she knows you won’t let anything bad happen to her; it’s easy to let her touch you, to let her lean on you, to let her use you for anything she needs. your heart swells as she burrows deeper into your side.

/

the first time you really allow yourself to think of it, this monstrous, lovely ache inside of you, is when lena, a shopkeeper in switzerland with a neat fade, a perfect quiff combed neatly on top, streaked with grey, and an impeccable linen suit, hands you a pair of pants. ava is in the dressing room trying on a pile of tiny clothes — which you do your absolute best not to think about — and the soft material and exact stitching: neat pleats that will accommodate the small flare of your hips; a straight leg that will sit at your ankle. lena smiles and offers you a few button downs, oversized and collarless, tailored perfectly, and she doesn’t know you’re a nun but you take them all and tell yourself that they’re suitable for you because they’re modest, because they won’t draw attention — not the way ava’s brightly patterned button down she ties into a crop top will, not the way ava will, just inherently, with her perfect smile and elegant brow. you’re drawn to earth tones, to subtle patterns, to thick cotton that drapes without sitting against your chest too snugly. ava loves your clothes, apparently, which is mostly expected because ava loves everything and, you’re certain of it, ava loves you. not as a sister warrior, not as a nun, but as beatrice, which is perhaps the scariest thing of them all.

/

one day, while ava is working and you have unadulterated and unmonitored time to yourself, you let your feet carry you to lena’s shop. ava has been reading you poems at night, and she’s been steadily collecting a few vinyl to play on the phonograph, even though it’s prone to skipping. it’s a life, gentle and slow, even with your training and the looming threat of an apocalypse of literally biblical proportions, and you have no idea how to reconcile who you have always tried to be with who you are, and what you want.

the first night you had been in switzerland, in your tiny apartment with dust and lumpy furniture and ava’s desperately excited energy, you had sat on the couch quietly as she puttered around and then finally settled in bed. you had lied back on the couch, and she had huffed and then sat up: ‘bea, what are you doing?’ she had asked.

you hadn’t been able to find the words that you really meant so instead you’d told her, ‘i’m keeping watch,’ and you hadn’t had to look away from the water stain on the ceiling to know she was rolling her eyes. you had argued, a little, but the couch was genuinely so uncomfortable and you hadn’t slept in so long, you’d gotten up and shuffled to the unoccupied side of the bed. ‘are you sure this is okay?’ you’d asked, and she’d squinted.

‘why wouldn’t it be?’

you had frowned and bitten your bottom lip and stumbled through, ‘because i — i’ve told you, i —‘

ava had rolled her eyes. ‘i don’t care what your sexuality is, beatrice. what i do care about is you sleeping; you’re dead on your feet.’ she had paused and waited for you to situate yourself under the covers, stiffly on your back, and she had huffed a breath and then — slowly, and you were not the only one who understood the overstep of nonconsensual touch, the pain and fury — settled her head just under your chin, resting on your chest. ‘i trust you to keep me safe.’

looking back, maybe that was it, maybe that was the moment you understood: one day, you want to wear a suit to a nice dinner; you want loose, perfectly tailored pants and expensive, thick cotton and for women and femme people — someone like ava; ava herself, you allow yourself — to think that you are attractive, that you’re sexy, that you would do anything to make sure they’re cared for. that you delight in it.

lena is a miracle herself, you think: she understands who you are, or, at least, who you want to be, buried underneath the rubble of a thousand explosions you’d set off along your spine and within your ribcage. she hands you a beautiful suit, and she lets you try it on; some days, you have tea with her wife and practice your arabic and you blush at aleyna’s gravely voice and the way she talks about her favorite art. you are overcome, when you see yourself in the mirror; your soul, eternal longevity be damned, leaps: there you are. you do up an elegant pair of cufflinks and look at a reflection you have always wanted to know.

there you are.

/

ava’s freedom is enviable: she wears clothes she loves and excitedly lets you cut her hair to her chin, because she wants to and because she thinks it’s fun and it’ll look so cute, bea, and she smiles afterward, laughs at herself, delighted, in the mirror. you let her think she’s convinced you of something really exciting and serious when you agree to get highlights; mostly, it makes her happy, and it’s not exactly what you want, but it’s something. ava flirts with boys, and ava flirts with girls, and she leans forward against the bar and winks at you when you drag your eyes away from her chest. some days, you think you might strike up the nerve to ask her, late at night, after you’d heard her touching herself in the shower, stifling little moans: what does it feel like to want with abandon? what is it like?

but you don’t: you dance with her, your head hazy, and you leave a letter — too sentimental, too telling, but a breath — for lena and her wife before you flee. you fight your way through all of madrid and an awful, nightmare of a vision of her with the fog, and then you hold her in your arms, once, after she dies again, after she falls and her body explodes inside its skin — literally. you pray and pray and pray — to her, not a single thought spared for god, and you would give up everything in your life: your vows, your worth, everything, for her to be alive. and she is, eventually, and you help her out of your clothes and it’s a kind of honor in this too: she trusts you not to hurt her, never to hurt her. she trusts you, in the shower, while you’re in an undershirt and boxers and you clean the blood from her ears, to be gentle to her, and to keep her safe.

you have your habit and your robes and your weapons; with each passing day, you become more and more terrified that ava is going to die. you love her; you want, in some way, to spend your life with her, whatever that might mean. but where does it all lead for you if she does die? you clutch your rosary in your hand and feel a very particular horror: who are you, if not for ava’s love? where, now, would all that want go?

