Recently did these Zagreus concept sketches based off of him being corrupted into Chronos' army đ¤Ş
whenever I finish a book (without a movie adaptation or with unpopular movie adaptations) for school I look it up on ao3 and get disappointed
but I also lack the executive function and time to write a fic, especially after having to write an essay
with all the writing students have to do, at least some of it should contribute to the enjoyment of literature among future students
tldr: please just assign us to create a fandom
OH! Well, thank you @equalskiersten and @olkarianprincess for the chance to spread more of that quality Shidge content around.Â
But be warned, my rating system is hella weird. (And a very long post ahead)
Black, Green and Everything in Between - By Diamond (I think they have a Tumblr, but I'm not sure where...)
Definitely the OG Shidge fanfic I think. Just about everyone who likes Shidge seems to have this on their list! And for good reason to, I'm a sucker for jealously and Pidge being treated good, so this fic is the best medicine after dealing with angst all day.Â
Rating: Like having your favorite meal in your favorite coffee shop as you write/sketch for fun while catching your crush staring at you all puppy-eyed
Golden Madness - By Yours Truly (I SWEAR IâLL UPDATE THIS SOON MY DUDES)Â
What can I say? It has Shidge, angst, MAJOR CANON DIVERGENCE LIKE HOLY CROW, angst, Lotidge, pretty dresses, angst, and music.
...did I mention angst?
Rating: You go to your crushâs wedding and the two of you share a look that wouldâve been helpful before the whole âI Object!â thing. Yeah, too little, too late. You then proceed to get drunk off your teary butt.
Left Hand of the King - By @olkarianprincess (This fic or any of her other works tbh, itâs all amazing)
BLESS. THIS. FIC. Just - yes. A million times yes. Complete, wholesome, and just...I LOVE IT??? SO MUCH??? Also has Lotidge, so hopefully you like that. But, yes, this is a full 13 completed chapters and each one is glorious. The story, as a whole, is just really satisfying!Â
Rating: Ditching some fancy pants party, shoes in hand, as you and your crush run through the sprinklers. Laughing and grinning like idiots even as your parents make offended gasping noises.
Nightmares in Arms - By running_with_luck (A oneshot that packs a punch!)Â
Iâm also?? Just a sucker for mutual comfort??? And quality love and support??? The angst in here just serves to make the comfort all the better and, as a whole, this fic brings a smile to my face every time I read it.Â
Rating: Falling asleep on the couch as your crush pets your hair. Wearing your favorite sweater while rain pours down relentlessly outside.Â
Hand-to-Hand Training - By ElfGrove (A shot of adrenaline in written form)
GIVE ME BAMF PIDGE OR GIVE ME DEATH! Death I say! Death! I dare you! Seriously though, I donât really get to see a lot of Pidge kicking butt and taking names. And in this one she does both...to Shiro. Who DEFINITELY has a thing for girls who can kick his butt. The subtle feels are just too much for my heart to handle and I adore this fic with every fiber of my being.Â
Rating: Walkinâ into the club with your favorite outfit on, Beyonce playing in the background, Â and you look hot as hell. Which causes your crush to trip over their own feet and land directly into your awaiting arms. Let the swooning commence.
Lions Make Decent Wingmen - By @galacticlee (bc GOSH DARNIT WE NEED TO GET HER IN ON THESE THINGS)
Can I just say??? That??? Her art for this fic is gorgeous??? And??? You all need to see her Instagram??? But this fic is absolutely amazing. Still ongoing and well worth all the wait. The author has a really clear understanding of the characters. Its just so nice to see them portrayed so naturally and, generally, at ease. GOOD AND PURE AND WOULD DIE FOR.
Rating: First date at the movies. Really nervous but also really excited. Your crush tries to do the whole yawn-and-put-an-arm-around-you thing, but fails miserably. But the two of you laugh anyway and settle for holding buttery popcorn hands instead.
