AHHHHH!!! This Is???? So Cute???? I Love It???? So Much????

If these girls can kick my butt, then they deserve some pretty cool outfits 😘

Lotidge Ship Week: Day 2 - Fight

Sorry guys, but applications are due soon, so Lotidge Ship Week entries might be a little late and have some weird mistakes. :( 

Curse you Princeton! Jk, please read my essays

===

“No.”

“You can’t tell me what to do Shiro.” Scowling further, the Green Paladin sent a defiant glare at the Head of Voltron. The latter only crossing his arms as he tried to stare her down.

“I said no Pidge.” There it was again, that blankness to his look that made Pidge’s heart twist uncomfortably. That subtle detachment to her that made the young woman want to sock Shiro across the jaw, take Matt and Green, and book it for the hills.

“And I said I’m going.” Shiro was just about to open his mouth to refute her again, when a third, previously ignored voice broke through their tension.

“I could go with her.” Speak of the Devil. Or, more accurately, of the Galran Prince-turned-unwitting ally.

Prince Lotor.

He stood, leaning against the wall within their little lounge. Looking half-bored and half-frustrated. Oh great, as if Pidge wasn’t at the end of her patience already, Lotor just had to butt in.

“Oh come now Champion, you know as well as I do she’ll be killed on her own.” Lotor’s voice was all but a purr as he, very pointedly, looked over Pidge’s head at Shiro. Glossing over her with those brilliant blue eyes. 

The Black Paladin glaring right back.

“And who’s to say you’ll help her chances?”

“Well, unlike you Champion, I know these ships like the back of my hand. Not to mention the fact I’m just as much as a wanted criminal as you lot.” Pidge tried getting a word it, but the two just kept at it. 

“That’s not worth Pidge’s life.” Ok, that’s it! Pidge wasn’t going to deal with this…weird display of testosterone. She didn’t have time for this! Not right now!

Not when she found a lead on her dad.

So that’s why Pidge jumped up, strode over to Lotor, guns blazing, and grabbed his hand. Forcibly dragging a Galran Prince who was, at the very least, two feet taller than her, up and away from the Black Paladin.

Missing the look of surprise on Lotor’s face.

Shiro, naturally, called after them. But all his half-baked pleas fell on deaf ears. Pidge’s body feeling far, far too hot. A frustrated flush rising to her face and the tips of her ears. So, hand and hand with the Galran Prince, she set a course for their destination.

A Galran transport ship.

Said to hold the usual cargo. Weapons, quintessence, and mechanical supplies. But there was a unique addition to this particular ship. It was said that it was transporting a small group of especially intelligent slaves for some purpose Pidge would rather not think about. Made complete by a boosted security. So yeah.

She might need Lotor’s help.

“Going without your brother? How rebellious~” Ugh, she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. But she didn’t want Matt out there, in danger.

Not after everything he’s been through.

“Sit down and shut up before I make you.” Was all Pidge had the patience to grit out as she and Green left the Castle of Lions.

Familiar sparks dancing up her arm as she allowed herself to sink into the Green Lion’s cockpit. Ok. Ok. Breathe, you can do this. Pidge told herself, trying to calm down before anger made her stupid and reckless. Just breathe.

Breathe.

"Where are we going?" Oh quiznak. Clenching her jaw, Pidge turned her annoyed gaze toward Lotor. The latter raising a single white eyebrow at her. Pidge thought it over as she blocked the commutation Shiro was trying to send her.

"To find my dad." Pidge echoed as she turned back around. Watching as Green streamlined past stars and moons she didn't have the time to revel in.

She could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Your father? He's with the Empire?"

"Unwillingly yes." Pidge didn't even try to keep the bitterness out of her voice. God, look at her. Going around space in a magical giant metal lion with the son of her enemy riding shotgun. Had Pidge not been living that reality, she would've laughed.

Lotor remained silent.

Which was perfectly fine with Pidge. Give her a quiet Galran Prince over a talkative one any day. Because, like this, Pidge could actually think.

About a lot of things.

What was she doing? Disobeying Shiro’s orders? Rushing into the fray? God, she was beginning to act like Keith. But what if her dad was there, on that ship?

What if he wasn’t?

“-aladin! Paladin, I believe were getting close!” It was Lotor’s voice that brought Pidge out of her thoughts. And, with a jolt, she realized he was right. The Galran ship was quickly coming closer and closer into view. Pidge flying into action.

Quickly activating Green’ cloaking ability.

“Your lion has cloaking?” Lotor’s voice was closer, Pidge realized. He was standing behind her, arms braced against her seat. Leaning down to her level. Where, in her peripheral vision, she could see the silvery strands of hair flutter gracefully off his shoulder.

Pidge had half a mind to step on the breaks.

“Yes, so stay inside and wait for me.”

“No.”

The Green Paladin nearly groaned at the immediate sense of deja vu. Setting Green up to follow the transport ship while they climbed off board, Pidge pursed her lips.

Trying to stay calm.

“I didn’t ask you Lotor.” She glared up at him then. His gaze was steady, blue-yellow eyes focused and determined as he gazed at her. But there was something more to that look he gave her. Something that puzzled her.

That made her heartbeat flutter.

But only for a tick.

“And you didn’t ask me before grabbing my hand and jumping ship...Pidge.” With that, the strange look to Lotor’s eyes increased as he turned away to put on his helmet. Leaving Pidge’s mind reeling from…that look.