/

ava kisses you. it’s your second kiss; you’re the second person she’s kissed, you know as much, but it doesn’t matter: you’ve held her before. you know this, as surely as you know anything. she has been many people, in some way or another, and maybe you have to. there’s so much of your life that has never been yours but the decision to follow her lips as she draws back and bring your hand to her jaw rests in your hands, as steady as they are when you have your bo, and far gentler.

ava kisses you, as she decides to die. you hold her as her body — this beautiful, small, miracle of a body that you love, that you love — fails her, with a particular finality as it glows blue and crumples. you know, when you send her through the portal, that you are going to have to leave this life you have forced down your throat and driven into the marrow of your bones like rods in the center. i love you, you tell her. you hope she knows.

/

no one cares, you realize, if you try on a pair of men’s jeans at a thrift store in berlin. in fact, robbie compliments them casually; you’re not sure if they know how much it means, but they have a lump of skirts in their arms and a neatly trimmed beard and glamorous blue eyeliner today, so you think they probably do. you pull the pants on in the dressing room: they’re light washed, and loose; they fall just at the bottom of your ankles, and you cuff them twice and pull on the sturdy blundstones you’ve worn all over the world at this point. you can see yourself in them in the winter, a big, elegant peacoat and a scarf pulled around your neck, and soft and warm; you can see yourself in them in the summer, rolled up with sandals and an oversized t-shirt. it’s different, than the time you’d tried on a suit — more casual, more variable — but the recognition is there all the same.

‘did you like them?’ robbie asks, meeting you at the front with a few skirts and a crop top that pangs in your chest because robbie will look great in it; because ava would love it.

‘i loved them,’ you say, and a knot releases somewhere in your chest.

/

you end up in los angeles — one tattoo on the top of your wrist and a surfing lesson booked — mostly because it’s the city of angels, which feels a little inevitable, and also mostly because it’s so far from anything you’ve ever known. you keep to yourself at first, mostly, but then you make casual conversation with a few of the surfers out near your airbnb every morning, and they love your accent and give you pointers on how to pop up on your increasingly smaller board and invite you to an arooj aftab show at the broad. it aches, to live this life without ava, even though it’s what she wanted for you, what she asked of you.

you drive along the hellish freeway to make it on time, and you let your friends buy you a drink at the outdoor bar, a little paper wristband signaling you’re over 21 after you’d shown your ID at the entrance; you had agonized over what to wear and settled on your favorite pair of pants, one that you’ve had since switzerland, a wide-legged pair in a deep navy that lena had tailored to fit your waist properly, and a linen collarless button down in a seafoam so pale it’s almost white, the sleeves cuffed up to your elbows, a pair of airforce 1s which your friend had promised you are, without fail, cool. you feel nervous but then your friends seriously look through some art pieces in the museum before the show, and one of them has on a pair of leather chaps, and no one cares at all. you’ve pulled your hair up into a careful, smooth bun for as long as you can remember, and at the show you close your eyes and let your heart hurt: you miss ava. you miss the love of your life, and you miss your faith, and you miss something you’ve wanted your entire life: to be seen as who you are. to be brave enough.

there’s lilting smoke and bright lights diluted by it, everything striking in urdu; you can’t translate each word, of course not, but you do understand: there are so many ways to pray. there are so many gods to pray to.

your friend drops you off at your apartment later that night; you stand in the kitchen in your black sports bra and the simplest pair of black cotton underwear you could find, and let your hair out of its bun. your skin is clean and clear and you have more freckles now than you have your entire life. your hair has gotten long, and every few days someone decides to tell you it’s beautiful. it is, you guess, even though, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like yours. you’d watched paris is burning a few weeks ago, alone at night when it was dark and the only noise you could hear was the gentle brush of the waves outside, after you’d poured yourself one of your favorite ipas and made popcorn, after you’d liet yourself eat a piece of pizza even though you hadn’t gone on a run earlier. you don’t feel like yourself, not all the way: you don’t always want to look at your hips and your chest and when your hair tickles along the middle of your back you have to close your eyes and breathe through it; you love the muscles that have grown sharper and bigger along your arms and the ink in your skin and the way your thighs cut strong and taper down to your knees, the color of your eyes at sunset. you are becoming; it hurts.

you watch the holiness in the ballrooms and you know: people have been far, far braver than you. loving ava — loving yourself — is not a kind of death sentence; it’s a kind of life.

/

camila facetimes you in the mid-morning, after you’ve just finished sparring. you’re in a sports bra, the weather too hazy and hot to wear your entire gi on the full walk home. camila grins when she sees your bare shoulders.

‘picking up the ladies, bea?’

you’ve never definitively said anything, but you kissed ava and then renounced your vows and, honestly, you think everyone probably knew the entire time anyway — it’s not as scary as you thought it would be: camila’s eyes are bright and clear and she’s just calling to say hi. there’s no condemnation; there’s no judgement, only your friend, your sister.

‘no, no,’ you say, and camila pouts, which makes you laugh. ‘it’s just hot.’

‘probably because you’re shirtless on the streets of los angeles.’

‘it’s a two block walk home from my dojo, camila.’

‘you’re not a nun anymore,’ she says. ‘let me have a little fun with it, at least.’

you’re quiet, just a beat too long.

‘how are you doing?’ she asks, resolute and gentle like always.

it goes without saying: you miss ava so much it feels like you’ve broken your wrists; you are in love with the world. ‘i’m — i’m figuring it out.’

it’s a more hopeful answer than camila was expecting, clearly, because she perks up and smiles.

‘well,’ she says, ‘it looks good on you.’

/

one night you think of the curve of ava’s rib. the twelfth, exactly, the way it wrapped slightly in her back, near her spine, a flutter away. you think of the way her shirt rode up in the middle of the night, how she rolled over onto her stomach and you saw the dimples above the waistband of her shorts, the curve of her ass, the nape of her neck, the delicate press of her wrists. it felt wrong, to look like that, your eyes red with sleep — but she was there, and she was so, so beautiful.

one night you can’t sleep and you close your eyes and think about the way ava’s lips had felt against yours. you try not to concentrate on any of the bad, just for now, just for a breath, just for this sliver of moonlight and the quiet seep of your desire onto your fingers when you press between your legs.

you wonder, absently, if hell will open up and swallow you whole. you rub circles around your clit and try, so hard, to listen to your body, to trust it like you had only learned how to do in a fight, like you had only allowed yourself in moments of pain and danger. but you’re safe, in this big bed by the ocean, and you think of ava’s twelfth rib and heaven and you come silently, pleasure drenching down your spine as you allow it to curve into the light.

you give your body to yourself, just for a few minutes, and it feels like heaven. you lie back against your pillow and blink open your eyes and laugh.