Thank you for sticking with me and hopefully you find something you like @grbgcn2!Â
Sorry guys, but applications are due soon, so Lotidge Ship Week entries might be a little late and have some weird mistakes. :(Â
Curse you Princeton! Jk, please read my essays
===
âNo.â
âYou canât tell me what to do Shiro.â 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.
âI said no Pidge.â There it was again, that blankness to his look that made Pidgeâs 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.
âAnd I said Iâm going.â Shiro was just about to open his mouth to refute her again, when a third, previously ignored voice broke through their tension.
âI could go with her.â 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 wasnât at the end of her patience already, Lotor just had to butt in.
âOh come now Champion, you know as well as I do sheâll be killed on her own.â Lotorâs voice was all but a purr as he, very pointedly, looked over Pidgeâs head at Shiro. Glossing over her with those brilliant blue eyes.Â
The Black Paladin glaring right back.
âAnd whoâs to say youâll help her chances?â
âWell, unlike you Champion, I know these ships like the back of my hand. Not to mention the fact Iâm just as much as a wanted criminal as you lot.â Pidge tried getting a word it, but the two just kept at it.Â
âThatâs not worth Pidgeâs life.â Ok, thatâs it! Pidge wasnât going to deal with thisâŚweird display of testosterone. She didnât have time for this! Not right now!
Not when she found a lead on her dad.
So thatâs 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 Lotorâs face.
Shiro, naturally, called after them. But all his half-baked pleas fell on deaf ears. Pidgeâs 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 Lotorâs help.
âGoing without your brother? How rebellious~â Ugh, she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. But she didnât want Matt out there, in danger.
Not after everything heâs been through.
âSit down and shut up before I make you.â 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 Lionâs 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 Shiroâs 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 wasnât?
â-aladin! Paladin, I believe were getting close!â It was Lotorâs 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 Greenâ cloaking ability.
âYour lion has cloaking?â Lotorâs 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.
âYes, so stay inside and wait for me.â
âNo.â
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.
âI didnât ask you Lotor.â 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.
âAnd you didnât ask me before grabbing my hand and jumping ship...Pidge.â With that, the strange look to Lotorâs eyes increased as he turned away to put on his helmet. Leaving Pidgeâs mind reeling fromâŚthat look.
That soft, soft look.
- - -
But nothing stayed peaceful for long.
Her father wasnât 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.
âI thought you said your father was aboard this ship?!â Came Lotorâs 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 wasnât supposed to be like this!
This wasnât supposed to happen!
âI thought he was!â She screamed right back, launching right back into the fray after a momentâs 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 Lotorâs gaze on her. Burning her skin even through her armor. Pidgeâs clenched fist and grip on her weapon turned near choking.
âYou thought? You risked our lives on a mere guess? You fool!â
She turned toward him.
âI never asked you to come with me!â She mustâve looked like a mess, but Pidge couldnât find it in herself to care. So what if Lotor saw the huge tears streaking down her face? She didnât care.
Didnât 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 didnât want his pity!
âPalaâŚPidge, I-I didnât mean to-â Still looking at her, Lotorâs eyes widened. Freezing mid-sentence as he caught sight of something over her shoulder. Â
Pidgeâs 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 harmâs way.
At his own expense.
âAHHHGH!â 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 Pridgeâs cheek as he loomed above her. Face pinched in pain. Â But that soft look remained as he gazed down at her.
âP-PidgeâŚâ
(Might also be a scene in âGolden Madnessâ??? So???)
===
Sven was nervous.
I mean, sure, he was willing to risk his life for the Guns of GamoraâŚbut this?
This was madness.
Here he was, just an adverage member, on his way to meet THE HEADS of the Guns of Gamora themselves. The fabled Prince and his brilliant wife. The lakers of this great rebellion wanted to personally meet him.
And Slav.