That soft, soft look.

- - -

But nothing stayed peaceful for long.

Her father wasn’t on the ship. But a Galran Commander was. So between the crushing weight of losing another lead on her father, the frantic efforts to protect the slaves that remained, and staying alive. Pidge was on the edge.

Wanting to throw herself off it.

“I thought you said your father was aboard this ship?!” Came Lotor’s frantic cry as they ducked for cover against a metal crate. Pidge hissed in pain as the cut on her thigh sang with pain. Dammit! It wasn’t supposed to be like this!

This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“I thought he was!” She screamed right back, launching right back into the fray after a moment’s rest. Running low to the ground as shots flew above her. But before the sentries could adjust their aim, Pidge lashed out.

Electrified Bayard swinging toward them.

A quick, jolt of electricity and they fell. Limp limbs of metal and wires on the floor. She could feel Lotor’s gaze on her. Burning her skin even through her armor. Pidge’s clenched fist and grip on her weapon turned near choking.

“You thought? You risked our lives on a mere guess? You fool!”

She turned toward him.

“I never asked you to come with me!” She must’ve looked like a mess, but Pidge couldn’t find it in herself to care. So what if Lotor saw the huge tears streaking down her face? She didn’t care.

Didn’t want to care anymore.

She just wanted her father back. Was that so wrong? Was that so hard for Lotor to understand? Looking at him, Pidge saw that strange, soft look return to his sharp features once more. His mouth parted. As if to say something. Pidge burning against his gaze, humiliated and frustrated.

She didn’t want his pity!

“Pala…Pidge, I-I didn’t mean to-“ Still looking at her, Lotor’s eyes widened. Freezing mid-sentence as he caught sight of something over her shoulder.  

Pidge’s blood running cold.

She turned, but not fast enough. The world grew noisy once more with the sound of gunfire. Pidge bracing herself for the worst.

But the worst never came.

It was Lotor. The enemy everyone was so hesitant about trusting. It was that Galran Prince that tackled her to the side, out of harm’s way.

At his own expense.

“AHHHGH!” Lotor howled, clutching his upper back. Purple skin sizzling from the heat of the blast. Cut into his body savagely. Blood already running down his back in deep, dark maroon rivets.

Drops of it dripping onto her armor. Their collided forms poorly hidden between a wall and another crate. His weight baring down on her smaller body. Silver hair brushing Pridge’s cheek as he loomed above her. Face pinched in pain.  But that soft look remained as he gazed down at her.

“P-Pidge…”

Reblog if you're shorter than 5'8.

Soudam Week - Day 7: illness (Hanahaki Disease)

Petunias have contradictory meaning for they represent resentment as well as the desire to spend time with a person. The meaning of sending petunias usually depends on the circumstances and relationship between the giver and the recipient.

Gundham Tanaka didn’t like people.

 They were untrustworthy, unworthy of being oh his presence. Him, the Great Gundham Tanaka, the Overlord of Ice, and future ruler of this world, was above mortals and their plights. Mortals! Bah! Always so dishonest and complicated.

Truly, Gundham was better off without them.

 Beasts, with their breathtaking simplicity, were far superior. And each one a fierce warrior for the Overlord of Ice to make an ally. Beasts listened and understood, while mortals always insisted on things like reason and reward. There was no true drive, no true passion in their lives.

And Gundham pitied them for it.

===

The Angel was kind

The Demon was not.

 Time and time again the Angel would shield him with her own body against the Demon’s assault’s. Protecting from the wrath of one she might've loved a different lifetime ago. And each time Gundham felt the most primal of emotions flood his being.

Rage.

 How dare such a scoundrel attack one as wonderful as the Angel? How dare such scum try to harm him, the Great Gundham Tanaka? How dare the whelp even breathe the same air as the two? But Gundham has been young then, not yet ready to challenge the Demon.

But that day came swiftly.

 Gundham has spend months training the lost hellhounds that wandered around his domain. Earning quite a few battle wounds in the process that the Angel fretted over, but he, himself, couldn’t bear to explain. But he was ready. So when the Demon came, roaring after him and the Angel, the Overlord of Ice was prepared.

Gundham was ready.

 The Demon’s blood, his blood, soaked the ground where he walked. But it was over. The barking, snarling, and struggling. It was all over. The Angel had blinked once, twice at the scene before her. But she was like Gundham in the end.

Unable to shed a single tear.

===

Years passed and so did the Angel.

 But her death, at the very least, had been peaceful. Leaving this wretched mortal realm surrounded by soft whiteness and a calm, soothing smile. Still, Gundham mourned. Mourned and cried.

Cried and mourned.

 Still, he was the Great Gundham Tanaka. He couldn’t stop in his path to rule this world. Not now. Not after everything. So Gundham dedicated everything he had into taming more hellish beasts, more warriors to fill his army.

More allies to fill his heart.

===

His dedication rewarded him.

 The mortals who ran the infamous “Hope’s Peak” saw fit to offer the future ruler of this world a place at their institution. Supposedly guaranteeing his success unpin graduation. Bwahaha!

Perfect!

 He, the Great Gundham Tanaka, would conquer any challenges thy dare stand in his way! The mortals among him would flee in terror at his prowess! Let pure pandemonium erupted before him! The Overlord of Ice would rise above it. He was invincible! Untouchable!

Immortal!