/

ava has been back for less than twelve hours before she flits through your closet. you’ve picked up pieces here and there, mostly earth tones, mostly loose and comfortable fabrics; you have a few hoodies, which seem to really delight her, and a tweed jacket you haven’t fully worked up the courage to wear with some slacks yet, although they’re both there, and ready, and available.

‘this is so gay,’ she says fondly, meaning, you presume, your entire wardrobe, and it’s so, so stupid for you to feel panicked, because you are gay and you want, so badly, to love being gay, because you love ava, more than heaven and earth, and she came back for you. but still, you can’t erase so many years of hating a fundamental part of who you are; ava frowns and walks up to you slowly. ’bea.’

‘it’s fine.’

‘i’m sorry.’ she takes both of your hands in hers and runs her thumb along the back gently. ‘i don’t — this is all still kind of new to you, i guess.’

it’s gentle, and forgiving, and opens up so much space for you. you had wanted, so, so many times, to change into who you are, brimming under the surface, and you’d only started to feel brave enough when you’d seen her genuine smile at your new slacks in switzerland. you suppose, really, it’s not that much different now. ‘i, uh, i see a therapist.’

‘oh?’ she doesn’t back away, only squeezes your hands. ‘that’s awesome. do you like them?’

‘i do.’

she just stands and waits and you are thankful for her, again and again; you have missed her so, so much.

‘i started — because i was grieving,’ you say, quietly and in the direction of a row of sneakers on the floor. ‘i went because i was hurting, and i didn’t know what to do with it.’ you had started going because, one night, you had gotten roaringly drunk at a little bar in echo park and felt like you wanted to walk into fucking traffic on the 405 when a girl with ava’s lotion passed by you, but that’s a detail you can mention another time, or never.

‘i’m sorry, bea.’

‘no.’ you touch her face gently, rest your hand on her collarbone. ‘not your fault. but what i mean is that — i started going because i missed you, and i didn’t know who i was, really. i left the church, and i fell in love with you, and, like, how do i become who i really am as a lesbian ex-nun whose — uh, person, is, well, missing, for an undetermined amount of time.’

‘therapy does seem like a good start with that,’ she says sagely. ‘also, person?’

‘we hadn’t discussed what we were to each other, before the portal, so.’ you shrug. ‘i know you’re my partner. but you are also my person.’

‘love that,’ she says, and smiles, ‘and love you. and other than how incredible i am, what have you learned about yourself?’

you lead her to a drawer in your closet, and you open it and take out a chest binder, black and unassuming, one you haven’t worn yet but had bought one morning online, after you’d had a wonderful surf session and you had wondered, just enough, how it might feel. ‘i don’t know,’ you say. ‘i don’t — i’m figuring it out.’ ava is still and patient beside you; you have a holy war coming, one neither of you is sure to survive, and it all seems to matter a little less in the face of it. or, maybe, it matters more. ‘is that okay?’

‘fuck yeah,’ ava says. ‘you’re so hot, like, god, even hotter than i remember? what a fucking gift! and, yeah, i mean, you’re however you feel, regardless of me. i know i’m like really awesome, but i’m just a person. kind of. for these purposes, i’m just a girl. mostly.’ she laughs at herself. ‘anyway, try it on! if you want. i love you, and i want to see.’

for your entire life you’ll hold it in your heartspace: i love you, and i want to see. just like that, just like a commandment — true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy. ‘okay.’

‘sweet,’ ava says, ‘i’ll be waiting out here, whenever you’re ready.’

you step into the binder and pull it on like you’d watched a few tutorials of, and you don’t think it’s something you want all of the time, but your heart pounds and your palms sweat and then your entire body settles when you situate the straps on your shoulders and turn in the mirror, see your chest mostly flat. again, it’s like seeing yourself for the very first time: there you are.

you wipe a few tears from your cheeks and let out a big breath and then slip a t-shirt over your head, pad out to where ava is very obviously vibrating with excitement and not at all reading the book on her lap, opened to a random page.

she groans and leans back dramatically. ‘even hotter, wow.’

‘yeah?’

‘yes!’ she narrows her eyes. ‘but, from what i think your therapist is getting at: how does it make you feel? even if i wasn’t here to tell you how hot you are, which i always will be now, obviously. but even if i wasn’t, what are you feeling?’

unbound, you remember, unburdened. ‘happy,’ you say, and she stands and runs her hands up and down your sides, over your flat chest, and kisses you. ‘i feel so happy.’

/

ava is overjoyed when one of your friends in madrid invites you to a drag show. technically, you’re both supposed to be Very Seriously Working, because there really is an imminent number of battles looming over the horizon, but you rent a little flat a few blocks from headquarters and sometimes try your best to take ava on dates. obviously, she enjoys doing everything in her power to loudly woo you: she buys flowers from a vendor on the corner and dramatically gives them to you; she brings home books you might like, in all kinds of languages; she tells everyone at the ocs how your lesbian love was what was strong enough to bring her back from the other realm. it’s all a little ridiculous, but she always has been, and it’s intoxicating to be the sole focus of her joy sometimes.

ava whistles and you roll your eyes when you slip a warm oversized cream color wool sweater over your binder, careful not to mess up your meticulous bun, and let it sit loose and elegant over a pair of navy slacks and slip on a pair of brown loafers. ava is in a dress and a blazer and she’s done eyeliner and lipstick and she’s so, so fucking beautiful. you’d put a little mascara and chapstick on and a little thrill goes through you: ava wants to be on your arm tonight; she wants to sit next to you and whisper joyously in your ear and kiss you and come home with you — ava looks like that and ava is yours.

there are three queens performing that night, two songs each, ava informs you, when you meet up with your friends. it’s loud and bright and one of the queens — ava’s favorite, if her screaming next to you has any indication — does ‘pure/honey’ from renaissance, which, in ava’s words, brings the house down.