âJust relax Sven, the Prince and his Princess in this reality are known to be 78% more merciful than in any other reality.â Sadly, even Slavâs universal probabilities did nothing to soothe Svenâs frazzled nerves as they walked through the last door to their meeting place.
Thus began the wait.
And no amount of shifting his weight or fidgeting did anything to ease the nervousness spinning in Svenâs stomach. Had they done something wrong? Was the Prince displeased with their performance? Were they g-
âSorry for the wait!â Sven perked up at the sound of a voice, female but gruff. And a daintier, happier sound. Bells and bangles, he supposed.
Then he saw her.
And she made Svenâs knees go weak. He wanted to collapse onto the floor, but he was so taken by her appearance, Sven couldnât look away. She simultaneously made him weak in the legs and heart pound in ways nothing ever had before.
She was gorgeous.
Small and pale and freckles all over her soft skin. A slender, toned frame that a pure white catsuit clung to. A laboratory officialâs uniform, Sven dimly recognized. The only difference being the small, pale green shawl wrapped around her delicate shoulders. Everything about her seemed soâŚsmall and pale.
Except her presence.
She descended from the high staircase with the greatest amount of dignity and grace Sven had ever seen. Her gait posed and purposeful in every way. Seeming to radiate authority.
Gold, belled anklets ringing with every step.
Shining, golden bangles sparking on her wrists.
Her face came into clearer view, and Sven nearly started at it. Make no mistake, her features were as lovely as the rest of her.
But horribly scarred.
Her right eyelid appeared to have been sliced mercilessly, but it had, miraculously, healed enough to where it only left very harsh scars along her freckled skin.
Her eye, however, was another matter.
It had been removed completely in favor for a cybernetic one that appeared to operate just like the other eye. Sven, though, was no stranger to scars. But on herâŚthey seemed almost cruel.
And she seemed proud of them.
Wearing the slashes along her right eye like badges of honor. As if a testament to her life. And it suddenly made this small woman seem larger than life.
Her hair the color of fire.
No waitâŚmaybe? Not quite fire, but not quite orange either. A color Sven had never seen before. So warm and startling against the pale colors of skin and clothes, it was nearly as jarring as the slashes across her face.
But it looked so soft.
Long and curling to her slim waist. Pitch-black eyelashes, on both eyes, fluttered over to him to meet his eyes.
Sven nearly jolting.
Her remaining, human eye was the same bright gold as her bangles and anklets. Bright and warm and sharp with intelligence and purpose. Red lips curled up invitingly against the soft green markings under her eyes.
Pointed ears adored with long earrings.
âYou must be Sven, itâs nice to finally meet you.â And there she was, standing right in front of him. One of the most beautiful Alteans he had ever seen. Sven had been right.
She was short.
Even with the heels.
But still, he grasped her outreached hand as respectfully as he could. Trying not to think about the callouses on the tips of her fingers or the softness of her skin.
Or the sweat coating his palms.
Their hands parted from each other in a way that almost hurt. He mustâve continued to stare at her, despite his best efforts. Face flushing red. But how could he not? It was impossible not to gaze upon such a bright little creature like her.
A woman who smiled like a defibrillator.
âL-Likewise MsâŚ?â
âOh! Itâs Pidge. Just Pidge is fine.â Pidge laughed, waving those small hands of herâs in front of her as if to swat away any formalities. Sven rolled the name off his mouth.
Pidge.
He liked it.
âSo do you know why you were called here Sven?â Her tone now serious, her gold eye boring into his gray ones. Sven stood up straighter. Right. He was meeting the Guns of Garmoraâs Prince and Princess.Â
"No ma'am." Her red lips gave a little twitch at the title, but she turned away from him all the same. Breaking that entrancing eye contact.
Looking towards Slav.
âBut I'm guessing you have an idea as to why?" Slav didnât even wait a tick. Closing two pairs of his arms and puffin out his chest proudly.Â
"Of course! For instance there is a 28% percent chance that in this reality you are here to kill us."