===

He had no idea.

 The Great Gundham Tanaka, even with his army of fierce warriors and all-seeing eyes, had no clue as to how the loud, brash mechanic with the serrated teeth and bright pink hair would factor so strongly into his fate.

They met at Hope’s Peak.

 And it was obvious then. The two hated each other. Mostly because of misunderstandings and partially because of childish stubbornness. But how was Gundham to know? Then of all moments.

That Kazuichi Souda would be the one to kill him.

===

Seasons changed and so did they.

 But with the passage of time, one thing remained constant. Ever present in everything. Death was all around him. It followed him, ever since vanquishing the Demon and letting go of the Angel. And it was the one thing even Gundham couldn’t conquer.

No matter how much he wished to.

 Death came, as it often did, for his warriors. Some leaving this realm after a long, blessed life and some dying in the heat of battling for their lives in accordance to Nature’s laws. But each time Death came regardless.

And Gundham mourned every single one.

 He willed the sky’s to thunder and burn and weep with every ounce of agony within in his frozen, aching heart. He willed the Earth to split and crumble beneath his clawed, grasping hands. He willed the very lives around him to twist and succumb to similar heartache.

Souda had found him like that once.

 The sky had obeyed his demands, letting loose a torrent of wanted onto this blasted realm and Gundham reveled in it. Standing in front of his beloved warrior’s grave under the onslaughts of ice cold tears from the heavens. And, as Overlord of Ice, such a thing had no effect on him. No matter how cold his skin became or how startling a blue his lips turned. He was fine.

But not to Souda.

 The mechanic had all but released an ear splitting shriek as he scolded him, him!, on staying out in the rain. But Gundham only ignored him, shoving off the heavy, calloused hand in his shoulder. Couldn’t someone as lowly as him understand that the Overlord of Ice wished to be-

Souda picked him up.

 Skin on skin. Arms around his waist. Chest against back. Gundham, naturally, shrieked and screamed. Fool! Did he not know his very touch was poisonous?! Did he not know that Death lives in his shadow?!

That he killed everything he touched?!

 But Souda, stupid, stupid Souda, never released him nor dropped him. Just pulled him up and away from the grave and into the barn. There it was dry. Almost comforting with the familiar warmth and smell.

But that didn’t stop the tears.

 Gundham hadn’t even noticed them, not at first. The rain had all but numbed the Overlord of Ice, ironic he knew. But that wasn’t exactly his priority right now. Not when he fought and flailed in Souda’s arms to get him off, to get those arms off of him. Before he saw, before Gundham’s own tears betrayed him. Though Souda didn’t let go until he dragged him to the center of the building.

Berating him.

 Him! The Great Gundham Tanaka! What right did he-What could he possibly-Why did he even-And just like that, Gundham broke down then. Succumbed to his own sobs on that barn room floor. Holding his head in his hands as the tears shook his shoulders and racked his body. Too tired to even listen. Damn it.

Damn it!

 Who was he to think that he could conquer Death? Even the Great Gundham Tanaka was slave to time and rot and ruin. No power of his could ever stop not. He couldn’t save anyone. Not his warriors. Not his army. Not himself.

Not the Angel.

 So this was agony? So this was despair? Dark Gods, Gundham never thought it would take him. Not like this, not in some rain-soaked barn while a hated classmate of his was standing above him. Looking down on him! The Great Gundham Tanaka, being looked down upon. Truly this was cause for tragedy. Truly this was-

Souda touched him.

 Not like the Demon used to. No...The way Souda touched him was gentler, kinder. Like the Angel. And, like the Angel, he called out his cursed name so softly. Souda’s hand heavy and clumsy on Gundham’s shoulder, but there. And when he looked up, there Souda was, standing not in triumph, but in concern. Sweet, dear concern for someone he hated.

 Someone who called him pathetic, someone who laughed at his fears, someone who-Souda sank down. The damp sawdust and hay underneath him giving way to his weight as the the mechanic sank down on his knees. Level to Gundham’s tearful form. And hugged him.

Embraced him.

 With that same dear look in his eyes and those arms around his shaking shoulders. Just like that, Souda pulled him close. Comforted him. It was in that moment, in that rain-soaked barn, that Gundham felt a...flutter in his heart.

A pain in his chest.

 A tremble, a tremor that riverbated throughout Gundham’s entire poisoned being. A single movement that shook him to the core. It was that moment that something took root in Gundham’s chest. Something digging and pinching and aching. Something that began to grow and fester in the aching cavity of his heart.

Something that felt familiar.

Something like love.

===

It happened after that.

 A week had passed in Gundham’s glory. Though, admitably, that week had been full of tension between himself and Souda. With neither bringing up the incident in the barn. The tension only increasing with every passing day, until the Overlord of Ice could take no more.

It was homeroom.

 Souda had just arrived, heading straight towards the Baby-Faced One and the Lucky One without so much as look in his direction. The morning’s light turning the choppy ends of his hair a bright, soft color. Glinting off his teeth, sharp as a knife.

 Gundham had planned to put that incident to rest. To tell the mechanic to just forget the breeder’s moment of weakness. To let whatever feelings they may have felt at the time to just die. And that’s when Gundham felt it.

A flutter, a tickle in his throat.

 And it didn’t go away. No, it stayed in his throat, persisting until Gundham was forced to cough into his hand. It wasn’t violent, but it was enough to rouse the four Dark Devas of Destruction from their resting place within the Angel’s scarf.