‘gender fuckery is heaven, baby,’ the queen says after, to absolutely raucous cheers from the crowd. ava looks at you with a raised brow but her grin is so big you can’t do anything but kiss her: the swell in your chest is good, you decide, like a perfect set by the pier just after sunrise, wave after wave breaking in a way your body knows exactly what to do with, exactly how to ride safely into shore. you wipe a few tears but you let ava drag you to your feet and you sing along, on your own accord, when they play whitney houston.

/

‘what’s one thing — especially something that you’ve maybe felt scared of, or that you’re not sure you’ll like — that you associate with queerness that you’ve always wanted to try?’

and, like, therapy is hard, okay? it’s hard when ava is so overjoyed and so fearless about her own sexuality, and about loving you without any hesitation; of course, you both have trauma, but ava has never, in her entire life, tried to deny herself want or pleasure or expression.

and it’s hard because, god, there are so many things on that list. some of them you’ve done: buying men’s pants (that fit you like a dream, thank you very much); dancing with ava and finally kissing her after a few shots; going to a lesbian bar; going to a drag show. you want to get more tattoos — some that mean important things, and maybe some that don’t, that you just like — and you want to smoke weed the way ava does with your friends sometimes, laughing slow and soft and curling up in your lap. you want to kiss ava in front of a van gogh without checking around you first; you want to pull her chair out at dinner; you want to laugh when your friends say that’s gay — with lots of love — after one of them says something sweet about their partner. you want ava to steal your clothes. you want to go to pride. you want, very badly, to find a church that doesn’t make you feel like dying.

‘it doesn’t have to be serious,’ your therapist says, coaxing you along just a little. ‘it doesn’t have to be huge or life-changing. just something you might try, whatever comes to mind.’

‘a haircut.’ it sort of comes out of your mouth without permission, but maybe that was the point; you’re still figuring out want and desire and giving in to them without anxiety.

your therapist smiles, and it feels good, warm, to know that you’ve told the truth, that she seems to understand. ‘why does that scare you?’

you look down at your hands and will yourself not to fidget; your therapist notices and hands you a stim toy, admittedly your favorite one.

‘well, first, what if i hate it?’

‘haircuts are, fortunately, relatively temporary. what would you do if you did hate it?’

‘grow it out again, i guess.’ you think of ava’s collection of hats and beanies. ‘a cap, maybe?’

‘logical. what else scares you?’

‘what if ava hates it?’

‘well, from everything i know of ava, i doubt she would hate anything you decide could bring you joy. and she seems very into you.’

it gets you to smile: ava makes that known often, and to everyone she wants, it’s true.

‘when ava tries something, like a haircut or color, or a more masculine or feminine outfit, how do you feel?’

‘i love her, obviously. in any form; she’s beautiful and she’s my partner.’

your therapist smiles. ‘exactly. and, beyond that, i know we’ve been talking about this, but your sexuality and your relationship to it, and your joy in it, lies far outside of your partner. you were a lesbian before you met ava, and you will be, no matter what your relationship with her is, unless you decide you feel something different. your queerness and place in it isn’t just about sex, or your partner. it’s about who you are, fundamentally, and how you want to be seen for it.’

you nod, take a deep breath. ‘yes. i guess, well, when i was younger, 12 or 13, maybe, i wanted to cut my hair short. i was in so many martial arts and archery classes; i ran and swam all the time, so it seemed easier. it also seemed … cool? like, i thought it might feel… that it might feel good, or right. i didn’t know why.’

‘why didn’t you cut your hair then?’

‘my mother, when i asked, she said that it would make people think i’m … that i’m a dyke.’ you pause, let the hurt well up in you and breathe it out. ‘she used that word, and it scared me.’

‘what does that word make you feel now?’

‘i… i love it? it still feels a little scary, maybe, but — i already know people look at me and don’t think i’m straight, even when i’m not with ava. that used to be terrifying, because what if someone was unkind or even dangerous? but that … it hasn’t happened, and, if it did, i could handle it. i know i could.’

‘so what would a haircut change, then?’

‘if i — ‘ you imagine it, then, you let yourself: how the collar of your favorite turtleneck sweater might look, how easy it would be to take care of after surfing, how you could put on mascara and linen and your favorite sunglasses and hold ava’s hand, just like always. ‘people would see me and know i’m a lesbian, i think. it’s… a choice, for me at least, to look queer. and a haircut is one i can’t immediately change, like clothes. and we’re going to see my old friends soon, and i don’t know what they’d think, and — ‘

‘your friends have been accepting of you, and of ava, and of you and ava together, right?’

‘yes, of course. but it would just be — i couldn’t hide. everyone would know; everyone would be able to see, all the time. ava isn’t read as queer all the time; i can pass as straight. but if i couldn’t — ‘

when you don’t continue, your therapist gently says, ‘you would be seen. which is scary, and i hear what you’re saying, absolutely. but, beatrice, you would be seen for who you are, without apology.’

‘that’s true.’

‘i have one more question.’

‘okay.’

‘what would happen if you loved it?’

/

‘how are you doing?’ your stylist, xavi — one of your favorite people on the planet, one of your best friends who has been offering to give you a haircut you actually want for two years now — calmly combs out your long hair after she’d washed it.