âOnly 28%? I must be getting soft in the other realities then!â Good Stars above that teasing smile on her face would be the death of him. Slav, however, took to comment as a grave offense. His large eyes narrowing in a near comical way. Shrieking his protest.Â
âYes! âOnly 28%â, are you doupting me?â
âAre you threatening my mate?â
Sven looked towards the new voice.
From the top pf the staircase was none other than the Prince himself. Founder and leader of the Guns of Gamora. One of the last Galrans alive.
Prince Lotor.
He truly was as fearsome as they said. Purple skin with yellow-azure eyes. Short silver hair trimmed just above his neck. Red markings, like bloodied cuts on his cheeks. With face full of sharp, chiseled angels that made him all the more intimidating.
Earrings dangling from his pointed ears.
As the Prince decended from the stars, Sven suddenly felt small. Dressed in black and metal plates, the Prince left no room to question his authority. Taking away all the oxygen in the room with his mere presence. His long, red-violet cape snapping behind him like a serpent as he glared at Slav.
âIâll repeat myself one more time, were you threatening my mate?â Curling his lips back, Lotor snarled at Slav. The latter quickly hiding behind Sven. Shaking his head left and right vigorously. The Prince relaxing.
Svenâs heart having long since stopped.
Mate?
He couldnâtâŚ
There was no wayâŚ
âEasy Pretty Boy, EasyâŚâ Pidge laughed like the bells on her ankles. Bright and cheerful with that gruff voice of herâs. Walking over to Lotor, slipping her hand in his.
Pulling him down for a kiss.
The Princeâs eyes fluttered shut above Pidge as he reached for the shawl around her shoulders. All his remaining tension disappearing under Pidgeâs care. Lips moving together in habitual sync. Slipping the green shawl off her body to reveal bare, smooth shoulders.
A bite mark like scar on one of them.
There was a noise Sven couldnât place, in his head perhaps? A sort of mournful wailing. Dimly, Sven remembered the lessons about the near-extinct Galran race that the Guns of Gamoraâs Generals had taught him, back when he had first enlisted.
âGalrans mate only onceâŚâ
They pulled away, the Princeâs eyes dreamy as he stared down at the small, smiling woman with the gold eye and scarred face.
Love in every feature.
âThey chose a single mate who they trust to stay by their sideâŚMarking them with a scar.â
âYouâll be the death of me Katherine.â But Lotor smiled as he said this, voice low and purring. Arms moving to wrap around Pidgeâs slim waist. But she only rolled her mismatched eyes and smacked his shoulder.
Still smiling.
âHush! We have work to do, you crazy thing.â She finally, finally looked back at Sven. Love lighting every single one of her beautiful, scarred features. Love.
Love for Lotor.
âThey are then bound to each other. Never to leave, never to betray one anotherâŚâ
âSorry about that Sven, this guy,â At this, Pidge elbowed Lotor in the side. âHeâs a handful.â
Sven couldnât answer. He was a grown man drowning on dry land. His throat felt like it was stuffed with towels. Tongue dry and heavy in his jaw as he watched the Galran Prince and his wife smile softly at one another.
âAhâŚso this is the reality that the Princess is the Galran Princeâs mateâŚâ Slav murmured absentmindedly, coming out from his hiding space behind Sven.
While Sven could only smile.
âItâs alright.â
Like ripping his own heart out.
===
âIts an alternate reality!â
He couldnât breathe. How could he? ThisâŚsmall woman before had nearly killed him.
This small woman from his dreams.
Believe him, he knows it sounds crazy, but its true. Sven was born at an Altean rehab center. Meant to house potential âworkersâ for the Altean Empire. He lived there with his parents until he was 13. His life there had been restrictive and monitored, but he had his family.
He had been happy.
Before his mild-mannered parents were killed for being âphysically inferiorâ and a âlong-term unreliabilityâ. After thatâŚSven had nothing.