They were Gundham’s first witnesses.

 Some object was lodged in the breeder’s throat. Splattering onto his palm with a few hard coughs. Gundham’s chest burning in the aftermath. The Overlord of Ice looking into his palm, curious as to what in the name of-

A flower.

 A rumpled, spit-slicked, and sodden flower. Bright pink in color and drowning in a small dribble of Gundham’s spit. The Overlord of Ice stared at it, completely dumbfounded. What? What was this? Some sort of spell?

Some sort of curse?

 But Gundham never got the chance to act or speak on his shock, Ms. Yukizome fluttering in to begin the day. The breeder’s all-seeing eyes flickering over to where Souda had hastily taken his seat. Watching the slow slip of his dyed hair as it moved from his back to his front. The thin strands sparking in the air like single streams of light.

The color of petunias.

===

More flowers came.

 But none came as gently as the first. Pink petals and fuschia blooms and magenta buds and forest stems and apple green leaves. They all retched from Gundham’s mouth in due time.

Bloodied by his own innards.

 The breeder heaved them up by the dozen in his realm’s restroom. Clinging to the toilet with white knuckled hands and abright sweat-shining forehead. Gundham felt every scratch, every prick of those flowery blooms and every scrape of those leafy edges. They sliced down his throat. Starting and stopping. Moving and clogging.

Choking him.

 The bowl of water underneath him like some cheerfully macabre specticle. Gundham’s blood bright and staining to white porcelain. All while pink petals float calmly on the surface of the bloodied water. Lush blooms bobbing in the thickened water, enjoying a relaxing, gorey soak in a pool of watered down blood. Chunk of probably vital innards clinding to bright green leaves as they ferried across the vermillion surface. A bowl of red, dotted with green and pink. Pink? Pink.

Pink like someone’s hair.

 His stomach convulsed with the effort to get whatever was inside of him out of body. But Gundham was never quite able to do so. There was new weight to his chest, something wrapped around his lung and heart. Letting out a pained groan, Gundham slipped his from his crouched, agonized position. The cool tile underneath him offering no respite from the strangling feeling and steady drops of blood from his mouth.

The Devas shaking next to him.

 Of course they had stayed by his side throughout this entire ordeal, absolutely terrified for him. But there for him nonetheless. The Overlord of Ice clutched his sore stomach, drops of blood still speckling his mouth. Oh Dear Dark Gods.

Something was wrong with him.

===

It was called Hanahaki Disease.

 But Gundham had to find that out on his own. Perhaps the Timid One would’ve been helpful in diagnosing him with this...strange ailment. Perhaps he should’ve told someone about the many instances where the Overlord of Ice had to frantically rush to the nearest empty restroom to vomit up entire bouquets of pink, blushing flowers. Perhaps someone’s opinion on Gundham’s strange drive to keep those flowers close to him. To have them remain his and his alone. Perhaps someone could have helped him with this strange ailment.

But Gundham’s pride stood firm.

 He was the future of this world, the fiend who would conquer this planet. How was he supposed to do such great feats if he was unable to conquer this one silly sickness. No. Gundham needed no help, no assistance.

He needed no one.

 But the blood and flora just kept coming. His research had proposed some preposterous notion that this illness was brought by the feelings of an unrequited love. That, somehow, the notion that not having one’s feelings returned would be akin to Death itself. Having those afflicted by the disease slowly waste away while holding onto the despair of never having their feelings returned. Hmph.

How foolish.

 He was the Great Gundham Tanaka! The poisoned, fiendish being who was above such absurd notions. Him? Love? Ha! The very thought was intensely amusing, for there was  no one Gundham’s ice-cold heart beat for.

Souda’s laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

 The Ultimate Breeder had been walking back from another exhausting exercise of expelling bloody petunias when he heard it. Souda’s laughter was loud, often times brash. It was hard to miss. Especially like this, so, naturally, Gundham sought such a sound out. Naturally.

Obviously.

 The sound had come from a near empty study hall. Holding only the Sharp-Toothed one, the Baby-Faced One, and the Lucky One. The former two cluster near the from on the latter’s desk. Souda’s smile wide and teasing. Gundham stayed there.

Just watching.

“So Fuyuhiko...that dance is coming up…” The tone of his voice resonated with Gundham. ALluding to something that brought that warm, twisting sense of rising vomit in Gundham’s throat to come back. He even felt the gentle brush of those velvet petals against his throat. Faint and present, like Death.

But still he watched.

“And?! What are you trying to say here dumbass?”

“H-Hey! I just wanted to know if you were gonna ask Peko out!”

Gundham swallowed.

 The act of pushing down the rush of blood, bile, and blooms was made suddenly easier as the conversation progressed. The Overlord of Ice watching Souda shrink away from the gangster, the ghost of frightened tears in his usually striking eyes. Gundham’s fingers twitched, the thought of stepping into action moving his body for him. In urge that arose in a moment of weakness.

But he held back.

“P-Peko! What the fuck are you trying to suggest you oily son of a-”

The urge came once more.

“Oh, you should! Though the opinion of trash like me should never influence the opinion of Ultimates such as yourselves, it is a dear wish of mine to see just what sort of hope you and Peko would make toget-”

“S-Shut the fuck up C-Cloud-For-Brains!”

How curious.