‘i think i might throw up.’

it makes her laugh, which is maybe a little mean but also why you’re so fond of her; she had been one of the students in your adult beginners aikido class and, while she hadn’t shown any talent or much interest, she had made you smile all the time and invited you and ava to dinner with her and her wife as soon as she found out you mentioned ava, and you had been friends ever since. most days, you just put your hair into a neat bun. ava likes to play with it down, especially when you’re sleeping in, but when you told her you wanted to cut it she had kissed you square on the mouth. ‘i love you, and i want to see,’ she’d told you again, and played with the engagement ring around your finger. ’even if it looks terrible — which isn’t possible, because it’s you — there’s no way i’m ever asking you to take this off. ever, ever, ever, bea. okay?’

xavi pats your shoulder; she had excitedly fit you in this morning after you’d texted her after therapy yesterday with pictures of a short, neat mid-fade to the skin, sitting in your car before you even drove home, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you didn’t. ‘we can just do a trim, or start with a little off, and you can decide how you’re feeling from there.’

it’s so patient and so kind. ‘no, no. i — i’m sure. i’m just scared.’ it’s ridiculous, really, you think: you’ve been shot and stabbed and blown up multiple times; you have killed more people than you can count; you have almost died, so, so many times. but this, this is living, true to who you are. ‘i — this is what i want. i know this is what i want.’

‘okay then,’ xavi says, and collects your hair, smooth and long, into a ponytail at the base of your skull. ‘ready?’

‘as i’ll ever be.’

it’s fast and unceremonious, just a few sips as you close your eyes, but then you feel hair tickle your cheeks and you open your eyes and xavi hands you your long ponytail with a grin.

‘oh my god.’

‘okay,’ she says, ‘we can stop here? i can definitely make this work.’

‘no, no,’ you say, ‘it’s good.’ you laugh. ‘i feel good.’

‘you want to keep going?’

‘yeah,’ you say, let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, settled in a way, already, that you never have been before in your entire life. ‘let’s do it.’

‘amazing,’ xavi says. ‘this is going to look so good.’

and, really, it does: xavi turns the clippers on and you let go of the swoop in your stomach, your clammy palms, the too-fast thud of your heart, and just let yourself become. xavi explains what she’s doing each step, and she talks about the kittens she’s fostering, and asks you about your new aikido class, and it’s easy.

she finishes; she places a hot towel on your neck and makes sure your hairline is clean in the back and then shows you how to put a little pomade in the top, an inch and a half long, textured and dark. she takes the cape off and you stand, look at yourself in the mirror: your favorite crewneck, and a pair of pants ava had surprised you with from artists and fleas, the thin chain with a tiny cross you don’t take off sitting just below your collarbone. ‘i love it, xavi,’ you say, your hands are shaking but when you bring them up to your hair there’s a clarity in your chest that’s never been there before: unbound, unburdened, you remember, and also: i felt finally myself.

/

you’re in and out of it after surgery; you know your injuries as ava told you and then the surgeon explained more completely. mostly, you’re just relieved you’re alive, because the moment before you hit the wall you were sure you weren’t going to be. you’d asked mary a few hours ago, while ava was in the bathroom, to convince ava to take a walk and then eat an actual meal, not just pick at food while she sits by your bedside. it works: mary bullies ava into it, but sometimes, even now, that’s just what you have to do.

you fall asleep again; you’ve been walking more the past day, up and around with a walker a few times a day. between that and the pain medicine you’re still on, and the residuals from anesthesia, it’s impossible to not nap fairly often. when you wake up, lilith is kicked back in the chair by one side of your bed, her feet, boots still on, resting by your side on the blanket. mother superion sits next to her, doing a crossword in the daily paper. the sight makes you laugh a little, and you’re pleased that you’re a little less sore.

they both notice you’re awake; mother superion puts down her crossword but lilith doesn’t move an inch. you’re thankful your surgeon had let you sit on the shower seat and let ava wash your hair earlier this morning, careful to not press hard against the bruise on the back of your skull or get any water on your incisions — you feel slightly less gross and definitely more awake than you had before.

she looks at you and you feel anxious, all of a sudden: lilith appraises you, and then slouches even further into your seat. ‘gay,’ she decides on, and then, ‘aerodynamic.’

you look to mother superion for a moment, whose mouth twitches in a smile. ‘we didn’t have much chance to talk before the battle,’ she says, ‘but what lilith means is that your hair suits you.’

your brain is still sluggish, but — ’because i’m… gay and aerodynamic?’

lilith, miraculously, laughs. ‘well, sure, but it looks good.’ she shrugs. ‘you look like yourself.’

mother superion nods. ‘it’s good to see you becoming who you are.’

you’re definitely still loopy, overly emotional, but you might tear up from that even if you weren’t. still, lilith rolls her eyes. ‘oh, come on, beatrice.’

‘sorry,’ you sniffle, then rub your eyes.

you hear ava’s, ‘you made her cry? i was only gone for like, half an hour? what the fuck?’

‘i said something nice,’ lilith defends, getting to her feet.

‘sure you did,’ ava says. ‘i can still take you in a fight. i’ll do it, swear to god.’

‘you definitely cannot take me in a fight, ava.’

ava stands, indignant, although it’s made less effective by the comfortable hoodie a little crooked on her shoulders and mary’s a whole head taller than her. the halo flares a little but quiets when you reach out a hand in her direction.

‘oh, for fuck’s sake,’ lilith says, and then in a flash she’s gone. mother superion squeezes your hand before she heads out with a nod and another soft smile, and mary follows.

ava sits on the side of your bed. ‘was lilith an asshole? i swear if she made you feel bad about anything i will kill her.’

‘she was actually, in her own way, kind. and mother superion was too. i’m just more emotional than usual because of the meds.’