And then the dreams started.
Blurry and unfocused at first, the dreams were all Sven could cling to. But they were enough.
She was enough.
The dreams seemed to be from another life altogether. Another life more peaceful and wonderful than the only one Sven has ever known. This woman in green had been different though.
Happier.
In Svenâs dreams they had lived somewhere wonderful. With green, lush grass and the sun bright and warm. So much unlike his life before joining arms with the Guns. It had been a simpler life. Where the pair of them had lived side by side. Grew up together.
But in the dreams she had always been smiling. Usually at him. Other times at inventions her nimble fingers often crafted in her spare time. Brilliant in every way. Her expression so carefree and sparkling, Sven could hardly bare to look at her. Sven used toâŚused to think that they mightâve been together.
Been in love.
Even now, if Sven thought about it, he could almost smell the scent of her hair from that long ago life. Or the feel of her hands, small and callous from typing, around his own. Even the look of her lips, soft and pink, had Svenâs own almost moving in a phantom memory. Memories.
The only thing Sven could cling to.
He had joined the Guns of Gamora with the hope of avenging his parents and theâŚvery fragile hope of meeting the beautiful girl with the golden eyes. And whose to say he couldnât? Anything was possible.
Right?
Sven had wanted to find that beautiful girl from his dreams and ask her why he couldnât get her out of his head. Why she haunted him in such a lovely way. Both in that other life and in this one. Memories of her clinging to him like a drug, a ghost. Could theyâŚ?
Could they come together once more?
But no, the look in her eyes proved otherwise. The small woman in green before him may have those same burning, brilliant gold eyes. Those same warm, soft strands of hair around her face. Those same sparkling little freckles all over her skin like kisses. This small woman that had nearly taken his head off, may look like his dear love from another life.
But she wasnât.
For @lotidge and @olkarianprincess because gosh darn it I should be studying.
===
Lotor had never cared for birds. Small, stupid little things that never seemed to avoid such blatant decoys. Be it plastic or stuffed bait, birds would fall upon them. Thinking them family. She reminded him of a bird in that sense. Small and quick, yes. But stupid? Not at all. The Green Paladin of Voltron was a force to be reckoned with. Her intellect deadlier than any weapon she could ever wield. But that's not why she reminded the Galran Prince of a bird. Oh no. It was that undying kinship. Lotor had stumbled upon her searches for a man he could only assume was her brother. It was that near-reckless willingness to find him that reminded Lotor of a bird. A bird that could be caught. The Galran Prince had simply manipulated the data she would find to lead her into a trap. So eager she was! Disregarding her teammates warnings. Flying straight into the fire. And the sight of the Green Lion being shot out the sky should've...fulfilled Lotor in some vital way. But it didn't. The Lion fell from the sky. Crashing unto the land. Like a fallen star. A dead, decaying creature that was once full of life. Naturally, Lotor tracked the metal carcass down to make sure the Green Paladin was captured and secured. Alive. He had wanted her alive. He had wanted to hear that bird-like heartbeat slamming against her rib cage as he closed upon her. He had wanted to see the fear in her eyes. Not this. Not the lower half of her small body pinned down under the Lion's control panel. Bones, nerves, muscle all flattened and crushed to a pulp. Not the tree branch skewering her stomach. Bile and blood at war with each other underneath Lotor's boots. Alive. He had wanted her alive. He wanted her blood pumping and heart hammering. He didn't want this. He didn't want her head at that angle. Looking up at him in such a way that made it oblivious that her last moments had been far from peaceful. Gold eyes dull with Death. An arm outstretched. But to reached what? It took Lotor some time, but he found it. A ways away from the wreckage of the Green Lion. A small, seemingly insignificant thing really. A photo. One with a girl and boy. The boy Lotor instantly recognized as the rebel he had baited the Green Paladin with. But the girl? She was lovely. Willowy and small, beaming in the burnt, bloody photo. Hair long and beautiful. Gold eyes shining. Lotor's legs gave out as he went back to the Green Paladin's corpse. The realization taking a hold of him feeling not unlike drowning in fire. This mangles corpse. This small woman. This enemy to his empire. She had once been this girl. She had once been a beautiful creature with the promise of the future in her eyes and a body barely strong enough to cling to her brother properly. Lotor looked toward the corpse. And understood. He finally understood birds. With they're yearning to be with those they love, they're willing to risk it all. If only they can get a last embrace, a last spot of warmth. Only to be struck to the ground. But even bloody and broken, birds still cry. Cry for their kin, not knowing their fake, but still HOPING. Lotor looked at the bloodied woman. And wanted to cry. Birds! Stupid, stupid beautiful birds. He looked to the woman who had died in agony but still yearned for her brother more than anything, and all Lotor could do was clench his eyes shut and look away. Maybe he had been wrong about this woman. She wasn't as smart as he gave her credit for. No, no. This girl truly was a stupid bird. Caught up in a lions' game.