 Was this something Gundham had missed? Had this type of...companionship always been possible with humans? Could he have been wrong about them all along? Souda, ever the quick recoverer, jumped rights back. Laughing at the gangster’s red, outraged face. Never once holding the other’s harsh words against him.

Gundham felt the blooms well up once more.

 Running out of that space, pressing his hands to his mouth, Gundham’s mind lingered on Souda’s sentiment. Comforting him in that barn, despite the harsh words they’ve previously shared. Taking Fuyuhiko’s temper in stride.

It puzzled him.

 Puzzled him more than the blood and flowers welling up in his mouth. Souda made it look so...easy. Even for someone so usually cowardly. In that case, shouldn’t such a thing be easy for him? Surely it would.

Surely.

 But then the blood came, just as Gundham tried to make his way down the stairs. It came violently. Bursting from his mouth in a heavy spray of carron and iron, despite the bandaged hands that had gripped his mouth shut. He collapsed like that, coughing and hacking. Membrane from the breeder’s shredded lungs splattering along the floor. The purple red color of a bruise. Pink, blood splattered petals floating away on streams of Gundham’s blood. Flowing down, down, down the path of red that dripped, dripped, dripped from step to step. Some fuchsia petals still fluttering in the air. Flipping this way and that. Flying far, far away from him. Going. Going.

Gone.

===

He was going with Sonia.

 Souda was going with the Dark Queen that that moral gathering with Sonia. The way his smile shone and the dazzling gleam to his eyes haunted Gundham. Souda was a nervous pile of anxiety, fretting about every detail of the fated night and trying his best to make everything perfect.

Gundham long forgotten.

 Gone was that moment of weakness, that clink in his armor at the barn. Gone were Gundham’s tears. Gone were Souda’s arms around him. Gone were all the things Gundham longed to...to…

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything anymore.

===

It was Souda.

It had always been Souda.

 How Gundham failed to realise that sooner, he didn’t know. Or, more accurately, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. But the Ultimate Animal Breeder was far past the point of pride right now. Sonia had stopped by earlier, knocking on his door. The last of many visits to the threshold of his realm to inquire if he was sure that he wasn’t going to be in attendance at the dance. And the answer was always the same.

No.

 Not when Souda would be there. Not when Souda would be so busy with ensuring that tonight would be the perfect night for him and Sonia. Not when all  his adoration and attention would be focused on her. Not when he wouldn’t spare Gundham another glance.

Another embrace.

 So this was it. His life, so full of spilt blood, would end with it. Another round of hacking overtook the Overlord of Ice, making him retch whole blooms of soft, sweet pink blooms. Dying the sheets of his bed red. Gundham couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except grip those bloodied blooms in hands. Because those, even as they killed him, were far more attainable than the person they were meant for.

Gundham groaned.

 The Devas had likely snuck out of his room by now. Probably trying to find someone, anyone to help. But there was only one person who Gundham would even consider giving this deadly blossoms to. And, unless their teeth flashed like knives and eyes sparked with genius, this parasite was Gundham’s. This gorey foliage was his. And his alone. They would have to rip it out of his lungs in his cold, dead body if anyone else wanted to take these flowers, these feelings, away from him. These feelings...these emotions that made petunias clog his throat and blood well up in his lungs, if Souda wouldn’t have them, then Gundham would just keep them. Keep them clenched in a bloodied fist, never to let go. Never to set the pink petals free. Because such was the nature of his unrequited, pathetic feelings.

And if they killed him, so be it.

 Though, the Overlord of Ice mused surrounded by his own blood and innards and foliage, he did have regrets. He regretted all the wasted time with the Angel. He regretted just how much time the Demon took from him. And he regretted all the moments he let slip by with Souda. Just how many times did Gundham have the chance to talk with with him? Just how many times did Gundham have the chance to befriend him?

Just how many times did Gundham miss his chance?

 Ah, well. The breeder exhaled wetly, a lone pink petal fluttering out of his red mouth. Flying up into the air only to flutter back to the ground. Dimly, Gundham could here frantic footsteps draw near. But he didn't care. Everything was so cold. The blood around him was so cold. His fingers were cold, freezing into their gnarled shape. It was cold. But those flowers were warm. They were soft and sweet smelling. Gundham liked them. They made him sleepy.

Very, very sleepy.

 The door thumped, as if someone was trying to get inside. But Gundham was too occupied with the flowers all around him, with the flowers making their way greedily up his throat. They were so pretty. He liked the color of them.

Pink.

I saw a really cool post but it was out of date and no longer running so I decided why not start my own. If you reblog this before Feb 20th you will receive a newly hatched Pokémon in your submit box inspired by your blog. Let’s have some fun togeather! 🧡

touched, touch, touching (dazatsu web weave)

—

BSD is written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harukawa

bsd - anime / hozier, “from eden” / bsd: dead apple / bsd: dead apple manga / madeline miller /  edna st. vincent millay in a letter to arthur davison ficke / bsd - manga / bsd - ending 1 / bsd - manga / bsd character song album cover / richard siken / richard siken / house of leaves / bsd - character song album cover / mariana’s trench, “good to you” / rainbow rowell / bsd - ending 1 / euripides - trans. anne carson / marya hornbacher / bsd: dead apple / the used, “i caught fire” /  bsd: dead apple / bsd: dead apple / bsd: dead apple / anne sexton / bsd: dead apple / mikko harvey

Lotidge Ship Week: Day 4 - Enchanting

===

“Uh? Voltron to Lotor? Voltron to-“

“I heard you the first time Lance.” Lotor grumbled as he took another swing of Nunvil. Stupid Voltron. Stupid Alteans. Stupid alliances with their stupid formal-

“Ok, ok. Just checking Mr. Grumpy Galra. Jeez, you’ve been glaring into space for half a Varga now man.” Well…the Red (or was it Blue now? Blast it, its all too confusing at the moment) Paladin wasn’t entirely wrong. Lotor was, indeed, very grumpy.