‘you’re sure?’

you tug ava down a little and she messes with your hair with a soft smile, then kisses your forehead. ‘very chivalrous of you, to offer to defend my honor, though.’

she laughs. ‘i don’t want to fight lilith again, ever, in any realm, in any way.’ she presses her mouth to yours. ‘but, for you, bea, i would do anything.’

/

‘you look — ‘ you let your brother fumble over his words for a moment and then laugh, spare him any more worry.

‘hot is fine.’

he rolls his eyes. ‘you look incredible, bea.’ the suit lena had made you — navy, and light, a slim tuxedo pant, a single button jacket and a perfect, crisp white t-shirt tucked in neatly, sitting beneath — fits exactly how you want it. your hair has grown out, and it parts in the middle now, and flops — as ava loves to say — just above your eyes; the sides and back are still buzzed short, and it makes you smile, even now — your ‘prince charming era’ according to ava. xavi had done your makeup: tinted moisturizer and a little bit of mascara.

‘i do look incredible, huh?’

he smiles. ‘yeah. you really do.’ he lint rolls your shoulders for the final time, more out of nerves than there having ever been lint in the first place. ‘well, let’s do this then. let’s go get you married.’

he walks you down the aisle and then you wait in front of the altar you had made, barefoot on the beach, and when ava rounds the corner and then smiles at you, you know you’ve given her a gift too: i want to see. i love you, and i want to see.

/

‘thank god i married you,’ ava says, tracing a line down your spine and then along the linework tattoo on your ribcage.

‘mmmm,’ you say, ‘i agree. but why, specifically.’

she bends down to laugh into your shoulder before kissing down your spine. ‘it’s fucking insane that you get hotter like, literally every day.’

you laugh too. ‘thank you, my wife.’

she squeezes your hips. ‘wow. my wife.’

you turn over beneath her and pull her down slowly to kiss you. the snow is falling outside but the fireplace at your room in a resort in the alps is beautiful, and everything is warm. you feel the halo hum beneath her hands and it’s easy, it’s so easy, to let ava roll her hips against yours and press you down into the mattress; it’s easy to put on boxers — black calvins, tight against your thighs — after you shower and stand in the mirror. your hands are calm, and it’s so easy, when you really look, to see who you are in your body. to belong only to yourself: there you are.

#wn #warrior nun fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch!beatrice #an ode to her bc i love her & i love being butch #if this isn't ur vibe... pls just move along thank u #ava’s favorite way of affirming bea is just being horny. a queen #this entire thing exists bc i had the first line & then lilith saying ‘gay. aerodynamic’ & i had to get from one to the other lmao

[bagerfluff]

Keith's A What?

Keith Kogane x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - "Your hair is so soft"

“Keith got turned into a what?” You asked Shiro. Tilting your head has if that would help you hear better. The team left for a mission a few hours ago and just got back.

You were excited to see your boyfriend, but when he didn’t come up out of his hanger, you were worried. But the Shiro told you something that made you realize that space is weirder than you thought.

Shiro had explained to you that the Galra had some new magic and used that magic to turn Keith into a cat? At first, you didn’t believe, but when Pidge walked out of the red lion’s hanger with a black cat with extra hair on their head, you thought you had seen it all.

“A cat” Shiro answered your question as you walked closer to Pidge. The cat in their arms looked up at you. The cat was fluffy and somehow had Keith’s same signature glare. 

They had the same purple eyes that Keith did. “I think with the help of Allura, I should be able to turn him back” Pidge said with a tilt of their glasses as they placed Keith on the ground.

“But I don’t know how long that will take,” Pigde noted “I’m not even sure if Keith is Keith”. “What?” Hunk said as he looked over at Pidge. “Well I’m not sure if Keith got turned into a cat with the mind of a cat or with the mind of Keith” 

Pidge said as they looked over at Hunk and then back at Keith. “Well someone needs to take care of him,” Shiro said as he looked around. “Well I’m not. I have stuff to do”

Lance said before walking off to his room. “Maybe Y/n should do it,” Hunk pointed down to your legs “I mean, look at Keith”. Everyone looked down as did you to see that Keith was rubbing against your legs.

Like a real cat. “Maybe he does have the mind of Keith” Pidge noted with furrowed brows as they moved their glasses. “That’s fine with me if it’s okay with Y/n”. You looked down at Keith before looking up at everyone else with a smile.

“Yeah I’d love to” You reached down and picked Keith up, Keith immediately resting in your arms. You then walked back to your room. This week might be weirder than you thought.

It had been a couple of days since Keith got turned into a cat, and it was differently weird. Pidge had decided that Keith still had the mind of Keith but just a cat body. Though, Lance did not appreciate that since when he tried to pick Keith up, he scratched him.

Pidge said that it should only take a couple more days, but you like cat Keith. He was still Keith, but cuter. You didn’t think Keith could look cuter.

Though he was a cat, he was still Keith. Moody, hot-headed, and only really tolerated you.

Since Keith couldn’t go on missions or train and you didn’t do any of that to begin with, Keith hung out with you. You spent most of your time fixing stuff around the castle. You were an engineer, like Hunk.

But you liked Keith’s company. He just slept and watched you work, but you liked it. You normally did all of this alone, so you liked it. Sometimes, Keith also did the cutest things, in your opinion.

Like he would cuddle up with you. When you were working, sleeping, or just resting. But you kinda wanted your boyfriend back. You wanted to cuddle him.

You wanted to talk to him. You slumped in your chair at your desk as you thought about this. You wanted your boyfriend back. You let out a sigh as he leaned forward on your desk with your arm.

Keith walked over from your bed and jumped on the table when he heard you sigh. “Hey love” you said and reached up to pet Keith’s hair.

Keith mewled as he walked into your hand and sat in front of you. You continued to run your hand through Keith’s fur. That was something you and Keith liked.