So, as you all know, Golden Madness is my baby and when I'm not stressing out about college/senior year, I'm working on that.
And now the Retrace Arc is done.
BUT HOLY HECK-A-DOODLE do I need your help!!!
What I need from you guys is to tell me if there was anything you guys found confusing or want me to talk about in the Retrace's End announcement.
Thank you!!! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Pretty golden Pidge anyone???
Pidge Ship Week: Bonus Day 8 - Free Day
Which means that I gotta do some good ole fashioned Smutty Angst.
===
He knew he shouldnât be doing this.
He knew he shouldnât be this close to her. His mind screamed at him to stop. Begged him to not do anything stupid.
Anything like this.
Anything that consisted of holding Pidge in his arms. HIS arms that is, not Shiroâs, where she THOUGHT she was. Anything that included pressing their lips together. Or following her to her room. But it was easy to do these things to her.
Heartbreakingly easily.
She let him in her heart with little resistance. So trusting, it made him sick and, at the same time, dizzy with glee. ButâŚthe hard part was convincing HIMSELF that the one she wanted was HIM, not the man he looked like.Â
That she wanted him, Kuron.
That the one who was supposed to feel the thin legs wrapped around his waist was actually HIM and not Shiro. The one who she wanted in her bed was HIM. HE was the one Pidge loved.
Not Shiro.
It was cruel to think otherwise. So Kuron chose to lose himself in her, in his lies. To lose himself in the way they dove down on her bed. In the way they moved together.Â
In the way the little woman before him peeled off her baggy shirt. Pale, freckled skin bare for him to see. Smiling against the vibrant blush on her face. Gold eyes shimmering in such a way that seemed to beg him to touch her.Â
He had to lie to himself then, that she loved him as he ran his hands along her skin. But GodâŚdid he love HER.
âPidge.â Was all he could pant out as he rocked against her wet warmth. Hours, maybe minutes later. Naked in every way except the truth. His head buried in her hair. His voice practically BREAKING with need. Hands holding onto her like dying life.
âOh GodâŚPleaseâŚâ Let him drown in her. Let him forget. Let him break and crumble underneath her gentle touch.
Let him be real in Pidgeâs arms.
Let him fool himself in thinking that the one she was so eager to have between her legs was HIM. Let him lie to himself and say that the one she wanted in her bed was HIM. That the hands she wanted touching her chest were HIS.
Not Shiroâs.
She cried out, blunt nails scraping down his back. Catching on fabricated scars. Legs tightening around him. Shuddering and sobbing. And he tried not to think about how he deserved so much more pain for the lies he told her. For what they were doing right now.
She clung to him.
Kissed him.
Moved with him.
He didnât last much longer after that. And, for once, he wasnât riddled with guilt. Everything was just bliss. White-hot and gold. Everything was just her.
Pidge.