But he hadn’t been glaring at nothing.

“Says the one sulking with over Keith.”

“Hey! I’m not sulking!”

“Sure, and I’m not trying to get drunk Lance.”

More specifically, he had been glaring at the little woman that had taken up far too much of his thoughts as of late.  A point further proven by the three empty Nunvil glasses next to him. Ah. 

The Green Paladin.

The two had developed a sort of…relationship as of late. Touches lingered. Lips occasionally touched. Eyes would soften.

But what were they?

What did she think of him? Just what was keeping them dancing around each other like this? Lotor didn’t know and he hated being left in the dark like this.  

Hated being so enamored with her.

His eyes never left her, as she stood there in the distance. Clothed in a pale purple dress that made his blood boil with every sort of blushing red feeling Lotor swore he’d never let himself feel. A sleeveless lilac two-piece with strips of black velvet holing the short shirt and long billowy skirt together. Slivers of warm, freckled skin shining through the gaps. Etherial and enchanting.

Talking with other men.

The sight had his fangs grinding against each other. Seeing her smile up at diplomats. Seeing their eyes linger on her skin. Lotor had half a mind to chew the Altean Princess out for introducing Pidge to these foreign diplomats. Ugh, he didn’t like this.

Not in the least.

He didn’t like the uncertainty. The secret tenderness between them. He wanted the ability to loop his arms around that slim waist without the fear of losing what little standing he had with her. The right to stand by her side without any chance that she might lash out at him.

Pathetic, he knows.

But what was a man to do? The Green Paladin had his heart wrapped around her little fingers. Maybe it started when those gold eyes first cut into him. Or when he saw those blasted tears streaking down her face. But either way, Lotor knew that whatever he felt for this small woman has long gone beyond a simple fascination.    

He downed his drink.

“Lotor? Where are you going?” Lance was deftly ignored in favor of Lotor making his way towards the small woman who left him so helpless.

The room only spinning slightly.

Then, in the corner of his eyes, Lotor saw the Black Paladin make way towards Pidge as well. Every nerve in Lotor’s body screaming in protest at the sight.

Damned clone.

It wasn’t that hard to figure out. But Lotor couldn’t bear to tell the rest of Voltron for fear of being booted out. Their trust in that copy of their leader greater than their trust in him. Though complications really started arising when Lotor found that the clone’s eyes never strayed far too long on a certain Paladin.

Which Lotor couldn’t exactly fault the thing for.

Pidge was, at least by Galran standards, an ideal, tempting mate. Young and clever. Her size never impeding her battle prowess. Small and lithe like a knife.

Never failing to excite him.

Beautiful and deadly in such a breathtaking way Lotor want to snatch her up in his arms and snarl at every male that came too close. That being said, as soon as Pidge was within an arm’s reach, Lotor pounced.

Wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Join me for a stroll, won’t you?” He didn’t look at her as he asked, choosing, instead, to glare triumphantly at that clone’s dumbfounded expression. The copy’s expression immediately souring. 

Before whisking her away completely.

Everyone who reblogs this before New Years (11:59 PM 12/31/17)

will be given a small art piece based off of their blog! (Well a photo over Tumblr of it but it’ll be good quality)

And I mean EVERYONE as long as it’s before the end date! Reblog fast for cute art things!

Soudam Week: Day 1 - Non-Despair School Life

Hi! This my first work for Danganronpa, and I thought’s be a nice break from GM and Voltron as a whole, so please enjoy! <3 (and yes, all of these will be posted on my AO3)

This was utter nonsense.

  Pure, unadulterated tomfoolery in his opinion. And, considering it was the opinion of the Supreme Overlord of Ice and future ruler of this pathetic mortal realm, it should’ve mattered a great deal. Yes.

Should’ve.

  But against his very vehemnet protests, this... menial task was still thrust upon him. Him! The Great Gundham Tanaka! This was an insult, an outrage . And yet...Gundham didn’t dare refuse. For fear, cold blooded and rabid, fear of one homeroom teacher Chisa Yukizome. A truly monstrous mortal that even Gundam wished never to anger. Not again.

Never again.

  So here he was, the cursed offspring between an Angel and a Devil, having to ask a classmate of all things for assistance. Which was, as Gundham had previously stated, utter nonsense. The classmate in question was one Kazuichi Souda. The Super Highschool Level Mechanic.

And someone Gundham would’ve rather not interacted with.

  N-Not because that mortal with the wonderfully hellish teeth and the sharp, glitteringly intelligent eyes had caught his own all-seeing eye! N-Nor the fact that even his wonderful Dark Devas of Destruction had deemed such a mortal worthy of their nuzzles and affections. Or e-even how that loud, boisterous laughter can bring even his all-powerful ice heart to a steady melt . Wait-

Was had he been talking about?