You because it gave you something to do with your hands. As an engineer, you were kinda handsy, needing to do something, or maybe you had ADHD. Keith liked it because he liked the comfort he felt when someone did it. 

Keith’s hair was also soft and fluffy. You loved it. “Your hair is so soft” you said with a small smile. “Or should I say fur” you said with a laugh, and your smile grew. Somehow, Keith looked annoyed as a cat.

You laughed at that as Keith looked away from you. “Come on” you laughed as he moved closer to Keith. “You know you love me” Keith looked back at you and placed his nose on yours.

Your nose wrinkled at the feeling but you loved it.

You held Keith in your arms as you walked into the bridge. Pidge had finally finished the cure with the help of Allura. And it was time to give it to Keith. It was in a needle, and you were also tasked with holding Keith still.

“Ready Y/n. Ready Keith” Pidge said as they walked closer. “Ready” you said, and Keith meowed. Pidge looked around, and everyone else nodded as Pidge walked closer and shot Keith with that needle. 

For a while nothing happened and everyone thought it wouldn’t work. “It didn’t work Pidge” Lance said but was quickly proven wrong as Keith started to shake.

Everyone looked at Keith, who is still in your arms. A couple ticks later a human Keith laid in your arms. He quickly wrapped his arms around your neck. You laughed as you placed a kiss on Keith’s forehead.

“You looked cute as a cat,” you said as Keith blushed from your statement. 

#lgbtq #voltron x male reader #voltron #keith kogane #keith kogane x male reader #keith voltron #vld keith #vld #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane imagine #voltron x reader #voltron imagines #voltron in 2023

[silentwillowwhisperer]

*sparkle*

Hi, yep, I'm alive (maybe.)

Here we have cute flower shop Lance and Keith who is very bad at peopleing.

----------------------------------------

Keith slams the door of the nearest shop open and dashes inside. He bends over and grips his knees, panting. His drenched clothes are making a large puddle at his feet.

"Um... Can I help you?"

Keith looks up and surveys his surroundings. There are various plants of all shapes and sizes on every available surface, and brightly colored flowers pierce Keith's vision. His eyes trail all the way to the far end of the room until they meet iridescent blue.

"Are you ok? You look like you've been running from a herd of angry purple alien cats armed with guns."

Keith has to snort at that. It sounds like the plot of a cartoon made for 7-year-olds. (Which is exactly the sort of thing he likes to watch, but can we just let him pretend to be cool?)

The guy has golden brown skin and a splash of freckles across his cheeks. He has a couple inches on Keith and broad shoulders. The corner of his mouth is quirked up into a little smile, and oh my goodness, Keith really hopes that this guy is at least a little bit gay. (That would definitely make his day go from 'horrible freaking disaster' to 'wonderful freaking disaster.)

This is Shiro's fault. It's that dumb, skunk-haired jerk's fault that Keith is standing sopping wet and making eye contact with an unbelievably cute guy in the middle of a flower shop.

Keith had been sleeping peacefully when Shiro called him at 3am (you read that right, Shiro is a monster) to remind him to take medication. Keith could appreciate this gesture when it wasn't the witching hour, but it was and then Keith was awake, and yeah he hid take the medicine, and because insomnia exists, Keith gave up on sleep and decided to go for a very early run.

Keith can't be blamed for forgetting to check the weather forecast, it was early and he couldn't think about anything but coffee.

And that's why Keith decided to walk the 5 miles from his shack in the middle of nowhere to the nearest town to find a Starbucks.

And that's also why he had to run the last 3 miles because the sky opened up and god decided to have a good cry all over Keith and his favorite sweatshirt.

Yep, completely, 100% Shiro's fault.

Wait. Keith has been staring at the flower boy for too long hasn't he? He can tell from the furrow in his perfectly shaped eyebrows that Keith is not following social conduct right now.

"Right. Sorry. Raining. Water. It's wet." Keith is forcing out words and desperately hoping something he says actually makes sense.

The cute guy laughs. (hallelujah!) "Yes, I can see that. Would you like a towel?" All Keith can do is nod stupidly, terrified of saying something else and having Shimmery-Eye-Dude realize that Keith is about to pass out from social anxiety.

He walks up to the cash register to accept the towel being held out to him. As soon as he does, Dreamy Man smirks and leans up against the counter so that his wonderful face is only inches away from Keith's.

Is it safe to assume that Mr. Ocean Eyes is into guys?

Is this a thing that platonic male companions do when greeting each other??

Is Keith being initiated as a 'bro???'

Why is Keith allowed to leave home on his own???? He should never be allowed into a public area without someone to supervise him!

"I-I- um... h-hi?" Oh look, Keith's stutter is here to say hello.

Tall-Mocha-and-Handsome barks out a laugh. (Wow, Keith would really love a cup of coffee right now.) "Hi there. You come here often?"

Wait. Wait! Keith knows this! Shiro explained this to him last week! Flirting! Keith might have a chance after all!

"I- I've never been here inside of this place and if you mean have I been in front of your face before, no I don't think so because your eyes are kind of sparkling very loudly right now and I don't think I would have forgotten that even though I'm face bland and who are you because you might be flirting with me right now and I really hope so because your face is pretty and hi I'm Keith I'm gay."

Keith has to gasp in a breath of air after the word mush that just erupted from his traitorous face hole. Flirty-Person stares at his face in shock as he tries to process the words that have been shoved at him.

After what feels like an eternity, Please-Marry-Keith's mouth returns to its position in a crooked half-smile and his brow furrows slightly. Keith can't tell if this face means confused pity/teasing or endearment.

"O...k then. You're blunt, aren't you?"

Keith has used up his capacity for language-speaking, so all he can do is flush bright red and try to hide his face in the hood of his sweatshirt.

"Welp, I can work with that. Keith, is it? I'm glad you're not homophobic, you we're staring at me so long that I was worried that you were about to start spouting some nonsense about crimes to humanity. I'm Lance, and are you from outer space? Because your body is out of this world!"