âI love you. I love you. I love you.â Even his whimpers were broken as he pressed kisses onto her neck, bare chest, and soft lips. Secretly, Kuron was happy. Ecstatic.Â
She was HIS now.
Not Shiroâs. Not Lotorâs. HIS. He finally had something to his name, something he could hold on toâŚ
She smiled at him.
Skin slick with sweat. Glowing brighter than a candle. Bangs clumping against a damp forehead. She was a mess in his arms.
She was the most beautiful thing he ever saw.
âI love you to.â There, that look in her golden eyes. Thatâs what broke him. With her hands on his face, its what made him dive down to claim her lips once more.
Itâs what made him forget.
Forget who he was. What they just did. He felt real. He felt like a normal, actual human wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved. God, if there even WAS one, let him stay like this. With her. With her love in his artificial heart. Let him be human with her. Their lips slotted together, messy and lazy.
Happy.
âShiroâŚâ Pidge breathed softly as her hands rubbed the red welts she left on his scar-riddled back. He stilled. Something vital draining out of him.
He broke.
Make no mistake, Kuron didnât facially react. He just stared at the small, smiling woman below him. With the golden eyes soft with love. With the honey-hued hair sprawled all around her pillow. He traced the line of her bare shoulder.
His heart bleeding.
He shouldâve known. Shouldâve recognized that he could never be happy. Not when Shiro was all Pidge could see. Not when he wasnât human in the way that mattered. Who was he kidding? She could never want HIM. She could never belong to HIM, despite what they just did.Â
Shiro still in her heart.
But for a second, a moment that will always haunt him, he had believed she had loved HIM, wanted HIM. Kuron looked down at the woman he loved. Who didnât love him, not truly.
Not knowing whether to kiss her or kill her.
They had slept in the same bed out of necessity, but come morning...Lotor couldn't find it within himself to regret their decision. Even if she snored. Like really, really snored. But even still, Lotor couldn't help but snuggle closer. She was so warm...the Green Paladin wasn't sick was she? Taking a strand of her warmth-colored hair, Lotor mused on the small woman sleeping, snoring against him. Soft against his battle-worn hands. This woman, he thought. Troublesome to his Empire in every way. Troublesome to the Prince's own health! Pidge shifted. Moving on her side so that she faced him. Still snoring like a damn engine. But Lotor didn't care. How could he? Her face looked so soft like this. So young and relaxed in the morning light. Hair splayed all around her in maddening, illogical patterns. She looked so different like this. So much unlike the blasted little demon she became whenever they fought. He stared at her mouth. At the soft curves of her upper lip. The plushness of her bottom one. Then Lotor realized something. Realized something with a jolt so bad, the Prince nearly fell out of their shared bed altogether. He cursed her, cursed the little woman inching closer to him. All while wanting to laugh. Damn this little Thief of Hearts.
âI shouldnât be so enamored with you, I know.â She tried to struggle out of his grip, to bite his hand, but his other hand was wrapped around her shoulder threateningly.
Claws sinking into the skin.
âLet go of me!â Pidge tried her best to spit in his face. To get him away from her. His claws grazed her mouth, as if he was trying to map their shape out. But he remained close.
Too close.
âBut is it wrong that I want to keep you here, with me, forever?â He was warm, his hands and body so near her own, was almost gentle as he handled her. His eyes soft withâŚsomething.
Soft with a sort of madness.
"Mothman Squad" just floating zero gravity, as you do. <3 === I decided to do a different Pidge ship every day just because I think they all need a lil love. And because I just want Pidge to be happy đ ===
Pidge Ship Week: Day 1 - Trust
===
He had hurt her.
âI trusted you! You promised me! You promisedâŚâ Sobs, loud and ugly, over took the Green Paladinâs small body. Her heart hurting too much. How could he? How could he? Was the only thing she could repeat in her head to keep her sane.
- Golden Madness, Chapter 7: Beloved, You Are
=== Sorry guys! I had to! ;)))))