  Oh! Right! Final projects. Yes, the projects... which are final . Those projects. Ahem, anyway, Gundham needed Souda’s help. You see, he project was to design a product that would assist one in Ultimate Talent. His other classmates had steadily finished their’s over the past months.

  The Always Hungry One had created a sort of portable sandwich holder. The Devil Dancer had invented a speaker that shouted recorded insults at those the machine recognized, greatly distressing the Timid One. The Red Eyed One and the Baby Faced One had collaborated on a project and produced a sort of decoding device. Naturally, the Great Gundham Tanaka had came up with something even better.

A cage!

  But not just any cage, this was a cage that could read the wait of an animal and adjust it’s diameters to fit the warrior properly. It was ingenious! So when his homeroom teacher had informed him that the idea and the sketches he made weren’t going to be enough to pass, the Overlord of Ice was begrudgingly forced to seek out the Sharp Toothed One for assistance on creating a prototype.

But that was proving rather difficult.

  Hope’s Peak was a huge palace with many twists and turns, not to mention seemingly infinite lab space for each of its students. So Gundam was forced to run back and forth in an increasingly frustrating search for the mechanic. It was then that his cursed ears picked up the distant siren song of a radio.

“I don’t wanna talk about it...I don’t wanna think about it.”

  It was coming somewhere further down the hall of endless garages. Could it be? Gundham decided to take a chance all follow the call of the radio enchantress.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

  All the papers and folders and pamphlets containing help information pertaining to Gundam’s project suddenly turned moist under his palms. There! Underneath the voice trapped in the radio, was that-? Gundham’s heart leapt to his throat.

Beating far too fast for something made of ice.

“Even when you’re next to me, it’s not the way I’m picturing.”

Souda.

  Gundham knew it, felt it. Underneath all that noise, was Souda’s voice. Quietly following along the song with near masterful accuracy. NOt quite melodious, but far from off-key. Just right and wonderful . This...actually came as a shock to the Ultimate Breeder.

He’d never heard something quite like it.

  Yes, he, the Great Gundham Tanaka and Super Highschool Level Animal Breeder, had never heard Souda’s voice like this . N-Not that he had actively listened into the Sharp Toothed One’s conversations! No! Not at all! I-It just seemed out of the ordinary for someone like Souda.

Which only flustered Gundham even more.

  Clearly , this was previously unknown side of Souda. Side no one knew. Until now. And he, Gundham Tanaka, now knew something about Kazuichi Souda that no one else did! Not even his beloved ‘soul brother.’ It made the Overlord of Ice preen up just the slightest bit in pride as he ventured even closer to that soft voice.

“You wanna be friends forever?”

Then it hit him.

  The Sharp Toothed One...He would most likely detest the idea of Gundham’s knowledge of this particular behavior of his. Which sent his cold heart plummeting to the deep, dark pit of Gundham’s stomach.

His mood coming down with it.

“I can think of something better.”

It was because of the She-Cat.

  That’s all Gundham was able to decipher from the absolute anomaly that was Kazuichi Souda. Apparently, the Sharp Tooth One was under the misunderstanding that he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, held romantic... affections for the Dark Queen.

Which was far, far from the truth.

  While it was true that the She-Cat was a strong and welcomed ally in his plans for world-domination, she was just that. A trusted and valued ally . Souda... Souda was different. Souda was the twist in his stomach and the worrying falter of his heart. Souda was sleepless nights dreaming of dyed hair in his hands and restless mornings filled with vain efforts to try not to stare too much at still sleep-soft expressions on Souda’s face. Sonia was stability and simplicity. Souda was nothing like that.

Souda was chaos.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

And Gundham loved it.

  It was because of the chaos Souda created within him that the Overlord of Ice could see no other being worthy of sharing his path. No other person qualified to rule the world by his side.

But that just wasn’t meant to be.

“Sleeping here right next to me...”

  For even he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, was subject to the cruel mistress that is fate. And that mistress had foretold of Souda’s doomed feelings for the She-Cat. But, what was once a strained, uncomfortable relation, had now grew into a fairly stable friendship.

Leaving him behind.

“But will you ever mess with me?”

It was Invading Black Dragon Cham-P that woke him from his stupor.

  Rubbing against his commander’s poisonous cheek softly, as if to raise his spirits. An action Gunham took full advantage of to pet his beloved Deva in a similarly caring manner. The other Devas eventually emerging from the Angel’s scarf to see what else they could do to combat their commander’s sudden sadness.

San-D’s eyes glinting dangerously.

  That alone should have tipped Gundham off. But thoughts of his rotting relationship thwe Souda and the Sharp Toothed One himself had made the Overlord of Ice weak , soft. As they always did. If only for a moment, a second .

Which was all the Devas needed.

  Shooting from their home in the Angel’s scarf with all the power of true hellbeasts. Sprinting, as if their lives depended on it, the second their paws hit the cool floor. Gundham jolting in shock. Wait! No!

They were going to Souda!

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Gundham could only run after them in a near-mad dash. They couldn’t alert the Sharp Toothed One to his presence! Not when he was so unprepared! But the Devas’ plan had worked. In forcing the pair’s meeting to occur faster, Gundham’s misery was altogether forgotten.  

“No...”

  Souda’s voice was but a soft howl as the Devas disappeared around the corner and into Souda’s open garage. Gundham barely able to skid to a halt at the edge of the doorframe. His, now frantic heart, almost beating out of the cage in his chest. The music was louder now, as was Souda’s voice.