Stop. No. There is no way that Lance (yay, finally, a name! Keith was about to start calling him Sokka.) is a dork. Because Keith's weak heart will actually die. Oop, too late, he's already dead. Deceased. He has officially kicked. the. bucket.

He can't help but dissolve in to giggles. He so caught of guard by the pick-up line that he has to brace himself against the counter to keep from collapsing onto the ground. He rests his forehead on the smooth marble surface and desperately tries to stop choking on his laughter.

"Awww, what? That was my best line!" Keith looks up at Lance's face to see him smiling fondly at him. At least he hopes that's what it is. It there still a chance that Lance is fake smiling to hide the fact that he's calling the police?

Keith finds himself smiling back.

(Two days later they have their first date at the park, Lance prepares a giant picnic and Keith has never been more excited.)

(Shiro never lets Keith hear the end of this.)

-------------------------------------------------------

I think that was an acceptable ending. Alright, now no one wake me up until I've had at least 10 hours of sleep or I might cry. (That means you @gavemebluethenpurplepinkskies, are you happy now?)

#vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #keith vld #vld keith #lance vld #shiro vld #flower shop shenanigans #awkward keith #tawny post

[eggsareround]

Klance headcannons while i suffer from writers block

Keith tells Lance that when they get back to earth, he'll build Lance a house by the ocean in Varadero with a gazebo.

Lance quietly suffers all night from the urge to tell Keith he loves him so much

When Keith is in a healing pod, Lance stresses so badly he knits. He crochets. Pidge has go drag him out of a space shop that sells yarn so many times that she doesnt even blink when he turns up with purple yarn.

Keith has so many hippos, bees and sharks that Lance has made for him.

He keeps them all on his bed.

They play stupid games on the tablets in the castle and Lance destroys Keith in all of them

Keith is a master at games on a console. Unless theyre horror and then he turns into a ball of terror and dread

Not much for public affection other than holding hands and a quick peck on the cheek, they've found other ways to assure each other in public

Keith says thinks to him in the galra tongue that leaves Krolia and Kolivan sharing a look each time without fail

Lance taps any part of Keith he can subtly three times to tell him he loves him

When Lance gets frustrated with himself, instead of pulling his hair out or biting his nails like he used to, Keith lets him braid his hair at least a thousand times

Lance got the big brother talk from Shiro

Funnily enough, so did Keith

Theyre so in love it physically makes Pidge sick but she loves them so when they smile softly at each other, she just turns away

When Keith leaves for BoM, they face time every chance they get. Most of the time Lance is in red and Keith always gets the faint feeling of happiness in the back of his head, along with a small flash of them both and a whisper of 'mine'.

One time Kolivan came in when Lance was telling Keith a story and took a picture of his face just to bully him because of how in love he was

Keiths background on his phone is lance smiling with his sister Veronica and the sun is in the background, with purple skies and sand in his hair from the beacj in Varadero

Lances background is Keith staring up at the sky, unaware hes being photographed, while a fire crackles between them.

(They were watching the sun set in the desert around where Keith stayes during The Year that Wont Be Spoken Of and get distracted so they wait for the sun rise)

Keith is little spoon while Lance is human body pillow for both Keith and Kosmo

Thats about ir for rn cause the inspiration just struck again! Bye!

#voltron #headcanon #klance #keith headcanon #lance headcanons #theyre so silly i love them #the house over the beach made me emotionally repressed Keith would do anything to make Lance happy

[autisticlancemcclain]

“I came to help you!”

“I don’t need your help!” Shiro shouts, hoarse, activating his hand and holds it threateningly between them. Keith’s face crumples, betrayed, and it hurts so bad to see that Shiro can feel the ache of it in his chest. “All I need to know is that you’re safe. Far away from all this.”

Kill him kill him kill him end him end Voltron bring victory to the Empire be the Champion I made you to be

Shiro’s voice cracks. “Away from me.”

Keith doesn’t stop advancing. Tears leak from his eyes, one after another after another until it’s just steady streams, like a leaking faucet that won’t stop. But his jaw is set, and his shoulders are squared, and he won’t back down.

“I came to help you,” he repeats. He sounds as grown as he’s ever sounded, as he says it. Keith’s voice has only gotten deeper with every year in space, and his voice is already rough with emotion. But that’s not who Shiro hears; this man who is stubborn and strong and resolute. He stumbles forward, clutching his hands to his ears, trying to claw out the sound of Her yelling, screaming, ordering him to kill, to fight, to attack. Her screams are interspersed with flashes of memory; of a young boy with his fringe pulled over his eyes, sneaking into his car as he heads to the grocery store I came to help you; a scrawny teen with knobby knees and ill-fitting gloves he refuses to take off, showing up in his office and grabbing some papers to mark I came to help you; an older teen, hair brushed for once, wearing an old black suit, gently plucking the cuff links from Shiro’s hand before the life-changing question-popping dinner and putting them in himself because Shiro’s hands were too shaky I came to help you. Over and over again Shiro sees him, his brother, following behind, I came to help. I came to help you. Let me help. Rough around the edges but soft and kind and loving. His brother. His brother. His brother.

“Let me help,” Keith begs, closer now that he’s ever been, close enough to push Shiro’s arm down, gently, so it’s not a threat. “I came to help, Takashi, let me help.”

“Help me,” Takashi whispers.

Slaughter him, She orders.

The Champion straightens. His eyes glow purple. The Black Paladin draws away in fear, reaching for his bayard, hesitant.

“Please,” he whispers.

The Champion lunges.

———

based on this post

#sorry if this is confusing and also sorry for this in general #vld #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane #clone shiro #shiro angst #keith #keith kogane #black paladin keith #keith angst #broganes #hurt no comfort #post s5 #s6? #my writing #fic fragment