Oddly comforting.

  A soft squeaks of his Devas finally gave Gundham the push he needed to peer inside Souda’s garage. And, for the second time that day, the Great Gundham Tanaka was once again shocked.

It was...different than what he had imagined.

  With large windows taking up nearly half the massive walls. Letting a great deal of natural light that made even the greasiest tools and half-finished projects sparkle. Like a magic spell, the garage was suddenly transformed into a room full of secret runes and treasures Gundham immediately longed to understand. Large metal shelves piled with current works and spare parts. And there, near the largest work table in the center of that sunlit scene, was the Ultimate Mechanic himself.

Souda.

“But at least i got you in my head, oh yeah...”

  And, like casting a magic spell, Gundham was entranced. Souda stood, with his back to the door, his long pink hair tied together in a single, glorious braid flowing between his lean shoulders. The soft, curling ends just fluttering above the small of his back treacherously. Gundham’s bandaged fingers twitching to the sudden urge to wrap his fist around the velvet rope of hair and tug the mechanic closer to him. The Overlord of Ice had seldom seen Souda’s hair like this, only appearing every seasonal heat wave or so. But, apparently, the Sharp Toothed One seemed to prefer to bind his hair whilst he worked, his beanie long since discarded. Oh Dear Dark Gods.

Gundham really liked his hair like that.

“At least I got you in my head, in my head.”

  Oh vexed vixen! Just as his all-seeing eye had trailed down the shining length of Souda’s tetresses, the little minx moved! No. No, moved wasn’t the right word for it. Not when Gundham felt a cursed heat spread throughout his face. Oh no.

He was dancing.

  Swaying his hips lazily side to side as he sang along to the radio. Gundham’s eyes following every movement. The garishly yellow jumpsuit was gone. Leaving the Souda in nothing but a stained white tank top and equally smudged jeans. The outfit clinging to his muscled frame in such a way it was downright sinful.

And wonderfully so.

“Sleepovers in my head, oh yeah…”

  As if that wasn’t already dangerous to Gundham’s health, Souda’s shoulders also adapted that same torturous swaying motion. Making the long braid of pink hair dangle teasingly behind him. Souda then moved to the short side of the table, taking a long stream of mechanized joints along with him.

Still never catching sight of the Ultimate Breeder.

  Much to Gundham’s relief, as his heart felt as if it would burst from the sheer pressure of this...this trance the Sharp Toothed One had him under. Damn it, he had underestimated the sheer amount of demonic energy this lusty creature had! The Overlord of Ice was surely paying for such negligence now.

Especially as he saw the Devas inching closer to Souda.

“But at least I got you in my head...”

  The Overlord of Ice had to furiously bite his tongue in order to resist the urge to call them back to him and indefinitely alerting Souda to his presence. Unable to do anything except look desperately into their hellfire eyes and beg them not to reveal themselves. But they just sat there, near the other end of the table. Staring at him as if to say, “Give it a chance.”

A chance?

  What would a chance do? Gundham didn’t need a chance! He need Heaven and Hell in his hands for Souda to even consider him, the Great Gundham Tanaka, as a...a romantic partner! He needed bend the very fabric of reality to-

San-D bared her teeth.

  Tiny and flat, they didn’t look dangerous. But Gundham knew better. San-D was a fierce and powerful warrior who commanded both fear and respect amongst all of Gundham’s trusted army. As such, Gundham valued the pull of her devilish instincts to a very high regard.

This was one such case.

  She looked at him and bared her fangs with all the esaperated anger of a third wheeling friend. Forcing Gundham to, once again, re-evaluate his situation. Casting Souda under his all-seeing eyes once more.

  The Ultimate Mechanic's body was leaning over the table, fussing over another joint in the machine. The end of the screwdriver pinched between those magnificently sharp teeth, the music long forgotten as he zeroed in on the offending part. Gaze sharp enough to dismantle the project before him with his mind, but hands skilled enough to fix any and all errors. No matter how miniscule.

Gundham swallowed.

  It was that razor-sharp focus and tunneled passion that drew Gundham to Souda in the first place. In addition to the vicious teeth and cackling laughter. And, ever since the, thing have only gotten worse and worse between the two. Much to the Overlord of Ice’s dismay. But...perhaps...it wasn’t too late.

Souda cheered.

  The sound shocking Gundham from his place at the door frame as Souda blessed the bright, mechanical room with the warmth of his smile. Having been proved victorious in correcting whatever foul error dare cross his path. Sharp toothed and gleaming in the light. He had a smudge of oil on his cheek. Under his left eye, with blobs of it sticking to the part of his hair too short to make it into his braid. Flopping around his face and fluttering up into the hair. The sun’s light only further highlighting how soft and achingly touchable it was. That’s it.

That was the final straw.

“In my head...”

  Gundham looked to San-D and the rest of his beloved Devas. Nodding to them, he gave his permission to continue with their plan. And just like that, the Devas quickly ran up to souda and pounced on the unsuspecting mechanic. All while their commander busied himself with flattening down his hair and straightening his scarf. Souda screaming as the Four Dark Devas quickly took hold of the object of their commander’s pining.

“In my he-GAH!”

“Bwahaha! Foolish mortal, leaving your guard down while I reside within this world? Truly, this is another victory for the Great Gundham Tanaka!”

okay but